Ode to our stress relievers (AKA spankers)

OK, without going into an abundance of detail, let's just say this past weekend sucked eggs. Saturday was a whole lot of stress and aggravation and heat and traffic, culminating in a horrible fight between John and me. In the car, on the freeway. Fortunately, I'm sane enough to keep my head while behind the wheel and I didn't crash us into a divider (or another car). But it was highly unpleasant. Many apologies (both of ours) and a million tears (mine) later, we are OK. But it left me feeling shell-shocked, fatigued and tense. I hate fighting. I hate confrontation. And I go into emotional overload.

So I was more than ready for ST today, and guess what? He was more than willing to help me with my stress problem. Whatta guy, huh? So, to the tune of the Rolling Stones' "Mother's Little Helper" (embedded below), I have penned "Stress Releasing Helper."





What a drag it is, being stressed

Life is oh-so-hard today,
I hear every bottom say,
Baby needs something today to calm her down
And though she’s not really ill
When she’s acting like a pill
She goes running for the shelter
Of her Stress Releasing Helper
And he puts her OTK
Spanks her till she feels okay

Feeling like a shrew today
I hear every bottom say,
She just can’t stop acting out, it’s such a drag
So she eats a frozen cake
Till she gets a stomach ache
And goes running for the shelter
Of her Stress Releasing Helper
And he knows just what to do
Spanks her bottom black and blue

Spanker please, lots more of these,
I’m still not sane, I need more pain!
What a drag it is, being stressed

Jobs are such a bitch today,
I hear every bottom say,
Bosses think you’re there to work, how fucked is that?
Now they want her to stay late,
She says “NO, I’ve got a date!”
And goes running for the shelter
Of her Stress Releasing Helper
She forgets about the rut
While he’s whaling on her butt

Spanker please, I’m o’er your knees
I’m full of steam, please make me scream!
What a drag it is, being stressed

Life will piss you off today
I hear every bottom say
Plain vanilla every day is just a bore
It’s a spanking that she’ll need
Not the pills and not the weed
She goes running for the shelter
Of her Stress Releasing Helper
He will spank her backside bright
And she’ll sleep in peace tonight

Feeling so much better. Thank you, darlin'. You're so much better than any drug (cuter, too). :-)

My "sweet 16" celebration

Yeah, yeah. Chronologically, I'm a whole lot older than 16. But today, in spanko years, I am 16. On Memorial Day 1996, a handsome, dominant man came into my apartment and introduced me to spanking, and my world was never the same again.

I wanted to forget about all the stress and heartache and just have fun. I fleetingly thought about buying some champagne, but ran out of time. On Friday, we'd had a brief power outage, not much longer than an hour. When it came back on, one of my cable boxes had blown out. So today, the cable guy was coming over between 3 and 5. Fortunately, he was here by 3:40 and out of here by 4:05. So I had plenty enough time to get ready for ST, but not enough to nip back out to get champagne. Oh well.

When he showed up bearing his toy bag as usual, I thought nothing of it. Until he sat on my couch, unzipped it and pulled out a greeting card. I was so tickled! It was a "blank inside" card with SWEET! written on the front, and he'd filled in a "Happy Sweet 16" message inside. That alone would have delighted me, but then he reached into his bag again, and pulled out... you guessed it. A bottle of ice-cold champagne. :-D  How wonderful is this man!!

I practically danced into the kitchen, getting the glasses while he opened it. We decided that we'd have one glass now, and then another after playing. And then HE decided we were going to combine some of my implements with his to total 16, and he'd give me 16 swats with each one. Of course, his hand wouldn't count.

I had barely eaten anything all day -- I don't usually like to eat before scenes, so my stomach was empty. And that first glass of champagne slammed into me, full force. Delightfully so. It wasn't more than a few minutes before I was giggling and talking funny and acting like a, well, a 16-year-old.

I know the spanking with 16 implements + hand must have hurt. But damned if I remember any of it.

I do recall that I obliterated another cane...

OK, so maybe it did hurt a little.

But hey! It was time for more champagne!

Uh oh! My glass foameth over!

We got a bit rambunctious in the kitchen, with ST determined to find every single pervertable I had in my kitchen drawers. I took smacks from wooden spoons, spatulas, a frosting spreader, a frying pan he plucked out of the dish drainer, a pair of chopsticks, a cake slicer (NOT serrated, no worries). And of course, one of my spoons bit the dust.

That second glass took me from tipsy to slightly woozy (yes, really -- that's all it takes with me), so I drank about 2/3 of it and then lay on the couch with my head in ST's lap. I felt blissfully content, singing along with the iTunes radio playing on my computer, and we stayed there for a long time, chatting and relaxing. My head cleared, and when I told him the effects had worn off, he took that as a green light for us to play again. No complaints here! ST seemed unaffected by the champagne; I guess it's a guy thing (they're bigger and they can absorb more??). I've never seen John so much as tipsy either.

Oh, and in case you're wondering, after Round #3, I finished that second glass of champagne.

So... 16 years of spanking. Millions of swats, maybe? Well, thousands, anyway. What was the difference between Memorial Day 1996 and Memorial Day 2012?

Hmmm... well, in 1996, I marked like crazy. In 1996, it was just his hand, not 16 implements plus a drawerful of kitchen utensils. In 1996, I was a clean canvas, feeling myriad new emotions and sensations, and certain that I'd fallen in love with my spanker.

But in truth, I barely knew him. I never even found out his last name. I didn't know where he lived. He did incredible things to me and I'll always be grateful to him, but he was a stranger nonetheless. And what I fell in love with was what he gave me.

So I suppose that's the biggest difference, between 1996 and 2012. Today, it wasn't a stranger. Today, it was the bestest top ever, and -- even better -- a great friend. And this man, I love to bits. ♥

My chronological 16th birthday sucked, as I recall. But this 16th was indeed sweet. I'm going to treat myself to some chocolate and a few episodes of Dark Shadows, and then slip off to sleep.

