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 “spanking scene”

Oh, FFS…

So I told you guys before about CuriousCat and how people can ask anonymous questions there. Most of the time, it’s quite harmless. Maybe some questions are repetitive or presumptuous, but they can also be quite thoughtful and fun to answer.

However, it seems I have myself a troll of sorts on there. Someone who keeps posting unpleasant questions and comments about “DrLectr” (AKA Joe, the gentleman who organizes 50 Freaks and has now taken over Shadow Lodge parties, whenever we can have parties again). I don’t know why this person has dragged me into things; I guess he has seen that Joe and I are friends. But he clearly has an ax to grind and I don’t know just what the hell I’m supposed to do about it.

So, I’ve ignored him. Tried to reason with him. But he just keeps coming back. And yesterday, he posted a series a questions that are so wrong in so many ways, I felt the need to address them in a blog post. You want attention, buddy? You got it. Still not sure what the hell you want from me, though. But you asked, so I’m answering. And to my nice loyal readers, sorry you get to be dragged into this, but such is online BS sometimes.

Why are you and the other shadowlaners and hookers/models such pariahs and bullies to anyone who disagrees with you? Do you wonder why new comers don’t come back as much or at all? You think newbies who are nervous like being looked down upon by you and drlectr’s entourage and the models/hookers hustling all the men? Do you think newbie females like being on drlectr’s entourage’s menu and if they say no they are run off by them and you?

 

Which brings me to my first question: What the hell is wrong with you? I mean… really? We’re in the middle of a damn pandemic, thousands of people are dead, thousands more are unemployed, people are losing everything, there’s no end in sight, and we’re in the hands of a madman… and this is what you’re fixated on? Why would you even care about something like this now? Don’t you have anything else with which to concern yourself?

Clearly not. All right, fine. I’ll address each one of your points separately, and then hopefully we can be done with this. Also, I am speaking strictly for myself, not for DrLectr. I could defend Joe until I’m blue in the face, but you won’t listen to me. And I’m not going to presume to answer these questions for him. But I can certainly answer them for me.

Contrary to what you and some others may believe, I do not bully people who disagree with me. If people are civil and polite, don’t get in my face, insult me, speak condescendingly, etc., I am civil in return. I can agree to disagree. But yeah… if you give me a hard time, I’m damn well giving you one back. Or, worse, if you give any of my friends a hard time.

Here are a couple of examples, both from Facebook. On my own feed, I posted something political. I realize not everyone subscribes to my political leanings, but I figure on Facebook, if you don’t want to read something, you move on to something else. You don’t charge onto someone else’s page and get in their face. However, some clown who is a complete stranger to me came on and said that I and a friend of mine were “stuipd [sic] Communists and should stick it where the sun don’t shine.” Excuse me? I suppose I could have deleted it, but it really irked me — who asked him?? So I replied “Oh, noooo… [my friend’s name], did you hear that? We’re ‘stuipd’! Scram, fool. Nobody asked you to post here.”

Is that bullying, when he instigated it? I’m thinking not. If someone punches me in the face, I’m not going to smile, offer up my face again and tell them they missed a spot.

Another example — this wasn’t on my page, but a friend’s. Again, a political post. One of my friends got into it with a Trumpite who was insulting him left, right, and sideways, in a very ugly, personal way. Calling him a “whiny Jew boy” and a “pussy who probably got beat up all the time in school.” I saw red. Being Jewish myself, when people drag antisemitism into things, I really get pissed off. I looked at this guy’s profile. He had a girl’s name. 

So I came on and replied to the “pussy who got beat up” comment: “So says the man with a girl’s name. Projecting much, you Nazi fucktard?”

He didn’t reply. I have zero regrets and give zero fucks. No one talks to my friends like that. Would I have barged onto the page and said that on my own? No. I need a reason. Someone has to push me into it. It has nothing to do with whether or not I agree with you. It’s how you present your opinion. Your respect gets mine.

I’ve had haters say my Correspondence Hall of Shame is bullying. Um, no, it is not. I only highlight people who are rude and presumptuous, and I never identify them. As I’ve said a bazillion times, if someone writes me something that is nice, that is thoughtful, that is polite, but they don’t spell everything correctly, I am not going to poke fun at them. But hey, if they’re rude first? All bets are off.

Next — newcomers don’t come back? I beg to differ. There are more people going to parties now, not fewer. I have been going to parties for 23 years, and I remember how it was to be new. Nervous? Hell, I still get nervous going to these things. I have made a point over the years, especially after I started doing videos and had somewhat of a scene presence, to welcome new people, to be friendly. I have had many people tell me how helpful I was to them when they were new. And I don’t do a quarter of the stuff DrLectr does — hosting, planning, arranging, trying to make people happy.

And this “models/hookers” shit needs to go already. What the hell do you have against the women in the spanking video industry? Is it because you probably made such a bad impression on the ones you met that they wanted nothing further to do with you? News flash, pal: just because someone works in the industry doesn’t mean they are public domain at a party. You cannot demand their time any more than you can demand anyone’s time. They don’t owe you anything. And, like with every other person, if you are respectful and nice, they will be respectful and nice back. You don’t get to be rude and then cry “cliques! hookers!” when they respond in kind.

