Shadow Lane, here we come!

Tomorrow morning, that is. Today, there is still much to do. In the middle of doing laundry, getting my hair cut in an hour. Picking up the rental car this afternoon. And packing. So much packing.

Always a challenge for these events. You'd think I was going away for three weeks instead of three days. But you know, outfits are important. Not to mention panties. Lots and lots and lots of panties.

I have many. This is one drawer of two, and it's missing several pairs that in the wash right now. Sometimes, I think I should just dump the drawers into my suitcase and be done with it.

But that would be silly. Right? Of course... (sigh)

So I will pick and choose. And of course, then there are the remaining lingerie items, the dresses, the skirts, the shorts, the tops, the PJs, the shoes, the makeup, the hair products, the... oh, hell. The women know what I'm talking about. The men are rolling their eyes.

I never quite relax until we arrive at the Suncoast. The ride to Vegas has much potential for disaster, since the I-15 route going there is rated one of the top 10 most dangerous highways in the U.S. You can imagine how comforted I was when I saw that on TV last week! But so far, we've made it every time. That little voice that keeps saying "Maybe this will be the time that we won't" seriously needs to #$%& off.

I had mentioned this on FetLife a week or so ago -- while I always look forward to the play, I find that this time, I'm looking forward far more to simply seeing all our friends, to the hugs, to the laughs, to the closeness and camaraderie. Loners don't get much of that. Can't wait to see all the dear familiar faces, plus will be meeting a bunch of new ones too. I do hope people will forgive me if I'm frazzled. I'll settle down after a day or so; I just get so overwhelmed with all there is to do in so little time.

Plus, I have reasons to be extra excited this time. I didn't mention this until now, because I was so afraid I'd jinx it somehow. But I am doing not one, but two shoots during this party weekend.

The first one will be a fun quickie clip with BratKaye of Amateur Spankings. We met her at the "50 Freaks" party last February and she is an absolute hoot, and she asked if we could shoot a little something together. The spanker will be the gentleman who runs the site (don't know if I can use his name, so I won't). We'll do this on Saturday late morning, before lunch.

The second one -- are you ready? Drum roll, please. On Sunday afternoon, John and I will be heading to the home of the one and only Dana Kane, where I'll be shooting a scene with her partner, the handsome gentleman formerly known as the Court Disciplinarian for Spanking Court. To my knowledge, this is the first time Dana has shot any M/F content for her site, so I am truly honored. Plus I am sooo jazzed to see them both again -- it's been nearly two years, and now that SC has gone dark, there's no chance of any reunions in that venue. Oh, and I finally get to meet all her kitties! Dana has a wickedly good idea for a scenario and I think this will be lots of fun. 

But of course, more for Erica to stress about! "Ack! I need to get plenty of sleep so I won't have raccoon eyes on camera!" "Ugh! What if I get marked before the shoots?" "Eeek! What if I'm too sore?" Oh, shut up.

I will simply have to pace myself, and tell people I'm not down for my heaviest play (until Sunday night, when all bets are off). And make sure I get my Zzzzz's.

It's been a crazy, crazy time with John the past few weeks. He bought a second property (a condo) and it's been an insane time of mortgage arrangements, loan approvals, property inspections, dickering with the seller for repairs, shopping for furniture, endless emails and calls with his broker, etc. The heart issue has been put on hold because he has to resolve all his dental issues before any of that can take place. Yesterday, the poor dear had a tooth pulled. I was freaked out, worried that it would make his weekend miserable, but he got two opinions and both said that he'd be OK. It was a particularly bad tooth, which had been crowned and then had a root canal, so there were no nerves left and there wasn't much tooth left either. So fingers crossed that he won't be feeling any discomfort this weekend. He called me last night and said he felt fine. All the papers are signed and all the i's dotted and t's crossed, so we are free and clear to head out of town. (whew)

All right then. I won't be blogging during the party, but I will check in with email and comments and what-have-you often with my phone. I promise I will have the usual report(s) when I come back! Have a happy, safe and fun holiday weekend, y'all.

