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, 2021”

A failed experiment

This is one of those entries that’s going to be embarrassing. I am confessing something that makes me feel ridiculous. But because I’ve always tried to be honest here and share the bad with the good, here goes.

I don’t have to tell you guys that things have been stressful for a while. Covid goes on and on. I haven’t seen any friends or played since March of last year. I can’t even get a damn haircut, let alone a spanking. John has been my only physical human contact in a very long time. Things in CA are dire; I read somewhere that one in four people in L.A. has Covid. The vaccine situation is completely fucked up; way too much demand and not enough supply. We are still on Phase 1A, and I am in the Phase 1C group. It could be a long time.

I’ve said this many times over these months — the one thing that’s kept me somewhat sane and distracted from all the bad news is work. I’ve had plenty of it and I’ve been able to pay my bills; so many can’t say that and I’ve been grateful. But for the past two months, my freelance work has been very slow, with all clients. I’m starting to feel the bite, and it’s scary. I’m not sure what’s going on or if things will pick back up. I need communication, and right now, it seems that is hard to come by. Everyone is busy and stressed out and preoccupied. I ask questions that are not answered. Along with the work issue, my laptop has a problem and I wrote to my computer tech friend for some help… haven’t heard back from them either. Fortunately, my desktop still works.

I’ve been chatting with a spanko friend who lives in Oregon; I met him many years ago at a party. He wants to come visit and play when it’s safe, but that will be a while. I had said that I thought self-spanking was lame and frustrating, and he suggested that I give it another try. He detailed some positions that would make it a little easier, dexterity-wise, and said if I could do it long enough and hard enough, perhaps I could achieve some release and enjoy the physical feelings afterward — the tenderness/soreness, the twinges when sitting, etc.

This morning, everything sort of crashed on me. I had no work to do. It had been a weird weekend; I chipped my front tooth and I lost my car keys (minor chip, and I finally found the damn keys, but I had a complete meltdown before I did). So I thought, what the hell, I’ll try self-spanking one more time. Purely as a release, nothing more.

Live and learn. I tried. It was a major fail. Instead of making me feel better, I felt worse.

The physicality of it was easier than it had been when I’d tried it before, thanks to his suggestions about angles and so forth. I had three different implements to use that made for good coverage. I checked in the mirror periodically to see if I was even.

But emotionally, it was a disaster.

As the pain built up and the emotions broke free, I didn’t feel relief. Instead, I felt such a wave of grief, I could hardly stand it. I kept going and going and going, and I sobbed while doing it. Every time I stopped, I craved a hug, some comfort, some human contact and warmth so badly, I’d start up again just so I wouldn’t have to think about it. In short, I made a freaking mess of myself, but I didn’t stop unless I was shaking so hard I didn’t think I could do it safely anymore.

And then I cried for another hour. I’m still crying. Yeah, I feel the tingles and soreness. I may even feel it tomorrow. But without the emotional connection, without a top there to hold me afterward, without a strong pair of arms to crawl into, it’s a masochistic and unsatisfying experience. I feel worse than I did before I started.

Not a damn thing I can do about it except ride it out. Cry as long as I need to. And then pull myself together and go work out. Maybe that’s the only way I can release stress right now. At least I have that.

Goddammit.

For those of you out there who are able to achieve satisfaction and release from self-spanking, I salute you. I envy you. I can’t. I know that now without a doubt. I feel sore, but I feel none of the endorphin high, none of the blissful oblivion. I just want to go back to bed and cry until I can sleep for about 48 hours.

Back to the drawing board. People keep telling me things are going to get better, for all of us. I wish I had some inkling when.

I get by…

…with a little help from my friends.

Hey, that’s catchy. Someone ought to set that to music sometime.

This happened a couple of weeks ago, but due to what was going on in the country, I figured I’d postpone it for a while.

We all know the spanking scene is a mixed bag. But one of the things I’ve always loved over the years is the solidarity many of us share. We have each other’s back(sides). And sometimes, it’s not just about playful bratting or what have you. Sometimes, the subjects are serious.

About 3 1/2 years ago, a friend of mine wrote a post on FetLife. In it, she took a bold stance: she stated that she would not play with anyone who is a Trump supporter. She listed her reasons why; it was a well-written, detailed post, no name-calling, just stating her position and why.

As you can imagine, the comments flowed. Some were supportive. Some were neutral. And of course, many others were nasty. I felt like I wanted to do something to support her, so people would see she’s not alone in this stance.

