Dazed and contused

And blissful. Don’t forget blissful.

(Yes, this is a long read. You know the drill. Get a beverage.)

You know, I got the green light from him to mention him by name. But you know me; I tend to err on the side of discretion. And he has an unusual name. So, just in case, for now, I shall refer to him as B. If he chooses to comment on here and reveal his name, then that’s okay too.

B is someone I’ve known for a few years, seen at parties, bantered with a bit on FetLife, but we’ve never played. Which is kind of a shame, considering we live near one another. But it’s just one of those things that didn’t happen. Plus, he has a very busy life, works a lot of hours. And he’s a newlywed with a beautiful bride. (Yes, she is kinky too. Yes, she knew we played. All is copacetic.)

We’d met for coffee a couple of weeks ago to talk, and agreed we both wanted to play. He said I was welcome to come to his house, and since parking on my street is such a nightmare, I thought yes, that would be perfect. We had set it up for last Friday, but he’d gotten called in to work that day, so we switched it to Saturday at 1:00.

I have not been playing, obviously. I haven’t doing much of anything, besides working, going through the motions of functioning, and mourning John. It’s only been recently that I had felt the stirrings of need to play again. But of course, along with that came the bombardment of insecurity and self-consciousness.

I haven’t wanted to be seen lately. I’ve felt drab, deflated, colorless, sad. When I took a selfie, I’d smile, but my smiles never reached my eyes. And I certainly didn’t feel attractive or sexy. Grief takes a toll on one’s psyche for sure. John was so very affectionate with me — always touching me in some way, holding my hand, putting his arm around me, cuddling with me, nuzzling me with his nose, which always made me giggle. I’d gone from that to no touch at all for a very long time. Skin hunger is real.

I also wondered what kind of tolerance I’d have… if I’d have any. If it would feel the same. If I’d be able to handle it without breaking down into a million blubbering pieces.

Oh… and this shouldn’t matter, but dammit, it does. He’s a lot younger than I am. I mean, a lot. And he’s a very tall and attractive man. I was texting with my dear friend and sis Lily Starr before the event, and I confessed that I couldn’t believe he wanted to play with me. (sigh) And she said:

“Of course he wants to play with you. You’re Erica Fucking Scott.”

I laughed out loud. And then thought, goddammit, she’s right. I’m still here. I’m still me. Down but not out. And I’m going to have fun. Because I damn well deserve to.

I showed up at 1:00, and when B opened the door, I was greeted by his behemoth of a dog, a big friendly bundle of part pit bull, part Rottweiler and part something else that’s huge, I forget. And who thinks he’s a lap dog. You know me and dogs… I was in instant heaven. There was a cat, too, but I didn’t get to give him any attention. I tried once; held out my hand to him, and he approached to sniff. But before he could even come close, the dog came barreling over and plowed his way between us. “No! You will not pay attention to anything but ME!”

We chatted a little, and searched for his phone, which he had misplaced, but we couldn’t find it. I even tried calling his phone with mine, but he must have had it silenced. So, of course, it became my fault that he couldn’t find his phone. And then we got down to it.

It was a lovely, multi-part scene, in various rooms and even outside in the back yard. Nice long warmup, strap, and cane — I can’t remember the last time I was caned. Oh, yes, I can — New Year’s Eve, 2022. Long time. But I took it well, I think. And I needn’t have worried about my tolerance. It kicked in immediately, and I found myself craving more and more. In fact, when he said something about wrapping it up, I protested. “What, that’s it?” I blurted. “We’re just getting started!” Okay then. He was happy to oblige.

Ever try to do a serious spanking scene with a giant galoot of a dog hanging around and kissing you? It can’t be done. I spent roughly half our scene laughing my head off. The dog kept coming over, licking my face, my arm, my shoulder. Or he’d park himself on the couch behind us and lick my feet. B was laughing and saying “Leave Erica Scott alone!” (He refers to me as Erica Scott, the whole name. It’s cute. I like it.)

