Can I just say...

...that if I don't engage in some really intense spanking play soon, I'm going to explode into a gazillion tiny pieces?

(sigh) The end to this spanking exile is on the horizon. Steve is moving tomorrow. After that, it's done. All the packing and prepping and arranging and hassles will be behind him. He'll still have to settle in, but there won't be any rush. It will be time to celebrate. 

To get back to normal. I must be patient just a little while longer.

Reading about all the playing and the upcoming parties on FetLife isn't helping. Perhaps I need to stay away for a while. (Yeah, right. Ms. FetLife addict is going to stay away from there.) It's kind of like being put on a sugar-free diet and then constantly staring into bakery windows.

I need that fix. I need that pain and pleasure and release. That special connection with my top. Soon. So soon. Good things come to those who wait. Think of how delicious it's going to be...

Meanwhile, last Friday, John was at a Kaiser outpatient clinic, getting a transesophageal echocardiogram (TEE, for short). In short, they sedated him and put a tube down his throat so they could closely examine the back of his heart. It took about an hour-and-a-half and I waited there so I could take him home afterward. We had both expected him to be out of it and uncomfortable after it was over, but he was fine. He even wanted to go out to dinner, when I had been prepared to pick up some soup or something for him. Next, he has to get the results on a CD, so he can take them to another doctor for a second opinion; that will take a couple of weeks. And so it goes. Next weekend is his birthday; ours are 13 days apart. It's been a stressful time, so I think celebration is due for him as well, now that that test is behind him. 

Onward. Hope everyone had a great weekend, and hope you had a wonderful birthday, Bonnie! :-)

More spanko nostalgia

I was going through some old CDs and found one with some pictures I'd forgotten about. I posted one of them on FetLife, just for kicks, and the reaction was so positive, I thought I'd elaborate here.

The year was 2000; although I'd officially come out into the spanking scene in 1996, 2000 was the year that Erica Scott was born, and I did my first video. My co-star was Alexandria Panos, another newbie, who subsequently formed her own video production company, which she called Impressions. Besides the videos, she also made t-shirts, tank tops and panties with spanky phrases on them.

That summer, she asked me if I would do a photo shoot with our friend, the very talented Andrew Morgan, modeling some of the shirts and panties for her site. Of course I said yes, and we set it up so that Andy and I could shoot at a house where we were attending a party. It was an outdoor shoot, on a clear sunny day, in a beautiful back yard with a pool, palm trees and lots of greenery.

Mind you, this was my first experience with professional photography, and I was no fashion model. Granted, I know there's a lot more to photography than meets the eye. I was once told that for every one good shot, there's about 25 bad ones. And I'm fully aware that before Photoshop, there was airbrushing. Still, models seem to have an instinct about playing to the camera -- a tilt of the head, a thrust of the hip, just the right amount of smile. When I am relaxed and natural, I can take some very nice pictures. But if I'm trying too hard to be "model-y/pose-y," I can come off looking stiff and fake. So I admit, I struggled a bit with this shoot, fun as it was. However, Andy was patient with me and we coaxed some good shots out of me.

Here's the one I posted on FetLife.

I like the illusion that I'm not wearing any panties, even though I am. People seem to think the hair thing is sexy. However, I keep hearing my mother: "Get your hair out of your face!" LOL

This one, which I think you guys have seen before, might be my favorite. It's pure Erica Attitude. 

Or maybe I was just ticked off because my butt was up against a rough palm tree.

I like the "sunlight in her hair" effect of this one:

A different approach, shot from below. 

This one would be a favorite, if it weren't for that shirt. If you peer closely, you will see that it reads: "Good Girls Need Spanking's Too."

Goddammit. The plural of spanking is spankings. S-P-A-N-K-I-N-G-S. No @#$%ing apostrophe. Stop putting @#$% apostrophes in plurals!!

OK, grammar lesson over.

I know what you're thinking. Oh fine, Erica -- you're only showing the ones you like. How about sharing a couple you weren't too crazy about? All right, all right.

This one seems to be a perfect example of that fake-y "model-y/pose-y" thing I was talking about:

What the hell is up with that finger?? Was I going for cute and coy? Or simply attempting to dislodge a stubborn popcorn kernel?

And here's one where I took the shirt a bit too literally. Nooooo, I don't think this look does me any favors, either:

Gaaaaaaa! Keep that tongue in your face, Erica. Unless you're licking an ice-cream cone. Or licking....

...

...

...

...said ice cream off your upper lip. (What did you think I was going to say?? Perverts.)

Good times. For those who are wondering, I haven't had any communication with Alexandria for many years. The last I heard, she had dropped out of the video scene, gotten married and moved back east. I hope she is well and happy.

Funny thing -- I got to keep both the tank tops. I still have them, tucked away in a drawer. But I never wore them again. Maybe I should pull that "Naughty Girl" one out sometime. :-)

Birthday, to be continued

I really, really wanted to complete my birthday with a wonderful Steve session. But I knew he was torn in several directions, trying to pack his house for a move, preparing the new place (painters, etc.), work, his daughter, and so on. Still, I hoped that maybe, just maybe, it could happen anyway.

It didn't.

However... when we spoke last night, he felt bad about it, and insisted on dropping by today, just for a short time. I said no, let's wait, you've got too much to do, I don't want to you be more stressed, I don't want to put more on your plate. "I want this on my plate," he said. So I said OK.

He turned up on my doorstep at 11:00 AM, and when I opened the door, my mouth dropped open. He was loaded down with a vase of tulips and a cake box. 

Lookit!

And look at the pretty card...

I was overwhelmed. I didn't expect any of this. I can't believe he took the time to go get these things, even when all the stuff he has going on. When I told him he didn't have to, that it could wait.

He couldn't stay long -- just long enough to catch up a bit and for us to scarf down a slice of cake apiece (Red Velvet! Yum!). No spanking. But he said that's coming. My birthday is To Be Continued, still.

Not sure when it will be, since next Monday is his actual moving day. It may be two weeks. But at least I know it is coming. That things will get back on track. That I will have my joyous connection and fulfillment, my stress release, my top, once again.

Happy me. :-)

Birthday sweets and treats

It's been a lovely birthday weekend. John did his best to make it special for me, starting with sending me birthday roses a week early, so I could enjoy them all last week before the event. Aren't they beautiful?