So I posted this picture:

I said I was doing this in solidarity with [her name], and I made it my avatar. Aaaaand the comments rolled in. Most were supportive. But of course, some were nasty.

And then, much to my delight, the incomparable Michael Masterson posted this picture:

He captioned it with “In support of my girl Erica Scott, who has the courage to make her voice heard, I offer you this.” My comment? “I love you, Mike.”

(Sorry about the editing, but the pic was a bit too gynecological. I figured it took away from the message.)

Anyway, cut to the present. I decided it was time to dump the old avatar and put up a new picture. So I chose this one from the end of 2019 (because 2020 was sadly lacking in play).

What is it we FetLife veterans know? No matter what kind of picture you put up, some people aren’t going to like it. And some people won’t hesitate to let you know they don’t like it, and why. You’re wearing panties. You’re not wearing panties. You’re too heavy, you’re too thin, you’re too old, you’re too young, etc. etc. The picture is too graphic. The picture isn’t graphic enough. And of course, one of my favorites: if it shows the results of a spanking, you get the ‘I could have done a better job’ comments.

Sure enough, the picture wasn’t up five minutes when I got this right off the bat:

Not red or bruised enough… just saying. 😉 😉

Really?? And is the “wink, wink” supposed to make it okay?

I mean, come on. If you’re of the persuasion of preferring more graphicly walloped bottoms, you have thousands to choose from on FetLife. Knock yourself out. Go look at the pictures of butts that look like they were pounded with a meat cleaver and then thrown on a barbecue grill, and have a wank-fest. Why bother stopping to comment on mine if you don’t like it?

Sheesh. I hadn’t put up a new picture on Fet in ages, and right out of the gate, I hear from the basement critics. But I didn’t want to start a thing on FetLife, so I didn’t reply to the comment. However, I did go on Twitter and grouse about it, saying that I really wanted to answer, “Who the fuck asked you?” but I’d refrain.

Next thing I knew, my buddy Sarah (not Gregory; a different Sarah I’ve mentioned on here, she of the full-body tackle hugs at parties) tweeted to me: “Allow me… BRB.” And within a minute, I saw I had a notification on Fet of a new comment. I went to look, and nearly fell on the floor.

Below the guy’s comment, Sarah had typed:

[His name]: Who the fuck asked you? 😉 😉

But wait, there’s more: Within minutes, the guy commented back to her. I braced myself for some vitriol, figuring I’d have to step in at some point. But all he wrote was:

Good comment. 🙂

Well, how about that. I chose to interpret that as saying, “Yeahhhh, you’re right, I guess that was kind of a dumb thing to say.” No harm done. And the picture got a lot more attention after that. Sarah, you really do rock. 😀

Not that I spend much time on FetLife these days, anyway. I’m usually there to network about parties, or post about scenes I’ve had. And what with Covid, there’s been none of that. Still… it’s nice to know your friends still look out for you. ♥ I miss everyone so much. The February party has already been canceled, but we are hoping for Labor Day.

Final note: Regarding this week’s momentous occasion, I will say just one thing and then leave it alone.

Four years ago, my stepmother, then 85 and in poor health, was in complete despair over Trump’s presidency. She wrote to me: “I was born during one the country’s darkest times [the Great Depression], and I’m probably going to die during another one.” That broke my heart. I was afraid she wouldn’t stick around; that she’d get so despondent, she’d give up and stop fighting.

Yesterday, she emailed me and said, among other things, “After Biden’s speech, I broke down and sobbed like a child.” She’s now 89. But she’s still with me. She made it. She hung in there long enough to watch us all come out the other side. And I’m so very grateful. It sickened me to the core that the Honorable Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg didn’t live to see this, but damn, this sure helps soothe that pain.

That’s all, folks. Have a great weekend. Stay safe.

Insanity

I wanted to post something fun and playful and very much on topic this week. I had it all planned out. But after yesterday’s insanity, it seems frivolous to even think about posting it. So I will put it on hold.

I am sick down to my soul. Disgusted. Angry. Scared out of my freaking mind about the next two weeks. Shell-shocked and exhausted.

One thing I am not?

Surprised.

On that awful night in November 2016, when I wept all night in fear and dread, I had no clear idea of what would happen. But I knew something awful was coming.

I’d say God help us all, but you know, atheist.

Oh, BTW, the pandemic is still raging and the hospitals in L.A. are maxed out. The blame for that is on you-know-who as well. This could have been avoided.

Please, friends, be safe. Take good care. ♥

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