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!

Friday, September 30, 2011

Correspondence Hall of Shame, 9/30

First CHoS of Fall 2011. Way overdue, huh? Besides, I've been feeling especially snarkastic the past couple of days (my new favorite word).

I wanna spank you. Then fuck you. Eat your pussy.

I don't know where you're from, but we do not eat our pets in this country.

I have been a Master/Daddy for 25 years. The perfect little girl never questions her Master/Daddy, and thinks of his needs above her own.

Damn shame I'm not perfect, huh? This little girl's need, at the moment, is for you to take your ginormous Domass ego and... well, you figure it out, Papi.

Would love to spank you and then mount you with my large hard rich guy looking for some kinky fun

I saw your picture, Richie Rich. You're lying about the sexy part, so you're probably lying about the large cock too.

And here's my favorite:

Im pretty new to this site & came across ur photo. Im a tattoo artist fro. San diego. Im very much into the tits & bottoms of a lady. Being a tattoo artist i do enjoy inflicking some pain into my sex, spanking, tit squeezing, anal sex on a women & some biting. I do like to take control when were having sex.. BUT I ALSO LIKE BEING BIT & SCRATCHED HARD ENOUGH TO DRAW BLOOD...

Tattoo artist, huh? Since you enjoy inflicking [sic] pain and you like a bit of pain yourself, here's a tat suggestion. Tattoo "I'm with" on one testicle, and "Stupid" on the other. And on your cock? That's right, "Stupid." That is, assuming it's big enough to accommodate six letters.

This isn't really a CHoS entry, but I'm including it 'cause I feel like it. Earlier this week on FetLife, in the group "Spank You Very Much," someone posed the question, "Is it true that the more firm one's ass is, the more a spanking hurts?" (rolling eyes) Kind of a dumbass question, way too simplistic, but that's not my point.

Part of one man's reply read as follows: "I've encountered some ladies with well padded bottoms who could barely handle a hand spanking and some with bony bottoms which outlast most hands and some implements (Erica Scott – aka the 'bionic bottom' – comes to mind)."

OK, I appreciate the shout-out, truly. But... bony?? Really? That's the best modifier he could have chosen? Part of me laughed, but another part was rather ticked off.

News flash, Skippy. First, thin women don't like the word "bony" any more than women with a few extra pounds like the "f" word. Not at all flattering. And second, I am not bony. What I have back there is muscle tone. Which will feel like bone to your poor little soft hand, but it's quite a different substance.

And finally, I'm throwing in another one of those baffling keyword search phrases:

flexible legs behind head feet

Join me, kids... WTF?

Tomorrow, I go back to Spanking Court. I haven't been there since July, so I am really looking forward to it. Not just because of the shoot itself, but I can't wait to see them all again! :-)  Should be great fun; I'm doing two scenes, and as we left off on a cliffhanger (me causing the Court Disciplinarian to blow his cork and do something really inappropriate), we'll take up with my hauling him into Court with me and having it out in front of the Judge.

I'm sure all will be resolved nicely -- the Judge will dismiss the Disciplinarian's sorry ass, after he is commanded to sincerely apologize to me for his gross mistreatment. Right? Right?

:-) Have a great weekend, y'all.

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

OT Rant: The latest and greatest in disgusting food

Been a while since I did one of these. Last April, to be exact, when I ranted about Denny's bacon sundae. Well, they're at it again.

Having come to the end of their "Baconalia" cholesterol fest, they decided to move on to "Let's Get Cheesy." Imagine the possibilities. Now take those possibilities, stuff them with cheese, dump cheese on them, and then cover them with cheese sauce. There's so damn much cheese, you don't know whether to eat it or take a bath in it.

All the items on this featured menu are disgustingly decadent, but I'm focusing on the most outrageous: The Mac 'n Cheese Big Daddy Patty Melt. (OK, I don't know about you, but I'd feel like a horse's ass just ordering it. What a stupid name.)

Here it is, in all its gluttonous glory. Buttered and grilled potato bread (God forbid it should be wheat bread). A burger patty, melted cheese, and Frisco sauce (whatever the @#$% that is; probably mayonnaise-based). And then? Yup. A layer of macaroni and cheese.

This sandwich has 1690 calories (I don't eat that many calories in a whole day!!) and 99 grams of fat. If you were to eat a stick of butter, that would be a healthier choice.

But wait, there's more! It comes with a side of French fries, accompanied by dipping sauce. Ketchup? Nah. Cheese sauce. In case you're still cheese deficient.

When does this stop, people? According to the latest statistics, 33.8% of adults in America are obese. No, not overweight, obese. As in morbid. Obesity-related diseases and conditions are on the rise. Children and adolescents are getting fatter. Food portions are getting bigger, fattier, cheesier, breadier, sweeter. The media tell us to diet. The restaurants and food ads gleefully encourage massive gorging.

Let's just make it simple, shall we? Take a wheel of cheese, batter it and deep-fry it, smother it in chocolate sauce and whipped cream, and eat that six times a day. At least that will cure one of the world's problems: overpopulation.

Granted, I don't like bacon and I'm not all that crazy about cheese either. But even if I did like these food items, I'd eat them in moderation. A slice or two of pizza with a normal amount of cheese is fine. Do you really need triple-thick-crust pizza with five kinds of cheese piled on it, with more cheese baked into the crust???

Oh, and if you're hankering for some dessert after that macaroni mashup, another "Let's Get Cheesy" item is a Strawberry Cheesecake Milkshake. Ice cream blended with cream cheese and cheesecake chunks.

Could be worse, I guess. They could have crafted a Hot Cheese Sundae.

OK, I just made myself sick with that one. Later, y'all.

Monday, September 26, 2011

Tonight's scene...

... was very personal. ST did not stop to take pictures during it. His focus was singular -- taking care of me.

We talked beforehand. I thought I was all cried out, but dammit, I wasn't. I guess I never am.

He was concerned, very caring, and asked me what I wanted. I said, "I'll tell you what I don't want. I don't want you to handle me with kid gloves."


"No. I won't shatter."

I just wanted to go someplace else for a while. He knew. He took me there.

We did not banter tonight. He did not scold. It wasn't necessary.

Afterward, I couldn't move for a long time. He lay on the carpet next to my chair, let me recover. Eventually, I scooted off the chair onto the carpet next to him and put my head on his chest. And there we stayed. I didn't fix my clothes, I did nothing. Just felt the burn and sting and let my breathing settle back down.

Quite a while later, he got up. I stayed prone on the carpet, and he took a picture then. Of course, I was mostly faded. But I don't get much more relaxed than this.

I'm not sure how I feel about last night's blog. Part of me is rather embarrassed by it. Still, I don't wish to delete it. It was honest.

Thank you for all the supportive comments. Funny how they ran the gamut, with the two polarities ranging from, "Don't do it, you don't need it" to "Go for it." I know cosmetic surgery is a hot button topic, and some people are fiercely against it. Here's my take: I don't like it when it's used as a panacea; when people think it will fix their lives. It won't. I don't like it when it's done to extreme and people are left with freakish frozen masks. I hate the idea of Botox; I just can't wrap my head around shooting poison into my face.

