Dare I say…

…it’s ABOUT FUCKING TIME???

Yup… eleven days past the actual event, finally got my birthday spanking. 😀

Wednesday I got email from D. He was trying to move some things around at work, and he could come over the next morning — was I available?

Was I available? Is Donald Trump orange?? I mean, yeah, I had work and stuff, but everything was flexible. So I answered, very simply, “Yes, please.” Especially to the part where he mentioned “bare-assed punishment.”

I’ve come to realize something: my views on the word “ass” have definitely changed. Years ago in my book, I wrote that I didn’t care for it, I thought it was crass, and that I preferred “bottom.” But now, it seems that my feelings about the word are dependent upon who is saying it. From a stranger on Alt.com, it’s still kind of overly familiar and icky. But from someone I know and like, in the right context? It’s pretty damned hot.

Anyway — we set it up for 10:30. I got up at 8:00, made some coffee, but declined to eat breakfast for obvious reasons. Once I was ready, I worked until he arrived, looking handsome as always in his suit. This time, he had a backpack with him and had brought a pair of board shorts, so he could change out of the hot and heavy suit. Good idea (although I missed watching him roll up his sleeves). He went into my bathroom to change, and came out wearing the shorts and an undershirt. Fortunately, it was much cooler here than it had been the last time he visited.

Oh, and he came with some chocolate. 🙂 I don’t remember this, but I guess at some point I’d mentioned that I love peanut M&M’s, and he brought me some of those. Happy me! But that was for later. We had other things to attend to.

(I didn’t put out any implements this time. Hey, he didn’t tell me to. Yeah… bad idea, Erica. It’s a hell of a lot easier to just put the damn things out beforehand, than to have to stagger into the bedroom half-dressed mid-scene — TWICE — to retrieve them.)

As before, we made use of nearly every area in my living/dining room area — the couch, the recliner, the dining room chair, my desk. On the latter, I tried to move everything aside, but as we progressed, I could hear things crashing onto the floor — my WiFi modem, a small framed picture, my mouse. Oh well. Wreck the place, I didn’t care at the moment. I’d deal with it later.

Our play gets a little bit better each time, I think. He is more familiar with me, has more confidence in knowing what I like. And I am more relaxed, letting go immediately and feeling the endorphins soar. Every time I feel his fingers snaking up the back of my neck, I know that fist is going to tighten in my hair and mmmmmmmmmpphhhh… He has incredible hands. Way, way back when I wrote my very first spanking ad, I included the question: “Do you have hands that can both caress and chastise?” D definitely does.

I wanted to play hard yesterday. It had been six weeks since I’d seen him, I didn’t know how long it would be until I see him again, and I wanted to make our time count. I felt very connected to him and trusting. When we’d been at it for a while, I noticed he wasn’t ramping it up quite as much as he had before. I waited, hoping he would, but it wasn’t happening. I really hate topping from the bottom — I know it seems like that’s something I do a lot, with bratting, but truth be told, I’d rather not once the scene is to the point where I just want to shut up and feel. But I couldn’t help it; at one point, during a flurry with my wooden paddle, I blurted, “Oh, please, harder!” He obliged readily, and that did it — I felt that push, that challenge, dancing on the line between pleasure and pain, between just enough and too much. “Thank you,” I breathed.

He must have heard the change in my voice, the wavering, the sounds more pained. “Almost done,” he murmured. The last bout was back over my desk with my leather paddle, fast and hard, my back bowed, my hand over my mouth to stifle the reactions. I did not cry this time, but I shook all over. My legs would barely hold me up. He dropped the paddle with a decisive thud and gathered me into his arms, where I trembled and clung. So good. So. Damn. Good.

He hung out a while, gave me a nice massage with lotion, we chatted a bit, but unfortunately, he had a 1:15 conference call waiting for him back at work and had to get going. (sigh) I’m grateful he was able to carve out some time. It sounds like all he’s been doing lately is working, and working some more. I reluctantly said goodbye to him. Thank you, D. ♥

After he left, I thought, oh, damn. We forgot pictures again. Since I still had plenty of color, I once again tried the bathroom mirror selfie thing. My first try was somewhat decent, but not great:

So I tried again. And again. And a few more times. Until I finally got this one and said okay, good enough.