Indispensable

I wasn't sure how Steve was going to feel about last night's post, but when he arrived today, he told me he liked it. I asked him if he wanted me to remove it, and he said not at all. However, there was one part he didn't like -- hated, really. The part where I said I was dispensable.

We talked for a long time. But then talking time was over.

"Are you ready for me to spank complete awareness and understanding into you that you are not dispensable?" he asked. I shuddered, but said yes.

"I need you to know this. I need to show you."

And he did. Most emphatically. 

After it was over, he held me until the trembling and the tears subsided. I didn't think I'd ever stop crying.

But you know what? I think I've shed my last tear for a while. :-)

Indispensable. I am, dammit. He is, too.

We are.

And that's all she wrote. Here's what he wrote:

Guess I had my pre-Shadow Lane warm-up, huh?

Funny side note: Two weeks ago when Steve came over after his vacation, he walked in and then said, "Oh, damn. I brought you a box of these awesome cookies from Hawaii, but I forgot to bring them." No problem, I said; just bring them next time.

He didn't make it last week, and when he came in today, he sheepishly handed me a small Baggie and said, "I finally remembered to bring you those great cookies from Hawaii... but I ended up eating most of them."

LOL! Look at this -- he left me a whopping four cookies!!

Aren't they cute; they're shaped like little pineapples!

Oh well, it's the thought that counts.

♥ you, my top.

An open letter to those who find me threatening

OK, kids. You know the story. You've heard me lament about it a bazillion times over the years -- losing my beloved tops/spanking partners when they become involved with women who do not accept my existence. It didn't just happen with ST last year; overall, it's happened about half a dozen times. I've always had things I wished I could say to these women, the ones who find me oh-so threatening, but I never had the chance. Now, you may recall I have yet another who wishes I could be banished from my top's life. Or from the planet, for good measure. (read here)

Granted, it seems that Steve isn't going to roll over and allow another to dictate with whom he can or cannot play. However, this is getting tiresome nonetheless. So I thought perhaps it was time to craft a form letter, so every time this happens, I could simply whip it out, change the name and have my say. Here goes my rough draft.

"Dear [insert name here],

I don't need to introduce myself; you already know who I am. [Insert name] and I have been spanking partners for [insert amount of time] now, and he and I share a special friendship and bond. However, I really can't understand why you find my presence in his life to be such a threat. I am not his girlfriend, I am not his lover. I have my own boyfriend of many years whom I love very much. Your resentment of me is quite baseless, for many reasons:

1. I am possibly the least threatening female you will ever meet. I have no desire to take what doesn't belong to me, or to ruin anyone's relationship. I only wish to keep what I have -- my spanking friend and trusted confidante.

2. The odds are that I'm older than you. And, since we've been chosen by the same man (for different reasons), chances are my looks/figure/intelligence/what-have-you are on a par with yours. In other words, I am not some femme fatale out to steal your man.

3. There are females out there who dislike other women and have no regard for their feelings. I am hardly one of those. I love my girlfriends and am very loyal to them, and I have never endeavored to be the type of woman whom other women hate. If you would be friendly with me instead of adversarial, I would be very solicitous of your concerns.

And now, [insert name], here's the part where I'm going to get just a wee bit bitchy, mmmkay? Ready?

You get to see him nearly any day you wish. You are interwoven with his life; you will meet his friends, his family, his kids if he has any. You can go anywhere with him in public, and if you are kinked as well, you can attend scene events with him, as well as all the everyday vanilla events too. You can spend entire weekends with him, go away with him. And last, but certainly not least, you get to have sex with him.

Me? I get to see him for a couple of hours, one day a week. Sometimes not even that often; many things can interfere with our session time, including work, family issues, holidays, illness, etc. He spanks me, soothes me, and then he leaves until the next time. Not much to ask for, really. And yet, you would begrudge me even this, because you can't stand to have him give anything to anyone else but you.

Shame on you. And how sad. Beneath my hurt and bewilderment, I can almost feel sorry for you. Because living with that degree of insecurity has to be pretty damned unpleasant.