HOWEVER. Life is not easy, and like it or not, looks do matter. If someone has something or another that is fixable, that would make them feel better, more confident, whatever, if it were addressed, then I'm all for fixing it. If they can afford it, if they are safe about it and do their research, if they had their heads screwed on straight beforehand... more power to them, I say.

But I'm cannot condone paying for things I can't afford to pay for. No matter how much I want them. I just can't. So I have to work this out some way, or let it go.

John sent me flowers today. I came home from the gym and found them on my doorstep.

It's now 24 hours since I wrote my last blog. Nothing has changed in those 24 hours; my situation and my feelings are the same. But thanks to the love of two wonderful men and some supportive friends, I'm at peace with unresolved problems. Those damned nattering negative voices have been stifled.

No matter how sad, scared or crazed I get, I don't lose sight of what I have. Even through my tears, I'm aware that I'm lucky in so many ways.

So drowsy. I believe I will sleep well tonight.

Sunday, September 25, 2011


... can break your heart. Couple it with insecurity, and it can possess you.

I will probably regret this entry. I may remove it... but probably not. I have always endeavored to be honest, to reveal all sides of myself, and I'm not going to stop now.

Without delving into a whole lot of detail about my finances, I will boil it down to this. Once upon a time, I had retirement/emergency savings. Thanks to some money my father left me plus my own frugality, I was pretty well set for the future. I was able to pay my bills with freelance work and I spent little on myself. I could take a distribution each year from my decedent IRA, but I kept those small. I knew I wasn't going to get married and that I'd have to take care of myself when I got old. That seemed like a doable goal.

Then the economy went to hell a few years ago. Two things happened; my freelance work all but dried up, and my investments lost some of their value. And I started taking bigger distributions, because I had to live on them.

I waited for things to get better. They didn't. My skills are good, but highly specialized, and nowadays people want employees, even freelance ones, to have way more knowledge and capabilities than I do. I didn't want to go back to the full-time office grind; it nearly killed me when I was in it. So I kept hoping for the best, and kept taking money out. Everything got more expensive. My medical insurance alone is nearly $1000 a month.

I still have some savings. I am not destitute. But the future is no longer sewn up like it once was.

So what do I want to do? Spend a whole lot of money. On something for my vanity.

I have a fairly youthful body. Some of that is luck; a lot of it is old-fashioned hard work with diet and exercise. But I can't exercise my face. I see myself in the mirror, in pictures, and my eyes are unwillingly drawn to the hanging flesh under my chin and on my neck. Yes, a wattle. I look like a turkey.

I got my frugal side from my mother, which is why I have very old furniture and old electronics. I don't wear designer clothes/shoes, I buy drug store cosmetics. I don't go to expensive shows and plays, I don't travel. I live simply. I have not one penny of debt. So thank you to Mom for that, for my ability to live that way without wanting, wanting, wanting. But I also got her crippling vanity, her obsession with looks.

In my mother's lifetime she has had: Breast implants, a nose job, two facelifts, her eyes done twice, at least one laser peel (probably more), and liposuction. Where she got the money for all that, I don't know. Yes, she looked great.

There is a famous cosmetic surgeon in Los Angeles; I know his name well, I know some of his patients, I've seen his ads and local-access programs. He does beautiful, subtle work. Recently, I saw an ad for one of his procedures, called a laser necklift. He had an offer going for a free consultation. Oh, what the hell, I thought. I made an appointment for one.

Last Wednesday, I went to see him. He was a lovely man, talked with me, explained the procedure and what it would entail. Because it was considered a "mini" lift, the cutting would be minimal, and all behind my ears, nothing would show. Unlike a full facelift, it would not require drains, and the recovery time would be short. And as he manipulated my skin with his deft fingers, he showed me in the mirror how I would look. My wattle would be gone and my lower face would be smoothed out. I'd look about 15 years younger.

I was ecstatic... until his assistant told me the cost. I felt sick, and told her there was no way I could touch that. She saw how my face had dropped even further than usual and said, "Let me talk to him and see what I can do," and she left the room for a few minutes. When she came back, she had gotten the doctor and the anesthesiologist to lower their costs by about a third. It was a substantial discount.

But still very expensive.

And yet, I couldn't bear to tell her no. I told her I'd think about it. And I did. By the time the day was over, I'd convinced myself this was meant to be, that I wanted this more than anything, and I would take it out of my savings. I'd make it work. What the hell... my life is now, right? What if I get hit by a bus when I'm 60? What's the point of denying myself every damn thing?

It would be my birthday present to myself, I rationalized.

I got excited... euphoric, even. Every time I looked in the mirror, I'd make a face at that loose flesh and think, "You're history." I looked forward to seeing my image in the mirror and in pictures without cringeing.

I'd be pretty again. Not pretty "for my age," but youthfully pretty. I'd recapture the looks I had in my wasted years, the ones where I was too depressed to feel attractive.

On Friday night, John and I went out to dinner. As we ate our sushi, I told him of my plan. He very calmly said, "You can't do that. You don't have the money."

I got angry. "I do too have it," I insisted. "I'll take it out of savings."
"You're already living on that savings," he pointed out. "It's not a bottomless well. You're burning through it, you're out of work, and now you want to spend an additional [ridiculous amount of money]? Can't you see how that makes no sense?"

He wasn't unkind. He was sympathetic, non-judgmental, said he understood the desire and if I had the money, he'd encourage me to go for it. But I didn't have it.

Of course, he was right. And I felt myself crash down into reality. I'm not rich. I'm a middle-aged, unemployed woman with an uncertain future. I can't afford to do this for myself. I just can't.

I wish I didn't want it so damn much. I wish it didn't mean so much to me.

I sat in the restaurant, tears rolling down my face. I couldn't stop. John tried his best to cheer me up, to make me feel better. He said maybe I could do this in the future. Maybe I should redouble my efforts to find work. Maybe, maybe, maybe. "I think you're beautiful," he said. I know he means that, and I love him for it. But love is blind. He also thinks I look like the T-Mobile girl in the commercials. I look nothing like her, aside from the fact that we're both brunette.

Saturday, I forgot things temporarily, as John took me out for a lovely dinner and we had champagne. But every time I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror, in the car window, etc., my heart sank. Today, when I was ready to leave for home and knew I'd be alone once again with my thoughts with no distractions, I started to cry again. Dammit. I hate being such a crier. I wonder where it all comes from sometimes; I feel like if I don't stop, I'll dry up and blow away.

When my mind is in this negative state, it wanders into other dangerous territory. I started thinking about some scene women I've known, the ones who get things given to them. Both femdoms and subs... their rent, new cars, trips, etc. I wrote in my book about some of the stories I heard when I was working in the dungeon. It seemed unfair to me even then, how some women didn't have to do anything and men just gave them things.

John was seeing a domme, a young and beautiful one, whose primary slave paid her rent and her bills. This guy made a ton of money and gave freely to her. And what did she have to do in return? Not much, except abuse him. She didn't even have to have sex with him; she saw to it that he wouldn't have sex with anyone again. Yes, she ruined his manhood, physically. I'll spare you the details of how. And he let her. When I expressed my shock and disgust to John, he said, "He wanted it. He got off on it." Yeah, well. He won't be getting off on anything else.

