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 “stress release”

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:


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:


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


Apparently, it wasn’t all he had.


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.

Still here…

…but frazzled.


No, this graphic is not really intended to represent me. I don’t have her boobage. But this is how I’m feeling lately. It’s good stuff — lots of work — but it’s stressful.

I was already busy with work, but last week, a client I hadn’t heard from in at least a year burst out of the woodwork and slammed me with projects. And informed me that there are many more to come. Meanwhile, they sent six documents and wanted the first two ASAP.


Two things I’d forgotten about this particular client. One, they want everything yesterday. And two, they produce online medical courses… complete with graphic and gross photos. You guys know how horribly squeamish I am. Do you know how hard it is to focus on dry medical copy when it’s surrounding a closeup of an ulcerated foot??

But it’s work. Still, I find all my craziness kicking in. “No, you don’t have time to work out!” “No, you don’t have time to blog!” “No, you don’t have time to run errands/do chores/socialize with anyone!” “No, you don’t have time to breathe! Gotta work, gotta work, gotta work work work…” Ugh.

However, I know this is nuts, so Tuesday I did take a break to see Steve for a couple of hours. He was stressed out over his own work situation, and I was tense and preoccupied — we thought perhaps we might skip playing. But of course, after a few minutes of relaxing and talking, our natural instincts kicked in and we got down to pleasure.

I so welcomed the stress release; it was like blowing steam out of a pressure cooker. Yeah, I know, a lot of you don’t know what those are. Do they even make pressure cookers anymore? I remember my mother having one. I never understood how they work or why they were used; I just know that you had to watch them carefully, because if you left them unattended, they might explode, and then whatever you were cooking in there decorated the entire kitchen.

Of course, since time was of the essence, Steve decided he needed to choose an implement with the most bang for the buck. I rolled my eyes when I saw what he went for: the dreaded Lickin’ Stick. Have I mentioned lately how much I hate that @#$%ing thing??


There it is, peeking out in the right corner of the photo. I swear, if I had a fireplace, I’d reduce that thing to ashes.

Ah… but you all see through me, don’t you. You know I’m just bitching and moaning. When all was said and done, I was a happy girl.

My Gorgeous Girl

Well, for a little while anyway. The stress came back. But the respite was nice while it lasted.

Anyway, kids, I don’t know how much posting I’ll be doing in the next couple of weeks. The Shadow Lane party is coming over Labor Day, so once August is over I’ll have a couple of new adventures, but until then, posts will probably be brief. My readership is way down, and I’ve come to accept it. Things just aren’t the way they used to be, especially since Chross has stopped doing Spankings of the Week. I used to average between 1000-1500 views per days, skyrocketing to nearly 3000 if I was Chrossed. Now I’m lucky if I break 500. Such is life.

Oh, and in case anyone is wondering, no, I’m not watching the Olympics. John is. Me? I couldn’t care less. We were watching last weekend at John’s — he was doing excited running commentary on the biking, while I struggled to stay awake. I know, I’m awful. What else is new. (I do like gymnastics. But swimming? Back and forth and back and forth and back and forth and… YAWN!!)

And now I must get back to work, so I can head out to John’s with a (relatively) cleared deck. Have a great weekend, y’all. 🙂

The great escape

What… did you think I was going to stay off-topic and keep ranting about world issues? Nah. I can only stand so much of that. I have way too damn much on my mind these days. Besides work, and the fact that I can’t stand this time of year, and all the bad news out there, now John, with his bent for being a squeaky wheel at work (which, unfortunately, is part of his job) is embroiled in a series of clashes with some of his higher-ups. He doesn’t seem to be concerned about it, as he has Union representation. Me? I’m freaking out. And every night when we talk and he tells me the latest details, I sprout a new crop of gray hairs.

So yeah. I needed some escape. And guess what? So did Steve. He still hasn’t found work yet and has no idea where he’s going to end up. That kind of uncertainty would send me to the loony bin, but he seems to be taking it in stride. Nevertheless, I think he needs his mini-oasis times as much as I do.

It had been a couple of weeks, and I was more than ready, tense and taut and needing to tell the world to eff off for a couple of hours. What is it about an intense spanking session that makes everything go away? I closed my eyes and soon forgot it all. My only awareness was the sound of flesh hitting flesh, and Steve’s voice. My initial squirming and resistance melted into acquiescence, welcoming the sting and sinking into it.  No tears for me this time; I didn’t feel sad. It wasn’t that kind of release. The feeling was more like the tension was suddenly rushing out my pores, out my lungs as I exhaled, leaving behind nothing but sweet, clean euphoria.