So knock it off with the sour grapes bullshit. I can taste them all the way over here. You want to be treated well? Be the person you would like others to be to you. And that does not include throwing anonymous potshots and insults at others from behind your computer screen.

I really don’t know why you assume I’m in the inner circle of everything and I know who did what to whom and why and all the dramas. I am not. I was out of the public scene for an entire year, and only just put my toe back into it this year. I’ve been to exactly one party in 2020 and haven’t socialized with any scene friends since February. I rarely go on FetLife. When I do go to a party, I don’t know half the people there. I’m retired from shooting videos. I. Am. Not. That. Involved.

Are Joe and I friends? Yes, indeed we are. I have known him for several years and he has never been anything but respectful and kind to me. I have enjoyed many scenes with him, and several years of his party hospitality, and I know many others who can say the same. He and his girlfriend recently contributed to a wonderful group birthday present for me, and I have seen him start many GoFundMe efforts over the years for scene people who were sick or had financial troubles. Joe has a lot of friends. If you want to call that an “entourage,” I can’t stop you. All I can say is I belong to no entourage.

If you have an issue with me, then say so and be direct about it. But if you have an issue with Joe, for fuck’s sake, talk to Joe! Why do you keep pulling me into your drama? Joe doesn’t answer to me. I am not Joe’s keeper. I don’t have any control over anyone but myself. I don’t know why you think I have so much power in this scene, but you couldn’t be more wrong.

I do not “run people off.” My friends do not “hustle” others. Again, this argument is so old, and so wrong, and yet it keeps perpetuating, thanks to ignorant people with bad attitudes. The spanking models are not at parties to make your life and your time there miserable. They are paying guests. They are working guests. They are shooting, juggling sessions, and trying to have time to spend with friends as well. They have stresses and insecurities and tire out like everyone else. They are people, not cardboard cutouts for you to objectify. They have feelings.

Sure, I don’t like everyone in the scene. I don’t like everyone at parties. So? Everyone doesn’t like me, either. If someone is a known abuser from several sources I trust, or someone I have personal bad experience with, that’s one thing. But if I don’t like someone? I don’t try to ruin their time, or ruin their reputation. I just spend time elsewhere, with people I want to be with. I really don’t think that makes me a snob or an elitist or part of a some nefarious entourage.

Life’s too short to spend time doing things that don’t make you happy or fulfilled in some way. That’s why I can’t understand why people who can’t stand my blog read it anyway. Why bother? I don’t read blogs I hate! I also don’t watch TV shows I don’t like, read books I don’t like, eat food I don’t like, and so on and on. You get my point. I hate cottage cheese. So I don’t buy it and I don’t eat it. Wouldn’t it really be asinine of me if I ate it anyway and then complained bitterly about it? So the same logic follows with people. If I don’t care for them, I don’t go out of my way to interact negatively with them. I ignore them as best I can, unless they really poke at me. (Snarking on Twitter doesn’t count. Everyone snarks on Twitter.)

Speaking of not having power over others — I don’t have any power over you, either. If you want to go on with this childish nonsense, I can’t stop you. But I suggest you seek some professional help for your rage/resentment issues, and for crying out loud, stop hiding in your little cyber tower with your little sniper rifle. You can hate and blame others all you want, but it’s about as pointless as drinking poison and hoping someone else dies. Just. Fucking. Stop. You’re making a fool of yourself, and you’re changing absolutely nothing.

(deep breath) The rest of you — take care and have a good weekend. Stay safe. ♥

Know your audience

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

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

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

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

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

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

Good lord. Pass me the barf bag.

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

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

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

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

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

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

All right.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

Happy 2020

Happy New Year, everyone. I hope everyone had safe, happy and healthy holidays. Mine were quiet, exactly as I wanted them. Now it’s time to get back into work mode.

Also, it’s time for a fresh start, to dip my toes tentatively back into the scheme of things. I can’t believe it’s been nearly a year since I wrote Notes on the Scene. Back then, I was coming from a place of sadness, hurt and disillusionment. Now, after coming out the other side of an ocean of tears, I think I’m more in a place of clarity. This past year opened my eyes to many things, and I will never again look upon the kink scene as I once did. However, I feel like I can now start to take back what’s good, and leave the rest.

To that end, I reactivated my FetLife account after being off for eleven months. And I plan to go to 50 Freaks in Vegas at the end of February, after a year off from parties. It’s a scary prospect, going back, but there are people I look forward to seeing. As for local play partners, the search continues. But I am hopeful.

For everyone out there reading this who is having a hard time, please hang in there. This time last year, I was going to bed each night and wishing I wouldn’t wake up. But the worst of it seems to have passed. There is a flip side to the darkness. And once again, I recall this expression of hope and comfort: May the depth of your despair be the height of your joy.