She once said to John, "I think you should show me your devotion and buy me a new car." Fortunately, he wasn't that devoted.

I used to look at those situations and feel contempt and anger. I don't want someone to pay my rent. I don't need fancy clothes and jewelry; what would I do with them? My old furniture (that's so old, someone referred to it as "retro") is still comfortable. I am not interested in travel. But you know what? If some well-to-do, kind person were to hand me a check and say, "Here, Erica. Go knock 10-15 years off your face, with my blessing," I'd take it.

I'm not proud of this. But it is what it is.

John held me for a long time before he let me go home today. I know he's worried about me, feels bad that I'm so down on myself. I'm grateful for him. Because I know others would look at this desire, this need, and think I'm vain and foolish. But I can't help it.

Why am I writing all this? Because it's where I'm at. Because keeping it bottled up and secret makes it worse.

If you've managed to read through this... thank you.

Thursday, September 22, 2011

Thank you so much!

It's only 12:30 PM on my birthday, and already I'm overwhelmed with greetings. My email boxes, my wall on FetLife, my blog, on Twitter and even on good old vanilla Facebook -- so many happy birthdays! I feel like a little kid right now, hyped up on cake, and I haven't had a bite of sugar.

And no birthday of mine is complete without a new WolfieToon from dearest Dave Wolfe -- check out this year's gem!

Look at all the details! He's got Quentin in there, the CHoS archtype, the chair is property of Shadow Lane... and I'm signing his book "Doofus"!  LOL

I love you, Wolfie!  ♥

I have no plans today, except for gym and paying bills and other mundane stuff, but I'm sure the Internet will keep me entertained all day. :-)

I am so, so happy today. Thank you, everyone.

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

OT: Adventures in public transportation

As I'd mentioned earlier, John wanted me to see a specialist/periodontist for a second opinion on whether or not I needed oral surgery on my receding gums. My appointment was yesterday. This doctor was highly rated and John had had work done by him, so I had faith that I was doing the right thing. However, his office is in the heart of downtown L.A., which is a driver's nightmare: a maze of traffic, one-way streets and parking garages that charge you the equivalent of renting a room. So I decided to take public transportation.

The process?

1. Walk to the bus stop.
2. Take the MTA bus to the subway station.
3. Take the subway downtown.
4. Walk four blocks to dentist's office.

This took two hours. But at least I didn't have to drive.

Upon my arrival, I filled in the usual sheaf of forms, with some interesting new questions thrown in along with the standards. "Would you say you are a nervous person?" (Yes.)  "Are you apprehensive about dental procedures?" (Very.) I then waited an hour to be put in a dentist's chair, where I waited some more.

Busy doctor. Back and forth between me and two other patients. However, he did spend a ton of time with me. Did a thorough exam, and told me that if everyone's mouth/teeth were as healthy as mine, he'd be out of business. When I smiled at that, he said, "You don't have to gloat." I liked this guy.

I liked him even more when he recommended that we simply keep an eye on the recession, rather than taking an aggressive action now. I had plenty of root to the teeth, the teeth were not at all mobile and I was in no danger. If I monitored it, changed my brushing habits, etc., perhaps it could reverse itself. But even if it didn't and stayed as is it now, it was quite livable.


Thank you for another early birthday present, Dr.

I was there for three hours, and it took another hour-and-a-half to get home. The subway was standing room only at that hour... fun fun fun. How do people do this every day?? I gained a new respect yesterday. At least the bodies I was crammed up against seemed to be well washed.

Nice end to the day -- I found a package on my doorstep when I got home. Upon opening it, I was happily surprised to find Tina Fey's biography, Bossypants. Craig sent it to me for my birthday. Thank you, Craig! :-D  He knows I adore that woman. I always liked her on SNL, but after 2008 and that dead-on sendup of Sarah Palin, she became one of my heroes.

OK. No oral surgery, for now. I can keep all the pain in my bottom, where it belongs.

Monday, September 19, 2011

A Tale (Tail?) of Two Birthdays

First, I have an announcement. I am officially retiring the name "New Guy." So no more New Guy, no more NG. Since he goes by the name SpankoTango on FetLife, I'm going to refer to him as ST. As one friend said, that could also stand for SuperTop. Which he most certainly is.

Tonight, the 19th, fell right between his birthday (the 15th) and mine (the 22nd), so I figured we were celebrating both this evening. I bought a giant chocolate cupcake and put two candles in it.

He came bearing gifts: A collector's set of four Yellow Submarine glasses, plus a bag of reusable "ice cubes" (you freeze them and put them in your drinks) -- in the shape of yellow submarines! How cool is that?

I thought for sure he'd combine his new age and mine and give me that amount for the birthday spanking. But no, he stuck with 54. Nice of him, right?

Yeah, right. Fifty-four with his hand... and every single fucking implement he had, plus three of mine. Twelve in all, plus his hand. One right after the other after the other.

Don't bother checking the calculator. That's 702. Oh, wait -- he gave me one to grow on with his hand. So, 703. And that's not even counting the warm-up.

Happy effing birthday to me!!

Here's the arsenal:

And me, under the arsenal:

I started out laughing, being a wise-ass, even had the nerve to count one stroke as a half (never again! Ouch). By the last couple of implements? Notsomuch.

"I love your birthday spankings," he teased. "I wish every week was your birthday."

AAAGGGGGHH! Please! I'm ageing quickly enough as it is, thank you. :-)

Oh, and he saved the heart-shaped paddle for last, 'cause he loves me so much. Yup. I was feeling the love, all right.

Afterward, we had our cake. Here's ST, enjoying his. Isn't he cute? But wait... what's that on his face?

(giggling) Silly man. Fork must have slipped.

What a lovely way to start Birthday Week! (Hey, any self-respecting attention whore stretches birthdays out to last a week, I'm thinking.)

Thank you, ST. My Sweet Top.

Friday, September 16, 2011

Thank you and questions

Thanks to everyone who posted birthday greetings to New Guy. As you can see, they motivated him to come out of the woodwork and post a comment! :-) And he let the cat out of the bag... yes, my own birthday is next week. Gawd, am I screwed. This Monday, I'm in for both his birthday spanking and my own!

(OK, so it sounds like I'm complaining. But you know I'm really not.)

Some thoughts for you to ponder. First, since we've been playing for a year now, calling him New Guy is kind of ridiculous. But I can't seem to get past that name. I don't want to use his first-name initial; that's too mundane. Suggestions, anyone? (And don't suggest "Old Guy." I'm older than he is.)

Second, I've had a request for a book signature via snail mail. Should I get a P.O. Box? I've never had one before. Are they good things to have, or not worth the cost in today's electronic world?

Third, John has asked me to research laptop computers. Neither of us has one, and we are thinking about either getting one for him that I can borrow when we go on party trips, or splurging and getting one for each of us.

So I started researching online last week, and my head exploded.

