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 “CHoS”

Correspondence Hall of Shame, 7/24

kiddingcat

You know, I usually wait until I’ve collected a few of these monstrosities before I write a new CHoS. But I just got a message that has me so flabbergasted, so squicked, I think I have to give it its own column.

Okay, so I’ve been around spanking and BDSM for a little over twenty-four years now. I think I’ve seen or heard it all… until I realize I haven’t.

Hi Erica, you have a very lovely body. I love spanking. But I also enjoy other forms of inflicting pain including paintball, staple gun, etc. Would love you to consider expanding beyond just spanking.

(blinking rapidly)

Wait… what? Did I read that correctly?

(looking again)

You want to do what to me?

You want to shoot paintballs and staples at me?

Are you out of your fucking MIND???

You want to shoot sharp little objects into my body at a high velocity. Objects that will not only break my skin, but embed themselves in it and most likely have to be surgically removed? And I’m supposed to “broaden my horizons” to somehow find that acceptable? Really?

On what planet?

This is a suggestion for the hardest of hard-core masochists, not a spanko. How on earth did he make that leap?

As for paintball, long before John, I dated a gamer. He and his buddies played paintball about once a month, and he had the full protective gear. I’d see him after these games, see all of him. The bruises were astounding. Huge, dark purple things, sometimes as big as grapefruits. And this was with protective gear on. I don’t even want to ponder upon what would happen to uncovered flesh.

I know, I know, I really shouldn’t be this shocked. I mean, there is no limit to the kinky fuckery out there. But I really can’t wrap my head around someone thinking that I might say, “Hey, I love spanking, so yeah, it follows that I’d love to be shot with staples, have at it!”

And what the holy hell is the “etc.”? Paint a bulls-eye on my ass and shoot arrows at it? Tie me down and then aim a really annoyed porcupine at me?

(deep breaths)

I didn’t answer this gentleman. But I’d like to suggest that he give himself a sriracha sauce enema and then go sit on a toilet seat made of Legos.

Enough of that. In other news, my mood has not been great. (Can you tell??) Too much bad news and not enough good. Too many people scared and upset and hurting. Every day it seems I experience some sort of mood swing, going from tears to anger to free-floating panic. Then I calm down and regain perspective. Until the next day, when I do it again. Such is life in the U.S.A. right now.

I am grateful I see John once a week. He is the only human contact I have. He is the only person I’ve hugged in about five months. I haven’t even petted a dog in all this time. I miss that too.

And of course, I miss playing.

In the midst of this, I heard from Mr. Woodland today; he texted me. You might remember him as a local friend I played with at parties and had over to my place a couple of times. He asked if I was playing these days — said he’s trying to stay safe, but he’s going a little stir crazy. Wanted to know my take on what would be safe, play-wise, and if I’d like to play with him again if I feel safe in doing so.

Would I ever! But… yeah. Can’t ignore the gigantic viral elephant in the room.

I said we should keep in touch, and discuss precautions. I didn’t say yes and I didn’t say no. It would depend a lot on what he’s been doing, where he’s been, etc. I got the impression he’s been isolating at much as I have — hence the cabin fever.

I will talk about this with John tomorrow. It would be sooooo wonderful to play, and with someone I trust and who knows how. Oh my God, he’s so good with a belt…

How far do we go in trying to stay alive? Do we completely stop living? This goddamn thing is going to be with us for a long time, it seems. I have no idea how to come to terms with it and how to navigate what was once no-brainer situations. (sigh) I know that parties are completely out right now, no questions. But how risky is one-on-one play if you know one another?

Not decisions for now. It’s another weekend. Take care and stay safe, friends. ♥

Correspondence Hall of Shame, 6/5

That’s right, kids. Through pandemics, through riots and protests, through this entire freaking 2020 apocalypse, what never goes away?

perverts

You know it! Here’s a fresh crop of weirdos for your blog-reading pleasure.

