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 “wood”

The more I experience…

…the less I know, it seems. Specifically, about implements.


The above photo contains but a mere sampling of what’s out there to use on a spanking bottom. I’ve probably felt them all at some point or another. You’d think after 20+ years, I’d be an expert on implements and how they feel. But, aside from some general knowledge, I remain woefully in the dark. Which doesn’t help my ass any.

This post was precipitated by my getting together with an old FetLife friend for coffee last week, someone I haven’t seen in seven years. We chatted it up for a couple of hours and of course the subject of implements came up. He showed me a picture on his phone of his “punishment paddle” and I immediately said that would be a hard limit for me.

I’ve often said I don’t like wood and I prefer leather. However, “wood” is ridiculously general — it doesn’t account for the myriad types, thicknesses, etc. All wooden implements are not created equal. All woods are not created equal. I have heard many times that some are lighter, some are dense, some are quite tolerable and others are practically unbearable. But damned if I know which is which.

I do know that thick, heavy frat-style wooden paddles are a hard limit. When I said nay to my friend’s photo, he asked why. I said it’s just pure pain to me, no pleasure whatsoever, and the pain is BAD. I can’t absorb the impact; it thuds me down to the bone. “Even if it’s lower on the butt? Maybe people are hitting you too high with it,” he suggested. Nope. Even if it’s on the fleshiest part of my sit spots, I feel this horrible, heavy thud deep within my sit bones, and it’s wretched. I’m a tad more willing about other wood, like lighter paddles, hairbrushes and spoons, but even those are hard for me to take. I will take them on video a lot more willingly than in a private scene that’s for mutual pleasure, because they really don’t pleasure me.

So, generally, one would think leather is the ticket for me, right? Not necessarily. Because all leather implements aren’t created equal either, damn them. Thickness comes into play again, as well as wear. A buttery soft, well worn flexible strap feels entirely different from a stiff brand new one. Straps can run the gamut from a sensual snap to sheer agony. And I can’t tell just from looking at them which it’s going to be. I have made godawful mistakes in choosing implements at parties before: sometimes the most innocent looking items can be utter torture. Conversely, sometime the items that look the meanest can be fairly innocuous.

I like leather implements in general. But one of the worst things I ever felt was a double razor strap. Yeah, it was flexible. It was also thick, very heavy and very thuddy. I have made many people laugh by saying it felt like being hit with a side of beef.

And speaking of flexibility — if the give of leather feels so much more acceptable to me, then wouldn’t it stand to reason that other materials with give would also work?

Again, not necessarily.

I recall a scene at a party, many years ago, when I was playing with a top I knew well, and I knew the feel of his implements. He had a strap I loved to hate, and he wielded it with precision and evil intent. After I’d played a prank on him, he put a blindfold on me and then proceeded to strap the bejesus out of me. From the start, it hurt like hell, like nothing I remembered. I screamed and squawked and fussed, and he laughed at me. “What’s wrong?” he taunted. “It’s just my strap! You’ve felt it before! What’s the matter, are you losing your tolerance?” I gritted my teeth and bore it, took all he gave, even though my mind was screaming, “What the hell is wrong with me? Why can’t I take this? Why is this hurting so much?? Aaaaaaaagh!” Perhaps I was having an off night? A really off night?

It wasn’t until the next day that I found out from his girlfriend that the strap was NOT leather — it was rubber. Hence the blindfold, so I couldn’t see it. Grrrrr. I was marked like crazy, too. Deep bruises.

So now rubber is pretty much a hard limit as well. Although I guess Delrin is a sort of rubber, or similar? I will take a Delrin cane, although they hurt like a bitch.

Even canes don’t all feel the same. If I say in a general statement that canes are OK to use on me, what am I letting myself in for? I’ve never experienced a Singapore-style cane, nor do I want to. But a proper rattan caning, with a thin whippy one, in the hands of someone who knows what they’re doing? Intense, but in the right head space, amazing.