So, here’s to a new year, to new beginnings. Because I want to come out from under the covers and get back into this part of who I am. To bring some color back into my life.

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Cheers. ♥

Notes on The Scene

You might want to settle in with your refreshing beverage of choice for this one, as it’s really freaking long.

Recently, someone I’m very fond of, and who is quite prominent in the spanking scene, wrote a piece about the scene and where he feels he stands in it, in particular the large national parties. Lest people accuse me of name-dropping (“oooh, she’s friends with him“), I won’t say who it is. But his post was honest and brave, and it gave me the courage and impetus to do some reflecting of my own.

I have stated, time and again, that throughout life, I have felt like this photo:

brickdoesnotfit

The piece that doesn’t fit. The square peg in a round world. Or, as I once heard in a 12-step meeting: “I feel like I’m trespassing on the planet.” Different. Weird. Etc. Throw kinkiness into the mix and you really get the stench of otherness.

I’ve also often said that navigating the scene is like dancing on a double-edged sword. On one side, you have infinite potential for belonging, for acceptance, for connecting with others. For personal fulfillment. For expressing your truest self. But misstep, and that sword can hurt you. Sometimes it’s little cuts that bleed, and leave tiny scars that no one sees but you. And other times, it can outright disembowel you.

The scene is loving. The scene is fickle. It is kind. It is brutal. The scene gives. The scene takes away.

I’ve seen so much in my scene years. Some of it has happened to me, and some things have happened to others. I’ve been loved, hated, accepted, misunderstood, put up on a pedestal, knocked back off it, immortalized on film and in cartoons, stalked, cat-fished, supported, betrayed, judged, defended. I’ve hit the highest highs and the lowest lows, and everything in between.

Just a few random things I’ve borne witness to over the years, that touched me deeply:

When a long-time party-goer had a massive heart attack and nearly died, he ended up in an extended hospital stay, unable to pay his mortgage and his bills. A GoFundMe was set up for him — contributions came pouring in. I believe they ended up with $15-20,000. He survived.

When a young woman mentioned on FetLife that she had a birthday party and no one showed up, a surprise party was arranged for her at one of the national gatherings. When she walked into the room and everyone cheered, she actually turned around, looking for who was being greeted. Then realization dawned, and she burst into tears.

When a woman had devastating losses from a fire, a GoFundMe was set up for her as well. Many came through for her.

A long-time host of room parties, who had been absent for years due to illness, came to his first party in years with his wife. They were given a tribute, complete with speakers (I was one of them) and an award. It was a beautiful recognition of a great scene contributor. Not too long after that, he passed away from cancer.

When a young woman came to her first party, not knowing anyone and having only connected online with a few people on FetLife, the enormity of it all, the noise, the crush of bodies overwhelmed her. The first night, she left the party room in tears. The party might have ended for her there, had it not been for a dear friend of mine intercepting her in the hallway. He pulled her into his room, let her cry, gave her a pep talk. She calmed down and regained her composure, took a break, then went back to the party. Later that weekend, I saw the same woman happily, joyously playing, right in the midst of the main party room.

When a beloved scene member nearly died giving birth to twins and then one of them tragically didn’t make it, a beautiful soul took up a collection to buy the shell-shocked couple a ton of essentials — everything from diapers to formula to clothes — plus a cleaning service and a subscription to Netflix for distraction.

Countless displays of welcome, of support, of love. The more I think about this, the more incidents I come up with. But of course, there is the other side.

I’ve seen relationships form, then crash and burn. I’ve seen countless emotional meltdowns at parties, including several of my own. I’ve seen friendships dissolve, jealousies flare, hurts inflicted. People who put out their time, money and efforts to open their hotel suites to everyone at parties get criticized and picked apart by those who consider themselves entitled to everything they want at someone else’s expense. I read an account of someone who welcomed everyone in their suite for several days/nights at a national party — and then was thoroughly reamed for having the audacity to restrict their suite to friends only on the final night. That’s just one story of many. I have witnessed people being systemically and cruelly shunned from groups. This one hates that one; so-and-so violated so-and-so; stay away from that guy; don’t talk to this woman. Battle lines are drawn; gossip runs rampant. Granted, if someone is a genuine hot mess, a violator, a predator, etc., with accounts from many to back up the concerns, that’s one thing; friends should be warned and safety should be paramount. But sometimes, good people who cross the wrong individuals can find they become pariahs in short order.

The scene can foster closeness and special relationships, but it also provides a sort of pseudo-intimacy. We are in close proximity, we bare our body parts before we even learn each other’s real names, we engage in intimate activity. We are emotionally invested and vulnerable. We open fully and trust quickly. But sometimes, it simply isn’t real. And when reality does hit, it hurts worse. Because we’ve invested so much of ourselves. Not just our bodies, but our hearts and souls.

I have watched people rally and rise above bad times to eventually prevail. And I have seen people disappear, burned out or driven away. The trouble with being too close to the scene is it’s like a personal house of cards. The loss of a key card can cause the whole thing to come down for you. And although you know logically that there are other components of life, at the moment of that crash, it can feel like your entire world is crashing. Your source of support. Your place of belonging.

