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 “Uncategorized”

Good thoughts, please

This might be my last update for a while. I really don’t have anything good to post, and the situation here is a bit dire.

The Bobcat fire in Southern California is close to John’s town. It is up in the hills above several foothill communities, and John’s is one of them. I was there with him this weekend, and yesterday, we were told to leave. John is staying at his condo in another county, and I am back at my apartment.

The air quality is poor everywhere, some places worse than others. In John’s area, everything smelled like a barbecue. Mercifully, at my place, the sky is hazy but there is no smell.

Last week began with my A/C that was out for two days when we had triple-digit temperatures, and it ended with my car costing $1550 in various repairs and maintenance. John was healing from a pulled tooth and an infected thumb, and I was dealing with three large, weepy, angry ant bites on my leg with itching that nearly drove me nuts. And now, compared to this fire hanging over our heads like a specter, last week was a picnic.

The entire West Coast is on fire, it seems. Washington and Oregon are badly impacted too. There seems to be no end in sight.

I am home working. Trying to keep my head and not lose it in panic and fear. And anger. Because this didn’t have to happen. And neither did the extremity of the Covid epidemic that’s keeping us from our loved ones at this highly stressful time.

Four years ago, I cried all night in fear, not knowing what exactly I was afraid of but feeling a sense of doom. Now I know exactly what I feared. All this. Living hell, truly. And I’m an atheist and don’t even believe in that crap. But if this isn’t hell, I don’t know what is. Out of control fires. Riots and protests and shootings. An out of control pandemic, with a so-called president who knew how bad it was but lied to all of us.

And that bloated monster is here in CA right now, blaming us for the fires. Go do your fucking hate rallies, you murderous lying bastard. We don’t want you here.

I know other people I love are suffering. This has been an awful year for just about everyone I know. Many tragedies and losses, illnesses, pain. It’s hard to feel like you can ask for support when everyone else needs it too. So… I’m just hunkering down and hoping. I’m not budging from my apartment, where it is quiet and safe. I will work. I need to pay my bills. Play is the furthest thing from my mind right now, so there’s no point in trying to keep up a spanking blog. When/if life calms a bit, I will get back to it.

Please hold a good thought for me. I am so scared.

What do I want?

Happy Friday, kids. It’s been another action-packed week in Pandemic Paradise. Work and workouts, texting with friends, and way too damn much social media. Earlier this week on Twitter, I had the temerity to suggest that people who willfully refuse to wear masks in areas where they are mandated (I’m not talking about the homeless, or other people who don’t have access to them) should be fined. Ohhhhh my. Among many other things, I was called “a good little Nazi youth.” Yeeeesh. With all the other insults, I just deleted them and blocked the people who sent them. But with that one, I couldn’t resist replying “I’m Jewish, you ignorant fuck.”

Ah, good times.

So, coming to the end of another week of dodging the plague, what do I want?

I know some people are having lots of this, but I really don’t want to go that route.


I suppose I could always go with some of this…


I have plenty of this in my freezer…


And thanks to my thoughtful friend Jay, I also have plenty of this…


Wait — maybe something salty instead? This is what I had for dinner a while back. Don’t judge me.


Plenty of choices!

But I really don’t want any of the above.

My stomach is well fed and not at all hungry. However, my skin, my body, my heart and soul are hungry.

Goddamn it all to hell, this is what I want.


But I keep thinking about all the deaths. All the people who can’t breathe. The escalating cases in my state. And no matter how I try to get around it, there seems to be no safe way to play right now.

Sooooo… where’s that @#$%ing chocolate??

(sigh) Have a good weekend, y’all. Be safe.

Curious Cat questions

Okay, so the classic comedy clip didn’t garner much response. I kind of expected that it wouldn’t. So I’ll try something a bit more on topic this time. A while back, Bonnie suggested maybe putting up some of my Curious Cat questions. What is Curious Cat, you might ask?


Essentially, it’s an app (sometimes used via Twitter or Facebook — I have mine through Twitter) where people can ask you questions anonymously. When people post questions to me, I can either 1. answer them privately, 2. answer them publicly (but the questioner remains anonymous), or 3. delete them. Sometimes, it can be fun, especially if people ask thoughtful and somewhat original questions. Unfortunately, however, despite the fact that I’ve been online for bazillion years, have written countless posts and opinions on countless forums and written books and pretty much told everyone everything, I still get the same. Damn. Questions that I’ve answered a bazillion times, again and again.

So. Here and now, once and for all, I’m going to answer all those CC questions, for the last freaking time. And yes, I will probably be snarky. What a surprise.