Hope everyone had a good three-day weekend.

Next time, look under the bed, dumbass

Last time ST was here, we played in the bedroom and he had me get the Cane-iac Spanking Buddy out of my vanity drawer. Even though I had given it to him as a gift, he likes me to keep it here. So after he left, I looked on the bed and on the floor, but couldn't find it. I figured he'd accidentally picked it up with all his other toys and put it in his bag.

Tonight when we were ready to play, I mentioned that he might have the SB in his bag, because I thought he took it by accident. He rummaged through everything -- "Nope, I don't have it." Hmmmm... Oh, wait! Maybe it had traveled under the bed somehow (no, I didn't put it there).

Off I went to the bedroom to look, and sure enough, it was way under the bed. You wouldn't believe the noise I got from ST when I came back.

"Aha! You had it all along, and you accused me of stealing it!"

"I did not!" I protested. "I said you might have taken it by accident!"

"You were still blaming me, and all the while it was just your lousy housekeeping!"

I beg your pardon??

"You really shouldn't accuse me of stealing," he scolded, pulling me OTK.

"Dammit! There was nothing accusatory about what I said!" I hollered.

"Yeah, well, I'm about to get abuse-atory on your bottom." (groan) Oh, clever man.

We were both chatty at first, him blathering some nonsense about "poor Erica" and how I get blamed for doing things I didn't do, because I'm a perfect angel all the time. (Well, at least he's finally seeing that.) He said we should shoot a series caled "Poor Erica," and with each installment, I'd get some sort of unfair punishment. Sounds like Monday nights to me! (snort)

"So what scenarios should we use?" he asked.

"I dunno," I muttered. "Some of your lame-ass flimsy reasons, I guess."

Ouch.

"You're really not in a position to be making comments like that, are you?" (Well, no. But when has that ever stopped me?) I insisted that it was true, that he came up with the damndest reasons.

"That's just superior top logic in operation," he claimed. I said that was an oxymoron. He didn't like that either.

"NO, I'm not calling you a moron!" I screeched. "Don't you know what an oxymoron is??"

"Yes, I know what it is," he said. "But it still sounds like it should be the name of an infomercial or something. Doing Laundry with OxyClean for Dummies."

Jesus. Who put a quarter in him tonight?

By the way, here I am, playing the cheerful hostess and offering up the Spanking Buddy.

He liked how my panties tangled up on my feet and legs when I kicked. Said it was a good leg toner, using my panties like an exercise band. He should start his own gym and teach his own exercises.

Yeah, right.

All this jocularity was very well and good, but when he moved me to the ottoman, things began to transition. We got quieter and more focused, and he ramped things up.

No tears tonight. I wasn't feeling the need for emotional release. But I went so deeply into subspace, I couldn't speak any more. I heard incoherent noises... moans, groans, sighs, whimpers. Dreamily, I wondered where they came from, and realized they were my own.

It was an all-leather night, except for the final 10, much later, with the wooden paddle. He didn't ask me to count them, as he usually does. He knew I wouldn't be able to. I could barely take them, they hurt so much, and I shrieked into my pillow. And when they were over, I melted bonelessly into the cushions.

I didn't say anything for a long time. I didn't think about anything, either. My head felt refreshingly clean and clear, the usual nattering at bay. I could have shut my eyes and drifted to sleep, as he curled up next to me and stroked my back, my hair. When I finally spoke, my first slurred words were, "Can I slip into something more comfortable...like a coma?"

Ever want to freeze a moment in time? A moment when you feel so utterly right, so blissful and and at peace, you want to capture it and lose yourself in it?

Eventually, I know I have to raise my head, open my eyes, push my hair out of my face. But I put it off as long as possible. Fortunately, ST is patient. He waits. He soothes, and he waits.

We ended the evening by watching some SNL skits on Hulu. He'd never seen their parodies of the Lawrence Welk show, which are hysterical. You can't fully appreciate them unless you grew up with that stupid show, which we both did.

I am particularly sore tonight, squirming in my computer chair. Not complaining, however. It's the good pain. :-) I'm in my happy place.

Pre-emptive Strike(s)

Many strikes. Hundreds of them. What for? Nothing I'd done. No, these were what ST thinks I'm going to do. He say I'm going to get addicted to my new Smart Phone and be on it all the time, like everyone else.

Jeeeezus. I haven't even gotten the @#$%ing thing yet and I'm already in trouble for it.

I protested that I wouldn't do any such thing. He didn't believe me. He even had the nerve to suggest that I'll be on my cell phone tweeting and texting and doing God knows what while he's spanking me.

"That's ridiculous! Why would I even turn on my cell in my apartment? I have a landline and a computer here!"

Makes sense, right? But of course, to a spanker, the only logic is Top Logic and anything else is null and void. Humph. I guess I'll just have to prove it to him. He also warned me that if I ever text and drive, I'll never sit again. Not to worry... I don't intend to. With all the ranting and bitching I've done about other people doing it, I'd be the world's biggest hypocrite if I did it myself!

He congratulated me for being Chrossed, to which I moaned that I hadn't been Chrossed for two weeks in a row. "You're Chrossed lots of times!" he said. "You don't have to be every single week!"

"But I want to be every week!" I whined.

"Oh, so it's all about what you want, huh?"

Duh. Well, of course it is. What else would it be about? Silly of him to even ask such a thing.

"Well then, I guess I should spank you really hard, then, so you'll have something to write about."

I shrugged. "You don't have to. Even if you're light, I can spin it."

He didn't like the sound of that. "What do you mean, spin it?"

I said that I'd simply write a post about what a lame-ass he was tonight.

That did it. Me and my big mouth.

We changed things up a bit tonight, position-wise. He said we needed to make the pictures a little different. Hey, I'm all for that. But I didn't know "different" was going to be so damned uncomfortable.

