PLEASE NOTE: This blog contains adult subjects and content, and because of Google/Blogger's recent nonsense, I HAVE MOVED TO WORDPRESS. For my enlightened friends who wish to visit me in my new home, it's Please bookmark it!

The rest of you? Please take your judge-y selves somewhere more wholesome, like here:

Go on.... shoo!

Thursday, September 27, 2012

TMI Thursday

Definitely Too Much Information, but it's quite funny as well, I think.

We're all adults here, right? OK.

You guys know me pretty well by now. You know that most of the time, after an intense spanking session, I'm done. I'm limp, happily drained of tension, as blissfully indolent as a cat napping in sunshine. All I have energy for is to fix myself a snack and write a blog.

Most of the time. But there are other times when I really, really need to take care of business. Get off. Yes, masturbate. The other night was one of those times.

So I retrieved the trusty old Pocket Rocket. It's not all that efficient, but it's quiet and small and it was inexpensive. (Have you checked out the cost of some sex toys out there?? Geezus, it's cheaper to hire a professional escort to get you off.) Turned it on, and... nothing. Ugh.

Probably a dead battery. Muttering in frustration, I went into the kitchen and retrieved a fresh pack of AA batteries from the tool drawer. Pulled out the old battery and inserted a new one, turned it on, and... nothing. The thing was dead.

"Dammit!" I yelled, hurling it in the trash. Stupid piece of junk. Now what?? I was feeling the need more than ever. And for another bit of TMI, my fingers simply don't cut it. They lack the speed and intensity of battery-powered pleasuring.

Well, to paraphrase an old saying, necessity is the mother of improvisation. I went to the linen closet, pulled out the box of assorted cloths and rags I use for dusting, and selected a clean, soft cloth. Then I wrapped it tightly, around and around...

... the head of my electric toothbrush.

Oh, grow up. :-Þ  Like no one's ever done that before. Sometimes, a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.

And BTW, it worked splendidly. :-D

Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Better late than never, right?

I'm late with my birthday spanking blog, I know. Not like me to be off my schedule, OCD as I am. But it's been an unusual birthday.

Before I get to yesterday's festivities, I need to touch on the weekend a bit more. I know John wanted to make it wonderful and special; he always does. But the timing couldn't have been worse. The man was absolutely trashed; he'd just come off two grueling weeks of insane hours on a project from which he got summarily removed at the end, he had a bad cold and wrenched back. I know he was trying to put on a good face, especially on Saturday night, and I love him for it. But I knew better.

As soon as we got home from our lovely dinner and dessert, he fell asleep on the couch. I was worried about him and didn't sleep well. And the next day, I guess it all kind of caved in on him, and he was despondent. He was dreading going back to work the next day, because of the manager who had been so rude to him. He felt like a failure because he'd done his job to the best of his ability (and then some) and it wasn't appreciated. I know John; I know a great deal of his self-esteem is tied up with his work, and this was killer. When I saw him like this, the strain of the past couple of weeks caught up to me as well, and I burst into tears in the restaurant at brunch. Not good.

We went home, and I tried my best to give him a pep talk. Regarding the manager who'd yelled at him on Friday, I reminded John that this guy has always had a bad temper; he blows off, and then he forgets about it and it's like nothing happened. Chances are, that was the case this time as well. And if John was worried about it, perhaps he should go talk to him the next morning. John said, "Well, I'll wait to see if I bump into him in the kitchen or something." "No," I said. "Don't wait. Get it over with; go see him first thing."

When I went home, I felt like crap. Worried about John, and yeah, selfishly sad about my birthday and my own mixed feelings about it. It dawned on me, after the fact, that for the first time in 16 years, John hadn't sent me birthday flowers. Not that I think that's my due, but it's something he always does. And he always sends them early, anywhere from a couple of days to a week prior to the date. My logical mind said, "Don't take it personally; he's been in hell the last two weeks." But my inner, insecure little self said, "You're not a priority in his life anymore. You're too damned old. It's his work, then his mother/family, then you."

Monday morning, John sent me a text, saying that I was right; he'd talked with the manager and the guy was fine, friendly, even thanked him for his work. He was hugely relieved (as was I). We have a silly couple-y thing we do: we sign all correspondence (email, texts) to each other with LYVM (Love You Very Much). This time, John signed off with "LYMTYCI."

Took me a minute, but I figured it out. "Love You More Than You Can Imagine."

I felt better. I worked out, came home, showered and dressed and made up... and then Mr. D called. More bad news about the neighbor he's been caretaking. Really bad. He offered to come over later that evening, but I said no; I knew his heart wouldn't be in it, I could hear it in his voice. He suggested the next day, and I said yes. He kept apologizing, but he really didn't have anything to apologize for. After we hung up, I thought, "Fuck it. Let it go, Erica. It's life. Life doesn't revolve around you and your damned birthday. Forget about it." I stripped off all the nice clothes I'd put on, laid them out to put back on the next day.

Yesterday morning, it felt like a different world. I'd had a call into the building manager to change my A/C filter, and he came over and did so. Instantly, I could feel a better flow of air from the vents. Plus, the weather finally gave us a break and dropped into the 80s. Amazing how life always feels better when you're physically comfortable. Then, later in the morning, my doorbell rang. It was a delivery for me... a massive bouquet of long-stemmed peach roses. What John always sends to me. My spirits kicked up another notch. I love you more than you can imagine as well, sweetie.

Then, it was Mr. D time. He arrived around 1:30, and he brought me flowers! A beautiful flower box filled with big, bright sunflowers and two-toned yellow/orange roses, with greenery. I went from no flowers to two bouquets. On September 25, three days after the fact. Talk about surprises. :-)

We sat and talked for a long time, catching up. He told me about his vacation, and then what was going on with his neighbor. I told him about the past couple of weeks: John's work hell, my stepfather losing his license, etc. Before we started our play, he had to make a call to his friend's doctor about some meds he was supposed to get which had been denied by the pharmacy. Of course, he got snarled up in a mess of being on hold, being disconnected, listening to recorded "Your call is important to us" messages, blah blah blah. But finally, that was done and it was birthday spanking time.

My entire body and soul was craving it, by now. I wanted that sweet oblivion, that pain that clears my mind; I needed to go to my special place. He knew that, too. But he took his time, giving me slow swats, lingering with rubbing, stopping to lean over and whisper to me. Normally, I love all that. This time, I was half out of my mind with impatience.

So... once we'd moved to the bedroom, and he'd picked up a couple of implements, I lost it. When he paused yet again to speak to me, I snapped, "Stop. Talking."

"Excuse me?" he said. I grit my teeth. "I said, STOP. TALKING."

"Say that again?" he said, putting his hand on my bottom.

"Is there something wrong with your hearing?" I asked. "You said you just got your eyes checked; have you thought about having your ears checked too?"

Yeah, that was really rude. I didn't mean it, and he knew I didn't. But that tipped the scales.

Soon, I was moaning and muffling shrieks in the bedspread, and, as the expression goes, taking the Lord's name in vain. And he continued until I broke down. It didn't take very long.

"Let it go, baby," he murmured. "You need just a little more." I nodded. I knew I did. He finished me off, snapped a couple of pictures, then came down to the bed to soothe me.

What do you think, kids? Did I get a good birthday spanking?

We talked for a long time afterward. "So," he asked, "aside from the stress about John and all, how do you feel about this birthday? How do you feel about turning 55?" (It will be his turn, in five months.)

I didn't hesitate for a second. "I hate it. It sucks."

He seemed genuinely surprised. "Why?"

I have to stop for a second and interject something. Mr D is a very unusual man, y'all. He's a native Californian, but you wouldn't know it. It's like he comes from another culture altogether. He thinks ageing is wonderful. He thinks women grow hotter and more beautiful, the older they get. He is my age (sans five months), but he could pass for his late 30s. And he could get any of the young 'uns he wanted. But he doesn't want them; has zero interest in them. That blows me away, truly.

He's seen pictures of me from when I was younger, and he thinks I look better and prettier now. I don't get it. I really, really, really don't. I've never met anyone quite like this. When I told him that the first thing I'd do if I won the lottery is get a facelift, he was genuinely shocked. And upset with me.