I don’t know if I can remember them all, but I can always update this post if I think of more. Here they are, in no particular order.

Do you prefer being spanked by a man or a woman?

(groan) Readers? Y’all know the answer to this, right? Haven’t I stated it in about 1,000 different ways, in 1,000 different places? Men. Males. Y chromosome possessors. Owners of testicles. You get me? No women! Never women! I love women. I have women friends. That doesn’t mean I want to engage in intimate activity with them. I am M/F all the way, all day.

Have you ever topped? Did you like it?

Oy vey. For the last time… I. Do. Not. Top. I topped once. On film. Briefly, because I really wanted to be in this film and I got to bottom in it for a whole lot longer. I hated doing it, I sucked at it, and I never did it again. Ever.

Is spanking sex?

Spanking is sexUAL. Spanking is sexY. But no, for me, I don’t care to combine the two. I love both, but I compartmentalize. Other people’s mileage varies.

What’s your favorite spanking position?

Hung upside down from the chandelier by my toes, while the top swings at me with a pool noodle. No, that’s a lie. OTK, of course. Over. The. Knee. I’ve mentioned that a few times too. Second favorite position? Over pillows on a bed or table for a strapping.

Have you ever been caned?


Have you ever been paddled?

Yes. With every possible material, including aluminum.

Have you ever been spanked with a ruler?


Have you ever been tawsed?


Have you ever been flogged?


Have you ever been spanked with a sjambok?


What’s a surefire way to make you cry?

Ask me stupid questions.

What’s the hardest spanking you’ve ever gotten on video?

That’s pretty difficult to say, as they’ve all sort of blurred together over the years. If I had to pick one, it might be the 200 strokes with a wooden paddle that I took for Spanking Court. That was tough. And yes, it marked me like crazy.

SC10.1.11 146

Who’s your favorite film spanker?

I don’t name names of favorites publicly. It always ends up hurting someone’s feelings.

What’s your favorite studio to work with?

See above.

Which shooting experience did you enjoy the most?

See above.

Do spankings really hurt more on a wet bottom?

Yes… they really, really do. Stop asking me that, please.

Which of your videos are you the most proud of?

When Danny Met Erica.

Were you spanked as a child?

I am not going to answer that and give you wank fodder. Get out of my face.

What type of panties do you prefer to wear?

Cheekies, hipsters, tangas, boy-shorts are all styles I enjoy. I like thongs for when I’m wearing something tight-fitting and don’t want panty lines, or for when I’m playing at a big party and want maximum exposure without flashing my bits all over the room.

Do you prefer leather or wooden implements?

(sigh) How many times have I said “I’m allergic to wood”? How many times have I said “Wood belongs in a fireplace”? Leather!

Do you think that regular spankings help keep your bottom firm?

Yeah, I wish. No. Busting your ass with exercise keeps your ass firm. There are no easy ways out.

Does spanking make you wet/horny/juicy/aroused/excited/etc.?

Depends on who’s doing it. Probably wouldn’t if you did it.

Do you like being told what to do? Do you like scolding? Do you like being told to go to your room? Do you like it when the man takes down your panties or tells you to do it yourself? Do you like looking in the mirror afterward? And so on, and so on… Look, I don’t mean to sound cranky. But Jeeezus… some people are actually capable of asking an original, thoughtful question that I haven’t already answered a thousand times. Here are a couple of examples that impressed me.

What do you like about being in subspace? How can someone get you there fast?

My answer:
1. Subspace is utter bliss. For that short period, the world goes away and there is only me and my top, and I’m floating in euphoria, awash in endorphins and oxytocin.
2. You don’t get there “fast.” It takes time, patience, and trust in one’s partner.

How are you different in your screen persona and play persona? What video is most like you IRL [In Real Life]?

My answer:
What a cool question; thank you.
On video, I was a louder version of the private play me. I talked more, I yelled more, projected a lot more — it’s more fun to watch an animated bottom, I think. In private play, I quiet down sooner and settle into the scene, allowing my body and mind to process the sensations.
The video that captures me the best is When Danny Met Erica. It has a little of many sides of me — sarcastic, high and mighty, playful, combative, and ultimately, vulnerable and soft.

See? It’s possible!

Before I sign off, while I’m in snark mode, I have one more thing to comment on.

If you have COPD, if you have asthma or any other sort of breathing disorder that makes it so you cannot comfortably wear a face mask, then okay. If you can’t, you can’t. If you’re just an entitled, selfish, obnoxious idiot who still thinks Covid-19 is a hoax and that having to wear a mask violates your rights somehow, if you throw a fit publicly when asked to put one on… Go fuck yourself with a 2 x 4. Sideways. You’re part of the reason why this damn thing keeps getting worse.