There was pain; of course, there’s always pain. At one point I had my face mashed into a cushion, hollering into it, muffling my cries. But did I want it to stop? No. Whenever a flurry ended, I raised my hips up for more.

“I want to use the crop today,” Steve whispered. Yes. It’s our favorite.

So, here’s a before picture:


Note the socks. My feet were freezing, so he insisted I keep them on. Wouldn’t want me to be uncomfortable, would he?

Well, not my feet, anyway.


Cliché as this is, damn, I needed that. 🙂

Nothing changed in those couple of hours. But they were a pleasant respite all the same. And the bubble of euphoria took me into the evening and then to a wonderful night’s sleep.

Now, work is done for the day, and it’s time to hit the gym. Always a fun time working out after a hard spanking…

(No. I’m not really complaining.)

Fun with Steve

Two weeks in a row feels like a luxury now, after our month off! I am going to fully enjoy every time we have, as I don’t know what the future holds as far as his schedule is concerned. Hopefully he will find work with flex hours; I don’t see him fitting into the 8 to 5 rut very well. We’ll see.

Anyway… he was very much into getting pictures this time, even during our warm-up time. While I was over his lap on the couch, he kept pausing and reaching forward to futz with the camera set up on the coffee table. He took so long at one point that I foolishly snapped, “What are you doing?” “Excuse me, did you say something?” he asked. And then he let his hand do the talking for a while, eventually adding, “Wanna repeat that? Wanna ask that question again? Go ahead, ask it again.” Uh… no, once was enough, thank you!

But he did get some nice pictures. 🙂 I love this man’s hands. And I love the skin contrast, like coffee and cream. (Or in my case, I guess it’s more like nonfat milk.)


Just before we moved into the bedroom for Round Two, I was sprawled on the couch and he said, “Oh, don’t move, I have to get a picture of that.” I couldn’t imagine why, until I saw it later.


I’m so ladylike, aren’t I?

He chose four implements in the bedroom — two that I love, and two that are a bit nasty. So it was quite the contrast of sensations and impact, and at the end when he had me bent over the side of the bed, I was losing it. I was so close to the edge, and he knew it. “Stay with me, sweetheart,” he urged. “Hang on with me.” He took me right to the edge… and then stopped before I could fall.


And then my knees buckled a bit. We were done.


I shook and trembled and wept for a very long time, while he held me close. I don’t know where that all came from, but I get it needed to come out. I love Steve’s aftercare so much — he just wraps me up and makes me feel so safe, re-grounds me when I’m flying off the walls.

Poor guy hasn’t been sleeping well lately. After I had been fully taken care of, he lay back on my bed, and promptly fell asleep. I covered him up and left to go do some work, and he slept for over an hour. Wearing me out wore him out, apparently. 🙂

Happy hump day. And for rabid fans like me, happy SVU day!

Spanko de Mayo

Yeah, I’m still here. Been busy, taking care of things. John. Work. But yesterday, it was my turn. Steve came over, and for a few blissful hours, someone took care of me.

It was Cinco de Mayo. Of course, that means nothing to me — I’m not of Mexican heritage, and I have no desire to go to a bar and pound margaritas (although lately, the idea of alcohol-fused oblivion has its appeal). But Steve took full advantage of it. To commemorate the day, he informed me, I would not receive any single swats. No… everything would be in series of fives.

Oh, boy.

I thought, well, how bad could that be. HA. He didn’t mention that the fives would all be in the same spot, fast, and hard. Or that he would dip below and venture onto my upper thighs (mercifully, he did that only with his hand, not the implements). But OUCH.


He was quite steady with that five-count, too. One time, however, he was off, and I oh so brilliantly piped up, “That was four, stupid.”

(geeez, who’s the stupid one here?)

That got me a reward of ten, all in one spot. Argh.

We actually shot some video, for the first time since before John’s surgery. I was a bit more subdued than usual, but still had fun and enjoyed the banter. Things got pretty intense at the end, though. Here’s a screen grab to illustrate:


I think I like screen grabs from video better than stills; there’s an immediacy and authenticity to them that isn’t quite present in a posed shot.