There have been many ups and downs for me over the years, navigating this scene. Luckily, I was spared the tumult of multiple relationships, of breakups, of having to see exes at gatherings, because I have been with John the entire time. A couple of times, I came very close to dropping out. When I thought I was done shooting because one company didn’t want me, I felt like a has-been and like my time was done. It was the first time I became aware of the fickleness of the scene, how much is about the newest hot young thing. However, I was able to work through that, with the help of a much beloved friend (thank you again, Danny)… and went on to shoot with several other companies for another ten years. I beat the odds, over and over.

Well-placed gossip can destroy someone in this scene. Roughly fifteen years ago, a woman accused me of trying to sabotage her relationship and steal her boyfriend. Ridiculous, since I had John. The man in question had been my play partner, she had been my friend, but when she began dating him, suddenly I became the enemy. Not only was he not to play with me anymore, he wasn’t to communicate with me at all. I don’t know where this jealousy and paranoia came from. I consider myself the least threatening woman on earth, hardly a femme fatale. I was older than her, and not nearly as striking.

Seems like this sort of thing is no big deal, right? Unfortunately, she happened to be a well loved icon of videos — definitely a case of “boys want to meet her, girls want to be her.” And she was telling anyone who would listen to her that I was a relationship wrecker. I lost friends. I was put in the awful state of wondering who was saying what about me and to whom. Or, even worse, having damning words come directly back to me, like the time a friend told me she’d been admonished in no uncertain terms by another that she should “sever all ties with Erica.”

I was devastated and thought I was done. But somehow, with support, I made it through that too. She sabotaged her own relationship, it ended without any of my involvement, and she eventually disappeared. Friends who had believed her ended up apologizing to me (including the “sever all ties” person). It was an ugly and painful time, and I think that came the closest to driving me out. (Please, no guesses. And no, it was not Samantha Woodley.)

But I was younger then. I had time on my side. I could ride it out, even though it seemed impossible at the time. Because there was a greater good. There was something to fight for, to persevere for.

Humans are resilient beings. We have to be. There is so much in life that is devastating and inevitable. Death. Illness. Crushing losses. And then there is the suffering that shouldn’t be inevitable, but it is: the pain from the careless cruelty and indifference of fellow humans.

We are able to move past and survive a whole lot of grief and loss, recover from disappointments, rise above life’s meanness. But I think everyone has a breaking point. Everyone has that one last straw, the one where they realize something has to change. Something has to give… or something has to go.

I am reminded of a woman I knew in the scene many years ago. She, along with her play partner and friend, hosted many room parties at Shadow Lane and was one of the organizers of a spanking group in her hometown. She was someone who had been through her share of pain in life; prolonged illness and death of her first husband with no support from his family, raising two children alone, addiction. But now her kids were older, she’d fallen in love and married again, and it seemed that life was finally going to turn around.

Until she was hit with not one, but two unspeakable betrayals from people she trusted. I will not elaborate on what happened or who was involved, only that the incidents were scene-related. They were her final straw. She withdrew from the groups, disappeared from the online boards. I stopped hearing from her; she lived in another state, so it wasn’t like I could go for coffee or lunch and hang out with her.

She died from acute liver failure at age 50, drinking herself to death.

No, I’m not going to drink myself to death. Or anything myself to death. But I think I’ve experienced my last straw as well. And I don’t think I’m going to get past this one. Unlike with the others, time is not on my side. I know I harp about my age a lot, but this statement has never been more true: I really am too old for this shit. I’m already dealing with a lot of insecurity about the changes in my body, my face. And now that I feel like my confidence, sense of kinship, and trust have disappeared, that’s simply too much to cope with. I can’t put the face on anymore. I don’t want to be seen. When I look in the mirror, the face that gazes back at me looks pale and lifeless.

50 Freaks was this past weekend. This is the first time since this party was conceived that we’ve missed one. The decision was painful and I’ve shed copious tears over it. I hope Joe will understand and forgive me; it had absolutely nothing to do with him. But I simply couldn’t do it. And interwoven with all the sadness and regret was a feeling of relief. All the prep of getting there felt overwhelming and exhausting. I’ve never liked that part; I’ve always found it stressful. But I also always knew there was great joy and welcoming and fun and play and escape on the other side. Now… that has been tainted.

It snowed in Vegas, a rare occurrence. Several flights were canceled. I told myself, meh, it would have been a hassle driving in it (I read about road closures and other traffic nightmares), it would have been freezing, I’d have to bring a ton of heavy clothes, and who feels sexy and spanky when they’re bundled up like an Eskimo? But of course, I knew that was ridiculous. We’d be in a hotel, not in a freaking tent. In our room, we could turn on the heat. In the party room, all the bodies would keep things plenty warm. So that was just a rationale.