Anyway, since I don't share his appreciation for age, I replied, "Because I feel old. I feel like life pretty much declines from this point on, with age and illness and so forth. Maybe it's just that I haven't had a very good year. No one wants to shoot with me anymore, I've had a lot of worry over John, I lost my mother, I lost [ST]... I feel like this whole year has been about saying goodbye, especially to my youth."

He leaned close and whispered, "Well, say hello to me."

Later, we went out to get a bite to eat, at a nearby Japanese restaurant, which turned out to be a good choice. I got a seafood salad and a side of brown rice, and he got a few orders of different sushi, and shared his eel with me (no wisecracks from any of you). And after we were done eating, he sang happy birthday to me, right at the table.

He'd gotten a call from CVS pharmacy, saying that one of the meds for his neighbor had been approved and was ready, so he had to get back home to pick it up before they closed at 9:00. It was now 8:10, so we had to hustle and get back to my place, so he could pick up his stuff and hit the road. I wished he didn't have to leave so quickly; I'd hoped he could linger, maybe watch a video, play a little more. But I was being greedy. His neighbor needed him.

Big hugs, many thank-yous, and he was out the door. I was just about to settle in, change my clothes, etc., when my phone rang. He hadn't been gone more than 30 seconds, but I knew it was him. So I snatched up the phone and playfully said, "Whaddaya want NOW?"

His growl came down over the phone. "Bring me your panties. Now. QUICK."

Oh, no! We'd forgotten the panty ritual! Giggling, I tore my panties off, balled them up in my fist and ran out of my apartment, down the hall and out to the foyer, where I saw him outside the door, grinning at me. I dashed over, opened the door and handed them to him.

I know. We're twisted. I told John that Mr. D takes my panties home every week and then trades them off the following week, and he yelped, "He has a panty fetish?? What kind of a sick @#$% is this guy??" LOL!

Here are my birthday flowers, plus some cards (yep, some people still give hard-copy cards!).

I snapped this with my cell phone, since my regular camera's battery was dead. For whatever reason, the color of John's roses are off. But just imagine that they are peach. :-)

Feeling very soft and at peace today. Finally. Like I said, better late than never.

Sunday, September 23, 2012

Fun stuff

Thank you to everyone who sent me birthday greetings/ecards/tweets/wall comments, etc. It was great fun at John's yesterday, checking on his computer every few hours for the various greetings. Wanted to share a couple of the fun things I received.

It wouldn't be a birthday without some sort of treat from my dear friend Dave Wolfe. He created a Dark Shadows card for me this time, with some clever Photoshopping and funny verbiage. So here I am in a compromising position with my heart-throb, in THE LOST EPISODE:

Here's the copy, since it's hard to read:



The master of the great house of Collinwood is both disturbed and thrilled this night; for he is the solitary witness of an eerie tableau that no one else can see nor hear. Barnabas Collins, for reasons unknown and unknowable, has been watching a couple from the future, yet-unborn ghosts living one hundred years hence of the quieter world of 1870.

They are Quentin Collins and his lover Erica Scott, and, unaware that their drama has an invisible audience, Quentin sternly but lovingly punishes Erica for meddling with things a woman ought to leave alone. Erica protests that she only scraped a bit of paint away from the magical portrait of her paramour that he had hidden away in the locked upper room of the mansion, hoping to discover the truth of the Curse of the Full Moon, and was curious to see Quentin with a snout and pointed ears, because wolves are really, really cute.


Our story continues after these words from Palmolive Paddles, as gentle to Tops' hands as they are tough on Bottoms.

LOL! I love you, Wolfie. Thank you.

And here's a fun image I found yesterday on my Facebook wall (I'm reasonably discreet there, but people seem to know my proclivities anyway):

I'm not even a Star Wars fan, but this made me laugh. Particularly when a friend commented: "The Empire Strikes Backsides." Thank you to the creator!

I wish I'd taken a picture of last night's cake. They were out of German chocolate cake, so, since they had several shelves of wonderful-looking cakes and cupcakes and cookies and so forth, I asked the guy behind the counter to recommend a really good chocolate choice. He pointed out an enormous Bundt cake topped with thick frosting and large slabs of solid chocolate and said, "This is one of our best-sellers, our See's Candy cake." Oh, that's all I needed to hear -- y'all know how much I love See's Candy. (It was either that or the Reese's Peanut Butter Cup cake, but John doesn't like peanut butter.) You should have seen the size of the hunk he put on the plate for us. I cut it in half and we had two normal-to-large pieces! I thought, I can't eat all this. I just put away a plate of fettucini with grilled vegetables. But I ate every damn crumb of it. :-D

Birthday spanking tomorrow...

Friday, September 21, 2012

Finally Friday

I'm glad it's Friday. I thought I'd feel more excited today, but at the moment, I'm simply wrung out. It's so @#$%ing hot and muggy here, and my building's A/C, which has held up like a trouper the past few hot weeks, seems to be having one of its fits today; the air coming out of the vents is sort of warmish, and the temperature is slowly climbing. Fortunately, I get to leave in a couple of hours. By the time I come home Sunday, it should be fixed.

It's been a couple of horrendous weeks for John, with work. Without going into excruciating detail, he has a tough job on the best of days, and lately, he's been in transition between two departments (which means he's been doing the work of both). In the last two weeks, he was involved with a dreadful pipe inspection, where he had to be the bad guy, reporting poor conditions and fighting with the contractors for the proper improvements. He shouldn't have even been there, considering this was for his former department, but one supervisor insisted he do it. He's been stressed to the max, worked insane hours, and this week, he tweaked his back and caught a cold to boot. But he kept persevering.

This morning, his old boss told him, "You're off the project; you never should have been on it in the first place. Your presence isn't welcome, it's disruptive." Nice! After all that work. Fortunately, his new boss met with him and told him just the opposite, so that helped. Now it's over. He's off the project, and I couldn't care less if that damned pipeline explodes. It's not his concern anymore. So, my poor exhausted sick man is dragging himself home this afternoon.

I don't think the birthday weekend is going to be very festive, what with John being half-dead at this point. But you know what? I don't care. All I want this weekend is John, all to myself. Not having to share him with his work or with his family. Anything else is gravy. I've been so worried about him, and all I want to do is hold him close.

He said he has special surprises for me; I'm sure they are lovely, but like I said, at this point, I just want him. I do have a special surprise for him, however; I bought new lingerie. :-) When he was working last weekend, I indulged in a little retail therapy (and hey, it was all on sale).

So we're going to one of our favorite restaurants tomorrow night, followed by the bakery/cafe I love, with that famous German chocolate cake (hope they'll have some available!). And then Monday, Mr. D returns. I do believe, once I get out of this hotbox and leave it behind for the weekend, some excitement will kick in.

Even though I feel like every single fucking minute of my advanced age this afternoon, I'm going to fake it till I make it. Already got a nice new pedicure, and soon I will take a comfortably tepid shower and wash my heat-bedraggled hair. Time to go have some fun.

Have a great weekend, y'all.

Wednesday, September 19, 2012

Guess what I need??

OK, kids. Enough of this off-topic sh... stuff. Vanilla is too depressing and politics/religion is too incendiary. Time to get back to basics.

Who wants to play a game? This is a really simple one: Guess What Erica Needs.

1. John is still killing himself with ridiculous hours this week and I'm driving him crazy with my worrying. Guess what I need?

2. After doing three batches of work for my new client, I invoiced them this week... for a whopping $122. Hot damn! I'm rich! Now I can pay for about four days of next month's rent! (heavy sigh) Guess what I need?

3. We had a nice couple of days' break from the extreme heat (it actually got down to the 90s! Break out the Snuggies!), but tomorrow, it's back up to the 100s. Guess what I need?

4. I spent four hours yesterday dealing with public transportation to get downtown to an appointment that took 15 minutes. My bouncy, noisy, rattling bus ride home was enhanced by a man sitting a few feet away, having a very animated conversation... with himself. Guess what I need?

5. Last night, someone on FetLife referenced "Fifty Shades of Grey" while discussing things one could do to add extra zing to a spanking. Now even FetLifers are using that pile of dreck as a reference?? I wanted to reach through the computer screen and throttle people at random. Guess what I need?