I have felt everything, I think. From canes to belts to brushes to carpet beaters to tawses to crops to paddles to whips. I used to pride myself on what I could take. Nowadays, I find my desires changing. I still like to play hard… but only, ONLY if it’s someone whom I know is going to be measured, even, and careful. I no longer have any tolerance for stray shots–too high, too low, wrapping to the sides. I don’t like unevenness in cheekage. These days, I appreciate accurate and skilled players more than ever. The types I can trust with anything in their hands, no matter what it is, and know I’ll be safe and given just the right amount of pain. It’s a rarity, I’m afraid. Tops can be wonderful and kind and sensitive and skillful and many wonderful things, but still not adept with all the toys.

Perhaps now that I’m older, now that I’ve been doing this for a while, I don’t feel like I have to prove myself? (And to whom… to the scene, or to my own self?) I no longer have to show the world that I can get my ass beat all to hell with everything but the weed whacker. Or maybe I just don’t want that much pain and damage anymore? I really don’t know. But it does make me wish I understood the makings, the physics of implements better, so I could make the best choices for my play. Because, like everything else, I want quality over quantity.

But of course, there’s always hands. 🙂

Speaking of everything but the weed whacker — remember this?


Anyone else find they have been fooled by implements before? Or that something they used to like is no longer acceptable? Vice versa? Has anyone’s tolerance levels changed?

Erica has the last word on wood

Me again! You know, with the Shadow Lane party coming up in three weeks, I thought it was time for a friendly little PSA (Public Spanking Announcement, that is). 🙂

These weekends are quite the extravaganza, and people attend for different reasons. Some enjoy socializing with their friends from around the country and beyond. Others are shameless spank hos (raising hand sheepishly) who love to play as much as possible, along with the aforementioned socializing. However, despite my reputation for being Little Miss Hard-Ass From Hell (as Razor Ryan once called me), I have learned from painful experience that pacing is absolutely essential. I need to last for three days. And while the spirit is willing, the flesh is sometimes rather uncooperative, especially if it’s been pounded on with heavy artillery.

So, regarding those frat paddles and other heavy wooden slabs some of y’all call toys?

(Thanks to my buddy Zelle, who created this graphic just for me!)

That’s right, folks. On these weekends, my bottom is a no-wood zone. OK, canes are an exception, as long as the wielder knows what he’s doing. Or even some lighter, thinner wooden implements, like a lightweight hairbrush, that sting but don’t feel like you’re hitting me with a table leg. But leave those frat paddles et. al. in your toy bag.

Mind you, I’m not speaking for all spankees, just myself. However, you may want to take heed: Many of us bottoms endeavor to enter the weekend on a lighter note and then build up. These heavy implements tend to mark and bruise, and even if they don’t, they impart a whole lot of pain. And it is usually considered very poor form to mark a bottom at the onset of a three (or four, or five, for some) day spanking weekend. Oh, you can do it, if you’re absolutely determined to do so. But you might find that everyone but the most diehard masochists will treat you like you had garlic and onions with limburger cheese sauce for dinner: they will stay away. Many other tops don’t like to spank a bottom that is already all bruised up, so these poor prematurely marked spankees will be deprived. Not nice.

I don’t care how finely crafted the implement is. Some of you actually make these things yourselves — I don’t care. I don’t care how long you sanded, polished and smoothed it. I don’t care if you even cut the fucking tree down yourself. The answer is still NO.

Yeah, I know your hands hurt. Our butts hurt more. Boo hoo. If your hands give out, then go for some leather. Or, here’s a concept… (gasp) Don’t spank so @#$%ing hard, maybe? 😀  Just a thought. Could work. Or not.

So, what’s our mantra for the Shadow Lane weekend? Pace ourselves! Happy hands, happy bottoms. Win-win.

Oh, and that last word I mentioned in the blog title? Here ya go; any questions?

Think you’re pretty tough, huh?
Not so tough now! Say bye-BYE….

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