God damn, I miss play. So much. Part of me is yearning, fully, bodily, emotionally, to lose myself in the pain, to be spanked to tears, to feel those incomparable endorphins cleanse me. But I don’t know where that is to be found right now. I don’t know who I can trust with it. In case you’re wondering whatever happened to Mr. Woodland — he is not gone. He is great and I would unquestionably scene with him. However, he is very busy dealing with Life at this time and not available.

And more than play, I miss the connection. I miss the bubble of parties, the complete immersion into an altered state for a while. A few days of respite from reality. The hugs. The laughs. I miss the me I was at these events. I don’t know if she’ll ever come back.

I am and will always be a spanko. I just don’t know what my outlets will be now. And like I said, it doesn’t seem like time is on my side. I feel a profound emptiness, a sense of loss. I suppose, like everything else, I just have to let it be there and wait to see what’s ahead.

By the way, the absurdity of this post doesn’t escape me. I can hear people out there thinking, “Oh, boo-hoo, you little snowflake victim. First World Problems. Get over yourself.” One friend I know is dealing with her mother’s terminal cancer. Another lost both her parents within seven weeks at the end of last year. Others are dealing with physical ailments, money worries, dying pets, relationship issues, and life’s other assorted crises and grievous situations.

Right now, John’s health is stable. I am working. I love my quiet, safe apartment. I am lucky enough to live in a strong, progressive and enlightened state during these terrifying times. I don’t wish to minimize any of the good things I’m grateful for. However, this is one of the worst and most long-lasting depressions I’ve had in years. And it is about more than just parties and playing. It’s about feeling like I’m losing a piece of myself. John says I am going through an existential crisis. He’s not one given to exaggeration, although I think this phrase sounds melodramatic. But perhaps I am. I’m questioning everything and everyone, including myself.

They say depression is anger turned inward. I am angry. More than anything, I am angry at myself. I allowed my power to be taken from me, let harsh words break me. I should be stronger than that. But I guess it’s that last straw thing again. Sometimes our well of strength runs dry. I don’t have it in me to go through another episode of wondering who’s saying what to whom. It’s soul-sucking.

I was told, among other things, that I use my depression like a shield, so people will feel sorry for me and not hold me accountable for my actions. That is the lowest of the low blows, cruel, and untrue. I hold myself accountable for my actions. When I fuck up, I say so. No one is harder on me than I am. But if one person believes this of me, then surely others do too. There are flawed humans, as we all are, and then there are those who cross the line and are fatally flawed. I’m not sure which side of the line I’m on… or am considered to be.

I stayed off social media this past weekend. John did his best to keep me distracted, taking me to see a movie, joking and being silly. It was a strange, surreal feeling all weekend, knowing what was going on and not being there. Wondering how everyone was doing. Who made it, and who got held up by the inclement weather. Who played with whom. Two of my favorite people there recently married; I hope they got lots of attention. What dramas occurred, because they always do. Would they have been mine, or someone else’s?

Since our going missing from the party, John has received one text, and I’ve received two messages, asking if we’re okay… and that’s it. Ouch. Humbling indeed. 😦 “It’s not personal,” John said. “People just have short attention spans.” I like his kinder, gentler take on it, rather than mine — that my reputation has been damaged, and people are staying away. Or, even worse, that no one cared all that much to begin with. Out of sight, out of mind. We’re all just faces in the crowd. (Or asses, in this case.)

So no party report, I’m afraid. May not be much of anything from me, at least for a while. I will always love the spanking scene, sharp edges and all, and love some very special people in it. I’ll always be grateful for what it gave to me. I just don’t know if I can be part of it anymore. Or if it even wants me to be.

John has done all he can to assure me that I am indeed lovable, that I matter. He told me that I make his life worth living, every single day. The same goes for you, my beloved fellow misfit. I love you with all my heart.

Carry on, kids.

And so it goes

Hello, everyone. Sorry for the absence.

After much thought, going back and forth, changing my mind and then back again, I have decided it’s time to bring this blog to an end.

I have been in the spanking scene for twenty-one years this month, and online for nineteen. I have watched many changes in what became known as social media. In the early days for spanking chat and exploration, there were what was known as newsgroups, and various chat rooms. Often the latter devolved into a bunch of silly cyber spanking, but one could find intelligent conversation if one looked carefully. Then, around 2000, give or take a year, those gave way to chat forums, such as those on MSN and Yahoo, the old Shadow Lane chat board, etc. People posted and chatted and shared and connected. I co-managed a successful forum for a few years and had a blast.