Doesn't seem like it should be all that uncomfortable, does it? Well, it was. The top of the chair was digging into my belly and my shoulders ached from bracing with my arms.

Booo hoooooo. Yes, he felt so sorry for me. NOT.

After a while, he let me stand up and grip the chair. So nice of him, don't you think? I wasn't rolling my eyes, honest. I was looking skyward and thanking the deities for the kindness of this man.



Ah, finally I got to lie down. Funny, though... I didn't find a whole lot of comfort in that either.

But finally, we had our grand finale (20 with the big strap and 10 with the paddle). I was just a tad perplexed when he put me back over his knee, but this time it was just so he could massage on some lotion. :-)

Silly me, I thought we were done.

Nah. Later, I got up to change the channel on the stereo. Apparently, my bending over got him all hot and bothered again.

I swear, it's like a red flag in front of a bull! Back OTK I went for Round Two.

(And yes, those are cassette tapes. Not a word out of any of you. They're old and I don't play them anymore; most of them have been replaced by CDs or iTunes downloads. But I am a saver.)

He kept saying, "Just a few more." But then he got into a debate with himself about exactly what is "a few," anyway? More than two, less than 10? A few dozen? A few hundred? All the while he was musing over this nonsense, he was spanking away.

Oh yes, ST was in good form tonight. (groan)

It was a fun night; a lot of laughing. Sometimes, I just need to laugh. :-)  He certainly had his share of chuckles as well. (Have I mentioned lately that ST has the most diabolical laugh?)

And tomorrow, I plan to buy the aforementioned Smart Phone. Stay tuned for my adventures with that. I'm sure my Luddite self will be tested to the max!

What was that reason again?

Oh, that's right, I forgot. ST never needs a reason. If he doesn't have one, he makes one up. (put-upon eye roll)

Tonight, he was in quite the evil mood. Had a new and special way to mess with my head; he kept giving me light little taps with the implements, running them over my skin, brushing them against me, more light taps. And then when I'd least expect it, WHAM! I never knew when to brace myself, when to take a deep breath, when to hunker down. And that's exactly what he wanted.

At one point, he took soooooo excruciatingly long, teasing me with the strap, that I finally blurted, "Oh, for fuck's sake!" He laughed. "Am I boring you?

Before I could answer, he gave me several fast and hard whacks. "Was that boring?"

"I never said anything was boring!" I shrieked. Damn these tops! I can get myself into plenty of trouble without them putting words in my mouth!

Later, over the ottoman, he started up with the taps and brushes again. "Take that!" he teased. "Bet you won't do that again... whatever that was."

"AHA!" I yelped in triumph. "I knew it! You don't even know what you're spanking me for -- you just make shit up!"

No more tapping. "You wanna take that back?"

"I can't take it back! It's said! You can't unsay things!"

"I suggest you try. Say it backwards."

Oh, good grief. "UP SHIT MAKE JUST YOU!" I yelled.

Thank goodness he was satisfied with that; I didn't have to actually say the words backward. Uoy tsuj ekam tihs pu sounds like a foreign language.

He switched gears somewhere in the middle; went from playful to his more sinister side. His voice deepened, roughened; his hand fisted in my hair. When his fingernails dragged across tenderized flesh, I had to bury my face in the pillow.

"Please!" I cried. "Please, please!"

"Are you begging me?" he murmured. "I like it when you beg. I like it when you struggle, too." And I was doing plenty of that, writhing all over the ottoman. My mind screamed, "When is he going to stop??" My body sent a clear and opposing message: "Don't stop."

I don't know why tonight's photos don't show the red. Because it was most definitely there.

Finally, I felt cool, smooth wood moving back and forth, back and forth across my cheeks. "You know what's next, don't you?" I nodded.

"Ten more." I nodded again.

"They're going to be hard and fast." I moaned, clutched the pillows.

"Are you ready?" One more nod. But still, he didn't strike. More caressing, back and forth. I waited, shaking, legs twitching. "You sure you're ready?"

"I'm as ready as I'm going to be," I managed to say.

He delivered. So fast, I couldn't count. But I knew after 10, he'd stop.

Several minutes later, he asked me how I was. "Spacy," I murmured. I was bonelessly relaxed, mush-brained, and had the urge to giggle. Perfect.

We talked for a long time afterward, and it ended up being later than his usual time to leave. So guess who was in trouble for that?? Of course, he had to test all the toys before he put them away. Just to "make sure they still worked," he said.

"This is so wrong!" I protested. "Next week I'll remind you to leave on time, and you'll tell me I'm throwing you out and I'm a rude hostess!"

He didn't deny it. Rather despicable, isn't he? And I wouldn't have him any other way. ♥

In other news: HotMovies.com VOD (Video on Demand) site just put up its very first clips from Spanking Court! In Spanking Court Cases Vol. 1, there are two scenes, and Scene 1 is one of mine. :-) It's the one where the Court Disciplinarian and I face the judge, I have to confess to the name I called the C.D., and I get 200 wooden paddle strokes (and break down and cry). Scene 2 is with Alex Reynolds, the friend I met last week. I believe she cries in her scene as well. So this is a great clip for those who enjoy tears. (I wonder if it's the clip of hers where she broke the C.D.'s paddle? hee hee)

Here's a photo, speaking of red -- probably the most marked you will ever see me:

That's Judge Spanks, AKA Feenix on Fetlife. You can read all about the clip (and download it, if you so desire) here.

Two-and-a-half weeks to BBW!

I forgive you, Tim Burton

(No, I don't. I just said that 'cause ST insisted. Explanation to follow shortly.)

OK, I promised a more fun blog tonight; enough of this depressing life stuff for a while. I had doubts about whether or not I'd be able to deliver, but ST distracted me and made me laugh -- exactly what I needed.

