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 category “50 Freaks”

Better late than never, I guess

I am buried six feet under in work and really don’t have time for personal writing, but you know, I just have to make time, before I forget it all. I don’t know who reads these party reports anymore, but I still like to get them down for memory’s sake. Settle in; this will be long, as I’m going to attempt to do it all in one installment.

Here is one of the many fun signs Joe made up for the party suite, and damn, he wasn’t kidding about this.

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So let’s begin with last Wednesday. It seemed, for me, the party was going to end even before it began. As the afternoon wore on, I started feeling the ominous and unmistakable signs of a cold coming on. No. NO! Goddamn it. You couldn’t wait just one more week, you stupid fucking germs? I went to the nearest pharmacy and bought a crap ton of cold medications — cough drops, nasal spray, saline nasal rinse, decongestant, Nyquil. Figured if I was going to have a damn cold during the party, I was going to drown it in drugs.

Got home and decided to try to ward off the cold with the saline rinse, and commenced to struggle with getting the tight plastic wrap off the neck of the bottle. There was no pull tab, and I picked and picked but couldn’t get the wrap to budge. So I grabbed a knife and started trying to maneuver it between the bottle and the plastic… and slipped. And felt the tip plunge into the pad of my thumb.

Holy crap, the blood. So much of it. Everywhere. Who knew a cut slightly longer than a quarter inch could make a kitchen and bathroom look like a slaughterhouse. “It’s a sign,” I thought. “We shouldn’t go. I’m sick, I’m clumsy, this is going to be a disaster.”

But of course, I calmed down, cleaned, bandaged, and soldiered on.

The next morning, got the car packed and headed to John’s, and then we were on our way. I wasn’t feeling well, but my excitement seemed to be overriding it, so I took some meds and stuffed my purse with tissues. The drive went smoothly — well, almost. After we made a bathroom stop, John took out — of all things — a tray of sushi he had in the cooler for a snack. As John drove, I held it on my lap, opened it, and then reached out to my left to offer him the tray… at the same time he reached right to take a piece. We collided, the tray flipped, and a cascade of raw fish, wasabi and ginger splattered over me and across the passenger door.

Oh, and did I mention that the rental car agency hadn’t had the car I’d requested when I went to pick it up, so, in apology, they gave me a free upgrade to a Lexus??

Pulled over, managed to clean up the mess, back on the road again. Amazingly, I guess I got it all, because the car didn’t stink of fish the rest of the way. (And we thoroughly cleaned it with a sponge and soap later, once at the hotel). Despite these mishaps, we made it to the hotel in one piece.

Thursday night was the usual meet and greet, lots of hugs and kisses and squeals of joy (well, more like croaks, from me). So good to see everyone again. I tried my best to keep my hands germ-free (hand sanitizer), used tissues copiously, etc., but I’m sure my cold was spreading. The only thing that made me feel a little less guilty was that there were several others at this thing who had some sort of affliction or another. I wish I could name each and every person I greeted and talked with, but I know I’ll forget some and my brain is a bit foggy at this point, so it’s best if I don’t try.

I played just once that first night, and it was a quick, light scene, over jeans, with my beloved InspecterHide Michael. He is often my first scene at these gatherings, which makes me happy. He was with a young woman, new to parties and the scene, FetLife-named Ellie3, who was the most adorable pixie you could imagine, and was as sweet as she was cute. I was happy for her, watching her plunge in with both feet, experiencing everything the party had to offer.

We had brought lots of snacks to keep in our room, so we didn’t go to dinner that first night. Later on, Joe ordered pizza for us all, but I didn’t have any. My appetite had pretty much gone AWOL. I can’t remember when we left to go to bed — probably on the earlier side (read: before 3:00 a.m.).

Friday, the cold felt more full blown, but I got up, showered and dressed, and we went to meet a dear friend for lunch at Cheesecake Factory, hanging out there eating and chatting for a couple of hours, which was lovely. However, when we came back, I was full-on sick. So I crawled into bed at about 4:00, fell right to sleep. John woke me at 7:00.

Him: You want to go to dinner?

Me: Uh uh.

Him: You want me to order room service?

Me: Uh uh.

Him: You want to go to Joe’s room?

Me: Uh uh.

Him: You just want to go back to sleep, don’t you.

Me: Uh huh.

So, with much convincing, John left to go join the party, and I crashed back into sleep, not waking up until about 10:15. Somewhat fortified by all the sleep, I decided to get up and make an attempt at an appearance. Since Friday night was designated as a pajama party in the main suite (optional, of course), I didn’t have to dress up. Put on a little makeup so I wouldn’t terrify people, and John came by at 10:45 to check on me, finding me ready to go. And so I finally came to the party, and even managed to do a couple of scenes — a second one with IH, who took me to his room (cool and quiet) and gave me a lovely strapping, and my first scene of the weekend with another one of my favorite people, CalNation (I’ll call him CN). I managed to do some chatting, because there were so many people I wanted to talk to, but a lot of the time, I just sat on the couch, curled up in my jammies, watching the scenes. It was the end of our second night there, I’d barely played, hadn’t even seen Alex and SpankCake yet, and I was so damn frustrated with this cold and feeling like I was only running on a couple of cylinders. I was determined to rally for the rest of the weekend, even if it killed me!

Saturday morning when John got me up, I could feel the difference. The cold had fully settled into my sinuses and throat, but I didn’t have that heavy, sluggish, sick feeling I’d had the day before. Time for fun! There were a couple of events planned for the afternoon in Joe’s room, and then we had plans to go to dinner with Alex, SC and her beau R (sadly, Paul didn’t make it this time, as he was in the UK). First, we went to lunch at DuPar’s with our friend Mir, and at 2:00, showed up for TTYL (a creation of Joe’s: Thongs, Tights, Yoga Pants and Leggings). I wore new yoga pants. Joe’s room was set up with a couple of massage tables for people to scene on, and I got onto one to play with SDSpanko, another great player with implement prowess. Among other things, he had an oversized leather strap that looked like it was more suited to flogging an elephant. Just to show how looks are deceiving — it looked terrifying, but it actually felt kinda good! Intense impact, but not super thuddy, and the warmth from it radiated and tingled. Yum. I also did a second scene with CN; I so love playing with him! He has this delicious way of gathering my hair in his hand, or pulling my upper body up close into him with his left arm as he spanks with his right. And he’s so damn cute. 😀

At 4:00 was Club Finn (named for the premier flogger for our gatherings, Fineous), which is sort of a kinky “spa time” for the ladies. We get massages, sensual floggings, hair-brushing (on our hair), champagne, raspberries and chocolates. The tone of the room calms and everyone is welcome to stay, but Joe said, “Guys, if you’re here, it’s best if you’re pampering a lady!” And so I took off my shirt (I was in a sports bra), and sat at CN’s feet while he delivered a neck, shoulders and upper back massage that had me melting into the carpet.