6. I am so irritable, I'm actually talking back to commercials on TV. An ad for seasoning came on, claiming that "Life is a pulled pork sandwich." WTF? OK, Madison Avenue. Life is a lot of things, but it most surely is not a fucking pulled pork sandwich. I don't even like pork, pulled or otherwise. Does that mean I'm dead? So yes, I shouted at the television screen. Guess what I need?

Time's up! What did you guess?

Was it this?

Good guess. I'm sure many think there are times I could use a straitjacket. But no, try again.

How about this?

OK, that's a close second. Very little in this life that stuffing oneself with chocolate won't ameliorate, at least for a little while. Not a win, though.

Oooh! This for sure, right?

Hmmm. It's not the right answer, but if I had a money tree, I certainly wouldn't cut it down.

Now for those of you who guessed I need a whole freaking lot of THIS:

You go to the head of the class!

(That's Tubaman Paul, by the way, doing the honors.)

It's only Wednesday? Can't I bypass the rest of this damn tedious week and get to the good stuff??

Monday, September 17, 2012

Most definitely OT -- RANT

I'm going to apologize in advance, y'all. I don't usually blog about anything to do with politics or religion. But I just read something that blew my head apart, and I simply cannot keep quiet.

WARNING: The following contains blasphemy. If this will offend you, please, please don't read it.

So, remember Todd Akin? The Missouri senator who, a couple of weeks ago, started a firestorm by claiming that women who are "legitimately raped" won't get pregnant, because their bodies will "shut it down"? Of course you do. It appears that the GOP is not too pleased with him (cue the understatement font here) and many have withdrawn their support for his re-election.

Today, his wife (someone actually married that asshat??) came out swinging, saying that the GOP's attempts to get her hubby to withdraw are akin to rape. (Say what??) Lulli Akin (what the @#$% kind of name is Lulli??) also claimed that their tyranny is reminiscent of the American Revolution. Gee, Lulli. Exaggerate much?

Later in the Talking Points Memo article that I read, Lulli is quoted as saying it doesn't matter if the campaign donations are small, because "God will increase them." So if Akin receives a paltry sum, all that the campaign manager (his son, BTW) has to do is say, "God, multiply it. Make it pay."


Is that how things work? I am flabbergasted! And here I've been, all these years, operating under the assumption that if I want money, I have to perform some manner of work for it. What a fool I've been! All I have to do is ask the Bank of God!

Hey, Big Guy! I have a few singles and a couple of 20s in my wallet. Couldja please multiply those into, say, several hundred thousand? That would be peachy! I don't want to be too greedy and ask for millions -- I just want enough to tide me over for, well, the rest of my life, with good housing, proper health care and enough money to provide my body with nutrients without having to resort to Purina Cat Chow.

(Hmm. Just remembered the skyrocketing costs of health care. Perhaps I'll need millions after all.)

And since you're so good at math, God, how about some subtraction as well as addition? Subtract at least half the amount of mouth-breathing, racist, homophobic dumbass morons from the planet, and add on a whole bunch more who possess healthy, functioning brain cells and reasonable minds? Think more Hawking, less Honey Boo Boo. Or more Plato and less Palin.

I know, I know. If you were to rid the world of ALL the idiots, that would take up all your time and you wouldn't have any left over for your other requested tasks, like detouring hurricanes for the Republican National Convention. But half would be a good start.

I swear, every time I think I've heard the most asinine thing that could ever be uttered, someone comes along and lowers the moron bar. No, you @#$%ing twit. Money doesn't magically multiply like a benediction. Your husband stuck his foot in his face and now he's reaping the fallout. Deal with it.

(if you want to see the article, it's here.)

Ugh. Ugh multiplied. Rant over.

Sunday, September 16, 2012

Vanilla post -- a little sad

Not to worry; John is fine.

I realized something last week: In the past few weeks, I got so caught up with Shadow Lane, John's mother being in and out of the hospital, worrying about John and his work, figuring out my new client's work, etc., that I completely forgot about my stepfather. I felt bad about that, so I called him.

He sounded awful; I could barely understand him. It was like he was speaking around a mouthful of marbles. Things had taken a bad turn for him. A couple of weeks ago, he fell. He got pretty banged up, so he tried soaking some of the aches in a warm bath. But when he was ready to get out, he couldn't. He literally could not get up out of the bathtub.

He had to call 911 and they had to break into his place and haul him out. How humiliating. And then, his neighbor took him to the doctor to get checked. While there, they asked what happened, and before he could answer, his busybody neighbor blathered on about his fall, about not being able to get up out of the tub, etc. That set off red flags, one thing led to another... and they took away his driver's license.

My stepfather doesn't complain, but his life is pretty miserable. He misses my mother. His body is falling apart. He can't do any of the things he used to love. Most of his friends are gone. His grown kids are... well, they leave much to be desired, let's put it that way. But the one thing he always said to John and me: "I'm OK as long as I can drive. If I can't drive, I don't know what I'll do with myself. Might as well put a gun to my head."

And now he can't drive. I think they just handed him a death sentence. I'd never heard him sound so defeated.

I felt so, so horrible for him. And all I wanted, after I got off the phone, was to talk to John. But I couldn't. I wasn't seeing him that night. He was going to be in a pipeline all night. He called me before he went in, but I told him nothing. I didn't want to burden him with this when he was just about to pull an all-nighter doing physical labor in an underground pipe. So I kept it to myself. I wanted to talk to someone, but I didn't know who.

Saturday morning, John came home around 9:30-10:00, but he had some things to do and then he was going straight to bed. The family gathering (his aunt, cousin, one of his sisters and his brother & sister-in-law, all going to visit his mother) had been moved until Sunday. So I didn't say a word, just told him I'd see him that night.

Last night, I got to his place at 6:30; he was still asleep in his bedroom. I went in, and as soon as he called me over and I lay next to him, I lost it. All the worry, first over him and then about my stepdad, gave way, and John was alarmed as I started bawling out of seemingly nowhere. First, I wanted to make sure he was OK. "Are you all right? Did everything go OK? Do you have to go back to work?" I sobbed. He said he was fine, the inspection went fine, they didn't need to do anything further and it was over. What a relief.

I told him all about M. He said all the right things, just as I knew he would. "That's just awful... that's so sad... Poor M. He doesn't deserve this." I just kept weeping that it wasn't fair, how much did one person have to suffer. That he had taken care of my mother all those years, and now he had nothing to live for but he kept on going and going, with everything being taken away from him, including his dignity and his independence. Then I blurted, "Sweetie, I'm sorry, but I just can't do the family thing tomorrow. I can't handle it. Your mother has four kids and all sorts of extended family taking care of her, watching out for her, taking care of her every need. She lives in a nice place with all kinds of things to do. But all she does is complain, and I can't stand it. All old people should have as good a life as she does. If we go there tomorrow and she starts up with how bad her life is, I'll think about M and I will completely lose it."

John didn't argue. He didn't say a word to try to convince me otherwise. He just put his arms around me. After a moment, he said, "You're right about Mom. But she can't help it. You can't be mad at her about it."

"I'm trying not to be," I wept. "But it's hard! I'm angry! I'm angry at the unfairness of it all. M never complains, all he's ever done is take care of people, and he has nothing. Your mother has everything and everyone she needs, and yet all she does is talk about how awful everything is."

John sighed. "Yeah... it does wear on you after a while." He gets it.

So, after a while, we got up and went for sushi. Poor John was still wiped out, so we came home and I watched TV while he fell asleep on the couch. Then, this morning, he left to go to the family thing. I slept a little longer, then got up, showered and left. We didn't get to spend much time together. But at least I got to see him, and he got through a high-stress and low-sleep week unscathed. And I didn't have to go to the gathering. I really don't think I could have handled it.

We'll go see my stepfather soon. I wish he were closer; if he weren't 75 miles away on a bitch of an L.A. freeway, I'd drop over and do things for him. He's going to look into getting some live-in care. Meanwhile, I will call more often.

Onward with the week. Yesterday was ST's birthday. I wish we could celebrate our birthdays, one week apart, together like we did last year. But that's over. I wish I could see Mr. D tomorrow, but he is out of town. So... I need to keep busy. Be productive. Find something fun to do, and don't think too much. And remember that next weekend, and next Monday, will be awesome.