Yummy!! You have an absolutely exquisite ass and I LOVE to spank a delicious ass and make sure NEVER to skip the inner cheeks!

Uh… guess what, pal. You’re never getting anywhere near the outer cheeks, let alone the inner ones. Blech.

I think this next one was on drugs. Or maybe he’s just an asshole.

I continue to video taped the abuse that your enjoying. In front of you is your newest mistress. Clad in her thigh high boots.
She orders you to lick and kiss her boots as a small snake is placed over your shoulders. As you get to the top of her boots. You catch the aroma of her pussy juices as you beg to eat her raw ****. She tells you ” NO” your not worthy of her honey as she forces you to suck on the the tip of the strapped on dildo. she then kisses you as I fuck you from behind. You are now allowed to cum.. as you finally get your wish of chewing on her clit, and fingering her ass.. When done, you are ordered to clean up the sexual mess that was made in nakedness of our presence.. as me and your new Mistress fuck each other, as we laugh at your whoreness…SUCH A SUBMISSIVE SLUTTY WHORE!!!

Yes, I edited out that four-letter word I hate so much. I don’t want it on my blog. As for the rest… are you fucking kidding me???? Mistress? Strap-on? Submissive? Snake?? In what universe? Know your audience, pervies. This one made me crave a hot shower immediately. I repeat, blech.

Aaaaand then there’s this guy:

Hello, we far enouigh apart it would never happen but my spanking method is to lube up ass hole and pussy . Stick thumb up ass hole and two or three fingers in pussy and bend you over my knees and spank your ass cheeks one at the time till they are cherry red while rubbing fingers together on the inside of you.
Just my way. Let me know what you think.

Well, since you asked — I think that’s one of the most disgusting spanking scenarios I’ve ever read. And trust me, honey — you could live next door and it would still never happen. You like double penetration so much? Put a gag in your mouth and stick a dried corncob up your ass. Unlubed.

I don’t usually do this with the CHoS, but I feel like it this time — I got a very nice correspondence this week, and completely unexpected.

Beautiful smile! You are a very attractive and sexy woman.

Well, damn. Thank you. I needed to hear that. ‘Cause you know what? After months of isolation, I’m not feeling attractive or sexy. My hair is overgrown, frizzy, and streaked with gray. I can’t remember the last time I wore makeup or put on something pretty. I’ve been living in sloppy, over-sized clothes. And the longer this goes on, the longer it feels like the New Normal. Covid-19 is showing no signs of leveling off; it’s still on the rise. And now, with all the protests and people crowded together, you know damn well there’s going to be a huge spike in cases. I’m thinking we can pretty much kiss the rest of 2020 goodbye, and it’s only June. People are angry and hurting and scared and it’s hard to imagine that we’ll ever be able to joyously and freely congregate again.

So, my spirits are flagging a little. I take my bits and pieces of humor and kindness wherever I can, and pass them on whenever I can. Because it’s all I can do. And keep moving forward.

Be safe, y’all. And do yourself a favor… turn off the news and social media for a while now and then. Because marinating in this suckage every waking hour is bad for our health. Watch your favorite old movies. Read a book. FaceTime your friends. Whatever floats your boat, so that you can forget all this crap for a while. ♥

Correspondence Hall of Shame, 5/8

eyeroll_woman_disgust_computer_annoyed-1

That’s right, kids. We’re still in the middle of a pandemic, things are still locked down, the whole damn country has been turned on its ear. But what never changes? The pervs just keep on perving. The jackasses keep on engaging in jackassery.

I’ve missed blogging, but when life is just a series of SSDD (Same Shit, Different Day), there’s not much to write. One more bit of regrettable news: TASSP, the June party in Dallas, has been canceled. At this point, I’m wondering if Shadow Lodge (formerly Shadow Lane) will happen over Labor Day. The more I think about it, the more I am so grateful that John and I made it to 50 Freaks, quite literally under the wire. I mean, the damn COVID-19 thing exploded a week or so after we came home. I am grateful to have those memories, because the rest of this year has sucked so far.

