50 Freaks, Part 4

Finally, the last installment. The longest one, too. Might want to get a beverage and settle in.

Getting up Sunday morning sucked, but Strict Dave's Court is a must-see event, period. So after showering and dressing, I went to get us both coffee while John went to the suite. We like to get there early so we can get a good seat, because the "court" gets packed.

Well, we were super early. Turned out it had been moved from 11 to noon. (groan). Oh well... we were there, so we hung out and chatted until it was time for court to convene, which ended up being about 12:20.

As always, lots of fun and silly cases, and Bob actually took me to court for assing his hand! Of course, he knew he had a losing case from the start -- I mean, here was skinny little me, and then this 6' 4" mountain of a man crying, "Waaaaah, she hurt my hand!" But we had a lot of fun with it. He presented his argument, and demanded that I show "Exhibit A" (my ass). When it was my turn to speak and present my defense, I had two points. One, my reputation has been around for many years, and Bob knew very well the risk he was taking when he took me on. And two... "My boyfriend has been spanking me for 17 1/2 years and has never bruised or blistered his hand. Now the plaintiff here has been spanking women for many years as well," I said. "So can someone please tell me why the hell he still has Edward Sissyhands?"

The room fell apart. I love it when I get a chance to use that phrase. :-) Poor Bob. He was a very good sport, though!

After court, John and I went to lunch, and about halfway through we were joined by Bob and his wife Kitty. Then Bob was off to shoot with Alex and Paul, and John and I headed to 960. Sandy had organized a little gathering for (I think?) 16 of us to see a comedy show playing in the hotel that evening -- the headliner was Kevin Nealon, from SNL and Weeds. The signup sheet had been filled, but then Joe told us two people had dropped out, so would John and I like to go? Yes!

The show was at 7:30, so our group gathered at 7:00 and headed to the show. We were up in the balcony area, taking up three tables. It was a great fun; the opening act wasn't very good, but Kevin nailed it -- he was hilarious. At one point he was talking about relationships and how difficult they can be, and how couples are always trying new things to keep things fresh. "You know, kinky sex?" he said. "Spanking in the bedroom? What's up with that?" At the sound of the "s" word, our group let out a huge cheer and started fist-pumping and waving. He squinted up at us and ad-libbed, "I gotta get to know these people!" I think if we had been closer to the stage, he might have engaged further with us. Too funny.

The show ended around 9:00, and then OTKDesire and Stonehand asked if we'd like to join them at Friday's. We had a lovely time with them, eating dinner and talking and laughing. SH had brought big coolers and drinks and so forth to the party, helped Joe with the hotel booking and other stuff, so we owed him a big thank-you as well. John insisted on buying dinner, which I thought was classy of him. The night before, he had paid for Joe's dinner as well, as a thank-you. I do love that man of mine.

Just a few hours left!! Nooooooo! A little bit of sadness was setting in, and indecision. Had I played enough, and if not, was there someone I wanted to play with whom I hadn't yet? I knew I was going to play one more time with Michael and was saving him for the end, but who else? I was sore... really sore. But it was Sunday night, time to go for the blow-out! I was talking with YS and he asked if I'd like to play with him again, and I said yes. He said he needed to take care of Ellee and Beth first, so I sent him off and then approached Strict Dave.

I hadn't played with Dave for the last couple of parties -- he's a busy man and much in demand, and I thought dammit, if I miss out this time, I have to wait all the way until next September. "Are you booked up for the evening?" I asked him. "No, I am not at all," he answered. "Just give me a few minutes to eat something, OK?" Pizza had been delivered again, so while he ate, I sat back down next to John until Dave was ready.

Dave is an amazing player -- he has a lot of skill with many implements, and he can go from the mildest of scenes to the most extreme, depending on his partner. I'd say with me, he's probably somewhere in the middle, which is just perfect. While I watched, he went through his massive bags of toys, pulling things out. My eyes grew wider and wider as I watched the implements pile up. "Don't worry," he grinned. "I'm not necessarily going to use all these. I just want them handy!" Included were several canes, from thick to very thin/whippy. Gulp.

Our scene was almost indescribably good. I completely lose myself in my scenes with Dave, because he's constantly on the move, constantly switching things up and varying, and I never know what he's going to do, so I just close my eyes and go for the ride. He doesn't talk, except to check in (which he does often, and I appreciate that). We started with him in one of the plush chairs and he had me across one leg with my torso sort of draped into the back of the chair. I didn't know what he was using and when -- he kept alternating between his hand and various toys. So many feels, as Kelley would say. This position was good for all the shorter implements, but then he stood me up and led me to the oversized ottoman, draping me over it and starting up with his straps. My head was dangling toward the carpet, and he put a pillow down for me, so I clung to it and surrendered myself to all these incredible sensations.

All too soon it was over, and he scooped me up, flipped me around and sat down with me in his lap, holding me close. Damn. Thank you, Dave. 

After I came down from that high, I looked over to the bar where I could hear some whoops and shrieks. Beth and Ellee were taking turns sitting on a bar stool while YS gave them thigh turkeys. Beth caught my eye and called, "Want one, Erica?" Yes please!

I don't know what it is about those things. They fascinate me. They hurt so bad you practically see stars, but it's just one single hard slap, you know it's coming, you can breathe into it. And then, you have this spreading warmth and a blooming, bright red hand print. Mesmerizing! So up I went onto the bar stool, and YS did first my right thigh and then my left, holding my hand tightly in his free hand. Ow, ow, ow, OW, thank you soooo much...

They're pretty, in a scary sort of way, don't you think?

John and Michael came over to me after that and said I was marked. No way, I thought, I don't mark. But they both took a look again and said yes indeed, I was, and that a couple of spots looked like they were about to open. Uh oh. Then I remembered I had brought Tegaderm clear protective patches, and I said I'd put one on over the spots so I could still play another time or two. John said to Michael, "You can do the honors," so Michael came back to our room with me. It's really hard putting one of those things on yourself when you can't see what you're doing, so I was grateful for the help. Oh, and the humorous remarks while he was doing it. ;-)

YS made good with his invitation to play again, finding me when I was chatting with Heinz and Katarina. We had another yummy scene, with his hand and his favorite well-worn strap. 