When the forums began to run their course, they were overtaken by a new phenomenon: the spanking blog. Soon, everyone and their second cousin twice removed was blogging. I joined this bandwagon in 2005, on what used to be the hopping place (!): MySpace. My blog there straggled along for a while, trying to find its audience, but there was so much competition. But then two things happened. One, I was listed by our blog queen, Bonnie, who made a point of spotlighting new blogs in her “In With the New” column. Things really picked up for me after that, but I still had a second holy grail to achieve. The buzz in the blogosphere was about a gentleman who went by the name of Chross, who had a weekly list of what he considered the most notable blog posts. If one was lucky enough to be “Chrossed,” they would be treated to a highly gratifying spike in blog hits. But how did one get on Chross’s radar, I wondered? I finally grew so frustrated that I wrote a post called “Who Do I Have to @#$% to Get on Chross’s List?” Apparently, that got his attention. 🙂

After that, wow. Views, comments, etc. skyrocketed. Until MySpace died, and I took the plunge and started a new blog on Blogger in 2010. I flourished there for years, getting Chrossed often, sharing adventures and party stories and photos and scenes and video shoots, as well as bits and pieces of my personal life. When Blogger threatened to censor or shut down all their “adult” blogs, I migrated to WordPress. Turns out it wasn’t necessary, since Blogger backed off, but I don’t regret it.

However, things changed yet again. Slowly but surely, the spanking blog was overtaken by the Tumblr blogs: pictures. Lots and lots and lots of pictures. The lengthy blog entry morphed into quickie sound bites, gifs and jpegs. Comments became likes and reposts. The spanking models, who all used to blog, now opened Tumblr accounts. Twitter came to be, and now, instead of writing party and shoot reports, people tweeted the action as it was happening. There were some exceptions who maintained their popularity (Hermione and Ronnie come to mind, as well as some of the DD/Hoh blogs and some author blogs) but it seemed that overall, the traditional written spanking blog had gone the way of the VCR and the variety show.

Even so, I figured as long as I had stories to tell, experiences to share, connections to make, I’d have an audience. For quite a while, my views remained high thanks to being Chrossed often. But now, it seems even our beloved Chross has given up the ghost. And the annual Spanking Blogg Awards, put together by John Osborne of Triple A, finally eliminated the Best Creative Blogger category last year because it wasn’t getting any nominations. I was lucky enough to win second place in 2015, that award’s final year.

myaward

After many years and thousand of words, kids, I’m fresh out of things to say. On topic, anyway. I don’t want to hash and rehash the same discussions; there’s FetLife for that. Scene-wise, things have changed for me. I no longer have a top, and I haven’t played since 50 Freaks in February. I go to two parties a year. I do not shoot anymore, and even if someone were to offer it up, I’m not sure I would do it. I don’t enjoy looking at myself on film anymore — those HD cameras are not kind! And as for my personal life, I have been dealing with a great deal of grief and challenges over the past few months, including an ongoing situation with John that is stressful and scary. But you know, I don’t want to go into that on here anymore either. I have ranted, raved, wept, opened up and laid myself bare (physically and emotionally) in these posts over the years. I think it’s time for that to end. Everyone has problems; they don’t want to hear mine. And if I can’t post on-topic fun stuff, there’s really no point in continuing.

Also, I made the mistake, in a time of weakness, of writing political posts on here. Please. Can we all agree that there’s enough of that shit out there everywhere you look? I mean, really — using a spanking blog, of all things, to push one’s political agenda is arrogant, self-serving and a big waste of time, don’t you think? So I do apologize for that bit of foolishness.

I am not taking this blog down. I want to preserve it, because I’m proud of it. I would like people to be able to refer back to it, reread posts they liked, enjoy the pictures, etc. My life, my heart and my soul are in these pages. So it will remain intact, even though I won’t be adding to it any longer. I will always be grateful for my readers, all the comments, all the feedback. Without you guys, we writers might as well be talking to ourselves. And hey, I even appreciate those hapless dumbasses who gave me so much wonderful CHoS fodder. One more for the road? Sure, why not…

Hi I would like to spanking you hardly but it is turning me on and in the end which will be not short time I would like to have sex or atleast blowjob becouse I don’t want go away horny and I don’t want jerkoffing if you are okay with that or you have some other way to make e come and relax after when I spanking you hard and long tell me

(sigh) Some things never change, I guess. I suggest you come the way you always do — in your mama’s basement in front of your sticky keyboard. And for the last time, fuck off.

I don’t get as much of this nonsense nowadays, but I still see it. Recently, Alex got a critique on her Tumblr that she is neglecting to post pictures of her anus. She’s nicer than I am: I would have replied that if this person wants to see an asshole, they should look in a mirror.

Some of you have my antiquated (but still functional) AOL address. My gmail address is at the end of the About Me section here. I’m still out there, on Facebook, Twitter and FetLife. I have always welcomed polite and civil correspondence (and no, you do not have to agree with me, just don’t be a dick about it), and that will not change.

So what should be my last gasp? Perhaps I’ll just say screw it and reveal all… my real name, my family, the TV shows they worked on…

wait for it…

ready?

bazingasheldon-171623

Come on, you didn’t really think I’d tell all that, did ya? Besides, I wanted to go out on a Big Bang. 😛

And so this hard-edged, tender-hearted, snarky spanko bids you farewell, in this venue at least. Have a great life, y’all. ♥ ♥ ♥  Thank you for reading.

