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 “January, 2019”

Some things never change

No matter how many years you spend in TTWD, no matter how many experiences you have, how many things you try, how carefully you hone your own personal interpretation of your chosen kink to where it is fulfilling and joyous… there’s always going to be some nitwit out there telling you you’re doing it wrong.

A few years ago when I was playing regularly with He-Who-Is-No-Longer-In-The-Picture, we used to shoot a lot of goofy videos of our play, some of which I posted on Spanking Tube. One especially popular one was when I’d written a spanking parody of the Beatles song “If I Fell,” and he made me sing it on video — while being spanked.

I still get occasional comments on that one, positive ones saying that it was funny and entertaining. And then yesterday I got this — verbatim, poor grammar and missing punctuation intact:

A spanking not supposed to be fun its supposed to make her correct her bad behavior

Oh, yeah? Says you, illiterate one. Although you’re probably right in one respect: I doubt that spanking or any other kind of kink play is fun when you’re involved.

Who the hell are you, or anyone else, to say what spanking is “supposed” to be? Who are you to deny the unbridled joy that some of us feel indulging in a favorite pastime and fulfilling our desires? Spanking — and all other forms of kink/BDSM/what have you — means myriad things to countless people. There is no “supposed to.” There is no “one true way.” And to impose your rigid (and unsolicited) view and dump on someone else’s pleasure is most unwelcome.

Just a reminder, to anyone out there reading who is new to all this: Don’t let others tell you how you’re supposed to do this thing. Discover for yourself, through trial and error, through following your instincts, what works for you. If it’s discipline, great. If it’s for fun, that’s also great. If it’s a complex mix of the two, have at it. What pushes your buttons and brings you floaty joy, as long as it involves consenting adults, is what it’s supposed to be.

Tell you what, stupid stranger. I’ll go on doing my thing the way I like doing it; if that’s “bad behavior,” oh, well. Report me to the kink police, why don’t you. Or better yet, why don’t you work on correcting your bad grammar and mind your own fucking business, hmmm?

We now return you to your regularly scheduled Monday. Today, it is cold, dark and rainy outside. I have my heater running, warm clothes on, a full fridge, classical music serenely playing in the background, and plenty of work to keep me busy. I don’t have to go anywhere; I can work out in the apartment gym if I want to. I am safe and insulated and at peace in my little bubble.

I know the rain will end, outside life will encroach, and I will need to leave my bubble and re-enter a world that feels ugly and unkind to me. But for this moment, I wish I could stay in here forever.

So anyway…

I feel like I want to write something here, even though I’m not sure what that is. I used to think I had to have something special, something of interest or intrigue, to post, but perhaps this blog can also be a place for me to ramble.

I miss playing. I really do. No, it’s not physically essentially like air, food and water. But it is emotionally essential. It’s a part of my makeup. Even when times are funky and I’m down, the cravings come when I least expect them.

People ask, “Isn’t there anyone available to play with you?” That’s not the question. It’s more like “with whom I want to play.” Because despite my neediness, I still prefer quality. I would rather go without than settle for an experience that doesn’t fulfill me. That’s the weird dichotomy of spanking, for me. The good ones can be so rich, so intensely wonderful and memorable in every way. But the not-so-hot ones? They are almost repulsive. It’s like having sex with someone you’re not drawn to. Why would you? Just for the sensation of being screwed? I’ll never want sex — or spanking — that much.

And, unfortunately due to circumstances of recent times, I do not feel safe or comfortable seeking what I need. Because the last time I admitted to neediness, to vulnerability, it bit me in the ass. Not in a fun, sexy way, either. So even though there are those I would indeed enjoying seeing for some play, I will not be the one to ask.

Regarding the party at the end of February… because I know how the gossip train is in this scene, I figured my hesitation about it would get back to the host, and his feelings would be hurt, which I do not want. So I headed things off at the pass and wrote him a long message, explaining what was going on with me and that my desire to withdraw from everything had absolutely nothing to do with him and I loved him dearly. He wrote back to me with such sweet words, I wept. I am a treasured friend and the party wouldn’t be the same without me. That he really wants me to be there, so please, please come.

So. I booked our room. That has to be done in advance. As for the rest, I have a month and a half to think about it. Everyone says I should go. Part of me wants to, so much. But the ugly, bleak voice within that seems to have taken over in recent weeks keeps saying no.

What else am I thinking about… oh, just random stuff. Like, remember I mentioned watching the Twilight Zone marathon over New Year’s? We happened to catch “It’s a Good Life.” Y’all know that one, don’t you? It’s the classic about the town that is being held hostage by a monstrous child, six-year-old Anthony Fremont? A child with too much power, but a complete dearth of empathy or caring? Who hates everyone who doesn’t like him, eliminates necessary things simply because he doesn’t care for them? Just one tiny little man-child, running the town according to his whims, making everyone suffer.

I was especially remembering the part where the party guest gets drunk and loses it, pleading tearfully to the others in the room to please, PLEASE, somebody, grab something heavy when he’s not looking and lay it across his skull, and end this once and for all?? Of course, no one did, but they all wanted to. The poor guy died for his outburst. And then for good measure, the little bastard changed the weather so it would ruin all the crops.

Why am I thinking about this so much? Eh, no particular reason…

Have a great weekend, y’all.

Another year over…

… a new one just begun.

So I guess this is the time where we reflect on the accomplishments of the past year. Here’s mine.

survive

No small feat, really. It was a tough year, the latter part in particular.

The good news? I have a lot more work. The first half of the year was so slow, I had to dip into savings to pay bills. Now I have more than I can keep up with, which, even though it stresses me out sometimes, I’m happy about.

In other news? I am slowly disappearing.

I spent Thanksgiving at home working. My choice.

I spent Christmas Eve and Day at home, working. Also my choice.

I have not been on FetLife in over a month, and have no desire to return to it. I tweet, and I play games on Facebook. But my online footprint is fading.

I have not played in nearly two months. I miss it. But I don’t push for it, either. Because damned if I’m going to allow myself to appear needy again.

There is a big spanking party coming up end of February. Normally I am counting the days toward this event. This year, I am seriously considering skipping it. I really don’t believe anyone will care whether I’m there or not, and I am having a hard time imagining putting myself out there, making the effort to go. Not when just getting out of bed each day is a Herculean effort.

Did something happen? Yup. What? Sorry. Not going into it. There was actually a buildup of several somethings, but one last thing piled on and my personal house of cards collapsed. Suffice it to say that I am now questioning everything. Who my friends are. Who I can trust. And above all, myself. My instincts in people. My place in things. My worth — not just in this scene, but in this life.

No conclusion jumping, please. John and I are fine. We spent New Year’s Eve together, see? He is my one constant, through it all, through all the comings and goings of others in my life. He stays. He loves me. He keeps me going.

20190101_000559

So, for 2019. With all the talk out there about walls, perhaps it is time to build up my own. Tuck away and protect my vulnerability. Enjoy what I can, when I can, but stay guarded. Because I’m tired of hurting. I just want to be numb.

I truly understand why people drink. Or use drugs. There’s a whole fucking lot to escape in this life. Fortunately — or unfortunately — I need control too much. My heart may be battered, but hey, my liver is in great shape. Guess that’s something.

Anyway. This is where I am. And now I need to get back to work, and back to the gym. Life goes on.

I hope my friends out there had happy, safe holidays. Be kind to each other. Have some extra fun for me.

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