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 “Las Vegas”

Oasis party in Vegas, 2022

I think I’m finally ready to attempt writing this. Sorry for the long delay! I hope I haven’t forgotten anything important in all the craziness of work and COVID that ensued after I came home. But better late than never. Settle in. Get a refreshing beverage. This is long.

It was a great party, I had fun, and I have zero regrets. COVID be damned. I needed to do this, and I’m glad I did. But of course, I’m also glad we chose to leave John out of this one. I would have been beside myself had he caught this. Me? I’ll live. He might not have.

Of course, it was a strange weekend without him. I missed him a lot. I had a lot of different moods throughout the three days there, and spent more time by myself than I normally would have. But I had prepared myself for this well in advance and was determined to go forward with it, with all the confidence I could muster. I tried to replace my nervousness with a calm curiosity — what would it be like? New party, new hotel, a lot of new people, flying for the first time rather than driving. I wanted to be open to the new experiences and feelings. And also… be prepared in case it simply was no longer the same. That was a very real possibility. Things are different. I’m different. It’s been a long time. But I’d never know unless I tried.

Friday: I woke up at 5:00 a.m. showered, washed my hair, blew it out, drank coffee, and finished packing. My flight was at 9:00, but I wanted to get to the airport two hours early, so I was on the road by 6:15. That felt weird — it was still dark out, and the roads were nearly empty. I made it to Burbank in plenty of time, found the Economy parking lot, and shuttled to the Southwest entry, where I checked one of my bags. I hadn’t flown since 2019, but the whole rigmarole came back to me and it passed without incident. I found my gate and then bought a bottle of water ($6 and change? Are you @#$%ing kidding me??), and settled in to charge my phone and people watch. A couple nearby had brought their dog! You know me and dogs… of course, I had to go over there and ask if it was okay to say hello. They were very nice, and I hunkered down to pet a very sweet, mellow dog with the softest coat (a Jindo, which is a Korean breed).

Flight was brief, which was merciful, since I could only find a middle seat and it was tightly packed. Plus, the young woman on my right kept falling asleep and laying her head on my shoulder. (Actually, that was kind of sweet. I tried hard to keep still and not disturb her. At least she was wearing a mask!)

I’ve never been to Las Vegas Airport. Holy crap, what a zoo! It was hot as hell, my bags were heavy, and I couldn’t find the Uber area to save my life. I ended up in the shuttle/taxi area, but then they told me I was in the wrong place and I needed to backtrack and go in another direction. (groan) When I found the Uber/Lyft area, it was mobbed with people, but I called for my Uber and they were able to find me. Thank goodness it took only about ten minutes, because I was dying of the heat. The driver was very sweet, helped load my stuff, and I collapsed into the back seat. “Do you need anything?” he asked. “Just air conditioning,” I gasped.

We arrived at the Tuscany Suites in ten minutes, and I went in. It was only 11:30 and check-in time was 3:00, but I had called beforehand to ask if I could have early check-in and they said it shouldn’t be a problem. After I got checked in, they directed me to my building. This was a very neat hotel, made up of separate, lettered buildings they called villas. Our party had three villas — C, F and G. The party suites were in building G, and my room was in C. Huffing and puffing, I managed to shlep my increasingly heavy bags to the building and to my room. Damn, did John spoil me — he never, ever let me help with the bags. I was lucky if I got to carry my own purse.

And of course, because I am a dork, I couldn’t figure out how to open the hotel room door. I had a card, but where was the key card slot you slide it into? (To be fair, there were key card slots in 2020, when I last attended a party.) I finally had to ask a maid, and she showed me where you tap the card. Oh. Duh. Finally straggled into my suite and closed the door, put the stuff down and turned around… and here’s the first thing I saw.

Wait… what? At first my addled brain thought they came with the room, but then I realized of course they didn’t. Somehow, John had arranged for me to arrive to these. Damn, I love that man. ♥ ♥ ♥ I texted him immediately, fighting tears, and thanked him. He, of course, denied doing it. (“Was there a card?” “No.” “Then how did you know it’s me?” “Because you never provide a card!”)

I then took stock of the room. In this hotel, all the rooms are suites, so this was much bigger than we were used to. It had a little living room area, a dinette and kitchenette along with two beds and the typical bathroom area. One thing I did notice right away — despite the wall unit AC blasting away, the room was warm. Uh oh. What was up with that? I did some scoping around, and figured out the problem. First, the AC temp was set too high. Second, it was on low instead of high. And third, there were two large windows in the room with blackout shades, but the shades were wide open and allowing the Vegas sun to bake the room. So I made all the necessary adjustments, and unpacked. (Yes, I unpack in a hotel room.) By the time I was done, it was around 1:00, and the ice-breaker/registration event I wanted to attend wasn’t until 4:00. So I figured, perfect time for a nap, right? Nope. Yeah, I was tired, but I was also keyed up and excited and overheated, and I just couldn’t come down enough to fall asleep. Oh well. Onward.

I found the room where they were having some ice-breaker games and registration, got my badge (which would be worn the rest of the weekend), and found a few familiar faces. Let the hugs begin! The party had actually been going since Thursday, but a lot of people came on Friday like me. I had heard there would be hors d’oeuvres, which there were, but I didn’t realize there would be a cash bar, and I didn’t bring my purse. I needed water, and a very lovely person offered to buy me a bottle. Thank you! ♥ Did some mingling, and enjoyed watching the ice-breakers — a spanking version of Musical Chairs, and then a truly demented scavenger hunt where we all got into teams and were asked to come up with the craziest things (your best drawing rendition of the Last Supper? Three different colored socks tied together end to end??). My team came in dead last — boooooo! But we gave it our best try.

This gathering was over a little after six, and the party suites would be open at eight, so I decided to go back to my room to chill out a bit. They had asked for volunteers to help during the party, and one of the requests was taking shifts as door guards, making sure only those of our party came in. (The security at this event was amazing! They were so thorough — there was no chance of party-crashers.) I had signed up to do the 9:00-10:00 shift, in front of the elevator. I figured it would be the perfect way to get to see everyone.

I changed my clothes, put on makeup, and headed to the G suites. The entire G building was ours and ours alone, so we could make all the noise we wanted. They had two party suites directly across the hall from one another, and so the guests meandered back and forth (and also hung out in the hallway when the rooms got too crowded).

What can I tell you about the first day/night? You already know it — greetings, greetings, and more greetings! A million hugs! Oh, that felt so good. There were faces I didn’t recognize, but also plenty of the ones I knew, and it was so good to see everyone again. I grabbed a spot on one of the couches while I could, and just observed things for a while until I had to go take my guard post. Each of the two rooms had bins filled with ice and water/drinks, plus other bins of snacks. All were portion controlled, individual packages, which made it a lot healthier than having communal dishes of candy and what have you. I think (?) they had beers, but the huge spread of all kinds of liquor was no longer. Which is for the best, I believe.

Anyway, I ended up next to a man who looked familiar — that happens a lot at these weekends — but I don’t recall meeting before. His name was Matt; he seemed to know me, and chatted with me a bit. He asked if I’d played yet, I said no, and then mentioned that I was due to do a guard shift in about fifteen minutes. “Well,” he said, “would you like a warm-up scene, first of the weekend?” He seemed nice — why not? I almost never do my first and last scenes with people I don’t know, but what the hell, I was doing everything differently this time. He took me into one of the bedroom and gave me a lovely hand spanking. And what was I thinking the whole time? (“Why have I not played with this man before??”) He was awesome! Perfect technique, and not super hard, which was just what I needed at the outset of things. Great start!

Then I was off to sit by the elevator. I was joined by JC, who was one of the security people for this party, and he and I chatted and caught up. I was right; sitting there was the perfect place to see everyone as they came and went. The halls were clamorous, with rambunctious bottoms striding up and down, singing 90s songs (Friday night was “90s night,” although I didn’t dress for it because I had no clue what to wear) and announcing that they could do whatever the hell they wanted. I got to greet lots of people, everyone who came by had their badge, and I enjoyed my shift, even when it extended past an hour because no one showed up to relieve us! JC went to find out what had happened, and it turned out that the shift change person was at the elevator downstairs! Oh well… no problem. I had been approached by a gentleman named Andy, with whom I’d played at the party in 2020 and enjoyed thoroughly. He asked when I would be sprung from my post, and he had that evil glint in his eye — what could he have in mind…

When I went back to the rooms and freshened up, he was waiting for me, and we went into one of the bedrooms to play. Oh, that was fun. He was playing with my skirt, slightly lifting it, yanking it back down, inching it up again, then down again… I said, “You know, you can lift that, it’s okay!” I mean, really, being spanked over clothes is so tedious. He just kept on teasing and I finally blurted, “Just lift the damn thing already!” (Oh, Erica, you’re so demure and ladylike.) And he did. A wonderful spanking ensued, and then, after he smoothed everything back in place, just like he’d done the last time, he swooped me up in his arms and twirled me around and around. I love that!

