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 “fantasies”

Know Your Audience, Part 2


A couple of weeks ago in Know Your Audience, I wrote about receiving unsolicited fantasy scenarios from strangers. I stressed how important it was to have some sort of awareness of your recipient’s preferences before you sent them something that might resonate with you, but not necessarily with them. Did I also mention that it might be a good idea to proofread the damn thing before you send it? I believe I did.

Well, it happened again. This is possibly one of the worst examples I’ve gotten. And I’m sorry, kids, but if I have to read this shit, then so do you. 😛 Here it is, in all its error-riddled glory. (I was going to type [sic] after every mistake, but then it would be twice as long.)

I call you in the office and you see Jill, Patty and Bob are there. I ask you to take a seat and explain to you that these other employees , who have worked at the firm longer, are complaining about your behavior and attitude. I tell you that I appreciated your work but we need to all get along harmoniously in the office. You beg for the job back and the other girls sitting there with arms folded indicate to me, no way. Patty blurts out that you are just a spoiled brat who thinks she can always get her way by flirting and hanging on the guys. Jill agrees and you say, that you’ll stop it, you promise. Then Jill comes up with an idea, that fine she can stay but she has to be punished and disciplined, like you did to Cathy when she first came. You look surprise as this sounds a little infintile, yet arousing. You ask what happen to Cathy, and Patty tells you, Steve turned her over his knee and gave her a spanking in front of everyone in the office. It was panties down and the back end of a hairbrush. I ask you calmly if you would be willing to be disciplined in front of these workers. The thought drives you wild and you can’t believe this is happenning………….

You agree, and I tell you to come her. I grab your wrist and in no time, you are over my lap in front of the 3 workers. They cheer me on as I lift your skirt up to reveal a garter belt, thigh high stockings and nylon purple panties. The spanking immediately begins as you kichk and squirm in your high heels. Spank Splat Whap, Smack!!!!!!!!! Splat, Swap, Swat, Spank!!!!!!!! you wriggle and squirm as the others giggle. Cathy yells out, take her panties down and use the hairbrush. You shudder as Jill comes over and lowers your panties around your knees and hands me a very solid oak hairbrush from her purse. The scent of female arousal is everywhere. Both yours and theirs. Bob is trying to hide his tent, but you totally feel me throbbing against you, while I sit in the chair. Because the hairbrush will sting, I take my right Leg and hook your right leg, while pinning your right arm in the middle of your back. You feel helpless, yet extremely vulnerable as the hairbrush comes crashing down on your beautiful bare behind:Smack, Swat, Slap, Spank!!!!!!!!! You wriggle and squirm but there’s no where to go except rub against my lap. Juices are flowing from everyone as the girls and now Bob cheer me on: Swat!!!!! Smack!!!!!! Splat!!!!! Spank!!!!!!! Oweeeee you cry out like a little naughty school girl over her teachers lap.

(tipping Advil bottle and grabbing a glass of water)

Where do I start with this? Well, let’s see, I’ll just grab stuff at random. Patty, Cathy, Bob? What is this, a 1950s sitcom? Although I don’t think Bob had a “tent” in one of those shows. Or that “juices flowed” from Patty and Cathy. Eww. And really, do we need all those sound effects? Or fifteen exclamation points after each one? Purple nylon panties?? And overall, could this be any cornier? I spent three minutes of my life reading this and I want them back.

For the love of God, don’t send me this crap! I know you’re over there in Mom’s basement nursing your toadstool chubby over this, but you’re making me sick. Stop. Just stop.


Yes, I’m craving spanky stuff. But if I ever reach a point where getting drivel like this is pleasing to me, please just put me in a home. Better yet, shoot me.

Hope everyone is staying safe and well.

Know your audience

Yes, I know I’ve talked about this before. But it seems that in these days of isolation and boredom, where people are itching for titillation and entertainment, it could use a refresher course.

This isn’t exactly CHoS material, which is why I’m keeping it separate. But it’s equally annoying. I like a fantasy scenario as much as the next spanko. I’ve read many and I’ve written quite a few. BUT. When you write and publish a spanking story, whether it be in a book or on a blog or wherever, you leave people the choice whether or not to read it. Generally, people pick and choose what they read according to what particulars float their boat. Sounds about right, no?