According to Erica: How to enter the scene and find play partners

Back in November when we did Love Our Lurkers Day, one of my de-lurkers asked, “How do you get into the scene and find a top?” I replied that I would delve into that in a separate post in the future. Then December came with all its holiday distractions and health issues and so forth, and writing went to the back burner. Now, since I didn’t end up seeing Steve this week after all (hopefully next week), and I’ve finished my work early, I thought I’d finally tackle this topic. (Grab a beverage. This is looooong.)

Please keep in mind — this is all subject to individual opinions and experiences. I am posting only according to my own. Yours may vary.

First, getting into the spanking scene. Lucky you, you’re living in the Internet age; literally everything out there is at your fingertips, waiting to be discovered and perused. Now you just have to do the search and put yourself out there. Sure, easy, right? (insert sarcastic face here)

Social media is very helpful. As much as it is loaded with minefields and can have a bit of a bad rep sometimes, for newbies I would suggest joining FetLife, which is like Facebook for kinky folks. Yes, it can be overwhelming — there are millions of members, and myriad kinks, some that will no doubt scare the bejesus out of you. And yes, there are some pictures that may give you nightmares for the rest of your natural life. But if you keep your focus on spanking, that will weed out a lot of what’s not needed.

Because you cannot search FetLife without joining, create a name and a profile. Fill out the profile; it doesn’t have to be epic, just an intro to who you are and what you’re seeking, your likes, dislikes, whatever. I also recommend putting up photos. They don’t have to be of your face, or even of you. However, if you put up a picture of a spanking scene you like, be sure, whenever possible, to credit where it came from, who it is, etc. If you don’t know, then put something in your caption like “Source unknown: anyone know?” Nothing pisses people off more quickly on FL than posting other people’s photos without proper credit.

After that, you can start looking around the site, finding friends, joining groups, etc. The search function can help you narrow things down. For example, when I plugged in “Spanking Los Angeles,” I got this:

fetlife

I know this is tiny, sorry. But it says that there are 10 groups and 28 events, as well as listing members who have both spanking and Los Angeles in their profile. You can start there, looking up events, munches, etc. in your area. Of course, if you live in a well-populated large city, you’ll have more choices than if you live in the middle of nowhere. But people do often travel to meet friends and go to functions, so there is hope.

Back in the days of AOL dominance, there were chat rooms and groups and bulletin boards where people could post. Those went by the wayside a long time ago, unless there are some holdouts I don’t know about. Even the written blog is giving way to the Tumblr photo blogs. But still, there are ways to connect. You have to start somewhere, so FetLife is my best guess. If others have suggestions, please feel free to add them in your comments.

Once you’re there, read away. Check out the groups. Send friend requests and notes of intro to people you like. Be as open and friendly as you can be, while still maintaining your safety and privacy. Don’t give out personal information too quickly (your full name, email address, phone number, etc.). Women especially — befriend other women, so you can bounce things off them, have them to give you possible references, etc. I know we’ve all heard about the Mean Girls on these sites, and they do exist. But I’ll like to think that for the most part, we look out for one another.

It takes a leap of courage to take things offline and to physically attend a munch or a gathering. I would suggest, if they are available to you, go to munches first, which don’t involve play, just socializing in a restaurant or other public place, so there’s no pressure. When you’re new, listen a lot. Gather as much information from as many sources as you can. Be a sponge. There is much to learn. If you go to a munch and don’t care for it, try a different one. Pick out someone who appeals to you and ask them if they know other places to recommend. It’s all about connection and networking. The Internet does make it a lot easier, but also a great deal more complex. Be as patient as you can. If you’re seeking spanking and you end up at a munch that is more BDSM oriented, don’t fret. If you mention what you’re into, there are bound to be some people who know something or another about where you can home in on a group more specific to your desires. As I’ve mentioned before, when I was new, I went to a lot of BDSM functions and parties before finding the spanking parties.

OK, so you’ve waded in, looked around, perhaps make a few friends/connections. Now, how do you find a top? The first word that comes to mind is carefully. Very, very carefully. (For the sake of simplicity, I’m going to phrase the following as woman seeks man. Please swap out the pronouns in your mind as you read if it helps.)

Best case scenario: You go to a local munch, meet Mr. Wonderful, chat him up, meet one on one for coffee, and things click. Or you make some new friends who introduce you to Mr. Wonderful, vetting him in the process (although you still should do your own vetting). Hey, a woman can dream, and some people are lucky that way. But if not, then once again, you have to put yourself out there and take some leaps of faith. Carefully.

There used to be a lot more sites where people could put up a personal spanking ad, but now, they seem to have dwindled. There is a site called Spanking Personal Ads, which I can’t personally vouch for, but it looks to be pretty thorough and easy to navigate. When you write a profile for an ad site, be as specific as you need to be. State very clearly what you’re seeking… and what you’re not. Hate to say it, but on these sites, you’ll be more successful if you post a picture of yourself. Again, it doesn’t have to be your face, or you can pixelate/blur your face. But a potential playmate is going to want to know what you look like. Or, at the very least, write “photo available upon request” in your profile.

Females tend to be inundated as soon as they join one of these sites. Pick through the correspondence carefully — be prepared that some of it will be icky. But there may be gems as well.

