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 “book”

Ah, memories…

Most of you guys know I edit kinky erotica. Today I was working on a book and one scene had the woman stripped naked and about to go over the man’s knee. He was still fully dressed in a good suit, and she expressed concern that she was going to make a mess of his pants. He smirked and said, “That’s what dry-cleaning is for.” He then went on to taunt her that he’d probably tell his dry-cleaner all about it and how it got there.

Art imitates life, or is it the other way around? Whatever. Reading this, I was reminded of the time a couple of years ago when I was playing with D. We only had three scenes, but holy damn, I was fiercely, unusually attracted to this man. And when we played, well, you know… bodies do what bodies do. I secrete when I’m beat. And D always came over from work, so he was in a suit.

Cut to a couple of days later — D emailed me and teasingly informed me that he’d had to take his suit pants to the cleaners because of a prominent stain. (“Did I do that?”) I got the giggles over that, but what made me guffaw was when he went on to tell me that the cleaner had asked what it was! D, not expecting the question and feeling flustered, muttered something along the lines of, “Uh… I dunno… something fell in my lap.”

He said the cleaner gave him a funny look.

Still laughing.

Have a great weekend, y’all. ♥

Oh, those swoon-worthy phrases…

You all know what I mean. Those spanking-related phrases that push our buttons; we’ve talked about them a lot, so that’s not what this post is about. It’s about a particular instance of one that shot my nerve endings into overdrive.

As a proofreader/copyeditor, I don’t choose what I work on. I read what’s given to me and I make it as perfect as I can. In my thirty-five years of doing this, I’ve read quite the spectrum of subject matter. And lucky me, I seem to have found my niche lately: spanking/fetish erotica. I work on a whole lot of that. Therefore, I see a broad range of kink and types of play. Some of it resonates. Some of it doesn’t. We’re all so different.

But every now and then, I read something that slams into my kinky reflexes so hard, I squirm in my desk chair. I don’t want to seem like I’m playing favorites, so I am not going to reveal the author or the book, just quote a snippet.

The hero has just ordered the heroine to lie on the bed for a punishment:

Her: I don’t want to.
Him: I didn’t ask if you want to. I told you to do it. NOW.

I can’t explain why any more than I can explain any of this kink stuff, but that little bit right there got me so hot and bothered, I had to take a work break, if you get my drift. (I know, I know, TMI. But hey, just one more of the joys of working at home.) 😀

Now, from the sublime to the ridiculous, a few search phrases I found for my blog.

how spanking models work

Hard, honey. Really hard.

my parents left and this guy from school spanked me

Well, good for you. And I’m supposed to do exactly what with this information?

spanking sarah bright pics

I am not Sarah Bright. I look nothing like Sarah Bright. Sarah Bright is a top. Why does Google delude this poor hapless searcher by directing them to my blog?

speeding in my house earns you a spanking

You must have one hell of a huge house to be able to drive a car in it.

braces pigtails bows pajamas spanking

OK… aside from the obvious last word, how the @#$% does any of this lead to me?? I haven’t worn pigtails since I was twelve and I got my braces off when I was thirteen. I’ve never worn bows; not that I can recall, anyway. Pajamas? Yes, I wear those. I don’t think I’ve ever been spanked in them, though. So what was this person doing, just throwing out a bunch of Little terms to see what came up? Sure must have been disappointed when he/she saw me!

Anyway. Back to work for me, and then off to John’s. I think we’re going to have a more peaceful weekend than the last one was. Last Friday, John’s refrigerator, garage door opener, and one of his crowns all broke. We spent the weekend buying ice and putting buckets of it in the fridge to keep the food cold. He managed to fix the garage door himself. And he was able to get emergency appointments for both the tooth and the fridge on Monday, taking half a day off. Whew. So if this weekend is uneventful, neither one of us will complain.

Have a great weekend, y’all. And to my American friends, please have a safe and happy July 4th. EDIT: Also to my up North pals, happy Canada Day!

“Sex With Shakespeare”

Yes, this post will be about Jillian Keenan’s book, Sex With Shakespeare: Here’s Much to Do with Pain, but More with Love. I don’t know if I want to call it a review; it’s more of a ramble, random bits of the thoughts her book evoked. Because Jillian’s book did make me think, a lot. And isn’t that the hallmark of a good book?