It's interesting to me how everyone is so different, and we all have our little preferences. When I lie on my stomach on a bed or couch for a spanking, my automatic reflex is to hunker down and fold my arms into myself, or under my chest. But as I started to do so, I felt YS gently tug at my arms, indicating that he wanted me to spread them out. So I did. I caught myself several times during the scene starting to put them in their usual position, and stopped. Really, if a little thing like a particular arm positioning is pleasing to a top, why not do it? (Yes, I really can be accommodating! Who knew?) Anyway, he was wickedly delicious and I am very glad I came back for seconds!

It was getting later, past 1:00 AM. I knew I had one scene left in me, I knew with whom it would be, and I knew he'd come to me when he was ready. Sure enough, Michael wandered over, but he hung back, selecting a bag of chips off the coffee table and sitting in a chair that faced the couch where John and I sat. There, he ate his chips, staring at me. Unblinking, unsmiling, just looking intently at me. Wanting to make me squirm, which he did. It's time, I thought.

Still looking at me, he tipped his head back and emptied the crumbs into his mouth, then he crumpled the bag and got up. But he approached John first, not me. He whispered something to John, who nodded and then slid all the way to one end of the couch. Then Michael turned to me. "Stand up." I did.

"I'm going to spank you in front of this room full of people," he whispered to me, "and I'm going to spank you in front of your boyfriend. It's going to be really hard, and you're going to take it. You can hold on tight to John; he will be there to support you. But don't you engage with anyone, don't you even think about looking up. You have two things to do: survive this spanking, and absorb John's support. The rest is in my hands. Do you understand?"

Holy mother of fucking God.

I nodded, and leaned inward toward him. "No," he said. "Do not touch me. The only one you can touch now is John. Afterward, both of us will comfort you. But not now." 

Kelley did a video blog detailing her very intense scene with Michael, and she described him quite well. He's such a gentle and loving soul, very kind and caring, but when he goes into top mode, he is so dominant and stern, you wonder where Michael went. It's part of the head space and game for him, and it evokes powerful reactions. I go right into a submissive mode when he's like that. I don't know where it comes from... it's just there.

He put me in position. My head was up against John's side, my face in a pillow, my right arm was thrown across John's legs, and my left arm was tucked under me. And then he began.

It started medium, a steady stream of swats over my thin dress. As sore as I was, these hurt already. Slowly, gradually, the swats grew stronger and stronger until they were loud and hard and soooo painful, and just when I thought I couldn't stand anymore, he backed down into lighter mode, but didn't stop. He leaned down to me. "Good girl," he whispered. "But we're not done; we're just getting started."

He started to pull up my dress. In a reflex action to make it easier, I lifted my hips. But then he leaned down to me again, and this time, he hissed, "I do not need your help. If I want to move you or anything on you, I will do it myself. Do you understand?"

Such a bizarre dichotomy. A part of me wanted to cry right then and there. I felt like a little kid who had been trying to help but then made a mess, and got scolded. But another part of me nodded my head, melted into the couch and stilled, waiting. More, please. No more, please. More, please.

I don't know how long the scene was, or how many more rounds of intense flurries he did. All I remember is mashing my face into the pillow and hollering -- not words, just sounds, animal sounds, pained yet pleasured. John's pant leg was gripped in my fist. I didn't think I could stand any more, but there was no way I was going to stop it. I didn't want to. This was the last scene. This was a man who cared about me. This was going to stay with me, long after it was over. 

When it ended, Michael transitioned immediately, reverting back to his gentle side, caressing and comforting and whispering sweet things to me. I could not move. I could hear the noise of the room, the talking and the playing all around me, but I didn't care. I didn't want to acknowledge any of it. I was as deep into subspace as I've ever gone.

Both Michael and John told me that Sarah G. was leaving, did I want to say goodbye to her? Of course I did... but I just couldn't seem to move. I couldn't say yes, I couldn't say no, and I finally managed to blurt, "I don't know!", still not moving. So John motioned to Sarah to come over, where she knelt down to me. Somehow, I managed to raise myself enough to fling my arms around her and hug her tight, and then flopped back down. Her John came over then and I repeated the same thing, staggering up just enough to hug him, then collapsing again.

I wasn't going anywhere. And Michael knew it. He just waited and let me be. He watched me carefully, checked in with me, talked with John. I kept my face buried for a long time, especially when I felt myself tearing up. Not because I was in pain. But because the weekend was over; this was it. After this, I was going to bed, and then going home. I had to leave my wonderful friends and go back to real life. And I didn't want to. So I kept my head down, shed a few tears and let myself feel.

Finally, I opened my eyes, and turned my head slightly, looking up. "There she is," Michael said. Very slowly, I sat up and then positioned myself between the two men, holding Michael's arm in my right arm and John's in my left. "I've never seen you like this before," Michael murmured. "Are you OK? Are you sure? Is this good?" I guess seeing Miss Mouth turn into a zombie could be a little... disconcerting! But I assured him, again and again, yes yes yes, this was good. This was how I wanted to end my party. I was feeling a lot of emotions, but it was all part of the process.

It was after 2:00, and the room was in full swing with several scenes going on. But I knew I was done. So.... reluctantly, I pulled myself together (Michael buckled my sandals back on for me) and began the process of circling the room, getting my goodbye hugs. And of course, I saved Michael for the last hug before we left the suite. Thank you, dear friend, for adding so much to my party experience. I'm so glad you were there.

When John and I got back to the room, we worked in a companionable silence, packing our things, leaving out only what we needed in the morning, which came way too soon. By 7:30, the car was packed, we'd checked out and gotten coffee, and we hit the road. It took a record four hours for us to get home (and that included one restroom/ice cream stop in Barstow), and John had plenty of time to get to his doctor's appointment.

I returned the rental car. The salesman, who knew we'd gone to Vegas, asked, "So, did you play?" Those were his exact words. I was stupid tired and almost said, "Yes, a whole lot," but then caught myself. By "play," he meant gamble.