That was it for my play on Friday night, just two scenes. I was a little disappointed at the slow start, but figured I had to be patient. The weekend had just begun. Also, even though I knew the party was going to go long into the night, the long day finally crashed in on me and I started fading around 12:30. The FOMO part of me said, “Noooo, it’s too early, you can’t go, you’ll miss stuff!” But the reasonable adult part said, “There are two more days and nights. You’re exhausted. If you push to stay up later, you’ll just feel lousy.” So, I picked myself up and left, meandering back to my room. I think it was somewhere between 12:30-1:00 a.m. when I went to bed.

Saturday: Before I get into that, I should do a brief review of the strange nether region I found myself in at this party. I mean, for years, I knew where I stood at these things. People knew me. Or they knew of me. I had a solid group of regulars to hang with. I knew the drill of the events. I knew the hotel. Blah blah blah.

Now… all new territory. I was by myself. The venue and events were unfamiliar. And as for the group, that was a mix. A percentage of the people knew me. Another percentage knew of me. And yet another percentage knew neither — I was a stranger. And the weird part was that I didn’t know how those percentages fell. So every single time I walked into a room this weekend, I didn’t really know where I stood. And — I can’t keep emphasizing this enough — I didn’t have John to fall back on.

I suppose there are some thinking, “What’s the BFD?” That’s okay. I know I’m sounding a bit melodramatic. But those who know me, and know these parties, get it. It was weird. Not bad, not good, just… different and strange.

Anyway… I slept in on Saturday. This party had a lot of events scheduled all throughout the days. However, many of them were based on role play, age play, or both, and while those are hugely popular, that’s not a good fit for me. One event was for POC — I didn’t qualify for that. Another was FF — nope. So you get the picture. I didn’t attend too many things, so I had a lot of free time on my hands.

After showering and dressing, I realized that the day before, I hadn’t had a single proper meal. All I did was graze all day on snacks I brought to my room (peanuts, grapes, pretzels) a couple of hors d’oeuvres, and a Nutri-Grain bar in the party suite. I needed fuel. But… I didn’t have anyone to go to lunch with.

So what, Erica? You want lunch? Go take yourself to lunch.

The hotel had a very nice diner called Marilyn’s Café, and I meandered over there, getting a table by myself in the corner. There I sat, catching up with everything on my phone and enjoying a healthy breakfast. I’m not usually one to take pictures of my food, but I thought my breakfast was unusually picturesque. Egg white omelet with veggies, fruit cup, multi-grain toast with jam, and really good coffee. Great service, too!

Almost forgot — before lunch, I ran into M in the hallway. I had discovered a blister forming on my toe, which I didn’t want to get worse, so I had called the hotel to see if they had Band-Aids. They did not. But when I found M and mentioned needing a Band-Aid, she said she had some, so we went back to her room to get one for me. And then of course I realized I hadn’t put my badge on, so we traipsed back to my room to get it! (There was a lot of walking this weekend. Which is fine by me, since that’s the only working out I did.) Then I went with her to the gift shop so she could buy a bottle of water, and we parted company.

There was a vendor fair starting at 3:00 in the suites, so I went back to my room after I ate and got ready to attend that. Upon leaving my room, I saw Madame Samantha lingering in the hallway. She was waiting for assistance, having locked herself out of her room. I ended up hanging out with her until she was let in, and then went into her room and we spent the next hour chatting and catching up. She then headed to shoot with Sarah Gregory, and I headed down to the vendor fair. That was pretty low-key. But the main event of the day was ahead. On my way back to my room, I ran into my friends K and Adalia from Jillian’s Discord group in the lobby — they had come on a one-day pass so they could attend the Saturday night festivities. Enthusiastic hugs ensued.

The return of the ballroom dinner/dance! Dressing up! The Vegas parties had not done this for many years, so it was like a throwback to another time. They had a very cool backdrop set up so people could take pictures, and we were all encouraged to dress our finest. Soooo… I pulled out a dress I had buried in my closet, one I’d only worn once, and that was to a BDSM dungeon event. Over the top? You bet. Perfect for this? Yup. When it was time, I got dressed, put on full makeup, primped and fussed with my hair, and then I was ready to go. First, of course, I took a selfie for John, so he could be the first to see me.

Yes, it was covered with sequins. And you can’t see it, but it had a tie-up, corset-style back. How did I get myself into it without someone to tie it for me? It wasn’t easy. I had pre-tied it perfectly before putting it on, and then I just struggled into it. When there’s a will, there’s a way.

I made my way to the main building and then upstairs to our ballroom — gorgeous! People were milling around inside and in the hallway, and I greeted several friends. We all looked so good! Men in suits, women in gorgeous dresses — festive and fun! Here’s a shot with three friends — Jada on the left OKed showing her face, while M and S preferred to remain anonymous. Aren’t we spiffy?

There was a lot of oohing and aahing over each other’s outfits, and pretty soon, people were lining up to take pictures in front of the backdrop. My friend K was in a stunning, off the shoulder white sequined dress, and with me in a black sequined dress, I just had to get a shot with her. Can’t show her pretty face, but trust me, she is such a cutie! ♥

I also took a picture with one of my favorite tops, who I’ve mentioned in several party blogs — Roy. Soooo good to see him again! But he said, “Don’t put this on the internet,” and I must respect that. More on him later.

I wandered about a little, saying hello to people and exclaiming over their clothes. The stunning Snow Mercy was there — with her dog! A poodle puppy. Of course I had to pet her, and she chewed on my hand and gave me kisses. I saw Sarah G and her new hubby John Osborne — we talked briefly, and she said something unexpected that touched me. If I ever changed my mind about shooting again, they’d have me back in a heartbeat — she said no one plays the bratty wife quite like me. Damn. I’m not going to take her up on it — there is no going back — but that was sweet to hear. ♥ John took a picture of Sarah and me — she was in purple sequins — but I haven’t gotten that.

We chose our tables/seats and sat, watching people mill about the backdrop, greeting one another. I sat between Jada and TallAndStrict (AKA the artist formerly known as Ralph Marvell). I should mention that we hadn’t seen Jada in many years and it was such a treat catching up with her and hanging out. We first met her in 2009. Some things never change — these parties are such a whirlwind of faces, past and present, and they all come at you so quickly. I hope I’m remembering everyone.

The buffet dinner was very nice, with something for everyone, including vegetarian and healthy choices. And for dessert, they had an assortment of mini-pastries, all kinds of goodies, each one about two-three bites (yours truly took three of them, thank you very much). There was a cash bar, but I just drank water. I usually like to have a glass of champagne at some point at these parties, but I eschewed that this weekend, being alone. John always watches out for me when I get a little tipsy.

And speaking of John… in the spirit of honest reporting, the bad with the good, I had my first droppy moment after dinner. The music and dancing started, and people filled the dance floor. Not everyone went up there — in fact, it was the same small group of people who danced nearly every dance. Because the music was nearly all the same style. In the past, the dance selections have been a mix, with current blending with classics for those of us of the AARP persuasion. Not so this time. So I sat at the table, thinking okay, I’ll just talk with people, but it was too loud with the music to hear yourself talk. At that moment, I missed John fiercely. I wanted him there with me. And I could feel my mood plunging.

Okay, Erica. What now? You could stay here and be miserable, hoping for a different outcome, or you can exit, go back to your room, and get ready for the party suites. What’s it going to be?

I chose to leave. It was getting near the end of the ballroom time anyway. I’d made my appearances, had my dinner, gotten my pictures. Time to keep moving on. And to get some play in already!

I changed into a more casual dress, traded in my pumps for flat sandals, and went to the party suites, which were hopping. The night is a blur now, but I know I played three more times. The first time was with T&S, who I have not played with in many years. We had some fun reminiscing about when we first met, and how he’d autographed my butt with a Sharpie. I said I should have never washed my butt again, which cracked up the entire room around us. After that, I watched a beautiful double-team scene with Zoey on a massage table (they had a couple of tables set up in each suite, for flogging/caning/strapping scenes), and when I complimented John O. afterwards, he said, “Wanna be next? Hop up.” Sure! Hadn’t played with him for a long time either. It was a fun, floaty scene, lots of different implements and sensations, finishing with some caning (not hard, though — more sensual, which was perfect). Yum!

And then there was Roy. I was chatting away with a few people when I saw him come in. He caught my eye and winked at me, but didn’t approach yet. But I knew he would. Sure enough, soon, he walked behind me, brushing my shoulder on the way, peeked into one of the bedrooms, then gestured for me to follow him in there. “Excuse me,” I cheerfully told my friends as I exited the conversation.

As always, he was worth the wait. So good. Not a complicated scene, just a good long OTK hand spanking, but our chemistry is amazing. He could have gone on for hours and I wouldn’t have complained. Every time I thought the scene was winding down, he’d say, “Few more?” I’d say “Yes, please,” and it would continue. It was interspersed with caresses and snippets of conversation, easy, comfortable. I love love LOVE when a scene comes together so perfectly.

Sadly, I didn’t get to play with him again. The poor guy woke up the next day feeling sick to his stomach and he took an early flight home. (No, it wasn’t COVID; I checked on him later.) Maybe he had a touch of food poisoning. But at least we had one wonderful scene.