I know nothing about wireless technology -- I still have a desktop with the old-fashioned snarl of wires and cords. I have no idea how wireless computers work and what one needs. There are about six different subgroups in laptops; OK, I know I don't need a fancy gaming one, but I don't want the super cheapo budget ones either. I know you get what you pay for. For John, it should be portable; for me, it would be more of a desktop replacement. The array of features is damn near impossible to navigate. And every time I think I've narrowed down my search to a brand, a model, etc., because I've read good reviews on it, then I find bad ones.

Please, PLEASE do not suggest a Macbook. Yes, I know how Mac users feel about their computers. Yes, I know the Macbook is superior. But it's too expensive and I've never used a Mac before. I am sticking with a PC.

So, with that caveat in place, does anyone have thoughts about what's good, what gives the most bang for the buck, blah blah blah? I'd say the budget is between $500-1000, although John and I disagree on that. He wants to go cheap, I want to go a little higher and get better quality.

Currently, I have a Dell. But I've read that Dell laptops aren't as good as some of the other brands out there. I've seen a lot of good reviews for a brand called Asus, and I've never heard of them.

And how does one become laptop/wireless savvy? Is there a site where one can go with some good, current basics that's understandable to computer dummies like me?

Yup, there's a good representation of me trying to navigate all this techno information. I might as well be trying to learn a new language. Do they have Rosetta Stone software for people who don't speak computer?

That's enough questions for now, I suppose. I'm going to collect the pieces of my brain strewn all over the room and get ready to head for John's.

Have a great weekend, y'all.

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

In 45 minutes...

... it will be September 15. I suppose I could be a perfectionist and wait until midnight, but I'm fading rapidly this evening. If I don't do it now, it will have to wait until (late) tomorrow morning.

So just pretend it's already the 15th, will ya?


We met last year right after your birthday, so I didn't get to wish you a happy one then. I am definitely making up for that now.

Thank you for being my top, my friend, and the special person you are. I hope it's a wonderful day -- and year -- for you!

Everyone wish NG a good one! :-D

Mystery solved

Several of you told me that you saw no issues with the Kindle version of my book, so I was perplexed about the one reviewer who mentioned formatting problems. I Googled her, found her blog and email and wrote to her, thanking her for the great review and asking if she would please specify what the issues were, so I could try to fix them.

Here's what she wrote back:

"After I got your email I went and downloaded the copy again...I have found that sometimes that is all it takes and the glitches went away. Before I did so, there were several blank pages and the margins were off in places. But the new download looks great!!

I went back and fixed the review because of it. I really enjoyed your book. I know how exciting it is to have all your hard work finally being read by people. I wish you the best of luck!!! I know this might sound odd...but after reading your book, I feel I know you. :) You have a really strong voice." 

How lovely!

I now have six reviews on Amazon. Please, please, if you like the book, keep 'em coming! :-)

And thank you to Our Bottoms Burn for their kind shout-out.

In other news, I'll be shooting for Spanking Court again on October 1. I'm really looking forward to this. Not just for the shoot itself (we left things on quite the cliffhanger last time), but I can't wait to see everyone again.

And in reality news, I have an appointment with John's oral surgeon next week to get a second opinion about my oral surgery. Ugh... it's scheduled for October 14 and I am so dreading it. John is insisting on the second opinion and I think he's right -- I want an objective party to tell me if this surgery is really as necessary as my dentist is making it sound.

Happy Hump Day...

Monday, September 12, 2011

I never learn

And aren't y'all glad for that? :-D  Of course, New Guy keeps trying to teach me. Week after week after week. One might think he actually enjoys the frustration of attempting the impossible.

Despite the fact that I was partying away in Vegas last weekend and was drop-dead exhausted on Monday, I still missed him come Monday night. It didn't feel the same. So I really looked forward to seeing him this evening. Right on time, he showed up, bearing his toy bag... and something else. A surprise.


What's even better than flowers? Flowers for no reason! I asked what the occasion was, and he just shrugged and smiled. Perhaps it was because we met just about a year ago. Or maybe it's 'cause he missed me as much as I missed him. :-) Such a sweetie he is.

Of course, then the flower-bearing Dr. Jekyll morphed into the implement-wielding Dr. Hyde in a New York heartbeat...

He thought it was inappropriate for me to blog all about my Shadow Lane adventures in Las Vegas. "I thought what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas."

"Well, yeah, but..."

"But nothing -- you broke the Vegas rule!"

I tried to protest that I have a responsibility to my readers to give them details of these events. "And I have a responsibility to keep you in line," he answered.

Oh, brother. Can you tell what I thought of that by the look on my face?

When he got into the full swings with the big black strap, he commented about his femdom friend and how she puts her full arm into it with follow-through, just like this. "This is her technique?" I asked. "Yup," he said.

"So," I said, "does that mean you spank like a girl?"

Probably not the best thing to say. I don't know what possesses me sometimes. (could it be.... Satan????)

Later when I was back OTK and all those damned implements were lying close by, he said something about how he hates having to do this. (Yeah, tell me another one.) I said, "Really? Well, if you hate it so much, then you won't be needing these." And I reached over and shoved all the implements off the bed onto the floor.

That probably wasn't a good idea either.

Guess what my grand finale was? Twenty strikes with each implement. All six of them. Ow. I suppose I asked for that, huh...

You know, I believe I'm going to have more soreness tomorrow from one session with NG, than I did last week after 12 scenes.

Wouldn't have it any other way.

Sunday, September 11, 2011

My head is exploding!

In a good way. I came home from John's this evening to some lovely surprises.

First, the video that Richard Windsor and I shot is finally up on Spanking Tube. For whatever reason, he had to upload the thing three times before ST put it up! It was worth the wait; he did a great editing job and I'm so pleased with the results. Check it out:

In case you're wondering about that Ultra-Popular Top business, it's kind of an inside joke. The Ultra-Popular Top, or the UPT, is an affectionate nickname that several of us have for Rich on FetLife, so we had a bit of tongue-in-cheek fun with it in the video. Considering how many women have been over his lap, I'd say the appellation is fitting, no?

Oh, and that snit he's referring to, and my comment about "stupid people on FetLife"? I was in a pissy mood one day, about a week before the party, because two men (I don't know either one of them) had posted two separate comments on Fet that irked me. On one thread, several of us were talking about how much fun it is to be "double-teamed" by two spankers, and one man chimed in with, "It's not supposed to be fun." Then, on another thread, someone else posted that pre-spanking negotiations were unnecessary because "a spankee has no real right to say anything about what their punishment should be." Excuse me??

So, those "stupid people" were two strangers. Not anyone I know (or want to).

Next, I discovered that Lea had posted a wonderful review of my book, and that Cranky Spanker had written not one, but two blog posts about me. And finally, the reviews on are now up to five -- thank you, friends! You guys are all so dear and I appreciate you more than I can say.

One question for the Kindle viewers. I know I had issues with the formatting when I converted the Word file to the Kindle file. One friend told me she didn't see anything weird or glitchy when she read her copy, but someone on Amazon said there were formatting issues. So... did any of you who have ordered the Kindle version see anything off? If so, could you let me know where it is? I know I can edit it, but it's a matter of figuring out how. Thanks. (Personally, I wish everyone would order a paperback version because of that most excellent cover, but I know I'm behind the times.)

