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 “Steve”

A brief update

Just a quickie on Sunday night before a busy week. I’m not bursting with news, just wanted to pop in and update on three things.

First, regarding the situation I mentioned at the party a couple of weeks ago, on the last night — all was resolved, in the nicest possible way. It was handled reasonably, compassionately, and I even seem to have made a new friend over it. Rather than hold me in contempt, the parties involved were actually concerned and caring that I’d been upset, and we talked it out. I wish everyone could be this pleasant. So that’s a relief.

Second… I suppose I need to say something about the fact that I haven’t posted about Steve in several months. No, he did not leave the relationship. He always said he wouldn’t, and he was true to his word. However, we have not played for over four months, and the only thing I’m willing to give as an explanation at this time is that we have irreconcilable differences. It makes me sad, and I miss what we had. I’d been with him a little over four years — longer than I was with ST and even my beloved Danny. And I certainly miss having regular play. But honestly, my life is different these days. I’m spending a lot more hours working (which is a good thing), and I don’t have the play time I used to. And being busy with work keeps me productively occupied, rather than spending time ruminating online over the state of the country. So. I hope there will come a day when I have local play again. But for now, it’s not happening.

Finally, I had expressed frustration that I’d gotten so few pictures at the party, and one of my readers pleaded for me to take pictures of the lingerie I wore on Purple Night. So, Friday, I dusted off my old-school digital camera, set up the timer and took some shots. (I’m just not that good with phone selfies.) Hope you like ’em! 😉

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Would you believe Target? Yeah, Victoria’s Secret has some really nice stuff, but good Christ, they’re expensive. And I’ve always liked Target. For those poor narrow-minded folks out there with misguided phobias who are boycotting Target over their bathroom policies — go right ahead! More for the rest of us!

Hope everyone is well out there. Please drop by and say hello!

Size DOES matter

As in the size of riding crops! (WTF did you think I was talking about?)

Steve showed up at my door yesterday brandishing a crop I hadn’t seen before; he said he’d rediscovered it going through some of his stuff. The first thing I noticed was that the tip, while leather (there is no way I will allow a rubber-tipped crop; I’ve experienced that and don’t want to again), was very small and skinny, until the broader tip of our favorite. Uh oh. I’ve been around implements long enough to know that oftentimes, smaller means more painful, because it concentrates the sensation in smaller areas.

I was right.

Yesterday was intense anyway, for various reasons. I’m so damn stressed lately; things going on with John that I’d rather not go into (his work), plus all the anger and negativity everywhere over this @#$%ing election. Just the other day, I was called a “leftist Jew” on Twitter. I felt overwhelmed with tension and was fairly bursting with it when Steve arrived. We talked for a long time and I wept before he even touched me.

I also wept during our scene, and afterward. I guess I needed to.

But oh, that crop. I hate that thing! It’s nasty! I like sting, but this sting is different, since it’s so concentrated. It felt like I was being stung by multiple bees, again and again. I tried my best to keep still, to not squirm and writhe, but it was a challenge. Breathe, I thought. Settle. Accept. Take it in.

Feel. Just feel. Then you don’t have to think.

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Afterward, I was drained and tired, so drowsy. All I wanted to do was curl up and sleep all afternoon. But I had to be all adult-y and stuff and work.

Someone suggested yesterday that I stay off all social media for the next two weeks. But I know I can’t do that. However, I no longer watch the news, or even any of the talk shows. I don’t want to hear about what’s going on. I have retreated into nostalgia — lately, I’ve been watching MeTV, AntennaTV and the Buzzr channel (old game shows). Although it’s pretty surreal to watch an 80s Johnny Carson show and hear him mention Trump. Some things never change…

Ugh. Must go work out. Must copy edit. And tonight’s reward, a new Law and Order: SVU episode. Last week it was pre-empted… for that fucking debate! 😛

Stress relief, and a runaway bus

OK, kids — no matter what side you’re on, I think we can all agree that this godawful Presidential election, fraught with anger and ugliness, could send anyone in this country to the loony bin. I know that if I’m going to survive, I need stress release, and I need to laugh. Fortunately, I’ve had opportunities for both this week.

First, for the past three days, I’ve been engaging in a war of bratty tweets on Twitter. It started out with Ulf Sayer, Kajira Bound and me, and then it expanded to include Alex Reynolds, Paul Kennedy and Nuna Starks. Ulf had claimed that, because of me, the hashtag #SpankOnSight has become an international necessity. And sometime yesterday, I’ve lost track of who started it, but the hashtag #BlameEricaScott became a thing.

So, I tweeted a photo of myself with a very innocent face, and said, “Who, meeee?” And late last night, Alex tweeted, “YES YOU!!!”

Humph! I then replied to all, “Did anyone get the license plate of that bus I just got thrown under?”

And Miss Alex came back with, “I did! Here you go!” Accompanied by this:

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Well, I never! I am flabbergasted! I am verklempt! Or, to employ my beloved boyfriend’s goyishe interpretation, I am kermufft!

Today, Kajira posted a picture of herself about to be spanked by Ulf, and tweeted that this is what happens every time she talks with or quotes me. To which I said, “You’re welcome.” 😀

But back to stress relief. Steve and I were able to get together for a couple of hours yesterday, and we made good use of it. And finally got some new pictures. For this one, he called out, “Give me your best ‘WTF are you doing??’ face!” Which translated into my signature “righteous indignation” face:

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And then, of course, there’s my “Is that all you’ve got?” face:

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Apparently, it wasn’t all he had.

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Notice that my thighs got a bit of attention too.

All good. I certainly felt a lot more relaxed afterward. And the laughter certainly felt wonderful.

Friends are good things. ♥ Bus tracks on my ass notwithstanding.

Birthday love for John!