Quick nap, clothing change and makeup, and we were off to Alex and SC’s suite to pick them up for dinner. We went to HoneySalt, a restaurant John and I had never been to, but A & SC had and they loved it, so we went on their word, and a good word it was, too. What a cool place! Great service, wonderful food, and the company was perfect. The five of us laughed and ate and drank — I was fortified with decongestants so I wouldn’t be blowing my nose every five seconds. I even splurged and got a glass of sparkling rosé… which hit me like a ton of bricks. I guess, combined with the cold meds, it had the effect of three times the amount I’d drunk! A, SC and I shared an absolutely obscene dessert — a brownie, topped with a chocolate chip cookie, topped with salted caramel ice cream — and John and R had sorbet and port. John and I had another one of our collisions; he moved the glass toward me so I could take a sip, and I reached my hand out at the same time… and knocked the damn glass over. I was mortified, but John assured me it was OK.

Aaaand then there was the guestbook. As legend has it, last time Alex and SC were at HoneySalt, SC was a bad girl and wrote salacious things in the guestbook. So this time, Alex said she had to behave herself… but she didn’t. She started writing something, but the pen they gave her ran out of ink. So guess who pulled another pen out of her purse so SC could continue? (Raising hand) I suppose that makes me an accomplice. Anyway, I won’t try to explain what she wrote/drew on the guestbook, but Alex then took the book and wrote underneath: “I’m sorry!” I then grabbed it and wrote, with an arrow pointing to SC’s writing: “We don’t know her!” SC wrote: “Yes they do!” I wrote: “No we don’t!” And that’s how the guestbook was left. I don’t know we can show our faces in there again. But I’m sure we will.

Back to Joe’s suite for the night — the theme of Saturday night’s party was purple (for no other reason except that it’s Joe’s favorite color). So there were purple balloons and banners, and everyone was encouraged to wear the color. Not many men I know can pull off a lavender suit, but Joe did it. John found a shirt that was a sort of a maroon, which is close enough. Alex came in a purple cheerleader outfit, and SC was quite the stunner in black stockings, heels, and a black and purple corset. I had a dress in a purple print, and underneath, I was wearing a new purple bra and panty set.

(Here, I will sideline and apologize because I have zero pictures of my underwear, or of any of my scenes. I wish I did, and I regret it. But I guess I was off my game, wasn’t thinking ahead, and didn’t see to it that any shots were taken. Boooooo. But here is a fun shot of John and me; we were playfully slow-dancing to Bob the DJ’s music and our friend Sam snapped us. I like the dark effect! ♪ dancing in the dark…♫)

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The rest of Saturday night is kind of blurry — no doubt due to meds, wine and general sick muddled-ness. Lots more talking and laughing. John Osborne and I went off and did a nice long private scene in his room, which was a wonderful break for me — I loved being with everyone, but the noise was making my congested head explode. I also seem to recall being spun around and bent over the bar top in Joe’s room, double teamed by John and IH. I cannot imagine how that happened.

Another scene was with a new guy who calls himself Mr. Woodland — what a hoot he is! We had a lot of banter and silliness, and I found myself wishing the scene would go on longer, but it was our first time playing. It seemed he enjoyed my bratting, so I was only too happy to comply and give him some, including giving him a new nickname (which I can’t say here, because it has to do with his real name. Oh well!).

At midnight, Joe had arranged for a presentation to honor Bob and Ariel, long-time party goers who, years ago, opened their suite to everyone and had extraordinary room parties. They had taken a sabbatical for several years due to health reasons, but now they are back, and Joe wanted to acknowledge their well-earned reputations as scions in our scene. A few people got up and spoke, including Mir and me, and the speeches ended with a poem Eve Howard wrote for them. Joe presented them with a plaque, too.

I keep thinking I had other scenes that night, but damned if I can remember. IH was leaving in the morning, and he and I were so hoping to get in one last scene before I went to bed. But unfortunately, he was committed to some others first, and while I tried to wait, it was getting late and I was running on fumes. So, reluctantly, I had to say goodnight and goodbye to my friend. There will always be next time. And with that, John got me back to the room and poured me into bed around 3:30.

Another side note: The energy at this party was high and positive. Even in my state of cold-ish blechhh, I could see this. Regardless of personal opinions and politics, and all the animosity that has gone down in recent months, it seemed to have all been left at the doorsteps. Joe wanted that, and I’m glad we all worked together to give it to him, and to ourselves. Like his sign said, we damn well needed it.

Sunday morning, after a shower and hair wash, I went to get us coffee while John went to the suite to snag us seats for Strict Dave’s Punishment Court. We had a full house for that, and he did not disappoint: the cases were hilarious. And of course, Alex took SC to court for her antics at HoneySalt (SC lost). John said she should have called him as a witness, because he would have thrown me under the bus and said that I gave her the pen.

Backtrack a bit — a few months ago, Alex, SC and I were shopping, and we came upon a tank top that we had to have, so all three of us bought one. The plan was for us to wear them at this party, named 50 Freaks, but you know how plans go sometimes. Poor Alex was so busy and stressed out and overloaded before coming, she forgot to pack hers. So, you’ll just have to imagine her as a third person in this picture (although she did take it for us).

SC and me, getting our freak on:

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After Court, several people went for a very late brunch to a nearby bar and grill, but John and I decided to pass on that and just hung out in the room for a while until we were ready to go nap. Sunday night had no activities planned, just free for everyone to come and go as they pleased, so we lingered in our room, packing some of our stuff, and watching the last hour of the Oscars (what a crazy upset that was!) After that, we went for a light dinner at one of the hotel’s restaurants and at a little after 10, rejoined the party for the last night.

