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 “December, 2015”

Suck it, melanoma!

NO malignancy. John has no cancer. It was just a badly infected thumb, and now it will heal. We got the news just in time to celebrate on New Year’s Eve.

So, even though I am about to head out to Root Canal Part #2, I am happy. I am grateful. And I am taking a moment to share that joy, because God knows I’ve shared enough misery and angst recently. Once I get that over with, I will come home, get ready, pick up some dinner and head to John’s. And there will be champagne.

You want a schmaltzy New Year’s Eve retrospective? Not here, kiddies! Nah… here’s what I say. Suck it, cancer. Suck it, staph infections. Suck it, root canals and stomach flus. Haters, ageists, racists, terrorists, all the icky -ists, Donald Trump, etc. etc., you can all go suck it. I don’t care. My sweetheart doesn’t have melanoma and he doesn’t have to have his thumb butchered. He survived open heart surgery and a bazillion complications this year. For this moment, he is OK.

So, kids. Wishing all of you a happy, healthy, prosperous and sweet 2016. For all my friends who had losses this season, may the new year bring you healing. For everyone who is partnered, go tell your mate you love them. And for singles, you know what? There is a peace in solitude. May you find it. Oh, and just in case it seems I’ve forgotten the theme of this blog — happy damn spankings, lots of ’em, for all! ♥

I am off to dental hell. Love you guys. Thanks for bearing with me.

Quickie update & meme

I swear, come 2016 when all this is over, I will get back to making this a fun spanky blog again. For now, here is the latest: John went to see the surgeon today to get the splint off his thumb, have it looked at, etc. Despite the doctor’s best efforts, the biopsy result had not come back yet. (sigh) However, the doctor said the wound looked like it was healing well, the swelling is all gone, and John is feeling no pain. I swear, the man never took so much as a single Tylenol after having that procedure last Wednesday. (Did I mention that he also had the biopsy with only a local anesthetic, even though they offered him both Versed [a tranquilizer] and Propofol? He wanted to be fully awake and aware for it. I swear, the man is crazy.) So… we have to wait a little longer. But the doc seems to think (even though he won’t commit to it) that it’s not melanoma. We’ll see.

So, despite John’s thumb and my stomach bug, we had a decent Christmas Day together. I brought prepared food from the service deli at the market, picked up Starbucks for John, and we had a quiet night in, exchanging gifts and watching movies and various TV marathons.

And this afternoon, I saw Steve for the first time in a month! He’d finally been given the clear from his doctor to be around others, and his nose is much better. Staph infections are horrible. We even played a little — I was definitely out of condition, but I sure loved it. I need to get back into our regular play routine. Hopefully soon.

My stomach is much better and I was able to exercise yesterday for the first time in a week. So I’m feeling somewhat human again.

Two more days, and I can tell 2015 to go fuck itself. What a year. But since it isn’t quite over yet, I think I’ll shut up for now.

I know some friends did not have happy holidays this year, and I’m sorry. I do hope some of you managed to have some fun and be with loved ones.

Since this entry is brief, I’ll end with the one-word meme that’s going around. (Mind you, I find answering anything with one word damn near impossible.)

1. You: Weary

2. Your boyfriend/girlfriend (spouse): Irreplaceable

3. Your hair: Brown

4. Your mother: Gone

5. Your father: Missed

6. Your favorite item: Computer

7. Your dream last night: None

8. Your favorite drink: Champagne

9. Your dream car: Beemer

10. The room you are in: Living

11. Your ex: Vanilla

12. Your fear: Illness

13. What you want to be in 10 years? Secure

14. Who you hung out with last night? Me

15. What you’re not? Flexible

16. Muffins: Bagels

17. One of your wish list items: TV

18. Time: Fleeting

19. The last thing you did: Played

20. What you are wearing: PJs

21. Your favorite weather: Cloudy

22. Your favorite book: Many

23. The last thing you ate: Cereal

24. Your life: (shrugging)

25. Your mood: Mercurial

26. Your best friend: John

27. What are you thinking about right now? Answers

28. Your car: Toyota 

29. What are you doing at the moment? This

30. Your summer: Hot

31. Your relationship status: Partnered

32. What is on your TV? Nothing

33. What is the weather like? Cold

34. When is the last time you laughed? Earlier

35. Your favorite color? Red

And so this is Christmas

Eve, anyway. It’s 11:30 PM on December 24. I am having a quiet night at home, trying to get over some sort of stomach bug that’s been plaguing me. I thought this would be a good moment to stop by and update you all.