Friday, September 14, 2012

Utter Cluelessness

No, I don't have a CHoS today. Just revisiting an ongoing situation with a man who is so clueless, he has me baffled.

You guys remember the guy from -- when was it, months ago? A year ago? Longer? -- who contacted me, we emailed, we talked on the phone. I was considering meeting with him when he emailed me a dick pic and some unpleasantly harsh words. When I didn't respond, he wrote again, saying "I guess you're not ready for a man like me." He had that right. And I figured that was the end of it.

As you know, it wasn't. This guy still views my profile on Alt, on a regular basis. For a long time, it was every day. Now it's dwindled to about once a week. He had written to me twice more, months apart, asking if I was "ready yet." I never replied.

This week, he wrote to me again. I'd updated my photos a bit.

Glad you updated your pics.. are you ready for a good spank session text me

He'd attached another photo. This time, he's playing baseball, holding a bat and wearing a sleeveless jersey so I can see his sculpted arms. Is this supposed to impress me?

Once again, I didn't answer. But here's what I'd love to write to him:

Thanks for the new picture. Not to worry, I haven't forgotten how attractive you are. I also haven't forgotten that you refused to meet with me publicly, you sent me a picture of your cock when you knew I didn't want that, and you said you'd enjoy "brutalizing my ass." Riddle me this: If you're such a studly prize and God's gift to the ladies, why are you bothering with a woman who clearly wants nothing to do with you?

Really, it makes me shake my head, trying to clear the picture. It's both amusing and annoying. He thinks he's so effing handsome that I'll conveniently forget everything and melt when I see his picture? Good grief. I'm shallow, but I'm not stupid. :-)

Ah well. As always, men like this make me appreciate the good ones all the more.

And speaking of good men... Mine is caught up in an insane cycle at his job and has been putting in 12- to 15-hour days this week. And tonight, he has to pull an all-nighter, doing a pipe inspection. So, it's home for me tonight. He will come home in the morning, sleep a bit, and then he's supposed to meet with his aunt and cousin, as they're coming out from Long Beach to visit his mother. I will go meet with him for that. Yes, if you figured I'd really, really rather skip that, you guessed correctly. But I'll go, because it will make John happy. He's had a crap week; it won't kill me. And after that, he more than likely is heading back out to O.C. to work again.

You can imagine how worried I've been about him. Sleep deprivation and work stress/pressure is a combination primed for disaster. Especially with a man in his 50s with a bad heart. However, he has promised me over and over that he'll be OK, he'll take naps, he'll be careful. I can only keep my fingers crossed that he'll get through the weekend in one piece, and then next week he'll be able to take a couple of days off to rest.

So, unless something changes, I'm pretty much on my own this weekend, and no Mr. D on Monday, either. At least I have some work to do (yay!) and I can catch up on all the odds and ends of my To Do list.

Hey, maybe I'll text Mr. Studly and see if he's available. Kidding! I'm just KIDDING!! :-D

Have a great weekend, y'all.

Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Delayed gratification IS sweet

Mr. D and I have played four times now. Is that all it's been? It's amazing to me, how he slipped in and made a place for himself so quickly. A door closed, and he threw open a window.

I didn't know I was so tense. Maybe it was residual from the wedding business. Maybe it was getting so completely geared up yesterday and then having to wait. Maybe it was my fretting about John (for a change, right?), who is in the middle of a large and important project at work and will be working even crazier hours than usual for the next couple of weeks (including weekends, most likely). Or maybe because I'm just normally wound up tighter than a Slinky and that's why I need stress release on a regular basis. Whatever it is, Mr. D seems to be able to tap right into my mushy center, without having to shatter my brittle exterior. His approach is somewhat different: He melts it. And I really don't know how he does that. I just know it happens.

He arrived today around 12:30. We talked for a while, caught up on things. He asked me about the party, I asked him about his neighbor. And then he uttered the phrase I have already learned is a standard of his: "Come here, you." I like that. :-)

Little longer and a bit more powerful warmup hand spanking -- lovely. The hand is a resilient thing. His will be as tough as a brick after a few more weeks with me. :-D

We then moved to the bedroom, where he declared my feet were too twitchy and pulled out some restraints. Here's a "before" picture, no color yet:

He got a small wooden paddle and something else (the hairbrush?) from my drawer. I wondered at first why he didn't retrieve the Spanking Buddy or the leather paddle... then realized he'd taken those home with him last time. (forgot to ask how his friend liked them; will have to follow up on that!) I'm not sure why, but I was prickly at first, and I got irritated when his phone kept ringing. (His workday wasn't over, since it was earlier.) He apologized and put it on silent, which I appreciated. Then he went to work with his hand and with the implements.

The prickliness dissolved, instantly. His voice was calm, and he interspersed the swats with caresses to my hair, with leaning down and whispering comforting words. "You want more, don't you," he murmured. "I know what you want." "Yes... yes. More, please," I pleaded. I was ready to jump out of my skin, I wanted that sweet pain and that release so badly.

Before I knew it, I was weeping. That inner dam, that knot of everpresent tension I swallow around every damn day, broke wide open yet again. I tried to hide my face, but he brushed my hair back and away and gathered me close. "I've got you," he said. "Let go. I'll catch you." That made me cry harder. But it felt good. I could feel the tension pouring out like poison, leaving me clean and clear.

He let me cry for a long time, and when he sensed I was calmer, he rolled me onto my back. Instinctively, I looked away, not wanting him to see my smeared makeup, my red eyes and nose. "No," he said. "Look at me." I did.

"You rest -- I'm going to check my phone for a minute." I lay there, feeling myself sink deeper into the bedclothes. He listened to one message, then looked over at me. I was wiping tears off my face. "Don't move," he said, and picked up the camera again. I kept still, fighting the urge to roll away from him and hide my face. I let him capture my vulnerability.

I don't care for this picture. It makes me squirm a little. But I'm posting it anyway, because it's real.

We cuddled in aftercare mode and talked for a long time after that. I don't remember what he was telling me, but at some point, he asked if I understood him. I nodded and said yes. Then he got a twinkle. "Yes, sir," he prodded.

And I burst out laughing. "Oh, you think that's funny?"

"No," I burbled, giggling my head off. "I think it's hilarious!"

His reply was to roll me back onto my stomach and pick up the paddle again. Good Christ, that thing hurt the second go-round! I was thrashing around, laughing and screeching at the same time.

"What's this? It hurts? What happened -- I thought you were the tough girl!"

"It's the second time, not the first," I hollered. "I'm sore! I'm tender!"

"Oh, well," he teased. "I thought you could take anything, but if you can't take it..."

Push my buttons, why don't you! "Oh, fuck off," I snapped. Uh oh. Did I say that in my speaking voice or my thinking voice?

WHACK!! "What was that you just said??" Damn. My speaking voice, apparently.

He held me down firmly and kept going. "Would you care to repeat that?"

"OK... fuck off, sir." That didn't please him either. "Hey, I said sir!"

Nope, not good enough. He didn't stop until he heard, "AllrightallrightI'msorry!" It was so worth it. :-D

So I had both tears and laughter. And finally, the boneless bliss.

He had to leave around 4:00. And tomorrow, he leaves for a vacation that will extend into next week. However, we are on for a week from Monday. It will be right after my birthday, and he has already promised me a belated birthday spanking and lots of attention. Prepare to be pampered and paddled, he said.

I can't wait.

Tonight, the hot water spray in the shower stung my bottom like so many tiny needles. I loved it.

I am a lucky woman.

Go have a wonderful time, Mr. D. I'll be here when you get back.

I'm not going anywhere. :-)

Monday, September 10, 2012

One of those days...

It was going to be a busy morning/early afternoon. Mr. D was coming over at 3:00, and I wanted to get a workout in, finish some work, straighten up the place, wash my hair, etc.

My new client gave me a batch of work last week. I like these people, but they are kind of unusual. Their jobs are brief (they send a bunch at a time), but their methods of operation are more time-consuming than the actual proofreading! First, they want you to print out all the jobs and mark them up the old-fashioned way. Next, you go into their electronic files and make all the corrections, check the formatting, etc. They have a complex, two-sided Work Order form that you have to print out and fill out for each individual job (for example, this latest batch had 10 jobs). And finally, you have to take the hard copies to the P.O. and send them back Priority Mail.