Thanks to everyone who helped John and me have a fabulous, healing, happy getaway. And thank you to my love for always being my companion at these gatherings, even though he doesn't play, even though he has to put up with all my nervousness and crazies, even though spanking isn't really his thing, but he loves to make me happy. I really couldn't imagine being at one of these things without him.

So, after all that play, this was my butt on Monday afternoon. You can see where the Tegaderm patch was, and a few spots and marks, but overall, does this look like I had 15 semi-hard to hard scenes?

How it felt, of course, was another story. And the skin is rough. Steve dropped by on Tuesday (no, we did NOT play, thank you), just to catch up and hear all about the party. I lay across his lap and he inspected the damage. "Wow," he said, "this bottom has been busy!" And now on Thursday, it's still sore.

Not that I'm complaining, you understand. :-)

50 Freaks, Part 3

I was due at Bob's room for our shoot at 2:00, so John and I had plenty of time to have a leisurely brunch. Usually we run into someone or another from our party when we go to eat, but we didn't this time, so we just decompressed a bit and chatted. I was checking in with John frequently during this weekend. He was a bit tired, and his right ankle/calf kept swelling, so he had to remain seated a lot of the time with his foot up. Therefore, he didn't mingle as much as he usually does. But he was able to sleep, and overall, he felt OK -- he even went to the hotel gym each morning (which is more than I can say for Miss Lazy here).

I went to Bob's -- he had another party guest operating one of the cameras (the other was on a tripod), but I don't know if I can use his real name and I don't know if he has a scene name, so he will have to remain nameless. Bob wanted to shoot three clips. He has a series called "Love Spankings," where it depicts him spanking women who are enjoying and relishing it, rather than fighting and kicking and so forth. Then he also has a series where he does strappings -- also no banter there, just pure belt action (and reaction). And then for the third, he wanted us to do a husband-and-wife scenario, with me being at my mouthy best. 

The scene was your usual stuff: Hubby and I are coming home from a party, having a raging argument, and the inevitable happens. But we had some fun surprises. Bob was quick on the draw, matching my barbs with his own. At one point during the OTK portion, he was spewing some cheesy spank-talk and I yelled, "Oh, you're going to make me throw up!" Without missing a beat, he reached under the desk, pulled the trash can over to me and said, "Here, knock yourself out." LOL! The can was full and I reached into it and started flinging trash over my shoulder at him (nothing gross, just cardboard packaging inserts and stuff like that).

We hadn't planned for this to be any more than a hand spanking video, but lo and behold, Bob's hand erupted in not one, but two blood blisters. So he stood me up and bent me over the desk for his belt, while I screamed and fussed.

Here's a couple of screen grabs: Hubby and I yelling at each other...

... and me getting the belt.

Bob also put up a brief teaser on Spanking Tube. For whatever reason, I cannot get it to embed here on the blog. So if you want to check it out, go here.

EDIT: Almost forgot this -- for an extra on this clip, Bob filmed a tongue-in-cheek "Public Service Announcement" about getting his hand assed. He held his blistered hand out for the camera and solemnly announced, "I played with Erica Scott, and look what happened to me." He went on for another minute or so, with me shrieking with laughter in the background.

We were done about 3:15, and then I crashed. There was a theme party going on in the suite from 4:00 on, but I knew I couldn't make it. I wanted to be fresh for Saturday night, and I needed to be quiet and sleep for a good long time. So I went back to our room, texted John and then crawled into bed, where I slept until 6:00. Refreshed, I showered, washed my hair and dressed for our dinner at the steak house.

Last year, the steak house gathering had been very popular, but unfortunately, the maximum the banquet room could hold was 20. So Joe and Ten booked it for both Friday and Saturday, and a different group went each time, with a signup sheet for both. John and I ended up at the far end of the table, sitting across from Djinn, Sophie and Kelley, so the conversation was fun and lively. And the food was fabulous -- I got possibly the best piece of salmon I've ever eaten, and a side of sauteed green beans (sorry, Pixie!) with slivered almonds and onions. The bread basket had cheese crisps, a sliced loaf of what looked like French bread and another loaf of dark bread with nuts and raisins in it. The service was amazing. The only slip-up was our waiter forgot to bring John the glass of Cabernet he ordered. So when he brought it, he said, "It's on the house." Just because John had to wait for it for a few minutes! Now that's service.

We had a double birthday celebration in the suite later, with two cakes, for Katarina and Zoey (LostKitten). Zoey's birthday had actually been a month or so ago, but she'd posted a horrible story about having a birthday party (vanilla) and no one showed up except her mother and her boyfriend. She was so sad, and we were sad for her. How could anyone be so mean to such an adorable little girl? (For those who don't know her, she's 22, tiny and so very pretty.) Anyway, Joe got a text from her bf ItsNature before they were about to arrive at the suite, so we gathered around near the door, with Alex holding out this ginormous sheet cake so the first thing Zoey would see was the cake with "Happy Birthday, Kitten" on it, and when she walked in, we all yelled "Surprise!" Her reaction was priceless -- she actually didn't know it was for her, at first, and looked around and behind her. When it dawned on her -- "Wow, this is for ME!" -- she blushed bright pink, put her hands over her face and teared up. I wish someone had filmed that... one of the sweetest sights of the weekend.

I didn't play a whole lot on Saturday night, but my two scenes were top quality and memorable. First, no party weekend is complete without a double flogging from Fineous, Flogger Extraordinaire. I watched him doing his thing with Sarah Gregory, and later when he was sitting at the bar eating and chatting, I sidled up to him and said, "When's my turn?" "As soon as I finish my sandwich," he assured me. We found an empty bed and I stripped down to my thong. Oh my... it was so delicious. I think he went longer than he ever has before, and I enjoyed every stroke of it. Afterward, he always gives a lovely massage with lotion, and John, who had been watching, came over and joined in, so I had two pairs of strong hands on me. Life was perfection at that moment.

