Community ♥

It’s been nearly a month since I posted, but really, there hasn’t been that much to write about. Well, except one huge thing that happened two weeks ago, and I haven’t had the time to talk about it since because of work and life and so forth. But now is a good breaking point to stop and reflect. Settle in and grab your beverage of choice.

Let’s backtrack a bit; you all know I dropped out of the public scene for all of 2019. It was a really dark time for me, one in which I felt like I didn’t belong anymore, I didn’t know who my friends were (with a few exceptions who stuck with me through it all). Come 2020, I was ready to reenter things. I reactivated FetLife, and in February, I went to a big national party after skipping the last two. I had a fabulous time, felt reconnected and renewed, and was looking forward to further adventures.

Then COVID-19 hit. And everything shut down. No parties. No play dates. No coffee dates. No anything, socially. I’d reentered the scene just in time to have it disappear.

Virtual meetings became the norm. Zoom, FaceTime, Skype, etc. The only way we could see our friends was on a computer screen. But it was better than nothing, right?

Except I couldn’t do any of that. Because I still had this old desktop that ran perfectly well with just one glitch: I couldn’t chat with anyone online. It didn’t have a built-in cam, and I tried three different external webcams, all with the same result: picture, but no sound. I had my computer tech take the system home with him and tear it apart, trying to find out what was wrong, and he couldn’t. So I knew I wouldn’t be able to do virtual chat with anyone until I got a new computer system.

Which I couldn’t afford.

However, my birthday is at the end of September. And John was making noises about how I should start shopping and researching computer systems. I knew what that meant; he was going to buy me a new system for my birthday. He does stuff like that. I mean, he bought me my current system, and insisted I get the best. When I was going to buy a 19-inch monitor, he said live a little, get a 21-inch one. This system has served me well, and still runs well (and quickly), save for that webcam issue. But perhaps it was time to move on. After all, I was still on Windows 7 and Word 2010.

Online, I complained endlessly to anyone who would listen about how I couldn’t cam with anyone. People said things like “You really need to upgrade.” Sure, okay. Wanna buy me a new computer?? Tell me something I don’t know.

A couple of weeks ago, my dear friend Jay and I were having our usual daily email exchange, and she cryptically told me that she’d “done a thing” and had help with it. That I would be getting a package from Fed-Ex that I’d have to sign for, and it would be coming from Zack’s address. (You remember Zack from 50 Freaks; I had several pictures of him and me in my party blog.) Um… what? She said she knew it was my birthday next month and she had planned an early surprise gift. She had one request: when I got it and opened it, she wanted me to record my reactions on my phone.

What on earth had she been up to?? I couldn’t imagine what it was. John couldn’t either.

The package was supposed to arrive sometime Thursday… but then midday Jay got a notification that it was now bumped to sometime Friday. (Of course, they don’t give you a time window — they just say “sometime before end of day.”) Argh. Well, at least I was going to be home all day and evening Friday, right? So we waited.

On Friday, I got up early and got as much work done as I could. Jay had warned me that once the package arrived, I wouldn’t be getting much of anything done for the rest of the day. Good grief, this was getting more and more intriguing. And at 2:15, my doorbell rang. Yup, Fed-Ex. A huge, heavy box. I signed for it and dragged it inside. Then, as requested, I set up my phone to record my opening it. I grabbed a sharp knife and hit the record button.

Oh. My. God.

There was a ton of packing material, piles of bubble wrap, and two distinctly wrapped packages within. Recording all the while, I babbled in confusion as I tore through things, trying to figure out what the hell I was looking at here. And then I saw the laptop case.

No. They didn’t.

They did.

I fumbled and fumfered around with the case; I was so flustered, I couldn’t even get the damn thing open! Finally I did, and then I pulled out the new Asus Chromebook. Oh. My. God.

When I lifted the lid, I saw a couple of sheets of paper within. One was a note from Zack, explaining everything that was included, and letting me know that he had installed software to allow him to remotely get into my computer, help me figure things out, copy over all my files, etc. The other sheet was from Jay. Along with a very loving note, she let me know that this had been a group effort; she’d contacted several people and gotten contributions from them. She listed all of them and their FetLife/Twitter names. And on the other side was a list of messages from all the people. Besides Jay and Zack, ten other people had contributed to this. When I saw the messages, the waterworks started.

