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 “bondage”

Are you ready for this?

You may want to sit down. I don’t think y’all have ever seen me quite like this. And you probably won’t again, so you’d better memorize it. I may come to my senses tomorrow and take it down. 🙂

OK, so the naked thing is nothing new. The collar? That’s another story.

Allow me to backtrack to the beginning of this evening, if I may.

When ST first arrived, he asked me how I was doing. He already knew, having read my blog. And I’m sure he knew I needed to blow off some details. I can talk to him about this stuff. He is as discreet as the day is long. And he’s a switch himself, so he understands.

He sat quietly and let me vent a bit about my frustrations with the domme/slave thing. When he sensed I was finished, he did an assessment — perhaps it was subconscious on his part, or maybe it was deliberate. He knew I wanted and needed to be edgy tonight. I craved to be pushed, challenged, unnerved a bit. I needed to let go.

“I could use a beck-and-call girl, myself,” he mused, winding his hand into my hair and tightening his fist. “I think I should make you MY little spank slave.”

“Right,” I scoffed.

“I have a collar and leash right here in my bag,” he said, watching my face closely. “I think I should put it on you, what do you think?”

He was checking with me. I knew it. I blustered, “Oh my god! You’ve GOT to be @#$%ing kidding me!”

But I didn’t say no. And so the collar went around my neck.

Only with someone I trust this much, would I go there. I constantly amaze myself with the things I’m willing to do with him, things that are so out of my little play box. And tonight, that was just what I needed.

He made me crawl into my bedroom on my hands and knees, and once I was on the bed, I had to take off all my clothes. But not before I had one last moment of defiance.

After that, I was subdued rather quickly. Especially when the clothes came off and the ropes came out. Collared and tied, I was helpless.

“Now I can do anything I want, can’t I,” he taunted. “And you can’t do a thing about it.”

No, I couldn’t.

And oh, it hurt.

“You’re not going to scream, are you?” he growled in my ear. I shook my head vigorously. “Perhaps I should MAKE you scream.”

But somehow, I didn’t. I cried, I smashed my face into the bedspread. But I did not scream. I did say please, please… “Please what? Please show you some mercy?” “Yes, please,” I sobbed. “I’ll think about it,” he said.

After the tears began, he softened a bit. He untied the rope and took off the collar. But the spanking went on for quite a while after that.

He paused, hovering over me. “Are you getting what you need?”

“Yes.”

“Do you need some more?”

“Yes, please.”

He obliged.

“Go on, let it out,” he murmured as I wept. I did. It felt so, so damned intensely good. The knots in my stomach and chest dissolved. All the tension flowed out with my tears.

I don’t know how he always knows just what to do, where to take me. He asked me if I liked it. I answered as honestly as I could: “I liked it with you.” I don’t believe I’ll ever fetishize that degree of D/s. It’s not me. But freefalling a bit, knowing he’s there to catch me, is damned hot.

Reluctantly, he finally let me put some clothes back on.

But just for the record, we did do another scene. This time with canes. Dammit, canes really hurt when you’re already sore. I had some choice utterances.
“You’ve invoked both God and Jesus — want to try for the Holy Ghost?” he teased.
“I wish you were a ghost,” I snapped. “Then you could disappear.”
I never learn. Fortunately, he’s willing to come back, again and again, to try to teach me. 🙂
Thank you for being here for me.

The Bad Man

(Just an FYI — tonight’s session was a little edgy. Remember… I wanted it.)

New Guy wrote to me again this morning. The Bible thumper from yesterday was nowhere to be found.

He’d written to me several times this week — brief, threatening notes saying that my naked pictures would attract the wrong kind of men. Bad men. To all these, I scoffed. I believe at one point, I wrote back, “Maybe you’re a bad man. Ever think of that?” Probably not the best idea.

This morning’s note said I was to answer my door tonight dressed exactly as I had been for the red couch pictures. (In other words, not dressed.) And his last sentence read: You will find out precisely what type of man pictures like that attract.