It was a quiet weekend, which was just fine after all the excitement last weekend. We watched a lot of 9/11 remembrance programming, which was sad. Dateline had an hour dedicated to the Flight 93 heroes who stormed the cockpit and prevented the terrorists from crashing the Capitol building. Hearing the wives of some of those men speak made me cry. I don't like endless morbid rehashing of horrible events as a rule (John watches WWII footage over and over on the History channel, which annoys me to no end), but I do agree that life changed on 9/11, ten years ago. :-(

Anyway... enough of that. Tomorrow, I get to see NG again. Life is good.

Friday, September 9, 2011

Friday Hodgepodge

Can't believe it's Friday already. This week slipped by in a haze of party afterbuzz.

First... people have been asking about the video that Richard and I shot. There is something going on with Spanking Tube -- Rich told me that he has uploaded the video twice, and it still hasn't shown up. He is going to contact them after his work day and try to find out what the problem is. I have every confidence that it will be up soon.

Next... my book has been reviewed on the blogs of Zelle, Bonnie and Dana Kane, and now that latest is Cassandra Park. Thank you, Sandy! You and I go back several years and I appreciate your kind words greatly.

I thought I would address one of her comments here, since it's quite a legitimate question and deserves an answer.

...since she has written that her dad was a well-known Hollywood comedy writer, and that there were actors and other famous writers at his parties and in her life, I was hoping for a little more about the issues of maintaining anonymity in the face of these associations.

You know, it's never been an issue, and for a simple reason: These associations are long gone. My father passed away in 1998; Erica Scott didn't come to be until 2000. Sadly, over the years, most of my father's peers in the industry have died. I am quite removed from the Hollywood crowd and have been for years.

In my book, I mention a writer/producer cousin, one who was once partnered with my father many years ago and who had helped me a great deal when I was young. He is still with us, but he is in his late 80s and has several children and grandchildren... a second cousin is not on his radar. I haven't seen him in years. So I don't worry about him either.

Who knows... maybe someday, someone from my old life will discover me. If that happens, I'll deal with it. But I'm not afraid of it.

Next up, a couple more photos from the Shadow Lane party. Here is the aforementioned shot of Sarah Gregory, Clare Fonda and me from the Friday vendor fair:

Rich was kind enough to take a nice picture of John and me with Mir and S, but unfortunately, I cannot show them. But I wanted y'all to see how handsome John looked in his suit anyway. :-)

Also, I'd neglected to mention this earlier, but another couple I met at Shadow Lane were Kaelah and Ludwig, from the Rohrstockpalast blog. This was their first SL party and they'd traveled all the way from Germany. They were lovely! Soft-spoken and sweet, and both very attractive. I think I amused Kaelah, because I kept looking at them and exclaiming, "You two are so CUTE!"

Finally, back on the subject of my book, I have a huge favor to ask. For those of you who read it and like it, will you do something for me? Drop over to the Amazon page and give it a rating and a review. It doesn't have to be lengthy; even a few words will suffice. So far, two friends have given it five stars and a lovely writeup (thank you!!), and I'm hoping others will follow suit. The blog reviews have been wonderful, and having the positive words on Amazon, where the mass public will see them, will be so helpful. Thanks!

John and I have no plans this weekend, and I'm not complaining. I think my post-party drop is physical this year, rather than emotional... I am so damned tired. All I want to do is sleep, and when I'm awake, I feel sluggish. Perhaps that's due in part to the heat as well. I was telling a friend that it was a shock to come home on Monday and discover that So. CA was actually hotter than Vegas had been! Blech! Yesterday, there was a massive power outage that affected Orange County, San Diego and other parts of So. CA, all the way into Mexico and Arizona as well. About five million people, on one of the hottest days of the year!! But Los Angeles County was not affected. Feel like I dodged another bullet.

Have a great weekend, y'all. :-)

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Shadow Lane 2011, Finale

Another quickie party moment I forgot from Friday. When John and I got off the elevator on our floor, we saw Naughty Freckles sitting in one of the lounge chairs, knitting. Knitting?? At a spanking party? We greeted her and I asked what she was doing. She explained that her roommate was doing a session, so she was having a bit of decompression time, catching up with her knitting.

As we started to walk away, John looked back at her and asked, "So, what are you knitting for us?" That's my man... everything is about him! Before I could think about it, I pulled him toward our room and said, "Come on, honey. Maybe if you're nice to her, she'll knit you a cockwarmer. But she'll need a ton more yarn."

I could hear NF cracking up as we rounded the corner. John pretended to be mortified, but I know better. I don't know what gets into me sometimes. Chalk it up to party feistiness.

Later in the ballroom, NF sidled up to me and quipped, "So, what color does he want?" ROFL!

On Sunday after showering and dressing, John and I wandered down to Cafe Siena once again, figuring we'd run into someone or another while there. We got into the line outside the restaurant; in front of us was an older couple (70s-ish, very all-American grandma/grandpa type), and ahead of them were Dr. L and Ten. We greeted them and chatted a bit back and forth, around the older couple, very carefully avoiding the "s" word. However, the conversation was still a bit suspect, as DL mentioned how late they'd partied and how he still had a ton of beer left, so we had to drink up tonight! Then he grinned and held out his palm, showing me a dark spot in the center. "Did I do that?" I asked, knowing full well I did. Finally, the man in the couple asked John and me if we wanted to go ahead of them, and DL generously said, "No, how about you guys go ahead of us?" They demurred at first, then smiled and moved forward. As they passed, the man turned back to us and said, "I want that room number!" :-D

We had a fun lunch, yakking away with DL and Ten, getting to know them a bit better. Two hours slipped by easily with many laughs. John insisted on picking up the check, which I'd had a feeling he'd do. DL tried to offer up some tip money, but John waved it aside. "Are you kidding, man? After all you've done for us this weekend? Put it away."

The afternoon was low-key; we slept through a lot of it, since we didn't have any 411 on where the afternoon suite parties might be and none of our pals seemed to be around. After we woke up and started thinking about what we might do for dinner, I realized we hadn't seen Craig since Friday night. So I texted him, asking what he was up to. He texted back that they were going to dinner at PF Chang's at 7:00; I asked if we could join them and he said yes, but be forewarned, we're walking there and it's very hot out.

Back on the subject of John pestering me when I'm trying to get ready, he insisted on taking this picture of me when I was putting on makeup. I have no idea why.

After meeting Craig, Lizzie and Beth by the elevators, we headed off to PF Chang's. Craig had said it was about a 1/4 mile... uh, would you believe it was more like a mile? In the desert heat? On a slight incline? Oyyyy. Funny... men usually overestimate length, not underestimate it. ;-)  Anyway... I was grateful for the bottle of water I was carrying. By the time we got there, the last of it was warm.

That was so much fun! I got a chance to catch up a bit with Craig, we all had fun doing party dish, and Brad joined us shortly after we got there -- always great to see dear Brad! The food was delicious; I had steamed salmon with miso-ginger sauce on a bed of vegetables.