I won’t get into all the details, because they are tedious and gross and depressing, but the infection on John’s thumb turned into a real nightmare. Briefly — two urgent care visits, two ER visits, one MRI and one lancing later, we spent the day in the hospital yesterday, getting his thumb biopsied. The MRI showed a mass. Unfortunately, they couldn’t determine what the mass was. It could have been anything from a pocket of gunk from the infection to a harmless cyst to a benign tumor… to melanoma. John has had melanoma before, so he is considered high-risk. Thus the taking of half his nail and a chunk of his thumb yesterday. The doctor told both of us that he believes in preparing for the worst-case scenario. So of course, all we’ve been thinking about for the past week is cancer, and John needing to have his thumb cut off to the first joint if it is.

And Steve has a stubborn staph infection in his nose that is so relentless, he’s been on four types of antibiotics and has seen several specialists. I have not seen him in three weeks. And I have had nothing left over from worrying about John to be supportive to him. I feel bad about that.

So. After I got John home safely last night, with all his meds, food, etc., and his assurance that he would be OK, I came home and collapsed. And the only time I left the apartment today was to take out the trash and get the mail.

But tomorrow, I’ll go be with John. We’ll have presents. We’ll have a nice dinner (if I can eat it). We’ll be together. And he has a follow-up appointment on Tuesday, where we’ll learn the results of the biopsy. The doctor spoke to me after the procedure; he was cautiously positive. If the biopsy shows nothing, then nothing else needs to be done. John’s thumb is splinted and bandaged; it’s going to be a mess for a while, but it will heal and his nail will grow back.

Part 1 of my root canal is over and was uneventful, aside from my being so terrified, I nearly passed out. Part 2 (and hopefully the last of it, if things go well) will be next Thursday. With the root canal I had three years ago, part 2 was when things went wrong and it had to go into a third installment. I’m hoping that won’t be the case this time.

Last Monday feels like it was a month ago, but it was a happy night. I had plans with my girls Alex and SpankCake to have a holiday dinner, as well as a belated birthday celebration for SC. With John’s situation, I thought I might have to cancel, but he insisted that I go, and even though he had to see the doctor that day, he got there on his own. Said I needed their support… and I really did. So the three of us had dinner and cake and our usual lively chatter, and exchanged presents. They bought me a joint gift — an utterly gorgeous, plush throw blanket from Nordstrom. I couldn’t stop touching it, and as soon as I got home, I bundled into it and took a picture. (Sorry for my phone’s crappy selfie quality.)


And in the midst of all this craziness, where spanking is the last thing on my mind, a nice compliment. The Spanking Blogg Awards 2015 continue, and the nominations for Lifetime Achievement were posted. There are two categories — video producers and spankees — and I was nominated in the latter. Please go check it out here, and if you’re so inclined, cast your votes. Only takes a couple of seconds. 🙂

I’m going to sleep now. All cynicism and grumpiness aside for a moment, I wish all of you a happy holiday, whatever you may be doing. Go be with people you love, or spend time with your pets, or whatever your heart desires. Life is too short to spend time doing tedious crap with people who don’t make you happy.

♥ ♥ ♥  Good night.

A bright spot in some dark days

The SpankingBlogg’s Spanking Awards are in progress, and yesterday, the winners of the 2015 Creative Blogger award were announced.


Yup, I got second place this year. First place went to Consensual Spanking, and Alex placed third. Congratulations, you two! Thank you to everyone who voted for me; I was in some really amazing company this year with the nominations.

The contest is ongoing — so far, the nominations are still open for Best Female Newcomer, Best Facial Expression on a Spankee, and Best Male and Female Spanker, with more categories to come. And let’s show Chief John some love, please. He’s working very hard with this project, and even if these award thingamajigs aren’t your cup of tea, they are meant to be fun and some people are really giving him a hard time about the categories, the nominees, etc. No good deed goes unpunished! To John — I and countless others appreciate what you’re doing and hope you won’t let the haters discourage you.

It’s ironic that I’ve received this award right now, considering that I am dealing with a complete blogger’s block. My views are at an all-time low; my off-topic rants get more comments than my on-topic posts. I hesitate to write now, because I’m in a negative head space and I don’t want to dwell on it. But what the hell… this is life, right now.