The other day, I saw a thoroughly revolting, petulant tweet from hotshot rogue pastor Greg Locke in Bumfukistan, US of A. The guy comes off like a better-looking Jim Jones. It was on the day before July 4th, and it read as follows:

We will not shut down church services. We will not social distance at church. We will not require masks. We will not apologize. We will not contribute to the false narrative of fear and control. We will continue to grow. We will not bow. #IndependenceDay #NoMask

What a twat-waffle. I read this and the first thing I thought was, it sounds like Dr. Seuss having a tantrum. So I retweeted it, and added this:

We will not eat green eggs and ham.
We will not buy this Covid scam.
We will not close our church sublime.
We will not live past summertime.

Yup, I’m going to hell. I really don’t care. All my friends will be there.

Have a good weekend, y’all. Please be safe.

OT: Because we really need to laugh

Last week, we lost TV icon Carl Reiner. He was 98 years old. A lot of younger people don’t remember who he was; hell, they don’t even remember who his son is (Rob Reiner, from All in the Family). But he had a brilliant career that spanned decades.

Back in television’s infancy, before many of us were born (yeah, even me), there was a comedy/variety show called Your Show of Shows, and it showcased the talents of four amazing comics: Sid Caesar, Imogene Coca, Howard Morris, and Carl Reiner. Carl was the only one of them remaining, until last week. Since then, many clips have been floating about, and last weekend, John and I happened upon a program on PBS that featured some of the best of YSOS. As with much early comedy, these sketches were highly physical.

A segue: I’ve been exposed up close and personal to comedy all my life. I’m kind of a humor snob; I know what I like, and what I don’t. And I have kind of a love-hate relationship with physical comedy. On the one hand, what makes up a lot of what’s called “slapstick” is not to my liking. For example, I may be the only person on the planet who feels like this, but I loathe and despise the whole trope of throwing pies or other messy food in someone’s face. Not only do I not find it funny, but the sight of it quite literally turns my stomach. It’s gross! And I’ve never found broad shtick where people get hurt to be amusing either. Some prat falls can make me giggle, but when people get their teeth knocked out, their heads bashed, their hands slammed under a piano lid or burned on a hot dish, etc., I don’t laugh, I cringe. (As you’ve probably figured out if you didn’t already know, I hate the Three Stooges with a passion.)

On the other hand, though, some physical comedy is amazing. It requires great dexterity and timing, agility, and the ability to amuse and convey ideas and situations with simple body movements. When we watched that PBS program last weekend, I saw one of the classic skits from YSOS for the first time, and I was howling through the entire thing. Not a word was spoken, just the incredible timing and physicality of these four players. I don’t think there is anything nowadays that comes anywhere near this.

So I found it on YouTube and thought I’d share it. Yeah, I know, it’s long — clocks in at over seven minutes. But it’s worth your attention. How they all kept straight faces, I don’t know. And they made it look so easy, but I’m sure it was anything but. The best performers make things look easy.

Sorry the film quality isn’t great. Oh, and in case you’re wondering — no, no one in my family was involved in this sketch, in front of or behind the camera. I just thought it was hilarious, and I hope you guys laugh as much as I did. 🙂 Because fuck-all knows we need to laugh right about now. (Be sure you go to Full Screen to see it best.)


Correspondence Hall of Shame, 6/5

That’s right, kids. Through pandemics, through riots and protests, through this entire freaking 2020 apocalypse, what never goes away?


You know it! Here’s a fresh crop of weirdos for your blog-reading pleasure.

Yummy!! You have an absolutely exquisite ass and I LOVE to spank a delicious ass and make sure NEVER to skip the inner cheeks!

Uh… guess what, pal. You’re never getting anywhere near the outer cheeks, let alone the inner ones. Blech.

I think this next one was on drugs. Or maybe he’s just an asshole.

I continue to video taped the abuse that your enjoying. In front of you is your newest mistress. Clad in her thigh high boots.
She orders you to lick and kiss her boots as a small snake is placed over your shoulders. As you get to the top of her boots. You catch the aroma of her pussy juices as you beg to eat her raw ****. She tells you ” NO” your not worthy of her honey as she forces you to suck on the the tip of the strapped on dildo. she then kisses you as I fuck you from behind. You are now allowed to cum.. as you finally get your wish of chewing on her clit, and fingering her ass.. When done, you are ordered to clean up the sexual mess that was made in nakedness of our presence.. as me and your new Mistress fuck each other, as we laugh at your whoreness…SUCH A SUBMISSIVE SLUTTY WHORE!!!

