Wow. Just… wow

You know, you’d think I would have learned by now not to engage with people who are clearly ignorant and biased. But I still see people posting crap that perpetuates the worst of the clichés about our scene, and it makes me nuts. Where does this level of hate come from?

Yesterday on FetLife, Spanking Tube was being discussed (a man was considering posting his first video there), and a woman I do not know posted this:

[Spanking Tube] is built for those models who are not really into spanking and just into profit.
If you are looking for social status it will not happen because they all stick together and you’d be an outcast.
If you want to enroll with them then you have to do the porn industry stage, fake story, script thing that they are.

If you ever went to one of those annual parties you’d see it immediately it’s like they set up these fake school classroom settings for spanking then you go there and you are sitting with a bunch of people in class watching the famous spank each other like you are groupies.
Half of those dirty old men are pushing fentanyl and meth to the girls and driving them around in vans all day to perform (which is identical to porn).

Wow. What an indictment. I felt compelled to be a more measured voice here, so I answered her. No, I didn’t blast her. I was quite reasonable, as you can see.

Yes, there is that side of the video industry of which you speak. But that’s not the whole of it.
Plenty of people made videos because they love spanking and it brings them joy to do so. The producers and performers make money, yes. It’s their livelihood. But I don’t know anyone who ever did this purely for the money. The people I have known who did videos were spankos to the core.
Including me.

She then answered:

It’s a really big side though. A side that has taken over 90% of this network. social status and celebrity and competition takes the intimacy away. I just prefer everyone with the Jillian attitude.

Jillian? I could only assume she meant Jillian Keenan. Okay, so we had a bit of common ground. I thought maybe I could reason with her. I mean, come on. Ninety percent?? Where on earth was she getting this?

This was my next reply:

I feel compelled to speak up for many of the people I worked with over the years. There is a well-worn cliché about how we’re all stuck up and clique-y and we ruin things for everyone else. I hate to see that perpetuated. I’m not saying some of that element doesn’t exist. I’m saying 90% is unduly harsh. We do agree on this, however — I have all the admiration for Jillian and I’m one of her Patreon supporters. She is a brave and strong voice for us. And hey, I’ve done videos and I go to parties, but she likes me anyway, for whatever reason. 😉

I figured that last part would lighten things up a bit. I was mistaken. She then came back with this:

@Erica_Scott I went to one of those kingpin annual parties once and from experience I have a story of what goes on over there that is beyond shockingly different than a cliche. And some of those people involved are 200+ video famous and there were A LOT.
One day I’m going to tell that story here without names and it sure be an excellent reminder of the many of others who were trapped in the exact same cliche environment as I was. 90% is a pretty fair number. Bad people…. everywhere.

And I find it extremely hard to believe you never noticed and I find it extremely surprising the cops don’t ever rush in and arrest 50 at a time. but we’ll leave this story alone for a bit because I’m busy this month.

Jeeeezus. Hostile, much? And she was starting to get incoherent, so I gave up.

You know what bothers me the most? Clearly, she had a lousy experience at a spanking party, and that sucks. But why? I don’t know which one, and I don’t know any details. Just her raving about video people and how horrible we all are. And there was no swaying any of it, even with a measured and humorous approach. If you can’t discuss your feelings and experiences without hurling ad hominem attacks, then I can’t help you.

You know, I’ve seen this kind of shit for years. I even wrote this post about it nearly ten years ago. But it still hits me in the gut. Am I saying none of this kind of thing exists? Of course not. I’m not stupid and I’m not naive. But to paint everyone who is in this industry with the same broad paintbrush is appalling. And to spread this sort of thing to newcomers and people who are just getting up the courage to try their own first party and so forth is so freaking detrimental.

I’m not even in the damn industry anymore. But I still hate this. And I will still, while I have breath, fight the stereotypes and the mean-spiritedness. Yes. The scene is a double-edged sword. Always has been. It can bring the greatest of joys, and it can break your heart to smithereens. I have experienced both ends of the spectrum and everything in between. But it changed my life. It brought me things I’d never had before. Including all of you. And I will never lose sight of that.