I was prepared to send everything off tomorrow. But my contact wrote to me this morning and was hoping to get them earlier. Oh, damn.

So, hustle hustle hustle. I left for the gym, and about halfway there, got stuck in gridlock in the street. I don't know if there was an accident or road construction, but the cars were not moving. People were doing U-turns and going back the other way. I thought I'd tough it out, but when I'd moved one block in 15 minutes, I thought, "Screw this," and turned around. Drove back home and went to the laundry room in my apartment building, where there's a treadmill, a few weights and some other equipment. I worked out for nearly two hours and then raced back up to my apartment.

Shower, wash hair, dress, blow out my hair, clean the bathroom. Sat down to double-check all the jobs, type out my invoice, and then fill out 10 work order forms. At 2:00, I was ready to dash back out to the Post Office, which I did post-haste.

Got home at 2:20, put on some makeup, and ran around the apartment straightening up, making the bed, refilling the water pitcher, and all the other odds and ends. At 2:50, I was done, completely ready. WHEW.

Aaaaaand then Mr. D called to postpone.

(heavy sigh)

It was for a very good reason; there was an emergency with his elderly neighbor, whom he's been sorta looking out for. I hope he will be all right.

He suggested coming over tomorrow. I would like that. Because on Wednesday, he is leaving for a vacation, and I won't see him next week. So if I don't see him tomorrow, then it will be a whole month. And that would suck.

So please hold a good thought that he makes it. Meanwhile, tonight's play report has been postponed, hopefully not for more than 24 hours.

Bottoms, don't you hate it when you're all dressed up/made up/geared up to play, and then it doesn't happen? All that pent-up energy! I swear, it's as bad as orgasm denial. (Not that I've ever experienced that. Because if any man told me I'm not allowed to orgasm, I'd tell him to go fornicate himself.)

Sunday, September 9, 2012

Fun with weddings

What a difference a week makes. Last weekend, I was in Vegas, enjoying all manner of spanking debauchery. And then this weekend, I was at a vanilla wedding. OK, I dressed up for both (but, as John put it, not quite as slutty for the second one), and got to dance at both. The resemblance ends there. I'm glad the latter is over. The former, I could revisit again and again.

It was a nice wedding, I have to admit, in a lovely place with a gorgeous reception area and then a beautiful courtyard set up for the dinner and dancing. But I'm just not into weddings. Across the aisle, I could see John's brother's wife crying. Me? I wanted to roll my eyes when they had Scripture readings. (And it didn't help when John kept leaning over and whispering "WTF??" in my ear.) But I damn near lost it when John's niece, speaking her written vows, blurted, "You totally complete me!" No. She did NOT just say that. Who says that, except Tom Cruise movie characters?? Still, I maintained control, just briefly dropping my eyes and biting my lip. I admit, though, she did look really cute when she did an exuberant fist-pump, flowers in hand, when they were pronounced husband and wife.

There was an open bar (of course) and servers walking around with trays of five different hors d'oeuvres, after the ceremony. Three of them were fried and the other two were loaded with cheese, so I passed. Weddings are fun places to people-watch, so I did so while John chatted with his relatives. Wandering outside, I saw the tables where we were to eat. Each plate had a placecard, and I found mine... all the way at the opposite end of the table from where John was seated. Excuse me? Not acceptable. I called John outside, and we snuck around the table, switching placecards. While we were at it, we discovered that his cousin and wife were separated too, so we put them back together as well. What were the arrangers thinking??

There were about a dozen different speeches before the dinner. John kept me entertained during those, whispering running commentary in my ear. He could afford to be critical. The other night at the rehearsal dinner, John had given a speech, reciting some lovely words about strength of union and love conquering all -- in Latin! And he had memorized it! After that, the bride's uncle on her father's side got up and read a poem -- the first verse was something along the lines of "Greens are yeses, reds are maybes; let's get together, and make some babies." From the sublime to the ridiculous.

Dinner was tasty; they had a choice of prime rib, stuffed chicken breast or spinach ravioli. Lots of wine and champagne. And, oddly enough, there was a tiny cake for the bride and groom to cut, but the rest of us got assorted mini-tarts and pastries for dessert. When the dancing started, the mass quantities of consumed alcohol began kicking in and the evening turned a bit raucous. It was outdoors on a very warm summer night, and John finally shed his suit jacket; the poor man was sweating like crazy.

I found an unexpected ally in his sister-in-law C. I've known her for as long as I've known John, but she and I never really talked; she's in her early 40s. We ended up chatting a bit, and I sensed something, a sort of kinship, like somehow there was a lot she wasn't saying, but that she was thinking. So I took a chance, moved closer at one point and whispered, "I don't know how you do it. I mean, you actually married into this dysfunctional family." That was risky... but she responded. She opened up. And at the end of the evening, before she and her husband left, she said, "You know, we should all hang out sometime. You guys [John and me] are the only ones who are normal." HAH! If only she knew.

Gotta say, it was so gratifying and validating, when I told her about some stupid lecherous comment that John's inappropriate brother-in-law had said to me. Her jaw dropped and she screeched, "What a DICK!"

We left shortly thereafter, because things were getting louder and louder and it was clear it was going to morph into a drunken bacchanal in short order. I think seeing one somewhat under-dressed young woman jump onto another woman's back, piggyback style, was a bit of a hint. So we pushed our way through the sweaty throng on the dance floor, saying goodbye to the bride, the groom, John's sister. Tangled up in the bodies, I distinctly smelled pot. Yup, it was time to go.

I wish them well. I hope they will be OK, will have a nice life. I know John has a special affection for his niece, since he's her godfather as well. I know he wishes things with his family were different. Sometimes, my heart hurts for him. Yeah, all families are screwed up in their way and his isn't all bad. But the difference between John and me? I accepted long ago that my family was pretty much the pits and that I preferred to maintain a certain detachment from them. John, however, has never stopped yearning for the closeness, the validation, the blood-is-thicker-than-water thing. I know he hoped that growing older would bring them all closer. I watched him last night, chatting enthusiastically with a cousin he rarely sees (in fact, the last time he saw him was the last family wedding, over 10 years ago). He misses that; I know he does. Me? I'll take my spanking family. They get me. Not my blood relatives.

OK! Got through it. And now tomorrow is my reward; Mr. D returns. :-)

Hope everyone had a nice weekend.

Friday, September 7, 2012

Shadow Lane 2012 -- some pictures

I've posted a few of these on FetLife, but not everyone is on there, so I will share them here as well.

This is from Friday night; I'm between Sarah Gregory and Princess Kelley. Aren't they cute?

Sarah and me on Saturday night, rocking our blue dresses:

The naked flogging. I'm on the far left, then Kelley, Mila and Sarah:

The pillow fight. L-R is Stevie, Lilibrat, Sarah and Kelley, with me lying in the center and Mila enthusiastically wielding the pillow above us:

Last but definitely not least, my extremely rude (but honest!) reaction to Lea's multi-colored Peeps on a Stick:

So I survived the wedding rehearsal dinner -- sort of. The event itself was OK, but on my way in, I took a spectacular fall. John's sister's house has hardwood floors and there are several single, shallow steps throughout (read: booby traps). I walked in from the bright sunshine in my sunglasses and proceeded to stumble on one of those steps from the living room into the dining room. I didn't want to fall on my face, so I sort of twisted on my way down and landed backward, with most of my weight on my left palm and hyperextending my elbow. John's sister made a huge fuss, which was nice of her, but I was so thoroughly embarrassed (not to mention hurting), I wished she would stop. The father of the groom insisted on massaging my elbow (he did ask first), which felt nice, but also extremely weird. I forgot about it last night, but when I woke up this morning, I felt the aftermath of that fall in a big way. My elbow hurts and I think I tweaked my back a bit too. Ugh. And of course, single-minded as I am, all I could think was, "So glad this didn't happen before last weekend!"

John, being the godfather as well as the uncle, felt obligated to not only provide all the champagne for the reception, but to buy a gift from the registry and give the couple some cash. (sigh) When he told me that he was going to tell M & R that the gifts were from both of us, I said, "Honey, that's nice of you and I appreciate it, but I wish you wouldn't. You should take all the credit; I didn't contribute anything." And he answered, "Maybe not in money, but you're there for everything and you put up with them." He gets it. He knows. Makes it all a little bit easier, knowing that he gets it. Not a lot easier, you understand. But a little. :-)

Feeling the party drop, for sure. I'm so grateful I get to see Mr. D this coming Monday.

