Erica Scott: Life, Love and Spanking

Ruminations, opinionated observations, darkly humorous blathering and the occasional rant from an outspoken spanko and unapologetic attention wh–, um, hog.

Archive for the month “August, 2015”

Do you have a room preference?

No Steve this week, and I’m not sure when we will be playing next. He’s having some life issues, unfortunately. So while I’m waiting for things to get better for him, I’ve been busy with work, and in my down time, looking through old pictures and posts and so forth, which made me think of a couple of spankers who thought it would be fun to spank me in every room in the house. I’m assuming that a great many of us choose either the bedroom or the living room (those are my two favorites). But what about other places?

The dining room, for example. A dining room table is a great place to sprawl across. (Don’t know the source for this one; anyone recognize it?)


Then again, some of us have too much of a mess on our dining room table. Probably why I was taken to task, or some other such nonsense.


Or how about the kitchen? A very domestic place indeed. Look how cute Pixie looks there in this Punished Brats shot:


Or the ever mischievous Samantha Woodley, with Earl Grey: (I’m assuming this is Firm Hand)


Or yours truly. I don’t spend much time in the kitchen, admittedly. Here I am with my sweet Danny Chrighton — some of you may remember this from a few years back. I had just smeared birthday cake on his face. 🙂


Then there’s the bathroom. I guess a bathtub is a good spanking place, although I would imagine the spanker gets soaked. (I would hope so, anyway!) This is Firm Hand as well. Not sure who the players are.


Outside of the tub would certainly eliminate the splashing factor. This is Paul Kennedy, with… not sure. Sarah Gregory? Either Sarah’s site, or Northern Spanking, not sure:


Personally, I’d just as soon stay out of the bathroom, but tops have other ideas sometimes. (eye roll)


Den/play room? In front of the fireplace, maybe? (Amelia Jane Rutherford)


This is a regrettably blurry, but still hot shot from my all-time spanking video, Spoiled Rotten from Shadow Lane, with Keith Jones and Tanya Foxx. Tanya is being spanked/strapped over the pool table.


After watching this, I had a fantasy about being spanked over a pool table for several years… until it actually happened. Some things are better in fantasy than reality! For one thing, the side of the table was very hard and uncomfortable on my hipbones, and it wasn’t like I could say “Time out — can I have a pillow?” (Well, I could, but you know, scene-kill. Don’t want to lose the momentum.) And for another, when you have your ear down on the table like that, every swat reverberates right into your head. So much for that hot fantasy. (sigh) Oh well.

Some people have attics/cellars, or garages. But I couldn’t find any photos for those.

So what is your location of choice? Do share. 🙂

Anyone got a spare rhino hide lying around?

Because sometimes, I think that’s what I need in order to survive FetLife.

Yeah, this is drama. I’m venting here. So if you don’t want to read any further, I understand.

Toward the end of last week, I posted a bit of writing on Fet, along the same lines as part of what I posted here a week or so ago. It was about identifying as a spanking purist, and how I was reclaiming the term. As before, I was very careful to explain that I didn’t mean it to sound elitist or exclusionary, or that I was better than anyone else. I simply was trying to express that spanking is pretty much my only fetish, and I didn’t want to be judged for it.

The post got a surprising number of “loves,” and a lot of comments. The comments fell into two categories: the first were people who wholeheartedly agreed and were basically saying, “Hear, hear, me too.” The second were those who didn’t care for the term, took exception to it for one reason or another, and who patiently and respectfully took the time to explain why they didn’t like it. Both types of comments were welcome. I was hoping for some lively discussion on this, and I got it.

Last night I came home from John’s and found several more comments on the post, but still, things had remained adult and peaceful. Wow, I thought. Is this really FetLife? I was so stoked that everyone had been so awesome. And maybe I really did need to rethink the term “purist,” if it bugged so many people I like. One person said he completely understood what I meant, but the word still pissed him off. I get that; after all, I have my own knee-jerk reaction to the word “evolved.” I can learn something, too.

I spoke too soon.