Meanwhile… next time I try to reason with the unreasonable, y’all know what to do. rolling eyes

On my mind

Let’s start this with a few facts we all know.

I am outspoken and opinionated.
I am often snarky.
I don’t suffer fools, and if people screw with me (or my friends), I don’t hold back.

However. Despite what some may think, I do not revel in insulting people or hurting feelings. Not my thing, and not my intention.

A while back on Twitter, I said something flippant about a particular sexual/spanking position that I find deeply humiliating as well as impossibly uncomfortable, physically. I believe I said of all the NO positions, this one was the NO-iest.

Some people chimed in and agreed. It’s one of those things you love or you hate, I guess. But then I got called out for kink-shaming.

I was taken aback.

The first thing I did was check in with a good friend, whom I know happens to love the position in question. I asked her if she felt offended or shamed by my comment. Her reply: “Not at all. I know you don’t like it.” But yeah, she still feels comfortable in telling me about scenes where she’s experienced it, because she knows I’m happy for her pleasure and I’m not holding her in contempt for doing things that aren’t in my house of kinks.

Okay, so I felt marginally better. But this has been eating at me ever since.

Granted, speaking of houses of kinks, I’m well aware that mine is more of a studio apartment. I am basically vanilla with one very deep, dark and rich chocolate swirl. And I know I’ve said this many times before: I wish I had more kinks. I wish more things pushed my buttons. More fun! More variety! More people to play with and relate to! But we are who we are. I have managed over the years to find plenty of satisfaction within my limited kink base.

But does saying I don’t like this or that equate to telling others that they shouldn’t do it? That what they’re doing is wrong? I have never understood this.

If someone tells me that they don’t enjoy spanking, I don’t feel judged. If they say it makes them feel uncomfortable or childish or whatever, I don’t feel judged. Now if they were to say to me that it’s lame and stupid and babyish and that people look ridiculous engaging in it, yeah, I might bristle. But that’s a direct attack.

So what crosses the line between expressing a preference and kink-shaming? It seems the placement of that line differs greatly in various people’s opinions.

Is it because the topic of kink is so deeply personal? I mean, just as an experiment, let’s replace a kinky activity with a food.

I happen to hate avocado. (Yeah, yeah, I know. Everyone loves avocado, avocado is Food of the Gods, and I’m a freak.) Yes, I said it.

However, I did NOT say:
I hate avocado, and I think everyone who likes it is disgusting.
I hate avocado, and if any server even thinks about putting it on my food, I’ll have them fired. And then shot at sunrise.
I hate avocado, and you are dead to me if you disagree.

(Now don’t go quoting any of the above out of context. I can just see the reactions now: “Did you see what Erica Scott said about avocado?? What an idiotic bitch!”)

Sometimes, a preference is just that… a preference. Sometimes, saying I don’t like something means just that: I. Don’t. Like. It. I don’t mean it’s bad, you’re bad, it should be outlawed. Some things trigger and upset me. I think we all have those — kinks are deeply visceral for many of us and touch off many emotions. There are things I don’t want to see. That is on me. It’s not saying I want the activity eradicated.

A few years ago, on FetLife, I referred to myself as a “spanko purist,” because spanking is pretty much my sole fetish. I got ripped so many new ones over that, I could take a drink of water and look like a sprinkler. Jesus Christ… one person even likened me to Hitler. I didn’t mean it that way at all. I simply meant that my kink is singularly focused. Not that it’s superior. I mean, WTF?? Well… rest assured I do not use that term anymore. But I’ll never forget how ugly that situation felt.

Often on FetLife, people have referred to branching out into other kink activities as “evolving.” (sigh) I’ve been doing this for a long time. I tried a whole lot of things. I went to a lot of dungeon parties. I worked in a dungeon, for crying out loud. I participated in other types of kinks. I wore latex, participated in a slave auction, was in a bullwhip demo, you name it. But… call me un-evolved, I guess. Because spanking is it for me.