Anyway… here’s the first jackass, on Twitter:

Go take your meds.
I bet your the life of the party.

Well now…

  1. Why yes, as a matter of fact, when I choose to be, I am the life of the party.
  2. It’s you’re, stupid.
  3. Go inject yourself with disinfectant.

This is from the kink ads site:

You have a glorious delectable body, i would literally do anything to taste you
I’ll travel to you. Nothing I love better than licking sucking probing tasting pussy making your sweet yummy pussy juice filling my mouth. running down the crack of your ass my tongue lapping madly at your asshole getting every sweet yummy drop, my tongue will lick suck probe everywhere after I give you orgasm after orgasm after orgasm making you scream cream and begging for mercy. Then i will fill your sweet little rosebud with hard hot throbbing cock, let me know if you want to get better acquainted. I will make you submit to me. After car3 GUARANTEED. If you like rope, confinement or even suspension, I’m very practiced. Gently yet stern. If not this MASTER/dominant, look at fetlife.com, it’s totally and completely free. No scammers. Let me know if I have been of any assistance
If not me I am sure you can find what you desire LOCALLY. MASTER/Dominant Xxx

(clutching my head) Good grief…

WTF is After car3? Oh, of course… aftercare. (I put it through my Moron to English dictionary.) I don’t even know where to begin with this atrocity. I know I’ve asked this countless times, but really, who actually thinks that writing this kind of crap is going to make a woman drop her panties and come running? On what planet? Bleccchhhh.

I felt so unclean after reading this, I updated my status on Alt. Something along the lines of “Guys, just because we’re on a kink site doesn’t mean I want you to write filth to me.”

Aaaand then I heard from this charmer:

Ohhhh cum on now !!!! What kind of bullshit is that ??? You know your pussy gets dripping wet when a mature experienced dominant sadistic man like me speak total filth to you xxxx I love horny cock hungry perverted meat !!!!! So I hope I didn’t make you cry but your fingers are in the elastic band of your panties just waiting to touch your swollen erect clitoris !!!!! Haha haha my deepest apologies to you my slutty fuck but daddy will pleasure myself to your pink panties !!!!! MasterXxxx

Um. No, it doesn’t. No, you didn’t, you just made me sick. No, they aren’t. But if you like you can do something for me. Go find one of those throngs of idiots gathering and protesting the pandemic lockdown because they can’t get their hair cut or their nails done. You know, the people not wearing masks or observing social distancing. Put yourself right in the middle of the crowd, and breathe deep. 😛

For this last one, I’m cheating a little, because it wasn’t written directly to me. It’s a tweet from some jerkoff who claims he’s a radio host (I think his idol must have been Don Imus), a misogynist pig who has so many issues with women, you wonder just what the hell his mommy did to his little soldier. He likes to rail about how BIRTH CONTROL IS NOT A RIGHT (the caps are his) and shouldn’t be readily accessible.

You want free birth control? Duct tape your legs together until you figure what the hell is going on down there and change your behavior. See how easy that was?

Wow.

I don’t know, kids. I ran this through a translator as well, and got, “I don’t get laid enough.”

No. I didn’t engage with this waste of space. But I’d love to give him some free birth control. With a dull butter knife. Slowly. Painfullllllly.

Truth be told, I may talk smack, but I’m really not a violent person. I’ve never been in any kind of physical altercation. I would never slap a man in the face (exception: the one time it was scripted). I don’t like the idea of hurting people, even if they like it — hence my never getting into switching. But something about this kind of sexist arrogance taps into my inner Lorena Bobbitt. (Yes, I know that reference is dated. I don’t care. It’s still perfect.) I mean, these are the same guys who say women get raped because they asked for it somehow.