Thank goodness, Brad had his car! Craig and Lizzie opted to walk back, so John, Beth and I followed Brad out to the lot. As he walked ahead of us, he passed by a parked car and its lights flickered. Assuming that was Brad's car that he had just remotely unlocked, I walked to the rear door and put my hand on the handle... then I caught Brad's eye. "Uh, Erica," he called out, pointing ahead. "My car is over there." I dropped my hand and looked around, just in time to see the owners of this car approaching, giving me very quizzical looks.

Oh my GOD. I was so embarrassed! "Oh, I'm so sorry!" I babbled to them. "I'm not trying to break into your car, honest! I thought it was his!" The woman laughed. The man looked at me like he thought I was an ass. My face flaming, I dashed away from their car and headed to Brad's.

Did my three car-mates get a good laugh at me on the way back to the hotel? You betcha. I am such a dork sometimes!

Next stop, DL's suite once again, around 11:00 -- this time for karaoke! People started pouring in and once everything got hooked up, the singing started, with Kyle acting as DJ (he did a great job, too!).

No, I didn't sing. I know better. But we had some lovely surprises. I knew Sarah could sing well, and she did a couple of numbers beautifully. However, I had no idea DL had the most incredible voice! He opened the show singing "My Way," and we were all mesmerized. Kyle sang a few numbers too, also displaying an impressive voice.

All weekend, I kept bumping into Fineous (our Flogger Extraordinaire) and he said we absolutely had to play, that it wouldn't be a complete weekend without our scening (I felt the same way). So here it was late Sunday night and I kept hoping he'd show up, but I didn't see him. I was starting to resign myself that it wouldn't happen this time. Then, Jersey John came over to me. "Fineous is looking for you!" he said. "Where IS he?" I blurted. "He's in 560!" "Ohhhh... please tell him to come here!" And he did. Thank you, JJ.

Within minutes, there was Fineous coming in the door, and we went off to one of the bedrooms, where I stripped down to just panties and lay on my stomach on the bed, waiting for him to work his magic with his two floggers. Yummmmmmm.

Afterward, when I was flogged into oblivion, he finished with a nice massage. Sadly, I had to get up and dress... I could have drifted off to sleep right there. But it wasn't my bed, after all.

Back in the main room, the karaoke wound down and the playing kicked back in. I did a fun scene with Alex (aka IMLX). For reasons completely unknown to me, people surrounding us kept throwing me under the bus, telling Alex I'd said bad things about him, and -- even worse -- had cast aspersions upon his mother. I was totally innocent of all these accusations, but of course, no one listened to me. (sigh) Alex is a sweetie and he made me laugh, a lot.

Shortly after Alex, I found myself right back in the same position, same spot on the bed, this time with Tubaman Paul. Poor guy didn't get to play full bore with Sarah or Kat, since they were both shooting with SL the next day and had to be unmarked... so he had a lot of excess energy. Lucky me! So it was much to my chagrin that when I was just getting into it, he started to pull my skirt back down.

"That's IT??" I blurted, and an "oooooooooohhhh!" rippled through the people watching. Paul yanked me up and plunked me onto the bed, then dashed out the room, returning post-haste with a leather paddle in his hand. Back I went. As I often say, me and my big mouth!

Damn, that was fun. :-)

My final scene of the weekend was with Jersey John. In his effort to prove how ambidextrous he is, he kept picking me up, flipping me around in midair and then plunking me back down facing the opposite way. He did this three times and I felt like I was on a carnival ride. I swear, that man is strong as a bull! We have seen him at parties for years and years, and it's always a joy to see his beaming face. He says I never change. I wish that were true, but it's nice to hear!

It was 3:30 when we finally said our goodbyes, hugs all around and went back to our room. Because we were both still keyed up, we decided to do most of our packing then, so we got to bed a little after 4:00. I was so dead to the world at 7:30, John said he'd had to call my name, shake me, then kiss my ear to get me to wake up. He was ready to check to see if I was still breathing. Ugh! Just barely!

We finished packing and John took everything down to the car (he wouldn't let me help), checked out and then went to the bagel place to get a quick breakfast before hitting the road. The last person we saw was Richard Windsor -- perfect sendoff! :-)

The ride was smooth, no major tie-ups. We'd started at 9:00, so I guess we beat all the traffic coming home from the holiday weekend. I shuddered when we drove past the fire area -- everything was blackened. So, so scary, and how close we came to being stuck in that.

So... another SL weekend. I played 12 times, but had no marks and aside from a slightly squirmy ride home, no residual soreness. I marked one hand. I sold all the books I'd brought. I made new friends and enjoyed seeing old ones. I shot a fun little video. Overall, despite the emotional peaks and valleys, I'd say it was a damn good weekend.

Thank you, Tony, Eve and Butch. Thank you, Dr. L and Ten; Tom; Jules, Mike and Miranda; and anyone else I'm forgetting, for opening your suites to us. Thank you, Spanking Scene, for bringing me joy like I've never known, again and again. :-)

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Shadow Lane 2011, Part 4

Aside from returning the rental car, I haven't done a damn thing today but edit photos, answer email and write blogs, FetLife posts and comments. Welcome to Day After Party syndrome; you're fairly worthless, but it's fun.

Before I continue with Saturday night, I forgot this little tidbit from Friday night. In both Jeff's and Dr. L's rooms, along with the beer and wine, there was this unusual find:

That's right, Kinky Liqueur. It is vodka with several fruit juices, and although it's hard to tell in this picture, it is bright orange, like a ripe cantaloupe.

I was sitting and yakking with Sarah, and she said we had to try that liqueur. We got the bottle and she poured some into a cup, tasting it, then handing it to me. Gaaaaaaaaaaaaa.... sweet! Very sweet. But with a hefty kick to it. She decided to make a mixed drink of it, adding ice cubes and Diet Coke. I know, to some of you it may sound gross, but I kinda liked it, so she made one for me. Yes, Erica had a drink. Just enough to get a quick, giggly buzz. How can you be at a kink party and not drink Kinky Liqueur? :-)

Back to Saturday -- Djinn and I went back to Dr. L's room, which was packed. In one of the rooms, the guys were having sort of a Mad Men gathering, smoking cigars. OK, I have to admit, I hate the smell of cigars. But I was in such a mellow mood at that point, I barely noticed them.

I approached Michael, the newcomer I'd mentioned in part 1, and we started talking. He was leaning in the doorway of the smoking room, but he wrapped his hand holding the cigar around the back of the doorjamb so that I didn't notice it. He told me about what an amazing time he was having so far, and I told him about all the different types of party scenes, including the one I'd just had. I said that they can't all be that special a connection, but it's OK, because sometimes, fun is just that -- fun -- and it's lovely to play just for playing's sake at these gatherings sometimes.

As we talked, I could feel the pre-spanking tension build... we were going to play, I knew it. But he took his time. Said he wanted me to savor the feelings from my scene with Djinn for a while, that he didn't want to tromp all over that. I liked that. So we kept talking, until he suggested we go into the other room. It was time.

Wow. What a great scene we had! Just a hand spanking (I experienced very few implements this weekend), but we connected well. He looked down at me a lot, leaned down and spoke to me, and I was able to tune out the noise in the room, even though things were rather raucous at that point. He was in a suit, and as things escalated, he stopped for a minute to shrug off his jacket and roll up his sleeves. Getting serious here! :-) He laid his jacket neatly next to me. "Don't touch my jacket," he warned.