But take heart, dear. Not all of the time, mind you, but much of the time, of the two of us, I am the most dispensable. So I offer you this bit of advice; be as charming and pleasant as you can be. Save your true colors for later; don't go all jealous psycho-bitch on him until after I've been dispatched and am out of the picture. That way, he'll probably figure he might as well stick around, since his options have been eliminated. Oh, and make damn sure that your sexual skills are superlative. You're gonna need them. :-)

Sincerely yours,
Erica Scott"

What do y'all think? Chances are, I'll end up deleting this. But it sure felt damn good to write it. :-D

OT: Revisiting an old friend

Who remembers the cartoon character "Ziggy"? The short, bald, pants-less, lovable loser with mournful yet humorous outlooks on life?

Ziggy was around for about 40 years, so he had a lot of mileage in the comic world. Reading him in my most depressed years, I related to him often. Of the hundreds of panels I read, one stands out in my memory. I tried to find it online but could not, so I'll describe it. It was very simple, one of his "observation" cartoons where he's just standing there and talking to the reader. In this one, he was saying:

"Maybe people who need people really aren't the luckiest people in the world."

(For those too young to know the reference, it's a play on an old Barbra Streisand song, with the lyric "People who need people are the luckiest people in the world.")

Today, I am revisiting that sentiment. 

I like to think of myself as a fairly strong person, self-sufficient, independent. I love many, and some love me. Love is a good thing. In my darkest days, I used to believe that I'd be safest if I kept myself reserved and apart from others, because to love was to be wounded. The lyric from Simon & Garfunkel's "I Am A Rock" spoke to me: "If I never loved, I never would have cried."

I accept love in my life now. But what I still can't stand is my neediness.

I don't like needing others. Loving and enjoying people is one thing; life is rather colorless without that, and it feeds my soul in ways I never dreamed imaginable. But as soon as I start to need, then I am in trouble. Then I lay myself bare for hurt, for pain, for insecurity, for loss.

Neediness strips away my armor, my layers of protection, and leaves me tender and vulnerable. Neediness reduces me from a strong woman to a gullible little kid, desperate and hungry and willing to believe anything I hear. I become ridiculously hypersensitive and weepy, craving attention like a spoiled child.

If I need someone, they can let me down and hurt me. If I rely on someone else other than myself, they will let me down. Not because they are bad people, but it's simply human nature. No matter what the songs, the poems and the romance novels say, no human being can always be there for another. Even those who love us most will hurt us sometime. And the haters will smell vulnerability and weakness and swoop in like vultures.

When I get into a needy place, then I'm focused outward. This is lethal for a depressive like me. Because then I am giving others power over my serenity, my happiness and peace of mind. When I'm feeling needy, rather than look to someone else to fill up that gaping hole, I must fill it for myself, from within, from my own strength. As long as I am outwardly focused, I will render myself powerless and vulnerable to disappointment and hurt, which then starts the downward spiral into depression for me. Not good.

Powerless over people, places and things. The only thing I can change is myself, and the way I deal with things. 

For today, I am going to remove the outward focus and the neediness, and bolster myself from within. Today, I will nurture my inner Ziggy and be kind to me. No, I'm not a loser like he was. But there will always be a part of me who relates to that little guy.

New video, and the age-old question

The last of the four clips I shot with Lily Starr and Robert Wolf is out! It's called "The Secret Life of the Kinky Wife"; Robert and I play husband and wife, married for just under a year, and I have kept my spanking fetish a secret from him. One night, he catches me in a lie -- instead of being on a Girls' Night Out, I'm actually meeting with my play partner of 10 years. Robert discovers my stash of spanking toys and magazines, and the videos and photos on my computer, and confronts me when I get home.

I am really proud of this film. Aside from the general plot plus a couple of key lines, Robert and I completely winged it, playing off each other and our combined knowledge of the scene, instinctively covering many of the points that would arise in a situation like this. He is understandably hurt and upset with me, and I'm desperately trying to explain to him that it's not what he thinks, that this is a part of myself that I kept hidden because I was afraid he'd judge and reject me.

And of course, there's plenty of hot spanking too, since he decides to give me a lot more of what I've already gotten that night from my playmate.