It is good. It’s smart, literate, interesting, and bold. It’s honest. And it accomplishes one hell of a feat: it links spanking and fetish activity with Shakespearean plays and characters, bringing both into a magical reality in which Jillian interacts with several of them. There are one hell of a lot of books about spanking, and a lot more about Shakespeare. But I daresay this is the first that combines the two, and entertainingly so.

I do have a confession to make. You know that Sam Cooke song, “Wonderful World”? “Don’t know much about history, don’t know much geography…” Well… I don’t know much about Shakespeare, beyond the bare basics. Sure, I know the story of Romeo and Juliet (but really, who doesn’t?). I know that the quote “Alas, poor Yorick” is from Hamlet (and I also know that the oft-added “I knew him well” is a misquote). I know that King Lear’s daughters were named Cordelia, Regan and Goneril (although every time I see that latter name, I think of gonorrhea. What the hell kind of name is Goneril, anyway?). But other than that… I have never read a Shakespearean play. (hanging head in shame) So, while I do wish I could have related more to the Shakespeare part of Jillian’s book (and that’s my shortcoming, not a criticism of SWS), I nonetheless found that aspect intriguing. And I found myself admiring and relating to Jillian more and more as I read.

At a glance, you put us together and we are very different beings. I am twice her age. She has worked and lived all over the world; I’ve lived in one state all my life, and my travel is limited to seven states and Mexico. She embraces change; I crave stasis. And yet, I felt those tendrils of kinship with her. Because I know that in one major area, she gets me, and I get her. We both have that gene, that wiring, that thing, whatever the fuck it is, that draws us inexorably to spanking.

(Side note: Funny how even within that commonality, we differ. She can’t stand the word “spanko,” while I think it’s a perfect term and use it often. But out of respect for her, I will refrain from using it for the remainder of this post. 🙂 )

When I read of Jillian’s childhood and adolescence, and all the feelings and desires around spanking that caused her shame and a sense of otherness, I realized I’d been wrong about one of my long-time assumptions. I know everyone is different, of course — but in general, I thought those in the Millennial generation had an easier time of exploring and reconciling with their kinks, because they always had the Internet — and its wealth of information and connections — at their fingertips. How could anyone feel alone when they had that? But I was mistaken. Apparently, Jillian went through as much angst and self-loathing as I did. Fortunately for all of us, she did manage to embrace her spanking fetish much earlier than I did.

When she spoke of her first spanking, I remembered mine. When she talked of how it’s so much more than just a hand striking a bottom — it’s about headspace, it’s about scolding or certain verbiage that accompanies it, etc. — I nodded, and frequently said “Yes” out loud. At her insistence that this is not something that we choose, but it chooses us, I did a fist-pump.

I have referred to Jillian Keenan as brave before, and I continue to do so. Yes, a lot of us write and blog and talk about our kinks and how they impact our lives. But Jillian does so, openly and honestly, while revealing her full, real name to the masses… including the haters out there. While others battle to keep from being outed, she outed herself, and risked everything. That, to me, is fucking brave. That is conviction. I certainly couldn’t do it, as proud as I am of my place in the kink world.

For years, I have tried to explain why I think spanking and BDSM are different. Yes, the former is a subculture of the latter. But they have a fully different look, feel, language, clothing, etiquette, and so on. I said that I was OK with visiting a dungeon, but going to a spanking party felt like coming home. For this, I have been accused of being elitist, exclusive, of perpetrating the “us vs. them myth.” On FetLife, when I stated that I considered myself more of a “spanking purist,” one dreadful woman went so far as to say that anyone who uses the term “purist” is probably also an advocate of “ethnic cleansing.” Right — so preferring spanking over whips and chains makes me akin to Hitler?? Fuck her! But then Jillian came along with her book, and on page 141 (hardcover version), she explained the difference in two sentences. Perfectly.

I spent enough time at a dungeon in San Francisco to realize that although BDSM is a broad term that includes spanking obsessives, like me, we also belong to different subcultures, with different aesthetic styles and mind-sets. I fit in at that dungeon only as well as a gay man might at a lesbian bar: we could relate, but it wasn’t my place.