Last night, we went to the California Canteen, one of our favorite restaurants, where I stuffed myself with fettuccine in herb-tomato sauce with grilled vegetables. Our server was kind enough to shoot a picture for us:

And then it was on to Aroma Café, where we were very lucky -- they still had some German chocolate cake left!

Look at the size of that thing! (that's what she said) And we completely demolished it. 

Today, my actual birth date, we went to our usual brunch at the neighborhood Denny's, where I got a free birthday breakfast. I love love love Denny's pancakes -- but every now and then, the cooks are a little stingy with them, making them a lot smaller than they usually do. When that happens, I eat them anyway -- but not today! When our regular server put our plates in front of us, I took one look at those shrunken little flapjacks and blurted, "Nahhhh, they can do better than that -- it's my birthday!" LOL! I'm such a brat. Our server, who quite adores us, understood completely, whisked them away and returned with two new ones that were about twice as big. John just shook his head at me. "You sent back the pancakes??" "Come on, did you see the size of those things?" I retorted. Yes, size matters.

After I said goodbye to my beloved and came home, I had an overwhelming amount of treats in store. I went online and found dozens of emails, FetLife messages and wall posts, and even Facebook posts, all wishing me Happy Birthday. I didn't know who to thank first... my head was spinning. 

Included was my annual birthday greeting from Dave Wolfe, who never forgets me! ♥ He apologized for not creating a Wolfie Toon for me this year, but this is just as good. Some of you will recognize this still from my all-time favorite mainstream spanking scene, from Wagon Train's "The Maggie Hamilton Story" with Robert Horton (playing Flint) and Susan Oliver. Wolfie did a bit of doctoring to it, of course.

I know it's hard to read the cartoon balloons. The horses are saying, "I just LOVE this show!" and "Our man FLINT! WOOOO!" Robert is saying, "THIS'LL teach you to go around WAGGIN" YOUR TRAIN!" and I'm saying, "Oh, for Pete's sake, who wrote THAT, WOLFIE??!" Why yes, he did. Thank you, darlin'.

(If you click on the picture, you can see it larger and more clearly.)

Thanks to my John, and to everyone who remembered and cared and expressed such sweet sentiments -- you guys brought tears to my eyes. Really. 

Almost makes aging worth it. ;-)

Had to laugh

Last night while on FetLife, I dashed off a bit of writing, very brief, describing a text conversation I'd had earlier that I found amusing. I figured it would pass into the nether regions of Fet, unseen, but this morning I logged on and found over 30 comments on it. Since it took off so unexpectedly, I thought I'd relay the story here as well, since it's been such a slow news week.

So I'm texting with a young woman whom I won't name, because I don't wish to embarrass her, but I'll just say that if you put this girl on a Cute-O-Meter, it would explode. We were chatting about giggling during spanking, and how tops seem to seize upon that as an opportunity to spank harder. She then texted me a photo of her making a sad, pouty face, and I said that I didn't see how anyone could spank her, with that face. It was that adorable.

She suggested I should try making that face myself.

"Honey," I replied, "you can pull that off, because you're 20-something and cute as a button. If I made that face, people would think I was constipated."

What can I say? It's true! There are simply certain looks one can't pull off successfully at a... er... somewhat advanced age. sigh

Such is life. Smirking was always more my style, anyway. That, and the "righteous indignation" face. :-D

(from Sarah Gregory Spanking, The Rude Innkeeper)

Speaking of age... another birthday on Sunday. Tomorrow night, birthday dinner and dessert with John; going to one of our favorite celebration restaurants, and then of course to our favorite coffeehouse, in hopes that they'll have the German chocolate cake I'm so enamored of. Steve is busy getting ready to move, but I do hope to see him Monday. What's a birthday without a spanking, right?

Have a great weekend, y'all.

OT: "Bad Dog!"

Today on her Wednesday Win post, our Hermione takes a trip down the memory lane of early computers. You know, DOS? (taking a pause while those of a certain age say, "WTF is DOS?") The Microsoft Office paperclip assistant? I thought I'd piggyback on her post and add one of my favorites.

Back in the dark ages (1990s), there was a company called After Dark that made some really cool and creative screensavers. Some of them were so entertaining, you'd let your computer time out on purpose just so that you could watch them. One of the most popular ones was called "Bad Dog."

Basically, it was just a Windows screen, but then a little black-and-white dog would scamper on and wreak all kinds of havoc. He'd dig holes, bark and howl, track dirt everywhere, jump into folders and destroy them, etc. The longer the screensaver was on, the more damage he'd do. Every once in a while, a voice off-screen would scold, "Bad dog!!" Then he'd tuck his tail and whimper for a second... and then get right back into making mischief.

After Dark is out of business, which is a shame. But you can still look at the mischievous pup in this YouTube clip.





I wonder if they ever had a "Bad Kitty" counterpart. That's what John calls me. :-)

Ah, FetLife...

... how I love you. And how you annoy the crap out of me sometimes. 

(Warning: this is one long-ass post. Pull up a comfortable chair and grab a refreshing beverage.)

FetLife -- the kinky person's Facebook. Our cyber community, where pretty much everything (except for activity with children or animals) is allowed. The place is huge and circuitous, with many places to go and many people to meet. It can be the happiest place in your world... and it can also be a viper pit.

One big adult amusement park is our FetLife. It has ups and downs like a roller coaster. One day, you'll feel like you're in the Tunnel of Love. (And no, that is not a vaginal reference. Get your minds out of the gutter.) On another day, you may feel like you stumbled into the House of Horrors.

What do I love about FetLife? So much. The support, the validation, the sense of belonging. The camaraderie and banter, the various postings that can range from silly and bratty to poignant. The tsunami of interaction before, during and after a big event. And the great potential for kindness, as I saw last week.

Earlier last week, someone tweeted a rather insensitive and insulting comment about one of my pictures, which I'd posted both on my blog and on FL. It really threw me, to say the least -- this person hit me where I live. I nearly bought into it, too; I found myself looking at the picture and saying to myself, "What was I thinking, posting this? I look horrible!" I posted what had been written to me on the FetLife version of my photo. Then I almost took it down. 

Until the reactions started flooding in. The massive amount of comments, wall posts, and even private messages, telling me I looked great, don't listen to this person, who says things like that anyway, etc. We love you, Erica. 