So what's this about Tim Burton? Well. I'm not going to go into it a whole lot tonight; in the future, I will posting the mother of all rants, but I'm not ready for that yet. In a nutshell, here's the story: Y'all know how impassioned I am about Dark Shadows. And you're all no doubt familiar with Tim Burton, the man who has created all those bizarro movies over the years (some good, others dreadful). For years (literally), there has been talk about how he and Johnny Depp were collaborating on a Dark Shadows movie. Apparently Depp is a huge DS fan and has wanted to play the vampire Barnabas Collins for most of his life. Long story short, the film has finally become a reality. It opens in May, but the trailer came out about a week-and-a-half ago, along with the official movie poster.

Tim Burton and Johnny Depp have taken a much-beloved cult classic, a gothic horror soap opera, and turned it into a comedy. A campy, cheesy spoof of the show, with a vampire from the 1700s being released from a coffin into the 1970s (complete with disco, and Depp's character freaking out when he sees a television). While the original Barnabas looked like everyone else (so he could blend in and keep the secret of his vampirism), Depp's Barnabas has thick, pasty-white makeup on, with blood-red lips and dark rings around his eyes. He looks like a circus freak. Or Michael Jackson.

What a viral firestorm. You have the camp on one side, the tweens, the Twilight fans, the Burton-Depp-ites, who think it looks hilarious and can't wait to see the movie. Then there's the other camp -- the die-hard fans of the original who think this reinvention is a travesty. Twitter, Facebook and several forums have been buzzing with this controversy. And guess which camp I'M in?

It started when I first saw the trailer and went berserk. Then I started finding the various forums and posting on those. And finally, I found kindred spirits on Twitter and I have been tweeting bitchy, snarky comments about the movie and what I think of Burton & Co. ever since. Many have "favorited" and retweeted me. Others probably think I'm a complete pain in the ass and need a life.

An article in yesterday's L.A. Times Calendar section fanned the flames: it was about the film and the writer's tone toward the original show was rather condescending. Tim Burton was quoted as saying that technically, the original was "actually awful." Some fan! I was so pissed off, I wrote an email to Calendar Letters (let's see if they publish it). One of the stars of DS, Kathryn Leigh Scott, didn't care for the article either, and she blogged about it (I commented to her, but didn't include my blogsite link out of discretion). I tweeted my fool head off about it today. An example of my tweets? "So Tim Burton thinks the original Dark Shadows was awful? Mr. Burton, you can bite me. And not my neck, either."

So what does this have to do with tonight? Connect the dots, kids. I got taken to task for being such a "trouble-maker" and "wreaking havoc all over the Internet." Oh, good grief.

"It's just a movie!" he said, making his point (whatever the hell that was) with the Spanking Buddy.

"It is NOT!" I screeched in indignation. "It's a desecration of my childhood memories!" My melodrama didn't seem to faze him.

It got progressively more ridiculous as the scene wore on, with ST saying that Tim Burton and Johnny Depp probably saw my tweets and are highly insulted, and Johnny Depp probably wants to come over and spank me. (I didn't find that notion at all unpleasant, as long as he doesn't wear that stupid makeup.) I snapped that Burton and Depp have better things to do than to monitor my tweets.

ST also thought I was judging too much on just a trailer and I should see the movie. "Never!" I hollered. "Not in the theater, not on Netflix, not on DVD. They'd have to pay ME to watch it."

"You're like a child who won't try her peas!" he scolded. "You should try things before you decide you don't like them." Hey, if Tim Burton or Johnny Depp want to serve me peas, I'll eat them. But I'm not losing two hours of my life to that piece of dreck.

Long, long battle of wills, kiddies. Finally, ST had to concede that nothing he could do would stop me from continuing with my tweets and other postings, or change my mind about the new film. But really, I should be nicer to Burton and Depp. After all, it's the movie I hate, not them, per se. So... I had to count out 25 strap strokes and after each one, say, "I forgive Tim Burton and Johnny Depp."

Yes, really.

I was obedient, counting out each one and repeating the phrase. But after #25, I added (very loudly), "But their movie SUCKS!!!"

I had to have the last word, didn't I? I mean, we're talking principle here.

(And yes, I know I'm being utterly obsessive and silly about this, but you ain't heard nothin' yet.)

Anyway, here I am, holding the paper with that damned article:

Notice that header, "Playing with Dark Shadows"? That's exactly what those buttheads did. And here's what I think of it:

I've already tweeted the second picture. :-Þ

All silliness aside -- tonight, as always, ST managed to give me what I needed. Last week was about intensity. Tonight was about lightening up, having some laughs and just forgetting all the BS for a couple of hours.

What more could a bottom girl want, really? (Well, besides a little more respect for her show, but whatever...)

A visit from Mr. Hyde

(I'm going to beg the question here and assume y'all know the story of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.) :-)

I would say that most of the time, ST is Dr. Jekyll. Mild-mannered, soft-spoken, with a gentle nature despite his powerful right hand/arm.

Most of the time. But once in a while, when I least expect it, his inner Mr. Hyde comes out to play.

Tonight, he didn't even give me a hug when he came in the door. Just unceremoniously led me into the bedroom and pushed me facedown onto the bed. Not wasting any time, he pulled everything below my waist down and off.

"What did I do??" I blurted. He didn't answer, just gave me a few hard whacks. He pulled me back onto my feet, long enough to tie my hands together, then pushed me back down. After tying my feet, he then bound both ropes to the bed casters, so I couldn't budge.

"What did I DO?" I repeated. He leaned down and wound his fist into my hair.

"You didn't do anything."

Huh?

"I just have a head of steam built up, and I feel like spanking some ass. Since you're my spanking girl, you're the lucky recipient. And there isn't a damn thing you can do about it. Is there?"

I didn't answer, and he pulled my hair more firmly. "I asked you a question."