Michael had told me we were going to play every night of the party, to which I heartily agreed, so at some point (my memory of the timeline is starting to blur), he took me into one of the bedrooms. The bed was taken, so he sat on the ottoman of the armchair and pulled me down over his lap there. Again, just a hand spanking, but I swear, that man's hand is tireless and indestructible. I was getting quite sore by then, so implements weren't really necessary. Unfortunately, we weren't able to stay in the room for aftercare, because a whip was being cracked and it was noisy, plus we didn't want to be in the way. So I half-walked, half-staggered into the living room, where he sat in one of the plush chair and took me into his lap to cuddle. After I'd settled in and had my head lolling on his shoulder, he sheepishly whispered to me, "I hate to say this, but I have to get up -- I have to pee." LOL! Oh well. Aftercare-us Interruptus happens. Michael is usually one of the kings of aftercare, so I could certainly overlook a call of nature.

As the hour grew late, I settled into one of the chairs with John, just relaxing, chatting and laughing. He and YS got into a lively discussion about the differences between men and women (besides the obvious), and I was laughing so hard, I'm sure they could hear me all the way down the hall. Then Beth joined in, and she was giving YS a hard time about his cussing. Come to think of it, the man does love his s-bombs! So, now that I was aware of it, I started giving him noise about it too. When he said, "Ellee is smart as shit!", I answered something like, "I didn't know that shit possessed intellect." Then John quipped, "Where do you think they got the expression 'shit for brains'?"

Yes, we are classy. Good times.

Before we knew it, it was after 3:00 AM. Reluctantly we said our good nights -- Strict Dave's Punishment Court was at 11:00 the next morning. I think we got to sleep around 4:00. (Yes, I know a lot of you freaks pulled all-nighters. This girl just can't do that anymore.)

Still have Sunday coming!

50 Freaks, Part 2

This writing was delayed a bit. First, I came home and got bombed with rush jobs from one of my clients. I always appreciate work, but this was one day I just wanted to decompress! Oh well. And second, I ended up going to the doctor today to get antibiotics. Why? Well, remember how my nostrils were dried out and cracking due to our weeks of dry weather? Apparently, some sort of nasty bacteria got in there. My left nostril started hurting yesterday morning, and today I woke up with the inside of it nearly swelled shut and the outside rigid and red. Lovely! So I have an infected nostril. How stupid. It hurts worse than my butt, and it's not fun hurt!

But back to the fun. Friday morning, John got me up and showered, and although it was lunchtime, I didn't want to eat too much before heading to shoot with Sarah and John, so I just got a bagel and coffee, then gathered up my stuff and went to their room.

Sarah wanted one lengthy clip for her site, and John wanted a shorter one for his, plus a couple of very brief POV videos (he has a section on his site where the model talks to the camera, or is spanked briefly without showing the top, only the bottom). They had fun ideas -- for Sarah, I was to dress up and be John's wife, at a nice hotel with him, and he's angry at me because I gambled away a bunch of his cash. And then for John, I also played his wife, but I was lying around in lingerie, pretending to be sick so I could get out of a dinner with his business partner, whom I hated.

We shot the gambling one first -- John had laid out a daunting selection of implements on the bed, and my first words when I came back in were, "What the @#$% is THIS??" After some lecturing, he had me choose three implements. I immediately took the heaviest one and flung it onto the other bed, then selected the hairbrush, a leather strap and the crop. We had a nice long hand spanking and then progressed to the three toys. It was a lively scene with lots of good banter.

After that, we shot the two POVs and then the scene for John's site. I was sprawled on the bed in a t-shirt and panties when I should have been getting ready for the business dinner, whining about how I didn't feel well. John was skeptical, knowing that I would do or say anything to get out of this, so he threatened to take my temperature rectally until I confessed that I was faking it. And we know what happens to bad wives who lie to their husbands. (sigh)

What a blast! I don't have any pictures yet, but hopefully Sarah will send me some. They were a great team and we were finished in about two hours, I think.

Since Joe and Ten's suite was open 24/7 and people were wandering in and out at all hours, we went in there during the afternoon after my shoot and hung out until we were ready for a nap. We went back around 8:00, but a lot of people had gone to dinner and the room was quiet, so we decided to go to our usual, Café Siena, and have dinner.

That night, back in the suite (which was hopping by 10 PM), I had three more scenes -- one with Michael, one with YS and one with Joe. Michael's was a hand spanking, not too hard (he knew I was a little sore), but lovely and rhythmic and intense all the same. Afterward, we stayed on the bed for a while, me sprawled across his leg and him lying back on the bed, coming down from the high. With Joe, I got to experience his incredible double strap technique -- he chose two pairs of leather straps and kept alternating them, striking me with both (one in each hand). How he does it, I have no idea -- his aim was perfect, all the way through. Never wrapped, nothing too high or too low, just absolute perfection. My first words after I stood up were, "OK, Joe, I'm moving to Indiana!" (He and Ten live there.) I do love that man.

My scene with YS was delightful -- he is cute as hell and very polite (asked before taking my panties down, checked in, asked before doing six extra hard strap strokes at the end), but he has this wicked way of snickering when you react to the blows. I really enjoyed him. Beth cracked me up; after our scene, she found me, grabbed me by the hand and asked how was it, was he nice, was it good, did I like it, really really really? So cute! She wants her friends to like her sweetie. No problems there. :-)

The rest of the evening is a blur of talking and laughing and milling about and enjoying everyone. Joe had a stack of pizzas delivered at 1 AM and everyone was eating (I declined, since I didn't want to go to bed with a belly full of pizza). I then had one of the weekend's many delicious moments. To backtrack: I had told Alex all about Michael, and she said she had seen him before, but hadn't officially met him, and that she'd like to do so (and play with him, too). I asked her if she'd like me to help orchestrate that, and she smiled and nodded. So the night before, I had introduced them. He went right to work, taking her hand and whispering things in her ear, getting into her head space. I watched her eyes glaze over and I knew she was hooked, so I sat next to Paul and jokingly suggested that perhaps we should leave the room! When Michael was done with his machinations, he walked away, and Alex wandered over to us, looking dazed and blissful. "Well, that was successful," she murmured. "Ah," I crowed, "my work here is done!"