Wow. I left the photo in place, and thanked everyone. I was so touched. People who knew me, people who didn't know me in person... it didn't matter. They all rallied to assuage my hurt feelings.

Last week, "DrLectr" started a new group called "Nice RAK: Random Acts of Kindness." I feel like I've been the recipient of many of these. Just last night, I had logged on and was catching up on the weekend's posts. I was feeling kind of blech, but I hadn't posted anything to that effect. Then, out of nowhere, Prux posted a hug on my wall. How did she know?? That simple gesture of sweetness turned my evening around.

So yes, FetLife can be a haven and a joy. Sometimes.

Then you have posts like last Friday. You all know the ongoing controversy: "Dick pics, yes or no?" Apparently, one woman likes them, and thoroughly dislikes anyone who disagrees with her. She posted a bit of a rant, starting out by saying she's sick of seeing women bitch and whine about dick pics, and how they should shut the fuck up and stop being "inconsiderate twats."

Well. Any point she could have made for her argument was lost, as far as I was concerned, with that combative attitude. However, that post took off like a firestorm. As of this writing, it has 2922 "loves" and a whopping 951 comments.

I am not going to debate this damned subject again. I don't like it when men have dick pics as their main avatar. Why? It has nothing to do whether or not I like the appendage. I happen to like them. But not particularly the ones on random strangers. And if I friend a man on FetLife whose avatar is a dick pic, that means every time he communicates with me, or every time he posts anything, his dick is in my feed. No, thank you. So I clearly state in my profile that I'm sorry, but I will not friend men with that particular avatar. I don't introduce myself with my snatch, and I'm not interested in men introducing themselves to me in that manner. "Hi, I'm so-and-so, and this is my cock."

Anyway... I did not read all those comments, but I scanned quite a few. They were surprising. A few people had the stones to disagree with the OP (Original Poster). Others sort of agreed, but took a milder stance. But the majority of the replies? As militant and angry as the OP. "Hear, hear!" "Yeah!" "They really do need to STFU!" "Enough with the male-bashing!" (Never mind that the OP was bashing certain women, but I guess that's OK??) "I love cock!" One charming gentleman stated that the only way to handle a woman who complains about said photos is to ram a dick down her throat until all she can do is gag and drool. Oooooh, classy.

And then there was this.

Most women who are on this fetish site and state they hate looking at profiles with dick pics, do so mainly to send a message for other women that they are bisexual and interested in women.

Are you @#$%ing kidding me? There are people who actually believe this? If I'd been drinking something, I would have spewed it onto the screen. The sheer ignorance of this statement made my brain explode.

OK, I'm not going to speak for the masses, just for myself. There is nothing wrong with being bisexual, but that's one hell of an assumption, pal. Guess what? I'm straight. I happen to love men's bodies, and I love women's bodies too, even though I'm not sexually drawn to them. I do not hate dicks. I think a lover's erect penis is a beautiful thing. There, I said it. But note the lover. Not some disembodied stranger.

I like to put "loves" on many pictures on FetLife. I have loved photos of men's fit and sculpted bodies. I have also loved photos of some women's nude bodies, because I found them artistic and aesthetically pleasing. However, I have never "loved" a man's dick pic. Does that make me a prude? Or a male-basher? News flash -- I've never "loved" a twat shot, either. Or a "take a ride up Anal Alley" shot, for that matter. If I wanted to look at a#$holes all day, I'd go to medical school and study proctology.

So yes. Bodies, lovely. Genitalia? Not my thing. That doesn't make me a bad person, or a person who needs to shut the fuck up. It's not like I'm going on these people's profiles and pictures and posting, "Ewwwww, I don't want to see that." But I'm entitled to my opinion and my preferences. So you shut the fuck up, OP.

As for the bashing accusation -- saying I don't like dick pics is not male bashing. My own brand of "bashing" is unisex. I unleash my snark only when someone is rude to me or gets in my face. And it doesn't matter what gender they are. 

Yeah, FetLife. Some days, I wish I could quit you. Some days, you show me the seedy underbelly of the scene, the rotten sides of human nature. But then again, vanilla sites aren't much better when it comes to ignorance, bigotry and mean-spirited crap. And I can't find real connection on vanilla sites; people who truly get me and accept me. So I'll be sticking around good old FetLife, despite my days of disillusionment and frustration. Because the people I love on there go a long way in making up for the BS.

Oh, and to those who feel the need to post unkind remarks to people's pictures and videos, to rain on their parade? Just remember this:

Soooo, bye now. I'd say don't let the door hit you on the ass on your way out, but, truth be told, I'd enjoy seeing that. :-)

Friday potpourri

Whew -- after a couple of fairly heavy posts this week, I thought I'd end on a lighter note with some completely unrelated odds and ends.

First up, I was pleased to discover that Lily Starr put up an extended trailer of our "Secret Life of the Kinky Wife" video on Spanking Tube. It's about four minutes in length and is a nice sampling of the clip. You can check it out here.

Can you stand one more photo from Shadow Lane 2013? Yes? Good.

Here I am in my Friday night happy and excited state, with Alex the Adorable:

Yes, I know there is a person in the background, off to the left. But he/she is completely unrecognizable, and I didn't want to overcrop the picture, so I left it as is.

For those of us who can't get enough of "Fifty Shades" ridicule, here's the beginning of what promises to be a hilarious chapter-by-chapter dissection of our favorite crapfest of a book. The blogger is The Pervocracy and you can read about Chapter 1 here. I love love LOVE how the author keeps replacing Christian Grey's name with outrageous fake names. (Crud Bonemeal???)

And finally -- haven't posted about weird search engine phrases for a long time, because mine have been fairly straightforward and boring. However, this one popped up recently and I'm still shaking my head over it.

Erica Scott boston boy mode

What. The. Eff???

What could this possibly mean? What does Boston have to do with anything? And I don't think I've ever been in boy mode, whatever that means. Any ideas?

A quickie update on John: He is finally wrapping up all his dental work, so he'll be able to go back to focusing on heart surgery research. He's having another extensive test at the end of this month, and he'll be able to take those results with him to another facility for a second opinion. After that, he'll decide if he wants to stick with his HMO, or wait until next year when he can switch to a PPO with his work and go to a more specialized hospital. Meanwhile, he seems to be status quo; still tired all the time, but hanging in there, spirits good. The Shadow Lane getaway was good for both of us.