"No," I said meekly.

I suppose I should have been terrified. I trembled, but not from fear. I know I was in for it, and hard. But I also knew I was in very trusted hands.

And sometimes... sometimes, I like to go there. I like to play a little rough. But you guys know that.

You've also probably figured out that whenever ST is in Mr. Hyde mode, I usually end up in naked mode. Tonight, he decided my sweater and bra were in the way, after he'd tied my hands. So he just yanked them up and over my shoulders, where they remained bunched up for the rest of the scene.

Not to worry, it wasn't as uncomfortable as it looks. Just uncomfortable enough. :-)

Back on my stomach, I do believe I felt every implement in his bag, plus a couple of my own. All the while he teased me, said I had no idea what was coming next. He'd take brief breaks, caress my back and legs, then snap right back into the spanking. I couldn't cover my mouth with my hands, so I muffled it with the comforter. I could hardly move, but some of those implements made me writhe. Once, he tickled my feet with one hand and strapped me with the other. MEAN. Just mean.

He knew it, too. "I'm just so mean and horrible, aren't I?" I nodded vigorously. He leaned down to me once again. "But you like me that way, don't you!" Couldn't lie, now could I... I said yes.

"I guess we can get into some real spanking now, since the warmup is over, right?" he said.

"Whaaa?" I screeched. "There was no warmup!"

He insisted there was, but it was a "higher level" warmup. Oh, brother.

"Well, you're practically naked," he explained. "I was concerned that you'd get cold, so I wanted to make sure there was lots of heat emanating from your bottom."

OK, some things are just ridiculous. "You could have put on the fucking heater!" I hollered. Fortunately, by that point, Mr. Hyde was on his way out and ST just laughed.

But that didn't keep him from finishing me off with 20 belt strikes, followed by 20 paddle swats. Hard ones.

I really like the following photo, although I hate the straight-on angle. You all know how I feel about gyno shots. So yes, that is a little NO in a circle with a line through it, placed strategically. :-) 

We were both extra relaxed and mellow after that scene. Guess it did us both good.

A couple of news bits: There is a new e-book available called
My First Spanking: An Anthology. It is a collection of stories about first spankings, compiled and edited by Cassandra Park and published by Ravenous Romance. Yours truly contributed a story. I figured everyone and their mother knows the story of my real first spanking by now, so I wrote a fictional tale called "Just Ask Me."

Also, Suzy's Spanking Union (S S U) just put up a lovely review of this blog. Thank you, Suzy! I appreciate the kind words and the nice shout-out. :-)

Now, if I could just keep all these yummy post-spanking feelings for more than a few hours. If only they could form an invisible shield, protecting me from all the BS outside my haven. But alas...

I guess that's why there are so many Mondays. Sweet dreams, my not-so-evil Mr. Hyde.

Just call me Rush

No, I'm not a big fat malevolent blowhard. But, like Mr. Limburger, I do have a big mouth that gets me in hot water sometimes. :-)

As I'd mentioned, I was overdue. And I think ST was overdue to top as well; he'd had a crappy week dealing with the trouble and expense of his truck. So there was an edgy sense of anticipation between us when he first walked in, and we wasted little time with preliminary chit-chat.

Once we were in the bedroom and I was over his lap, he asked what kind of mischief I'd been up to in the past week. I insisted I hadn't been up to any. "Yeah," he said, "because you've got restraining orders against you!"

Well, I like that! Just a couple of weeks ago, he was on MY side. "You said that it was OK to defend myself," I protested.

"It is -- but it's not OK to engage with douchebags!"

I don't know what possessed me. I opened my mouth and heard this come out: "But I engage with you!"

Oh, Christ. Did I really say that? There was a split second while those words hung in the air, and then he practically tore off my shorts and panties. "Warm-up is over," he growled, grabbing for his bag.

The next several minutes are a blur of pain and scolding. "You think that was a good idea, talking to me like that?" "You going to say something like that again?" Normally, I keep position fairly well, save for my one errant foot flipping up. But this time, I kicked and squirmed and struggled so hard, he put me in a leg-lock. I think that's the first time he's ever done that.

"You need this, don't you! Spanking cures everything. It even cures amnesia." Huh? Amnesia? As if he could read my mind, ST added, "It seems you've forgotten how to be nice to people. Haven't you!"

Ouch.

Yeah, I know I was just kidding with him. But I felt ashamed anyway. Of all the people to insult, even teasingly -- this wonderful, dependable guy. This suddenly felt very real, both physically and emotionally.

"I'm sorry!" I wept. "You'd better be," he said, not stopping. "And I'm not done making you sorry, either. Am I?"

"No-o-o..."

I didn't want him to stop. I wanted to cry and hurt and gasp for breath. I wanted to be pushed. He knew it.

We'd barely started here. You can see I'm fisting the bedclothes already.

I was actually marking a little. What does Dana call these, strawberries?

I don't know how long the spanking lasted; probably not as long as it seemed. But he packed a whole lot into a short time.

I continued crying after he finished, long after he soothed me with lotion and pressed tissues into my hand. I was embarrassed to raise my head, knowing I looked runny and drippy and smeary-eyed, so I kept my face buried.

He never pushes me to look at him, thank goodness. He just waits patiently, rubbing my back and smoothing my wild hair.

I snuggled closer to him, but didn't speak for quite a while. When I finally did, the first thing I whispered was, "You know I wouldn't insult you for real, don't you?"

I felt him chuckle; he said yes. I know he knew. But I needed to hear it anyway. Then he added, "If you did, you'd never sit again."

I laughed. That felt delicious, after all the tears.

Later, we played some more, in our usual lighter vein (lighter in mood, that is, not in intensity!). I really need to come up with a better way of storing my own implements. I loop a bunch of them onto a hanger, and then when I try to pull one off, they all come off and fall on the floor. Then, of course, he says we have to use them all!