I think at this point I need to mention Michael Masterson. I thought we were going to play, truly I did. A while back on FetLife, he had written a post talking about how he operates at parties, and he said he never asks people to play. That if you want to play with him, a surefire way to make that happen is to brat him. So, because I figured it was time for me to grow a pair and face the Mighty Masterson, I bratted him on FetLife. And I got added to his personal list.

So, I’m not really sure what happened. We had several encounters at this party, lots of greetings. I was playfully sassing him throughout; at one point, I even reached out with my foot and nudged him as he was passing. He came over, hugged me and said, “Bad girl, don’t kick me!” I answered, “I was just trying to get your attention!” On Sunday night, I was sitting on the couch with Jaibug, and he came over, complimenting my outfit for the evening and saying he liked my glasses. Were they new? “No,” I replied. “I had them on last time. You just weren’t looking at me.” “Oh, that’s not nice, bad girl,” he scolded. Then he proceeded to pick up a purple balloon. “You’re getting three; count them!” he warned. And then he bopped me on the head with the balloon, three times, as I counted them out loudly.

After, he asked, “What do you say?” Without hesitation, I called out, “Fuck you, sir!” He pulled a paddle out of his back pocket and said, “Would you care to rephrase that?” Shrinking up against Jaibug, I answered meekly, “Screw you, sir?” I thought that was going to be it, but he just laughed, said I was too much, and went to get something sharp so he could loudly pop the balloon, now in my lap.

He did ask if I was going to the next big party, and I said no — it’s either tonight, or he’ll have to wait until Shadow Lane. “That sounds like a challenge,” he said, to which I answered, “Take it as you will!” with a cheeky grin.

But still, it didn’t happen. Was it because I was sick? Was he being cautious? Was he just too busy? I dunno. Whatever the reason, I remain still untouched by Michael Masterson. Damn. He was autographing butts this weekend and everything. Oh! Almost forgot — on Sunday night, when I was trying to maneuver around tightly packed bodies and furniture to reach my purse, I kicked over Michael’s beer, which was sitting on the carpet beside the couch! Ugh! I was so effing clumsy this weekend! Oh my God… I was afraid he’d think I did it on purpose to brat him! (The girls do the most outrageous things to this man.) He thundered, “Did you just kick over my beer??” but when he saw me with both hands clapped over my mouth, I think he could see it was truly not intentional!

Because it was the last night, and I was already sore, not to mention sick, I was trying very hard to make my best choices for who I wanted to play with. If I had been well, I would have agreed to more scenes, but as it was, I had to prioritize. I played with JC, because I like him so much and he and Piper are always so sweet to me. He didn’t use any of his implements, even though he had a massive toy bag. I’ve told him on several occasions that he doesn’t need a single one of those things — he’s got a hand that could make me say mercy, and I can’t say that about too many!

And of course, because it isn’t a party weekend without a full-body double flogging from Fineous, I got to indulge in that later in the evening, off in one of the bedrooms. Next to us on the other bed, Princess Kelley and Sir Siq were double-strapping the bejesus out of Maddy Marks, but I was so spacey and floaty, I completely tuned it out, although occasionally their banter drifted into my ear and I smiled into the pillow. The flogging relaxed me, took out all the knots and tension, and I felt very serene afterward. I got back into my clothes, but then decided to go back to our room to change out of my skirt, sweater and heels and into yoga pants and t-shirt, and I dispensed with shoes altogether.

More chat, more hanging out, more watching. Things weren’t even beginning to wind down; clearly, this last blowout was going to continue all night. All weekend, Joe and his girlfriend Mackenzie had taken care of us all, keeping us fed and hydrated, entertaining us, organizing us, making sure people were happy, and Joe had doled out plenty of spankings. Now, here it was 2:00 a.m. on the last night, and I overheard Joe said it was time for him to let go and become Malibu Joe (which is his code name — I have no idea how it originated — for getting blotto drunk). I can’t blame him; hosting these weekends is damn hard work! But I knew this was my last chance, so as he headed toward the bar, I intercepted him and said, “Noooooo, not yet, Joe! We have to play!” He laughed, and we were able to grab one of the massage tables where a scene was just ending. I lay on it with a pillow bolster under my hips.

As I’d mentioned, I was “out of shape” for this party. My scenes, while wonderfully enjoyable, were also somewhat painful. A part of me was wondering if I was going to ever feel like my old self again. And then Joe started. And the magic happened.

He warmed me up with his hands, then started in with implements, often using one in each hand. Floggers. Straps. That thick heavy strap that SDSpanko had used. Something else. I had no idea what it all was. The party went away, I closed my eyes, and all I did was feel and hear impact. I trust Joe 100% with anything in his hands, so I didn’t have engage any part of my brain being concerned about stray shots. As the scene progressed and he paused, my mind screamed, “Don’t stop. More. Harder. Please.” I didn’t speak, but I know I was raising my butt up higher, because Joe read me and continued. He checked in with me once, I said all was perfect, and we got even deeper into it. For that few minutes, I wasn’t sick. I wasn’t tired. I wasn’t out of condition. I was in the bliss of subspace, the blows feeling like kisses. I could have gone on and on and on, even though guttural groans were now coming out of my throat and Joe was doing a finale of slamming his hands onto both my cheeks at the same time. Oh, so good. I collapsed onto the table, one foot hanging off the side, and just breathed as he massaged me, rubbed lotion into my punished skin. So. Very. Good.

Somehow, I peeled myself off that table (people were waiting to use it, after all), set my clothes to rights, and gave Joe a massive hug, sending him off to Malibu-land with my blessing. After that, I was so spaced out, I didn’t want to talk, so I found a free spot on one of the couches and curled up, wrapping myself in a warm blanket that had been left there. And I just watched everything for a while, until I was joined by MaMa Blue and a lovely young woman whose scene name I don’t know, so I will just call her B.

In retrospect, I should have ended the night there. I was played out, it was late, and we were getting up at 7:00 a.m., just a few hours from now. But on these final nights of these spanking/socializing extravaganzas, one gets a strong attack of FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out), and I wanted to linger to the last possible minute, wring out every drop of enjoyment and camaraderie.