There is plenty of discussion throughout, covering salient points such as technique, warm-up and aftercare, and not spanking in anger. As the scene progresses, Robert slowly comes around to understanding, and I realize I've done him an injustice and apologize sincerely.

It's a nice length too -- 20 minutes. To read more, go here.

And so, the question persists: Just what does one do in this type of situation, where one half of a partnership is kinked and the other is not? How do you tell your mate? Do you tell your mate? Granted, our little scenario had a good outcome, but reality isn't always that tidy.

I'm not going to ask the question, "Can you convert a vanilla partner?" I already know my opinion about that, and my answer is no, not really. I believe an open-minded partner can learn to please the kinked one, or at least accept what they do and let them fulfill it elsewhere. But unless someone has the kink themselves, has that wiring, knows that urge and need, I don't believe they'll ever fully understand. They get kudos for trying, for going through the motions, but it won't be the same as playing with another fully wired kinko. Just my opinion; yours may vary.

My question is: Do you know of others who have been in this situation? Have you yourself? What did you choose to do about it? And did it work for you, or the people you know? Everyone has a different story to tell.

Thoughts, please.

Oh, and in case you're wondering, no Steve this week. His son is visiting and he's extremely busy with work and with home issues.

You know, I am very happy my top has a full life. I love that he's a caring father, a responsible worker, etc. -- all things I admire in a man. So is it terrible of me to say that sometimes I wish he had just a teeny bit less of a life? (sigh) I feel so disconnected when I don't get to see him. When we spoke on Friday, he said, "Thank you for being so understanding." Really, what else would I do? Pitch a fit? Demand his time? That would make me a pretty damn sucky play partner, more stress than fun, and I don't want that. So I deal. But I'm still sad. Can't help it.

One day at a time. He'll be back.

Stupid @#$%ing Google/Gmail/YouTube

You know, kids, things really shouldn't have to be so damned complicated.

As y'all know, in the ongoing effort to post videos on here, I signed for a YouTube channel. Because I was trying to keep it as private as possible, I wanted to choose a user name other than Erica Scott, and I certainly didn't want to use my real name. So just for the hell of it, I chose a hybrid of my first and middle name, and called myself Elouise Scott on YouTube.

Guess what. Turns out that YouTube, Google and gmail are all interlinked. So now, my Google profile and my gmail name suddenly became Elouise as well. I didn't even realize it had happened, until a friend emailed me and said, "Who's Elouise?"

I went back and forth, back and forth, between YouTube and Google, trying to figure this mess out and how to change my username. Well, it turns out that I can't. As far as I could figure out after an hour, all I could do was create another gmail address, and relink my blog to that, which I did. Then I tried to figure out how to transfer everything from the old gmail address to the new one, and delete the original. Turns out I can't do that either; it's my primary email address and I'm stuck with it. All I can do is reroute everyone to the new one.

Like I said, it shouldn't be so damned complicated. So, folks, make a note: the email associated with this blog is now ericascottlls@gmail.com. Your comments will automatically be sent there, but if you want to email me directly with anything blog-related, you can use this new address. A lot of you still have my old AOL address, and that's still valid as well. Just forget about erica.scott.blog@gmail.com. It still exists, but I'm trying to phase it out.

And while I'm in a whingy sort of a mood, and speaking of comments... Where the hell is everyone?? I know you're out there. I see my stats. But barely anyone is stopping by to say hello or drop a comment anymore.

I know it's summertime; I know people are busy with stuff and life goes on. But still... I posted a video on FetLife on Tuesday, and so far it's gotten 27 comments and 104 Loves. Posted one here -- barely a whimper. What gives, guys? I miss you.

You're going to have me thinking you don't love me anymore. :-(

Meh. I need Shadow Lane. Big time.

The "P" word

You know the one. P-u-.... No, not that one, for heaven's sake.

The other one. Punish. And all its forms (punishment, punished, etc.). 

Damned if I understand why, but that word gives me goosebumps. We all have our buzz words, and of course for most of us, "spank" is one of them. For a lot of others (myself included), "bottom" is another. Punish is definitely high on my personal buzz list.

