Size DOES matter

As in the size of riding crops! (WTF did you think I was talking about?)

Steve showed up at my door yesterday brandishing a crop I hadn’t seen before; he said he’d rediscovered it going through some of his stuff. The first thing I noticed was that the tip, while leather (there is no way I will allow a rubber-tipped crop; I’ve experienced that and don’t want to again), was very small and skinny, until the broader tip of our favorite. Uh oh. I’ve been around implements long enough to know that oftentimes, smaller means more painful, because it concentrates the sensation in smaller areas.

I was right.

Yesterday was intense anyway, for various reasons. I’m so damn stressed lately; things going on with John that I’d rather not go into (his work), plus all the anger and negativity everywhere over this @#$%ing election. Just the other day, I was called a “leftist Jew” on Twitter. I felt overwhelmed with tension and was fairly bursting with it when Steve arrived. We talked for a long time and I wept before he even touched me.

I also wept during our scene, and afterward. I guess I needed to.

But oh, that crop. I hate that thing! It’s nasty! I like sting, but this sting is different, since it’s so concentrated. It felt like I was being stung by multiple bees, again and again. I tried my best to keep still, to not squirm and writhe, but it was a challenge. Breathe, I thought. Settle. Accept. Take it in.

Feel. Just feel. Then you don’t have to think.

Afterward, I was drained and tired, so drowsy. All I wanted to do was curl up and sleep all afternoon. But I had to be all adult-y and stuff and work.

Someone suggested yesterday that I stay off all social media for the next two weeks. But I know I can’t do that. However, I no longer watch the news, or even any of the talk shows. I don’t want to hear about what’s going on. I have retreated into nostalgia — lately, I’ve been watching MeTV, AntennaTV and the Buzzr channel (old game shows). Although it’s pretty surreal to watch an 80s Johnny Carson show and hear him mention Trump. Some things never change…

Ugh. Must go work out. Must copy edit. And tonight’s reward, a new Law and Order: SVU episode. Last week it was pre-empted… for that fucking debate! 😛

Stress relief, and a runaway bus

OK, kids — no matter what side you’re on, I think we can all agree that this godawful Presidential election, fraught with anger and ugliness, could send anyone in this country to the loony bin. I know that if I’m going to survive, I need stress release, and I need to laugh. Fortunately, I’ve had opportunities for both this week.

First, for the past three days, I’ve been engaging in a war of bratty tweets on Twitter. It started out with Ulf Sayer, Kajira Bound and me, and then it expanded to include Alex Reynolds, Paul Kennedy and Nuna Starks. Ulf had claimed that, because of me, the hashtag #SpankOnSight has become an international necessity. And sometime yesterday, I’ve lost track of who started it, but the hashtag #BlameEricaScott became a thing.

So, I tweeted a photo of myself with a very innocent face, and said, “Who, meeee?” And late last night, Alex tweeted, “YES YOU!!!”

Humph! I then replied to all, “Did anyone get the license plate of that bus I just got thrown under?”

And Miss Alex came back with, “I did! Here you go!” Accompanied by this:

Well, I never! I am flabbergasted! I am verklempt! Or, to employ my beloved boyfriend’s goyishe interpretation, I am kermufft!

Today, Kajira posted a picture of herself about to be spanked by Ulf, and tweeted that this is what happens every time she talks with or quotes me. To which I said, “You’re welcome.” 😀

But back to stress relief. Steve and I were able to get together for a couple of hours yesterday, and we made good use of it. And finally got some new pictures. For this one, he called out, “Give me your best ‘WTF are you doing??’ face!” Which translated into my signature “righteous indignation” face:

And then, of course, there’s my “Is that all you’ve got?” face:

Apparently, it wasn’t all he had.

Notice that my thighs got a bit of attention too.

All good. I certainly felt a lot more relaxed afterward. And the laughter certainly felt wonderful.

Friends are good things. ♥ Bus tracks on my ass notwithstanding.

At long last…

…play. Finally. It’s been a while.

Steve and I celebrated our four-year play partner anniversary yesterday. It occurred to me that he has now been my top longer than any other I’ve had in my twenty years of playing. (I don’t count John in that number, as he occupies a completely different place.) Steve always told me he wasn’t going anywhere. It took me a long time, but now I believe him.

