And so it goes

Hello, everyone. Sorry for the absence.

After much thought, going back and forth, changing my mind and then back again, I have decided it’s time to bring this blog to an end.

I have been in the spanking scene for twenty-one years this month, and online for nineteen. I have watched many changes in what became known as social media. In the early days for spanking chat and exploration, there were what was known as newsgroups, and various chat rooms. Often the latter devolved into a bunch of silly cyber spanking, but one could find intelligent conversation if one looked carefully. Then, around 2000, give or take a year, those gave way to chat forums, such as those on MSN and Yahoo, the old Shadow Lane chat board, etc. People posted and chatted and shared and connected. I co-managed a successful forum for a few years and had a blast.

When the forums began to run their course, they were overtaken by a new phenomenon: the spanking blog. Soon, everyone and their second cousin twice removed was blogging. I joined this bandwagon in 2005, on what used to be the hopping place (!): MySpace. My blog there straggled along for a while, trying to find its audience, but there was so much competition. But then two things happened. One, I was listed by our blog queen, Bonnie, who made a point of spotlighting new blogs in her “In With the New” column. Things really picked up for me after that, but I still had a second holy grail to achieve. The buzz in the blogosphere was about a gentleman who went by the name of Chross, who had a weekly list of what he considered the most notable blog posts. If one was lucky enough to be “Chrossed,” they would be treated to a highly gratifying spike in blog hits. But how did one get on Chross’s radar, I wondered? I finally grew so frustrated that I wrote a post called “Who Do I Have to @#$% to Get on Chross’s List?” Apparently, that got his attention. 🙂

After that, wow. Views, comments, etc. skyrocketed. Until MySpace died, and I took the plunge and started a new blog on Blogger in 2010. I flourished there for years, getting Chrossed often, sharing adventures and party stories and photos and scenes and video shoots, as well as bits and pieces of my personal life. When Blogger threatened to censor or shut down all their “adult” blogs, I migrated to WordPress. Turns out it wasn’t necessary, since Blogger backed off, but I don’t regret it.

However, things changed yet again. Slowly but surely, the spanking blog was overtaken by the Tumblr blogs: pictures. Lots and lots and lots of pictures. The lengthy blog entry morphed into quickie sound bites, gifs and jpegs. Comments became likes and reposts. The spanking models, who all used to blog, now opened Tumblr accounts. Twitter came to be, and now, instead of writing party and shoot reports, people tweeted the action as it was happening. There were some exceptions who maintained their popularity (Hermione and Ronnie come to mind, as well as some of the DD/Hoh blogs and some author blogs) but it seemed that overall, the traditional written spanking blog had gone the way of the VCR and the variety show.

Even so, I figured as long as I had stories to tell, experiences to share, connections to make, I’d have an audience. For quite a while, my views remained high thanks to being Chrossed often. But now, it seems even our beloved Chross has given up the ghost. And the annual Spanking Blogg Awards, put together by John Osborne of Triple A, finally eliminated the Best Creative Blogger category last year because it wasn’t getting any nominations. I was lucky enough to win second place in 2015, that award’s final year.

After many years and thousand of words, kids, I’m fresh out of things to say. On topic, anyway. I don’t want to hash and rehash the same discussions; there’s FetLife for that. Scene-wise, things have changed for me. I no longer have a top, and I haven’t played since 50 Freaks in February. I go to two parties a year. I do not shoot anymore, and even if someone were to offer it up, I’m not sure I would do it. I don’t enjoy looking at myself on film anymore — those HD cameras are not kind! And as for my personal life, I have been dealing with a great deal of grief and challenges over the past few months, including an ongoing situation with John that is stressful and scary. But you know, I don’t want to go into that on here anymore either. I have ranted, raved, wept, opened up and laid myself bare (physically and emotionally) in these posts over the years. I think it’s time for that to end. Everyone has problems; they don’t want to hear mine. And if I can’t post on-topic fun stuff, there’s really no point in continuing.

Also, I made the mistake, in a time of weakness, of writing political posts on here. Please. Can we all agree that there’s enough of that shit out there everywhere you look? I mean, really — using a spanking blog, of all things, to push one’s political agenda is arrogant, self-serving and a big waste of time, don’t you think? So I do apologize for that bit of foolishness.