Off to get stuff done so I can go hug him to bits. Have a great weekend, y'all.

My not-so-secret secret

Let's review, kids (channeling Jules here): What's one of the biggest ongoing debates in the spanko world that will never have a definitive answer? That's right. Spanking + sex: yes or no?

I'm not going to debate that here today. Anyone who knows me, knows where I am on this. I happen to prefer keeping spanking and sex separate. Just like my cake-and-ice-cream analogy; I love both of those treats, but I don't like them mushed together on the same plate.

Please don't misunderstand me and think I don't like sex. I love it. However, when I'm in spanko mode, my needs are different. After a spanking, especially an intense one, my primary need is to be held and soothed. I need to feel contact, but more in a tender, caressing vein than in a sexual one.

I know a lot of people don't get this. In fact, sometimes I think the majority of spankos out there do prefer sex with their spanking. And more power to them -- enjoy all you can! Then there's the occasional gem like this, which I just received this morning:

Are you serious? How do you expect someone to pull up your dress, revealing your hot ass and legs encased in nylons and heels - not want to fuck you after they spank you???? Makes no sense

Makes no sense to you, honey. So I guess that means there's no room for discussion. Buh-bye.

HOWEVER...

Does this mean I don't get sexually aroused by spanking? Hell, no.

And after I'm back down to earth, after the subspace has lifted, yeah. Sometimes I do crave sexual release.

Because I have carefully drawn boundaries out of respect for John, sex with my play partners is not on the table. So when the need strikes during the week, I take care of it myself.

I've made no secret of the fact that I use a vibrator. I even wrote a silly post about it here. And I've experienced men using vibrators on me.

It used to be that I'd wait for my tops to leave (sometimes just barely). I joked with one of them that if he walked outside of my apartment and then listened carefully, he could probably hear me screaming. (Yes, I'm loud.) I never masturbated in front of any man -- sounds strange to some of you, I'm sure! But I was intensely private that way. A dichotomy, to be sure. Wanna spank me? Gather the audience, the bigger the better. But sex is between me and my partner, and no one else. Or between me and me, if it's self-pleasuring.

Until now. 

Steve didn't want me to do it after he left. He wanted to watch me.

At first, I felt squirmy and vulnerable. I didn't think I could do it; I thought I'd be too distracted. But he simply sat off to the side, not speaking, not touching, letting me concentrate. I shut my eyes tight and disappeared into the sensations, and then there it was.

He watched. And afterward, when I was shaking and recapturing my breath, he commanded me to lie still, don't move, rest. He then wrapped me in the comforter and held me, just as he had after the spanking. Told me how beautiful I was.

Perhaps it's part of the top experience for him. Watching me completely lose control, while he maintains his. I don't know. I don't understand how it all works. I only know that it does. Even after all these years and at my somewhat advanced age, I can still experience "firsts."

Once in a while, with my permission, he takes pictures. He's a man; he likes visuals. :-) He gives them to me, just as he gives me all the photos he takes. I've deleted them, because I don't find them appealing. However, one of them captured my bliss so perfectly, I had to keep it. I cropped it, of course. I prefer to leave certain things to the imagination. Then I gave it a black-and-white, softened treatment. I think it's sexy, but more artsy than porn-y. What do you think?

I debated for a long time about this post. Yes, I was shy about it. I may regret hitting "Publish." I may not. I may delete it. I may not. But for today, I felt like sharing another little piece of myself. And know that in doing so, I am still a sexy and desirable woman, even looking down the barrel of 56. ♥

"I'll think about it."

A simple, common sentence. Four little words. Who knew that it could get me in so damn much trouble?

I must backtrack for a bit. When I spoke with Steve last Thursday, he was not doing well. A lot of work stress, plus the added aggravation of having to move (the house he's been renting for years has been put up for sale, and he doesn't wish to buy it). I asked if he was coming over Monday, and he said with regret in his voice, "I really don't know. I've been so out of it lately, not sleeping well... I don't think I can get into the right head space for play, sweetie."

"Listen to me," I said. "We don't have to play. I'm your friend. Come over and just talk to me, vent, whatever you want. You don't have to perform for me. I just want to see you." I meant it. He could tell, because he agreed to come by this morning. 

I had no expectations of play whatsoever, and when he came in, I could tell he hadn't been exaggerating about how stressed he was. I've never seen him so tense. When he tried to send a text to a colleague, he fumbled the phone. I had him lie down on my bed, and I massaged his head until I felt him relax. "Thank you for taking care of me," he said. "I'm sorry about the role reversal. I should be taking care of you."

"You will another time," I said. "For now, you need to rest." He wound down a bit, talking less, and finally murmured, "You know, I'm fading... I could go to sleep right now." "Then go ahead," I insisted. Right after that, he practically passed out, poor guy. He slept for the better part of an hour, I think.

After he woke, I stretched alongside him and we chatted some more. He thanked me again for being here for him, and I answered, "Thank you for letting me. I was afraid you were going to shut me out, because you were so stressed out." He went on to assure me that he would never do that, no matter what was going on. As we talked, I could feel him coming back. His voice, his body language, everything was changing from the tense man who had walked in a while ago back into the Steve I see every week. "How many times do I have to tell you I'm not going anywhere?" he teased. I shrugged, and he added, "You do know that, right? You'd better know it, or I'll roll you over right now."

Hmmm. I liked the sound of that. I still didn't answer.

With a little bit more of a toppy edge, he repeated, "You do know that, don't you? Say yes."

All I had to do was say "yes," and I was off the hook. Instead, I smirked at him and replied, "I'll think about it."

Wrong. Answer.

"Oh, that's it," he growled. "If I had my bag with me, this would be a boot camp moment. You'll think about it?? Go get me something. I'll give you something to think about."

Giggling, I went to my closet. And then temporary insanity overtook me. I could have brought him the Cane-iac OTK strap that I like so much. Or a leather paddle. But no-o-o-o. I brought him that @#$%ing Strictly Lickin' Stick, the one Kat sold to John at Shadow Lane.