But then something happened. No, not to me directly. But it was something that triggered me deeply, and I got very upset. I tried to brazen it out, but then abruptly I got up and left the room, going into one of the bedrooms. There, I guess exhaustion and sickness and the sudden tsunami of emotion overtook me, because I burrowed into a chair at the far wall of the room, wrapped the blanket around me, and wept. Quietly, but still. People saw me. There was a very intricate bondage/suspension scene happening on the bed, and I did not want to disrupt that. John, MaMa and B came into the room, sat around me, shielded me as best they could, so people wouldn’t see me crying. I kept trying to pull myself together, but then I’d break down again. John went to find tissues for me and couldn’t find any, so he ended up bringing me a roll of toilet paper. One sweet woman who goes by the name RBG (I call her Ruth Bader Ginsburg) subtly slipped over and brought me a bottle of cold water. MaMa showed me cat videos on her phone and sang “Here Comes The Sun” to me; such a tenderhearted soul she is.

No, I don’t want to say what happened that upset me. Because I know I will be judged for my feelings, or I will be perceived as judgmental myself. And I just don’t need that shit, you know?

I suppose I should have just left. But I knew if I did, I wouldn’t come back, and I so wanted to say my final goodbyes. So there I sat, for about an hour. Finally, at 3:45, I was ready to get up. But by then, I was so wiped out, my eyes were swollen, I was so tired I felt delirious, so I really didn’t get to make the rounds of goodbyes after all. The party was still in full swing, so I hugged the people closest to the door and then walked out, not even waiting for John, who was saying his own goodbyes.

Not a nice way to end a party weekend. I wish it hadn’t happened. But I also cannot let it taint all the rest. Because in the end, it balanced out, sickness and all, to be a damn good party.

And so, we tumbled into bed about 4:45 a.m., only to arise a couple of hours later. I was so wiped out, the room actually spun when I got up, and spun again when I was in the bathroom; it looked like the floor tiles were swirling under my feet. But once I showered, I regained my equilibrium; we finished packing, loaded the car, checked out, got coffee, and were on the road by 8:00. I think this was the earliest we’d ever left, but it worked out well. Even with two stops (snack and bathroom) and a grocery run for John, we got back to his place by 1:00. Somehow, I got myself home, brought the rental back (bye bye, Lexus! You were luxurious!), settled in and collapsed, sleeping all afternoon and well into the evening.

Tuesday I lay low. I was still processing what had happened, and I was sick as a dog now. But by Wednesday, I had recovered enough to get back to work and start catching up with online stuff. I even exercised a bit, although there was no way I was going to the gym, not with all the hacking and sniffling I was doing.

I was plenty sore, but unmarked. Still, I find myself afflicted with “sandpaper butt,” so I guess I’ll need to exfoliate in the shower at some point! So, so happy to play again. I hadn’t realized just how much I missed it.

Back to reality. My entire March is slammed with work, and I don’t think there will be much down time. It’s OK. I had my play time. And I need the focus, because it keeps me (somewhat, anyway) out of trouble. So I don’t know how much posting I’ll be doing. This is it for a while, I think.

For everyone who talked to me, played with me, hugged me and cuddled with me despite my having the plague, laughed with me, ate with me, made me forget life for a while… thank you. I love you all so much. Joe and Kenzie, “thank you” isn’t enough for all you did for us, and continue to do. MaMa and B, for your compassion and support when I was in a bad way, I am so grateful. And if I forgot anyone I played with, I am SO sorry. If need be, I’ll come back and edit, add stuff I omitted.

On a final note: three women, on three separate occasions during the weekend, unexpectedly said very sweet things to me, so kind and genuine that I was nearly touched to tears each time. To The Bad Alex (yeah, I know you renamed yourself The Real Good Alex, but we all know that’s BS), Ashley, and Sum_Nightsdream, thank you, ladies. ♥

Thanks for reading, if you’ve gotten this far. Have a good weekend, y’all.

What happens in Vegas…

…ends up on my blog, apparently. 🙂 Well, at least the pictures do.

A few more from our wacky weekend. Here’s the “prisoner” lineup from the Judicial Punishment roleplay scene. I would do a “left to right,” but honestly, I don’t remember who’s who. It’s me on the far left, though. Photo taken by FunAllowed. And yes, I complained about how lousy I look in orange.

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This one was taken by FunAllowed after the epic scene with him, Adriana, Alex, and the Hitachi. (I cut off his “Vegas ’16” signature only because I thought the photo was too wide.) Alex is having a bit of a wardrobe malfunction, it seems. Actually, so is Adriana. FA spanked her so hard, her earring fell out.

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And finally… I did tell you we had a naughtier photo from the bathtub scene and I needed permission to post it, no? Well, I got it.

So, this happened…  (photo by Englishman_in_CA)

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I think the only way this photo could be more awesome is if I could show SC’s face. She looked rather diabolical, take my word for it. The three of us in a bathtub in Vegas is shaping up to be an annual tradition!

But speaking of faces… just what the hell is going on with mine? LOL! I was going for an “Uh oh, busted!!” face. Instead, I ended up looking like… yeah, this guy:

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Or this one…

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Oh well. I’m being egotistical. Never mind my face — how cute is Alex? 😀

Finally getting over this flu or whatever the hell it was. Might even see Steve tomorrow! (fingers crossed) It’s been way too long. Meanwhile, work beckons.

In case you missed them, the three-part adventures of 50 Freaks are here, here and here.

50 Freaks 2016, part 3

OK, enough already with this; I need to finish it. No excuses today, as I have finished my work and I’m also feeling somewhat human again. There are still tons of pictures I haven’t gotten yet, but oh well. I have to record this before my fevered brain forgets everything.

Saturday was the most up-and-down day, I think. Poor John has stomach distress during the night and wasn’t feeling well when we got up. There was a gathering Joe calls TTYL (Tights, Thongs, Yoga pants and Leggings) in the suite from 1-3, so we went for a quick bite in the café. (They closed Café Siena, which really bummed me out — I loved that place! But they sorta resurrected it in a smaller version now called, most originally, The Café.) I got John some Pepto-Bismol and he managed to eat some breakfast, but he wasn’t looking good. When we arrived at the suite at 1:20 for TTYL, there were about six people there. I took one look at John, slumped on the couch, and made a decision. “Come on,” I said.”Let’s go back to our room. Nothing is happening here, and we both need sleep.” He protested once, weakly, then gave in.

Damn. I had really cute leggings on, too.