No wonder I was pouting.

And no, he didn't beat me with the wire hanger! It just ended up on the bed. Along with nearly my entire Cane-iac collection. (groan) Even though it was just five strokes with each toy, I was well tenderized at that point.

I believe I will sleep peacefully and dreamlessly tonight.

Did I mention that he spanked me a third time when we were downloading the pictures from his camera? Good lord. I hope we don't skip a week again anytime soon. :-)

Thank you, sweetheart.

Leap Day

So I logged in late this morning to my AOL address and found 135 returned emails. WTF?? I also got several emails from friends, all with the same message: "You've been hacked."

Ugh. My apologies to anyone who got funky spam email from me last night or this morning. I have changed my password and that seems to have halted the insanity. Also running a full spyware/malware scan. Oh, and to add insult to injury, I just got a rent increase.

This has not been a good few days -- not for me, not for some of my friends either. ST's car repairs are very expensive -- we're talking thousands. John has to go back to the doctor on Friday to get fluid drained from his knee. Family issues with another friend; play partner issues with yet another. And the beat goes on. As you can see, I deleted yesterday's post. I was in a vulnerable state and it was just too personal, and too damned abstract and weird. I did save it, along with all the kind comments people posted. So thank you.

But enough of that. In honor of Leap Day, I'm going to leap forward into some upcoming fun and happy times.

A week from this Saturday, the lovely Lily Starr will be in town, and I will be shooting Clips4Sale content with her and her boyfriend. The message she sent was a keeper, so complimentary and sweet (and the timing was perfect, as I got it around the same time I got that @#$%ing restraining order, so it cheered me up). So I will meet with them at their hotel and we're doing three scenes. (She usually shoots both M/F and F/F, but in this case, they'll be all M/F.) We were bouncing around a couple of ideas for plots, and here's mine -- I'll be taken to task for getting involved in online flame wars (straight out of the pages of FetLife). Rather timely, don't you think? We could have lots of fun with it. Of course, no names will be mentioned, but our friends will know! (snicker)

And in less than two months -- Boardwalk Badness!! I still can't believe we're going. But the tickets are paid for, the hotel room is booked (good thing, because they ran out of rooms) and so is our flight. I think I scored a good flight; non-stop both ways, $280 each. I figured I'd better lock that in, rather than take a chance that I could find something cheaper down the line. In fact, when I first found that flight, it was $258, but I didn't book it right way -- I waited to check with John. He said fine, absolutely, grab it. So I went back the next day, and damned if the same flight hadn't gone up to $280. In one freaking day!

The buzz is already starting on FetLife. So many people going, so much to do. I actually talked John into taking an extra day off, and we're flying in Thursday afternoon. We're going for broke -- it's a very expensive weekend and I doubt we'll repeat it next year, but this time, we're doing it all the way! Arriving Thursday, leaving Monday morning. I have a feeling I'm going to have to declare Thursday night a socialize-only, no-spank evening; have to pace myself, after all. I'm going to be among some incredible spankers, and meeting new ones (well, new to me). Mustn't let my eyes get bigger than my bottom.

Fasten your seat belts, kids. I'm going to be Neurotic Nellie for the next couple of months. (Yeah, I know. How is that any different than how I usually am? sigh)

ST asked me last night how I was. I said I'll be better next Monday, which is true. I can't wait to see him, and to get some of my favorite kind of stress release. For today, however, the gym will have to suffice.

RIP, Daydream Believer.

Not my usual Monday post

A few friends have commented/written to me that my Monday night session with ST will do me a great deal of good this week, help me release some stress. I agree. However, poor ST has his own stress; his car is in the shop and he can't get here. So no session for us tonight.

I did, however, have a catharsis of sorts on Saturday afternoon. The FetLife BS on Friday, coupled with what happened on this blog on Saturday while I was offline (the latter has been deleted and will not be discussed any further), sent me into spectacular Erica-esque meltdown mode.

John, bless his heart, did all the right things. Asked very few questions. Took me into the bedroom, closed the blinds and lay on the bed with me, pulling the comforter over us both. Reached across me to snatch several tissues from the box on the nightstand, grabbing more as I saturated the ones I had.

I felt ridiculous, telling him what was going on. I said he must think I'm an idiot, overreacting like this to online stuff; that I probably needed to get more of a life. He replied that my distress was real and it didn't matter what the reason was. I love him for that. Sometimes, when you're upset, you do NOT need to hear how others really have it bad and you need to get a grip. It doesn't help.

Finally, I settled down and slept. Order was restored. But, as with an alcohol bender, emotional excess ravages the body. Today, I find myself pale, puffy-eyed and sluggish, with a mildly queasy stomach. Perhaps it's just as well that I won't be playing. As much as I will miss ST, I don't think I'd be a fun playmate this evening.

However, since it's Monday, I feel somewhat beholden to post something entertaining. So I will call your attention to a few new sampler clips on Spanking Tube.

I mentioned a while back that "Tubaman" Paul had opened his clips4sale "Spanking 101" store. Last week, he put up two 5 1/2-minute samplers of some of the clips. You can get a nice idea of the variety of material he has from these samplers and I am hoping they will pique people's curiosity.

Here is Sampler #1:




And here is Sampler #2:




In #1, I turn up twice, and in #2, three times. Can you spot me? :-)

Also, in the Spanking Court clip collection, there's a new sampler, nearly 3 minutes long, of various spanking snippets. I'm in this one as well, for about 3-4 seconds, at 1:19.




And finally, because it's not really a Monday without a "happy Erica" photo, here's an oldie:

Some of you may remember this one: it's from my first session ever with ST (who was New Guy back then), nearly a year-and-a-half ago, right after my birthday.

I intend to feel like that again soon. Next Monday will return to regularly scheduled perversity, I promise.