However, I never, ever want people to think I’m judging what they like, even when I make my snarky comments. Yes, I know, I’ve been known to say things like this: “You come anywhere near me with a bar of soap, you’ll be blowing bubbles out your ass.”
Or “If I were to get a tattoo, it would be on my lower back: An arrow pointing down, with the words EXIT ONLY. Don’t even think about going in there.”
Or “No, I don’t wear white panties. Last time I checked, I wasn’t five years old.”
This is me, being me. This is not me, judging you.

I would welcome thoughts on this. I would welcome civil discourse.

EDITED TO ADD THIS: I forgot that I also discussed this with John. I know that he will always speak the truth. He’s not one to blindly support me or say what I want to hear. And he said, “Maybe you should be more careful about how you express opinions.”

So, there it is.

I will never soften my stances on the important issues: politics, women’s rights, Covid cautionary measures, etc. Haters be damned.

But when it comes to kink and what floats everyone’s boat, I will try harder.

And I apologize to anyone I have inadvertently offended with my flippancy. It was not intended.

So, as I was saying…

Been a while. So where have I been?

Some people wrote to me to ask if I was okay (and thank you). I just needed to take a few steps back for a while and process some things.

I realize a lot of my readers aren’t in the national spanking community/party scene. I’ve been a part of it for 25 years and the parties/gatherings brought me untold joy. But I think that time may be over.

Last year, there was major upheaval on FetLife and other kinky social media sites. Several women had come forward with stories of consent violations and abuse. It started mostly with the focus on one man (someone I don’t know, BTW), and one by one, women were stepping up with what happened to them. But then it spread into a wave of accusations about party hosts, people who denied that this guy had done bad things, and people who enabled him to continue. More and more names came up, more and more people spoke up.

And then things took a turn. They went from honest and brave revelations of improper behavior to mass attacks and mob mentality. The anger was palpable, the words ugly. Friendships were ruined. A party organizer had to step down. Other organizers were blamed for this and that. And worst of all, it wasn’t enough to try to stay neutral, to hear both sides of all the stories. The outcries of “You’re either with us or against us” and “You people who are silent are supporting the perpetrators” were everywhere. If you didn’t hate so-and-so, you were part of the problem. If you went to such-and-such party anyway, you were enabling rapists. If you didn’t jump on the bandwagon and shove your pitchforks into the accused, you weren’t supporting the victims.

The pain and anger were real. My heart hurt for the people who had been traumatized. But the tarring and feathering blurred the lines. The hatred and finger-pointing tainted the original issues.

John said it would blow over after a while. It didn’t. There are many people I know who won’t go to parties anymore. Others won’t go to this one or that one because of so-and-so. There is such a negative pall over something that used to be so joyous for me.

The parties twice a year in Vegas were our go-to, because we could drive there, lots of our friends came, and we loved the hotel. But now our beloved hotel kicked us out; I have heard it was because of an incident that happened at one of the parties, but I can’t say for sure; I wasn’t there. Several of our friends are no longer going. And honestly, I think I’d rather remember the wonderfully happy time I had in February 2020 and end on that note. If someone starts a party here in Los Angeles, then we’ll consider that. But for now, I believe our national party days are behind us. I may change my mind, but we’ll see. It’s several months until Labor Day.

So. What with all the ugliness that went down, and all the information that was revealed, it was a great deal to process. I had to face some hard truths about the community I loved, about people I’d known for years. And honestly, it hurt like hell. I had to take some time to come to terms with new realities. And while I was doing so, I really didn’t feel like posting here. It felt like the same whine over and over and I figured it was enough already, and that I’d come back when I had something new to say.

By the way… what’s my take on all the stories of abuse incidents? I don’t have one. Because in every one of those instances, there’s one thing in common — I wasn’t there. I don’t know. I never will know. I have my thoughts. But that’s all they are — thoughts. Not facts. Some questions will never be answered. The old expression goes as follows: There are three versions of every story — Version A from one side, Version B from the other side, and the truth. And I just don’t have the wherewithal to sift through it all.

I dunno… I hope things get better. There is a core group of friends we only see twice a year. It makes me very sad to think about never seeing them again.