Y’all know what a succubus is? It’s a demon in a female form, seductive and irresistible. In my perfect imagined world of justice, these guys end up in their own special version of hell, locked in rooms with insatiable succubi, and they are compelled to copulate with them for all eternity. What’s so hellish about that, you ask? Well… these particular succubi have genitalia that are lined with rows of razor. Sharp. Teeth. And eternity is a looooooong time, boys. 😀

In short? I am totally fine with you if you have a dick. Just don’t be one, k?

And on that note, while all my male readers cringe… please be safe, please be well, everyone. Hope your weekends are peaceful and virus-free.

Correspondence Hall of Shame, a Very Special Edition

Yup, I’m still here, kids. How is everyone? How are we all holding up in this insanity? I don’t know about you, but it’s the little things that are helping to keep me sane. Things that make me laugh. Or that give me a tiny sense of empowerment in a sea of powerlessness. Hence this post.

Some things never change. Even in the midst of a pandemic, I still hear from the pervs. I’m still getting inappropriate messages. Someone asked why I haven’t done a CHoS lately, especially since I had so much material. My answer was that I really hadn’t been up for it. But then something happened this week that was different.

You guys know that in all the years I’ve been doing this, I would write (on here) what I would like to reply to the perpetrators. It was just fantasy. I never actually replied to any of them… until now. For the first time this week, I wrote back to one of them. I let them @#$%ing have it. And it felt gooooood, dammit.

On FetLife, there are “relationships” you can have with others, including sisters and brothers. I have several sisters on Fet. One of them is Alex (different Alex, not Alex Reynolds, although she’s my sister on there too). This is a very sweet young woman whom I’ve never met in person, but I’ve been in correspondence with for a couple of years and have grown to feel very protective over. Anyway, the other night, she messaged me, warning me about some creep on FetLife who was following a bunch of women and who had written very rude things to her. She then showed me a screen shot of their conversation and I saw red.

He’d written this arrogant little note to her, saying he wanted to be her dom, how much fun she could have with his “Big Dick Energy” (yes, really), and so forth. I would have not answered at all, but she politely wrote back, “No thank you.” It should have ended there. Instead, he wrote back, launching into Uber-Dom speak, saying, “That’s ‘no thank you, SIR,'” and a bunch of other drivel about her bad manners. He ended it by calling her a really nasty name.

UGH.

She blocked him, and that would have been the end of it. But nooooo. The creep saw that I’m her sister, so he then proceeded to write to me!

fetlifedick

I blocked out his FetLife name, but as you can see, the little twit is all of 24 years old. And he wrote the same “Big Dick Energy” BS to me — guess that’s his signature line? 😛 But the reference to Alex and the threesome was the last straw. I wasn’t going to let this stand. I’d reached my saturation point with these creeps.

So… I sent this back to him.

fetlifedick2

I knew I’d probably opened up a huge can of whoop-ass, but I didn’t care. If he wrote a bunch of nasty stuff back to me, I’d report him.

A few hours went by and nothing. Then later that evening, I heard back from him. I opened the message, bracing myself for abusive filth.

fetlifedick3

LOL — really? She took it the wrong way? What other way was there to take it, you Troglodyte? Still, I was shocked that he didn’t send me back a lot of righteous indignation. Guess I scared him, the little wuss. Didn’t hear from him again.

Of course, don’t think I initiated any sort of personality overhaul or anything. Next day, I found out he’d written to Alex’s “brother” and top, Zack, telling him how rude she is and how he should “tighten the leash” and punish her for her disrespect. Jeeeezus.

*groan* I wish Zack had also ripped him a new one. But he’s nicer than I am, so he tried to reason with the guy instead. Didn’t get anywhere. Oh, well. Out of my hands now, for sure. No regrets on my end. Like I said, writing that to him felt damn good. It was like striking back after years and years of getting shit like this. Empowerment!