Have a great weekend, y'all.

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Shadow Lane 2012 -- Sunday

It's Wednesday already. Reality and post-party drop are settling in, and I don't like them one bit. I have a pile of work to do, which normally would be a good thing, but I'm still so distracted and foggy-brained. Yesterday I lost my checkbook. I also thought I'd left my phone charger in Vegas, since I couldn't find it anywhere, so I ran out to buy a new one. Today, I used my hair dryer and discovered that somehow in my suitcase, my phone charger had wrapped itself around the dryer cord. And tomorrow, I have to go to John's niece's wedding rehearsal dinner, and the wedding itself on Saturday. I'd rather have root canal (which, incidentally, poor John needs again). Real life sucks! I wanna go back to SpankyLand!

But I still have Sunday to cover, before I forget important details. Perhaps reminiscing will bring back some of the elation.

We didn't get to bed until 4:30-ish, so 9:45 AM felt like the crack of dawn to me. But there's no way I'd miss one of Strict Dave's CP Court sessions. So we showered and dressed, I bought some coffee and we headed to suite 960 at 10:45 (we came early to get a good seat, and ended up being the first ones there). People starting piling in after that and soon the suite was standing room only. Court was hilarious as always; I think this was our fourth time. Dave is a hilarious judge and the charges people come up with are a riot.

After Court, John and I headed to Cafe Siena once again, this time with M and T&S joining us. Dave had invited us to join a big group heading to the strip for lunch at a tapas place, but we declined, much as we would enjoy hanging with them. John and I don't like the strip, and I don't particularly care for tapas. Plus, I was light-headed with hunger by this point and needed to eat right away, and the tapas lunch would have been a long drive and a long wait.

Lunch was low-key and fun; the four of us talked and talked and we were there until about 2:30, I think. Nothing else that we knew of was going on in the afternoon, which was just as well, since John and I needed sleep desperately. We crashed back in our room and slept until 6:00.

I felt bad, because I awoke to a text from Lizzie, saying there had been a little surprise gathering for Craig at 4:00 (his birthday is later this month), and we'd slept through it. But we got to hang out with them after all -- when we walked out of room around 7:00-ish to go to dinner, the door across the hall opened and out walked Craig and Lizzie! We'd had no idea they were across from us. They were headed for the Mexican restaurant in the hotel, which is exactly where we'd planned to go. Jada joined us and the five of us had a nice dinner with a lot of laughs.

Later, it was time for the Disciplinary Arts Pajama Party, given by Kyle and Stevie in the Tuscany Suite. Joe & Ten had decided to take the night off, which was well deserved after three straight nights of entertaining us. I put on a pair of light-blue baby-doll PJs -- another first, since I see women in PJs in the room parties all the time, but have never worn them myself. Very comfy! People were arriving en masse and soon the entire suite was packed.

Lea approached me, holding something and saying she wanted to see my expression of disgust. I did not disappoint her when I saw what she had: Multi-colored Peeps on a stick! LOL! In fact, she took a couple of pictures of me making faces over that thing. (Hint hint, Lea!)

I was chatting away with a couple who were new to SL (TailGator and GatorBait on FetLife) when I felt hands on my shoulders; it was Michael. I was so happy to see him, since I thought he'd left already and I hadn't had a chance to say goodbye. He said he'd decided to stay an extra day, and now he was going to grab me before the evening got away from both of us. I didn't object to that in the least. :-)

We went into the bedroom, but the bed was occupied with an F/F caning scene with a large crowd watching. So, enterprising man that he is, Michael took me into the large luxury bathroom, with a huge bathtub, even huger shower, and floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city. There was a bit of water in the tub, but he grabbed a towel, mopped it up and then had me stand right in the tub and bend over, hands on the rim. We could see ourselves reflected in all the windows and mirrors from all sides.

At first the scene was playful and silly, with Michael bellowing, "I'm spanking Erica Scott in the bathroom!" and me giggling my head off. But in a while, he stood me upright, wrapped one arm around me and had me lean into it, and he absolutely whaled on me as we stood. I felt my legs go rubbery and I leaned into him harder, dropping my head, feeling the spaciness take over. People started gathering at the entry of the bathroom, watching us -- I was vaguely aware of them, but I couldn't tell who any of them were.

After several flurries, Michael sat on the edge of the tub and pulled me down into his lap. He whispered to me, "We're not quite done, are we?" and I murmured back, "No. Is the bed free yet?" "Let's go see," he said. "I want to finish you off."

He took my hand and we went back into the bedroom; the caning scene was over, but they were still on the bed doing aftercare. So we went to the big overstuffed chair in the corner and Michael piled it with pillows, then pulled up another chair and piled that with more pillows. I laid across the pillow pile and it was like a makeshift bed. There, we finished our scene -- just a lot more hand spanking, but it was so fast and intense and hard, and I let go, moaning and crying out, loving it.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, was my favorite scene of the weekend.

We wandered back into the main room, where I went to get a drink. I have to mention the spread Kyle and Stevie put out -- we could have skipped dinner and eaten there! They had sandwiches, salads, veggies and dip, fruit, chips, chocolates, cake -- and alcohol. Lots and lots and lots of alcohol. (sodas and water too, for the non-imbibers) There was an orange-y liqueur that looked (and tasted) exactly like the Kinky Liqueur I love, so I had that mixed with Diet Coke.

There was a "brat pillow fight" scheduled at midnight, and I figured lots of women would show up for that, just as they had for the naked flogging on Friday. John even went back to our room to get a pillow for me. I was looking forward to it and went to the bedroom when Kyle called us in. But I almost ducked back out when I realized there was only five other women besides myself: Lilibrat, Stevie, Mila, Sarah and Kelley. All in their 20s... I had a flashback to that old childhood puzzle, "Which one of these does not belong?" But it was too late to back out now, and when Kyle signaled us to begin, I threw myself in bravely. It turned out to be great fun, and I think I held my own pretty well! Kyle took photos from Sarah's camera -- she told me she'd send me all the pictures, so I just have to be patient and wait until she settles in back home and gets to that.

It's not a party weekend without a spanking from Joe, and we had an exuberant scene, front and center, in the main room. It's become a "his hand vs. my butt" friendly competition between us, and each time I am reminded of just how strong his hand is! However, he admitted his right hand was giving out, so I yelled, "Oh, come on, Joe, don't be a sissy!" That did it; he yanked me up, spun me around and flipped me over the opposite way, and started afresh with his left hand. No fair! We finally called it a draw, though. :-)

Felt myself fading a little bit after that, so I wandered back into the bedroom and lay on the bed, relaxing for a while, waiting for my second wind to kick in and chatting with Richard Windsor. John and M came in and M lay next to me, curling up. Then Ten came in and threw herself across both of us, promptly spilling the remaining drips of red wine in her cup all over one of the pillows. I swear, that woman is trouble!  This prompted us to start cheerily (and loudly) singing, "Spill the wine, spank that girl!!" Somehow, the three of us ended up in a girl pile, legs and arms entwined, and Richard took a picture of us (thank you, Rich!). Unfortunately, it came out kinda blurry, but I have to post it anyway. (I even have M's special permission!)

Yes, we are silly girls.

Edit -- 7:35. Dammit! I knew I'd blank out on something, and I sure did. My apologies to Craig!

I hadn't played with Craig in a very long time, so I was happy to see him and Lizzie show up at the suite. When he approached and asked if I was ready, I most certainly was. We found a space on the bed and had a nice OTK scene. Another strong hand! I'd forgotten just how strong. At the end when he was holding me close with both arms, I felt something thudding on my bottom. Huh?? Did Craig grow a third arm? I heard people laughing and turned my head -- it was John, swatting me with a bunny slipper he'd found on the bed! "You suck!" I screeched, which made everyone laugh harder.

(end of edit)

My final scene of the weekend was with Kyle, yet another one with whom I'd never played (not really counting the few belt licks during the strapping free-for-all on Saturday). I'd been talking with NwgtyNan and Spankotom when he approached and asked if I'd like to play. He was very proper and polite -- he even asked John if it was OK to play with me, to which John answered in his typical wry fashion, "Please... I don't care!" Humpph.