Yes, I edited out that four-letter word I hate so much. I don’t want it on my blog. As for the rest… are you fucking kidding me???? Mistress? Strap-on? Submissive? Snake?? In what universe? Know your audience, pervies. This one made me crave a hot shower immediately. I repeat, blech.

Aaaaand then there’s this guy:

Hello, we far enouigh apart it would never happen but my spanking method is to lube up ass hole and pussy . Stick thumb up ass hole and two or three fingers in pussy and bend you over my knees and spank your ass cheeks one at the time till they are cherry red while rubbing fingers together on the inside of you.
Just my way. Let me know what you think.

Well, since you asked — I think that’s one of the most disgusting spanking scenarios I’ve ever read. And trust me, honey — you could live next door and it would still never happen. You like double penetration so much? Put a gag in your mouth and stick a dried corncob up your ass. Unlubed.

I don’t usually do this with the CHoS, but I feel like it this time — I got a very nice correspondence this week, and completely unexpected.

Beautiful smile! You are a very attractive and sexy woman.

Well, damn. Thank you. I needed to hear that. ‘Cause you know what? After months of isolation, I’m not feeling attractive or sexy. My hair is overgrown, frizzy, and streaked with gray. I can’t remember the last time I wore makeup or put on something pretty. I’ve been living in sloppy, over-sized clothes. And the longer this goes on, the longer it feels like the New Normal. Covid-19 is showing no signs of leveling off; it’s still on the rise. And now, with all the protests and people crowded together, you know damn well there’s going to be a huge spike in cases. I’m thinking we can pretty much kiss the rest of 2020 goodbye, and it’s only June. People are angry and hurting and scared and it’s hard to imagine that we’ll ever be able to joyously and freely congregate again.

So, my spirits are flagging a little. I take my bits and pieces of humor and kindness wherever I can, and pass them on whenever I can. Because it’s all I can do. And keep moving forward.

Be safe, y’all. And do yourself a favor… turn off the news and social media for a while now and then. Because marinating in this suckage every waking hour is bad for our health. Watch your favorite old movies. Read a book. FaceTime your friends. Whatever floats your boat, so that you can forget all this crap for a while. ♥

Kink in the time of Covid-19

Before I get to the subject of this post, an update on my friend with the virus. She is in the middle of Week #3. Still having fevers, still having O2 drops, and her exercise for the day is taking a shower. She has made two trips to the ER. However, her lungs are clear and unaffected, so the hope is that her body is simply exhausted and will rally after a time.

I remind you — she is fit, strong, and only 31 years old. You guys do not want this virus.

Anyway, enough of that.

In these days of social distancing and quarantining, if you’re a spanko and you’re fortunate enough to live with a spanking partner, more power to you. If you don’t… then as far as getting these needs met, you’re essentially screwed. No parties. No play dates. Not even small get-togethers, because even if you do have a limited gathering, you have to maintain distance. Anything tactile is off the table for now. Which cuts out… well, everything.

So what are people doing in efforts for some satisfaction? Seems you can do one of two things. You can either satisfy the physical craving and self-spank, or you can forgo the impact and focus on the head space part of things, by either FaceTiming/Zooming or talking on the phone. In other words, virtual scenes.


Some people are blessed with wonderful imaginations. Their minds can take them into the deepest and darkest recesses, simulating what they desire. They can take a paddle to themselves while imagining that Mr. or Ms. Deliciously Toppy is doing it. Or they can use a visual on a screen or a voice on the phone and put themselves into the same head space they feel when it’s in person.

Sadly, I’m not one of those people.

I have tried self-spanking a few times. I figured if I could achieve sexual satisfaction by masturbating, I could scratch the spanking itch myself, right? Wrong. It is so not the same. First, it’s physically awkward, and very hard on the shoulder. I don’t need anymore shoulder issues after dealing with shoulder impingement syndrome all last year. Second, there is no way I can get the angle and speed and distance good enough to make a proper impact. And finally, perhaps most important, it makes me feel ridiculous. Not the feeling I’m going for.

So then we move onto the virtual stuff. Instantly, Zoom and FaceTime are out for me on my old computer. It doesn’t have a built-in mic, and my every effort to use an external mic has failed. For whatever reason, I get picture, but no audio. My tech practically took the thing apart and couldn’t figure out what was wrong. So until I get a new computer, that’s out. I suppose I could video chat on my phone, but the small screen is a hindrance.