Mind you, I was being recorded. So here I was, sobbing, babbling incoherently, sitting on the carpet fumbling about with all this wrapping detritus around me, thanking Jay and Zack, saying how much I loved everyone, that I couldn’t believe they did this, that I didn’t have the faintest idea what to do with this right now because I’m such a techno-dork… and then I shut off the recorder.

Before I finished unwrapping the gift(s).

There was still another package to open. They thought of everything.

Besides the laptop and its new travel case, there was a separate, larger monitor. A separate webcam, because Zack said the built-in cam was a little grainy. Plugs and connectors and other things I didn’t recognize. And a wireless mouse.

The laptop was loaded with software. Microsoft Office 2016, which Zack said was the latest and the best before they went to that Microsoft 365 nonsense that you sort of “rent” instead of buying the program. A full Adobe suite, including Acrobat and Photoshop. Zoom was loaded. Zack had even linked me into his streaming service, so I could watch things from his collection of shows and movies.

Unreal.

I ended up making a second recording to add my thanks for all the other stuff I’d discovered after I made the first one. Yes, I came off like a complete dork. But it was real. It was me, raw, overwhelmed and touched beyond belief.

Priorities. The first thing I did was upload the two recordings of my reactions and send them to both Jay and Zack. I took a selfie, in the midst of my sob-fest, with red nose and wet eyes and the whole shebang. I sent a tweet, linking nearly everyone involved, and attached the selfie, saying words couldn’t express what was in my heart, so here was a picture of me bawling with joy. For the three people who weren’t on Twitter, I texted two and emailed the third.

Zack told me that he’d be available that evening and would help me figure stuff out. After I had my nightly phone chat with John (and I cried all the way through that too), first thing I did was take a picture of the bits and pieces I couldn’t figure out and text it to Zack, and he explained what they were. I connected the laptop to my WiFi. Then we connected via Zoom (first time for me, using that) and then were online together for the next two hours. He was in my system remotely, so he could see everything that was going on, and after I let him into my desktop, he copied over all my files, pictures, and music. He showed me around some of the programs.

During our chat, my signal dropped twice and I lost the connection. I asked him what this could be, and he said perhaps I should reboot my router. I did that after our talk, but then the next time I tried the laptop, the signal dropped again. My desktop is connected to my router via Ethernet cable, so the signal never drops, and it never drops on my cell phone either, so I couldn’t understand why this was happening. I spent some time on the phone with AT&T, and they said my router is fine and the connection is strong. So, that’s the next project with Zack — try to work out why the signal to the laptop is glitchy and how to strengthen it without using an Ethernet cable. But that will be later. Also, I want to try to figure out how to sync my laptop and desktop. I’m still keeping the latter, so I’d like to be able to have whatever I do on one happen on the other, if that’s possible. I have so much to learn. Oh, and my work table now has the desktop, laptop, and extra monitor on it, and it’s too crowded. So I’m shopping for a small side table I can use for the laptop. Oh, and accessories like a lap tray and a cooling pad. And and and… I’m getting ahead of myself. This is all so new and exciting.

Back to that night — after I said goodbye to Zack, I played around with the laptop for a while longer, adding my email accounts, choosing a desktop picture and screen saver, adding my MalwareBytes account. At 10 p.m., I was still so wound up I was shaking, and I realized I hadn’t eaten any dinner. I shut everything down, figuring I’d done all I could for one night, and grabbed a KIND bar and a yogurt. The next day I went to John’s, but I didn’t bring the laptop with me — I figured I wanted to give John all my attention and it would be waiting for me when I came home. John was as blown away by this as I was. I think he was a little disappointed that he didn’t get to buy it for me, and he confessed to being worried that our friends would think he was cheap or something because he didn’t do this first. I assured him that they all knew he had intended to, but they just did it sooner!

So. Even though the bulk of this year has been a clusterfuck, even with pandemics and elections and protests and fires and general mayhem happening all around me… I got a wonderful gift. No, not the laptop and the accessories, although those were indeed wonderful. I got the gift of feeling loved. Of knowing how many people care about me. I still can’t believe all the preparation that went into this. First, Jay painstakingly contacted as many people as she could think of, collected the funds, coordinated the messages, kept in touch with everyone with updates. Then Zack took over, getting the system, loading all the software, packing everything so thoroughly and carefully. (I was popping bubble wrap for a week.) It was a labor of love by all, and I still can’t believe I was the recipient. Even two weeks later, writing about this makes me choke up.