Uh oh.

I had all day to think about it. What was he going to do? Did it matter? Not really. I just wanted to see him. Feel his hands again, feel the impact of his arsenal.

Would it hurt? Hell, yes.

He showed up right on time; good thing, because by then, I was so nervous, I could hardly stand on those damn high heels — the only thing I had on.

No niceties, no catching up. Not yet. New Guy wasn’t here yet; he’d be there later. Right now, I had to deal with The Bad Man who was going to show me what happens to naughty girls who post naked pictures on the Internet.

He told me to clear off my coffee table; I did so. He threw two pillows onto the table, then pushed me down on top of it, pulling my arms forward. Out of his bag came lengths of rope — first he tied my wrists together, then the other end to the table leg. Then he tied each of my legs to the table. Finally, he wound rope around my waist. All the while, he was taunting me, winding his fist in my hair and making me look up at him.

“You’re going to learn a good lesson tonight,” he said. I couldn’t hardly move. My hair went in my face, into my mouth, but I couldn’t do anything about it. The table felt cold under my bare arms.

It’s New Guy. It’s the man you trust. You’re OK. You’re OK. Take it. Be in it.

He’d purchased a brand-new belt during his travels… nice and stiff. A gift for me, he said. He’d thought about me when he bought it. Oh my god, that thing hurt. Hurt good, but still hurt. I moaned and jerked, but I couldn’t get away from it. The paddle, the big strap… l wanted so badly to put my hands over my mouth so I wouldn’t scream, but of course, I couldn’t do that.

“You’re not going to scream, are you?” he said, running his nails down my back.

“Please,” I begged, “please don’t make me scream!” My neighbors… but oh damn, I needed to scream.

He made me face him again; there was something in his hand. It looked like a towel. “I guess we can’t have that, can we?” And he stuffed the cloth deep into my mouth.

I’ve never been gagged before. I suppose I could have spit it out, but I didn’t dare. Now I could scream, but all that came out were muffled shrieks. The helplessness, the emotional surge, the pain all merged together and engulfed me. I started to cry.

“This is what the bad men do,” he growled. “They spank girls until they cry.”

I wept as he continued, feeling my entire body tremble within its bounds. It seemed to go on for a long time, but in reality, it probably wasn’t as long as most of our scenes. But it was off the scale as far as intensity was concerned.

And then, finally… “Are you ready to be untied now?” I nodded vigorously. He released me then, and I collapsed into the table, crying hard. It wasn’t bad crying, though. It felt like it was cleaning all the emotional crud out of my system.

The Bad Man disappeared. In his place was the sweet top I know, soothing me with lotion, bringing me tissues, checking in with me. Quoting Pixie Wells, I gasped out, “Tears are hot, snot is not,” and blew my nose. Yes, I’m too sexy.

After I’d returned to reality, drunk some water, etc., he booted up his laptop and showed me all the cool pictures he’d taken during his trip. Oh, and he brought me a necklace from Wisconsin, made from bright yellow plastic cheese wedges. 😀

Later, I told him all about my adventures at Spanking Court and what a little monster I’d been. Guess what? He decided I needed more spanking. This time, it was OTK on the couch. Awesome…

Finally, he had to take off. But that’s OK. I’ll get to see him again in just a week. No more long waits. No more hunger.

So, am I sore? Yes, my toe definitely smarts.

Huh?

As he was leaving, he brushed up against my Barnabas cane, and it fell over. The silver handle landed on my big toe. I jumped and yelped, but then forgot about it. Until a few minutes later when I glanced down at my foot.

Freaking cane cut my toe!! OK, I figured I’d be in some hurt tonight, but not my toe, for God’s sake.