Sometimes, it’s the confluence of little things that send me under. It started last week, when I went to the endodontist (dental specialist) for a dull but persistent toothache that I’d had for the past few weeks. I hoped if I ignored it long enough it would go away, but no such luck. After taking an X-ray, he informed me that the tooth right in back of the one that was treated two years ago is now dying, and I need another root canal. Ugh. Lots of $$$, and lots of pain and discomfort. And then he added insult to injury by saying, without a hint of humor or teasing inflection, “It’s nothing you did wrong. This is just what happens when you get old.” Oh, swell.

So I come home from this, feeling utterly blech, and go online to check out the newest blog roll. And then I find this (all copy is verbatim, typos and all):

Spanking Mature Woman To Tears

Mature and sexy Eric Scott gets a tearful spanking. A warm-up spanking turns into a very real punishment. Erica has been forbidden to speak the name of a certain man by John. As he is giving her a nice bottom warming before a spanking party she utters those forbidden words. Her carelessness earns the mature woman a severe spanking from her angry man. John makes good use of all the spanking implements her has on hand including leather straps, hairbrushes and paddles. Erica learns to mind her words and pays a painful penalty for her slip of the tongue. She’s spanked to tears and left to reflect on her bad behavior with a red and very sore bottom in this very real mature spanking video from!

(pictures, pictures, scroll down…)


Besides the fact that this person couldn’t even get my name right, check out the bold highlights. In one itty bitty post, the word “mature” was used five fucking times. Really?? This is now how I’m being described?

And despite this glowing review (cough), the clip John put up on Spanking Tube has gotten a whopping two comments.

Then there’s Shadow Lane. I will always be grateful to them; they gave me my start in this industry and brought me into the scene. But if you go to their newly renovated site and search for me, here’s what you’ll find — I am described as a cougar. I don’t care what anyone says; that is not a compliment. The image that term evokes is of a Real Housewife of Wherever, with a plastic face, duck lips, too-tight clothes and a desperately hungry demeanor, who eats men alive. Then my description blurb cuts off in the middle, and no one has bothered to fix it. In the “where to find Erica” section, they link one video, plus a compilation where I make a brief appearance.

I shot four videos for them. Clearly, I am an afterthought.

You know what, kids? I think it’s time to pull the plug. I’ve had a wonderful run — 15 years. I’ve worked with some incredible people and got to realize a lot of fantasies. But it seems I am way past my expiration date. And please don’t give me that tired cliché about how I’m ageing like fine wine and cheese. Cheese grows mold, and I’m starting to stink. I don’t want to become a punchline in this industry.

And so, while I deal with my mortality and rotten teeth, I am also worried about John, who continues to have work issues, and now he has a bad infection under his thumbnail. He has taken two rounds of antibiotics for it and it keeps recurring. He is still on blood-thinners and bruises/bleeds like a stuck pig over every little bump. He hasn’t had his meds reassessed and he’s still taking all the same stuff since right after his surgery, and I’m sure some of it could use adjusting, or even eliminating. But for whatever reason, he’s putting off seeing to that. I know I’m hypersensitive when it comes to his health, but after all this, can you blame me?

And poor Steve has a cold and a secondary staph infection in his nose; he is swollen, in bad pain, on three different kinds of medications. Don’t know when I’ll see him. No relief there. He’s so dear… he even offered to take me to my root canal appointment on Thursday and then bring me home. But I can’t take him up on that. The doc is over an hour’s drive from me, and I’ll be going home in the worst traffic time (around 6:00) on the very congested freeway. And what’s he supposed to do with himself while I’m in the dentist’s chair getting drilled? No, I just have to get there myself, get it over with, and then crawl home and die.

I really am trying to keep my head out of the darkness, really want to focus on good things. But every time I turn on the TV or the computer, there is some horrible news. Shootings, death, terrorism, illness, road rage. Social media is riddled with anger and short tempers. The upcoming election has become a joke and a circus, the rest of the world thinks we’re idiots, and there’s still over a year to go. Social media is no comfort. Yes, I still have friends there. But they have also become places of meanness, where people unfriend and block and harass.

Oh, and the mother of my childhood best friend passed away; I just found that out on Friday. Even though I’ve long since lost contact with my friend, her mother and I kept up communications all these years. Every year, on my birthday and at Xmas, she sent me cards, and always included a certificate for See’s candy, my favorite. She used to call me her second daughter and signed her cards “Mom #2.”