So cut to Friday night -- Alex came over to me, munching on a slice of pizza, and sat on the arm of the sofa talking to me. In the middle of our conversation, Michael wandered over. Without saying anything, he took hold of her wrist and held it firmly. She froze, the pizza crust in her fingers, and he whispered, "Finish. Your. Pizza." I watched her trying to eat that crust and I knew her stomach was up in her throat by now, so I said, "Would you like me to take that for you?" Wordlessly, she handed it to me, and off they went.

Seeing her face after they came back was highly gratifying. :-) And yes, he had a good time too. I love setting my friends up with great tops!

I think we stayed in the suite until around 3:00 AM, and then reluctantly said good night. After all, there were still two whole days left, and I had another shoot the next afternoon, so it was time for some ZZZZs.

To be continued...

50 Freaks, Part 1

Back home. I have napped and unpacked, caught up a bit on FetLife, and I think I'm ready to begin recounting our trip. Hate to say this, but I don't have pictures. I don't know why I didn't take any... it just never came up. And not many others seemed to be taking pics either, not as much as last time. I ended up doing a couple of shoots, so there will be pictures from those, and Beth took a quick video plus a couple of shots of YS giving me thigh turkeys, but that's it. I regret that, but I guess I was too busy having fun to think about photos.

Thursday we had a flawless ride and arrived at the Suncoast early. Aaaaand of course, our room wasn't ready yet! So we piled up our stuff near the coffee shop and sat waiting for about a half-hour, then trekked up to our room. Our group had pretty much the entire 9th floor, which kept us all together and was lovely, and we were just a few doors down from the Presidential Suite, where all the action was. After a nap, cleaning up and changing, we headed for 960 to greet the Thursday arrivals.

Thursday night is a blur of hugs and squeals and more hugs. This party was bigger than last year's 50 Freaks -- we had 55 then, and this time, I think it was closer to 80. There were some people I knew from online whom I hadn't met yet and others whom I didn't know at all. But the core group was there with some additions, and we could tell early on it was going to be a good mix. Heading up the festivities were Joe (DrLectr) and Ten, who both gave us enthusiastic greetings. Ten actually picked me up and spun me around -- that woman is strong! :-) Every time I turned around, I was hugging someone, including the cutest of cute Alex Reynolds with Paul Kennedy, Princess Kelley, the aforementioned Beth and YS with YS's adorable wife Ellee, Strict Dave and his lovely Stacykins, Sandy and Rad, newly engaged Lily Starr and Robert Wolf, Katarina and Heinz (who used to run Spanking Court), Djinn and Sophie, James and Korey Mae Johnson of Stormy Night Publications, Richard Windsor, Dana Specht, and so many more.

My first scene of the weekend was with my beloved friend Michael (InspectHerHide on Fet), a quick but raucous scene in one of the bedrooms with Michael keeping up a running monologue about all sorts of nonsense while alternating hard flurries with softer ones, depending on what he was rambling about. I laughed through the entire scene and it was a perfect ice-breaker. I played a lot this weekend and some of the days/times are blurry, but I do know that I played with Michael five times in four days, way more than I did with anyone else.

He joined John and me for a quick bite at Café Siena, and when we came back to the room, things were hopping. More hugs and shrieks and excited greetings. Sarah Gregory was there with her man, John from AAA Spanking, and after we hugged and jumped up and down like schoolgirls, she asked if I'd like to shoot with them. I didn't see that coming -- I didn't even know she'd be at this gathering -- so that was a treat! I was planning to shoot with BobtheDJ on Saturday for his "Uncle Bob's Woodshed" clip site, so we agreed to do our shoot on Friday afternoon. There was to be one long clip for her site, one long clip for his, and then two quickie clips (about five minutes each) for his POV collection.

Thursday night, to the best of my muddled memory, I did one more scene with Michael and that was it. I was determined this time to pace myself; after all, I had two shoots ahead of me and lots of people with whom I wanted to play. Well... I managed to keep to that for the first night, but it all fell by the wayside after that, as usual! John and I did get to bed at a decent hour that night, I think... maybe about 2:00. Of course, I was too keyed up to get to sleep for a long while, but that's pretty typical for the first night at a weekend party. I wasn't due at Sarah and John's suite until 1:00 the next day, so at least I could sleep in a bit.

Lots more to come.

Vegas, here we come!

I got up at the ungodly hour of 5:15 AM, and have been preparing and packing and getting a last-minute rush job to a client. Now I have a half-hour to spare and am having my coffee before I hit the road to go pick John up. Dropping a quick atheist's prayer to the Freeway Gods that there aren't any accidents or issues on Highway 15. It's a 4 1/2-hour drive, but since it's not a holiday weekend and it will be off peak-traffic time, we should be OK. Actually, we've driven to Vegas countless times and only once did we get stuck when an accident occurred. But of course, I worry about that every single time.

I am way overpacked. When I go to Shadow Lane it's a little easier, because I have planned outfits, but here, it's going to be very casual and I wanted choices. I brought two dresses, but mostly it's yoga pants and leggings and comfortable shirts. At first I tried to plan out which panties to bring, and then thought, who am I kidding?? It's a spanking gathering! Panties are the headliners! So I snatched up fistfuls from the drawer and simply stuffed them into the bag. I think I may have about 12-15 pairs for four days.

Phone charger? Check. Camera and charger? Check. Pillow? Check. (I hate hotel pillows. Too poufy.) Makeup bag? Check. (Yes, I left that home one time. Not fun. Had to rebuy everything.) 

John is feeling a bit better. When he went to the cardiologist on Monday, she recommended a diuretic to relieve the fluid pressure -- said it would feel better on his heart and maybe help him sleep better too. Sure enough... he took one, and on that night, he slept for a total of seven hours. And it wasn't a fluke; he slept well the next night too. So he's feeling... well, human, instead of like a zombie. Also, the same day we come back (Monday), he has an appointment with the sleep study people. We'll have to leave Vegas very early that morning, but it's OK. So things are looking much more positive for the weekend.