Until you get the guys (and yes, in my case, it’s always guys) who don’t know you, who have never corresponded with you (let alone played with you), who just feel like getting their rocks off by directly presenting their fantasy to you under the guise of “Hey, I wrote this just for you,” when you know damn well they probably dashed it off to a hundred women just to see who took the bait.

And, lucky me, these scenarios are almost always cringe-worthy on every level.

Here’s an example I received recently on FetLife. I had never had any contact with this man, other than a brief exchange of “hellos” on the site, but then he presented me with the following, completely unsolicited.

I am a huge role play, daddy daughter top too. If I may beg your indulgence (and I know you’ve probably played the little girl in your videos a lot and maybe even this same exact scenario) … So, my favorite scenario is scolding the lady for her indiscretions before the spanking (make her feel like a little naughty girl) and telling her that she needs and deserves a good ole fashion OTK bare bottom spanking. Telling her that’s long over due and much deserved, etc. I would then tell her to go upstairs to our room and prepare for her spanking (she would know the drill; all her clothes off, but her panties) and wait for me in the corner sitting on the ‘spanking chair.’ I would make her wait for 10 or 15 minutes before entering our room to give her the scolding and OTK. I would then enter the room and say, ‘it’s spanking time, young lady and you’re going to get a good one.” And, ”you won’t be sitting comfortably for quite a while after I am done with you, young lady.” I would ask her does she know why she’s getting spanking and ask her what happens to naughty girls under my roof, etc. And, then scold her some more before putting her over my knee and pulling her panties down and spanking her bottom rosy red as she bawls loudly (hopefully; if not, she may want the brush). When done, I would tell her to go back to her corner with her panties still down and lecture her on why she got the spanking, and that next time it will be harder and longer, etc. I then would come back in the room and comfort her. PS: The ‘spanking chair’ will always be in the corner of our room so she would be reminded each and every time she see’s it of what the consequences will be if she misbehaves again. What do you think? What would you add here in this scenario? I am just curious coming from a professional spanko bottom as you. I really respect and cheris your sage knowledge of the spanking kink!

Good lord. Pass me the barf bag.

So what’s the problem? I mean, besides the fact that it is horribly written and crammed with cheesy, clichéd corn? Well… in the very beginning, he says he knows I have probably often played the little girl in my videos. In what universe? Anyone who has known me, or known of me, for more than five minutes in the scene knows that I have never played a little girl, that I am not a little in private, that I’ve never participated in a scene like this in all my 24 years in the spanking scene. It. Is. Not. My. Thing. When you have a specific kink such as age play, know who you’re writing to before you dash off an elaborate scenario such as this. (And FFS, try proofreading it first.)

In case you’re wondering, since he did ask for feedback, I answered briefly.

“Never once have I played a little girl. I am not into the DD/lg dynamic in the least.
Know your audience.”

He didn’t answer. Buh-bye. I checked him out on FetLife again after a couple of weeks and saw that he was posting overly personal and cheesy comments all over the freaking place on many women’s pictures. (sigh) Some people just don’t learn.

And while I’m on the subject of clichés… Look, y’all. I like a well placed “young lady” or “you won’t sit down for a week” or what have you as much as the next bottom. But notice I said “well placed.” Some tops know when the time is right for these phrases, when they are hottest, when they are effective. Others spew them like rote Spanking 101 phrases, almost like there’s a checklist they have to tick off. Hint: Less is more. Subtlety and timing are key.

Okay, Erica, I hear people thinking. Since you’re such an expert, give us an example of well placed, what you consider hot.

All right.

End of last year, I met a man for coffee. We stood in line, ordered, and then I went to reach for my wallet. I always offer to pay my share; I never assume.

Now, he could have said: “Young lady, you even think about touching that wallet and I’ll take you outside to the car, bare your little bottom and give you a spanking you’ll never forget.” Oooh, yeah, that would tick off about four of those check boxes.

He didn’t. Because he knew that would have been a bit much right out of the gate.