After that, I figured that was my high note for the night, so I didn’t play anymore. I did stay in the suites for a while longer, though. Piper plopped down on the couch next to me at some point and we had a bit of catch-up talk — she and JC are two of my favorite people. But then she was unceremoniously hauled away by Mistress Josephine for a caning, which she bratted all the way through. It was hilarious.

And there it was, that moment where you realize you’re tired AF, you’re running on fumes, but you don’t want to leave because you’re having fun and you might miss something. That hit me about 2:30 a.m., sitting around with a group of friends who all looked as exhausted as I was, but no one was making a move to leave. (“Lightweight! Sleep is overrated! The party is still going!”) But. I couldn’t sleep super late, because there was Strict Dave’s Spanking Court the next morning. I still had one more full day. So once again, Adult Erica took charge, and I bid everyone goodnight.

damn, this is long…

Sunday: After finally getting to sleep at nearly 4:00 a.m., the alarm the next morning was particularly rude. But Dave’s Court is a no-miss, a party staple. So I straggled out of bed, showered and dressed, and went to the hotel coffee shop for some caffeine fortification. Unfortunately, everyone else had the same idea, and the line was long. (groan) So I stood there, semi-comatose, and waited my turn, finally getting some coffee and making my way to the room where Court was taking place. I needn’t have worried about being late, though — there was a hiccup, a missing power cord. One of the party organizers had to hunt one down, which took a while, and we started 40 minutes late. But of course, it was well worth the wait. The usual assortment of funny, bizarre cases, and Dave was his brilliant, dry-witted self.

In the past, I have often been taken to Court for various bratty things, and always had fun pleading my case. This year, I was not. I didn’t expect to be, of course, but it still felt a little sad. It was also kind of sad to me to realize that, watching all the cases ensue, I did not know most of the participants. Ch-ch-changes…

After Court ended, the strange feelings remained. Once again, I felt at a loss for what to do next. Usually, this would be the time John and I went to a late lunch with our friend M or whoever else happened to be going. I tried mingling a bit, but it seemed that every conversation I tried to enter fell flat. No matter what I did, this was how I felt at the moment.

(Perfect image, no?)

I had one interesting encounter — the day before, a very nice man had approached me, looked at me quizzically, and said, “You’re kinda famous, aren’t you?” I laughed and made the “so-so” gesture with my hand. I guess he figured it out, because then he came up with me with a couple of young women in tow and enthusiastically introduced them to me, saying I was a “famous spanking model” and that I had been “immortalized” in caricature. He then pulled up a picture on his phone to show them — aaaaand there I was, in all my Dave Wolfe glory, from one of his birthday toons for me:

That was flattering… but also kind of awkward. I mean, that picture is fourteen years old. Shortly after that, someone accidentally bumped me and splashed a cup of water down the front of my sundress. (No biggie; it was only water.) And as I looked around, figuring that was my cue to leave, I didn’t see anyone I knew — people had dispersed. And I really, really didn’t want to go to lunch alone once again.

It seems every party has a moment of emotional meltdown. This was mine. All the insecurities, missing John, feeling old, wondering where I fit in, etc., etc., ad nauseam came rolling in waves… and I went back to my room and cried. Here it was Sunday afternoon and I’d only played five times, didn’t have a mark on me — that was unheard of. I texted John, saying it was a good party, but I was lonely and missed him and was struggling at the moment. At least I didn’t lose it in front of anyone. He texted back and then I settled down a bit.

Okay, Erica. Two things left — the afternoon pool party, and the Sunday night party blowout. You can sit in the room and feel sorry for yourself, or you can take a few deep breaths, shake it off, rest, and then get ready for the pool.

I had some snacks, then briefly napped. The pool party was from 4:00 to 7:00, so that was a nice break time and one in which I pulled myself together and was determined to make the most of what was left. In yet another burst of courage, I donned a bikini that I haven’t worn in twenty years, put my sundress over it, and went to the lap pool, which had been reserved just for our party.

Well. Things turned around after that. That pool party was so. Much. Fun. Of course, since it was an outdoor pool on hotel grounds, we couldn’t play. But we could make all the noise we wanted, be silly, say whatever wanted without being overheard. I’m not sure how many of us ended up at this gathering, but we all splashed around, playing water volleyball and riding around on inflatable pool toys. It was about 110 degrees, and the pool water felt exquisite.

And speaking of pool toys, our good friend IMLX had brought what is apparently the mascot of the Seattle spanking group — Sea Chad, the Wonder Whale. Sea Chad is gender fluid and has their own account on FetLife. I got to ride SC twice, once by myself, and once with two other women behind me on SC’s back. I do have a picture of that, but the other women in the picture wished not to be publicized, and they look so damn cute that I didn’t want to blur their faces, so I think I’ll just keep that private. But here’s a shot of me on a pink flamingo, with Sea Chad photo-bombing behind me. (Photo by IMLX)

Side note about Sea Chad: When I was riding SC, IMLX was pushing me around the pool, and he was going to back me up to get me away from the volleyball players. As he did so, he bellowed, “Backing up the whale!” To which I yelled, “Hey! I resent that!” (Yup, he’s never going to live that one down…)

I wandered about in the water, striking up conversations, and had several very nice ones. Saw one of the veteran members, Amy, and we had a sweet chat, sharing memories of Tony Elka. Got to catch up with my video hubby Stephen Lewis a bit. I also introduced myself to one of the party organizers (FetLife name Melville) and we had a great talk. She told me all about how this venue came to be, and how instrumental Eve Howard had been in helping them snag it. After we were banned from the Suncoast (and I still don’t know exactly why), finding a new, kink-friendly venue was a challenge. So this was a huge coup, and they worked hard for it, this new Oasis team. Kudos to them. I told her how impressed I was with how well organized everything was, and she was grateful to hear that.

I stayed in the pool until 6:45 and my fingers looked like prunes. Got out, dried off, put my sundress and shoes back on, and made my way back to my room. There had been hot dogs and grilled cheese sandwiches from Shake Shack provided at the pool, but I had passed on that. So once again, I didn’t eat a proper meal on Sunday. But it was okay. I had KIND bars and peanuts for protein, grapes for energy, and chocolate, so I had all the important food groups.

Here’s a bit of weirdness: right before the party, I had a fresh pedicure. (My polish was called Lucky Red; perfect for Vegas!) I went into that pool with ten perfect toenails. Nearly three hours later, I looked down and saw that the polish on two of my nails was completely gone. Not chipped — I mean gone. WTF? Did the chlorine eat off my polish? That’s a little scary. And so much for keeping the pedicure nice for a while! *grumble*

I showered and washed my hair, got into a casual Sunday night outfit, and headed for the final party later that evening. I had decided I was going to play through, and not go to bed. I needed to call for an Uber around 4:00 a.m., and there was no point in trying to get a couple of hours’ sleep. I’d just stay up until it was time to leave, go pack and check out, and go straight to the airport and home. I could sleep once I got there. That decided, I stopped by the gift shop on my way there for a 20-oz. bottle of Diet Coke, for the caffeine.

I’d made another decision. Throughout the weekend, I’d felt off and uncomfortable because I wasn’t getting a lot of requests to play. There were a lot of handsome young men, new to me, who I would have loved to play with, but there was no way I was going to ask them. And a lot of my old favorite familiars weren’t there. But by Sunday night, I thought, screw it. You want to play? Ask, dammit. The men are as intimidated as you are, especially in the party climate now, post #MeToo and the huge and devastating uproar that blew through our scene last year.

With that in mind, I found a comfy couch spot in one of the suites and struck up a chat with the man sitting next to me (FetLife name: Joker10). He was not new, but hadn’t been to the parties for a while. I had watched him doing a Florentine flogging the night before and was impressed with his technique. He was a lot of fun to talk with and we covered a lot of topics. He asked me if I liked flogging, and I said yes, very much, but it’s hard to find people who can do it well. He said he would be getting his toy bag later, and I thought, there you go, Erica. There’s your Sunday night end-the-party flogging. Lovely. I told him I’d see him later, and he said, “Okay. Behave yourself.” To which I said, “What for??” I mean, really? Was there any other answer?

IMLX and I had been chatting on and off all weekend and he made a point of telling me, “Find me on Sunday night so we can play!” He knows how distracted he gets and he didn’t want the opportunity to pass. So when I was sitting and chatting with Jada, I saw him come in, and beckoned him over. “So are we going to play, or what?” He assured me that we were, but first, he was being called upon to take a picture of someone’s scene, and then he was all mine! Okay… I waited for that, and then he approached once again, rambling about how busy he’d been and how time had gotten away from him as usual and so on and on… “Yeah, yeah, blah blah blah, let’s go!” I interrupted. (You have to understand my relationship with IMLX — it’s much the same as a lot of the other bottoms. He is a great guy, a great player, and one hell of a great sport, because we all give him shit like you wouldn’t believe. But he knows we love him.) T&S overheard that, burst out laughing and said, “You never change, do you!” “NO!” I hurled back on my way into the bedroom.