Deja Vu all over again

The Valentine's Day corset, revisited! ST was able to exchange the small for a medium, no problem. Oh, and he found something out while he was back at Frederick's. Turns out the corset unhooks after all.

No, not in the front, which was where I searched for hooks. But all down one side, hidden in the seam, are hook-and-eyes. Last week's epic struggles to get me into that thing weren't necessary. Oops.

(blushing) See, told you I'm unsophisticated about corsets.

So this one I was able to get into myself, although I did enlist ST's help in hooking it and then tying up the back. And it fit perfectly!

He watched while I pulled on the stockings and buckled my shoes, snapping candid photos. He likes to do that. And I end up deleting most of them, because I don't like how I look. However, every now and then, one comes out pretty well, I think:

A little something for the legs and feet folks. :-D

Of course we had to take one from the back, just so you could see how much better this one fit:

Enough of that. We had to get down to business.

I've been in a different place the last few sessions; a quieter version of myself. Hard to believe, I know. But I haven't really felt like bantering or sassing as much, not once we get past warmup. Not sure why; I just want to feel. To get lost in sensation; hear nothing but my own breathing, my own moans, the cracks of his hand and the implements.

I don't remember what he did, or in what order. I don't care. I just know I went someplace with him and I didn't want to come back. It took me a very long time to open my eyes and lift my head.

He was patient. He was in no hurry either.

Eventually I returned, and he hunkered down next to me on the chair. We listened to the music playing. My favorite local radio station has been airing a special program for the past week or so: a selection of 2000 songs from their library, played in alphabetical order, no repeats. Tonight, they were well into the S's and "Shine On You Crazy Diamond" by Pink Floyd was playing.

I like to try guessing what comes next. Sometimes I'm spot on, but I couldn't come up with the next song to save my life. Or my ass, as it happened. Because ST said if I couldn't guess the next song, he'd spank me all through it. Aggggghhhh!

Shine? Shining? Shirt? Shiver? Perhaps no more songs with Shi, but one with Sho? I was blanking. As the song wound to a close, he kept prompting me, "You'd better come up with something! It's almost over!" But it was no use.

Then the opening chords of the next song began, and I cussed mightily. DAMMIT! "Shiny Happy People" by REM. I hate that stupid song. No wonder I couldn't think of it.

I hate it even more, now. :-(  Never realized how @#$%ing long it is.

However, I was able to come up with the song after that. Yay me!

It was "Ship of Fools" by the Doors, by the way. Yes, I'm easily entertained.

When ST was leaving, I thanked him once again for the beautiful corset, saying it was very generous of him. He leered at me, his eyes leisurely wandering from shoulder to hip. "I didn't buy it for you," he smirked.

Oh, yes you did, darlin'. You bought it for both of us. :-)

Hope everyone had Presidents' Day off!

Happy (almost) Valentine's Day ♥

So why does a cynical curmudgeon like me love Valentine's Day, you ask? Simple. It's that Late Bloomer thing again. Many, many Valentine's Days spent alone when I was young, gorging myself on See's Candy and crying. Hating all the damned ads and commercials, all the pretty displays in the malls. Feeling like Charlie Brown. ("I know nobody loves me; why do we have to have Valentine's Day to emphasize it?")

Then I met John... and I've loved Valentine's Day ever since. :-) Yeah, I know it's commercial. I don't care.

My sweetie is still sick and injured, but he sent me roses -- a whole week early! He figured I'd be more surprised that way, and I was. I'm hoping we can celebrate this coming weekend, if he feels better.

But in the meantime, I had a lovely time tonight with my toppy Valentine, ST. He had quite the nice surprise for me as well.

After he arrived and sat down, he pulled over his toy bag and started unzipping it. Hmmm; guess we're going to skip the small talk, huh? But then he said, "Well, what have we here?" and he pulled out a bright red Frederick's of Hollywood shopping bag. !!!!

I love Frederick's. VS is nice, but I like Frederick's so much more. Looking inside the bag, I first noticed a package of black thigh-high stockings, fishnet, with a seam up the back and lace tops. Gorgeous! There was also something bundled in black tissue paper, which I eagerly opened. Ohhhh, my. It was a red-and-black lace corset, with black spaghetti straps and garters attached.

I've never had a corset, so this was another first for the late bloomer. I've tried them on, but I never would let John buy me one, protesting that they're too expensive. I'd make jokes, saying I enjoyed breathing. But this was exquisite. Came with a little matching g-string, too. The kind of thing I'd ooh and aah at dreamily in a store window, but would never buy for myself.

We did have a little comedy of errors getting me into my new outfit, however. Too bad we didn't film it; it was pretty hilarious. This corset has the usual lacing up the back, but unlike some others, it doesn't open in the front. So the only way to get it on was over my head. Unfortunately, it was a size small. I'm flattered, but it was too small. I may be thin, but I'm tall and I have wide shoulders. So, the wrestling began. I was determined to wear it tonight anyway.

ST loosened the lacing as much as possible, and then I pulled it over my head. I stood with my arms straight up while ST yanked and pulled, but it wouldn't budge. He managed to get it loosened just a bit more, then tugged down on it, tugging and tugging (and cracking me up with his grunting noises) until finally it went down past my shoulders and over my torso. Then he tightened the lacing. There was a several-inch gap when it was pulled as tight as he could get it, but it still looked spectacular.

And then the fishnet stockings! Those fit perfectly, and I recruited ST to snap the garters in place for me (those were rather uncooperative and took several attempts). But at last, I slipped on some heels, and voila:

Isn't it lovely? That was worth the work to get it on me! I feared I wouldn't be able to get it back off, but we put that aside for the time being. After all, we had other things to do.

We kept it simple tonight, implement-wise. Of course, we had to use the heart-shaped paddle that he made for me last Valentine's Day. He also wanted to draw hearts on my bottom with eyeliner or a Sharpie and then fill them in with reddened flesh, but I nixed that idea. (insert eye-roll here) Along with the paddle, just a couple of his straps plus the leather spanking buddy. No canes tonight. And mostly OTK, although I took a fair amount of strapping while bending over/kneeling on the bed.