So yeah, I guess I’ve been “spankless.” But you know what? When you look at the big picture, all the terrible things happening right now, and how truly awful and mean-spirited some people are, there are worse things than being spankless.

Thoughtless.
Brainless.
Classless.
And so on. You get my drift.

And hey, all is not lost. I still get by with a little help from my friends. Like my pal Mr. Woodland, who came over last week. So good to see him! We spent several hours catching up. Of course, because it had been a while, I was de-conditioned, and started marking almost immediately. Within 20 minutes, he was looking at this:

He was concerned about those spots breaking, so we had to keep the scene relatively short. But it was quite intense nonetheless and left me feeling relaxed and happy.

And this Friday, my friend from Oregon will be in town! So I’ll be seeing him too. Always a wonderful time there.

So… there may not be any more party reports, sadly. Things have changed too much. Time will tell. Meanwhile, I’ll find what I need. Somehow, I always do.

I get by…

…with a little help from my friends.

Hey, that’s catchy. Someone ought to set that to music sometime.

This happened a couple of weeks ago, but due to what was going on in the country, I figured I’d postpone it for a while.

We all know the spanking scene is a mixed bag. But one of the things I’ve always loved over the years is the solidarity many of us share. We have each other’s back(sides). And sometimes, it’s not just about playful bratting or what have you. Sometimes, the subjects are serious.

About 3 1/2 years ago, a friend of mine wrote a post on FetLife. In it, she took a bold stance: she stated that she would not play with anyone who is a Trump supporter. She listed her reasons why; it was a well-written, detailed post, no name-calling, just stating her position and why.

As you can imagine, the comments flowed. Some were supportive. Some were neutral. And of course, many others were nasty. I felt like I wanted to do something to support her, so people would see she’s not alone in this stance.

So I posted this picture:

I said I was doing this in solidarity with [her name], and I made it my avatar. Aaaaand the comments rolled in. Most were supportive. But of course, some were nasty.

And then, much to my delight, the incomparable Michael Masterson posted this picture:

He captioned it with “In support of my girl Erica Scott, who has the courage to make her voice heard, I offer you this.” My comment? “I love you, Mike.”

(Sorry about the editing, but the pic was a bit too gynecological. I figured it took away from the message.)

Anyway, cut to the present. I decided it was time to dump the old avatar and put up a new picture. So I chose this one from the end of 2019 (because 2020 was sadly lacking in play).

What is it we FetLife veterans know? No matter what kind of picture you put up, some people aren’t going to like it. And some people won’t hesitate to let you know they don’t like it, and why. You’re wearing panties. You’re not wearing panties. You’re too heavy, you’re too thin, you’re too old, you’re too young, etc. etc. The picture is too graphic. The picture isn’t graphic enough. And of course, one of my favorites: if it shows the results of a spanking, you get the ‘I could have done a better job’ comments.

Sure enough, the picture wasn’t up five minutes when I got this right off the bat:

Not red or bruised enough… just saying. 😉 😉

Really?? And is the “wink, wink” supposed to make it okay?

I mean, come on. If you’re of the persuasion of preferring more graphicly walloped bottoms, you have thousands to choose from on FetLife. Knock yourself out. Go look at the pictures of butts that look like they were pounded with a meat cleaver and then thrown on a barbecue grill, and have a wank-fest. Why bother stopping to comment on mine if you don’t like it?

Sheesh. I hadn’t put up a new picture on Fet in ages, and right out of the gate, I hear from the basement critics. But I didn’t want to start a thing on FetLife, so I didn’t reply to the comment. However, I did go on Twitter and grouse about it, saying that I really wanted to answer, “Who the fuck asked you?” but I’d refrain.

Next thing I knew, my buddy Sarah (not Gregory; a different Sarah I’ve mentioned on here, she of the full-body tackle hugs at parties) tweeted to me: “Allow me… BRB.” And within a minute, I saw I had a notification on Fet of a new comment. I went to look, and nearly fell on the floor.