I am not taking this blog down. I want to preserve it, because I’m proud of it. I would like people to be able to refer back to it, reread posts they liked, enjoy the pictures, etc. My life, my heart and my soul are in these pages. So it will remain intact, even though I won’t be adding to it any longer. I will always be grateful for my readers, all the comments, all the feedback. Without you guys, we writers might as well be talking to ourselves. And hey, I even appreciate those hapless dumbasses who gave me so much wonderful CHoS fodder. One more for the road? Sure, why not…

Hi I would like to spanking you hardly but it is turning me on and in the end which will be not short time I would like to have sex or atleast blowjob becouse I don’t want go away horny and I don’t want jerkoffing if you are okay with that or you have some other way to make e come and relax after when I spanking you hard and long tell me

(sigh) Some things never change, I guess. I suggest you come the way you always do — in your mama’s basement in front of your sticky keyboard. And for the last time, fuck off.

I don’t get as much of this nonsense nowadays, but I still see it. Recently, Alex got a critique on her Tumblr that she is neglecting to post pictures of her anus. She’s nicer than I am: I would have replied that if this person wants to see an asshole, they should look in a mirror.

Some of you have my antiquated (but still functional) AOL address. My gmail address is at the end of the About Me section here. I’m still out there, on Facebook, Twitter and FetLife. I have always welcomed polite and civil correspondence (and no, you do not have to agree with me, just don’t be a dick about it), and that will not change.

So what should be my last gasp? Perhaps I’ll just say screw it and reveal all… my real name, my family, the TV shows they worked on…

…

…

…

wait for it…

…

…

…

ready?

…

…

…

Come on, you didn’t really think I’d tell all that, did ya? Besides, I wanted to go out on a Big Bang. 😛

And so this hard-edged, tender-hearted, snarky spanko bids you farewell, in this venue at least. Have a great life, y’all. ♥ ♥ ♥  Thank you for reading.

OT: Car problems, eye woes, and makeovers

Sorry I’ve been MIA, everyone, but it’s been a strange, hectic week with nothing fun, kink-wise, to post. So please bear with me while I give an off-topic ramble of an update.

In the “only you, Erica” file, we have last Saturday night. I was at John’s, and we were walking in the town square. There are always plenty of people out with their dogs, and I love dogs. So I have made a habit of stopping and petting them whenever it’s feasible. (I always ask the owner first.) I seem to have a knack with dogs, as they’re usually responsive to me. Anyway, we saw a young woman with a bull terrier (I don’t know if you can picture one; they are not really large dogs, but they have distinctively shaped large heads). I crouched down and began petting him, and he hunkered down on the sidewalk, wagging his tail furiously. After a bit, I stopped and started to get back up, and I guess he got excited, not wanting the petting to stop. So, as I was bent over him, he suddenly and very quickly lunged upward… and the top of his head slammed into my left eye.

The dog was fine. I, however. was seeing stars. I had my glasses on; I don’t know if that helped absorb the blow or made it worse. At least they didn’t break, thank goodness. My eye didn’t swell or turn red or anything, it just hurt. I figured it would be OK. The owner was very apologetic, BTW.

But the next day, I wasn’t OK. I could see, but I had floaters and flashers in my left eye like I’ve never had before. It looked like clumps of dust were swirling around in my vision, moving in every direction I looked. So that night, I called my HMO’s after-hours number, spoke to an advice nurse, and he said I should try to get in to see an eye doctor the next day (Monday). Easier said than done with my HMO, of course, but after long waits and two call-backs, I had an appointment at 2:00.