So that leaves the phone. A disembodied voice + my imagination. Not something I’ve ever found fulfilling in the past. But in these times, needs must. We do what we can. We try things. We endeavor to broaden our horizons. Especially someone like me, whose horizons are admittedly rather narrow.

I was talking with a gentleman from, a very interesting and bright man, good conversationalist, funny. He is local, but we had already determined that our kinks in person wouldn’t mesh properly. No one’s fault; it is what it is. However, since no one is doing anything in person right now anyway, he suggested we try a phone scene. He said he had a lot of experience weaving fantasy scenarios and all I would have to do is stay engaged and keep answering his questions, so he’d know in which direction to go (or not).

Because he was so articulate and seemed confident about his abilities, I thought, oh, what the hell. Go for it. Life is short, and fun is at a premium right now. It’s human contact, it’s kink, it’s exciting. Give it a shot.

So, last Monday, I called him at the time we’d designated, right on time. I had my cell plugged in so the battery wouldn’t die. Per his suggestion, I had water nearby and no TV or any other distractions on. We fell into easy conversation and the first hour or so was just vanilla get-to-know-you stuff.

Remember, I’m not a fan of the phone in general. I’d rather email or text people. About the only person I speak to regularly on the phone is John. That said… would you believe we were on the phone for six hours and twenty-seven minutes???

He was, as promised, very imaginative and there were no lags in the conversation. He needed a lot of feedback from me — whenever he said something or another, went in a particular direction, he’d ask me to rate how I liked it — a little, medium, a lot, extremely. Just saying “Yes” wasn’t enough. I can understand that; he had nothing else to read, not being able to see me, see my bodily reactions. A couple of times when the scenario went in a way I didn’t care for, he switched gears immediately without faltering. And he had a wonderful voice, deep and rich. A radio host voice. (And by the way, I saw his picture — he does not have a “face for radio,” as the saying goes. 😀 He’s quite the attractive man.)

I let myself feel, and to the best of my ability, I tried to imagine. My body reacted. We took breaks, used the bathroom, drank water, checked in, etc. But the action was almost continuous. Without spelling out any details, we went to some dark places, darker than I usually go, but I felt safe doing so. I came four times. When I was starting to feel rather selfish, he finally did too. Then we talked for about another 45 minutes to an hour.

Something of note happened, toward the end. After my third intense orgasm, I started to cry.

“What are you thinking right now?” he asked. “What do you want?”

Without thinking about it, I blurted, “I wish you were here! I want to feel your hands on me, your arms around me. I need impact, I need physical contact, I need I need I need…” and I kept babbling on and crying. He was very kind, and in a few minutes I calmed back down.

But there it was. I. Need. The. Real. Thing.

This was fun, and he was lovely. He worked hard to give me some pleasure. I did have an intense emotional release, and some laughs and titillation. I don’t regret doing it at all; I’m glad I did. But I don’t think I’ll be doing it again. Hell, I’d love to talk with this man again. As friends. He’s fascinating. And so damned smart. But virtual doesn’t cut it for me. It was hard for me to give the constant verbal feedback; in person, it’s not as necessary. You have breathing, you have body reactions, you have skin color. A bottom can simply sink into the space of the scene, stop talking and just feel. Is it better than nothing at all? I suppose. But I experienced a kind of rebound.

When we got off the phone, I was delirious with tiredness. It was nearly 3:00 a.m. But I was also really hungry, and still a bit keyed up; I couldn’t just shut everything off. So I made myself something to eat, then answered a couple of emails. Then I even did a bit more work. By the time I went to sleep, it was 4:30.

I was very relaxed but exhausted the next day, and in a fog of unreality. I went through the motions of the day, worked, managed to work out, although I had to break the session in two because I hit a wall and had to stop and take a nap. I finally caught up with my sleep and by Wednesday I felt back to normal.

And extremely frustrated. The craving for play had come back with a vengeance and a ferocity.

Not his fault. Not mine either. It’s just the way it is. I need what I need, and all the facsimiles and simulations and fantasies and discussions and pictures painted with words just won’t cut it.

For those of you who have better imaginations than I do, I salute you and I envy you your ability to suspend disbelief and immerse yourself in what’s available to you. Me? I don’t know when the hell people will be able to play in person again safely, but until then, looks like I’m going to do without it.

I’m working. I’m healthy. John is well. I have a place to live and I can make rent. Life goes on, and this is not the end of the world.

It’s just kinda fucking frustrating.

Have a great weekend, y’all. Please be safe and take care.

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