Anyway. We slept through the afternoon, missing all of TTYL. At 5:00, they were having Club Finn, a new gathering for this party, which was to be a kind of a spa setting for the spankees (massages, baths, chocolates and other treats, sensual flogging, etc.). Normally, I would have loved to try this, but I was so worried about John and feeling disconnected again. Had it not been for SC and Alex texting me to ask where I was, I might have gotten back into bed and slept through until dinnertime. SC asked if we were “ready for a bath,” and there was no way I was going to turn down a repeat performance of our bath time last year, so I pulled myself together and met them at the suite, which was now hopping.

Unfortunately, the big tub was already in use. But SC took one look at my face and said, “Let’s go use the tub in our room. It’s smaller, but I think we need some girl time.” So the three of us left the main suite and headed by to SC & Alex’s room. Yes, the tub was substantially smaller, but it was still lovely. I felt myself relax and my spirits perk up as I sat with my besties and had some down time and giggles.

Pictures, you say? But of course. Thanks to E for assuming camera duty.

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Jeez, my poor butt. Me on the right, Alex center, SC left. There is one more that’s a little naughtier, but I haven’t gotten SC’s OK to post that yet. Maybe later. 😀

I came back to our room to wash my hair and dress for our dinner at the Steakhouse. We’ve booked the banquet room at that restaurant every year and it’s always delightful; we’ve even had the same server each year. John managed to get up and dressed, insisting he was OK to go, but I didn’t believe him; he was white as a sheet. When I was ready, we met at SC & Alex’s room, then went to 960, where our group gathered and then trooped down to the Steakhouse.

There was a change this year, which was a bit off-putting. We’d always had access to the full menu, so we could have lots of variety, order sides, share stuff, etc. This year, the management decided to get pissy and tell Joe that he had to accept a limited Prix Fixe menu at a flat $50 per person, beverages not included, no substitutions. Humph! Fortunately, one of the choices was salmon, so I was fine. But still. John, who was getting sicker by the minute, managed to coerce our server into just bringing him a salad, no dinner. However, he only made it through a few bites of his salad before he put down his fork and looked like he was going to face plant right into it. I couldn’t stand it anymore. “Please,” I begged him. “Don’t put yourself through this. Go back to our room and go to bed.” He always tries to be so damn stoic, but this was ridiculous — he was clearly very sick. Finally, he gave up, handed me some cash to pay for dinner, and left.

The rest of the dinner was a little subdued for me. I had good company: Across from me were E and SC, Alex, and Maddy Marks and her man Siq (yes, that’s pronounced “sick”). To my right were Princess Kelley and her daddy MrOMK (who very kindly shared his chocolate cake with me). But I missed John. Still, I was relieved he’d stopped pushing himself and given in to go rest, and my salmon was delicious, so I made the best of it. We all looked really nice, having dressed up. There were many LBDs, but Alex was in fire-engine red and Maddy was in white. Me? I bucked the solid color trend altogether — I wore stripes.

After dinner, I went back to our room to check on John; it was around 10:15, I think. He had been sleeping, but woke up and seemed to be doing a little better. I told him I’d be going to the suite and he should stay and rest. He asked if I was going to change out of my finery into something more comfortable, and I said not yet — they were have a midnight presentation of the Spanking Blogg Awards, and there would be pictures, so I would get into PJs after that was done. He said he would try to make it to that. I went down to get him some more meds, came back up and gave them to him, freshened up and then headed to 960.

What can I say about the awards presentation, other than it was one of the highest points of my weekend? I won 2nd place Creative Blogger and 3rd place Lifetime Achievement for a spanking model. The latter was especially mind-boggling, considering I started out doing this as a lark and never imagined I’d end up doing it for 15+ years. And Joe, bless his heart, had gone all out; he’d had trophies made for not only the 1st place winners, but 2nd and 3rd as well. So he made a nice little presentation of it. And of course, John did make it. The applause that resounded when my name was called was especially gratifying too. ♥

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Afterward, the winners in attendance piled into the hallway where the lighting was better and others weren’t around, so people could take pictures, including John Osbourne of TripleAAA, who put this whole awards thing together on his blog and to whom we all owe a huge thanks! It was a little crazy with so many cameras on us and all the rotations of models, producers, etc. — we didn’t know which camera to look at! But here’s a nice shot of some of us, and someone already gave us IDs. As you can see, Michael Masterson, the kingpin of Real Spankings, was in our midst. It was great to finally meet him. He’s not a party-goer, so this was new for him. I think he had a blast.

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Here, we were clearly confused as to where to look!  🙂 Eve is in the center and John Osbourne is on the left.

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There were many more, but this is all I have so far. So many wonderful winners and I was so very thrilled.

John seemed OK to sit quietly on the couch and observe, so I milled about. Eve Howard shot this pic of T&S and me — I was a bit horrified when she sent it to me. I looked utterly exhausted, my face in shadows. I tweaked with the lighting and exposure and made myself look human, but still tired. I think the lack of sleep and worry over John was taking its toll. Still, it’s a nice shot with a long-time friend. 🙂

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Late in the evening, Michael InspectHerHide approached me and said he was leaving the next day, and he’d love to do a final scene with me. I had not played at all that day, so I happily agreed. Once again he took me back to his room, where he proceeded to pull the padded bench at the foot of the bed into the center of the room, piled it with pillows and bade me to lie over it. He then opened the curtains to let all the moonlight and city lights in, and dimmed the room’s lights. A delicious spanking and strapping ensued. Michael is another one I can trust with anything in his hands — I knew the strap strokes would fall with precision, and they did, every one. Right down to the grand finale — forty strokes on each cheek. So OK, I played only once on Saturday, but it was one hell of a scene. Thank you again, Michael. So many lovely scenes over the years with you and me.

John had left to go to bed a while back, and I managed to stay in the room until 3:30 before I thought, “What the hell are you doing? Go get some sleep.” And so I did.

Sunday, we slept in. John felt a bit better, although we mutually decided to skip brunch and went straight to the suite for Strict Dave’s CP Court at 1:00. I got coffee for both of us and brought John a baggie full of crackers to nibble on. Court was fun and crowded as always — Alex had left early that morning, but SC & E joined us and sat close by. Afterward, SC came and chatted with us for a while, since E went to the roulette table. We were joined by Johnny, who brought us a plate of chocolates and raspberries left over from Club Finn — nice of him!