And yes, I’m typing up this blog on my new laptop.

In this awful time of isolation and uncertainty, I feel very much loved. I belong.

I love you, Jay. I love you, Zack. I love all of you who contributed to this. When I finally get all this stuff figured out, I hope to Zoom or FaceTime with some of you.

Although I haven’t worn makeup in months and I have about an inch of gray roots and maybe I don’t want people seeing me after all…

SHUT UP, ERICA!

Take care, everyone. Stay safe and well. ♥

 

The State of Erica

So it’s been an interesting few weeks, ones of much soul searching and roller coaster emotions. I’ve learned a few things, made some mistakes. And now I think I’m ready to move forward once again.

One of the mistakes I made was breaking my own promise to myself and allowing politics to pervade my blog, Twitter and Facebook. The events of the past few months have consumed me, as they have many, and I let myself get swept up in venting. The reactions were enlightening and depressing at the same time. I got a lot of backlash, but not necessarily from the opposite polarity. I also was ignored, unfollowed and unfriended by people I least expected to do so. In times of emotional crisis, I find out time and again who cares about Erica, the entire person (even in her darkest, angriest, most unlikable times), and who just wants Erica Scott, the witty, snarky spanko showing off her butt. I find out who my friends are. It’s a painful process, but a necessary one, I guess.

Look, I get it. This is a spanking blog. Politics can be read anywhere, anytime, any place these days, ad nauseam. When one comes to a spanking blog, one wants to read about spanking, yes? Same deal with followers on Twitter and other social media. Therefore, for the bulk of my venting, I have found two secret groups of Facebook (“secret” meaning that posts only show to the group members) where people can share their political concerns and fears. Likewise, I started another Twitter account and when I feel like retweeting the Orange Menace’s stupid posts and adding my own comments, or just want to rant about whatever’s going on, I use that. And as for here, I will not be posting anymore strictly political posts. They get crickets, for one, and then I have to put up with rude rebuttals from the likes of people who are so stupid, they need to be told how to spell their own name. So, it’s back to spanky stuff.

There’s just one problem with that; lately, I simply don’t have spanky stuff to post. I am not going to explain why, so please don’t ask, but I have not played (except for a brief moment at a holiday party) in over three months. My parties are few and far between, and my shoots are pretty much down to once in a great while. And I’m tired of hashing and rehashing the same tired discussions we’ve all seen a million times. Therefore, this blog will probably be periodic rather than regular. When the spirit moves me, when I have something fun and topical to report, I will do so. For example, in a couple of weeks we’re going to a big party in Vegas for a few days, so no doubt I’ll have some fun stories from that. But I’m no longer going to rack my brain trying to come up with things to write. I’ve written and written and written, for years. And lately, I’m (thankfully) so busy with work, I don’t have as much time for blogging anyway. So, when time passes between blogs, don’t fret. I’m still around. I’m just going to be here on a “need to post” basis from now on.

Oh, and mind you, I am not saying that I’ll never slip in some political snarky humor again, here and there. I mean, it’s inevitable, since this entire administration is one big punchline.

And with that, on to my most excellent segue*…

Last week, Triple A Spanking released a clip that I shot with them three years ago. In it, John Osborne and I play husband and wife, and we are supposed to go to a gathering given by one of his friends. However, because I cannot stomach this friend, I make up a bunch of lies, including that I’m sick, to get out of going. So, what did John call this film about lying liars?

Yup, he went there… 😀

(Yes, I edited that last photo. I hate those freaking straight-on shots! Unless you’re a proctologist, you don’t need to be getting up in there.)

I confess, seeing that title made me laugh harder than I had in weeks. So, who used that phrase better? John Osborne…

… or Crack-Whore Barbie Con-job?

I’d say John Osborne for the win!

So that’s it for now. Back to work with me, and then I’m off to spend the pre-Valentine’s Day weekend with my beloved. ♥ And no, we are not going to see “Fifty Shades Darker”!

Have a great weekend. y’all.

*For those who were educated at Cheeto-face University, that word is pronounced “seg-way,” not “seg-yoo.” 😛

New from Northern Spanking!