Replace "whip" with "belt" and I'm so there:

And while I can't stand action films, I admit my heart skipped a beat when I heard about the movie "The Punisher." Especially after finding out the hero was played by the devastatingly hunky Thomas Jane.

Oh yes, Thomas. Punish me. Please.

What is it about that word? I don't know; just one of those weird wiring things. But because I'm so drawn to it, I tend to remember all kinds of random instances where I heard it. And recalling them gives me the same shivers as they did then.

Some of my readers from way back when may remember my adventures with my aerobics instructor (who later became my personal trainer). Years ago, I was in one of his classes; he had done something or another that was rigorous with a lot of twisting, and my lower back didn't like it. So when we were lying flat and stretching, I surreptitiously reached down and kneaded the sore spot a bit with my fingers. How he saw that in a class packed with about 30 bodies, I don't know, but he called out, "Erica, did those twists tweak your back?" I grimaced and nodded, and then he said:

"Awww, I'm sorry, honey! I didn't mean to hurt you. I just wanted to punish you a little!" 

And this was before he knew anything about my proclivities. I wonder if he saw me blush from hairline to toenail.

Cut to a scene I was in once, with a relatively new play partner. I was still in that insecure stage where I didn't want to say no to too many things, so I pretended to like a particular implement, when in truth I was scared of it. When he pulled it out in the middle of the scene, I involuntarily flinched and went rigid. He saw that, and questioned me about it. I then confessed how I really felt about it.

I heard a *plunk*. "You hear that?" he asked. "It's back in my bag, and you will never see it again." I sighed with relief. "But," he continued, "now I'm going to have to punish you for not being honest with me."

Oh, just scrape me off the walls and the floor...

You know how sometimes it's squirmy and embarrassing to speak our buzz words aloud? I've finally reached the point where it doesn't make me turn fifteen shades of purple to say the word "spank." But the P word still makes me choke a bit. Which is why what happened a couple of weeks ago startled me.

It was after I'd had my little meltdown over the predatory woman on FetLife so clearly competing with me over Steve. He and I had talked it out and I was OK again, but now feeling a bit sheepish over how off the wall I'd gone, and he knew it. So we addressed that during part of our scene. And I heard these words come out of my smart-ass mouth:

"I deserve to be punished for doubting you."

I cannot believe I said that. If someone had told me I would voluntarily utter that phrase, I would have laughed in their face. Someone would have to coerce (read: beat) those words out of me. But I spoke them of my own volition. 

I guess that's true submission, when someone as contrary and controlling as I am can reach that point. And he knew. "You won't do that again, will you," he said. "No, no, I promise." The connection at that moment was pure and whole and so, so tight.

Amazing what the right words can do, with the right people, the right chemistry. When it all comes together.

Any other "P" word lovers out there? Do share.

Now that I've gotten myself all hot and bothered, I need to go... pay some bills. (sigh) Oh, and find a new dentist. Reality sucks sometimes!

"That's Mr. Jackass to You"

Yes, he's back. :-D

So, so happy to see him today, after he was in Hawaii on vacation. We didn't even come close to playing for about an hour-and-a-half; I wanted to hear all about his trip. He and his daughter and their friends did it all -- hiking, snorkeling, surfing, swimming, sight-seeing, nice dinners. He took tons of pictures, but didn't have them organized yet. He wanted to hear about my two weeks as well, but I didn't have anything nearly as exciting to tell.

We've settled into a pattern now -- we start with a long OTK spanking with his hand, take a little break, and then go into the portion with implements and pictures and so forth. The first portion is our private connection; I'm actually rather quiet, except for my moans and sighs and whimpers. When he had a wonderful rhythm going and I was really into it, and he paused, I couldn't even muster the words, "Don't stop, please." Instead, I vigorously wiggled my bottom, and he read my body language perfectly, continuing with the same pace and ramping it up a little. And he even grabbed my hair a bit at one point. Yum. :-)

But then it was time for some reckoning. I'd had the audacity to correct him when he used "she and I" improperly. He used it as the object, not the subject, which means it should have been "her and me." One of my many grammatical peeves. You know, you'd think people would want to speak correctly. Apparently not.