How. Freaking. Brilliant. Is. This? She nailed it. If people still don’t get it after reading this encapsulation, then they never will.

It was just one of many “aha” moments I had, reading this book. When she claimed that spanking yourself is like trying to tickle yourself, it just doesn’t work, I laughed in commiseration. At her confession that she had a fondness for Star Wars-themed spanking fanfiction, I thought, well, is that any different than my writing Dark Shadows-themed spanking fanfic, with Quentin Collins spanking me? Oh, and how many times have I lamented that I can’t stand having my nipples touched, that it seems all the sexual wiring that was intended for my breasts went to my butt instead? So you can imagine how I crowed when Jillian referred to her own backside as a giant clitoris hitched to the back of her pelvis.

Even when the topic made me uncomfortable, I appreciate how it made me think. Jillian posits that children, even at a very young age, have emerging sexual identities. I agree with this, especially when it comes to the vague notions of kink. How else can we explain our fascinations with spanking as children? How so many of us played spanking games, looked up “spanking” and all its synonyms in the dictionary? Jillian goes on to opine that if a child has an emerging spanking fetish, and early sexual feelings around it, then spanking said child is sexual assault.

She’s taken a lot of heat for this statement — again, the bravery thing. Granted, I have always been uncomfortable with the idea of spanking kids. But I figured it was simply because it’s a crappy thing to do to a helpless little person and it sends the wrong message (“I’m bigger than you, so I get to hit you, but you can’t do that to anyone else.” “I have control over you, and I can hurt you if I choose to.”) Granted, that last quote is fine if it’s between consenting adults — but children cannot consent. Still… sexual assault? Then I thought back to my own childhood.

My mother hit me a lot. She was impulsive and temperamental and would usually slap whatever she could reach at the time — my face, my arms, my legs. My primary reaction to that was helpless rage; I so wanted to slap her back. However, my memory of a single OTK spanking from my father is altogether different. It was so long ago, but I’ll never forget how I felt. Humiliated. Betrayed. Ashamed. I ran outside, wept into my dog’s fur, and wished I could simply disappear into thin air. I never wanted to face anyone again. Why such an extreme reaction? And even now, thinking about it makes my flesh crawl. Could it be because my little self was already feelings those tendrils of fetishism, and the confusion was unbearable?

You may agree with Jillian. You may not. But I believe she knows what she’s talking about, and her views are worthy of respect. Only one of us can truly say how wretched childhood spanking can be, I think. Because for us, it’s so much more than the temporary pain.

I really am rambling here, so I will stop now. In short: If you happen to be both a Shakespeare aficionado and a spanking fetishist, Jillian’s book will be an extra special treat for you. But you don’t need to be both in order to get plenty out of it. Because there is much to be learned on both subjects. And if you are just becoming aware of your own inner spanking enthusiast and are looking for someone to learn from and relate to, here she is.

Thank you, Jillian. ♥

I called it “constructive input”…

However, Steve the sadistic fuck big meanie called it “getting mouthy.” Which, apparently, called for thigh abuse attention.


I took this about two hours after he left. You’ll notice that the butt color is completely gone, whereas the thigh color remains. Humph.

In other news, my order came from Amazon:


Yes, Jillian’s first book is out! (That’s Jillian Keenan, of course. Apologies for my wayward finger blocking part of her name.) Jillian is a brilliant and bold voice for us and I highly encourage supporting any and all of her writing efforts. You can read more about it (and order it!) here. I confess, my Shakespearean literacy leaves much to be desired. But I suspect I’ll know much more by the time I’m done reading.

And finally, in today’s potpourri, here are a couple more inane search phrases I discovered:

“erica scott” and mature

Yeah. I’ve got your mature right here.


And then there was this one:

does erica scott do enema movies

No, she @#$%ing well does not.

Really? Isn’t there enough shit online already?

Happy Hump Day.

“My First Spanking” anthology now available


Writer, editor and kinkster Cassandra Park has compiled a collection of stories by eleven authors, entitled “My First Spanking,” with eleven unique takes on the subject. I’m very proud to have been one of the contributors.

This anthology is now for sale in both print here and Kindle version here. Please check it out! It’s a lot of fun and you get to sample many different writing styles.