A little over a month ago, I joined Alex Reynolds and Paul Kennedy to create a custom shoot for one of her clients. He was very pleased with it and wrote a gracious note to Alex, which she shared with me. Even better, he gave them the OK to post the video publicly on their Northern Spanking site, so everyone who wants to can enjoy it.

It’s called “Protester Punished,” and Paul plays a corporate fat-cat property developer — who just happens to have an environmental activist daughter (Alex). I play Paul’s wife/Alex’s stepmother, and I have my own agenda, which comes out about halfway through the video.

I want to share my two favorite pictures — sorry, nary a bottom in sight, but I love all our facial expressions! Here’s the one I call “Uh oh, Alex is in trouble…”

I especially liked Michael Masterson’s comment about Paul’s face, that he has “a ‘Joker’ smirk.” You can’t unsee it, can you!

And then, when the tables turn, it’s “Uh oh, my turn.”

 

For those who would like to see some action shots, you can go here for a gallery of them. Click on each thumbnail for a full-sized picture.

Speaking of Alex, I am seeing her and SpankCake on Wednesday for a belated birthday dinner and one of our marathon chats. It’s been a long time and we have much to catch up on. Wednesday just happens to be John’s birthday — I won’t be seeing him until Friday, but perhaps we can take a selfie birthday greeting and send it to him while at dinner. 🙂

In other news… there is no other news. I have much work to do and I’m just taking this quickie break to catch up. Hope everyone had a nice weekend!

And now for something completely different…

…and something you’ll never see again.

Yeah. Me in a cheerleader outfit.

It’s true. My contribution to Sarah Gregory’s Cheerleader Spankings site is up. I am a most reluctant cheerleader (hence the video name Cheerless Cheerleader) grudgingly agreeing to indulge hubby John’s fantasy. He said he’d always wanted to “fuck a cheerleader,” and I told him to please, be my guest, find one and knock himself out! But noooo, it had to be me. (sigh) Anyway, you can read all about it on Chief John’s Spanking Blogg, here. Lots of pictures and a couple of GIFs too.

“Well? Are you happy now??” Sheesh. The things we have to do to please our mates.

And in other news: Pandora Blake is back!!!! She won her battle with ATVOD! Read all about it. Now that’s something to cheer about. Congratulations, Pandora, and here’s to lots more wonderful videos from you.

Back to work I go…

The art of clever bratting

Yeah, I’m still here. I figured I’d come back when I had something fun to post. Today, I do.

In my nearly 20 years in the scene, people have often read my thoughts on bratting, a spanko behavior that has a bad reputation with many. Why? Because it’s not done cleverly and with a light touch — too often, it’s executed in a heavy-handed manner that is more annoying than provocative. I’ll reiterate my personal favorite metaphor: Clever bratting is a feather tickling a top’s nose, not an anvil slamming onto his foot.

Good bratting is a tease, and if done right, should make the top smile in spite of himself. He should want to spank the minx’s bottom, not wring her neck.

What got me started on this? Recently, Sarah Gregory released a video, starring Kajira Bound and UlfSayer, called “Lumberjack Spanking.” In it, U played a Canadian lumberjack (complete with green flannel plaid shirt) and K is a bratty American, making fun of him until he decides to take her in hand. You can read about it here, and in the meantime, here’s a picture:

What of it? Of course, being of a certain age, I couldn’t help but think of Monty Python when I saw this, and their classic “Lumberjack Song.” A show of hands — who hasn’t heard of it? Who hasn’t heard of Monty Python? (Spankos, of course you have, even if you don’t think so. Who among us has never heard the lines “Bad Zoot! Naughty Zoot!”) Anyway, for those who don’t recall, the Lumberjack Song starts out with a man singing about being all macho and slowly slides into a ditty about a cross-dresser, while his sweetheart goes from beaming happily to openly weeping. (No, it’s not politically correct. But come on, it’s Monty Python.)

In a mischievous moment, I took this link, pasted it into a tweet, and posted it to K & U, since we all follow one another on Twitter. I figured it was good for a giggle or two.

But Kajira grabbed the brat ball and ran with it.

Last weekend, while John and I were at lunch, I was thumbing through my Twitter notifications and saw that U had replied to my tweet (which K had liked, retweeted and commented on). It seems the alarm on his phone had “somehow” been changed to the Lumberjack Song.

I burst out laughing in the middle of the restaurant, no doubt startling everyone around me. Brilliance. Sheer brilliance.