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I wish we didn’t have to work and could be together today, but Friday will be here soon enough. ♥  I am so far behind on everything — I haven’t baked his birthday brownies yet, nor have I bought a card… ack! And it doesn’t help that he’s impossible to buy presents for, because he never wants anything. (So give him a gift card, right? Wrong. He hates gift cards. Sigh.) Oh well. Happiest of birthdays, sweetie! Love you!

In other news, I saw Steve yesterday, first time in a couple of weeks, and he wanted to make sure the spanking was heartfelt. So he used the heart-shaped paddle. (insert massive eye roll here)

And of course, because there is a frustrated artist somewhere in him, he was obsessed with getting a heart-shaped red mark on my butt. Do you think he succeeded? He certainly tried hard enough.

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But really, I’m not complaining. I was happy. See?

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Must get work done — going to dinner with my girls tonight! Happy Hump Day.

Couple more birthday tidbits

I’d forgotten to mention that, along with flowers and lunch, Steve gave me a gift card. What’s so unusual about that, you might wonder. Take a look at it.

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What, pray tell, is a “Vanilla VISA”??? Does that mean I can’t buy anything naughty with it? So what shall I purchase? Maybe go to the book section of Amazon and buy “The Joys of Missionary”? Or get some nice virginal white granny panties? Oh, I know! I’ll go to the music section and buy “Shades of White: The Pat Boone Box Set”! (snort)

Incidentally, Steve was the one who scrawled KINKY under the No Fees line.

And really, is my birthday complete without a new cartoon from the uber-talented Dave Wolfe? No, it is not. He never forgets, no matter what. ♥ Here is the 2016 Erica’s Birthday Toon:

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Thank you, Wolfie!!

And finally — this part is off topic, but it definitely concerns another topic about which I’m passionate: The Beatles. Yesterday, John took me to see “The Beatles: Eight Days A Week — The Touring Years,” the documentary by Ron Howard. It focused on 1962-1966, the years in which they traveled worldwide and performed live for thousands of teenagers. At the end of the film, there was a remastered film of their 30-minute Shea Stadium concert in 1965, to over 55,000 screaming fans.

It was magical. Especially for me, because I much prefer the first half of their career to the second. I loved them overall, but whenever I have my druthers, I choose to listen to the music from their “moptop” days, when they wore identical suits and haircuts, when they were brimming with youth and exuberance and cheekiness. Before they grew tired and jaded, before they withdrew from the public and retreated into the studio. When they could still do no wrong, before that unfortunate throwaway remark by John (“We’re bigger than Jesus”) in 1966 brought the wrath of the Bible Belt on their heads, inciting everything from mass burnings of Beatles albums and merchandise to death threats. Yes, their later music grew more sophisticated and complex, it gained in maturity and brilliance… but it lost something as well, for me: the unbridled joy. The playfulness, the boyishness. Before “She Loves You” morphed into “She’s Leaving Home.”

Some parts of the film made me cry… I’m not sure why. Nostalgia, perhaps, or sadness for days gone by. I thought of my brother, who was a teen in the thick of Beatlemania, who went to see them at the Hollywood Bowl. In fact, when the film showed footage of the Bowl concert, John leaned over and whispered, “Ken was there!”

But most of it made me happy. And I’d like to share just a tidbit, the last song in the Shea Stadium concert. Where the screaming was so loud, they couldn’t hear themselves, so they had to count on each other for musical cues (Ringo said he kept the drum beat by “watching John’s ass”). For me, this little two-minute clip encapsulates everything I loved about the Beatles. Watch Paul gleefully singing at the top of his lungs; John and George singing accompanying harmonies and cracking up; John clowning at the keyboard. I defy anyone to not feel the infectious joy. Indulge me — it’s just two minutes. 🙂 Hope everyone had a nice weekend.

Put another candle on my…

Are you ready for some Friday cornball nostalgia?

When I was a kid growing up in Southern California, we had a local kiddie program called Sheriff John’s Lunch Brigade. And a feature of the show was when Sheriff John celebrated his viewers’ birthdays — complete with this cheesy little number:

I know, it’s nauseating now. Heck, I found it to be a bit much even as a kid. But my point is, you’re supposed to put a candle on the birthday cake. But the other day, we had a candle, but no cake. So Steve improvised.

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Yes, that is a lit candle. And get your minds out of the gutter; it’s not inserted, it’s just perched. He knew I was terrified (I hate fire, passionately), so he lit it, snapped the picture and blew it right out, warning me to hold still. This was an act of supreme trust, let me tell you! He wanted to do this last year and I wouldn’t let him. I don’t like flame anywhere near my skin. But I knew now that he’d be careful and wouldn’t let anything bad happen.

And, since he’d drawn that pretty Sharpie heart, he had to color it in. Didn’t he do a good job?

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OK, so he went outside the line a little on the right. Nobody’s perfect. If you look carefully, you’ll see a faint bit of pink on each mid-thigh. That’s where the “ones to grow on” went. (groan)  I don’t want to fucking grow anymore, thank you!

It was a lovely birthday. I got lots of online greetings, and although yesterday was a work day with laundry and gym and other everyday responsibilities, I got to take a break and have lunch with SpankCake. Alex is out of town, or else she would have joined us, and the three of us will convene for the full celebration in early October. Meanwhile, it was so great to see SC; we’ve all been so busy and had fallen out of touch, so we caught up a bit and had a nice lunch. And she brought me flowers and a balloon! ♥

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Anyway, now I must return to work; it was an extremely busy week, but I am coming to the end of it and am wrapping up everything that needed to get done. It’s almost weekend time! Oh, and it’s supposedly the first weekend of fall… really? It’s going to be in the triple digits here by tomorrow or Sunday. Fall, my a$&.

Have a great weekend, y’all. 🙂

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