Below the guy’s comment, Sarah had typed:

[His name]: Who the fuck asked you? 😉 😉

But wait, there’s more: Within minutes, the guy commented back to her. I braced myself for some vitriol, figuring I’d have to step in at some point. But all he wrote was:

Good comment. 🙂

Well, how about that. I chose to interpret that as saying, “Yeahhhh, you’re right, I guess that was kind of a dumb thing to say.” No harm done. And the picture got a lot more attention after that. Sarah, you really do rock. 😀

Not that I spend much time on FetLife these days, anyway. I’m usually there to network about parties, or post about scenes I’ve had. And what with Covid, there’s been none of that. Still… it’s nice to know your friends still look out for you. ♥ I miss everyone so much. The February party has already been canceled, but we are hoping for Labor Day.

Final note: Regarding this week’s momentous occasion, I will say just one thing and then leave it alone.

Four years ago, my stepmother, then 85 and in poor health, was in complete despair over Trump’s presidency. She wrote to me: “I was born during one the country’s darkest times [the Great Depression], and I’m probably going to die during another one.” That broke my heart. I was afraid she wouldn’t stick around; that she’d get so despondent, she’d give up and stop fighting.

Yesterday, she emailed me and said, among other things, “After Biden’s speech, I broke down and sobbed like a child.” She’s now 89. But she’s still with me. She made it. She hung in there long enough to watch us all come out the other side. And I’m so very grateful. It sickened me to the core that the Honorable Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg didn’t live to see this, but damn, this sure helps soothe that pain.

That’s all, folks. Have a great weekend. Stay safe.

Another Curious Cat question (plus some Spanking 101)

I enjoy the Curious Cat app where people can anonymously ask others questions. Sometimes, I get some really interesting, thought-provoking stuff. (Other times, not so much. But I digress.) Last week, I received this question:

When my husband paddles my bottom, he likes to constantly change the speed, location, and hardness of the whacks. He says he does that to hold my attention. I say no fair. What do you think?

Wellllllllll… you’re gonna hate me for this, honey. And I’ll agree, it’s not fair. But count your blessings with this one. At least your husband is trying to keep it stimulating and varied. Do you really need to know everything that’s coming, down to every last swat? (Honestly, I don’t. I like the element of surprise in my play — keeps it interesting.) I mean, would you really want what I call a “metronome spanking”?

For those who never had endless music lessons, a metronome is a device that keeps time and tempo. Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

Therefore, a metronome spanking is repetitive. Back and forth. Back and forth. Right. Left. Right. Left. Over and over and over. Same spot. Same tempo. Same intensity. Same…. Zzzzzzz.

If you ever find yourself on the receiving end of one of these, I suggest you grab the nearest reading material. Perhaps mentally plan your grocery list. Or find a patch of wet paint and watch it dry. Because a metronome spanking is a total. Fucking. BORE.

And there’s really no excuse for a spanking to be boring. All it takes is a little imagination. Change it up a bit. It’s not that difficult. Use different speeds and strengths. Maybe a flurry on one side, then the other, instead of the usual back and forth. And for heaven’s sake, don’t hit the same central spot on each cheek over and over. Move it around.

Yeah, I know — that part gets a bit scary. There are many spots to avoid. You don’t want to hit too high, and you don’t want to wrap out to the sides. But the butt has plenty of real estate, even ones on the smaller side like mine. You can vary the coverage greatly and keep your bottom guessing.

And yes, there is the territory directly under the butt — the sweet spot, AKA the sit spot. The place you feel when you sit the next day. How far down that goes is up to the individual players. Some people keep it to just an inch or so, the juncture where ass connects to thigh. Others wander down a bit, covering upper thighs. This is where it gets tricky. Generally, this hurts a lot more, and you can probably use a lighter smack there. And the lower you go, the more painful it tends to be. I daresay that if you strike someone’s mid-thigh as hard as you strike their bottom, you might get your eardrums blown out with their scream. So do use some common sense.

I would say this picture represents good full bottom coverage. Notice it doesn’t go too far out to the sides, no wrapping around the hip. And how even it is.