I realized I was ravenously hungry, so I inhaled a bowl of cereal and then attempted to settle down into work, but I was feeling so spacey and blissful, it was hard to concentrate. How many times have I expressed that I wish I could capture that bliss, that euphoria, and keep it a while? I need to remember how it feels. So, putting work aside once again, I attempted to capture my mood in another selfie. I think I did pretty well.

This is pure joy. This is peace. This is a fulfilled and happy woman. When my old buddy depression stomps into the picture again, I can look at this and remember — yes, I can feel good too. No matter how weepy/droppy/utterly blech I get, to the point where I can’t remember feeling any other way, I can look at this.

I suppose some people out there would feel sorry for me, thinking, “Sheesh — she needs pain to feel like this??” Ah, they’ll never understand. It’s not about pain. It’s about the connection. It’s about the trust, the chemistry, the mutual attraction, the endorphins. (Okay, and about the pain, too. But that’s just part of it.)

Later in the afternoon, I felt peckish again and was going to have a protein drink. But then I looked at the package of peanut M&M’s. I noticed the calorie count was the same as a bottle of Boost. And hey, there is protein in peanuts, so… Yeah, don’t judge me. They were delicious. 🙂 And besides, D told me later that he had indulged in a chocolate whoopie pie and even sent me a picture of it. So there.

(And you’ll all be glad to know that despite the distractions, I got all my work done.)

Today, I am tired and sore and still feeling the afterglow. Taking my good mood into the weekend, and looking forward to celebrating John’s birthday (tomorrow!). I have presents and treats for my sweetheart and will take him to dinner tomorrow night.

Oh, and speaking of birthdays, here’s a Flashback Friday for ya: Today is my beloved Danny Chrighton’s birthday! Those of you who have been with me since my MySpace blog days, remember this little incident we had with his birthday cake? 😀

Ah, memories.

Have a great weekend, y’all.

The ephemeral nature of kink intimacy: Can it be real?

And if it can, how do you know when it is?

ephemeral

[ ih-fem-er-uhl ]SHOW IPA

SYNONYMS|EXAMPLES|WORD ORIGIN

SEE MORE SYNONYMS FOR ephemeral ON THESAURUS.COM

---

adjective

lasting a very short time; short-lived; transitory:

the ephemeral joys of childhood.

 

lasting but one day:

an ephemeral flower.

 

(Why do you show off so damn much with your million-dollar words, Erica?) I can’t help it. I like them. But you can’t complain if I provide the definition, right?

Note: I’m aware that many of my readers are married to or monogamously involved with their spankers, and don’t play with others. This post is more for those who do play with others, whether or not they have a primary relationship… a situation that can be a lot more confusing. Leave it to me to choose the more complicated route.

According to general societal patterns (you know, those “normal” people), here’s the blueprint: Couples meet, however they meet. They exchange names. They talk, share basic information. In the course of a few hours, a few phone calls, a few dates, whatever, they learn more about one another. Preferences of all kinds. Music/book/movie tastes. Political leanings. Fears. Hopes. Dreams. Failures. The jigsaw puzzle of personality gets filled in, a piece at a time. In the course of this time, there are physical exchanges, often starting with kisses. Then a little more, and a little more, until we have full-on sexual intimacy.

Now we kinksters, we do everything ass backwards (word play intended). Oftentimes, basic vetting aside, we play first and ask questions later. We have physical intimacy first. Instead of that slow burn of growing attracted to one another as we learn more, we burn hot from the get-go, act on chemistry over personal knowledge, invite others into our homes, our beds, our bodies, our playrooms, etc. before we’ve even begun to invite them into our hearts or our day-to-day lives. Oftentimes, that last part doesn’t happen.

Personally, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. It’s kind of hot. If I wanted to go the traditional route, I would have. I tried it for many years. It’s overrated.

Funny and perfect case in point: When D came over a few weeks ago, we’d met only once, and briefly. Essentially, I brought a strange man into my home, my space. I felt completely okay with that. We played. We had intense and close-up contact. I laid myself out, physically and emotionally. He inflicted both pain and pleasure. He saw me raw and open, exposed.

Afterward, when I was lying on the couch bare-ass naked with him massaging lotion into me, I dreamily turned my head and asked, “What’s your last name?”

He told me. I told him mine. And the massage continued.