How does one describe this monstrosity? It's not a thick, thuddy paddle; it's only about 5/16" thick. But it's not just one piece of wood; it's actually six super-thin layers of hardwood laminated together, finely sanded and polished, then coated with lacquer. It doesn't quite sting, either. It burns and it bites, unlike anything I can think of. It's NASTY.

Why I brought it to him, I don't know. 

He wasted no time in flipping me into position on the bed and shoving pillows under my hips. "No warm-up," he said calmly, laying into me immediately. Oh, my God.

"Still thinking, honey? What are you thinking now? Hmmm?" It was all happening so fast and so intensely, I couldn't think at all. "Uhmmm, nothing, nothing! I'm not thinking anything! Ow! That hurts!"

"I'm sure it does," he replied, continuing. "I need to remind you. We're going to rename this 'the reminder stick.' You need to be reminded that I'm here for the long haul." I tried to process the pain, sink into it, be with it, but damned if that thing wasn't setting me on fire, so I struggled and kicked.

"No," he scolded, "no kicking. Keep still. I'm not going to stop until you stop moving." So I'd manage to for a few swats... but then squirm and thrash again.

"You still thinking about it?" he asked. "NO!" I hollered. "I'm not, I'm not!" "So are you sure now?" "YES!" "Tell me." "I'm sure you're not going anywhere! I'm sorryyyyyy!"

"Just a few more," he assured me. The only problem was that he said that three or four times!! "Keep still," he warned again. "I can't, it HURTS!" "I know, honey."

I tried, I really did. I managed to hold perfectly still for a few more. But when that last one cracked down across both cheeks, I lost it. "STEEEEEEEEEEVE!" tore out of my throat in a shriek, and I swiftly rolled onto my back, my arms and legs frantically curling up and in.

He did not attempt to reposition me. He knew I was done. Instead, he pulled me to him and held on tight. "It's over, baby. Hold onto me. Let it out."

I burst into tears. The good kind. The kind that cleanse me from the inside out.

No, it wasn't one of our long, multi-layered scenes. It was quick, unexpected, spontaneous, and ferocious. But it was what we both needed, apparently. The tension was gone from both of us. Soon, I was laughing through my tears. And he was laughing too.

Magic.

But I still hate that fucking Lickin' Stick. :-Þ

He didn't bring his camera today, but I took a couple of "selfies" after he left.

Look at my sulky face! Don't you feel sorry for me??

Yeah, I didn't think so. Nuts to all of you. :-)

Especially you, Kat!! 

(P.S.  All kidding aside... I ♥ you, Steve. Thank you. I hope things will all fall into place for you soon. Until then, I'm not going anywhere, either.)

Look out... here it comes...

... party drop. Yes, it has arrived.

It's quite inevitable, after these weekends. So much stimulation, so much attention, so much love, such a suspension of real life. Then you come back.

I'm taking it in stride so far, knowing it is what it is and it will pass. I knew the post-part giddiness wouldn't last forever. FetLife and Twitter have been a whirlwind of pictures, posts, comments and thank-yous, and when I look at them now, my heart hurts a little. I miss you guys! I want to be with you again! I want hugs and snuggles and spanks and laughs and all that party goodness. I want to be all over the U.S. at once and see everyone.

I don't know when I will be playing with Steve next. No, it's not because of what you might be thinking. He's simply dealing with a deluge of real-life issues all at once, and his energy and head-space for play have temporarily been squelched. It happens. Reality blows. I will hold good thoughts that things get better for him. I miss him.

But I do get to be with my sweetie tonight and this weekend. I think we may be belatedly celebrating our anniversary, which was last Friday. No big plans, just a nice dinner somewhere. And lots of post-party dishing. Yes, men dish too. :-)

Meanwhile, on a cheerier note, I got a few pictures from the Amateur Spankings film I shot with BratKaye. Apparently, it's going to be called "Up to No Good." How apropos! 

Well, maybe not. I mean, come on. Do we look like troublemakers here?

OK. I guess we do.

No Chross list this week??! Dammit! I was a shoo-in with these party reports! (sulk) How dare he have a life when I'm so in need of attention. ;-)

Yes, that was written with tongue firmly planted in cheek. Have a great weekend, y'all.

Shadow Lane 2013, Part 4 (Sunday)

Sunday morning I was able to sleep in until about 10:30, because Strict Dave's CP Court wasn't until noon. As we've learned to do, John and I got there early when they were still setting up, so we could get seats on one of the couches. It was a good plan, because the room ended up being so packed with bodies, it was standing room only, and people were spilling out into the foyer! It's a statement about how well-loved Dave and his CP Court are, because so many of these people were running on fumes, having had little to no sleep, and yet here they all were on a Sunday morning.

As I sat waiting for court to start, I felt hands on my shoulders and turned to see KinkyCoach, who had positioned himself behind the couch. We started chatting, and I asked if he would play with me that evening, to which he answered yes. A few minutes later after I'd faced forward again, these amazing strong fingers and thumbs started probing my neck and shoulders, and I would have slumped off the couch and landed on the carpet, had Alex and Prux not been sitting at my feet. I told KC that if his spanking was anything like his massage, I was going to fall in love with him. He laughed and said I had his permission to do so.

(A quick aside: once again, I marvel at how I can toss off flirtatious sentences like that while sitting right next to my beloved. I love my open-minded, non-possessive man!! ♥)

Court convened and was the usual crazy fun. It ran a bit longer this time and we were there until nearly 2:00, but it was worth it. After that, John and I headed down to Café Siena once again, this time accompanied by Mir and Samantha (no, not Woodley). We sat and yapped up a storm, lingering there until nearly 4:00. 

After a nap and doing some packing, I put on my baby-doll PJs and we headed to 801 at 8:00 for the final blow-out. I had kept missing people all weekend with whom I wanted to play, and I planned to make up for that tonight. Little did I know just how much I would be doing that!

First thing I saw when I walked into one of the bedrooms was the gorgeous Maddy Marks, stretched out on the bed and being double-massaged by her man and by KC. "What's all this?" I teased, walking over. She turned her head and smiled at me, saying hello. "Hello, you lucky woman," I replied. Then I glanced at KC, flicked the spike of hair he has on top of his head and said, "When's my turn, Alfalfa?"

(Yes, I know. No one under 40 will get that reference.)