There’s been a party event the past few years called Judicial Punishment — kind of a role-play, where the tops get dressed up as prison guards and the “prisoners” wear orange t-shirts. The punishments are delivered on the St. Andrew’s cross, and the choices of implement are cane, prison strap, or paddle. I’d always thought it sounded kind of brutal, but then I talked it over with Joe and learned a few things I didn’t know. Not only did you get to choose your implement, but you could also choose the number of strokes, the level of severity (light, medium, hard, very hard), and the guard who would give them. Knowing that I had so much control and it was more of a head space thing than anything, I decided to give it a try.

It was at 5:00 that afternoon, and several women had signed up for it. This time, the choices of tops were Johnny and StrictDave, with Fineous and Snow Mercy acting as guards and Joe doing all the announcements and counts. The “prisoners” were kept sequestered in the bedroom as we were called out, one by one. We were supposed to be very, very quiet, but there was a fair amount of whispering and giggling going on. We couldn’t help it — it’s nerve-racking sitting there waiting! Joe, when announcing each stroke, would make a noise sort of like a “Hup!” After hearing several of these “Hups,” I commented that Joe sounded like he had the hiccups. That sent us all into such giggles that Strict Dave came in to glare at us all.

Finally I was called in, and was handcuffed to the cross. Johnny and I had negotiated 12 cane strokes, medium. But something got screwed up and Joe announced six! Argggh. Six was nothing! But it was still fun and intense and going into the “aftercare pile” (a large area piled up with blankets and pillows) was fun. A fun lineup picture was taken also… nope, don’t have that yet either. (sigh) But soon!

SC & E were going for dinner and a show on the Strip, and John & I were tired anyway, so we decided to sleep a little bit, then went for a late dinner on our own at the oyster/sushi bar in the hotel. John was well enough to manage a small meal, for which I was grateful. It was time for the final night of the party, the ultimate wind-down.

So much chatting that last night. It’s going to be a while before the next party for us, after all. Harley (we enjoyed rehashing the silliness at our shoot the weekend prior), Maddy and Siq, T&S and his lovely girlfriend Bella Bijou, my sweet Pruxie, the ever-spunky and adorable Sarah Rocks, whom we hadn’t seen since 2010 at FMS, Ten and her boyfriend M, Samantha, JaiBug, and so many more. My voice was starting to go hoarse and I was coughing a bit, but I figured that was due to all the talking.

John O. and I did a fun scene front-and-center on the massage table, with his hand, strap and cane. He took me up and down with tap-tap-taps and biting little strokes, nothing horribly hard, because well, my butt was thrashed. It was delicious and I felt like a purring contented cat atop that table. Funny how the cane can be such an evil thing, but it can be quite sensual as well when the top moderates the stroke.

I have yet to experience a party weekend without a Fineous flogging, but I feared this one might be the first. Until he suddenly appeared around 1:30 a.m., sat next to me and said, “I was afraid I wasn’t going to catch up with you this weekend. You got a scene left in you?” Of course I did. Off we went to find bed space in the bedroom, and I got a delicious double flogging over my entire body, like a perfect firm massage to end the weekend. When I came back to earth, I saw that SC had returned and she and John were deep in conversation. We moved into the main room and were joined by Joe. As I sat there in LaLaLand, I suddenly felt very cold and shivery. Looking back now, I can see it was the beginning of my illness, but I chalked it up to subspace. Glancing across the room, I saw Siq on the couch and it looked like he had a pile of blankets next to him, so I made my way over there. I was just reaching for one of them when I realized that buried under that pile was Maddy, sleeping. Ooops! Fortunately, a kind soul directed me to an unused blanket and I swaddled myself in it, returning to my chair.

Strict Dave joined us, and after a while, turned to me and said, “We haven’t played for a while. Have you got anything left in you?” Ah, damn. I didn’t. I really didn’t. Not even a feather stroke; I was done. So, although playing with Strict Dave is a wild and intense ride, I had to regretfully tell him no. “Next time?” “Yes, please!” Shortly thereafter, John and I pulled ourselves together and said our reluctant final goodbyes. We didn’t get to bed until nearly 4:00… and the alarm was set for 7:00. Blech.

I don’t know how John did it — he managed to get up even earlier than that and get a load of stuff down to the car while I slept on, oblivious. His stomach was better, but now he was starting to cough. Oh, we were a pair! But I felt better after a shower, and we got ourselves all packed, checked out, supplied with coffee, and on the road by 8:00. I was tired and my throat was raspy, but again, I figured it was lack of sleep and interaction overload. We made it to John’s in a record four hours (with one stop for Dairy Queen smoothies and their restroom), and I helped him unpack his stuff before I headed home.

So. I managed to get home, refill the gas tank, unpack the car and deliver it back to Enterprise. They took me home, and then I unpacked my suitcases, sorted through the mail, and fired up the computer. By around 5:00, I noticed my back was aching and I felt even more fatigued than before, so I crawled into my bed for a while. When I woke up at 8:00, I wondered how a bus had gotten into my apartment and run over me. I was full-on sick. Stayed up just two hours, then went back to bed at 10. And I did not get out of bed until 3:30 the next afternoon, no lie. Well, except to use the bathroom. Fever, chills, body ache, cough, blah blah blah. I thought about the unbelievable timing. What did I say before the weekend? Something along the lines of “I just want to be well for the party. Afterward, I could get pneumonia for all I care.” OK, so I didn’t mean that literally, but it damn near happened anyway. But I don’t care. The only reason I had to get out of bed this week was because I had work to do. Otherwise, my schedule was blissfully open, and I’d arranged that on purpose, but I didn’t know just how necessary it would be. I managed to get two books edited after I came home this week, but nothing else. Tonight I will straggle over to John’s — he came down with this flu thing too, so we can cough and commiserate. It’s going to be a rainy weekend and we can bundle up and veg out. I am content.

Another 50 Freaks come and gone. (Technically, this time, it was 106 Freaks.) Again, a lot of ups and downs, and some real-life interference encroaching (not just my own, but with friends too, unfortunately), but overall? One hell of a weekend, yet again. Thank you, Joe, and all your helpers/assistants who worked with you to make this happen and keep it going. Thank you, John O., for your wonderful work in gathering our awards. Thank you to my play partners, my friends, people who stopped to talk to me, hug me, smile at me, give me happy moments. SC and Alex, I ♥ you two to bits. And of course… my beloved John, without whom none of this is really possible, because it wouldn’t be anywhere near as much fun doing it alone.

Over and out. Have a great weekend, y’all.