I’ve been doing this for so long, this feels perfectly normal. But I know there are tons of people out there who would be shocked at the idea of someone seeing their bare ass (not to mention exposed genitalia) before said someone learns their full, real name.

This is what I call “pseudo-intimacy.” It’s an intimacy quickly forged out of a strong cocktail of physical attraction and a shared desire, a common bond of kink. But is it real intimacy — whatever the hell that is? And if it isn’t, can it become so? When does a play partnership cross over into a real friendship, a relationship of sorts, where people care about one another?

Most of you know the story of how John and I met. I placed an ad; he answered it. We chatted once on the phone. And then we met for coffee. We talked at Starbucks until they closed, then went for a walk. He ended up pulling me over his leg in the alley behind Starbucks and spanking me, until we heard the telltale jingle of a leash and a man appeared, walking his dog (and getting quite the eyeful). We then proceeded to John’s vehicle where he spanked me some more, gave me an orgasm, and he took my panties, claiming I’d have to see him again if I wanted them back.

This is not your typical “first date.” We were both seeing other people at the time.

Cut to the present — on August 30, we’ll be together 23 years. Somehow, that initial pseudo-intimacy became real, blossomed into something much fuller. It can happen.

But it’s complicated. Because of the nature of what we do, it’s easy to confuse pseudo-intimacy for something real. It’s easy to fall for the actions, thinking you’re falling for the person. When in fact you really don’t know them at all.

I remember my very first spanker. Saw him a total of three times, played twice. Paul. I never did learn his last name. But he changed my life. In one afternoon, in the time span of no more than an hour, he put me on a path of no return, opened me to a vast new world to explore and experience. That first spanking meant more to me than losing my virginity did.

At the time, I remember feeling like I’d fallen in love with Paul. But even then, in my haze of hormones and endorphins and wonder, I knew that wasn’t it. Of course I wasn’t in love with him. I was in love with what he gave me. But of course, sometimes, when your emotions get involved, it’s hard to compartmentalize it like that. The boundaries blur. Your mind says one thing, your body says another, and your heart says yet another.

No wonder so many scene relationships go sideways.

I have been thinking back on some of my play partnerships over the years, many of which have been chronicled in my blogs. All the time I’ve been with John, I’ve played with other men, all with his blessing. I am lucky that way. A lot of these partnerships simply faded away, due to various life circumstances. A couple, I really regret losing. Two come to mind that did indeed blossom into real friendship, much more than just the physical act of getting together to play.

Danny Chrighton and I were play partners for over three years. But we were also the best of friends. We didn’t just play. We hung out. We did stuff together. He and John were buddies. Our play chemistry was awesome, but beyond that, our closeness was true. He knew me, and I knew him. There was mutual trust and respect. And the only thing that ended it was distance, when he moved out of state. I loved him. I still do. I miss what we had, to this day, even though I haven’t seen him in years.

Then there was ST. Same deal, we met through an online ad, got together to play. From the beginning, we were consistent; he came over every Monday evening. We hung out and talked after playing. Our play was sometimes edgy, dancing on the boundaries and limits, maybe at times a little scary… because I trusted him. I knew within that he would never really hurt me. And on the flip side, we had our silly times, like when he showed up at my place on Halloween, masked and dressed as “Super Spanko.” I knew all kinds of odds and ends about him; the farming community, population 350, he’d grown up in; the names of all his siblings; how much he adored his dog.

We were friends/play partners for over two years. And… then he met someone. There was a mutual attraction, a couple of dates. He told her about me. She said, “I don’t think I like that.”

And just like that, we were done. The last time we played, I wept. I told him I loved him. He said he loved me too, and he always would. But then I never saw him again.

Does that mean that what we had wasn’t real? Is something real when it can be tossed aside so easily? Or is that simply just another sad fact about the nature of relationships? I don’t know.

I bear him no resentment. I did hear from him briefly once, via email. He’d bought a house. I hope he found happiness. He was a good guy; he deserved it.

I suppose the point of all this rambling is — damn. I’ve been doing this for over twenty-three years, and I still get muddled and mixed up emotionally over what’s real and what’s simply born of the intense, instant intimacy and vulnerability. And if I still get taken in by it, how the hell do scene newbies handle it?? How do they navigate the sea of feelings that can be stirred up when you put yourself into someone else’s hands? When they cut through layers and layers of outer bullshit and go straight to your core? When you gift each other with trust and vulnerability, and then it’s gone as quickly as it came?