Can I just say right here that Kyle Johnson has a hand of @#$%ing iron? Holy moly, he's strong! We played in the main room with many watching us, so we bantered a lot and made a fun scene out of it. He stopped for a while, talking to others, until I finally yelled, "Hey! Down HERE!" He sincerely apologized for neglecting the task at hand (har) and continued with vigor, saying his mind had temporarily been elsewhere. I answered, "Yeah, because your head is up your ass!"

A hush and a ripple of "oooohs" commenced.

Heavy flurry of swats. "What did you say?"

"I said, your head is up your ass!"

Heavier. "Where is my head?"

"Up your ass!"

Even heavier. Jesus Christ... "Are you sure? Where's my head?"

I was faltering by now. "Uh... um... somewhere in the vicinity of your posterior?"

"Better," he said. "OK, now we're going lower each time." Oh, crap.

Super hard flurry on the sweet spot. Any lower and it would be thighs -- no way!! "So, Erica, where's my head?"

"Ah... it's... uh...." I stammered, unwilling to concede.

"I'll give you a hint -- shoulder region?"

I knew I was done. Reluctantly, I answered, "Your head is on your neck."

"OK! Good! Now let's just drive that point home, shall we?" @#$%!!!!! I got another barrage anyway! Damned tops!

I was toast after that, and I curled up with John on the couch, where we watched the end of a very long and intense OTK scene with Mike (Spank33 on FetLife) and Heather Green. It was one of those mesmerizing scenes where you wonder how she's absorbing it all, but you know she is and she's loving it, too. Afterward, Mike discovered that there were little blood blisters on his palm and between his fingers. Would you believe that dear girl, spanked as she was, actually went to fetch a bag of ice for his hand??

We talked for while, but I could feel myself fading, and finally, we decided it was time to call it a night and a weekend. We made the rounds, both in this room and then up in 960, saying our goodbyes and collecting all our final hugs. Did as much packing as possible before we hit the bed, where I slept like I'd been drugged.

Another party over. John and I are determined to make it to Boardwalk Badness next April, because there is no way I'm waiting another whole year between parties. I just can't. I need these gatherings. I need these wonderful friends.

Thank you, Tony, Eve, and Butch. Thank you to all who so generously opened your suites to us. Thank you to everyone who played with me, laughed with me, hugged me. You have no idea how much you all mean to me. I hope everyone had a great time, and I hope the newbies are happy that they are no longer newbies and will come back.

I promise I'll have a picture post once I get more of them. For now, it's off to the gym with me. (blech... don't wanna!)

Tuesday, September 4, 2012

Shadow Lane 2012 -- Saturday

Two blogs in one day, but I figured I'd better keep up with this before I forget details.

I didn't sleep well Friday night, but I almost never do, since I'm still keyed up from all the activity of the day. Saturday late morning after John dragged me out of bed, we showered, dressed and headed down to Cafe Siena for lunch, where we were joined by Michael and then T&S. I don't think John and I have ever had a meal at the Suncoast by ourselves; we always find someone in our party to eat with us, which is part of the fun. We lingered a long time at the table, sharing stories and laughs, and then it was time to head for the SSNY room party, which was in progress.

What a riot! The room was packed. I didn't play at this gathering, but I did a lot of talking. John and I ended up in the kitchen area with Jules, Beth, Miranda and a couple of others (sorry, brain fade on who they were). Jules and Miranda had us in stitches and tears, telling horror stories of sessions, and I was able to add a couple of my own stories from my days at Passive Arts. Later, we all crowded into one of the bedrooms to watch some of the SSNY videos.

Then it was nap time. I woke up around six and went to shower, wash hair, make up and so forth. I was wearing a new dress, one I'd spent a whopping $18 on, with black fishnets and pumps. Of course, John helped me with the garters (and with straightening my seams). My hair cooperated and blew into nice big waves.

As usual, I loved the buffet. Healthy stuff! Salmon, chicken, veggies, wheat rolls... yum. (OK, there was beef and pasta and mashed potatoes and a lot of other stuff too, but I bypassed those.) I kept getting up during dinner to go greet people and ooh and aah over the other women's dresses. Sarah and Kelley were taking pictures again, so I jumped in and got several more shots. (Yup, waiting for those, too!) Did a lot of talking again, although it was harder to talk with the music blasting.

Hey, I got a picture -- M took this of John and me. It's a bit overexposed and it's on a bit of a tilt, but I like it anyway:

Here's where I confess that I had one of my insecurity attacks, during this dinner. I'm not sure what was going on, but a part of it was the dancing. I love it, but I don't think I'm all that good at it and when I watch the cute young girls dancing with all their great moves, I feel like a stiff old fossil. John was a sweetie and danced several slow dances with me, but no one else asked. (John insists that was because people saw me with him and didn't want to intervene, but who knows.) After a while, I got tired of putting on a smiling face and shouting over the noise -- I felt tired and overwhelmed and knew I needed a break before we headed to the suite parties, so John and I went back to our room for about 20 minutes or so, to just lie on the bed and relax for a bit. "Damn it," I said to him. "I look forward to these parties so much, I want to be here, I can't wait to be here. Now here I am, so why do I feel like crying?" "Because these parties are hard on you; they're fun, but they stress you out, too," he answered. Yeah. I guess. Nevertheless, I pulled myself together and we ventured forth into the night. John's pep talk helped. "Act like who you are. You're Erica Scott." My sweetheart. ♥

As we did the night before, we bounced back and forth between Joe & Ten's suite and Tom's. Joe & Ten had gotten a ginormous sheet cake for Shadow Lane's 21st birthday (they started having parties 21 years ago), and there were plenty of snacks and drinks in both rooms. If I'm recalling correctly, my first scene that evening was with Tony from FetLife, another one with whom I'd never played before. He's fun!

At midnight, Joe's room had a group belting -- women lined up at the window with several men strapping them. Naturally, yours truly the belt lover had to get in on that one! I got licks from Kyle Johnson and from Bob the DJ, then Strict Dave came in and took a turn with me. He ramped things up quite a bit, first strapping me, then wrapping the belt around my hips and using it to yank me toward him, swat me hard then swing me forward again. And then, as a grand finale, he put one foot on top of the bed, picked me up and tossed me over his leg, holding me firmly in place as I was airborne with arms and legs flailing, and strapped me there! Daaaaamn! Brief, but very intense! I felt rather disoriented when he let me down, but I was grinning my face off. After that, Bob asked if I'd like some more of his belt while lying down -- of course, I said yes!

But wait, there's more. Shortly after that, Fineous came in with his two floggers, and offered to do another scene with me. Wow! Lucky me, getting flogged by Fineous twice! I stripped off everything but my thong and got back onto the bed, where he proceeded to flog me into oblivion. I love that man.

While John chatted with Joe and Ten, I had a nice talk with SpankCakes. We found out that we're practically neighbors -- we live on the same street! She's several blocks north of me, but still. How wild is that? Both John and I really liked her a lot; she's smart and funny and I see more parties in her future. :-) Shortly thereafter, we wandered over to Tom's suite to see what was going on in there. It was hopping as well.

I had two more scenes there (I think??). One was with Strict Dave, who'd said I deserved a "good girl spanking" for a nice comment I'd made about his CP Court on FetLife. Now, to be honest, most of the time I simply don't get the concept of a GG spanking. I mean, what's the point? :-) But in this case, with a lot of soreness building up from prior scenes, it sounded like it could be rather nice. And yes, it certainly was. He kept it interesting and sensual, interspersing swats with massage and light fingertip caresses, keeping it light but throwing in a sharper swat now and then. He talked with me throughout and I melted into it, relaxing and enjoying. Then he covered me with the bed quilt and used his belt over that, which was quite the different sensation -- the quilt muffled the sting, but I still felt the impact. How he was able to see my bottom and hit it perfectly with a quilt over it, I don't know, but he did. He's one talented player. At the end, he asked if I'd like some belt strikes without the quilt; y'all know what my answer was to that. :-)

After a nice chat with Djinn, my final spanking of the night was with G, right before Tom closed his suite for the evening. So we all trooped back to Joe and Ten's, where John and I stayed until about 3:30. There was a nice little core crowd of us, just kicking back and talking. It was hard to tear myself away, but I knew I needed sleep. Besides, we had to get up semi-early so we could get to Dave's CP Court the next morning. So reluctantly, we said our good-nights.