I felt so comfortable, it was easy to let my playful side come back out. B kept moving me around, switching positions, and finally I snapped, “Would you make up your fucking mind??” Oh my. That immediately pushed us into the “That’s it, now you’re really gonna get it” zone. Which, of course, I love.

He finished me with a hard strapping, and that was the first time I found myself struggling a little. At one point I asked him please to slow down a bit, which he did right away, and then I was able to continue. Funny how, even in my peak days, I could take it hard, I could take it fast, but hard and fast at the same time overwhelmed me and still does.

Aftercare was lovely. He held me, rubbed lotion on me, let me come back down to Earth. I was a bit dazed and spacey, to say the least. But amazingly, I didn’t cry. I thought for sure when I played again, I would break down and bawl. But the urge never came. I just felt giddy and blissful. And alive.

I left around 4:00; he had someplace he needed to be, so I had to pull myself together and be on my way. Since we never did find his phone, I promised I’d take pictures when I got home. Which I did.

Ouch. So delightfully sore. I was in a happy, ditzy space for the rest of the evening. Oh, and I was starving, so I stuffed myself at dinner, and had chocolate cake for dessert. Everything tasted sublime.

Oh, and here I am in all my disheveled glory that evening. Hair still rumpled, makeup gone… and miracle of miracles, my smile reaches my eyes this time.

It’s been two days, and I’ve faded somewhat, but I still have marks. Which is fine with me.

Thank you, B. For bringing Erica Scott back out to play. For making me feel safe and comfortable. And for being so lovely and toppy and taking such delicious control. 🙂

In other news… I got through my first Valentine’s Day without John. It was not easy; very emotional day. Friends wrote and texted me, and were very supportive. My grief group met that night, and we all brought pictures of our loved ones to pass around. Many of us cried. My dear SIS Jay, who knew I’d be missing John’s flowers and chocolate, made sure I got some anyway.

And look! A week later, and they’re still gorgeous — even prettier now that the lilies opened.

This past weekend was the Oasis party in Vegas. I admit I felt FOMO, especially looking at all the posts and pictures on FetLife. There are some people I would have liked to see. But I have to stay grounded in reality. And the reality would have been that I’d be utterly miserable and sad there, missing John. It was one thing to go by myself, knowing that he was waiting for me when I came home. And even that was tough. But now? Ugh, I’d feel so apart, so alone. It’s just not something I can do anymore. So, that part of my life is done.

But I will not deny myself pleasure. I need this in my life. And hopefully, it will continue. There will be more sadness, because I lost the love of my life and nothing will change that. But I’m still here. And I must find my joy again too.

Thanks for reading. ♥

Adventure Ahead

Yup. It’s happening. For the first time in two-and-a-half years.

Back story: Well, you know. Covid. That stupid thing that was “just supposed to disappear.” *rolling eyes* Instead, it became a pandemic that killed over a million people and it’s still raging with its constant new variants and absolutely zero predictability. Of course, people are so over all this and it seems most of the population has decided to go on with life. John and I, of course, haven’t.

At first, regarding the big national parties, the decision was made for us, since they were all canceled that first year. But then they came back. And people went back. We didn’t.

I wanted to go to the past two Vegas parties. Both times, John said, “It’s not safe. It’s not responsible. Let’s sit this one out and see where things are in six months.” So. Six months passed, and then here we were, with the next party right around the corner. And John said the exact same thing, again.

And I lost it. Truly. Years of frustration and isolation and fear and resentment over this situation burst out of me in torrents of tears.

“You said the same thing the last two parties,” I said. “And life just keeps passing and passing, while we don’t do anything. I want to live. I want to see our friends. I want to play. You keep waiting for us to get control over Covid. We’re never going to get control over this fucking thing, not in our lifetimes. We’re stuck with it. There will never be a perfect time.”