In a perfect world, pseudo-intimacy would indeed develop into something more real, and more lasting. We could keep those wonderful feelings and experience them again and again. Where real life wouldn’t take them away. Where no matter what relationships go in and out of each person’s life, the core friendships and caring remain.

Is that too much to ask for? I know some say that I don’t have a right to expect this: that I have a relationship, so I shouldn’t want for this too. Well, guess what. I do anyway. I guess I will never stop yearning for it. Because I know it’s possible. And don’t ask me what the man is getting out of it, if he’s not my primary relationship. I sure hope to hell that all the men who have been my play partners over the years got something out of it.

Because I sure did, and I don’t think we could have connected as deeply if they didn’t.

Anyway. I should be working. But sometimes, I just have to ramble. And hope that it resonates with someone out there. Thoughts, anyone? Your own experiences with this?

Post #1000!

As many of my long-time readers know, I started blogging on MySpace many years ago, and when they tanked, I switched over to Blogger in 2010. Since then, my combined posts on Blogger and then WordPress have reached a whopping one thousand. Can’t believe I had that much to say, and I’m still going at it.

What to write for #1000… I had some good suggestions, and thanks to everyone for those. I finally decided to do a tribute post to all the men I’ve worked with in video over the years. It will be a fun retrospective for me, and hopefully for you too.

So that there is no appearance of favoritism, I will post them alphabetically.

Danny Chrighton

It’s fitting that he is first, because not only did we shoot “When Danny Met Erica,” together, but we were play partners and the best of friend for three years, before he moved out of state. We’re still in touch periodically and I hope to see him at a party one of these days. He is dear to me, and I’m so glad I have our video as a souvenir of our time together.

“Coach” Daniels

“Coach” and his partner, Ms. Burns, AKA Veronica Daniels, worked for Real Spankings Institute, then branched off as The Spanking Couple. About ten years ago, they did a filmed interview with me, and Coach and I did a spanking/caning scene. He dubbed me “Great Scott,” which tickled me. Unfortunately, shortly thereafter they were both outed in the scene and all their material was taken down. But I still have the clip and pictures, and a fond memory.

Michael Donovan, AKA The Villain, AKA the Court Disciplinarian

When Spanking Court was filming (sadly, they are no longer), I was lucky enough to do a six-clip story arc with them. Michael and I were friends and occasional play partners then, so it was a joy to be able to work with him. We did a little video on our own as well, “The Villain Strikes Erica Scott,” which I now have in my Spanking Library clips. I had so much fun with him, and with everyone involved in SC.

Steve Fuller

Now retired, Steve was quite the shining star in the video world, working for several companies, and I had the extreme pleasure of being his very first co-star, in Shadow Lane‘s “The Spanking Professor.” I also worked with him for Spanking Epics, doing a couple of their “spanklets” and being part of an ensemble with him in the Being Keith Jones Trilogy. I really liked Steve and miss seeing him in videoland!

Keith Jones

What can I say about Keith — he was my very first co-star, back in 2000 for Shadow Lane, and we went on to do five full-length videos plus a spanklet for Spanking Epics together. Working with him was amazing and we had a lot of fun times, both shooting and playing at parties. He was the one who gave me the nickname “Bionic Bottom.” (It’s not so much anymore, but it was for years!) 🙂 Here I am gleefully pointing out where I’d nicked him after beaning him with a prop bottle. (Actually, I felt awful about that, but he was a good sport!)

Paul Kennedy

I love this man; he’s a good friend to John and me, and he’s the partner of my dear friend Alex Reynolds. I met him in 2009 at a Shadow Lane party, and have wanted to work with him for years. Finally got my chance when Pandora Blake came to L.A. and shot us in “The Workaholic” for Dreams of Spanking. It was a fun shoot, full of energy and snappy dialogue, and great spanking (hand, hairbrush, belt).

Ralph Marvell

Of all my co-stars, I’ve known Ralph the longest; we met in 1999, became friends, and shot “Spank Thy Neighbor” for Shadow Lane in 2001. We got a little frisky at the end of that video, and the first time I watched it was quite the experience, sitting between Ralph and John and blushing from head to toe. We’re still buddies to this day.