Uh oh... I'm in for it...

I didn't help my case when he was futzing with the blackout shade, trying to raise it to let some light in for the camera. He kept tugging on it and it wouldn't go up, so I said, "It's not rocket science." "Go ahead, keep it up," he grumbling, yanking on it again and finally making it go up. "Yay!" I crowed. "Today, we managed a shade." He glared at me. "Yeah... a shade of RED." 

The video camera misfired a couple of times, but then we were able to get two nice long clips. The first one was more playful, loaded with banter (and my insults) and a lot of vigorous walloping from him. The second one was a little calmer, as I was reaching my limit and was straddling that fine line between feeling pleasure and discomfort. When it was all over, he commanded, "Don't move," and went to get my lotion. Then he gave me a delicious massage -- feet, legs, arms, back. I think I was quite done after that, don't you?

And now, because I can (thank you, YouTube), I'm sharing the first of the two videos. Watch it and you'll understand the title of this blog. :-)

EDIT: Sorry about the video being private before. I had the setting screwed up. It's fixed now!



He stayed for another hour or so, letting me come down. I missed this. I know it was only two weeks, but they felt more like months sometimes. Our sessions feed my soul. For a few hours, I'm transported, and when I come back, I'm refreshed and rejuvenated. He says he is, too.

For those of you on FetLife, I posted the other video there. 

Oh, and it seems that the "butt measles" have become a permanent condition. This is just from his hand!

He said that the markings on my right cheek form an arrow, pointing to you-know-where. I told him to dream on.

Happy, happy me. ♥

A little video experiment

OK, so y'all know I got kicked off of Vimeo. I was forced to make my videos public there, because if I made them private, no one would be allowed to view the link without my permission. Of course, someone must have seen them and complained, and poof.

The lovely Beth suggested that I try YouTube. I assumed that would be impossible, since they're so mainstream, but she told me that they have an option called "Unlisted," wherein it's not public, but anyone can view the link if I embed it. So I am trying that now. 

Just a quickie of Steve and me from the "boot camp" session, when he laid down the first two swats to get the imprints. With a bit of "topping from the bottom" from yours truly. :-)

Hope this will work and solve my video issues! Thanks, Beth. :-)

Come on, caveman...

Spank me, hold me down, fist my hair. Show me your power.

I am in a Mood today. Not sure why; maybe because I am missing my weekly spanking fix with Steve, or because I'm getting excited about Shadow Lane, or because I'm working on something unbearably dull and my mind is wandering. But today, I'm pondering about how, sometimes, I like it just a little rough.

Specifically? I love the hair grab. There's just something so damn raw and primal about it.

I know I've talked about this before, but once again, I need to be clear -- I'm not talking about the hair pull. The kind that really hurts, where the hair feels like it's being yanked out. I still remember one woman from years ago, who had been abused in past relationships, telling me that she wore her hair in a pixie cut because she got tired of "having her hair used as a weapon." That made me shudder. No, I'm not talking about that.

I'm talking about when the man buries his hand in my hair, as if to caress it, and then tightens his fist around it. Just enough to catch my attention. Just enough to sting a little, but not horribly so. A hurts-so-good sting.

And when it's combined with spanking, oh my gawd.

Not sure where this photo is from; I got it off a Google search. But yeah, I like this. A lot.

A spanker who does this commands my attention. Granted, I do not want a stranger doing it. But when it comes from a trusted top, one who normally has a gentle and kind nature, this bit of caveman tactic really stops me in my tracks. 

Keep still and be quiet, Erica. I'm in charge here.

This is an oldie, but every time I look at it, I remember how much I loved playing and working with Steve Fuller. Yet another person I miss! (From Shadow Lane's The Spanking Professor.)

Does this resonate with any of you, readers? Sometimes, it's the toughness during the scene that makes the tenderness afterward so very sweet.

Just a little something dancing through my mind on a Wednesday, while struggling to proofread a manual on research methods. Oh yeah, I can really go concentrate on that now...