Fact: We are quadruple vaxxed. Fact: Everyone I know who has gotten it recently ended up with a mild to moderate case. BUT… Also fact: These parties are super-spreaders. The last one in Texas, with over 500 people, had countless cases afterward. Fact: We went to a wedding in June. It was outdoors and only had about fifty people, But twenty of them got Covid. And fact: John still is high risk.

Truly a no-win situation. If we didn’t go to this yet again, I’d be depressed AF, inconsolable. And if we went, I’d be worried about John every damn second.

There was a third option, though. One I’d never considered before, because I really didn’t want to. I have been going to these big parties since 1997. Aside from the Covid years, and then that unfortunate year where I dropped out of the scene because of a certain narcissist, I have not missed any of them. And John has been with me every single time.

Going without him will feel like leaving one of my limbs at home. But I’m doing it.

We talked it out. I’m not scared of getting Covid at this point. And if I get it, I will stay away from John. He will never be affected. I’m also encouraged by the fact that neither one of us got it at the aforementioned wedding. John said, “I’ll be worried about you if you go, but I’ll feel bad if you don’t.” So… we chose the lesser of two uncomfortable situations. Try it once, he said. See how it goes.

This party is not what we used to attend. When we went, it was Shadow Lane, then Shadow Lodge, and it was at the Suncoast Hotel. Well… Shadow Lane/Lodge imploded last year, and the owner of it stepped down. A new crew stepped in at the last minute to take over and salvage the party as best they could. Now, they are the permanent party owners, they have found a brand-new venue (the Suncoast kicked us out, for reasons unknown to me, although I did hear rumors about an obstreperous guest who got the police called), and it has been renamed Oasis. So, although it’s a familiar experience, it will also be completely new, in every way — including the fact that I’ll be solo. *gulp*

Even though it’s a month away, the decision needed to be made. Registration, ticket purchase and hotel booking all needed to be done in advance. No tickets at the door. And the group hotel discount would expire soon. Plus, I had to book a flight. John and I usually drive, but I don’t feel like driving four-five hours two ways by myself.

So, Sunday evening, I registered, bought a ticket, and booked my suite. Then Monday, with the help of a very airline-savvy friend, I booked a flight. All done. Fully committed. No turning back.

Then I proceeded to panic. All the negatives rushed into my head. All the friends who are not going. All this money I’m spending (I told John this is my indulgence, and he’s not paying for any of it). All the unknowns and what-ifs. Who will I know? Who will I hang out with? Play with? Eat with? And of course, the ever-present “Am I too damned old to be going to one of these things anymore?”

Ugh. I cried a lot. Again. Then worked out and calmed down, and thought it out.

Yeah, I’m really nervous about this. But I am also excited. I have that sense of adventure thrumming in my veins again, that anticipation. So much potential fun. So much potential play. So many possibilities. Versus playing it safe, sitting at home, reading all about it, and wanting to open a vital artery.

I will do all the safe things. I’m bringing masks, hand sanitizer, wipes. I will wear a mask at the airport, on the plane, in the Uber. I will be careful. This is a vax-only party, and there will be fewer people than the Texas party. The new venue looks gorgeous. So dammit, I’m. Doing. This.

Bring it, tops. I am sooooo ready for you!

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!

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:

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?

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.

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.

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. 🙂

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):

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:

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. ♥

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

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!

Good things DO come to those who wait

And thank you to a dear friend who just told me that and gave me my blog title. ♥

The waiting ended up delivering; I heard from both B and D on Tuesday morning. First, I am in possession of a flight reservation up north next Wednesday to see B. Now that all the travel unknowns are knowns (yeah, I know that’s not a word, too bad), I know I will still have butterflies, but more of the good kind, as opposed to the “how many different ways can I eff this up” kind.

But that will be a story for next week. Yesterday, I played with D for the first time.