Good news… I do not have a detached retina, which requires laser surgery and can lead to blindness if not attended. I do have what is officially known as vitreous detachment — which, in laymen’s terms, is floaters. A big new crop of them, due to this trauma. The doc dilated my eyes and performed several tests; said my retina was fine. There’s nothing that can be done about floaters; they come with age anyway, but this blow really exacerbated the situation. He told me one of two things will happen: this latest batch will fade away in time (could be three to six months), or I’ll get used to them. (sigh)

“Oh, and your vision will be blurry and you’ll be sensitive to light for the next four-five hours,” he added. “How am I supposed to drive home?” I blurted. He said I could if I had sunglasses, which I did. I was supposed to drop my car off to the shop, which was just a couple of blocks away from the hospital, to get a smog certificate for renewing my registration. But, in my distracted state, I forgot the damn DMV document I was supposed to bring… so, with badly impaired vision, I had to drive all the way home and then all the way back to the mechanic. Not my day.

It got better. After I got home — unable to do any work because I couldn’t see — my mechanic called me. Long story short, I went in just to get a freaking smog check and oil change, and it turned out I’m due for a bunch of other maintenance services. Oh, and my right side view mirror holder is broken, and the entire contraption is hanging by a wire. (I knew that; I just kept shoving it back in place.) He can get a replacement from the dealer, but it will be black, not silver, so he’d have to take it to the body shop and get them to match the paint, which would make it cost a lot more. Or… I could get TWO new mirrors, both in black, so they’ll match. Fine. Whatever. Order the fucking things and just fix it.

Steve couldn’t come by Tuesday, and I had no car, so that gave me a full day at home to catch up on work, considering I’d lost so much time on Monday. Got my car at 8:00 that evening; it cost me $1060. Oh well. It’s only money, right?

Onto Wednesday. I needed a break. My workload wasn’t huge, and Alex and SC and I had planned to go to Sephora to get makeovers. (Sephora is a well-known beauty shop with copious skin products, and they are famous for their mini-makeovers. They’re also famous for their high prices. But the makeovers are $50 — if you don’t buy anything — and I had my $50 gift card from Steve, so I figured I’d go for it.) Mind you, I am incredibly unsophisticated when it comes to makeup. I use drug store products. I hate foundation. I never use eye shadow, and I’ve never even tried brow pencil. So I figured I’d learn some new tricks, if nothing else, and would look really smashing for a couple of hours!

So we met at the mall, had lunch, and then headed to Sephora — SC and I had our appointments at 1:00, and then Alex at 2:00. It was a fun process, sitting and having the technician fuss over our faces, transforming them. They ask you what you’d like to focus on, what your preferences are, etc. I said I wanted a polished look overall on my skin, without caking on foundation, and I wanted to see what really done up eyes would look like. Oh, and cover-up for my under-eye bags/circles. Products, products, products — I don’t think I’ve ever had so much makeup on my face. Contouring, priming, shadowing, highlighting. But the finished look was… wow. I looked like me, and yet not. I kept trying to get a decent selfie, and even SC tried to get a couple of shots for me, but I didn’t like any of them. So, I kept the one I found the least objectionable. Ready? Look at Ms. Glamour…

SC and Alex looked stunning, of course. We took a shot of the three of us, but I’d have to block out SC’s gorgeous face, so there’s no point in posting it.

So… here’s where they get ya. You see these results, and you’re hypnotized. Oooh! I want this! and this! and this! I bought only a quarter of the stuff she used on me… and still spent about $140. (Only $90, deducting Steve’s gift card. They don’t charge you for the makeover if you buy $50 or more of products.) And you know what? There’s no way I’m going to be able to reproduce this on my own. But… I guess it won’t kill me to have some decent products. Although I must confess, she did a lousy job on the under-eye concealer. She put a ton of it on… and later that afternoon, I glanced in a mirror and was disconcerted to see that it had settled and caked into my wrinkles, emphasizing them like a beacon. Ack! There has to be a concealer out there that doesn’t do that!

The three of us shopped around for the rest of the afternoon — SC had also brought replacements for the corset she’d bought that was too big for me. They didn’t have the same one in my size, so she actually bought two others and brought them for me to choose! So we had a fashion show in the mall restroom. 🙂 They were both gorgeous, but one fit a bit better than the other.

Got home around six, and got a few hours of work done. I had planned to go to the gym after our expedition, but I was too wiped out.