I can't wait to see everyone. I can't wait for tons of hugs. I do look forward to the play, but that's really the least of it. I just want to be with our friends and forget about the real world for a while. 

Oh, and did I mention I'm shooting this weekend? For "Uncle Bob's Woodshed," a Clips4Sale store. Two clips, easy, fun.

I won't be posting any new blogs while I'm there (too hard from a phone), but I'll be keeping up with comments and emails, as always.

Hopefully I will have lots of fun reports for you, and pictures too! Have a great weekend, y'all.

Brief, but needed

Today's scene with Steve was much shorter than usual; we kept it to a lengthy hand spanking OTK, no implements. Since I'm heading to Vegas on Thursday for four days of play, I needed to keep it on the lighter side today. But it was timely. I needed some stress release.

I have not been talking much about John lately, just bits and pieces here and there. But it's been rough for him the past few months. And rough for me, witnessing it.

On Friday when he went to the periodontist for his dental implant, the doc refused to do it, because John's blood pressure was alarmingly high. Not the systolic, but the diastolic (the lower number). This may not sound like much, but it is for him. John has never had high BP. In fact, his runs rather low.

As his heart valve continues to deteriorate, the rest of his body is struggling and straining to keep him functioning. Hence the higher BP, and the shortness of breath. The man who used to cycle for miles effortlessly now puffs and pants after he wipes down the shower walls. His ankles swell.

But even worse than the heart condition is the recent development -- sleep apnea. His is bad. He really doesn't sleep anymore; he catnaps. Sometimes he can sleep sitting up propped on pillows, other times not. He gets so tired that he catnaps with his head down on his desk at work, on breaks. When he does sleep, he snorts and gasps and makes horrible noises.

So why isn't he seeing to this? Because his HMO is dragging its heels. They want to put him on a CPAP, but he hates the CPAP. They put one on him during the sleep study and he found it intolerable. Instead, he wants to go the alternate route: a dental device (called MAD, or mandibular advancement device). But he'd have to go out of network for that, and the @#$%ing HMO isn't cooperating. Sure, he could have his dentist make one for him on his own... his dentist actually specializes in sleep apnea treatment. But that would cost $3500.

Therefore, the apnea thing has been on hold for weeks, months, while he battles this out and waits to hear from this doctor and that one. And meanwhile, I'm watching him grow slowly but steadily worse. Sleep deprivation is one of the most damaging things for the body. And there's no way he could recover from open-heart surgery if he can't sleep. Resolving this issue is crucial.

After his dental procedure was cancelled last Friday, I was truly frightened. I told him maybe he shouldn't go to Vegas. He insists he will be fine, but I have my doubts. He says we both need this trip. I agree -- I know I sure as hell do. But I honestly don't know if I can put my fears aside enough to relax and enjoy for a few days. 

I didn't realize just how stressed out I was until Steve arrived this morning. He asked if I was excited, and I said no, I was nervous and worried. Why?? he wanted to know. And I started crying.

Steve was a wonderful, calming voice of reason. I told him that nagging at John, insisting he take care of certain things, was not an option. That just brings on an argument and more stress. So I need to get control of my own emotions, take a couple of steps back, and determine what's really real and what I'm horrible-izing. I have visions of being stuck in Vegas and John having heart failure or a stroke and my not knowing what the hell to do. The odds are highly against that; he's gone this long, and it will basically be a stress-free few days. I worry about his lifting the luggage and stuff. He never lets me help. This time, he will have to. And as for everything else, he's a big boy. He needs to step up for his own health. I can't do it for him. And driving myself crazy won't help anything.

So. I have two assignments. The first is to make sure John carries the power-of-attorney document with us to Vegas, so that if God forbid anything does happen, I'll be able to show proof that I can make decisions. And then the second is to relax and have fun.

After that, we had our scene. And of course, I wept more. But it was good for me. I was like a pressure cooker ready to blow. Sorry, no pictures this time. Just wasn't in that state of mind.

Thursday morning, John and I will hit the road. And it will be good. I am going to play to my heart's content, but even more important, I'm going to see friends. I'm going to get hugs and cuddles and love and laughs. John will have a few days off and can retreat to our room whenever he needs to. I will take a day at a time and do my best to stay in the moment.

Thank you, Steve, my top, my rock. And please, please take good care of yourself. I have two wonderful men in my life, but I need at least one of them to be healthy, or I will lose what's left of my mind!

Thanks for reading. There will be fun and playful entries in the near future!

Must. Go. To. Gym.

It is President's Day morning and the freaking gym is going to be packed because it's a holiday. But I can't let that deter me. I must endure the long waits at the machines and the fucktards who sit on said machines and text.

Because considering the two boxes of See's chocolate that John gave me, plus the fettuccine and the German chocolate cake I indulged in over the weekend, my target is going to be substantially larger for the upcoming party if I don't blow off some calories.

I think I've figured out why Kim's behind is so... noticeable. What should have been her brain is crammed in there as well.

Hope everyone had a lovely Valentine's Day weekend. Tomorrow I get to play; today I have to pay. Come on, Erica. Move it.

Happy ♥ Day

Yeah, I know. It's a commercial holiday and it makes uncoupled people feel crappy. I know. I remember. But I can't help myself. After years and years of feeling like Charlie Brown on Valentine's Day, I fully enjoy the sweetness of celebrating love in my life. Even the most relentless of cynics can have a sappy moment now and then.

Unfortunately, John is having dental work done today, poor guy. He had that bad tooth pulled a few months back, and now that the area has healed, the next step is putting in the implant, which is what he's having done as I type. From what he's been told, this part of the procedure is nowhere near as miserable as the extraction and the bone graft, which he's already endured. So I'm hoping he won't be too uncomfortable. We're hoping that he'll be up for a nice dinner tomorrow night. But if we have to bypass the celebrations, it's OK. Next Thursday, we head to Vegas for four days, to convene with spanko friends for a small-ish private party. That will more than compensate. We are both looking forward to the getaway.