He emailed me on Tuesday morning and asked if I could play Thursday at around five. I had some things planned, but I was able to shift stuff around and I told him yes. We exchanged some more emails — he said maybe you can pick out some implements you like and put them out on the side for me to use after I warm you up. I replied that I could, but maybe I could just leave them where they are and if he wanted them, he could get them himself. 😛 Testing the waters, you know. I still wasn’t quite sure how he feels about playful bratting; I thought perhaps he liked it, but you never know until you actually do play. He also mentioned that he’d seen some of my video pictures where I was wearing garters and stocking, and if I was comfortable doing so, would I wear some for him. That was an easy enough request, one I was happy to do. My final note to him on Tuesday evening was “*sigh* Is it Thursday yet?”

The next day (Wednesday) I was climbing the freaking walls. I had set aside the whole day to just stay home and get stuff done; laundry, some cleaning, and lots of work. But the whole damn time I was squirming in my computer chair, with this endless litany in my head… Why isn’t it Thursday. Why isn’t it Thursday. And in the midst of this, an email popped in from him, one line:

Don’t worry, Thursday is approaching fast. I shall see you soon.

OMFG. What timing. How did he know??

Yesterday arrived. I got up early, had breakfast and did a couple of hours of work. Or I tried to, at least. He was torturing me, sending me a picture of a ruler from his desk. He said that rules — and wills — are meant to be broken. I sent back that so are ruleRs, and I was notorious for breaking things, sending a pic of me with a snapped cane.

Around noon, I gave up on work and took a break to do a workout, which I would have done anyway, but I really needed it now. By the time I was done with that and had showered, it was 2:00, so I still had time to do some work before I got ready.

My friend J was texting me to tease me a bit; at 4:00, I get “Only one hour to go!” I texted back: “Do you know how hard it is to put on makeup when your hands are shaking??” It’s true. I thought I was going to put my damn eye out.

By 4:30, I was nearly ready, and I was too wound up to work, so I went to catch up with Words With Friends. When I pulled up my move, I saw my letters were E B E T H R A. I don’t believe in messages, but if I did, this surely was one. My mind instantly rearranged the letters, and I got this:

A good reminder, no? (I was able to play the word, too, tacking the second E onto the T in TALE.)

And speaking of shaking hands, I had forgotten how incredibly difficult it is to hook garters onto stockings. It occurred to me I never do this by myself — I don’t wear garters unless I’m on a shoot or all dressed up at a party, and in those cases, there’s always John or someone else around to hook them for me. So I wrestled and fumbled and cussed mightily, but finally got the damn things situated in ten minutes. Just in time, too. Once again, he was on time, texting me. My apartment is security and rather than have him fussing with the intercom, I told him I’d come down and let him in.

He brought me chocolate. Two kinds. Both milk, my favorite. I don’t know how he knew; I hadn’t told him which kind, only that I loved chocolate. ♥ I know a lot of bottoms get gifts from tops, but I never expect them, and I’m always so tickled when I get a surprise like that, much like when B showed up with that espresso pot for me.

He was still in a coat and tie from work, so I took his jacket and went to hang it up, but he stopped me for a second, and then pulled that same ruler out of the pocket. Uh oh. By the way, I had kinda sorta done what he requested. I did select four implements — but I didn’t lay them out on a table. I put them where they belonged — in the trash can by my desk. 🙂

We didn’t spend too much time with preliminaries. He stood up, taking off his tie, and proceeded to unbutton his cuffs and roll up his sleeves. Slowly. Deliberately. I damn near died right there. “I hear you’re having a problem focusing,” he said. He sat down, and over his lap I went.

First times are always a little strange, in that we don’t know each other, he doesn’t know how much I can take, I don’t know what will spur him, he doesn’t know my body language and my various “tells,” etc. As one would expect, he started out very lightly. I have no issue with that; erring on the side of caution is better than jumping right in and tearing someone’s ass apart from the get-go. He picked up the ruler after a while with his hand — and after a few swats, the thing broke. No lie. The metal guide thingie running along the edge flew out, he said. “I told you I break stuff!” I cried, laughing hysterically. Time to get serious here.