I have tried getting out of myself. I’ve bought presents and sent some greetings. I even bought candy canes to hand out at random when I’m out and about. But nothing seems to be working. And I’m so damn scared about my dental appointment on Thursday, that’s all I can think about. I know it’s silly; people have dental work every day. But root canals are especially difficult for me. Plus, when I’m scared, my throat tenses up and I aspirate very easily. Choking in the dentist’s chair with exposed nerves and tools in my mouth would not be a good thing.

So. I will be back when things turn around a bit. But for now, no one wants to hear all this crap. Everyone has their struggles. So I will deal with mine, and hope that everyone will still be around when I come out the other side.



Christmas carol parody, 2015

OK, kids. It’s time for some laughs. The country has gone nuts. Today I had to go to the dentist and got caught in terrible traffic because of a possible bomb scare in the area. Then when I finally got there, I found out I need another root canal. And I’m depressed as @#$% over a blog that wrote up my video with Triple A and referred to me as “mature” five separate times (and spelled my name wrong to boot). I need something funny. How about you?

For those who are new to my blog, I do this every year — write a spanking parody of a Christmas carol. For example, here is last year’s offering:

Do You Hear What I Hear?

This year, I’m keeping it basic — I wrote a parody of “Jingle Bells.” I don’t need to post a link to that song; everyone knows it. So without further ado, I present, to the tune of “Jingle Bells,” “Elves Gone Bad.” Sing along!

Oh, and…


Elves Gone Bad

Bottoms pink
Paddles stink
Santa’s full of crap!
Oh, what fun it is to lie
Across Kris Kringle’s lap, hey!

Pants are down
Bad elves frown
Stockings full of coal!
But oh, what fun it is to wreak
Some havoc at North Pole!

Dashing through the house
Coming in the open door
Presents tossed about
Cookies on the floor!

Eggnog on the walls
What a mess they’ve made
Fun will end when Santa sees
Just how they’ve disobeyed!

Oh, elves gone bad
Santa’s mad
Time for OTK!
Oh, what fun it is to brat
Until you have to pay, hey!

Elves gone bad,
Santa’s mad
Gonna spank them all!
Reddened elves will rub themselves
As they go deck the hall!

Epic rants — yes, plural

You lucky people. I have two things that are pissing me off right now. No, it’s not anything about the holidays, and it’s not stupid gross food. One issue is on topic, and the other is not. But both have gotten under my skin lately and it’s time to release a bit. Warning: controversy ahead. If you’d just as soon skip it, I understand.

Last Friday, I saw two pictures that had just been put up on FetLife. The first was an extreme closeup of one butt cheek, with the skin broken and bleeding. The caption read: “Results of a proper caning.” Really? And then the next photo was the same butt, mercifully a little farther back but still pretty damn close up, so you could see both cheeks, which were not just red, but had white spots, the beginnings of bruises, and two spots that were bleeding. And that caption read: “A proper bare-bottom belting.”

Proper? According to whom, pray tell? And of course, we viewers are left to infer that anything less than a spanking/strapping/caning resulting in blood is somehow less than “proper.”

I know, I know, I’ve talked about this before. I’m sick of death of the comments, the implication that bottoms who don’t get trashed beyond recognition are wimps. “That’s not red enough.” “I could have done a better job.” “Looks like a decent warm-up, now bring on the spanking.” Fuck these people! When did it become not enough to simply have a nice red backside? Why is it that with some folks, bottoms that look like they’d been plunked on a George Foreman grill, turned up high, are the holy grail??

Hmm. I’ve been caned dozens of times over the years, by many tops. But I’ve never had a cane break my skin. What a shame that I’ve never had it done properly, huh? (massive eye roll)

This follows along with the issue that John Osborne and I felt compelled to shoot a harsher, more intense video, because viewers were bitching and snarking about our last two being “too light.” What is with this freaking blood-lust going on with spanking video watchers? So OK, we shot a video where John was punitive, and I shed tears. It was well done and I trust John, and I felt comfortable going there with him. Still, it’s irksome that we had to go there, to cave in and cater to the damn barbarians out there. I get it, though. If you’re in the business of selling video, you need to do what sells. But for God’s sake, stop criticizing people’s work. If you don’t like a video because it’s lighter than you care for, then go watch something else. But don’t try to shame and ridicule people’s efforts just because they fall short of your desires for rear carnage.