Funny side note: when it came time to take the makeup off, I went through two Neutrogena makeup remover cloths and one Eye-Q makeup remover pad, and scrubbed my face in the shower with soap and water, and yet when I was drying off, I still had raccoon rings under my eyes, so I used another Eye-Q pad on them. The next morning, I used some toner on a cotton ball and swiped it over my face… and it came up completely saturated with brown. For God’s sake — how do women who wear this s#$% all the time get their skin clean??

Anyway. My car is well. My bank account is depleted. My eye is driving me nuts; it definitely makes my work a bit more challenging, seeing crud float in front of my eye while I’m staring at the computer. So I take breaks often. This too shall pass, I hope. Who else do you know who has been head-butted by a dog??

Have a great weekend, y’all.

Great minds think alike

On Wednesday night, Alex, SpankCake and I met for dinner and chat. It was also a belated birthday celebration, since the three of us weren’t able to get together a couple of weeks ago. We’re all so busy lately and these times are precious.

They both came with presents and cards. So, for my betting friends, what are the odds of the two of them independently finding and buying the exact same birthday card? Well, they did.

In case you’re wondering, the inside reads:

Wait, it’s your birthday? Even better.

There was cake, of course — German chocolate and coconut-lemon. Alex found a vintage magazine in a used bookstore: a mint-condition 1968 issue of Teenset — The “Yellow Submarine Special,” with a full color spread about the Beatles’ Yellow Submarine and all kinds of other cool late 60s rock stuff. Fun! SC gave me a corset, black with a pretty floral print. I wanted to try it on to check the fit; the café had single bathrooms (one for women, one for men), so we piled into the ladies’ room, locked the door and I tried it on — it’s much easier getting into a corset with help! It was a size too big — I don’t have the boobage to fill out the top, so it gapped open. SC said she’d exchange it for me, no problem. Of course, we had to get a picture! People knocked on the door, but hey, let ’em use the men’s room; there’s never a wait for that!

The lighting was poor and we’d been in deep shadow; I was able to lighten it somewhat in photo editing. It’s still a cute shot, no?

Love love love these women so much!

John was disgruntled that I got to have so much fun (and cake) on his birthday. But I will make it up to him this weekend. Yesterday I baked scratch brownies for him; damn near ruined them, when I got distracted by a text and forgot to take them out of the oven. I was in such a rush to get them out, I burned my forearm on the oven rack. (sigh) Such a klutz! But it’s minor. At least the brownies are OK.

Have a great weekend, y’all.

Birthday shenanigans

Don’t you just love the word “shenanigans”? Anyway, no, not my birthday, but Alex’s. She had a small birthday party on Friday night, which John and I attended. After reading and hearing about nothing but horror and anger on social media for the past few days, it was exactly what the doctor ordered to disconnect from it all, be with friends, laugh and be silly, and celebrate a fun occasion.

Alex looked insanely adorable with her hair braided and wound around her head, wearing a little white dress with strawberries all over it, saddle shoes and white socks. She got some very cool presents. John and I decided to get her one cute Alex-y thing and one grownup thing, so we gave her a bottle of pinot noir and a stuffed Pokémon Pikachu. I was bummed at first when I noticed she had Pikachus of different sizes all over her house, but she said she collects them, and she didn’t have one like mine — mine was eating an apple. 😀

There was food… and of course, there was alcohol. Now, anyone who knows me, knows I’m not much of a drinker. For one thing, I have zero tolerance for it and one glass of anything gets me tipsy. For another, I usually am more comfortable when I’m fully in control of my faculties. Finally, I do have the specter of familial alcoholism hanging over my head, so, with a couple of exceptions like New Year’s Eve and my birthday, I tend to abstain.

Not Friday. I said “screw it, I’m drinking,” and I did. Sometimes, even Erica the Uptight needs to let go a little.

It all started when Alex opened a bottle of Prosecco, which is essentially champagne, my favorite drink. She brought me a glass, along with bringing a glass to Maddy, who was already drinking a bottle of Mike’s Hard Something-or-Another (blackberry, I think?) We were laughing because she was “two-fisted drinking,” and then someone suggested pouring the blackberry stuff into the Prosecco. Classy, I know. But really, why not? People put orange juice in champagne, and they put Cassis in champagne, which is also blackberry-flavored. So Maddy splashed some blackberry into both our glasses, and I drank the whole glass. Normally I would stop there. (I made sure I’d had some snacks and put food in my stomach.)