Next, he had me lean over my desk so he’d have more swinging range, and explored the trash can’s implement contents. At first he was light with them, but then I put my hand on my mouse like I was going to open something and said, “Do you mind if I do some work while you’re busy back there?” Yeahhh… I think that did it.

He moved me around a bit, had me on all fours on my couch, kneeling at his feet while he sat in my recliner — and then he settled into a dining room chair, picked up my heart-shaped wooden paddle, the one that had been made for me years ago, and said, “Come over my knee.” The remainder of the scene took place there, and things ramped up exponentially.

You guys know when I am really starting to feel it, I can’t keep my feet still. Both my shoes flew off. He was a little concerned with how red I was turning. We took a brief time-out and he asked if I was sure I shouldn’t go look at it. No, I said. I’m okay. I get really red, and then it fades. I appreciated that he cared, and I took a chance then. I know some would say this is topping from the bottom (I hate that expression), but I thought it was more like giving someone new to me a bit of guidance. So I quietly said, “You can go harder and faster if you want to.”

He did.

His hand wandered up my neck and his fingers went into my hair… and then his fist tightened. The paddle was coming down faster. And then it slipped out of his hand and landed on the floor out of his reach, but within mine. “Would you hand that to me, please?” he asked.

Taking the chance to catch my breath, I gasped out, “Give me one good reason why I should do that.” He laughed, and answered, “So I can continue your spanking.” In reply to that, I picked up the paddle… and tossed it a few feet away.

Again, I was taking a chance. Some tops don’t like that kind of playfulness. But he responded well, powering down again with his hand. Next break, he said, “I guess I’m going to have to go get that paddle.” I was already in transition, so I murmured, “I’ll get it for you.” And I did.

We were nearing the end. My legs were trembling, my feet were twisting together, I had my hand clamped over my mouth to muffle my reactions. I suddenly reached a point of breaking, and I blurted, “Oh my God, D, please, please, PLEASE!”

He stopped. Right in time. More would have been too much. He went exactly where I needed him to go.

I slumped to the floor, and he gathered me up into his arms, where I clung to him and trembled all over until he pulled me up and guided me to the couch. There, he soothed me, caressed me, whispered to me. “You let go of all the bad stuff, didn’t you,” he murmured. Oh, yes.

After I’d calmed down a bit, he asked for some lotion, and had me stretch out on the couch so he could massage my butt and lower back. I felt very comfortable stripping off my dress, and that massage was heaven, so comforting.

“Would you like some pictures, so people can see how red your butt is?” he asked. My first thought was, “It’ll be faded by now,” but I said sure. Yeahhhhh… turns out I was quite mistaken.

I was really surprised. And very pleased. “Remember — you asked for it!” he reminded me. I assured him I most certainly did, and I don’t regret a single swat of it. I needed that. I needed that so, so badly.

I put my dress back on, and we relaxed for a bit, eating some of the chocolate he’d brought, talking, and then he had to go. It was 7:15. I sent him off with warm hugs and thank you’s, texted John to let him know I was okay, straightened up the living room and took a shower. The rest of the night was floaty, spacey, in that surreal place. I did a little more work, answered email, and crashed in front of the TV. I was ravenously hungry and food tasted so good. And more chocolate.

This morning, I woke up to find a very sweet follow-up email, checking in on me, sharing his thoughts about our scene. I especially liked the sentence, “I thought this was a nice start.” The word “start” implies that there is going to be more, yes?

I don’t know what will happen and how we’ll work it. He lives close, but works far. He works two jobs. And I’m unavailable on weekends. So it might be challenging. But I am hoping he wants to play more as much as I do.

In a strange place today, emotionally. Still kind of floaty, but more focused. Very, very sore, but happily so. And feeling a bit of disbelief and unfamiliarity with the sense of well-being. I feel like I’ve been waiting for it for so long. What with the issues from last year, plus my shoulder and my back giving me trouble, I didn’t think I could ever feel really happy, really blissful again. I thought the two times with B were a fluke. Even yesterday, there was a niggling little part of my brain telling me that D might cancel. There’s always going to be that glass-half-empty side to my psyche, I’m afraid. I get something good and then wonder when it will go away, and how.  Enough of that for now, dammit. At this moment in time, I feel good. Some doors have closed, but finally, it seems windows are opening. John always says, “Stay in the day.” Hard to do sometimes, but he’s right. This day is all we have.