If you’d like to read an excerpt of my story “Just Ask Me,” Cassandra has posted one here. 🙂

And, as always, if you read the book and like it, be sure to give Cassandra a nice review on Amazon, and pass the word on. I’m excited; Cassandra will be at Shadow Lane with print copies, having a book signing.

Ye gods, Shadow Lane is in two weeks… let the panic begin! I’ve been so busy working and stressing about other trivial crap like money and health issues, I haven’t had time to fret about what I’m going to wear and how many pairs of panties to bring and who will/won’t be there and so on and so forth. As much as I hate change, this is one thing I do wish would change: the way I stress out, year after year, before this party! (sigh) Oh well. All will get done, as ever.

Have a great weekend, y’all.

New E-book: The Spanking Hand Book

A few months ago, several of us writers/bloggers were approached by a publishing company called Instructing Eve, based in Australia. They were requesting contributions to an e-book about spanking and listed several topics we could cover. I believe they ended up with 16 of us, and the result of our collaboration is now available for purchase!

If I try to list some of the other contributors, I will certainly omit someone and that would be inappropriate. So I’ll just say I’m in good company, and the book is packed with fun stuff — short stories, tips and tricks, and very cute illustrations. My contribution? A list of tongue-in-cheek tips entitled “What NOT to Say to Your Spanker.” Rather than go for the smart-ass remarks and comebacks we all know and love, I endeavored to come up with some originals, all of which I’ve used myself, of course. 🙂

The Instructing Eve folks sent all kinds of goodies, including pictures and banners. I posted one of the banners on the right-hand side, directly underneath my two books. If you click on it, it takes you directly to the ordering page.

Or, you can just click here. Just $5.95, y’all. Cheap!

In other news: John and I were finally able to pull off our Valentine’s Day weekend. His knee is still swelling every time he’s on his feet for any length of time, but he’s been icing it and taking anti-inflammatories, so I guess we just have to wait it out. Regardless, he said he was fine with going out for our special dinner.

I surprised him by getting completely dressed up — form-fitting LBD, stockings and heels, and even a cute new pair of boy-short panties with a pattern of red and pink hearts on a black background. He stood in the doorway of the bathroom as I put on makeup, gawking at me. “Um, sweetie? Let me make sure I’m clear on this,” he quipped. “Does this mean I have to wear long pants?”

“Correct,” I smiled. The man lives in shorts on the weekends, no matter how cold it is. And Teva sandals. “Does that mean shoes and socks, too?” “Correct,” I repeated. As if he didn’t know. And may I say that when he was dressed, he looked damned handsome. 🙂

I’d given him a card, a heart-shaped balloon and a case of these, his absolute favorite chocolate bar (hard to find, so he’s always excited when he gets some). John had already sent me roses and hidden a one-pound box of See’s in my car, so I figured that was plenty, along with our lovely dinner. However, he had other plans.

We ordered, and he left to go use the restroom. After he returned, we chatted until our server brought our plates. I looked very happily at my fettuccini with grilled vegetables and tomato-herb sauce and picked up my fork, then jumped as the server appeared again at my elbow. “And something special for the lady,” he said, placing a wrapped package by my plate. John burst out laughing when he saw my shocked reaction. Turns out he hadn’t gone to the restroom after all; he just snuck over to the server and asked him to help with the surprise.

I love that man.

I was a big grown-up girl, though. I didn’t open my present until we were both finished with our meals. Another beautiful vintage watch to add to my collection, and one I recognized. When we’d gone to have his watch serviced a few months ago, I’d admired it in the jewelry case.

Did I mention that I love that man?

Dinner was perfection, and then we drove to a nearby coffee house, also a favorite. I’ve mentioned it before — the one with the fabulous cakes, including our obsession, German chocolate cake. Luck was with us that night and they had some left, so we shared a gigantic slab of it.

John and I couldn’t take our eyes off each other. I felt like I did when we first started dating. To watch us last night, you’d never know we’ve been together 15 1/2 years.

But of course, we’re not kids anymore. When we got home, John put his foot up on an ottoman piled high with pillows, wrapped an ice-pack and Ace bandage around his knee, and promptly fell asleep. I snuggled against him, watched Saturday Night Live and ate three pieces of See’s chocolate.

Wouldn’t have it any other way.

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