Meanwhile, he made sure to send my roses early. Aren't they splendid?

Also, Steve surprised me last Tuesday by showing up at my door with a pretty arrangement of red and white flowers. "No roses," he assured. "I leave those for John." Thoughtful, yes? John doesn't mind if a top gives me flowers, but he doesn't like it when another man gives me roses. I totally get that. 

So I had two pretty bouquets decorating my place this week. I am feeling very much loved.

(Pardon all the clutter in the background.)

Finally, for those like me who are a bit meh about the Olympics, here's a little funny for you, posted by none other than George Takei on Twitter:

Wishing all my friends happy hearts, chocolates, red bottoms and sweet kisses. And if you hate the holiday, screw it -- go do something fun for yourself and forget about it.

And have a great weekend, y'all.

Lucky #13?

Last Friday in my Potpourri post, I commented about how I'm too OCD to end on the #13. Seemed harmless enough, since many people don't like that number. But apparently, Steve likes it, and he took exception to my not liking it.

Tops. They'll pick on anything.

So yesterday was all about coercing convincing me that the number 13 is good. After his many attempts to get me to see things his way, he decided to take a different tactic. He was going to create a very pleasurable session that I could, from now on, envision when I think of the number 13.

Hmmm. Well, that's different.

It started out as usual, with him being Mr. Toppy. He wouldn't even let me take my stupid socks off, even though I think they look dorky in photographs.

We shot three separate videos. In the first one, it was all about my resistance vs. his insistence. But by the second one, the tide turned.

He was using several implements -- the Cane-iac strap, the heart-shaped and Lexan paddles, the cane. But he was employing a rapid-fire technique, not too hard, in long flurries that left me breathless and, well, not at all displeased. :-) I can't explain what the feeling was like, but it was amazing. I don't know how he was able to go so fast and keep aim, but he did, and it became a whirlwind of sensation. 

And lo and behold, by the time we were near the end, when he said once again that I could now associate #13 with euphoria, I mumbled incoherently, "Sure, whatever you say."

I won't bore you with all three videos, so I'm posting the first one -- the resistance phase. This one has more of our usual banter, so I figured it was the most fun. Yes, it's totally goofy (13 psi? WTF??) Don't try to make sense of it, just enjoy the silliness.




However, here's a screen grab from the second one. I'll let you be the judge -- do you think he was convincing me?

Today is a good day. I'm still blissed from yesterday. I have work. And my bit of writing on FetLife is currently at 1019 "loves" and still climbing. I had no idea that topic would resonate with so many. Oh, and out of 229 comments, only two naysayers! That's pretty amazing for FetLife. ;-)

Happy hump day. And to two golden greats, Sid Caesar and Shirley Temple, RIP and thank you. ♥

A little something I posted on FetLife

What's good enough for FetLife is certainly good enough for my blog, no? Most of my readers already know this about me -- I hate being called names. Please don't misunderstand me here; I am NOT putting down those who fetishize/eroticize certain words I consider degrading. My beef is with people (men, in my case) who assume it's OK to use those words without talking about them with someone first.

So here goes:

Do. Not. Call Me Names.

OK, guys. Here's the deal. I'm not naive; I'm fully aware there are many female fetish enthusiasts out there who get off on humiliation, degradation, being called unflattering names. Fine. If that's what they like, that's what they like.

I, however, don't happen to be one of them. And I'm not alone. So don't even think about calling a woman an ugly name unless you are damn sure that she wants you to. Because, along with poor technique, the wrong words can kill a scene as well.

Years ago, John and I tried playing with a couple at a dungeon. He and the woman hit it off well, no pun intended. The man and me? Notsomuch. First time playing with me, he slapped my butt a few times, then grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanked it hard, and hissed in my ear, "How do you like that, you little BITCH?"

I didn't. Scene over.

We write and write and write about do's and don'ts in our scene, and get comments like, "Don't people know that? Isn't that just common sense? Kink 101?" Apparently not. As I like to say, common sense is frighteningly uncommon. A lot of misguided folks out there adopt a sort of cookie-cutter behavior -- what works for one should work for everyone.

So I won't speak for women in general; I know better. This is just for little old me, and for any other women with whom it resonates:

I am not a bitch.

I am not a whore.
I am not a slut. The only man who gets to call me "slut" is John, and that's because he does it jokingly -- my standard reply is "but I'm your slut."
I am not a c-word. Please refrain from using that word in my presence. I hate it more than any other word in the English language. I was called that frequently by an abusive, horrible person in my life, and no one will ever call me that again.
I am not a pig.
I am not dirty, filthy or nasty. Naughty, yes.
I am not an inferior being who needs to be put in her place.
I am not a fucktoy or a cumdump.

Again, some women will like any or all of the above. But never assume so; find out for sure. Unless, of course, you enjoy getting ripped a new one. :-)

Friday potpourri

It's been a while since I've posted one of my lists of random thoughts. But I find myself in kind of a sad and scattered mood today. Perhaps it's left over from yesterday's revolting blog discovery. Maybe I'm a bit weepy myself after seeing Jay Leno's tearful farewell last night. I'm much like Sheldon Cooper that way -- change makes me uncomfortable and unhappy. Or maybe because today is 50 years to the day when the Beatles arrived in the States; that has me feeling wistfully nostalgic (not to mention incredibly old). So, I am sharing what's floating through the windmills of my mind, in no particular order.

1. I will miss Jay a lot. Of course, I still miss Johnny.

2. In Jay's farewell show, several greats showed up to see him off, including Billy Crystal, Oprah Winfrey, Carol Burnett, Sheryl Crow, and Kim Kardashian. Wait... what? Which one of these does not belong??

3. I know the word "behoove" means "to be to one's advantage," but it still makes me think of horses.

4. It's a good thing we didn't have the current mania of amalgamating couples' names (Brangelina, Kimye) back in the golden age of movies; we would have had Myrniam, Dickabeth and Hepcy.

4a. There are always exceptions, however. Desilu was pretty cool.