Have a great weekend, y’all.

Pre-party warm-up, Part 1 and 2

Before I get into anything else — yesterday was John’s and my 20th anniversary. We met on Friday, August 30, 1996… it’s been one hell of a twenty years, filled with love and loss and discovery and heartbreak and joy and all the things that make up a relationship. I love you, John. ♥

See my pretty anniversary roses?

So on to Part 1 — now that it’s done, I can talk about it. I shot video with Alex and Paul on Monday! Every time I think I’m retired, someone decides I’m not. 🙂 Another one of Alex’s clients wanted a custom video, but this one was much simpler and shorter, no script, and included the three of us. First time Alex and I have ever been spanked together on video, even though we’ve been friends for years. So much fun! Plus, since they had me there, they’d decided to shoot two more clips with me for Northern Spanking’s site. Alex’s long-time friend Rafi was handling the camera, so we were in good hands.

For the custom clip, Alex provided a dress for me, since she knew exactly what her client had in mind. For another, she gave me cute blue silk PJs, and for the third, I wore my own dress. All three scenarios were high-energy, and they were done quickly. I got there at 4:30, and we were done shooting three clips at 6:30! I hung out there until about 7:15; they were all going to dinner, but I regretfully had to pass on that, as I needed to get back home and do some work.

Sorry, no pictures yet, but I’m sure there will be some soon! Meanwhile, I got a nice warm-up for the party, what with Paul’s three hand spankings plus a nice little belt thrashing at the end of the third clip. I ♥ Alex and Paul!

Part 2 — yesterday, Steve came over for the first time in three weeks. We had planned it to be just a visit, no play, as I was short on time, plus he had pulled a back muscle backpacking the week before. However, as we sat on the couch chatting away and I got to talking about the shoot, I mentioned how Alex had taken a selfie of the two of us before I left. It was outdoors, and close up, and I hated how I looked in it. There she was, her face smooth and fresh and perfect… and then there I was, looking tired, with bags under my eyes. Ugh ugh ugh. I looked like her grandmother. Yes, people, I Photoshop my face pictures, a little. Mostly to wipe out the eye bags/crinkles; what can I say, I’m vain. But when I showed the photo to Steve, he scoffed and said he thought I looked beautiful. I pooh-poohed his compliment, said he was prejudiced, and he had a thing for old ladies.

His demeanor changed. “I want you over my knee, right now,” he said.

“Steve, your back!” I protested. “Come on.”

“Over my knee, right now,” he repeated.

“No!” I insisted.

“‘No’ is not an option. Now.”

He was serious. Well, how could I argue with that? He hates it when I put myself down.

Just a little taste, he said. To tide me over until Friday. Just enough for a little warmth and color.

(Ha! I’ve been editing books written by British authors and I almost typed “colour.”)

But I digress… (and no, this isn’t Photoshopped)

Off he went shortly thereafter and I was back to work. I’m finally catching up — I’m down to my last work assignment and should have that done by tonight.

So the countdown commences. Clearly, I am nervous. Last week, I had three red blotches on the left side of my face, along my jaw, and I thought something had bitten me. But this week, my right cheek has two more puffy red welts and there’s a third next to my right eyebrow. Stress hives… It’s so much fun being me, kids. I ran out last night to get some Zyrtec (antihistamine) and today the three blotches are red dots, so they should be okay by Friday. Meanwhile, my computer is straggling along — I’m having my hard drive replaced sometime after I get home — and my landline isn’t working, so I have to deal with AT&T after I get home as well. But all will melt away and disappear once we’re on our way to Vegas.

Off to the gym for my last pre-party workout, and then home to… what else… work! Happy Hump Day.