I got my turn with him shortly thereafter. He started with massage -- I took off my PJ top and sprawled out, relishing having all the knots kneaded out of me. He then asked, "Feeling good?" and I said "Almost. I still want a spanking." Damn, I'm greedy. He complied, sitting down and pulling me across his lap. Unfortunately, he happened to have a nasty hairbrush handy (shudder). He made me pay for the "Alfalfa" comment, and one more. At some point when he'd been waxing egotistical (and tongue-in-cheek) about his effects on women, I'd asked, "So is that why your hair spikes up -- because your head is too big for it to lie flat?" :-D

When another couple joined us on the bed, he shifted me to make more room and then resumed with his hand. As I squirmed, I felt something hard under my arm, and realized it was the brush. Mischievously I grabbed it and waved it front of his face, but when he reached for it, I threw it across the room. "You little @#$%!" he blurted, laughing. Of course, one of his fellow tops retrieved it for him, and he let me have it, doing a leg lock when I kicked. Yum.

At the end he had me stand, then kneel down in front of him so we could hug. I sighed, "This is when I know I've had a good scene -- I hate to see it ending!" It didn't, not just yet. Aftercare went on for about 15-20 minutes; I lost track of the time. We just stayed in that position, hugging tight. I tuned everything out and focused on how good I felt. When we finally pulled apart, I stood and then we hugged yet again. This time, his face was on my upper chest, so he gave me a quick and playful nip/suckle. Then I heard him say, "Damn, you've got sensitive skin!" I looked down and saw this:

Gaaaaaa! I knew I was never going to hear the end of this, and I certainly didn't. John teased me about it for the rest of the evening, and every time someone asked me what that was, John would say, "Yes, honey, tell them!" I had to repeat the story several times, blushing furiously.

I was Jell-O after that, so I staggered back into the main room and sat at Joe's feet for a while, chatting with him and Joey. Soon we were joined by others, and pizzas arrived, so everyone munched and talked for a while. At one point, I was sitting with Alex, Mila and Christy Cutie (who really is a cutie) and making them laugh with my stories about one of the scene's most infamous creepers. Then it was back to play. I did a quickie scene with Alex (male Alex, not Reynolds), which was silly fun and hurt his hand more than my butt. (snicker) 

The rest of the night is a blur of play-mania. Suddenly, everyone I'd wanted to play with all weekend was turning up and asking me -- YS, Malignus, Fineous, and of course Michael, with whom I knew I wanted seconds (and maybe thirds). In the next couple of hours, I had my first scene with Malignus (who was a lot of fun and a great top), one hell of an intense strapping with itsnature (two straps at a time at some points!), and then one of Fineous's magical floggings.

Also in that time span, I had my second scene with Michael, which was shorter than our first, but rather emotional for me, because I felt like I'd insulted him and I ended up tearing a little. He had scolded me earlier for focusing on others in the room during the spanking when he'd told me not to, so I was being very careful to not do that again. But when we were having aftercare, I was snuggled up in his arms, and then I heard John off to the side, loudly (for my benefit) saying, "WELL! It's going to be a long, awkward drive home!" I couldn't help it -- I burst out laughing. Then I thought, "Oh no!! I did it again!" Michael cracked up too, so he was totally OK with it. The scene was over, after all. However, I still got wiggy, and when we stood up, I started babbling, "Are you OK with that? You're not mad, are you? You're not upset with me for laughing?" He just stared at me, incredulous. "Erica, look at me," he said. "Look at this face. Do you see 'mad' here? Do you see 'upset' here? Do you see anything but a very happy man?" Silly, silly me, getting all teary-eyed. But these parties tend to reduce us to our most emotional cores when we least expect it. Michael told me to go off and play, but that we weren't finished. That's when I knew I wanted him to be my final scene of the weekend.

I really, really wanted to play with YS, who had likewise expressed that desire. But we kept missing each other that night. Around 12:30, I saw him across the room and approached him, asking if now was a good time. He had a package of cigars in his hand, and he looked at me regretfully and said, "Oh... I was just about to go out with the guys and have a cigar! After? Will you still be here?" I figured cigars wouldn't take too long, so I'd hang out, talk with others, then play with him when he came back. That would leave one more scene with Michael, and then I'd call it a night. He promised he'd come back and find me, and he was off. I told Michael about the plan so he was down with it as well, and he went off to play some more.

I sat with John and chatted with Jada and Kelley and several others, just relaxing and enjoying the various sensations of afterglow. But after a while, I started getting very drowsy. We had to get up at 7:00 so we could hit the road early and beat the traffic. I kept glancing at the foyer, waiting for YS, and then back at my watch. When it was quarter of two and he hadn't come back, I regretfully made a decision -- I couldn't wait any longer. I wasn't upset; I know how things go at these parties. He probably got sidetracked and it simply wasn't meant to be, this time.

So I found Michael. "I'm ready," I said.

He sat at the side of the bed and had me stand before him, my hands on my head. Then he pulled my PJ bottoms and panties down, had me face him while he spoke quietly to me, telling me what he was going to do. How loved I was, how much I needed this and how honored he was to be my first and last. Then he began.

Flurries. Really hard, fast flurries, with pounding swats that screamed through my entire body and had me moaning into the pillow. He'd pause briefly to rub, to whisper encouragement, then I'd feel a firm hand pressing on my back, or gripping my hair, and the next flurry would begin. The last one was the hardest, and through my haze of pain, I heard him count down. "Five... four... three... two... one... let it out!!" I raised my head off the pillow and let out a howl, then collapsed back down. I was done. I was blissful, wrung out, my whole body throbbing, my blood singing in my veins. 

Delicious. Perfect.

After Michael delivered me back to John, I knew I was done. It was 2:30, and despite my usual attack of FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out), it was time to go. We reluctantly began our goodbyes. The beautiful OTKDesire hugged me tight and said, "No, you can't go!" which made me smile. Joe said, "This is worth a break in the music," and he turned the sound down for a moment and announced, "Everyone, Erica Scott and John are leaving!" LOL! A whirlwind of hugs, and we left. I clung tightly to John in bed that night, feeling the need for his closeness. He's so very good to me at these parties, letting me flit around and do my thing while he socializes. I love him so much for this, and for so many other things, too. ♥

I ended this weekend with few regrets. I'm sorry we didn't get to see Dana, and I'm sorry I didn't get to play with YS, or with Joe. The party was not without its emotions, and I witnessed a couple of mini-meltdowns, which made my heart hurt. I've been there; I know how it is. These gatherings are so nurturing, yet at the same time, they can be excruciating. We're all keyed up, sleep-deprived, and engaging in play that brings our emotions and vulnerabilities to the forefront, and every feeling, good and bad, is multiplied tenfold. So for those who had rough moments this weekend, please know you are not alone. 