Oh, damn, that was such a fun scene. It’s been a long time since the two of us played, and I have to say, his hand is wayyyyyy stronger! Years ago, we played at Boardwalk Badness and I very slightly assed his hand. (You’d think it was blistered and bleeding beyond recognition, the way the poor dear was carrying on.) No such occurrence now! But of course, variety is the spice of scenes, so he took off his belt too. Delicious. Wonderful long scene, loud and exuberant and filled with laughs. I felt that unmitigated joy once again. There is nothing like it.

After that, I wandered about the suites, had a bit more chit-chat, and then saw Paul Kennedy. You all know how much I love playing with Paul. I don’t know why I was being so reticent, waiting for him to ask — probably because he usually does. He has a way of just coming up to me in a crowded room and spiriting me away with a beckoning finger. However, when that didn’t happen, I thought, well, you wanna wait passively and see if it does, or do you wanna be proactive? Since the theme of the weekend was the latter, I asked him. And of course, he said yes, no hesitation. *beaming*

We chose a bedroom, I took down my cropped jeans, and settled in for a long OTK hand spanking. He built me up slowly, lighter at first, then adding in flurries of fast and hard, going down onto the upper thighs as well. After a nice long while of that, I heard him murmuring to me to get up, so I pushed myself up, and saw that he had laid out pillows on the bed for me to lie on. Then he showed me a wicked-looking two-tongue tawse. Gulp.

Without preamble, he calmly asked me a simple question: “Do you want marks?” I didn’t have to think about it. My answer was: “From you? Yes.”

Oh my. Ow ow ow. That thing really had a fierce bite. Especially on my thighs. I called forth all my fortitude for the last set of strokes, delivered evenly, measured, perfect. As Paul always is. ♥

Another side note, speaking of Paul: Have I mentioned how freaking adorable Alex Reynolds looked every time I saw her? I haven’t? Well, she did. It seems she is living her very best life these days, happily married and in love, a loving stepmom, a beautiful new home (filled with cats!), all the good things. It made me happy to see. It brought back memories of being at their wedding, which had been a complete joy for both John and me.

And finallyyyyyyy (Jesus, it’s about time, Erica) — I floated out of the bedroom, where I saw Joker10 wrapping up a flogging scene, so I plunked myself down on the carpet nearby and waited my turn. I didn’t have to wait long. After stripping down to my underwear, I laid on the massage table. He took one look and said, “Wow, you’ve been a bad girl.” Why, yes, yes I have! He asked some questions about limits, and showed me a pair of gloves with long silver claws at each finger, asked if some sensual play was okay with those. You know, I don’t usually like sharp things. They scare me. But there was something about this guy that made me instantly trust him. I can’t explain it; it’s just one of those things that happens, and I went with it. So I said yes.

WOWWWWW. My instincts did not fail me. J10 was wonderful with the floggers, and then, he ran the claws carefully over me — up and down my back, into my hair, down my legs, and yes, on my tender butt. It felt shivery and sensual and a little tickle-y and a lot very good. Perfect, perfect end-of-party scene. “What planet are you on?” he asked as he wrapped it up. “Mars,” I mumbled. He brought me a piece of chocolate for my blood sugar, and I took my time savoring it before I finally got up and put my clothes back on.

But wait, there’s more. (Whaaat? Oh, FFS… Sorry, readers. Just a little longer.)

Throughout the evening, I’d been running into Piper, who said that JC wanted to play with me (to which I said most emphatically yes), but he was working security and we kept missing one another. Now it was quarter to three and I was walking around saying my goodbyes. JC thought I was just saying goodnight — he didn’t know I was leaving for the airport. “Can we do a quick scene before you go to bed?” he asked. I said I wasn’t going to bed, this was it, I was on my way to the airport after I packed. “Oh, then we have to do a quick scene! I won’t make you late!” Sure. Let’s do it.

What a great little scene — did I mention I really love JC and Piper? He then announced, “I’m making this quick because I know your time is limited and you have to get going, so I don’t want to read anything on your blog about how JC sucks, that I end scenes too early!” I laughed… yeah, like I’d ever say that. You reading this, JC? You rock!

And then that was it, the final round of goodbyes. Went back to my room, where I had already piled everything up neatly, ready to throw into my bags. But of course, I had to get a selfie of my butt first! I mean, I hadn’t gotten any butt shots all weekend, and it’s not a spanking party without that.

Nine scenes in three days. Not as much as usual. But then again, I don’t know if I could have taken a whole lot more. And they were all good scenes. I’m not complaining.

Had to leave the flowers, sadly. Checked out, and then sat outside at 4:00 a.m., the air hot and thick and muggy, and called my Uber. They dropped me right off at the Southwest entrance, I checked my bag, did the TSA check-in, and went to my gate. What did I see right in front of it? A 24-hour Einstein’s Bagels kiosk. At that moment, at that ungodly hour, not having eaten and existing on fumes, nothing sounded more exquisite than a toasted cinnamon raisin bagel with jam and a cup of hot coffee. So I waited in line, bought my treat, then sat down, plugged in my phone, and wolfed down the bagel. After that, I just relaxed, too tired to read anything, until my flight at 6:30. This time, I got an aisle seat. Good thing, because that half-hour squeezed into that tiny seat with my sore butt and my aching exhausted body was one of the most uncomfortable half hours I could imagine! Christ, how did I manage to fly home from shoots back East?? But then it was over, I got my bag, and shuttled to my car. When I staggered in my front door, it was 8:30. I sent a few “I’m home!” texts, and then I went straight to bed, where I slept six hours.

Aaaaand you know the rest. That was Monday. Tuesday and Wednesday I was slam-jammed with work, Wednesday night I started feeling bad, and Thursday morning I tested positive. I have been home for the past several days — no John this past weekend. I had a couple of really uncomfortable days, slept a lot, and then it dissipated into feeling like a mild flu or cold. I’ve been able to work, which was very good, because I was so busy. Now I’m caught up. And as of this moment, I’ve had no fever all day, I still have a deep cough but it’s not out of control, and I haven’t taken any Advil or Tylenol all day (whereas I took it around the clock before). So I’d say I had a mild case. Thank goodness for vaccinations and boosters. Oh — and if a positive spin can possibly be put on COVID? I’ve been too damn sick to feel any post-party drop!

It was a weekend of myriad experiences, old and new, happy and sad. Many emotions. But again, absolutely no regrets. I’d do it all over again.

I am damn proud of myself.

Thank you, Oasis. See you in February. ♥

Well…

This is both hugely flattering and embarrassing.

Recently, our incomparable Bonnie wanted to make her blog list a little easier to navigate for new readers, so she asked everyone to nominate their favorites. Then she compiled a list of 40 MBS Readers’ Choice blogs, which she highlighted in orange on the roll so that newbies could find the well-read blogs more easily. Yours truly apparently was nominated several times and made the cut.

So yes, I am flattered and pleased. Why embarrassed? Because I’ve barely written a damn thing all year and I haven’t even touched this site for over a month. (sigh) What can I say? Life has interfered. I have been busy with work, and with other chores such as turning my clocks back. No, not an hour (it’s not Fall Back time yet) — I mean to 1950. Don’t worry. That’s all I’m going to say on the subject, aside from the fact that it has broken my heart and made me sick.

There hasn’t been much to write about; Covid still continues to put a damper on things, although we are fully vaccinated. We still practice a lot of caution, since John is vulnerable. And people who think it’s over are sadly mistaken. But I am hoping that as boosters improve and the strength of the disease weakens a bit, we can begin to live again. I would say at this point I am not scared of getting Covid; it’s like getting a flu. But I am terrified of the mysterious and unpredictable long Covid. A friend of ours has had that for a couple of years now, and her life is essentially ruined. She is only in her early 30s.

However, despite all this, we managed to have a joyous time a couple of weeks ago, when we attended the wedding event of dear friends. It was a three-day event at a resort/hotel (rehearsal dinner Friday, ceremony/dinner/dancing Saturday, buffet brunch Sunday); we came for two days of it. It was held outside, on a picture perfect sunny day, and people came from all over to attend. I would say about fifty people were there, and for those who couldn’t make it, the wedding was streamed live on Zoom.

It was so much fun to get dressed up, to see old friends and meet new ones, and GET HUGS! Lots and lots and lots of hugs! I quite literally had friends running across the lawn to fling themselves into my open arms. Damn, I’d missed that! The ceremony was beautiful, the bride was truly radiant, and hey, I even got to play a little — with the groom, no less! 🙂 No, I’m not going to provide details on who. IFKYK.

They had a photo area for all of us, so John and I took this goofy picture. I was holding up a sign that read “HIS,” but of course, Klutzy McDork held it up wrong.

After over two years of practically being hermits, this felt good. And of course, it made me want to attend the Vegas party over Labor Day. Sadly, the party scene is still very much divided and angry these days. Someone was called out and banned… and now there is backlash against the person who did the calling out, which is damned unfair and wrong. I know all parties involved… I know what and who I believe. But what I think doesn’t matter a damn in the overall scheme of things.