He showed up with a small chocolate cake and a card (I had a card for him as well), and then we went out for a late breakfast in one of my favorite local spots where they specialize in breakfasts (waffles, in particular). It had cooled down enough so that we could sit outside and enjoy the patio area with a pretty fountain, and we even had a table in the shade. After a lovely meal (I got to have two kinds of homemade jam for my toast), we came back to my place and played.

Ah. It was worth the wait. 🙂

It was nice to take a short break from the insanity that’s been my life lately and stop thinking… just feel. Just immerse myself in pleasure-pain and have the world dwindle down to nothing but me and my top, in the moment.

Steve had no camera with him, just his cell, so our pictures aren’t the greatest of quality. But it sure is nice to have some new ones.

Love love love our crop!

Ah, so ladylike am I…

Since my work week isn’t quite as hectic, I’m going to treat myself to a couple of hours off, and some retail therapy. The Shadow Lane party is in a few weeks — new panties are in order! Perhaps a cute summer dress or two as well. Happy hump day!

Spank-atica??

Yeah, I know. It’s not a word. Yesterday, it’s what Steve suggested should take the place of my back issues and sciatica. Have to agree with him, even though the term is ridiculous. 😛

So I’ve been having on and off issues with my left hip/hamstring/lower back. I can’t even tell what the origin is anymore. I just know it’s been sore and stiff and annoying. If I exercise and stretch, it hurts. If I do nothing, it still hurts. So, per the instructions of my toppy new chiropractor, I’ve been exercising and stretching, icing, and rolling around on a tennis ball to deeply massage the areas. Sounds weird, but it’s quite effective. I’m fully functional, not in major pain, just uncomfortable.

After an hour of deep tissue massage and manipulations on Monday, I was a little leery about having any heavy impact on my butt. Even though the pain isn’t there per se, the adjacent tissues seem to freak out nonetheless. So I told Steve, how about we go for pure sting and minimal impact today? I reallllly wanted to feel that bite and sting, but I didn’t want the underlying muscle spazzing out on me.

Turns out, that was just the ticket. 🙂

Steve went straight to the kitchen drawer to retrieve three different spatulas. (Why do I have all this crap when I don’t cook??) Those, plus the riding crop, made for a wonderful selection of sting, with wrist flicking and minimal thud, but my skin felt like I’d sat on a hornet’s nest.

You can see how, when we started, Steve was a little timid, not wanting to hurt me, concentrating all the strikes in the center. (That changed, of course. But I thought it was cute.) The picture quality is subpar, because he didn’t bring his camera, and therefore we used my antique phone.

As the sting spread and built, I had to remind myself to relax, give into it, don’t tense up. My body still wants to resist, even though my mind and soul crave it. Hearing Steve croon “Breathe, baby” is helpful. Basics. Breathe. Relax. Feel. Accept.

And as you can, by the time we reached the end, he’d spread the burn a bit more. I like the angle of this photo, but it’s also a little rude, so you get the edited version. No complaining. 🙂

It seems Operation Spankatica was a success. Last night and this morning, I felt a prickly residual sting and warmth, but no muscle pain. I’m going to see how the gym feels later. Thank you, Dr. Steve.

And back to my chiropractor for a moment — I swear, the man is a top. Or a wannabe top, anyway. I’ve seen him three times now and every time he’s said something that gives me that kinky startled pause. On Monday, when he had me twisted into a pretzel on the table, he gleefully exclaimed, “This is gonna SUCK!” And when I squirmed around, he said, “Where do you think you’re going? You’re not going anywhere.” Oh, Christ.

However, all kidding aside, he knows his stuff, and I feel like he’s going to be helpful. The one chiro I tried before I found him? She was the pits — barely did anything, her muscle stimulation equipment didn’t work (to which she said, “My machine doesn’t like you”), and she freaked me out, saying things like “I’m not happy with your back” and “This is not good at all” and “I can’t adjust you today; you’re too tight. You’ll have to come back.” (By the way, even though she claimed she couldn’t adjust me, she still charged me full price.) When I saw this guy for the first time and he assessed everything, I asked what he thought, if I was as bad as the other doc said. “Nah,” he said. “Sounds like she was just trying to keep you coming back. I don’t do that; you call the shots and come in when you feel like you need to. I’m not trying to finance a yacht.”