Of course, I touched it. Repeatedly. I made a show of poking it with my finger. He reacted appropriately.

"I said, don't touch my jacket!"

I poked it some more.

"Are you still touching my jacket??" Yup.

"You do realize," I laughed, "that your telling me not to touch your jacket just ensures that I'm going to touch it, right?" Then the light bulb went off. I knew how to kick this up a notch.

"Hey," I added. "If your jacket is out of reach, I can't touch it." Then I grabbed the jacket and threw it on the floor.

Ohhhhhhh, my. He got out from under me, got onto the bed on his knees next to me and hunkered down, putting his full arm into it. I thought I heard someone off to the side say, "Wowwww...." but I'm not sure. He was really letting me have it. And of course, I loved it.

When we were done, it took a long time for me to get up, and he didn't rush me. He laid next to me, put his arm across me, stroked my hair, my back and neck, let me come down. Eventually, all the noise finally got to be a bit much and I sat up, reluctantly. We hugged and he retrieved my glasses from the nightstand, even thoughtfully stopping to clean them with his tie before handing them back. Lovely!

I went back into the main room and found John on the couch, so I sat next to him, sprawled against him and stretched my legs out, propping my feet on the arm of the other couch. And there I sat quietly for a while, smiling. Michael came out, saw me and wandered over. Leaning down, he whispered, "As great as that scene was, I think I like this even more -- knowing I put that smile on your face."

A while later, I saw Dr. L and I just had to approach him and express my gratitude to him, for these awesome room parties. If it hadn't been for him and for Tom in 960, I don't know where we all would have gone, honestly. He was sweet, said he loved doing it -- then asked if I'd like to play. Absolutely!

Holy moly. It wasn't a long scene, but it was freaking amazing. Can I just tell you that Dr. L's hand is a force to be reckoned with? I do believe that if we did a lengthy scene, he'd join the short list of men who can make me say "mercy" with just their hand. No lie. He picked up the pace and strength and by the end, he had me hollering. In a good way.

After he wound down (and after I could speak again), the first thing I did was turn my head, look up at him and breathe, "Damn! How is it I've never played with you before??" I think he liked that.

And then I was done playing for the night. I knew I'd had three incredible scenes and I didn't want to push it, trying for more. There was still another day. So, after some odds and ends of chatting with others (which has become a blur), John took me back to our room and poured me into bed. I forget what time it was. Late. Maybe 2:30?

Yeah, I know. That's early for the all-nighters. What can I say, I need sleep. :-)

More to come!

Shadow Lane 2011, Part 3 (this one's kinda long)

You guys know me well enough by now to know I share the downsides as well as the upsides of these gatherings, and the parts of myself I'm not overly proud of when they emerge. Emotions run high during these weekends and sometimes, it's like being on a roller coaster. I know I'm not the only one who feels this way, but I still wish sometimes it didn't happen. However, this time, I was in the best of hands when Meltdown 2011 occurred.

It's no secret that, despite all the work I've done on myself over the years, I still have a persistent insecurity streak that will probably never be completely eradicated. And without going into too much detail, there are certain types of people who push every insecurity button I have. One such person was at this party; someone I have seen before and was hoping I wouldn't see again. And I gave her way too damn much power. Which pisses me off, because I'm sure she was completely unaware of MY existence.

Anyway... Saturday night, back in Dr L's suite, I was hanging around in the kitchenette with Sophie and Djinn. I'd played little so far, I was feeling a bit unsure of myself, and this person was very much there, so I got a bit snarky. OK, more than a bit. Not proud of that, folks. Sophie and others had laughed at my pithy comments, but Djinn did not -- he just gave me searching looks and knowing smiles, which unnerved me a little. He then said, "If I take you off and spank you, who's going to watch over Sophie?" (He was very protective of her and didn't want her to be deluged, which she would be the minute he left.) I said, "John will!", so Djinn recruited John, and off we went.

I was happy about playing with him, as he's a great spanker and reads me amazingly well, considering we've only played once before, but I was uncomfortable too. I was beginning to feel a bit ashamed of my bitchiness, and felt absolutely mortified when he revealed that the person in question was a friend of his. Ugh!

"You must think I'm a catty bitch," I moaned, wanting to shrivel up and disappear. He assured me that he most certainly did not, but I still felt awful. As we went into my room and he pulled a chair out, I kept babbling. "I'm really not the kind of woman who tears down other women, I hate women like that, I don't usually do this, it's just that blah blah blah..." He just looked at me. "You can't let this go, can you," he said, his tone calm. "No... I can't!" I blurted, feeling more foolish by the minute.

"I'm not angry at you, I don't think badly of you and I care about you. I'm going to give you a good spanking because you clearly need one. Do you understand?"


"Yes, what?" I didn't answer at first.

"Erica, you know how to behave. Answer me." Instantly subdued, I murmured, "Yes, sir."

He has a very strong hand and didn't need implements. The spanking went on for a while, I don't know how long, and it varied in intensity. All the while, he spoke to me in the same measured, calm voice, saying kind and soothing words to me, and, much to my ultimate embarrassment, I lost it. I clung to his leg with both arms and wept, tears dripping off my nose onto the carpet. He knew I was crying, because he could hear me sniffle. And he treated my tears with the utmost respect and sweetness. Slowly, I felt the tension ebb out of my limbs, my back, my neck.

"Do you have anything to say to me?" he asked, as things were winding down.

"Thank you," I whispered. "Thank YOU," he answered. He kept me in position for a while. I still felt a little embarrassed and I was in no hurry to get back up and face him, but I definitely felt much better. "I don't know what gets into me," I mumbled. "These parties mess with my head sometimes."

"Me too," he said. "Really? You're not just saying that?" "No, I'm not."

Such complex creatures we are.

Finally I got up and we hugged. He stayed with me while I fixed my face, made sure I was OK before we went back to the party. I felt restored and calm, all the tension and nattering in my head gone.

Thank you, Djinn.

I think I will end Part 3 here.

Shadow Lane 2011, Part 2

Saturday morning, as per usual, I slept in while John headed to the gym. He dragged me out of bed and we showered, dressed and went down to Cafe Siena for lunch. I love that place! They have great breakfast stuff and they're so accommodating of us all, our big groups and ever-expanding tables.

This time, we were joined by Mir and S, and Mija and Pablo, and had a nice meal with lively discussion and lots of laughs. Later in the afternoon, we went to the Strictly Spanking New York suite party, which was crammed wall to wall with people. They were showing a series of their film shorts and we caught the last few -- hilarious! I so want to go to their Boardwalk Badness party next April. I did a couple of quickie scenes there, including with Mir's S, which was great fun. When the party wound down, John and I went back to our room to relax a bit before preparing for the evening's activities.

You know, it's laughable how jittery I am while getting ready, after all these years. Thank goodness for John... My dress tied at both shoulders, and I had to recruit him to tie each side in a neat bow. And of course, he hooked my garters, since with my shaky hands it would have taken all evening. However, he does like to torment me while I try to do my hair and makeup -- stands next to me and preens/makes faces in the mirror. I finally had to say, "Honey, I see you. Yes, you look great. I love you. Now will you please get the hell out of here!" LOL

The ballroom buffet/dance was a blast! Everyone looked smashing, as usual -- lots of suits on the men and beautiful dresses on the women. Got a few pictures -- Here I am with the incomparable Sarah Gregory. How about her dress, huh? Wooo hooooo!