He held me for a long time afterward, while I basked in mindless nothingness, enjoying the pleasant sting and prickle lingering in my bottom and upper thighs. I would have napped when he left, but I had work to do, so I snapped myself back to reality and got down to it.

Anyway. John is most likely going to get the green light to drive again, this week. It’s been six weeks, which is the amount of time they originally told him to avoid driving. This will be huge, as it will give him back his autonomy (and give me all of my weekdays back, which I will so appreciate). Just in time, too, as he has doctor appointments on Thursday and Friday, and I have a lot of work. In fact, last week, he actually took cabs a couple of times, because I had deadlines and I simply could not make it to his place. I begged him to ask his neighbors for a ride, since they’ve offered several times, but he hates asking people for anything. Well, except me. (sigh) So OK, he took cabs. His choice.

Today, I feel relaxed, productive, and the cherry on the sundae? It’s cloudy and gray outside, my kind of day! 🙂 (Yes, I’m weird. What else is new.) Back to work with me.

Thank you, Steve. ♥

My day of kinky support

As of today, Tuesday, John is still in the hospital, but he may be released tonight. Since tonight and the next couple of days will be a whirlwind of getting him settled and running errands and taking him to three different doctor appointments, I won’t have any time for updating this. So today, while I have a bit of me time, I’m going to catch up with last Tuesday, which really was a great day. I honestly believe it helped prepare me for having my life thrown back into a blender the following day.

Last Tuesday, Steve showed up with open arms and open heart, ready to listen and support. I was feeling edgy and impatient, and even when the spanking I so desperately craved had started, I sniped at his phraseology. When he said “You need this” too often for my liking, I snapped, “Yes, you mentioned that a few dozen times.” That got me thigh slaps. OK, I deserved them. “Got anything else to say?” he asked. “No, no,” I hastily assured him, trying to clear the stars of pain floating around my eyes. “I didn’t think so,” he said. “If you need this, then it doesn’t matter how many times I say it, does it?” (Uh… well, it’s still redundant, but I didn’t say so at that moment!)

After a while, the impatience gave way to what I was really feeling — extreme frustration, coupled with guilt over being snappish and tense with John. Granted, in my defense, he’s a godawful patient and so OCD about everything being done just so in his house that it gives me fits. But still… I was at my wits’ end several times over the past weekend, and I couldn’t wait to go home. So when Steve said, “Take this like a good girl,” I blurted, “There is NOTHING good about me!” “Excuse me?” “I said, there is nothing good about me. I’m sick of all this, I’m sick of him, I just want to run away from all of this and have my life back. I’m a terrible, selfish person.”

“You are wrong,” he replied calmly, not stopping. “You have no idea what kind of person you are, how much you’ve done, how much you continue to do. He’s lucky to have you. You’re not a terrible person, you are exhausted and stressed out and that’s why I’m here.”

And of course, I cried.

He held me in his lap for a long time until I calmed down, pulling in the first deep breaths I may have taken in about a week. “Ready for the ottoman?” he asked. I knew I needed a little more, so I bravely assumed the position while he went to fetch a couple of implements. Only two this time: the Lexan paddle and the crop. Just enough to give me a couple of intense sensations and coax out that last bit of stress.


Afterward, I actually dozed off for a little bit in his arms. That is a rarity for me, so it speaks to how very tired I was. And how safe I felt.

Thank you, Steve. ♥

But wait, there’s more! I still had my dinner date with Alex and SpankCake later. Alex was running a little late (traffic), but SC and I got to the restaurant early, so we caught up for a half-hour until Alex joined us, and then we were off into another marathon of catching up, airing stress, laughing, talking kink, and just enjoying each other as we always do. We beat our record this time: six hours. We met at 5:30, intending to make it an “early evening,” and ended up leaving at 11:30.

And of course, there had to be dessert. We wanted a brownie sundae, but they were out of brownies. Booo! So we chose a regular ice-cream sundae instead, and made short work of it. Now you see it…


…Now you don’t. (Alex ate all the cherries, BTW)


Thank you, my sweet friends. ♥

I feel so out of the loop with everyone and everything, but I guess that’s to be expected. This week, the lion’s share of the spanking scene is convening in Atlantic City for the Boardwalk Badness Weekend (which ends up being more like five days or so), and usually I feel horribly sad not being there, but right now, I just can’t think about it. So I hope all my friends there will have a blast and hold a good thought for John and his recovery.

And hopefully I can get some readership back for this blog! Sorry to have been so silent lately.

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