50 Freaks 2016, Part 2

Upon further communications in social media, I’ve discovered there was indeed some sort of plague going around Vegas. With John and myself included, so far I’ve numbered seventeen people who are sick. Fascinating.

Friday morning, I got a text from SC, asking if we’d like to join her group for breakfast. She was rooming with her guy (I’ll refer to him as E for Englishman), Alex, another Alex (known as The Bad Alex), and one more woman whose scene name I don’t know so I will call her A, and the five of them had gone to a nearby restaurant. John Googled the address, but it was still hard to find, not knowing the area, and we took a while to get there. But once we did, it was definitely worth the effort! I love shared meals at these gatherings, where people are relaxed, happy, not in play mode, just kicking back and enjoying with friends. E & SC had to leave early because they were scheduled to do a straight-razor shaving demo (and no, we aren’t talking about E’s face), so A left with them while John and I lingered with the two Alexes. We caught the end of the demo, but discreetly positioned ourselves in back of SC so we couldn’t see anything. We adore our friend, but didn’t find it necessary to view her quite so intimately!! (I think she appreciated that. When John commented afterward that we’d seated ourselves out of the line of vision, she cracked something along the lines of, “Good, so I don’t have to avoid looking you in the eye for the rest of the weekend?”)

We hung out in the suite into the afternoon, and I did a scene with Tom from Chicago. After a lot of chatting and mingling, it was nap time. On Friday evening, a portion of our group was going to Caesar’s Palace to ride on the giant Ferris Wheel that overlooks the city, in a pod that Joe had rented for a half hour. Spanking was allowed, but skirts were to remain down and panties were to remain up, Joe was firmly informed. Afterward, people were going to hang out on the strip, have dinner, whatever. So John and I knew that Friday night we’d be on our own. I think that’s where I first had that disconnected feeling. In fact, I ended going back to our room for a while, feeling teary-eyed and at loose ends, wanting to play but not wanting to ask people, wanting to chat and yet not feeling like it. So silly, and such a waste of perfectly good party time. But it happens. Emotions run high at these events.

With John’s help, I picked myself back up and went back to the suite, and when people started coming back from the Caesar’s event, the party livened back up. I sat at the bar talking with R — I’d taken my glasses off and had them perched on my leg. He picked them up and began cleaning them, lecturing me on how dirty they were. Well! One thing led to another and we ended up doing our second scene. This one was quite lively — he then complained because he could see the tag in my panties. “You don’t like my glasses! You don’t like the tag in my pantie! Anything else?” I snarked. “Why don’t you just rip it out with your teeth if it bothers you so much?” “I would if I could!” he retorted. When he thought we were done, he said, “OK, up you go, kiddo.” No way! “What, that’s it?” I blurted for the second time that weekend. “Lightweight!” Accepting the challenge, he gave me more. Good.

From what I hear, after he got me, R went on to spank both SC and Alex in succession. I’d been telling them how much fun he was to play with, and this was the first time for them both. I didn’t see Alex afterward, but I watched as SC came staggering out of the bedroom with her hair disheveled (he likes to run his hand through hair, it seems), and the look on her face was one I will forever think of as “the after-R face.” Yes, she was pleased.

Soon after that, there was quite the free-for-all scene going on in one of the bedrooms with Alex, Adriana (Evans) and Fun Allowed. Adriana was sprawled face down on the bed, with FA whaling on her bare bottom, while Alex knelt on the carpet at her side, wielding a ginormous Hitachi wand. R and I joined in, sort of — he held down one of her legs, and I sat on the bed at her head, acting as a bumper to keep her from sliding forward as she writhed around. I stroked her hair while she reacted most vociferously to the Hitachi, over and over again. And if I had one picture, it would be of Alex’s face as she gleefully tortured Adriana — how does such a sweet girl look so diabolical?? 😀 I know there were pictures taken of this, but I haven’t seen any turn up yet. Oh, and a side note: While all this extreme hotness was exploding, what did R notice? That the Hitachi wand cord had a knot in it. LOL! Is someone just a wee bit OCD?

The night went on, and at 2:20 a.m., I was deep in conversation with The Artist Formerly Known As Ralph Marvell (AKA Tall & Strict on FetLife). As we chatted, Joe approached and said, “Erica! We had a 2:20 appointment!” I blinked, at a loss for words temporarily, and John chimed in with, “Yeah, honey! I told you about that!” Oh, sure he did. Well, who was I to argue — it was two against one, after all. “To be continued?” I said to T&S, and he agreed.

As it had been in the past few parties, the St. Andrew’s cross was up against the wall. I played on it last Shadow Lane, in an attempt to dispel the bad memory I had of a cross scene many years ago, and it helped. So when Joe suggested we switch things up a bit and try the cross, I was game. I needed to do something bold and different, get out of my head, with a trusted partner. This was it.

I took off my dress and stood at the cross in a brief thong and my bra, my hands gripping the upper part of the X, my back arched. I didn’t know what Joe was going to use, and I didn’t care. If I may, I need to stop for a moment and express just how much of a pleasure it is to know that a top is so good, so conscientious, that I can trust him with anything in his hands and know I can relax, carefree, fully into the scene. Only a select few can go there with me. Once we started, I closed my eyes and hunkered down for the ride.

The scene is a blur. All I remember is Joe’s hard hand, then a very hard strap, and some guttural moaning coming from somewhere. Oh, wait. That was me. More. More. Give me more. I want this. I didn’t care that it was only Friday night. It was Joe. It was OK. All was good. I felt him checking in, testing my skin, pressing his hand into me. I gave myself over to him. I think he ended the scene when he saw that my legs had begun to shake and was concerned that they might buckle.

He gently took me out of position, sat down with me in a nearby chair and held me in his lap while I shook all over and gasped for breath. I made him laugh when my first coherent words were “That’s what I’m talking about!”

“I’ve never heard you growl before,” he grinned. Somehow, with his help, I managed to stumble over to the couch and collapse on top of both John and T&S, and Joe brought me a blanket and a bottle of water. I was toast. Friday was done.

When I went to the bathroom to take a look, I did a double take. That couldn’t be me. I was marked. Not in weird spot off to the side or down below, but on my butt proper, both cheeks, fully marked. Holy crap. I couldn’t believe it. I had John take a picture, back in our room. For those who don’t like seeing marked bottoms, you might want to scan past this.