So… do we go? Do we not go? Sooo many people I want to see. But again, the Covid thing, the crowded rooms, the close contact. Ugh. I hate this. But I have a couple of months to decide.

For everyone who voted for this blog on Bonnie’s survey, thank you. Why do you read this? And what would you like to see? Obviously, things have changed — I can no longer write about shoot adventures and so forth. But I still have a lot to say. I just have to determine who wants to hear it.

Have a great weekend, y’all. Be safe. ♥

All Over the Map

It’s been quite a week. I have been at the heights of joy, in the pits of sadness, and boiling over with frustration and anger. Because everything has felt so random and crazy, I think I’ll just list things in no particular order. That way, people can read, pick and choose what they relate to, and ignore the rest.

I watched a special on ABC last night: “Eyewitness to the Death of John Lennon.” It was first aired in December 2020, marking the 40-year anniversary of John Lennon’s murder. Jeezus, forty years. And just like that, all the feels and the tears came rushing back. Guns and crazy people then; guns and crazy people now. What’s changed? What’s gotten better? Broke my heart all over again.

Here in Southern CA, Orange County specifically, there is an Italian restaurant who — yes, you are reading correctly — will not allow people to wear masks inside and who demands proof of NON-vaccination before you’re allowed to dine there. (How the hell do you show proof of that, anyway?) The owner is self-righteous and smug and militant about his stance; I watched part of an interview with him and he was so belligerent that the newscaster cut it short and said, on the air, “You sound like an idiot.” Last Tuesday night, I saw a tweet about an article that stated the owner was getting a huge kick out of the anger over this and he’d said he was “enjoying watching people’s head explode.”

So, Miss Mouth here tweeted: “What an asshole. I hope HIS head explodes when his restaurant is shut down due to massive Covid infection.”

Y’all know I didn’t mean that literally, right? You know it’s a figure of speech? Of course you do. Well, apparently Twitter didn’t. They locked down my account for a week. Said I violated their policy about “abuse and harassment.” Seriously?? Unbelievable. I saw many tweets that were a great deal worse than what I’d said; Twitter is so damn arbitrary. Oh well. I do have an alternate account for these instances, so I’ve kept up. Oh, and just for grins, I went and checked out the restaurant’s Yelp page. The place was bombarded with so many one-star angry reviews that Yelp temporarily disabled all the reviews and comments. Good. Fuck that guy. It’s too bad, though. It would have been fun to post a review along the lines of “Be sure to try the special: Roast Leg of Lambda with a side of Covidini. Better yet, stay the hell away from this Petri dish.”

On the good news front: Guess who is coming back to CA to visit me? C from Oregon! I can’t believe he is making that long trip again, and just for one day this time, but I’m thrilled that he wants to. I am seeing him two weeks from Monday and I can’t wait. Also, I heard from Mr. Woodland and he wants to play again soon too. Ah, this makes me happy.

And it helps make up for the fact that the man I played with a week ago Tuesday has seemingly dropped off the planet. Never heard another word from him — no email, no text, nothing. No feedback on our play. No check-in. Radio silence. I thought he enjoyed himself — I guess I was mistaken. Fortunately, I had no emotional investment this time.

Covid is on the rise again, escalating rapidly, with the Delta variant taking over. Breakthrough cases in people who are fully vaxxed are increasing. First they said the cases were 99% unvaxxed people; the latest I read is that the new cases are 86% unvaxxed. The numbers are going in the wrong direction. And guess where the latest really bad red zone is? Yup. Las Vegas.

Where we’re supposed to be headed in a month.

Our tickets are purchased, our hotel room is booked. I am craving this party with all my heart and soul. Not just because of the play — that’s actually secondary. I want to see our friends. I want hugs, lots and lots and lots of hugs. Jay, my sweet, wonderful Sister In Spirit is coming — this is her first SL. And it would be our first time meeting in person. We have been online friends for seven years, shared a million emails and texts, exchanged many presents… but I’ve never gotten to look her in the face, throw my arms around her.

But I have to face reality. It might not be safe to go. Yes, everyone at the party will be vaxxed. But we’ll be all over the hotel. Hallways, restaurants, elevators. Constant exposure. Tons of people — it’s a holiday weekend. And even vaxxed people can carry and transmit the Delta variant. Yes, the vaccine helps. Yes, even if we got Covid, it would most likely be a mild case. I’m not concerned about myself.

But John is another story. He is high-risk. He is compromised.

I’m seeing the writing on the wall. He’s already saying things like “Well, we’ll have to spend more time in our room, take more breaks,” “We can bring more snacks and eat in our room more,” “We’ll have to keep our masks on even in the party rooms,” “Maybe we can just stay for a couple of days instead of all four,” and so on. It sounds like if we go, we’re going to be uptight and preoccupied about the specter of Covid every damn minute. And what fun is that? People are coming from all over, bringing who knows what. And, as mentioned, Vegas is a hot spot now.

I suppose I could go by myself, take John out of possible harm’s way. But the thought of that is nearly as unbearable as not going at all. I’ve never gone to a party without John, not once in 25 years. I can’t imagine being there without him. Yeah, I’d have lots of people to hang with. But I’d feel like I was missing a limb.

So. There isn’t a blessed thing I can do at this point. All I can do is watch and wait, and hope. Maybe things will improve in Vegas over the next month.

Or maybe things will get so bad that we’ll all get locked down again. Who knows. It’s unthinkable. But then again, having this pandemic go on and on like it has is unthinkable as well.

Here is where I could go on a long, expletive-filled rant about what I think of anti-vaxxers and Covid deniers. But I won’t. Y’all know me. You can well imagine what I’m thinking and feeling right now about these people with their willful ignorance and utter selfishness.

Perhaps this says it all.

So yeah. I’m all over the place. Oh, and did I mention that John’s and my 25th anniversary is at the end of August? SL was going to be our celebration getaway. Hopefully it still will be. Only time will tell.

How are you doing? Come talk to me. Stay safe, everyone. ♥

Back home, full circle: 50 Freaks 2020

I figured since my last post featured a photo of the view from the car on the way to Vegas, I’d post a pic of the view on the way home for this one. No clouds this time, but look at the snow!

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I used to post these reports in multiple entries, one for each day of the party, but I stopped doing that and now it’s easier to simply write one loooooooong post. So settle in and get comfortable.

What a party. So many thoughts and feelings. So many laughs. So many hugs. And yes, soooo much play. 🙂 I played with nine different men, four of them more than once. Not too shabby after a year off from play parties!

Before I get into the day to day, I wanted to say a few things about my experience overall. The welcomes I received were unbelievably gratifying — so many hugs, so many utterances of “I’m so glad to see you,” “I missed you,” “Glad you’re back.” No one asked me about what happened (many of them knew, as these things tend to get around), and the particular name was never mentioned in my presence. (John said a few people talked with him about it, but every time was with nothing but concern for my well-being.) I was able to relax back into things without feeling anxiety and paranoia over what people were thinking, if they were thinking anything, because I simply didn’t care. It’s done. And I didn’t regret coming back for a single minute. It was time.

The party was quite large and I think I knew only about half the people, maybe two thirds. It didn’t matter. The people who mattered to me were there, and I got to see them, talk to them, have meals with them, hug them. I focused on what was, not what had been or what wasn’t. I decided I was going to go with whatever the flow brought my way and let go of my need to predict/control everything.

And I had a fan-freaking-tastic time. ♥

So without further ado, here come the highlights.

Thursday: The drive passed without event. Of course, you’re thinking, why wouldn’t it? (sigh) Not with my brain. Y’all know what I go through beforehand with all the fretting about worst-case scenarios. But we made it, and in good time too.

The past couple of months, I had been bantering with Zack on Twitter. He was fairly new to the scene, coming to his first national party, and already had a long list of indiscretions I’d committed (including “breathing with attitude” — I kid you not), so I was looking forward to meeting him. He was coming from Kansas City (oh, that’s in Missouri, not the Great State of Kansas, FYI) and was sharing a room with Abby and “Jaibug,” so I texted him as soon as we settled in, and we dropped in to meet him and to see Abby again (Jai wasn’t there yet). It was mid-afternoon and we were tired and grubby from the drive, so we didn’t stay long, but of course Abby got spanked while we were there. She took it in stride and she and I tossed a stuffed penguin back and forth during the whole thing. 😀 Yes, it was going to be a fun weekend.