So, more to be revealed on this one, methinks. 😀  Happy hump day.

The great escape

What… did you think I was going to stay off-topic and keep ranting about world issues? Nah. I can only stand so much of that. I have way too damn much on my mind these days. Besides work, and the fact that I can’t stand this time of year, and all the bad news out there, now John, with his bent for being a squeaky wheel at work (which, unfortunately, is part of his job) is embroiled in a series of clashes with some of his higher-ups. He doesn’t seem to be concerned about it, as he has Union representation. Me? I’m freaking out. And every night when we talk and he tells me the latest details, I sprout a new crop of gray hairs.

So yeah. I needed some escape. And guess what? So did Steve. He still hasn’t found work yet and has no idea where he’s going to end up. That kind of uncertainty would send me to the loony bin, but he seems to be taking it in stride. Nevertheless, I think he needs his mini-oasis times as much as I do.

It had been a couple of weeks, and I was more than ready, tense and taut and needing to tell the world to eff off for a couple of hours. What is it about an intense spanking session that makes everything go away? I closed my eyes and soon forgot it all. My only awareness was the sound of flesh hitting flesh, and Steve’s voice. My initial squirming and resistance melted into acquiescence, welcoming the sting and sinking into it.  No tears for me this time; I didn’t feel sad. It wasn’t that kind of release. The feeling was more like the tension was suddenly rushing out my pores, out my lungs as I exhaled, leaving behind nothing but sweet, clean euphoria.

There was pain; of course, there’s always pain. At one point I had my face mashed into a cushion, hollering into it, muffling my cries. But did I want it to stop? No. Whenever a flurry ended, I raised my hips up for more.

“I want to use the crop today,” Steve whispered. Yes. It’s our favorite.

So, here’s a before picture:

Note the socks. My feet were freezing, so he insisted I keep them on. Wouldn’t want me to be uncomfortable, would he?

Well, not my feet, anyway.

Cliché as this is, damn, I needed that. 🙂

Nothing changed in those couple of hours. But they were a pleasant respite all the same. And the bubble of euphoria took me into the evening and then to a wonderful night’s sleep.

Now, work is done for the day, and it’s time to hit the gym. Always a fun time working out after a hard spanking…

(No. I’m not really complaining.)

On Halloween…

… what would a miscreant costume look like?

This, perhaps?

Oh, good. Then I don’t have to buy anything. 🙂

It seems that Mr. Steve took exception to my snarking at him on my blog last week. #sorrynotsorry

“I got the pictures to you, didn’t I?”

“Yes, but they were late.”

“But I got the pictures to you, didn’t I?”

“You said ‘I’ll send them to you tonight,’ not ‘I’ll send them to you tomorrow.’ ”

“You ended up with the pictures, didn’t you?”

(sighing) “It’s really quite simple. If you say you’re going to do something at a certain time, do it at that time. If you’re not going to do it, then don’t say you will.”

“What’s really simple is that you’ll pay the consequence for my lateness. You’re the bottom; you’re always wrong.”

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Well, that just @#$%ing bites, doesn’t it?

He even brought over a new toy, a crop with a different sort of tip to it — still leather, but floppier and thinner, so much more stinging. I had to keep reminding myself throughout the barrage: “You like sting, Erica. Remember, you like sting. Would you rather have heavy thud right now?” Of course not. Still, that thing is mean.

To be fair, he did stay away from my sit spots this time. We have decided to avoid those for a while, to give that one weak spot a rest. So that’s why you don’t see the redness extending down as it usually does.

See that crop’s tip? Ouch.

I like the peek-a-boo factor of this one — both my eye, and the redness peeping out under my dress.

And this time, Steve loaded the photos directly from his phone onto my computer before he left. 😀

To cap off a lovely day, I had dinner last night with my girls Alex and SpankCake. As usual, we were the last ones out of the restaurant, with the staff flashing the lights on and off as a not-so-subtle hint for us to get going already. Sheesh! Why couldn’t we stay and talk while y’all clean up and vacuum and all that other stuff you do before you leave? Other restaurants let us do that. Oh well.

Happy hump day. 🙂