But then there was punch. I had no idea what was in it, but when Alex asked if I wanted some, I said what the hell. She brought me a Solo cup filled with something pink and frothy and creamy, and I tasted it. So cold and sweet and tangy! It had ice cream in it, even; sherbet, I think. It also had a crap-ton of vodka.

I can’t say I drank the full cup, because John kept taking it away from me and drinking it himself. Mind you, he hates sweet drinks; he was just trying to keep ME from drinking it! So, when that cup was empty, I waited a little while… then went into the kitchen and helped myself to another half-filled cup of it. So altogether, I guess I had one full Solo cup of vodka-laced punch and one full wineglass of Prosecco combined with Mike’s Hard Blackberry. Really, not all that much, when you think about it, for the whole evening.

But I was still crocked. Pleasantly so. I giggled. I laughed. I felt hazy and mildly aware of my eyes glazing over, and went to get my glasses from my purse. People were getting a kick out of me, since this was kind of a different Erica. SpankCake: “I’ve never seen Erica drunk before!” To be honest, I don’t think I’ve been that tipsy since New Year’s Eve 2006, going into 2007, when I had my first shot of Jagermeister along with wine and champagne.

You know, I definitely wouldn’t want to do this all the time. But I can understand the appeal. For that couple of hours, I was like, Trump who? Dallas what? Whose lives matter? Huh? All of life’s shit, it all went away. Of course, I do know the secret… it comes back. And that’s why most people keep on drinking, I guess. I don’t want to live like that. But visiting that once in a while? Yeah. It’s fun. Not gonna beat myself up over it. 🙂

A side note: You know what else was really cool? After years and years of going to John’s sister’s stupid parties with all the drinking and pot and people stumbling and spilling things and hurting themselves and acting like idiots, it was a pleasure to be with a group who could enjoy some imbibing and still act like adults! The last time I was at one of those other parties, John’s sister was slurring unintelligibly (mind you, it was only 3:00 in the afternoon), and her husband’s brother put his hand through a glass patio door and had to go to the ER. I so do not miss that shit.

Oh, and of course, since it was a birthday party, there had to be spankings! Not as much as you might think; everyone there was kink aware and kink accepting, but there were a few who don’t participate in spanking, so things were a little more toned down than they would be at, say, a Shadow Lane party. But the birthday girl got her smacks. A couple of guests had brought folding chairs, and several of them were in the living room. When I went semi-stumbling into the kitchen, I was surprised to see a few of them in the middle of the kitchen floor. I blurted to Paul, “WHY are there chairs in the kitchen??” To which he sat in one, pulled me over his lap and answered, “This is why!” Everyone gathered to watch, while I fake-protested and hollered, “It’s not MY birthday!” He spanked several others as well.

Later, in the living room, a wooden bath brush had made an appearance; I forget who brought it in, but I’d like to thank them sincerely. (That was complete sarcasm, if you couldn’t figure it out.) John, who has a thoroughly disgusting fondness for brushes, insisted that we try it out. “No, John,” I kept saying. “No, John!” “C’mon, I’ll use it lightly!” he teased. Oh, please. John’s idea of “lightly” is a 10 on the intensity scale instead of an 11. He pulled me over and started right in with that nasty thing… and immediately marked my right cheek! WTF?? So of course, he had to try to get the left cheek to match. I fussed and hollered, and we made people laugh with our banter. “Her safe word is ‘MORE’!” he crowed. “No, my safe word is ‘FUCK YOU’!” I screeched. I believe we surprised a lot of people — no one has ever seen John play before. We never do at parties, haven’t for years. When we’re at spanking parties, I play, and John socializes. And we rarely play in private anymore either. That sort of went by the wayside, except for some brief flurries here and there, when his health went in a bad direction. So it was kind of fun to see him make a comeback. Although that @#$%ing bath brush needs to burn, as do all wooden implements.