But wait, there’s more. Today, U tweeted that K had also purchased napkins in a plaid flannel pattern. I damn near fell off my chair.

This, my friends, is a classic example of clever bratting. It’s funny. It’s creative. It harms no one, insults no one, doesn’t mess up anyone’s clothes or break anything. The payback will be as fun as the execution of the prank. Silly String and water guns are for the Brat Bush League. Kajira has firmly established herself as being in the Majors.

I’m so proud.

As an aside, I’ve had an affinity for the Lumberjack Song for a long time. Years ago, when we were at Shadow Lane, John began a tradition of singing to me, when I couldn’t get out of bed during the day:

♪ She’s a cutie-pie and she’s OK,
She’s spanked all night and she sleeps all day!♫

😀

(To everyone who commented on my last post, or who wrote to me, who cared, thank you. I’ll have more about that another time. Today, I just wanted some fun.)

Guess what’s on my brain?

It’s been a while, kids. Two weeks ago when Steve and I had our outdoor adventure, the focus was more on exhibitionism and very little on spanking. Last week, Steve was away on a ski trip. And this week, he has a cold.

In times like these, I find that pretty much anything and everything makes me think of spanking. Can any of you relate? I’m sure you can.

Yesterday, I had my first appointment with a new chiropractor. I have lifelong back issues and I have been seeing one chiro or another since I was twelve. Recently my regular guy closed his practice, and I’ve been searching for a new one. Finding a good chiropractor can be quite the needle search, as many of them want to claim your body and soul and have you lying on their tables in perpetuity.

But I liked this new guy. He was quite jovial, but clearly knew his stuff, and he’d gotten several five-star Yelp reviews. He kept marveling at how “little” I was, which is ridiculous, but I guess he does get to wrestle some rather sizable bodies. Plus, he’s a big bear of a man at about 6′ 3″. “What do you weigh, about forty pounds?” he joked as he manipulated my spine.

At one point he left me for a minute or two while he checked on another patient, and then popped his head back in the door.

“You doing OK there, little girl?”

I am embarrassed to admit the ridiculously intense jolt of arousal I felt when he said that. Of course, because it’s a phrase a grown woman might hear during spanking play. Even though I’m not into age-play, the phrases “young lady” and “little girl” have always pushed my buttons. I covered up my embarrassment by answering, “Wow, it’s been a while since anyone has called me that.” (Actually, it hasn’t.)

It was pretty amusing when he was checking out my sciatica and commented that I had a lot of tightness in my butt muscles. Gee, I wonder why. I wanted to ask if twenty years of regular ass pummeling affects the surrounding muscles and tissues, but refrained.

Then last night, Jimmy Fallon had one of his “Tight Pants” skits. For those of you who are unfamiliar, it’s one of those comedy bit that is so dumb, it’s funny. Basically, Jimmy lives in a small town where he’s the only one who wears tight pants, and so he dances around in tight white jeans, a brightly colored shirt and a bowl haircut, bragging about his tight pants. Then someone else — a guest star — will challenge him, also wearing tight white jeans and a bowl haircut. Challengers have included Will Ferrell, Christina Aguilera, and of course, the greatest ass in tight pants, Jennifer Lopez. Jimmy always ends up getting threatened and chased out of town.

In case you’d like to see the short sketch, go here (it’s worth it just to hear Lopez call Fallon “a little bitch”). But be forewarned: the inane “Tight Pants” song will worm its way into your brain and never leave.

So of course, all this business of tight pants and butt wriggling makes me think of next week’s spanko extravaganza in Vegas, where I will get to wear my own tight pants (and have them taken down). I want and need this party so badly, I’m jumping out of my skin.

And finally, a blast from the recent past — remember my Spanking Court clips? I had mentioned a while back that although the studio was out of business, their entire clip library was being re-edited and re-released, little by little. Last week, I saw on Twitter that they released one of mine — the one where the judge ordered the court disciplinarian to give me 200 strokes with a heavy wooden paddle for mouthing off. Holy crap. I think that was the hardest scene I’ve ever done on video, and it was the first one where I cried on camera. You can read about it here. Aptly, the clip has been named “For Crying Out Loud.” So of course, memories of past shoots have flooded my brain.

So there will be no pre-party warm-up for me. But it’s OK. Just have to get through this week and next, and my massive itch will be scratched repeatedly.

Hurry hurry hurry February 25!