5. Why do we have cardinal rules? Why not oriole rules, or ruby-throated hummingbird rules?

6. Last night, John said to me, "I don't believe in God, but I believe in angels, because I have you." Prior to that, he had been teasing me relentlessly. Way to disarm a woman, smart guy. ♥

7. People complain about how a lot of rock and roll has gibberish for lyrics. Newsflash: nonsense lyrics in songs go back way before the rock era. For example, our parents' (or grandparents') generation had such lyrical gems as "mairzy doats and dozey doats" and Frank Sinatra's "Dooby dooby doo."

7a. That being said, Miley Cyrus's "La da dee da DEEE, we love to parTEEE" is particularly insipid.

7b. I don't remember when "party" became a verb, but I wish it hadn't.

8. I know I'll probably be fired on for this, but I have no interest in the Olympics. I'll watch them at John's because he has them on all the time, but at my house the next couple of weeks, it's going to be lots of repeats on other channels, or DVDs.

9. I appreciate any work I get, I really do. But I just finished reading a medical course about pressure ulcers... complete with pictures. I really think I should get nausea pay.

10. By the way, did you know it's incorrect to say, "I'm nauseous"? The true definition of "nauseous" is "causing nausea." Therefore, one should say "I'm nauseated." However, it's said incorrectly so often, it's probably now accepted as correct. (sigh)

11. And in that vein, if I live to be a 100-year-old proofreader, I will never accept people saying "more importantly" when they mean "more important." That one is like chewing on tin foil for me.

12. I bumped my shin 2 1/2 weeks ago, and still have the remnants of a bruise there. And yet, I get my backside pummeled every week and nary a sign remains. So not right.

13. Last night's episode of Big Bang Theory made me smile. Every time I think I can't love that show more, they raise the bar.

14. I really don't have any more thoughts, but I had to add this one because my OCD wouldn't allow me to end on the number 13.

Have a great weekend, y'all.

Beside myself

No jokes, no funny rants this time. I am seeing every shade of red and I need a voice of reason, some calming words, advice, whatever is out there.

In cruising the spanko blogosphere and the various Tumblr photo sites, one link led to another and I found myself on one of the most disgusting Tumblr blogs I've ever seen.

No, I will not link it here. I don't want to guide any more traffic to this filth. But I will describe it. In short, it's a photo site that promotes hatred and degradation of women. All women are inferior, we're whores, we're fucktoys and nothing more, and deserve to be treated like crap.

Just one of the charming examples: A gif of a naked woman, legs spread, weeping in pain while a man whips her genitalia fiercely. The caption: "If she has a c***, she deserves to be punished for it."

No, it's not just about my feelings for that word. I understand the kink of humiliation, about how some people get into that. But I don't see this blog as being about kink. It's about misogyny.

I have seen plenty of photos and blogs and posts in my time that turn me off, get me riled up. But I have never wanted to retaliate against a site as much as I do now. I want to report this. I want to see this person take some heat.

Am I out of line? Is this simply another case of "freedom of speech," and there's nothing that can be done? Is there a cap on the amount of hate-mongering allowed out there? Can Tumblr blogs be reported, and if so, how? If I can, should I? Or should I just pretend I never saw it and leave it alone?

Breathe, Erica. Breathe.

An early celebration

This coming Saturday, February 8, is Steve's birthday. I figured rather than wait and celebrate with him after the fact, I'd surprise him a bit and spring it on him early.

He got a rare evening free, so we planned our get-together last night. It nearly didn't happen. My block -- in fact, my general area -- is notorious for the dearth of parking. Too many apartments with single-car spaces and tenants with two cars, plus a whole lot of red curbs, for whatever reason. So people consider themselves lucky when they find a space quickly. Usually they have to drive up and down the block and into the surrounding ones. But last night, Steve absolutely could not find a space. He drove around and around for nearly an hour, calling me every few minutes in frustration. I finally told him to park in the public lot at the end of my block and he could move it later.

Since it was after nine and neither of us had eaten, we went to get a bite at our favorite deli. After we got back, he went out to move his car, and while he did so, I put a candle in the birthday jumbo cupcake I'd bought and got plates, forks and napkins.

The birthday boy was very surprised and pleased with his treat! You'll have to take my word for it that he was smiling.

What's a birthday without spanking, right? But not for the top, no no. So naturally, yours truly stepped up for it. I'm so giving that way.

He'd seen the photo I'd taken for last week's blog, where I'd stripped naked, and informed me that I would be spanked as I was in that photo. So, after we had each had a piece of cupcake and he'd opened his card, he bade me to "get ready for bed," so to speak.

I didn't bother telling him that I usually wear pajamas to bed. Didn't think that would fly.

Oh, bedtime spankings are so very lovely, aren't they? I did struggle a bit with this one, perhaps because I was tired -- it hurt a lot. Even his hand felt like a brick! Whereas last week I'd been a seemingly endless fountain of sass, spraying him with sarcasm, last night I hunkered into the bed and was quiet, save for my whimpers and moans into the pillow. A couple of times I reared upward or rolled away, but then immediately settled back. "Come back to me," he crooned, his hand gently but firmly holding me in position. His swats remained crisp, but he lightened them slightly, throwing in an extra hard one every once in a while. I eventually melted under the crop.

He then put me to bed. Blissful, dreamless sleep was mine last night. And I never did put my PJs on. Just used an extra blanket and snuggled deep, enjoying the sensual feelings on my skin.

Happy early birthday to my wonderful top. ♥

I love words

Being a linguist, I love learning new and unusual words. And if they are words that have anything to do with TTWD, all the better.

Imagine my delight at discovering the word "callipygian," which means "having well-shaped buttocks." Really.

And then last week, I came across the word "rutilant." Any guesses on what that might mean?

Want a hint? Its meaning is similar to "rubicund." (Yeah, I know, big help there.)

Want another hint?

Rutilant means "having a reddish glow." Let it not be said that this blog isn't educational!

Hope everyone had a nice weekend and enjoyed the Stupor Super Bowl. :-)