Thursday night is a blur of greetings and hugs. I don’t remember much about that evening, except that a quickie fun warm-up scene with Zack was my first (of many; I think he and I must have played about five-six times?). And before I get into more details, I have to stop and say that as fun as Zack is online, he’s even more delightful in person. Oh, and hugs-wise, of special note was getting tackle-hugged by Sarah Rocks. I do love that woman! She doesn’t just hug you — she hurls her whole body at you. One of the most infectiously happy people I know. 🙂

Then just before midnight, “InspectHerHide” Michael showed up with his lovely wife “Ellie_3.” I love these two people so much; Michael has been a highlight of my play parties for many years now, and the addition of his adorable bride has made it even better. As I passed through the crowded room, looking for him, several people stopped me. “Did Michael find you?” “Michael’s looking for you!” Finally I saw him across the room talking to someone, and I sneaked up behind him and kissed his neck. Oh, I’d missed those Michael hugs! And of course, immediately after the long hug, he took me by the hand and pulled me into the bedroom, where we had our usual raucous first scene of the weekend. Without belaboring the past year overly much, I just have to mention that Michael, during my disappearance, never stopped checking in with me with sweet, supportive texts. And when I finally told him, months after the fact, what had happened and expressed my deep fear that no one would believe me, he said the three kindest words he could: “I believe you.” Like I said, I love this man. ♥ After the amazingly-intense-for-a-Thursday-night spanking, I curled up into him and we stayed on the bed for a long time afterward, just holding each other close and talking, catching up. It was delicious.

So, so good to see Joe (DrLectr) again, and to meet his girlfriend P. As always, there were plenty of snacks and beverages, and pizza late that night (you really never have to go out to dinner during a Freaks weekend, but people do anyway). I don’t remember how late we stayed that first night; I know that when we did go, the party was in full swing, but we had three more nights to go, so we headed relatively early. (That means before three a.m.)

Friday: Okay, you guys know me and my routine(s). At parties, when I’m not playing or talking, I’m sleeping. I hate mornings. I don’t care who is doing what during the morning hours; they can do it without me. I stay up half the night and then in the morning, while John goes to the gym, I sleep and sleep until he wakes me up around 11-11:30. Then I drag myself out of bed, grumbling, shower and dress, and head out for the first meal of the day.

Yeah. Zack, Abby and Jai blew that all to hell. :-Þ

Zack, a morning person and an avid exerciser, had cheerfully announced that he was going to get up at 6:00 a.m. to work out. He wanted to know who would join him. I said, “Oh, honey… you’ve never been to one of these parties. People are just going to bed at 6:00 a.m. You try to get anyone up at that hour and you’ll have a mutiny on your hands.” Abby was more succinct; she told him she’d kill him if he woke her before 10. So he let go of that idea, and John joined him in the gym around 9:00.

As per our usual routine, John came back to the room around 11, stripped off his gym clothes and crawled into bed with me to wake me up. I’d barely opened my eyes when there was a very loud Knock knock knock! at our hotel door. What the… John threw his clothes back on and went to see who was there — it was Zack, Abby and Jai, who came in and Jai and Abby threw themselves onto the bed with sputtering, spluttering me, as I pulled the covers over my head and swore profusely. Of course, they all laughed at me, and Zack took pictures of me hiding in the bed, so I finally had to bite the bullet and get up (at least I had PJs on!). They wanted to go to lunch, so I pleaded with them to wait so I could shower first.

While I went about my ablutions, John just had to get a picture:

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I finally got myself pulled together and we went downstairs to eat. They have a shop that’s a bagel/breakfast shop at one end and a Subway at the other, so it’s got something for everyone and we pushed a couple of tables together so the five of us could sit and eat, and chat.

Friday afternoon didn’t have any activities we planned to attend, and on Friday evening, a group of people were going to the Cosmopolitan for a show, so it was going to be a low-key early afternoon and evening. I figured we’d just chill, sleep a bit while we could, then I’d wash my hair and get ready for the evening. But I’d no sooner slept for about a half-hour than guess who came knocking at the door again?? All right, you guys… I give. Clearly, this weekend was not going to be like my usual weekends, and I could either be a pill and a killjoy, or I could just go with it and forfeit some of my sleep. I chose to go with the latter, and I have no regrets. 🙂

After showering and doing my hair and makeup, we headed to 960 for the vendor fair. My dear long-time friend Andy (the photographer who took that long-ago picture of me in front of the mirror) was selling his canes, so I did a brief demo with him.

Shenanigans ensued as the evening progressed. At one point, I was sitting on the couch and Abby came bounding in, scampered up to me and said, “Wanna have some fun?” She then pulled a roll of duct tape out of her purse and said, “Zack’s in the room; let’s duct tape the door shut.” Sounded like fun to me!

However, I guess we made too much noise in the hallway. We were trying to stifle our giggles, but it was impossible to mask the loud ripping sound the tape made. So, we’d barely gotten one strip around the top and side of the doorway when Zack opened the door and tore the tape, and just stood there, smiling down at the two of us crouched on the carpet. Busted… He had to make a phone call, but promised he’d deal with us later.

And of course, he did. Abby first, and then me. Neither of us took him seriously, though. In fact, while I was OTK, I untied his shoelaces. And then Abby tied the laces from each shoe into a knot, binding his feet together. 😀

I was delighted to see that my friend Brandon was at this party — I hadn’t seen him for a couple of years, but we go back twelve years (geez, where does time go??). Sometime mid-evening, he sat in front of me and announced, “I’m going to spank you!” “Oh, yeah?” I said. “You and who else?” “Me and this!” he replied, holding up his right hand. Oh well, when you put it that way… We went into the bedroom, where we saw Zack and Abby on one side of the bed, so we took the other side. The four of us had a fun scene, all playing off one another. Check out Abby and me — do we look like trouble, or what?

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Zack also took a minute or so of video of the four of us and our silliness on the bed. He posted it on Twitter. It’s been well received, gotten 71 likes so far.

Brandon then had me get up and lie on the bed, and he gave me a strapping with his belt. I had forgotten just how good he is with that thing. Yummmmyyyy. Thank you, B.

Things are blurry as far as what happened when, but later that night, several of us were on one of the beds (me, John, Zack, Abby, and the Infamous Kat) when Roy came in. Ah, Roy. What do I say about Roy. I’ve known him for what, about five years now? Maybe six? We play a couple of times at every party. And we have this Thing, this chemistry, this crazy attraction for one another. Soooo… we flirt, we banter, we dance on the lines without quite crossing them. And dammit, it’s fuuuuuuun. And sexy. And harmless. John laughs about it, bless his non-possessive heart.

Anyway, he sat on the bed and started playing with my bare feet. He’d just gotten there that evening, so we hadn’t played yet — and then he said, “We need to play.” No argument from me there! “Big bathroom? Our spot?” he asked. Yup, we have a “spot.” Some of you might remember, that happened one party a few years ago when there was absolutely no place to play and we ended up going into the larger bathroom and he sat on the padded vanity seat. We’ve gone there ever since. Even got this picture two years ago.

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We settled into our spot and started our scene. Oh, my. It went on for a long time. Roy is one of a handful of tops I know who can do pretty much anything and it’s okay with me. I feel like a hypocrite sometimes, because I bitch and moan and preach about tops doing things I don’t like, and yet Roy can do them and I have zero complaint. What can I say… that’s just the way it is. So when he began slapping along my inner thighs and down the backs of my legs, I didn’t protest. Well, until it hurt, then I winced. And then he said, “I’m sorry, baby–” and I completely forget how he ended that. “I’m sorry, baby, but you know you need this.” “I’m sorry, baby, but you know I have to do this.” Something like that. All I heard were the first three words and the rest blurred as I dissolved into girl goo. 🙂

People commented later about the marks on my thighs. My answer? “It’s Roy. Roy can do whatever he wants.” I’m so bad…

You know, after that, I don’t remember much, so I’ll end Friday night on that note. I think we left the party around 3:00. Oh, wait — we did have cake for the amazing Madame Samantha’s birthday at 11:30.

Saturday: This time, our morning trio of visitors didn’t come as a shock to my system. By now, I was laughing about it. They hung out while I showered and dressed, and then of course one thing led to another and I ended up getting a “good morning” spanking from Zack.

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Isn’t he cute?? And yes, that’s Roy’s handiwork on my thighs.

After lunch, John and I had some time to ourselves before the “Service Spa” event. Joe started doing this a few years ago; it’s like a mini-spa for the female bottoms, with massage tables set up, chocolates, champagne, and pampering. Each table was doing something different, and a couple of men (Zack and Michael) sat off to the side, brushing hair. Andy was there doing rhythmic sensual caning, which I love, so I got on his table and blissed out while he used two canes in a gentle tapping rhythm that was stimulating and had just a teeny sting to it but didn’t hurt. So many people are afraid of canes, but they have no idea how many different ways they can be used. And really, a cane is only as scary as the person holding it. Implements aren’t ever the culprits in a bad scene, I don’t think — it’s the bad tops wielding them.

Roy showed up about forty-five minutes into it — another one of our Things is that he always gives me a massage. I sat at his feet on the carpet and zoned out while he massaged my neck and shoulders, my scalp. Jeeezus, that man’s hands… (Side note: I know Zack also gave me a massage at some point during the weekend, and he’s really good at it also, but I can’t remember which night it was! Everything kind of runs together in my mind as far as sequence goes.) I was thoroughly relaxed after all this and then hung out on the couch talking until it was time to head off and get ready for dinner.