One of my friends had written her own post, a sort of counterpart to mine, explaining why she was uncomfortable with the purist thing. No problem; she didn’t attack me. She sent me a private message to let me know she had no issues with me or what I’d said. But then, a woman who, last year, decided that she hates me and has been sniping at or about me on Fet ever since (after she unfriended and blocked me), came on, said she loved my friend’s post, and then went on to pretty much call me out. Viciously. No, she never mentioned my name; she just said “that person” and “SHE” and “HER,” with contempt dripping off her words. But it was crystal clear she was talking about me; everyone knew that. And then she said that anytime in history where people used terms like “pure,” they generally ended with some sort of ethnic cleansing.

Ethnic cleansing???? Oh, no, she didn’t. She did not go there. So now, because I used the term spanking purist, I’m a racist? A bigot?

Adrenaline didn’t just surge — it exploded. The pancakes I’d eaten hours before were flapping their jacks in my stomach. My heart was pounding and a bad taste rose in the back of my throat, so I got up to get some water. When I did, I noticed my legs felt like Jell-O, they were trembling so much. I was beside myself.

(A funny aside: Even in the peak of rage, I couldn’t bring myself to utter that one word that I so thoroughly detest, not even to myself. I, quite literally, was sputtering out loud in my living room, “That bitch! That… that c-word!! “)

And then I felt tears come to my eyes. NO, I thought. Don’t be a baby, goddammit. Be strong and face this.

My voice of reason said, “Take the high road. Don’t get down into the trenches with her.” I told my voice of reason to f&%k off. Because there’s no way I could let this stand. It’s one thing to take the high road; it’s another to sit by passively and let someone use you as a dartboard. So I went on the post and defended myself emphatically, managing to do so without name-calling. She came back and posted another pile of BS, misquoting me, accusing me of deliberately misunderstanding and then crying “Poor me.” What could I possibly have misunderstood? Her words were quite clear. Once again, I stood my ground and returned fire, saying that I was not homophobic, trans-phobic, or any other kind of phobic — except perhaps MEAN-phobic, so yeah, I found her terrifying. I also said that I resented the FUCK out of her ethnic cleansing implication.

Her final words to me were “I’m done with your ridiculousness.” So I replied, “And I’m done with your snarky judgments, and being your doormat.”

Then the private messages from friends began. Very kind and supportive messages. I was shaking so hard I could barely type, but I answered everyone. One very special woman, who was friends with both of us, let me know that she had written to my hater privately and gently, diplomatically suggested that she take 24 hours to cool off, and that I had the right to defend myself, consider how she’d called me out publicly. My friend wouldn’t tell me what her friend responded, but she did admit that it was “horrid” and that they were no longer friends; she didn’t want to associate with someone who could be so mean, who attacked people she cared about.

Oh, geeeezus. I didn’t want this sort of thing happening! It had gone too far, and I thought, oh, screw it. Know what? I’m just going to take my post down. It served its purpose, and I had decided against the purist term anyway, so it was time to end this. So, after copying my post and all of the comments and pasting them into a Word document, I deleted it, and in its place I posted a brief explanation of why I did. Figured that would help somewhat, right? Then I slept on it.

This morning, while poking around the Fet feed, I found this delightful little exchange between the OH (original hater) and a new one. I’ve copied and pasted it here, typos/misspellings intact, nothing changed — all I did was delete the names:

Hater #1: Write a post once again expressing judgey views > shit hits the fan > write follow up post saying ‘Labels are bad.’ Y’all must have your tunes on reserve cuz you change them quick.

Hater #2: But she “changed” in that five minutes! Really! Plus, mean people have been pointing out her fucked up views! Wah!

Hater #1: It’s obvious as hell what these wild out the gate ‘I’m a legitimate born this way never gonna change [insert kink label]’ posts are. Insecurity that other people are evolving in their own journeys, getting support for it, and feeling like you need to be seen. No one has patted your back lately. You want pats too! We see you. And you’re comical.

What, I’m comical now? Why, thank you. My father would be so proud. 🙂 I was tempted to break into their conversation and cheerily comment: “Enjoying your dime-store psychology session, ladies? Yup, I see you, too.” But I refrained. I simply updated my status, saying that my haters were having some bile with their morning coffee. Hey, they’ve blocked me — they wouldn’t see it. And if someone told them about it… oh well. Too bad, so sad.