Instead, he didn’t even look up from his own wallet, but very quietly said, “That stops right now.”

My hand, poised over my wallet, froze. And with those four words, so subtly delivered, I needed a change of underwear.

Spanko talk is a lot like humor. If you’re too heavy-handed with it (if you’ll pardon the expression), it does the opposite of what it’s meant to do.

And that concludes today’s installment of Erica’s Helpful Hints. By the way, if I sound grumpy, it’s because I fucking well am. Back to work with me. Hope everyone is staying safe and well.


Vote for me?

So yesterday, as I was trundling along on the treadmill, my mind wandered as it is wont to do, and I had what I consider a brilliant brainchild.

Consider the following:

  • I am one kinky, nasty woman;
  • I speak my mind often and tell it like it is, even though some people would prefer that I STFU;
  • I know zippity squat about how to run a country, but clearly, that doesn’t matter; and
  • I tweet a whole lot (going on 20K now)

I should run for president in 2020!! Not just the first woman, but the first kinky president! Hey, if we can have a PeePee President, why not a Spanko President?


Imagine the possibilities for slogans!

  • Embrace your inner safe, sane and consensual sadomasochist, America! Spanking pain is temporary; nuclear vaporization is forever!
  • Healthcare that everyone can count on, permanently — no one will piss it away!
  • Erica Scott’s promises are as solid as a frat paddle — with no (loop)holes!
  • Erica Scott will stand with you — since she can’t sit!
  • You can’t have America without Erica!
  • Red is the New Orange!
  • Erica Scott: Make America Black & Blue Again! #MABBA


Of course, John would be the First… what? We’re not married, so already, I’m breaking tradition. But so what? We’ve been together for over 20 years; that’s longer than a lot of marriages. (Just ask the upcoming Commander in Cheat.) So, I guess John could be First Switch, Top of your Bottom in Chief. And then there’s my cabinet — oh, so many boxer briefs and panties to fill. But I think I’d start with Paul Kennedy as Spanker of the House, and make Alex Reynolds Secretary of the Posterior. Perhaps Michael Masterson should head up the Lap of Justice Department.

My White House pet would be a giant white dog (she’d have to be white, so I could name her — what else? — Snowflake, and any breed would work except sheepdog). I would train my faithful companion to always hide (or bury) wooden implements. She’d never bite anyone, but she’d growl menacingly whenever she sees someone anything orange.

One of my first acts would be to declare the non-consensual grabbing of pussies to be a capital offense. (Just to be clear, I’m talking about real non-consent, not our type of “oh, please don’t… don’t… don’t stop” consensual non-consent.) And ladies? From now on, no one will be able to get up into your business — unless you want them to, of course!

Tolerant, respectful people — of all nationalities and colors, all religions (or none), all genders (whether born or chosen), all orientations, all sizes and shapes, all ages and income levels — will be treated in turn with tolerance and respect. Those of us who choose not to follow the tried and true societal dictates will not be shamed, but welcomed. None of this bullying/prejudice/discrimination shit on my watch! This is America, not AmeriKKKa. (And yes, your leader will be spanked often for her shameless word play.)

I would redesign the Oval Office, of course. My office would need corners. All staffers would be armed with guns — squirt guns. And corporal punishment would replace capital punishment (but only for vanilla offenders, since kinky offenders would like it way too damn much).

What do you think, readers? Can you add any ideas? Would you vote for me? Come on, I couldn’t possibly be any worse than what’s coming. You’ve got nothing to lose but your inhibitions — and possibly your underwear. 😀

Well, is it?

Two weeks ago, I had an appointment with my chiropractor, but when I showed up, his colleague said he’d already left. Well! It turned out he’d had an emergency with his dog, and he apologized profusely, saying it was not like him to forget an appointment and the next one would be on him.

So I showed up last week, he apologized again, took some extra time torturing me, and then said afterward, “Don’t you dare try to give me any money.”

Is it incredibly perverse of me that my stomach lurched and I had a strong desire to answer,

“Really? What if I do?”

The last time I had this type of fascination with a professional who inflicts therapeutic pain was my personal trainer, many years ago. Stay tuned.


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