Anyway… yeah, I know this is nothing in the overall scheme of things right now. But like I said, it’s the little things. The mini-laughs, the small victories, the fleeting moments of good feelings among the fear, the anger, the uncertainty.

I work at home, so I basically hole up all week in my apartment and stay there. I use the gym equipment in the apartment building, wiping it down first. Grocery shopping has been quite the adventure, although I have discovered the odds of finding things are better if you go early. I went at the ungodly hour of 7 a.m. this week and actually scored some toilet paper and antibacterial wipes, which I hadn’t seen in weeks. My bangs are growing into my eyes and my gray roots are spreading. I miss all the little things we take for granted every day.

John is an essential worker, so he is still going to the office three days a week, but he’s in an isolated office with no one else and all communications are done via phone and teleconferences. He works at home two days. My biggest terror over this whole situation is his vulnerability, what with his heart condition and compromised immune system. If I catch Covid-19, I’ll probably get over it. If he catches it, it could kill him.

In an effort to minimize his public contact, I go to his place on Saturday morning. Beforehand, I stop and buy all his groceries, as well as food for us for Saturday and Sunday. Then I head to his place, delouse everything and put it away, and we hunker down there until I go back home. We decided that was far less risky than his going out and buying his own necessities. Needs must and all that.

I’m grateful for work, more than I can say. I’m grateful I don’t have children or aging parents to worry about. I’m grateful I was able to pay my rent two days ago. I’m grateful for my friends who check in with me every day. I just have to ensure, a day at a time, that I don’t give in to the fear. That I don’t fall into the abyss of depression. Seeing this the other day made me laugh; I know it’s dark, I know it’s horrible, but for those of us who have been there, we get it.

suicidetweet

So. Everyone please stay safe. Stay the @#$% at home as much as you are able to. Turn off the 24/7 news; it’s not good for your mental health and well-being. Stay in touch virtually with your friends. And hang in there. Whatever you are going through, please hang in there. Somehow, we’re going to get through this goddamn pandemic, eventually. ♥ ♥ ♥

How to ruin a compliment

I guess this could be sort of a mini-Correspondence Hall of Shame; it’s just one entry. It started out nice, though. Last week on Curious Cat, an anonymous poster, instead of posing a question as per usual, wrote a comment to me along the lines of how I talk about my age a lot, but I look great. That they watched Naughty Secretaries 2 — I was hot then, and hot now. (That was shot twenty years ago, BTW.) I was pleased with this and thanked them sincerely.

Until another anonymous person chimed in with this:

Erica’s bottom is tempting, in spite of her age.

Really? Really?? 😛

This could have been nice too. They could have changed “in spite of” to “no matter what,” and I would have thanked them sincerely as well.

Or they could have simply posted the first four words and left the rest off. But nooooo.

Therefore, instead of a thank you, that poster gets this:

tonytiger

Yeah, you tell ’em, Tony. Many thanks to my dear buddy Dave Wolfe  for sending me this picture, along with a note about how I “might find it handy.” How well he knows me.

I feel like I should say something here, since some people are asking me. Regarding all the fires burning in California right now, both Northern and Southern, I am safe. I do not live in a fire area, for which I am grateful every minute. The air quality is crappy and the sky is hazy-ish, but I am not in any danger. John, however, does live in a fire-prone canyon area. And with a freaking fire erupting every damn day, I am terrified his area will be next. Talk about feeling powerless.

And it’s exceptionally maddening, knowing that if my state were to completely burn to ashes and fall off the map, the only thing the Day-Glo orange dumbass dotard in chief would say about it is, “Too bad! They should have raked their forests more!” I’d like to rake his forest.

So, between bouts of anxiety and bouts of tears, it has not been a good week. I’m so tired.

Tired of bad news all the fucking time with no end in sight.

Tired of let-downs and disappointments.

Tired of crying.