For everyone this weekend who talked with me, hugged me, played with me, filmed with me, gave me love and warm fuzzies, thank you. For our suite party hosts, thank you for taking such good care of us. To Shadow Lane, thank you for yet another great party. For my beloved, thank you for being my companion; I can't imagine being at one of these events without you.

And now, I suppose I should get back to work.

P.S. Does anyone else see the irony of this? I come home from a spanking weekend -- my thighs are a mess, my chest has a big fat suck mark on it, and yet my butt is spotless?? (sore, yes, but completely white. Meh!)

Shadow Lane 2013, Part 3 (Saturday night)

So I finally got myself down to the ballroom, where John had already gotten us seats at a table (right next to the dance floor, yes!). We went to the buffet -- I was happy to see that the choices were much better than the hors d'oeuvres the night before, including salmon and baked chicken, and fresh steamed veggies. Good healthy choices, so I could splurge and have a piece of chocolate mousse cake afterwards! :-)

Everyone looked great; John looked so handsome in his suit, as always. One standout for me was Mila Kohl, decked out in a floor-length, strapless ball gown with her hair put up. She looked like a princess! And Sarah Gregory looked like a beautiful siren in red.

I also had Kaye take pictures of Michael and me. My cell phone takes crappy shots, but I liked this anyway. :-)

Dammit, I forgot to have someone take a picture of John and me together this year. Argh. 

After dinner, John asked me to dance, and we got on the floor just as Bob the DJ was starting Madonna's "Hanky Panky." Perfect! I threw myself into it, dancing my butt off -- how I managed to get through that whole song without stumbling on my high heels, I'll never know. Shortly thereafter, Bob began the "Electric Slide," and a big group got up for it. Last year, I'd watched everyone doing this and thought how much fun it looked, but didn't have the nerve to join in. This year, I was determined to do it. So I kicked off my pumps and jumped right in. It's pretty simple, actually -- just four moves, with a quarter turn in between sets of four. Fun! Best of all, I then danced a slow dance with my sweetheart. It was our 17th anniversary last Friday. ♥

Just before 10, we went back to our room so I could fix my hair and makeup before my shoot with Triple A. John was dropping me off at AAA-John's room, so we arrived there promptly at 10 and knocked on the door. No answer. Knocked again, no answer. Oh, crap.

I didn't know what to do -- we hadn't exchanged any contact information. 
I texted Alex, since she's friends with AAA-John, thinking she might know where he was. She sent back a phone number, but I couldn't use it because I don't have an international plan on my phone. So we waited there until 10:20. I was so bummed and disappointed. "Why do people have to be so flaky?" I sighed to John. We decided to go back down to the ballroom to look for him, and sure enough, as we were going up the escalator, we saw AAA-John coming down! So we got off the escalator at the top and ran to the going-down side.

He and his work partner David were full of apologies -- they had been looking for me in the ballroom! "You must have been calling us all sorts of dirty names," David mused. And John quipped, "No, not at all... but the word 'flake' did come up." AAACCCKK! I was so embarrassed! But they just laughed; no offense was taken. We were all simply happy that we'd connected after all.

Long story short, we ended up back in the AAA room and both men were completely amenable to John staying to watch. Since AAA-John and I were all dressed up, we decided to do a scenario as a couple who were at a party, and he was miffed at me for drinking too much and flirting with the bartender. We ad-libbed the whole thing and had some fun banter. I really enjoyed this shoot! :-) It was so easy and relaxed. But I'm never going to live down that "flake" business.

I love getting dressed up, but it was enough already. I couldn't wait to go back to our room to change into something more comfortable, but still somewhat dressy (a pink-and-black skirt and a black tank top), and swap out the stockings and pumps for low-heeled sandals. And it was back to Room 801 for us!

Having seen a lot of FLA Paddler on FetLife, I was pleased to finally meet him. He was every bit as charming as he'd seemed. That night, I decided to follow my new "Ask people to play; don't wait for them to ask you" motto and approached him, asking if he'd like to play. He asked what type of scene I'd like; I wasn't quite sure what he meant, so I answered, "Ummm... spanking?" He laughed, then said, "Yes, spanking... but anything else? Flogging? Strapping? Single-tail?" Oooh, flogging, yes please. So we went into the bedroom and did a lovely long scene, with spanking first and then a delicious double flogging. He was very talented with those things, spot on with his aim and great at varying the intensities. And he was interactive, talking with me throughout, which I liked, since I didn't know him well and it helped me feel more connected. 

After that, I was pliant and warm and relaxed, and reluctantly put my clothes back on (I'd stripped down to panties) and shuffled my way back into the living room. The rest of the evening feels a bit blurry and I hope I don't forget anything crucial. I do remember sitting on the couch with Michael and Prux, eating a piece of the sheet cake our hosts had gotten to celebrate Shadow Lane's 22nd year. Then we were joined by a gentleman who goes by the name "Oak" on FetLife. I'd met him the night before; he's from Denmark, a stunning tall blond man with a sweet smile and a soft-spoken voice with a delicious accent. Michael started saying a lot of complimentary things about him, and Prux pronounced him the "yummiest man ever." Well! One thing led to another, and soon Oak was leading me by the hand back into the bedroom. We had a brief but lovely OTK scene -- yes indeed, he IS yummy. :-D  I had my usual insecurities about playing with someone so much younger, but he thanked me and told me he'd enjoyed it.

Back in the main room, John was busily chatting with Amy on one couch, so I sat back down next to Michael on the other. He and I had chatted earlier and he'd shared a story of a wonderful scene experience with me, so I was feeling especially warm and fuzzy toward him. And I was also getting very sleepy. I ended up curling up against him, with my legs up and across his lap, and closing my eyes, letting the sounds of the party float around me and feeling my body relax completely. You know, all the playing is delicious, but moments like these, special sharing moments with dear friends, really make the weekend for me.