A blast from the (recent) past

I look at the various spanking photo blogs on a regular basis, just to keep up with what's circulating out there. Oftentimes I see the same pictures posted and reposted, but sometimes I see something fun and new. As one would expect, I enjoy the photos best when they're of someone I know.

Recently, I've noticed a lot of photos floating around of former spanking starlet Sierra Salem. She wasn't in the scene more than three years or so, but she made quite a splash while she was here, and I had many fun times with her. I miss her, and feel nostalgic when I come across her pictures.

Not sure what company this is from -- Firm Hand, perhaps? -- but that's Ralph Marvell doing the honors. Look at that beautiful girl! You could get lost in her eyes.

When I first met her at a small house party, she had just turned 18, and she was so shy, she could barely look at me. But her curiosity and desire won over her shyness, and soon she broke into the video scene with Shadow Lane's Prep School Punishments (one of my favorites of theirs, BTW). 

Sierra was beautiful and had a lovely, lithe dancer's body -- and she had absolutely no clue about how stunning she looked. She was bright, funny, and very fragile. Compliments made her joyously happy. Mean-spirited comments crushed her.

In 2005, she and I traveled together back East twice (in June, and again in September) to work for Spanking Epics. I got to spend a lot of time with her, as well as shoot with her (and yes, share a bed with her -- queen-sized, you pervs -- in one of the hotels we stayed in). Of all the fun stuff we did, I think I enjoyed our final scene together the most. On Sunday night after three days of shooting, when we were having a bit of a wrap party, she playfully challenged me to a "spank-off." One thing led to another, the cameras and other equipment (which had all been put away) were broken out once again, and we shot the completely impromptu Great American Spank-Off, with Keith Jones and Steve Fuller. 

Here she is, challenging me:

When she was still living here in So. CA, she had a 21st birthday party, sharing it with Samantha Woodley (they have the same birth date; Samantha is two years older). I was lucky enough to attend, and got my absolute favorite picture of the two of us. For whatever reason, that child loved to lie on the floor, on the pavement... Me? Not so much! But I did it for the birthday girl.

Shortly thereafter, she moved away, and left the industry.

People still ask me sometimes what became of her. I can tell you this much -- she is now 27, and she and I are still in touch on Facebook (under her real name). Sometimes I will comment on or "Like" one of her pictures/posts, and she will do the same with me. And if you think she was a pretty young girl, you should see her now. Some of the pictures she posts take my breath away. She should have been a model -- not just for spanking, but mainstream.

She used to call me her big sister (which was damn generous of her, considering I was old enough to be her mother). :-) I miss you, little sis!

In other news, more people to miss -- the good folks of Alpine Sierra Studios (home of Spanking Court, Sternwood Academy and Spanking Ms. Cali). Cali and Heinz have been extremely busy with their primary business and realized they simply didn't have the time to devote to keeping up A.S.S., so reluctantly, they have decided to close it down. The site is still up; I'm not sure when it will disappear.

What a bummer! Back in February, Cali had mentioned to me that Sternwood Academy was considering hiring a "naughty secretary" (yours truly), and I was so looking forward to that, but now it isn't to be. But at least I was fortunate enough to work with Spanking Court in 2011, and I have many very fond memories from there. What a great group of people. And of course, co-starring with the lovely Dana Kane and the Court Disciplinarian was delicious.

Ah well... onward. Shadow Lane in a few weeks; more new memories-to-be for my treasure trove. 

No Steve this week. He's vacationing in Hawaii. I miss him, too... but he'll be back. :-)

Bit of a rant: Predators

No, I'm not talking about child molesters. I'm not talking about people in the scene who troll for vulnerable newbies and try to exploit them.

I'm talking about women in the scene who want what another woman has, and endeavor to take it away. Not share it, but usurp it completely.

I know a lot of my readers won't necessarily relate to this post, because they play with their spouses/mates only and don't have the added complication of other partners. But for those who do, I'm sure something in this will resonate.