I’m not made of stone; yeah, it feels sucky to know that there are people out there who think this poorly of me. But on the flip side, I got messages, I got texts, I got supportive comments, even a phone call. People told me I was a class act. One friend texted, “I’m not a purist, but I love you.” ♄

What did I learn? 1. I’m going to stop using the term “purist.” I know what I mean by it, and my friends understand what I mean by it, but it seems to be off-putting and I don’t wish to put anyone off, when I’m simply trying to define myself. 2. I have good friends (but then, I already knew that). 3. If someone pushes me, it is OK for me to push back, as long as I don’t lower myself to their level.

So, am I crying “poor me”? On the contrary; I’m quite thankful for these two bitter creatures. Why? They make me feel better about myself!  C’mon, I’m the first to admit I can be a snarky, intolerant little snot. But compared to the likes of them, I’m a freaking saint. 😀


Kiss kiss! Peace out, haters.

Clothed or unclothed — what do you think is sexier?

Bear in mind, this isn’t a test. There is no right or wrong answer. I’m just curious.

In the world of spanking (and its various photos and videos), there is a lot of nudity, or at least partial nudity. We spankos see a whole lot of bare bottoms and other body parts on a daily basis, if we peruse the blogosphere, FetLife, what have you. Sometimes, I wonder if we’ve gotten so used to the naked form, we overlook the fact that sometimes, a body left to the imagination can be plenty sexy too. A clingy dress, a peek of lingerie. A flash of cheek peeking out from under some high-cut panties. Legs encased in stockings.

On FetLife a couple of years ago, I got miffed because I had posted some spanking pictures with my panties still up, and people actually complained. “Those panties need to come down!” I’ve also seen photos of women in beautiful underwear, and many of the comments posted are along the lines of “I just want to tear those off.”

Have we become jaded? Or are there just as many people out there who find it sexy when they see a wisp of fabric hugging a curvaceous body, without actually revealing anything?

Me? I like both. There is something really mind-blowing about seeing a beautiful naked body, male or female. But I also appreciate the tease. The glimpse. The imagination coming into play (mmmm, what’s under there?) And as for my own body, most of the time, I prefer minimal clothing to no clothing. I do like the element of making people wonder.

I did some research on some of my older photos on FetLife, and came up with this parallel. Two photos, similar pose, same general location — a hotel at a spanking party. Here’s photo #1:


On FetLife, this got 64 Loves and 32 comments. Not bad at all. Nothing showing, except a brief glimpse of the top of right stocking, and my upper back and shoulders bare save for spaghetti straps.

And now, Photo #2:


This one, in which I’m completely nude, got a whopping 153 Loves and 81 comments. Fascinating.

On Tuesday when Steve and I played, I was wearing a long, drape-y summer dress. He commented about how sexy it looked when I was over his lap, or over the pillows, the way the dress conformed and clung to my bottom. We weren’t going to take any pictures because he didn’t have his camera, but he said he just had to get a shot or two with his phone. Not the greatest of quality, but it would do. So here is a thoroughly G-rated shot with my dress down — what do you think? Does this pique the imagination? Or does it simply make people think, “Pull it up already!”?


(Don’t worry. He pulled it up eventually.)


Thoughts? What are some of your favorite pictures? (Remember, no right or wrong answers.)

Fun with search phrases

I realize I am sorta copying Bonnie’s “Keyword Chaos” feature, but I’ve had an unusually weird batch of search phrases (stuff people type into their browser that takes them to my blog), and just had to share.

erica scoot spanking

People, please. My last name is Scott, not Snuffelupagus. It’s a simple, one-syllable name. There really is no excuse to misspell it.

spank my bottom mcaned

Mcaned? Is that getting caned at McDonald’s? “I’ll take a McCaning with a side of McTawse, please. And don’t forget the McAftercare.”

older women spanked on Tumblr

Yeah, I’ve got two words for that one, and the second one is “you.”

slave erica ready

Ready for what? Ready to punch you in the nose if you ever use the words “slave” and “Erica” in the same sentence again?

And finally, the ultimate head-scratcher:

spanked like snotty

Um… WHA??

What the hell does this mean? And how did it bring anyone to my blog?

“Hey, so she, like, got spanked really hard, and she cried, and she’s, like, all snotty?”

The mind reels.

On a serious note: The outpouring of kindness and support on my last entry was truly amazing. Thank you all so much. And see, commenting is easy! 😀

No, really. I appreciate it all, more than you know. ♄

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