Still have Sunday to cover...

Shadow Lane 2012 -- Friday

I was up at the ungodly hour of 5:30 AM, washing my hair and packing everything I'd gathered the night before. I'd had to park our rental car around the corner because there was no space on my block, so I walked there to move the car and the first thing I noticed was the envelope on the windshield. WTF? I was parked properly! The ticket claimed something about registration, so I looked at the sticker on the license plate. Sure enough -- "June 2012." Oh, swell.

Turned out it was easily fixed, fortunately. I called Enterprise at 7:30 when they opened, and they told me to come by and pick up a 2013 sticker. So I packed up the car and headed over there. It was a relief -- I was going to be stressed out about being pulled over all the way to Vegas, and all the way back too. It's what I do.

I went to John's, he loaded his stuff and we were on the road by 9:00. It was a smooth drive, no traffic jams, and we arrived at the Suncoast around 2:00. At registration, the first guest we saw was Marie, who came running across the room and launched herself into my arms like a bullet.

Once we got to our room, we discovered that neither one of our keys worked. (groan) I left John sitting there among our piles of bags and went back down to registration. In this short trip, I saw several more friends, including my buddies Fineous (he of the fabulous floggers) and Michael (Inspectherhide on FetLife). Michael grabbed me up into a huge hug, lifting me off the carpet and squeezing me for dear life in midair. As I'd mentioned, I love the hugs as much as the spankings at these parties. :-)

We unpacked and then crashed for a while. I was too keyed up to get a proper nap, but I dozed on and off until it was time to get up and dress. Finally, the vendor fair, and mass quantities of greetings! This is where I want to name a bunch of names, but I know I'll forget someone or another and then feel bad about it. I'll state ahead of time: Please, anyone I accidentally forget to mention, don't be offended. Remind me and I'll rectify any and all omissions!

So great to finally meet Lea, Joey and SpankCake! I've had so much online interaction with them, and it's always fun to match names with faces at last. And of course, had to have my hug fixes from Beth, PTL, Sarah Gregory, Joe (Dr. Lectr), Ten, our dear longtime friend M, Tall&Strict (his handle on FetLife; he's also known as Ralph Marvell), Jersey John, Tony T., Alex Reynolds (who introduced me to the lovely Heather Green and Mila Kohl), Sandy and Rad, Lance Del Toro (back after a five-year absence) Tom from SF, Craig and Lizzie, Jada, Sophie and Djinn, Fireman Chris and Serenity, all the beloved Brits (Paul, Stephen, beautiful Lucy and Caroline), Jules, Mike and Miranda from SSNY, Benman, Richard Windsor, and the list goes on and on. There was a buffet of hors d'oeuvres, but honestly, I found none of it appealing (except for the fruit), so I ate little. Too excited to eat anyway!

Lovely Sarah Gregory had a vendor table along with Princess Kelley, whom I had not met before, so I made my way over there to greet her. Good lord, that girl is cute! Several photos were taken (Sarah and me, Kelley and me, the three of us); that's the first of the pics I'm waiting for. Dear sweet Kelley said that she wished she could get a picture of me with Keith Jones, since, she bubbled, "I love the two of you; your videos are my childhood!" Sarah burst out laughing, and I dramatically turned and slammed my head into the wall. OK, she's only 23, so it wasn't that long ago. Still, it was one of my many Methusaleh moments this weekend!

That evening after the vendor fair, there were several suite parties happening. The Brits were having Spankolympics, but sadly, we didn't make it to that room -- we were bouncing between 1031 (Joe and Ten) and 960 (Tom). My first scene of the weekend was with Michael, who made quite a show of snatching my hand and yelling across the room to John (and everyone else), "OK, John, I'm going to spank your girlfriend Erica Scott in the bedroom now!" LOL! We had a lovely energetic scene on the bed with several others watching, but, as usual when I'm into a scene, I lost awareness of them. And I got a special treat: When we were done, he asked me if I wanted some "Michael aftercare." I said yes, and he laid me out on the bed, got some lotion and took off my shoes. Then he gave me a wonderful, thorough foot massage. That's not something that usually happens at a spanking party, and it was delicious. :-)

My second scene was private, with Djinn. Loooove playing with him! In fact, when he said it was over, I actually asked for a little more. Yes, I'm greedy.

Both suites were hopping with people and as always, I talked and laughed until I went hoarse. Friday night is a bit of a blur and I'll probably remember more details after I post this. But a major highlight of that evening was the Naked Flogging scene.

Last year in Joe & Ten's suite, a spontaneous group flogging had happened, with several women stripping naked and I believe three tops flogging them in rotation. It was such a big hit, they decided to make it an annual event and had announced it in the room party threads and brochure. I was torn. I really, really wanted to join this. But I have never stripped completely naked at a Shadow Lane party before, in front of everyone. And I'd be among women half my age (and younger).

When I went to the bedroom, there were already five women on the bed, the max amount it could hold. A large crowd had gathered, watching Joe, ColoDom and Fineous work their magic. I thought, OK, guess it wasn't meant to be. But after a few minutes, the women on the bed started "tagging out"; they'd exit the scene and tag someone else in. On the far left was L of G & L, a couple we've known for many years. G asked me if I wanted to join in. I said yes, and he answered that he'd tag L out as soon as I took my clothes off. OK, what the hell. I was in. I stripped and took L's place. At that point, I believe I was on the bed with Kelley, Sarah, Mila and Spank4fun. (I might have gotten a little extra courage from the glass of Kinky Liqueur that Sarah brought me from her room!)

What a great scene, and what a treat to feel the talents of three flogging experts! I think Ten took some pictures (second of the pics I'm waiting for).

The only awkward moment? Getting back up and crossing the room to put my clothes back on. It's far easier to take them off than to put them back on!

What else, what else... oh, I had a quick scene with Lance, my first ever with him. I've known him for years, but somehow, we never connected. What fun! He commented that this was the first time he'd ever seen me so quiet during a spanking, but hey, it was about 2:30 AM and I was practically comatose. But I loved it.

If anything else monumental happened on Friday night that I'm completely glazing over, please remind me!

I don't know how people go without sleep at these things, but I sure can't. John and I finally got to bed around 3:00, and I was practically delirious. But it was only Friday night. Still two more full days and evenings to go -- we were just getting started! Lots more to look forward to. :-)

To be continued...

Monday, September 3, 2012

A few random thoughts on SL before I sleep

I'm back. We got home this afternoon and I have much catching up to do. The post-party blogging and dishing will probably start in earnest tomorrow -- not much of it yet tonight. I do plan to write about the details, but tonight, I am just so wiped out. So, here are a few random points of the weekend, in no particular order.

1. I lost count how many times I played; I'll try to backtrack and figure that out. Some amazing and powerful hands at this party! Except for some strapping/belting and a couple of floggings, I got all hand spanking this weekend. No wood (didn't miss it a bit, either). I am deeply sore and tender, but not marked.

2. Saw lots of old and dear friends and met several new ones, including fellow bloggers Princess Kelley, Lea, Joey, and SpankCake. Missed some friends, too, which was sad. But such is the nature of these parties.

3. I didn't end up taking a single photo. Not sure why; I brought my camera, but I was busy and forgot about it. However, several people took pictures with me in them, so I have lots of photos coming. It may take a while, though.

4. I participated in both Naked Flogging Night and the Midnight Brat Pillow Fight. Lots more to come on those. And yes, there were pictures taken of both. :-)

5. The room parties were freaking fabulous! We didn't make it to all of them, but the ones we attended (Joe & Ten, Tom, Kyle & Stevie, the SSNY folks) were so much fun.

6. Going to a room party in your PJs is a helluva lot of fun. I wish I'd done that sooner.

7. As always, the spankings and the tight, warm hugs were equally cherished.

8. I got to (very briefly) wear Richard Windsor's cowboy hat. It was an honor.

OK, I'm fading. Tomorrow, I promise, I will start with Friday and go from there.