Despite my desire to stay holed up in my apartment, I am going to pack up my things and head for John’s as per usual, in hopes of a relaxing and distracting weekend. I’d say we’re both due for a weekend where things go smoothly, after last weekend. Because if one more unexpected bad thing happens, I think I’m going to go stark raving slobbering mad.

But hey, I’m still grateful for my apartment. And grateful for work. I’ll end on that.

Have a good weekend, y’all. Don’t forget to set your clocks back if it applies to you.

Correspondence Hall of Shame, 9/20

Yup, I’m still getting this crap, kids. I guess some things never change. And I suppose, in a perverse way, I should be grateful. After all, there will more than likely come a day when I’m bawling, “Why isn’t anyone perving me anymoooooore??” (eye roll)

MMMMMMM you like black cock you like to get your pussy pound deep and hard and fuck hard….. you like taboo

MMMMMMM… I like my butt spank. Bye now.

hi you looking to meet and get knotted let me know if your interested i have a trained pet

WTAF is getting knotted? Never mind, I don’t want to know. Buzz off, Junior. (Did I mention this one is 25?)

This one is in response to my never-ending lament about how I hate the “compliment” of someone saying I look good “for my age.”

I think your ass looks very nice for any age,,,,, I do think it would look nicer with a good spanking and a dick shoved up in it tight

(looking around) I’m sorry. I’m trying to discover who asked you what you think. Tight? You wish, honey. I get the feeling your tiny little member wouldn’t be tight in a thimble.

And finally, while we’re on the “of a certain age” BS…

Ready to start your cougar training?
ever thought about you being a live in full time?

You ready for me to claw your fucking face off?? And to answer your question… well, let’s review. I love my boyfriend of twenty-three years, and I still have no desire to live with him. So why in nonexistent deity’s name would I think about living with the likes of you?

I will say this for the twenty millionth time: Calling a woman a cougar is not a compliment. Knock. It. OFF.

Moving on, but speaking of age, I have another birthday this Sunday. Christ, didn’t I just have one? 😛 This week, feeling droppy after my intense experience with B last week and also feeling the birthday blues, I was so hoping I could play with D. Alas, it was not meant to be. He’s still around… but inaccessible. Working insane hours all week, and the only free time he has is on weekends… and I’m not around then. (sigh) Color me frustrated. (What color is frustration, anyway?)

Yesterday afternoon, speak of the devil, D texts me out of nowhere from work. He’s never done that before; he always emails. For about a split second, I wondered if maybe he was going to say, “Hey, if I take the afternoon off, you wanna play?” but I knew that was ridiculous. Responsible adults don’t do stuff like that. No, he was just saying hi. And then he segued into how he’s been “reminiscing” about our last scene. (Five weeks ago already!! Where the hell does time go??)

Oh, yeah?

Then he typed out a few of those memories. Nothing graphic, just… well. Yeah, I remembered them too.

And then he had to go on a conference call. Bye bye.

Well, hell. In a lather, I texted Jay and asked how the hell I’m supposed to work now after getting texts like those. She wrote back that I should tell him to stop reminiscing and start reenacting.

Oh, I liked that. I liked that so much, I emailed it to him later. I told him he had distracted me from work, that I’d been so flustered that I had to stop and do a workout. That he really should stop that. No, really. Stop it some more.

He wrote back, laughing. “Sorry about that.” Oh, sure. Sorry, my unspanked ass. Then he added that as soon as this work crush eased, “reenacting” was a top priority for him.

Of course, I have no idea when that might be. It could be next week. Or next month. Or next year.

Sigh again. So no birthday spanking session for this girl. Sucks.

But I will be with John my whole birthday weekend, and I’m sure he’s got something or another up his sleeve. So I’m going to head over there later and immerse myself in birthday attention. ♥ Fun stuff.

Have a great weekend, y’all. (I would say “happy start of fall,” but here in Southern CA, we don’t have fall, just extended summer!)

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