You know why he was spanking me? Because I was wearing naughty clothes. "You bought me those naughty clothes!" I protested. "Yes, but you didn't have to wear them! I was just testing you!" Oh, brother.

Not much banter tonight, once I settled down and stopped giggling. I felt sexy and sensual and my body relished every stroke deeply. I went so far into subspace, he didn't even ask me to count the final flurry. He knew I wouldn't be able to.

Bliss. ♥

Of course, once we wound down and had uploaded the photos from his camera, it was time for Operation Remove Corset. It was actually a little easier than it had been getting it on; he loosened the ties, had me raise my arms over my head and then he yanked upward. Yank-yank-yank, and then it gave way and popped off. He's going to take it back and exchange it for a medium. (OK, so I wore it a couple of hours. Sue me. :-Þ I was freshly showered!)

I had a little heart-shaped box of Ferrero Rocher chocolates for him, which I gave him as he was leaving. Sweets for a very sweet man.

To everyone who celebrates it, happy Valentine's Day. For those who would just as soon bypass it, happy Tuesday. I'm going to spend my afternoon squirming in the dentist's chair, and making him wonder why I'm smiling. :-)

Takin' it for Cane-iac!

Recently, the good folks at Cane-iac wrote and asked if they could send me a few new things, so I could test and review them. Naturally, I said yes, without even asking what was coming my way.

Their package arrived late last week, and I opened it to find the Pink Stripe Rubber Loop Set (two sizes: 12" and 18") and the Lexan Paddle OTK, a 12" paddle sized perfectly for over-the-knee.

(gulp) Rubber? Lexan? I hadn't experienced Lexan before, and I'd heard it described in many colorful ways, from mild (it's not very forgiving) to strong (it sucks). But I was determined to be a brave spokesperson and put myself in ST's capable hands with these beasts beauties. After all, I do believe in this company and their product.

So tonight when ST arrived, I showed him the new toys (and watched his eyes light up, the sadist), and we talked about how we'd handle the testing. I remembered the last time I'd done a demo with their implements, ST had given me a nice long warmup, and as a result, I didn't get lasting color or any marks. Bravely I suggested that perhaps we should forego the warmup and go straight to the new implements. His eyes lit up even more and his grin was positively diabolical. Of course HE thought that was a good idea.

Off to the bedroom we went. I tried taking a "before" picture, holding all three implements, but as it turned out, they didn't show up well against my sweater:

So we did this type of before picture instead:

We decided to do 20 strokes of each toy per round, taking pictures in between.

He began with the Jr. (12") rubber loop, which is a great OTK toy. Without a warmup, the first round with the implements hurt like crazy, but I could still get a clear sense of how each one felt. The rubber loops were very snappy, more of a sting than a thud (which I like), and the loud CRACK they made was impressive. After 20 each of both the Jr. and the Sr. (18"), ST picked up the Lexan paddle.

Perhaps it's a good thing we weren't filming. Upon my first taste of Lexan, I used some language that would have been inappropriate for Cane-iac's site. Ouch, ouch, ouch.

Once I acclimated a bit, I realized it had a feel that's unlike leather or wood. It's not as thuddy as wood, even though it's more solid and firm than leather. It has a very crisp sting and a bite upon impact (this particular one is 1/4" thick). Cane-iac's Lexan paddle is well made, with smooth, rounded edges and a non-slip vinyl handle. ST wanted me to mention that it felt very good to him (rolling eyes) and it was easy to use.

Here I am after two rounds of 20 with all three (120 strokes total):

We're just getting started!

Time for another position -- instead of on the bed, now it was bent over a chair. By now, I was quite warm and that sweater had to go.

Third set of 20 with all three -- bit more color now. And I was stamping and fussing a lot more.

(Big thanks to Zelle for Photoshopping the damn tag out of my bra! ♥)

But wait, there's more! All three of these toys could be used OTK, even the 18" loop. So over his lap I went.

We stopped counted the sets of 20; he just whaled away at this point. ST takes his product testing duties very seriously.

After three positions and countless strokes, I'd say we'd done a good test, and all three implements passed, even the Lexan. Once I was warmed up, I sorta kinda didn't completely hate it. OK, I loved to hate it. Or I hated to love it. Something like that.

So now I have three new additions to my collection, and I would recommend these to anyone who wants something different from the usual. The prices are excellent, and you cannot beat Cane-iac's customer service or quality of craftsmanship.

My one caveat about the rubber loops? I would say exercise caution about using them anywhere you're concerned about noise, because they do make a distinctive and loud snap. But as I always say, if your neighbors don't hear an accompanying shriek, they can't say for sure what you're doing. So make sure you stifle your reactions with a pillow or bedspread and you should be fine.

Oh... did you think we were done?

Hell, no. I had to retrieve the rest of my Cane-iac arsenal.

I was so sore after all those, he even let me rub:

However, despite it all, I couldn't stop giggling. I tried to tell him it was hysteria, but he didn't buy it. I pushed him a bit too far with this pose -- you can't see it very clearly, but I have my middle finger stuck through the loop:

OK, OK! I'm sorry! Sheeesh... Some people have no sense of humor.

By the way, I broke my Junior rattan cane. I would have taken a picture of it, but we couldn't find the piece that flew off. Honest to god, we searched all over the bed, on the carpet, under the bed -- that damn thing just disappeared. Knowing me, I'll find it with my bare foot eventually.

Even without a warmup, I didn't mark. Scary. But ye gods, I'm sore. Happily so, though. I needed this tonight.

(Right, Erica. When do you not need it??)

Thank you, Cane-iac. And thank you, ST, Testing Partner Extraordinaire. :-)