I've lost count of how many play partners I've lost over the years, because women came into their lives who didn't want them to have any sort of involvement with me. And every time this happened, it didn't exactly work wonders for my already fragile self-esteem -- I felt completely dispensable. I've had the same experience with John and femdoms. I know he enjoys bottoming, and I certainly can't do that for him, so I'm happy to share him with a woman who can. But it's never enough -- they don't want to share him. They want to take him away from me. One of them nearly succeeded. Nearly. Fortunately, we worked past that, and she's history. I never met her, but if I did, I'd bitch-slap her all the way to the moon. She actually had the nerve to say to John, "I'm so pissed off that you chose Erica over me."

You know what? I'm fucking sick of it. 

What set this off? A woman on FetLife, who met Steve at a play party and then proceeded to launch herself at him, was all over him like white on rice on Fet, so obviously trying to lay claim to him. She certainly didn't make any attempt to befriend me, even though she knew Steve and I are play partners. I don't want to delve into the details, but let's just say it was ridiculously obvious what she wanted.

And last week, I went off the deep end, emotionally. I felt threatened. Not because he played with her; I don't care about that. I don't own him, and he is far too good a top to keep all to myself. It was because I thought I'd lose him to her. She's into way more than I am, kink-wise, and I thought he'd find her more interesting, more stimulating, more everything. And she was so clearly playing that up. The show on FetLife was, I really do believe, for my benefit. And it worked.

But I underestimated Steve. I forgot about his loyalty to our partnership, to me. I forgot that he has told me, time and again, that any woman who enters his life will have to accept my presence in it as well.

(Only one other play partner has said that to me, in all these years, and that was Danny, bless his heart. And I didn't lose him to another woman; I lost him because he had to move away. It wasn't personal.)

We talked it out last Monday; I hadn't acted out on any of my feelings, thank goodness, but had kept them all inside until they swelled like a malignant tumor. I know I was ridiculous, but dammit, this had happened to me too many times. He reassured me, sweetly and firmly. That was when I wept copious tears and welcomed the pain. It delivered me from that miserable insecure place.

Anyway -- some of you ladies out there, and you know who you are -- learn how to share, OK? Learn how to play nice. If this woman had played nice with me, we could be buddies now, giggling about Steve and how he says "there you go" every five seconds. ;-) But no. She had to go the predatory route and enter a competition with me. Well, she chose the wrong man this time. He may play with her, but she can't touch what he has with me. Today, she posted yet another picture of their play, mentioning his name not once, but twice in the caption. ("Look, look, look who I'm playing with!") I just laughed. Knock yourself out, sweet cheeks.

Be forewarned. I'm not going to be a passive, weepy rejectee anymore. You screw with me and this kitty is going to scratch. Me-OWWWWWW.

Have a great weekend, y'all.

Vimeo blows!

As y'all know, I was having trouble directly posting my little videos on here; Blogger kept giving me error messages, and wouldn't explain why. So I attempted to find a host for the videos, from which I could post direct links.

I did Spanking Tube for a while, but they are a hassle. They take forever to load, even longer to appear, and then you're subject to all the ratings and critiques, which I don't like. So I joined Vimeo and uploaded eight of my videos there, then linking them here in past blogs. I wanted to make my account private, but then discovered that if I did that, then the video link wouldn't work -- people would just get a notice that they have to get my permission to view it. Well, duh, if I post it on my own blog, doesn't it stand to reason that I'm granting permission? Meh. So I made my account public.

Guess what. Today I just got email from them, saying my account has been cancelled. No warning, just poof. 

Dear Erica Scott:

Your account has been removed by the Vimeo Staff for violating our Guidelines.

Reason: Uploading videos that contain pornography or sexually explicit material.

Puritanical bastards! So now in my older blogs, where there were once videos, there is now a little sign, reading: "Sorry, this video does not exist." Screw you, Vimeo. They do too exist. 

Perhaps I'll try Blogger's "Insert Video" function again; maybe they've fixed the glitch by now. If not, then any suggestions for a free site where I can upload videos and not be censored?

Dear Vimeo: So, I'm too pornographic for you? Would Disney imagery be more up your alley? OK, here ya go.