OK, OK, my butt’s sore too. (dreamy smile)

Welcome back, NG. Even when you’re bad, you’re fan-f*&#ing-tastic. 🙂

The Stranger

When my doorbell rang at 6:30, I opened it eagerly, expecting to see New Guy standing there smiling back, ready to give me a warm hug after three weeks of not seeing each other.

But the man at my door didn’t smile, only stepped in silently, Feeling a bit thrown, I started to wrap my arms around his neck, and he shrugged them off. Then I felt his fist tightening in my hair.

He spun me around, pushing me toward my bedroom. I nearly stumbled on my high heels. Wordlessly, he threw me onto my bed, then flipped me over, pinning both arms behind my back. He rummaged in his bag and next thing I knew, he was tying my hands together. Once that was done, he leaned down and spoke. “Did you really think you could write something like that in your blog and no one would get ideas?”

“Ah… um… I….” I stuttered, and he yanked my hair. “Did you?”

“No…” I murmured. I thought perhaps I could reason with him. “I couldn’t help it,” I cried. “Those pictures… I don’t know, they just did something to me.”

“Yeah, well,” he said, “now I’M going to do something to you.” My legs were bent, my feet tightly curled up under my bottom; he pulled my legs straight, and unceremoniously yanked my leggings and panties down my thighs and off. Then he tied my ankles together.

“Now,” he growled, “you are going to get exactly what you deserve.”

The spanking was hard and fast and ferocious — no warmup here. I squirmed around, but I could barely move, and the ropes bit into my wrists if I pulled too hard.

“Are you scared?”

“Ye-e-e-s….”

“You should be. Maybe you’ll be more careful about what you put on your blog, won’t you? Be careful what you wish for.” Then he jerked the rope off my wrists. But before I could sigh in relief, he pulled my hands forward, wrapped the rope securely around my wrists once again and tied the ends to the bedframe just above the caster. He then did the same thing with my ankles, tying them down at the other end.

And then the implements came out of the bag. He brushed them against me, teasing me, tormenting me. I was on sensory overload… yes, it was scary. It was also wildly, almost unbearably arousing.

“Please,” I whimpered, “please…”

“Please what?” he asked. When I didn’t answer, he snapped the strap down hard once, twice, three times quickly. “Please what? he repeated.

“Please…. don’t hurt me,” I whispered. My usual bravado and brattiness had completely disappeared. He was someone I didn’t know, and yet I did. And I was someone I didn’t know, as well.

He leaned down to me once again, his mouth to my ear. “But I want to hurt you,” he hissed. I moaned and steeled myself.

Strap, belt, paddle, another strap… it went on and on. He said little, and I buried my face in the comforter, trying to stifle my yelps. I started crying early on, not necessarily from the pain, but from the surges of emotion. But I couldn’t wipe my nose or push my hair out of my face. I was helpless, at his mercy.

After a while, he paused and spoke again. “I like hurting you,” he drawled, his voice silky. “And you like it too. Don’t you!”

God help me, I did. I loved it. I nodded vigorously, even as I cried. And then he finished me off with ten rapid, heavy paddle strokes. I had to count them.

It was over. He untied me, then sat on the bed next to me, gathering me close. Suddenly, he was New Guy again… sweet, gentle and soothing. He smiled into my face, the menacing look gone. I wept and trembled and clung to him. And through it all, I kept mumbling, “Oh God. Oh my God. Wow… Wow… That was… oh my god, that was sooooo @#$%ing hot…” He laughed. Said he was glad I’d liked it, because he sure did too.

I have been tied up before. But I’d never experienced it like this, as part of a roleplay scene, sprung on me so unexpectedly. It was different. It was rougher than I usually play. But I could do it with him. I could go there. I trusted him. I knew I was safe, so I could fully immerse myself in the fantasy.

And don’t anyone worry about me. Don’t anyone think any of this was too harsh, because I wanted it. Does this look like an abused woman to you?

Didn’t think so. 🙂  I even recovered enough to sass him. Paid for it, of course.

Thank you, my friend, my evil stranger.

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