(Jesus, those granny panties… not of my choosing!)

Stephen Lewis

I shot two films for Northern Spanking with Stephen, and he was a blast. He was a wonderful sport, even when I was throwing his slipper at him or dumping M&M’s over his head, and he and I had crackling chemistry and repartee on screen. He had the ability to meet all my smart-assery with his own jabs, which made it all the more fun.

Devlin O’Neill

Devlin and I did one shoot together, Shadow Lane‘s “Stand Corrected,” and it was quite the memorable experience. We wrote the script, and we did a road trip together from L.A. to Vegas. Both of us had terrible colds, but we soldiered on, sucking down Sudafed and throat lozenges, and made it through a vigorous shoot. Devlin was a sweetie, and we had a lot of laughs during our long drive to and from Vegas. He even let me eat ice cream in his car, which he teasingly told me not to mention, because his littles at the time were not allowed to do so! (That was eleven years ago, so I think it’s OK to mention it now!)

John Osborne

The busy top of Triple AAA Spanking (and partner of Sarah Gregory), John and I have shot several videos, both for his site and for Sarah’s. John is a lot of fun to work with; he’s sweet and funny and I enjoy playing with him off camera too!

Paul Rogers

In 2010, I flew to Connecticut to shoot with Sarah Gregory and Paul, for both her site and his clip site Spanking 101. I was with them four days, shot a lot of content and had a marvelous time. Paul and Sarah treated me like a queen and we ended up with some great stuff. Paul is one hell of a spanker, too — I trashed his hand, but he trashed me pretty good too! (In the best possible way, of course.)

Uncle Bob

I shot a few clips for Uncle Bob’s Woodshed clip site a few years ago, including a fun one called “Sweet Revenge” in which I blistered Bob’s hand. 😀  Ah, I love it when that happens. I’ve known Bob for many years and it’s always fun to see him at parties.

Richard Windsor

Rich and I did a little bit of filming together: we shot a vignette for Pixie’s “Cause For Paws,” a quickie clip advertising my book back in 2011, and a two-part interview for Spanking Tube. Even though the experiences were brief, they were great fun.

Robert Wolf

Last but definitely not least, Robert (Lily Starr’s hubby) and I have shot several clips together for Lily Starr Spanking, including “The Devil Wears a Red Bottom,” “The Online Menace” (in which I blistered his hand as well), and one of my favorites, “The Secret Life of the Kinky Wife.” He’s a sweetie (as is his lovely wife!).

I do need to mention Amateur Spankings — I shot for them, but the spanker likes to stay off camera and I don’t know what name he uses publicly, so it’s best that I leave it at that. But it was fun and he’s a nice guy. 🙂

Honorable mention: There is one man I’ve always wished I could have shot with, and that’s Eric Strickman, AKA Uncle Eric. He and I have never met, but we used to IM a great deal and we even talked on the phone a couple of times (those of you who know me, know what a rarity that is). Why did I want to shoot with him? Just look at him!

I’ve been so very lucky, working with such talented men. They gave me more memorable experiences than I can count and brought me much delicious pain and even more delicious pleasure. Thank you all. ♥

That’s it for #1000. I don’t know if I have another thousand in me, kids, but as long as you want to keep reading, I’ll keep writing.

Have a great weekend, y’all.

Girls’ Night IN

Last night, Alex, SpankCake and I convened at SC’s house for dinner and catching up. It had been way too long! We ordered in from GrubHub, sat around in very comfy A/C and talked the hours away. What else do girls do when they have a night in? Do shots and have a pillow fight? Paint our toenails and do our hair? Please! That’s amateur stuff. We watched spanking porn. 😀

SC has a reallllllly big screen, as you can see. Neither she nor Alex had ever seen “When Danny Met Erica,” so we watched. I must confess, it was more than a little squirmy, watching my own private bits flashing and gaping on such a huge screen. Still, it was fun to share my favorite video with them. They both pronounced it “hot.” Damn, I miss you, Danny Chrighton.

We also watched the finished result of the custom film that Alex and several of us shot for her client back in February. I think it’s safe to say I’m never going to wear a pillbox hat or gloves for the rest of my natural life. But we all gave it our best and it had been so much fun. Props to everyone involved. And no, sorry, this will not go public!