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I know. It was Friday night, with two more nights ahead. How do I explain that I was OK with this? I can’t. I just know that because it was Joe, and because I love him and trust him, that this was good. I wanted it. From a casual play partner, no. From a stranger playing with me for the first time? Hell no! But from a friend, a top of Joe’s caliber? Yes. I told him, “Joe, I don’t care if I don’t play for the rest of the party; this is the weekend scene for me.” And I meant it. My head space had been all in turmoil; now I was calm. Now I was fully invested in the party. (And of course, I did play again over the next couple of days. What am I, an amateur? 😉 )

Even if you don’t like marks, you have to give credit to his flawless precision. Not one stroke out of bounds — nothing too high or too how, no wrapping. Equal attention to both cheeks. It doesn’t get any more perfect, kids. And no, I’m not talking about my butt. I’m talking about a top’s handiwork.

John put me to bed with ice packs and we went to sleep around 4:00, I think? And now I’m fading again. Damn this illness. But I should get some work done anyway, before my brain completely disintegrates for the day.

Part 3 coming soon.

50 Freaks 2016, part 1

Sorry this is later than I usually put up party reports. However, I have excuses. First and foremost, within hours of my returning from Vegas, I was slammed with Major Sickness. And second, I had work that needed doing, so the precious little functioning energy I had needed to be reserved for that. But more on that later. Can I just say how grateful I am for this timing? If I had felt like this over the weekend, that would have been it. The whole party would have been down the drain. But I think my body is stubborn. It held off, and it held off, and it held off some more, and finally, when I walked back inside my front door, the germs said, “Okay, you’re home now… POW!!”

Anyway. It was quite a weekend. Many highs, a few lows, little sleep, some incredible scenes, old friends, new friends. I confess to being in a strange head space on and off throughout the party — I don’t know why. Sometimes I felt… I don’t know, disconnected somehow. But it was no one’s fault, just my own weirdness. Who knows, perhaps it was a precursor to getting sick. But despite that, overall, the weekend was a success, and I have a fresh crop of memories.

(Ooooh! As I write, the Big Bang Theory repeat with Sheldon spanking Amy just came on. Win.)

Many pictures were taken, but I don’t have most of them yet. So stay tuned for a future post to add those.

The drive to Vegas was a piece of cake, since it was a Thursday and not a holiday weekend. We checked in, lugging what looked like at least a week’s worth of baggage (I am not the only one who overpacks, clearly). But we both have the same motto: better to overpack than underpack, and since we’re driving, who cares? We got to our room, unpacked, and settled in for a nap. Our room didn’t have the pretty golf-course view this time, but we still had a nice overview of the city, being on the ninth floor. The weather was pleasant, high 70s. Not that it mattered, since I didn’t intend to go outside much. 🙂 The faint vertical lines you see are the reflection of the blinds.

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At 8:30 (after watching Big Bang Theory‘s 200th episode — sorry, I had to), we headed for Joe’s room, the ever-hopping, open 24 hours Suite 960. Hugs hugs hugs! So many greetings! It’s all kind of a blur, that first night. If I try to start naming names, I will inevitably forget someone, so I will mention people as they come up in the story.

My first scene of the weekend was with InspectHerHide Michael, as is often my pattern. I really wasn’t up for anything heavy to start with, or a raucous public scene — I was feeling a little overwhelmed with all the people and noise, not having acclimated to it yet. Michael knew exactly what I needed — he took me to his room and we had a lovely, light, quiet scene, a weekend warm-up that left me feeling tranquil and ready to rejoin the crowd. Thank you, my friend!

And my second scene? The oh-so-delicious R, at his very first 50 Freaks. He’s been to a couple of Shadow Lane parties, and Alex, SpankCake and I were so enamored of him, we got him to come to this. He and I seem to have a “spot” — the suite bathroom, where he spanks me on the vanity bench, facing the wall of windows. So delicious. Did I mention he’s tall and cute and has a full head of very sexy prematurely gray hair? (Why is it that gray hair looks good on a man, dammit?) But good looks only go so far — he’s also sweet, and very polite.

At midnight, we had the annual Midnight Flogging (sorry, no pictures yet), which was over far too soon! In fact, when Joe announced it was done, I squawked, “What… that’s it??” Harrumph! No worries… there would be plenty of time for more flogging. And Fineous, the King of Floggers was there. I had hoped that SC would make it for the flogging, but she and her guy, Englishman in CA (his Fet name) ran into horrible traffic/road construction/blockage on their way and didn’t arrive in time. I put my clothes back on and went back in the main room, where John and I stayed until about 2:00, I think. No sense in pushing too hard the first night — three more to go!

And on that note, I had this crazy idea that I was going to push through and write about the weekend in one long post. Not a chance; I’m still sick and it’s 11:20 — I am fading. It is time to take some CVS knock-off of Nyquil (hey, it’s cheaper and it’s 10% alcohol) and pass out. Maybe by tomorrow I’ll get some more pictures? To be continued.

This time tomorrow…

…we’ll be on the road!

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Pedicure done, bang trim done, laundry done, snacks purchased, rental car booked — picking it up this afternoon. Packing? Not done. But I will start pulling things together this afternoon/evening and do the final job first thing in the morning. As always, I will bring way too many clothes and about three times as many panties as I’ll actually need.

Here we come, 50 Freaks 2016! Midnight flogging scheduled for Thursday, and all kinds of fun stuff to follow. I can’t wait to see everyone. (50 Freaks has become quite the misnomer, as we’re about three to four times that large now!)

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I will not be blogging while there, because it’s just too damn hard to do much of anything on my crappy old phone, but I’ll check for comments. My blog views have been at an all-time low for weeks now (sigh). I am hoping some fun posts when I return will perk things up a bit.

I’m as nervous as a cat in a room full of running vacuum cleaners, as usual. And I’ve been feeling sinus-y the last day or two, but I’m hoping that’s due to the fact that it’s been super dry here and windy, and it’s just irritation. No colds allowed this weekend, dammit! After we come home, I can catch pneumonia for all I care. But I want to be in top form for the next few days and max out on fun. John and I go to only two big parties a year, so they have to count.

Right. Must finish work. Then it’s time to drag half my wardrobe out onto the floor and the bed, and start trying on outfits and coordinating underwear.

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Have a great rest of the week/weekend, y’all.

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