And if it goes a bit further below the butt, that’s acceptable too. Again, know your play partner.

I’m not going to get into hitting other places. Because — to me — that isn’t spanking. Slapping breasts and genitals? Not spanking. Caning calves? Not spanking. I don’t like being struck anywhere but on the butt and upper-upper thighs, but to each their own. Many years ago, I was in the middle of a scene with a partner who usually could read my body like a book. But for whatever reason that night, he had a brain freeze and decided to strike the soles of my bare feet with something or another. Yeah… I came this close to ending the scene. I also came this close to kicking backward and launching his sinuses out the back of his head. Don’t hit stuff that usually isn’t hit unless you have a partner’s consent! I’m not saying “No edge play.” I’m just saying don’t spring it on someone unless you know they welcome that sort of thing. Or are at least open to it.

I have a love/hate thing with upper thigh spanking. Being spanked on the sweet spot is intense and I do like the feeling of it when I’m sitting later. But going further down can mark like hell and I am ambivalent about it. Sometimes I think it’s hot and other times the marks horrify me. I suppose, for me, a little of it goes a long way.

Perhaps it’s summed up best to say I don’t always want to look like this. Maybe once in a while, from someone I trust. And with a lot of aftercare.

(The second picture was taken two days after a thigh-intensive spanking. Note that my bottom is completely pristine, while my thighs retained the impression a lot longer.)

So to my anonymous Curious Cat friend, forgive me. But please do go give your husband a hug and a kiss. Because as dastardly as he is, trust me — a spanking that keeps you guessing is much better than one that puts you to sleep. 😉

Some things never change

No matter how many years you spend in TTWD, no matter how many experiences you have, how many things you try, how carefully you hone your own personal interpretation of your chosen kink to where it is fulfilling and joyous… there’s always going to be some nitwit out there telling you you’re doing it wrong.

A few years ago when I was playing regularly with He-Who-Is-No-Longer-In-The-Picture, we used to shoot a lot of goofy videos of our play, some of which I posted on Spanking Tube. One especially popular one was when I’d written a spanking parody of the Beatles song “If I Fell,” and he made me sing it on video — while being spanked.

I still get occasional comments on that one, positive ones saying that it was funny and entertaining. And then yesterday I got this — verbatim, poor grammar and missing punctuation intact:

A spanking not supposed to be fun its supposed to make her correct her bad behavior

Oh, yeah? Says you, illiterate one. Although you’re probably right in one respect: I doubt that spanking or any other kind of kink play is fun when you’re involved.

Who the hell are you, or anyone else, to say what spanking is “supposed” to be? Who are you to deny the unbridled joy that some of us feel indulging in a favorite pastime and fulfilling our desires? Spanking — and all other forms of kink/BDSM/what have you — means myriad things to countless people. There is no “supposed to.” There is no “one true way.” And to impose your rigid (and unsolicited) view and dump on someone else’s pleasure is most unwelcome.

Just a reminder, to anyone out there reading who is new to all this: Don’t let others tell you how you’re supposed to do this thing. Discover for yourself, through trial and error, through following your instincts, what works for you. If it’s discipline, great. If it’s for fun, that’s also great. If it’s a complex mix of the two, have at it. What pushes your buttons and brings you floaty joy, as long as it involves consenting adults, is what it’s supposed to be.

Tell you what, stupid stranger. I’ll go on doing my thing the way I like doing it; if that’s “bad behavior,” oh, well. Report me to the kink police, why don’t you. Or better yet, why don’t you work on correcting your bad grammar and mind your own fucking business, hmmm?

We now return you to your regularly scheduled Monday. Today, it is cold, dark and rainy outside. I have my heater running, warm clothes on, a full fridge, classical music serenely playing in the background, and plenty of work to keep me busy. I don’t have to go anywhere; I can work out in the apartment gym if I want to. I am safe and insulated and at peace in my little bubble.

I know the rain will end, outside life will encroach, and I will need to leave my bubble and re-enter a world that feels ugly and unkind to me. But for this moment, I wish I could stay in here forever.