Another potential site is good old Alt.com. Granted, I’ve posted more than my share of insults of that site over the years. Because it encompasses a lot of hard-core kink, you’ll see a whole lot more than spanking in there. You’ll see more dicks than a urologist. And I’d say 80% of my Correspondence Hall of Shame entries came from there. BUT. Again, patience. There are good people in there, too, and it doesn’t hurt to post a profile. Don’t pay for a membership; you can have a free one. Granted, it’s limited — you can’t contact people directly; you can only respond if they contact you. But it’s still worth a try. After all, I met Steve on Alt.com. I also met ST before him on Alt, and despite the way things ended between us, ST was a wonderful top.

When you start corresponding with men on these sites, I can’t emphasize this enough: Listen to your gut instincts. If someone is too pushy, tries to get you on the phone or to meet in person too quickly, if they are rude or crude, or if they simply give you an off vibe and you have no idea why, pay attention to that. Don’t try to talk yourself into something that doesn’t feel right, because you think you should, or because they try to coerce you. Newbies often fall into this trap — I did. Fortunately, I was never seriously hurt or abused, but I had my share of bad scenes and experiences, ones that could have been avoided. Always trust your gut.

If the man is local and wants to meet, I recommend doing so in a public place first. Some people meet for a meal, but I prefer coffee, so that food isn’t a distraction and I can concentrate on the person. Anyone who gives you resistance about meeting in public first? NEXT!

You may have a lot of these coffee dates. One of the reasons I had many in my earlier days was not just for safety’s sake, but I wanted to see if there was in-person chemistry before I committed to anything. No matter how great someone seems online, you really don’t know what they’re like until you see them up close and personal. Sometimes what works online falls flat in person. If this is the case, be kind, but let them know (gently) that you don’t think you’re a match. I never commit to playing with anyone (even at a party) until I’ve met them first. (Yes, I learned this from mistakes I’ve made.)

But say you click. Say the in-person chemistry is even better than online. You want to play with this guy, and the feeling is mutual. This is where you take the leap of faith, where you take the risk. Where you really, really have to listen to your instincts. Because you are about to make yourself vulnerable.

I don’t have to tell you about the bad things that can happen; you’ve heard them all. They’ve happened to people I know. It breaks my heart and makes me furious every time I hear bad stories, because I know they cause damage and reluctance and suspicion, and end up hurting the good players out there. I cannot blame women who have had bad experiences for giving up; it’s terrifying. And some may argue, with validity, that some fun spanking play isn’t worth risking your life for. But… damn. There’s so much good stuff, so many joyous experiences to be had, so many truly wonderful people to know. Please, please, if possible, don’t let the bad turn you away from the good.

Common sense is key. Don’t invite someone into your home, or go to their home, without a good solid feeling that they are trustworthy. (Do as I say, not as I do, with this one. Yup, I’ve had a couple of men come over in the past when I hadn’t met them publicly first. I was lucky that the experiences were awesome and hot. But it was still stupid of me.) Some women like to set up what’s known as a “safe call” — they let a friend know what they’re doing, and either the friend calls to check on them, or they agree to call the friend to let them know that they’re OK (and if the friend doesn’t hear from them, they call 911). I personally have never done this, but it adds an extra layer of safety.

Remember — you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. Even if you’ve gone through the vetting and the talking and the planning and the stating of limits and he’s finally with you, you can get a bad vibe at the last minute. Don’t hesitate to call things off if you do. I have. Had a guy come over once — we’d emailed, exchanged photos, met for coffee, clicked. But when he arrived and we started to play, he immediately pulled my cheeks apart and made a crass comment about my winking eye. I ended the scene right then and there and told him goodbye.

If the guy does nothing wrong, but the scene just doesn’t do it for you, then honor that. It’s not fun for either of you if it’s not working. Please don’t be discouraged if you have some dud meetings, or dud scenes. They happen. Move on to the next possibility and keep your eyes, mind and heart open. Through experimentation, you will learn how to balance healthy precaution with trust.

All this may sound like a lot of work, with no guarantee for return. But speaking for myself, after nearly 20 years, I’d say it’s all worth it. The joys and pleasures of finding good play partners far outweigh the inconveniences of weeding through the masses to find them. And having friends, a social circle of people who get you, get your kink, is priceless.

I could go on and on, and I’ve probably forgotten half of what I wanted to say. But for now, I’d say this is enough. Again, please feel free to ask more questions, or add your own input to this.

Oh, and on a personal note that has nothing to do with any of this: In the Spanking Blogg’s Lifetime Achievement Award for Spankees, I won third place. First place is the amazing Amber Pixie Wells, and 2nd place is Leia-Ann Woods. I’ve met both and they are lovely. Congratulations, and thank you to everyone who voted for me. I really am honored by this, considering that I got such a late start. I mean, I got into the scene and started doing videos and so forth at an age where many are retiring already. What a ride it’s been. It’s nice to feel appreciated. 🙂

Have a great weekend, y’all.

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