Steak house time again! Every year, Joe books us the small, cozy banquet room at the hotel steak house, and we get a group of fifteen. There’s usually a sign-up sheet for it, but this year there wasn’t for some reason, so there was some confusion and more people wanting to go than the room could handle, but it ended up okay. I showered and dressed up, and when we got to the restaurant, John and I ended sitting right near Joe and P, which was lovely. The group overall was great — Djinn was there, Peaches, Zack and Abby, Jai, and some others I didn’t know, but we all had laughs and wonderful food. I had a glass of Moscato that was delicious, and John and I both got the salmon and split a side of grilled asparagus.

Later that night, there was a birthday party for Dirk — Dirk and Roslyn have been in the scene forever and Joe adores them. It was such fun — the theme was the Roaring ’20s, and several people were in costume. There were colored lights and music and some dancing, and a whole lot of alcohol (the place was turned into a speakeasy and people were walking around the room passing out Moscow Mules and other mixed drinks, plus champagne). I had a glass and a half, and that on top of the Moscato got me a bit tipsy. Oh, and Moscow Mules are delicious — who knew?

Michael and Ellie were leaving early Sunday morning, so of course I had to have one more scene with Michael before they left. This one was shorter than Thursday’s, but every bit as enjoyable. I also played with a gentleman I’d just met named Andy — he was very tall and polite and had a delightful accent. I think (?) he was born in Germany, but had lived in Sweden and other places as well. After we played and I was sitting in his lap, he did something I loved — he stood up with me in his arms and spun me around before putting me down. 🙂 I giggled like crazy; it was unexpected and sweet.

The rest of the night is the usual blur of cacophony and bodies and watching people play. John and I discovered this time that it was good to take mini-breaks now and then when the noise and the crush got to be too much. Just a few minutes away would refresh us and then we could re-join the party. But we still can’t do the all-nighters so many others do, so we called it a night around 3:00-3:30 once again.

Sunday: Abby was flying home that morning, so she had asked if she could come by our room to say goodbye. Of course I said yes. So the three of them stopped by around 11:00, and we all hung out for a while, talking, before we had to send Abby on her way. Zack and Jai left, saying they’d be back, and I had assumed they were taking her to the airport, so John and I decided to shower. John was in the shower, I was naked with a towel wrapped around my hair… and there was a knock at the door! Whaaaa?? I snatched up a second towel to wrap around myself and went to answer it — turns out Zack and Jai didn’t drive Abby anywhere, they just put her in an Uber! And of course John chose that moment to come out of the bathroom, holding a washcloth over his privates (damn, I wish we’d gotten a picture of that!). I then went in to shower, with all this teasing going on in the background of how they were going to come into the bathroom and watch (they didn’t).

We went to Subway again, and this time were joined by Mir, Tall&Strict and Sean. It was a nice long lunch with several sub-conversations going on, and Zack had Abby on his phone on FaceTime so we could all say goodbye to her again before her plane took off.

Sunday early afternoon at these parties usually has the wonderful staple of Strict Dave’s Punishment Court. But sadly, Dave and Stacy had to cancel unexpectedly, and so Joe, with the help of Crashdance, RBH and others, put together a series of spanko games with teams and participants. We got there late and missed the first half of it, but got to see the games of Trivial Pursuit, Family Feud and Pyramid. Pyramid was especially funny, because it was all spanking terms. “Young Lady.” “Six of the Best.” “Bare Bottom,” etc. I wished I had gotten in on the game — I knew almost all the movie/TV/video trivia.

After the games ended, a bunch of us stayed in the room hanging out, and John and I met this delightful couple, M and B, who live in L.A. and have a small group that has munches and little parties periodically. As it turned out, I had watched B scening the night before, and was mesmerized by his scolding technique. He kept a running commentary going, his voice calm and even, with no sign of any rote phrases or trite drivel — damn, it was hot! I told him so. We chatted them up a bit and then watched a fun scene with RBH strapping the two of them plus Chloe for some prank that involved quinoa (you had to be there). While this was going on, I found a giant blow-up bat that was labeled, appropriately, “Super Bat,” and thought it would be a fun idea to bop Zack in the head with it. Repeatedly. Until he decided to address it. 😀

However, our scene was cut short when he noticed the skin on my sit spots was a bit thrashed and dry, and in dire need of some lotion. He was concerned that if he continued, my skin would break. (It probably wouldn’t, but I fully commend and respect a conscientious top.) So, plan B — I dashed back to our room to get lotion, and he spent some time massaging some into my poor beleaguered butt.

Then we took a selfie. I am sleepy-faced and have zero makeup on, and I don’t care — I really like this picture. 🙂

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Zack had to leave at 5:00 for his flight home and he’d checked out of his room, so he put his stuff with ours and hung out in our room that afternoon. Back story: in our weeks of banter, he’d often mentioned how hot he thought it would be to throw a spankee over his shoulder and carry her off to her fate. Having experienced that myself, I agreed, it was indeed hot, and I told him he was welcome to try that with me if he’d like to. And soooo… we did it. He picked me up like I was a sack of feathers, put me over his shoulder and carried me up and down the hall. And of course, we had to get a picture… (John took this one):

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When Zack left, John and I decided to sleep for a while, so we’d be fresh for the Sunday final blowout. Usually on Sunday nights, our thing is to go to the Oyster House restaurant in the hotel for dinner, but we decided to pass on that, since the party suite was having pizza again. I almost never eat pizza — it’s the only thing with cheese that I actually like — but a slice of it sure tastes good in the midst of all this activity. (I always want a second piece, but I have to refrain because I know it will make me sick to my stomach.) So, after packing some of our stuff and getting ready, we headed to 960 somewhere around 10-ish. Things weren’t quite hopping yet, but by 11, it was mobbed.

B came and asked if I’d like to play, and I said yes, I’d love to. We’d just met, but as I mentioned, I had watched him play and really liked his style. He likes role-play, and at a party, I’m game for it. But when we got to the bedroom and he stood before me, taking my hands and saying, “So, I heard from your school today,” I couldn’t help it — I burst out laughing. Then I said, “School?? Do you know how old I am? Pick something else!” He laughed, and then swung right into something about breaking curfew. (Which was equally preposterous, but I decided to go with it.) We had fun; he used his hand and belt (he checked in with me beforehand, asking about limits and preferences), and as I’d seen him do, he kept up a running commentary through the scene, allowing me to interact with him and banter. He was testing the waters, checking how I was by asking “Are you sorry yet?” I knew this was his way of saying, “Have you had enough of should I go on?”, so I said, “Yes… sorry-not-sorry!” Ruh roh… wrong answer! After another few flurries, he asked again if I was sorry, and this time I said, “Yessir!” 😀 It was a perfect little scene.

We spent some time chatting with Kat and her hubby, and with Mir. I went off to get a caning from Andy M, which was great fun. I love his precision with canes; I always know I’m in good, safe hands with him. Oh, and of course I had to have a second scene with Roy. We tried to grab our bathroom spot, but this time, the bathroom was occupied with two girls in a bubble bath and several others standing around talking with them. So we nabbed a spot on one of the beds. During aftercare, he said, kind of out of nowhere, “I don’t like it when you go missing. I don’t even know what happened, I just know it was some bad shit. But I’m so glad you’re back.” Little things like this really made my weekend. ♥

Did I mention that the pizza was supposed to arrive at 11 and it didn’t get there until 12:15? By then, I was ravenously hungry and lightheaded, not having eaten since lunchtime (aside from a few peanuts in our room), so it seemed like the best thing I’d ever tasted.

Of course, no party is complete without a Florentine flogging from Fineous (gotta love alliteration, right?). He and I have played on Sunday nights for… well, ever. If I don’t find him, he finds me. It’s our Thing. He had a massage table this time, so I stripped down to just panties and stretched out for my sensuous treat. Nobody flogs like Fineous — it’s indescribable, and so very relaxing. Perfect for winding down a party weekend.

After I somehow managed to stand up and put my clothes back on, I drifted over and found John talking with Mir and T&S. The conversation was animated, and as I got closer, I became aware that the subject was politics. Noooooooo. Not now. No. Please. T&S was ranting about you-know-who, and although I agree with him, I just couldn’t bear to listen to this now, not when I was so blissed out. So I groaned, “Mercy!” He kept going, so I said it again, louder. He still kept going! Then John said, “Hey, didn’t you hear her? She just safe-worded twice!” T&S laughed then and said, “Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” Yeahhh… don’t be killing my buzz, dude.

It was getting late, and I assumed that the flogging was going to be my last scene. I had hoped to play with Joe, but he was so busy and I knew the chances of that happening were slim. So I curled up next to John on the couch and prepared to just hang out there and chill until we decided to leave.

I assumed incorrectly. 🙂 As I hunkered down with John, I looked up to see none other than Paul Kennedy. I had not seen Alex and Paul for a long time (missed them both hugely!), and I think the last time Paul and I played was when I shot for Northern in 2018 — I’ve always loved playing with him. Well, looked like it was about to happen again; he didn’t say a word, merely stepped up to me and took my hand. Nice.

He had a short, thin cane with him (uh oh), and we went and found a spot on one of the beds, where he took me OTK and gave me a long, deliciously hard hand spanking. By the end of it, I was moaning into the bedspread, but when he let me up, he just smiled and said, “We’re not done.” And he had me bend over the side of the bed.