I think we left around 12:45 a.m. (I was fully sober by then). I thought we’d get home and I’d crash into bed like the dead, but I was actually so keyed up from all the fun and excitement that I couldn’t sleep! It was nearly 4:00 a.m. when I finally drifted off. Saturday was quiet without any plans, so I was able to recover. I didn’t feel hungover, just tired from lack of sleep. Oh, and a little sore. 🙂 And marked. Sorry, don’t have a picture. Y’all just have to use your imaginations.

It was fun. I’m so grateful that we have such lovely friends. ♥ We’re a lot older than they are, but it doesn’t seem that way at all. I have no idea how or why it works, but I’m ever so happy that it does!

Back to reality. Hope everyone had a great weekend.

My day of kinky support

As of today, Tuesday, John is still in the hospital, but he may be released tonight. Since tonight and the next couple of days will be a whirlwind of getting him settled and running errands and taking him to three different doctor appointments, I won’t have any time for updating this. So today, while I have a bit of me time, I’m going to catch up with last Tuesday, which really was a great day. I honestly believe it helped prepare me for having my life thrown back into a blender the following day.

Last Tuesday, Steve showed up with open arms and open heart, ready to listen and support. I was feeling edgy and impatient, and even when the spanking I so desperately craved had started, I sniped at his phraseology. When he said “You need this” too often for my liking, I snapped, “Yes, you mentioned that a few dozen times.” That got me thigh slaps. OK, I deserved them. “Got anything else to say?” he asked. “No, no,” I hastily assured him, trying to clear the stars of pain floating around my eyes. “I didn’t think so,” he said. “If you need this, then it doesn’t matter how many times I say it, does it?” (Uh… well, it’s still redundant, but I didn’t say so at that moment!)

After a while, the impatience gave way to what I was really feeling — extreme frustration, coupled with guilt over being snappish and tense with John. Granted, in my defense, he’s a godawful patient and so OCD about everything being done just so in his house that it gives me fits. But still… I was at my wits’ end several times over the past weekend, and I couldn’t wait to go home. So when Steve said, “Take this like a good girl,” I blurted, “There is NOTHING good about me!” “Excuse me?” “I said, there is nothing good about me. I’m sick of all this, I’m sick of him, I just want to run away from all of this and have my life back. I’m a terrible, selfish person.”

“You are wrong,” he replied calmly, not stopping. “You have no idea what kind of person you are, how much you’ve done, how much you continue to do. He’s lucky to have you. You’re not a terrible person, you are exhausted and stressed out and that’s why I’m here.”

And of course, I cried.

He held me in his lap for a long time until I calmed down, pulling in the first deep breaths I may have taken in about a week. “Ready for the ottoman?” he asked. I knew I needed a little more, so I bravely assumed the position while he went to fetch a couple of implements. Only two this time: the Lexan paddle and the crop. Just enough to give me a couple of intense sensations and coax out that last bit of stress.

Afterward, I actually dozed off for a little bit in his arms. That is a rarity for me, so it speaks to how very tired I was. And how safe I felt.

Thank you, Steve. ♥

But wait, there’s more! I still had my dinner date with Alex and SpankCake later. Alex was running a little late (traffic), but SC and I got to the restaurant early, so we caught up for a half-hour until Alex joined us, and then we were off into another marathon of catching up, airing stress, laughing, talking kink, and just enjoying each other as we always do. We beat our record this time: six hours. We met at 5:30, intending to make it an “early evening,” and ended up leaving at 11:30.

And of course, there had to be dessert. We wanted a brownie sundae, but they were out of brownies. Booo! So we chose a regular ice-cream sundae instead, and made short work of it. Now you see it…

…Now you don’t. (Alex ate all the cherries, BTW)

Thank you, my sweet friends. ♥

I feel so out of the loop with everyone and everything, but I guess that’s to be expected. This week, the lion’s share of the spanking scene is convening in Atlantic City for the Boardwalk Badness Weekend (which ends up being more like five days or so), and usually I feel horribly sad not being there, but right now, I just can’t think about it. So I hope all my friends there will have a blast and hold a good thought for John and his recovery.

And hopefully I can get some readership back for this blog! Sorry to have been so silent lately.