And this lovely evening was on top of a visit from Steve earlier in the day. It was kind of a thrash-and-dash, as he had a doctor’s appointment and a lot of other things to do in preparation for a four-day hiking trip he’s taking. Blech! Better him than me! But it was still enough time to lay on some sting and leave me pleasantly glowing for the rest of my workday until I met up with my pals.

Today it is going to be 90 degrees. Sounds hot, but after Monday’s 112, I will take it. My A/C could not keep up with 112, but it can manage 90s. I may even brave the gym.

Oh, and happy #NoPantyDay! That’s a thing, in case you didn’t know… June 22.

Odds & Ends not in my book, Part 3

Today’s offering: a favorite Danny Chrighton story.

Most of you know by now that Danny was my play partner for a few years, when he lived here in L.A. He’s still a dear friend, even though he lives in CO now. I wrote about him at length in my book, but here’s a little tidbit that didn’t make it.

We shared an appreciation for Rat Pack-style music, especially Dean Martin. He knew my favorite Dino song is “Memories Are Made Of This” — when Shadow Lane had their “Brat Pack” party a few years ago, I’d requested that song. (I believe Danny’s favorite was “Sway,” if I’m remembering correctly.)

Anyway, cut to a private house spanking party we attended one Saturday night. It was a fun, lively gathering, back in the day when L.A. had a great party scene. Our host was in a band, and he and his bandmates were playing for us in the garage.

After the band stopped and most of the people had meandered back inside to eat, play, etc., Danny wandered over and picked up one of the guitars. I knew he could play and sing — he’d brought a guitar to his first SL party and played on the stage with Bob the DJ. Still, I couldn’t resist teasing him. “Hey, put that down. It’s not a toy.”

He just smiled at me, then began to play. I recognized the song immediately — “Memories Are Made Of This.”

He sang the entire song, start to finish. Knew all the chords, all the lyrics. Some others came back in and a small crowd gathered. But he was playing to me.

I don’t know if he always knew the song, or if he learned it after he found out it was my favorite. Doesn’t matter. No man had ever sung to me before. Let me tell you, it’s a really lovely experience.

When the song was over, people clapped, and there was a chorus of “Danny, I didn’t know you could play!” “Wow, that was great!” etc. I stood back, waiting for the group to disperse once again. Then I walked over to Danny and whispered three words:

“Play with me.”

More than anything at that moment, I wanted to be over his lap, feeling the intensity of that same hand that had just strummed out a song I loved. He took my hand and led me back into the house, and we found a private area to have an intense spanking scene. Lovely.

“Sweet sweet, the memories you gave to me…”

In case y’all don’t know the song, here it is: (click on the arrow, then on the link “Watch This on YouTube”)

Birthday greetings

No ST tonight after all; he didn’t feel well. I suppose if I had to skip a Monday with him, it worked out well that it’s a Monday after an intense thrashing on Saturday. But I missed him anyway. Feel better soon, sweetie.

Since I can’t do a scene writeup, I’m going to take this time to wish a happy birthday to two wonderful men.

First up — tomorrow, October 4, is Danny Chrighton’s birthday. Wish I could see him and give him a big birthday hug and a smooch (and take his birthday spanking). So many fond memories… like here, the two of us being silly:

And of course, I can’t let any birthday of his go by without trotting this one back out… 😀

(snickering) Ah, good times. Happy birthday, darlin’. Is there such a thing as a bacon birthday cake?

And the next day, October 5, is none other than my beloved’s birthday.

I won’t see him until Friday, but we’ll celebrate this weekend. Already planning to take him to one of our favorite restaurants and bake him his favorite scratch brownies. 🙂  He never lets me buy him presents, so I have to get creative. Attention on him makes John uncomfortable (a trait his girlfriend does not share). One time I had a big bunch of balloons delivered to his office, figuring everyone would see and then make a fuss over him. He told me, “That was so sweet of you, thank you and I love you. Now please, promise me you’ll never do that again.” (sigh)

When Danny lived here, we’d have a double b-day celebration. Damn, I miss that crazy man.

Who else has an October birthday? (I know at least one other person…)

Love you guys! Enjoy your special days. ♥