I know Paul is an expert caner, but I have never been caned by him before. Oh. My. GOD. He had a technique I have never experienced before, not in all these years. In general, I’ve had cane strokes delivered one at a time, with pauses in between to absorb them. Sometimes the top will do a bit of tap-tap-tap with the cane before the major stroke, just to get the positioning right. Paul did the tap-tap-tap as per usual… but after a while, the single hard strokes became double strokes. And then triple. And finally, quadruple. Each stroke would be in a slightly different spot, not all on top of each other (thank god!!), but have two, three and four hard slices in a row was mind-blowing. Oh… and did I mention he caned my upper thighs as well?

Holy crap.

This was definitely a Sunday night finale scene. It was hard. It challenged me. And I was in the best of hands.

When he pulled me up, I was speechless. I was breathless. My mouth was hanging open, but no sounds came out, just strangled gasps. He then laid a finger over my lips, pulled me into his side, wrapped his arms around me and said, “Shhhh… I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

Sweetest of words.

It took me a while to come back down to Earth, and Paul let me take my time. Then after I pulled myself back together, he led me back out and took me to John, leaning over and kissing the top of my head before making his exit. Thank you, Paul. ♥

Wouldn’t you know it… as I stood there, my legs like butter, my entire lower half feeling like it was on fire, that’s when Joe came over and wanted to play! Ah, Joe, you know I love you, and I adore playing with you, but there was no way. I told him so, and asked if he would give me some lotion aftercare instead. He took me to a table, got some lotion, and whistled when he took a look at me. I think he understood why I couldn’t play with him! After lotioning me, he took some pictures. Here I am, in all my caned glory:

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The redness had faded, even in just that few minutes. But this is a pretty good representation. Stick a fork in me; I was done.

We lingered a bit more, but at 3:30, even though the party was still in full swing with no signs of dwindling, we knew it was time to go. So we said our last good nights and headed back to our room, where we staggered into bed at 4:00, sleeping for three hours and getting up at 7:00 to shower, pack up the rest of our stuff and check out. I was so tired, I was practically delirious, but I just went into automaton mode and did what needed to be done. We made good time, and after getting coffee for the road, we were in the car by 8:00.

Right about now, it’s time for another back story — long ago, my second spanker ever, a southern gentleman, had a very sexy southern drawl, and during/after play, he was fond of saying, “How’s your butt, baby?” I told John about this, and he’s been saying it to me all these years as a joke.

Anyway… we’re in the car driving away, and a text comes in from Zack. I read it, and laughed so hard I nearly cried.

“Hey Erica! I think you are probably under way now and I’ve got something I need to ask you… How’s your butt, baby?”

I said, “John put you up to that!” and he answered, “I have no idea what you’re talking about!” (Also a John phrase.) Well played, guys. 😀

The drive home was uneventful. We stopped in Barstow and had double-scoop ice cream cones for breakfast, because vacation. As always, the ride was filled with post-party chitchat, analysis of scenes, recollections of conversations. And yes, with me squirming in the seat and sitting with my feet up on the dash to take the pressure off my butt. Been a while since I’d been that sore. And I loved it.

Would you believe it’s taken me three days to write this thing?? No rest for this girl — I unpacked and settled in on Monday and took that night off, catching up with people, but Tuesday it was back to work. Reality hits hard after these weekends, but I haven’t felt droppy, just tired and a little overwhelmed with stuff to do. Speaking of which, I need to get back to work and do a ton of laundry. However, last but not least…

Thanks to so many people for contributing to my beautiful weekend. I really do feel like I came full circle and I’m back where I belong. Not in the same place I was before, but still a good one. I have a stronger sense of who my friends are, and I am deeply grateful for them. But more than anyone else, as always, I must thank my beloved, the man who is always with me, who has seen me through everything, who rejoices and mourns with me, who supports me, who has never left me. I love you with all my heart, John. ♥

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Thank you for reading! (Oh, for those who may be wondering — the cane stripes on my thighs have morphed into beautiful bruises, and my sit spots still look a bit mottled. However, my butt is pristine once again. I still got it. :-D)

EDIT: There are so many more people I encountered this party that I didn’t mention here, and I’m sorry. But if I were to mention everyone and everything, I’d be writing this post until Labor Day. Still, for those who shared a hug with me, a few minutes of conversation, thank you. Every one of you was part of my experience. Just a few, in no particular order: Pharaoh, Sha and your beautiful girls; Katerina; KentuckyGirl; Alex Reynolds; Brad; Djinn; Keagan; Gary; SweetEnticement; James and Korey; NaughtyMichael. and probably others I’m forgetting and please forgive me… thank you all! ♥

Homecoming

vegassky

The picture above was taken from the car on the drive to Las Vegas a few years ago. And tomorrow morning, we will be on the same road.

I am so excited, and so nervous. This party feels different, because it is. I’m not the same person I was when I last attended. I took a year off parties, and thought for a very long time that I was completely done with the scene… and the scene was done with me. Now I’m coming back with a different perspective, having come full circle. Now, all I want is to see some dear old friends, meet some new ones, and have a few days of fun and play. I have no other expectations. Just a sense of gratitude that I’m being welcomed back, at least by some. And the others don’t matter.

So, it’s the usual whirlwind of preparation and checking off lists. And trying to finish work. And packing. And on and on it goes. As always, you’d think I was leaving for six months instead of 4 1/2 days. I’ll be bringing way too many clothing items — the advantage of driving instead of flying. So far, I managed not to get sick, or to cut my thumb open like I did the day before a few parties ago. (I did get Krazy Glue all over my fingers last night, but Google was helpful in solutions on how to get it off.) Also as always, I don’t think I’ll exhale until we’re in our hotel room. I mean, things happen. Once while on the 15, we noticed a few wisps of smoke passing through one area. Roughly 10-15 minutes after we passed it, that area exploded into a huge brush fire and the freeway was closed. These are the things I ponder before a Vegas trip.

A dear friend referred to this party as a homecoming of sorts for me, and that’s how I’m thinking of it. You can’t go home again, not to the home as it once was, but you can change your perspective and appreciate Home 2.0. Which is what I intend to do.

(deep breaths) See y’all on the flip side. To friends who are attending, see you SOON!

So anyway…

I feel like I want to write something here, even though I’m not sure what that is. I used to think I had to have something special, something of interest or intrigue, to post, but perhaps this blog can also be a place for me to ramble.

I miss playing. I really do. No, it’s not physically essentially like air, food and water. But it is emotionally essential. It’s a part of my makeup. Even when times are funky and I’m down, the cravings come when I least expect them.

People ask, “Isn’t there anyone available to play with you?” That’s not the question. It’s more like “with whom I want to play.” Because despite my neediness, I still prefer quality. I would rather go without than settle for an experience that doesn’t fulfill me. That’s the weird dichotomy of spanking, for me. The good ones can be so rich, so intensely wonderful and memorable in every way. But the not-so-hot ones? They are almost repulsive. It’s like having sex with someone you’re not drawn to. Why would you? Just for the sensation of being screwed? I’ll never want sex — or spanking — that much.

And, unfortunately due to circumstances of recent times, I do not feel safe or comfortable seeking what I need. Because the last time I admitted to neediness, to vulnerability, it bit me in the ass. Not in a fun, sexy way, either. So even though there are those I would indeed enjoying seeing for some play, I will not be the one to ask.

Regarding the party at the end of February… because I know how the gossip train is in this scene, I figured my hesitation about it would get back to the host, and his feelings would be hurt, which I do not want. So I headed things off at the pass and wrote him a long message, explaining what was going on with me and that my desire to withdraw from everything had absolutely nothing to do with him and I loved him dearly. He wrote back to me with such sweet words, I wept. I am a treasured friend and the party wouldn’t be the same without me. That he really wants me to be there, so please, please come.

So. I booked our room. That has to be done in advance. As for the rest, I have a month and a half to think about it. Everyone says I should go. Part of me wants to, so much. But the ugly, bleak voice within that seems to have taken over in recent weeks keeps saying no.

What else am I thinking about… oh, just random stuff. Like, remember I mentioned watching the Twilight Zone marathon over New Year’s? We happened to catch “It’s a Good Life.” Y’all know that one, don’t you? It’s the classic about the town that is being held hostage by a monstrous child, six-year-old Anthony Fremont? A child with too much power, but a complete dearth of empathy or caring? Who hates everyone who doesn’t like him, eliminates necessary things simply because he doesn’t care for them? Just one tiny little man-child, running the town according to his whims, making everyone suffer.

I was especially remembering the part where the party guest gets drunk and loses it, pleading tearfully to the others in the room to please, PLEASE, somebody, grab something heavy when he’s not looking and lay it across his skull, and end this once and for all?? Of course, no one did, but they all wanted to. The poor guy died for his outburst. And then for good measure, the little bastard changed the weather so it would ruin all the crops.

Why am I thinking about this so much? Eh, no particular reason…

Have a great weekend, y’all.

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