I wish I could remember whether or not I played again that night -- I don't think I did. All I remember is sprawling against John later while he continued his chat with Amy, and when I knew I couldn't stay awake any longer, I said, "Honey, I'm gonna go back to our room and go to bed." I didn't want him to end his conversation, but he insisted that they were winding it up anyway, so we said our good-nights and we took off for the night. I think it was around 2:30. I know a lot of people pulled all-nighters, but we all know I just can't do that. It was all I could to do to wash my face and brush my teeth before falling into bed. Despite my head swirling with the evening's activities, I fell asleep almost immediately.

Sunday next! But first, something I forgot from Saturday afternoon at the SSNY party. I was talking with Beth, Ellee and YS, and I whispered to Beth that I wanted thigh turkeys from YS. Of course, that sweet girl made it happen! :-D He sat me down, with practically the whole room watching, and did his particular magic on my oh-so-sensitive thighs. Beth snapped pictures as we watched the hand prints bloom.

The prints blurred after a day or so, so now I'm left with a colorful array of red streaks and small bruises.

I have no idea why thigh turkeys are so damned fascinating. They just are.

Part 4 tomorrow.

Shadow Lane 2013, Part 2 (Sat. morning & afternoon)

John dragged me out of bed at 9:15 a.m. on Saturday so I could shower and get ready for the shoot with BratKaye. In honor of that shoot, I wore some brand-new lingerie:

Got myself some caffeine and arrived at their room at 10:15. We chatted for a while, then got down to business. Kaye and I did a scenario where we essentially played ourselves: two "spanking models" at a party in Vegas. However, we'd been booked (and pre-paid) for a custom shoot the night before, but both of us blew it off, ignoring our phone calls and texts and partying up a storm with fellow guests. So of course, G was taking us to task for it.

Too funny -- G was prepared with cameras and lights and all that stuff, but he'd neglected to bring any implements! So Kaye called Fineous (the famous flogger) and asked if he had anything we could borrow. Fortunately he was up and dressed, and he delivered a hairbrush to the room (thanks a lot, Fin). We improvised and shot what I think will be a fun scene, with plenty of smart-assery. I don't have any stills from that yet (dammit! I want all my pictures, now!), but will post when I have some.

After that, I found John back in our room, and we headed down to Café Siena to have lunch. On our way, we met Joe and Ten in the elevator, and they asked to join us. Are you kidding? Who would say no to those two as companions? We had a great lunch with lots of lively conversation; I wanted to treat, since I'd just gotten paid for a shoot, but Ten absolutely would not hear of it, pulling out her credit card. I started to argue, but she put up a finger and gave me her Bossy Ten face, so I backed down. :-)

"I have money," she said. "Don't you know I'm a chubby hooker??" (That was in reference to a post some asshat made on FetLife last week, where he said the "new crop of spanking models" were a bunch of hookers, and most of them were too "chubby." Charming, huh?) John came back with, "That's chubby ho." So, our new name for Ten is CeeHo. ;-)

The SSNY folks were having a suite party from 1-4, with hopes to show a bunch of their video shorts, as they always do. These things are a riot and a highlight of any party weekend. Unfortunately, this time, they couldn't get the big-screen TV to hook up properly and show them. What a bummer! The room was packed, very noisy, and dreadfully warm, and while I loved being there, I found myself feeling a bit overwhelmed and not knowing which way to turn. Then I glanced over and saw Prux standing alone -- she looked exactly how I felt. I sidled over to her and said, "Hey, you wanna take a break and go outside for a bit?" She nodded, and we went out to the hallway (which was blessedly cool) and sat down with our backs against the wall, chatting. Soon, we were joined by others such as Michael, Lance Del Toro, OTKDesire, Aurora, and my John, with several others walking by and greeting us.

At one point, John from Triple A Spanking came over to say hello. He's from the UK (we had a lot of UK folks this time! always lovely to see them) and this was his first SL party; I'd been introduced to him the night before. I knew he was shooting all weekend, so I was thrilled to bits when he said, "Hey Erica, would you like to film a little something later?" Hellz, yes! I suggested we do it right after the dinner buffet/dance, when we'd be all dressed up, and he agreed, so I said I'd come to his room at 10 p.m. 

After a while, Michael whisked Prux off to give her some special attention and the others left as well, so John and I went back into the SSNY room. Once there, I was approached by Kor-E, who had asked earlier if this was the year where we'd finally play, and I said yes. "Got a minute?" he said. "Yes!" I replied, and off we went into the bedroom, where we had a hilarious scene. He was melodramatically scolding me for seeing him at parties for the past seven years and not knowing that he wanted to play with me. "Why didn't you just ask?" I screeched. "You're supposed to know! You're supposed to read our minds, and know from just that quick glance across the room!" Oh, brother. "I am NOT a @#$%ing Shadow Lane ambassador!" I protested, but it was no use. For the rest of the scene, I had to hear all about his "misery and heartache." ;-) We hammed it up and had a lot of laughs. He said he thought perhaps now he could let go of the pain he's been carrying and forgive me. I certainly hope so.

When the SSNY party ended, there was another event at 4:00, but I was wiped out and needed a nap. So John and I headed to our room to sleep a while. Upon our arrival, I got a text from Dana, which brought some sad news. Poor thing had a pipe burst in her house, flooding the downstairs! How horrible! So of course, not only was our shoot off, but all the others she had scheduled as well. What utter suckage. I felt so bad for them; what a thing to happen, and what incredibly rotten timing. I was so disappointed that I was going to miss seeing them yet again, but it couldn't be helped. I texted back, asking if we could help somehow (help move furniture, whatever), but she said the landlady and her husband were there and would be there all the next day too. (sigh) I hope they will be OK and the damage will be minimal.

John woke me up at 6:00 so I could get ready. Saturday night is always "dress-up" night at these things, and I was prepared with an LBD, fishnet stockings and high heels.

You know, after all these years, I'm still a nervous wreck before the Saturday night affair. I'm not sure why. I take forever with my makeup and my hair and I ask John to go down to the ballroom ahead of me so I can have a couple of minutes alone to breathe deep and gather myself. Silly, isn't it. But it's what I do. Finally, I was (somewhat) satisfied with my appearance and headed downstairs to start the long night of partying.

These entries are wayyyyy long, so I'm going to break them up into manageable bits. Part 3 coming soon!