Here’s my gripe, in a nutshell. You want to play hard? Have at it. You want to bleed? Knock yourself out. If that floats your boat, then you can deal with the aftermath, and more power to you. But goddammit, don’t try to make others feel like what they’re doing isn’t good enough, or “proper” enough, because their flesh isn’t ravaged to your liking. What happens when newbies see these photos, claiming this sort of extreme is “proper”? I can see it now: inexperienced tops thinking they’re pussies, and they need to up their game in order to create these torn-up asses. And naive bottoms thinking they are “less than” because they don’t take this degree of punishment, and therefore should feel some sort of scene shame. Ridiculous.

Can’t we just play like we want to play, and leave words like “proper” and “real” and “true” out of it?


OK, that’s one. The next one is bound to piss some people off, and I’m sorry but not sorry. I don’t go out of my way to offend, but sometimes, you know, I just can’t avoid it.

Found this little gem on Facebook, of all places:


It’s true. The NRA and the 2nd Amendment advocates fight to the death (literally) against gun controls/stricter gun laws, but when it comes to women and what they do with their own bodies, oh, that’s everyone’s effing business.

I am not anti-gun. I don’t think guns should be eliminated. But clearly, with so many psychos out there shooting people, with terrorists killing groups of innocent folks, things are out of control. There needs to be something, and I don’t know what it is, but we can’t keep going on like this. But for everyone who says something needs to be done about guns and the fact that far too many nuts can get their hands on them, there’s another who says gun control is not the answer, and we just need more guns. That the people in Paris should have had guns. That the Jews in the Holocaust should have had guns, for Christ’s sake. That we should have guns in school classrooms.

This kind of killing goes on and on and on, and somehow, it’s left unregulated. Men, women, children. Fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, spouses, all manner of loved ones. Meanwhile, women are vilified and shamed and criminalized because they choose to expel a tiny splotch of ectoplasm that is undeveloped and completely unviable. This is a sin. This is murder. This must be eliminated. Yeah, that makes a lot of sense.

Recently, our country’s Senate did two things: they refused to pass a bill that would prevent people on the no-fly list from getting guns. At the same time, they passed a bill that would defund Planned Parenthood. Yeah, that makes sense too. Let’s not control the crazies with guns that destroy lives, but by all means disallow women from choosing whether or not they give birth.

You know, I don’t even have a dog in this fight. I am way past the child-bearing age. And when I was that age, I made damn sure that I wouldn’t have any, because I knew I didn’t want them and I didn’t want to deal with birth control. But it still pisses me off that younger women out there might lose their freedoms, and if not those freedoms per se, then all the funds available to make their choices. Look…it’s not that I’m a big advocate of abortion. I’m much more of an advocate of people being responsible and smart with their bodies, and not getting pregnant unless they want to. But I have always felt strongly about the right to choose. And I also happen to think it’s a sin in itself to bring a child into the world when you’re neither financially nor emotionally equipped to raise it properly. When I was in eighth grade (a long-ass time ago), I wrote a school paper titled: “Abortion: Better No Life Than Unwanted Life.” I got an A. And I still believe that. How come it’s OK to go ahead and have the kid, just to abuse and neglect it, or not give it the opportunities it deserves because it has a passel of siblings that were also unplanned?

So here’s my solution for the gun-loving anti-abortionists: Every time you see a woman about to have an abortion, shoot her! That way, you 1. get to use your precious guns; 2. prevent an abortion; and 3. eliminate a killer. Win-win-win! Of course, you’re also killing an unborn baby along with its murderous mom, but hey, collateral damage, right?

Yes, that was written with tongue firmly crammed in cheek, and a series of swallows against vomiting in disgust.

Yeah, I’m pissed off. You know why I rant? You know why I blog and vent? Because I can. Because I choose to blow off steam this way, instead of going out and taking my frustrations out on innocent victims. Because I know how to channel my anger like a sentient and sane adult. I’m just so damn sick of people who kill and hurt and maim and do stupid shit to other people. And I’m sick of the people who cheer those fuckers on, one way or another.

(sigh) I know this writing isn’t going to change a thing. But sometimes, I need to do it anyway. Because if I keep it all inside, I just get depressed, and that really sucks. I am trying to keep my sanity during times where there is insanity all around me.

Rants over, for now. I will try to be entertaining next time.

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