With "Tubaman" Paul -- we shared a dance, too:

And here I am with Richard Windsor -- the much slimmer version!

I danced a little, but mostly I watched, and chatted with others all around the room until it was time to head for suite parties once again. The buffet was delicious, as always, but who can eat that much?

Before heading to Dr. Lectr's, I went to Rich's room so we could shoot a fun little video promo for my book. He'd come up with a very cool concept (I won't spoil it; you'll just have to see it when he puts it up on SpankingTube), and it didn't take too long. In fact, I spent more time chatting with him then I did shooting. Can't wait to see the finished product. Thank you, Rich!

You know what? I think I will finish up Saturday night in Part 3. I had two very special and intense scenes and I don't want to just tack them onto the end of this; they deserve their own portion.

Monday, September 5, 2011

Shadow Lane 2011, Part 1

Another Shadow Lane weekend is a memory. As usual, I'm struggling a bit to gather my thoughts and put them in order, but I know I want to get it all down before I forget details. As it is, I'll probably forget some anyway; so much happens in so little time.

Remember when I wrote on Friday morning that I thought being Chrossed was a good omen? I do believe I was right. John and I normally hit the road for Vegas around 10; for whatever reason, this year we decided to leave a little earlier, so we were on our way by 9:15. The ride was smooth and clear, and even with a stop at Enterprise to add John's name to the rental car agreement and one bathroom/snack stop in Baker, we made it to the Suncoast by 2:00. After we arrived, we found out we'd dodged a major bullet. Around 12:30, a fire had erupted on the I-15 and shut down the freeway, snarling traffic for hours and burning over 1,000 acres. The specific area on the highway was the Cajon Pass... which we'd driven past it about an hour before the fire started. If we hadn't left earlier than usual, we may very well have been stuck in the thick of it. And I would have had the meltdown to end all meltdowns.

We got checked in and unpacked and tried to nap, but I was too wound up to sleep. I'd brought my carton of 15 books, plus the 4 that had the cover imperfection (I was selling those for $7 instead of $10). We changed clothes and headed down to the ballroom for the vendor fair; once there, it was the usual whirlwind of hugs and greetings. I found Kitty's table and set up my books in stacks on the area of the table she'd cleared for me. I really didn't know what to expect. At first things were a little slow, but then Bob the DJ, Kitty's hubby, announced the book over the loudspeaker and directed people to our table.

People came over in droves, and the books sold out. Even the "defective cover" ones. And nearly everyone asked me to autograph their copy. I was over the moon. :-)

I was then able to get up and mingle, go to all the other vendor tables, get tons of hugs. I love that part of SL, the greetings! Seeing friends I haven't seen in a year, or at least a good long while. I went to Sarah Gregory's table; she was dressed up like a cheerleader and when she saw me, she shrieked. We jumped up and down like little kids and hugged each other so hard, we nearly fell over. Kyle Johnson took a cute picture of Sarah, me and Clare Fonda; she put it up on her FetLife page.

So many names, so many dear faces. I was happy to hug adorable Sophie to pieces, and to see Djinn from Vancouver again. Our SLBFF Mir was there -- it wouldn't be a party without her! -- and we got to meet her squeeze S. Got to see Craig, always wonderful, and I finally got to meet Beth, his Lair play partner. What a cutie! There were a lot of new faces and I met several of them. And of course, many friends who couldn't make it were missed. (sigh)  But it was to be expected, given the economy.

Soon, it was room party time. Here is where I'm going to give huge kudos to a gentleman who goes by the name of Dr. Lectr on Fet -- he had booked a suite, and he decided to open his room to all of us for suite parties. Which nights? ALL of them... he had a party Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday, each one a different theme. He had music, decorations, tons of food and drink, and he was such a gracious host. I told him he really made this party for many of us this time, and I meant it. He was rooming with Ten Amorette -- gawd, that girl is too cute! On Friday night, the theme was Hawaiian, and they had piles of leis on the table. Ten was greeting everyone who came in, wearing her hula skirt and a big flower in her hair, and asking us all if we wanted to "get lei'd."

And as always, party veteran Tom opened his suite to us as well. So both 1031 and 960 were hopping. And I was itching to play. Who would be my first scene of the weekend?

Backtrack a bit -- three years ago, I had a missed connection with a man named Jeff from FL; he'd come to his very first party and he had a suite, which he opened up to us. I really wanted to play with him and although we'd chatted a bit, we hadn't quite connected enough to get to the "Wanna play?" stage. So late on Saturday night, I screwed up all my courage and flat-out told him I'd love to play with him the next day, if he was going to be around. He said yes, and he'd love to. But... as often happens at SL, we missed each other. Sundays tend to be very unstructured and it's easy to lose track of people. I was bummed, but oh well.

Aaaand... there he was, at this party. :-)  OK, Erica. Make it happen, dammit.

In DL's room, I noticed a container of spanko fortune cookies, the same ones the Spanking Court folks sell. Selecting one, I opened it and read my fortune: "75, Bottom's Choice." That meant implement, of course, but I decided to use it for something else. Seeing Jeff across the room (and standing by himself!), I walked right up to him, held up the slip of paper and said, "I just got this fortune that says I have 'bottom's choice.' Can I choose you?"

He grinned and said yes, thank goodness. (damn... being the asker sucks. It's nerve-wracking. How do guys do it all the time??)

So we went to his room and had a fun little scene with his hand, a paddle and his belt. Nice way to break in the weekend!

Back in DL's suite, I was chatting with a man named Michael, who was just "coming out" in the scene and this was his first party. He and I had had some correspondence via email (he referred to me as his mentor), but this was the first time we were meeting in person. He was having a blast so far, meeting lots of people, and it was fun to see his excitement. I think he gave me way too much credit, saying how much I'd helped him, but it was nice to hear. As we talked, Craig came over and said hello, and I introduced him to Michael. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to interrupt," Craig said. Michael assured him no, not a problem, no interruption. "Well, in that case, would you mind if I take her away and spank her?" "Not at all, have fun!" Ah, I love spanking parties.

So Craig and I had a great OTK scene in one of the suite's bedrooms, with lots of people watching and much enthusiasm around us. I couldn't stop giggling... it was fun to be playing with him again. I'd forgotten how powerful his hand is! He was so sweet earlier at the vendor table, telling me twice how proud he was of me about the book. Always nice to hear those words.

The rest of the evening is a blur of talking and laughing -- I didn't have any more scenes on Friday night. Overall, this was a relatively low-key weekend for me, play-wise. Some parties are like that. Still, I ended the evening by losing my voice -- always a sign of a good first night!

Part 2 to come tomorrow (and pictures too). In the meantime, before I forget -- thank you thank you THANK YOU to both Bonnie and Dana Kane, who each wrote wonderful reviews of my book on their respective blogs over the weekend. I really do have some amazing friends. :-)