Just because

I'm always happy to see Steve. But sometimes, I really, really need to Steve. Just because.

Because he is so much more than my top. He is my friend and my confidant, and at times, my rock. Because sometimes, life feels like shifting sand under my feet, and I find stability under his hand, or in his arms. 

I don't like ceding control, or showing weakness. But he gives me permission with his presence. 

John and I often talk about what makes a perfect scene. He says, for him, an ideal scene is a blend of physical, mental, and sexual. The physical activity needs to be present and handled well, but without the head space, it's just pain. Also without the sexual arousal, it's just pain.

I modify that a little, I think. Maybe it's just semantics. But I prefer physical, emotional, and either sexual or sensual. Emotional, for me, encompasses so much more than mental -- not just my head space, but all the feelings I'm experiencing. And while some would say that any spanking is sexual, simply by its nature (intimate contact, bare flesh, etc.), I don't always think of it as sexual, especially in party play. But sensual it is for sure. The touch, the caress, the slap, the hand in my hair. The sensuality of the varying touches feeds my skin hunger.

Today, after talking for a while, I decided to set the mood by surprising him with Secretary -- he'd never seen it, and I picked up a copy on Amazon. I know the scene community is divided on this film and I won't belabor all the old arguments -- the movie is 12 years old, after all. But happily, Steve loved it. 

Slight tangent here -- I have a question, for those who have seen the movie (more than once, as I have) and remember specific scenes. Do you recall the part at the end when Lee is sitting at Mr. Grey's desk in the wedding dress, refusing to move, and is slowly growing delirious with hunger and thirst as three days pass? Her fiancé came to see her in the beginning, and that was real. But remember how a parade of people came in to see her as she sat there in her stupor? Her mother, her father, her doctor, her brother-in-law, the paralegal, Grey's ex, and a strange woman with a stack of books on feminism? Were those people's visits for real, or were they in Lee's imagination? I tend to believe the latter.

Anyway... we had a deliciously intense session after that, one where I felt completely in submissive mode. (Must have been the movie.) At one point, I remember him rubbing his palm over my lower thighs, teasing, making it seem as if he were going to strike me there. Which would hurt like hell. But all I could think was, "I accept. I'm ready if that's what you choose to do."

He didn't. But I thought he would.

He liked the dress I was wearing, and wanted pictures of it.

The skirt portion is short, with a sheer, floor-length covering. 

I'd mostly faded by the time we got to these, but it's OK.

"By the way," he said after the film. "You can be a bad girl all you want, but no cockroaches, OK?" I assured him that's not my style. I can't get near one of those things without screaming like a girl. No worms, either. 

Oh, and look what he brought for me:

No special occasion, no particular reason. Just because. :-)

Yes, really

John and I were in the mall on Saturday night, picking up some things for him. It's been a long time since he felt good enough to walk around a mall, so we took full advantage. While in the men's underwear department, getting t-shirts, I saw this and just had to take a photo.

Yes, really. Spanx for men. (Click on the photo for a larger version.)

Y'all have heard of Spanx, right? (How could you not?) Famous compression undergarments for women, so we can eliminate all signs of imperfection in our tight dresses and slinky clothes, pack that cellulite in like sausage casing, and look like movie stars. We can't breathe, all that compression can actually cause organ damage over time, but what price vanity? 

But... for men?? This I did not know.

"Firms Chest"! "Narrows Waistline"! "Targeted Compression"! Oh, and see that circle thingamajig in the lower right? Here's a slightly blurry, but still readable closeup of that image:

Yup, that's a Gut Gauge. You can choose your level of compression power. Apparently, this package contains the Turbo Trimmer.

This package should come with the fine print: "Oh, you are so not getting laid tonight if you wear this."

Stop the madness, people. Put down the deep-fried bacon pizza and the triple mocha latte, extra-whip, and get to the gym if you don't like what you see in the mirror. I guaran-damn-tee it will work better than packing yourself into these things. And, guys? In the 1950s, would you have worn a girdle? No? I rest my case. This is carrying metrosexual too far.

(P.S. Any of you grin and giggle inwardly whenever you say Spanx? Yup, me too.)

Thursday miscellanea

Note to self: After working out Monday, then engaging in intense spanking scenes both Monday and Tuesday, working out on Wednesday was probably not the best idea.

My body hates me right now. It did last night, too. But it was a good hurt, at least. 

It was good to see Steve on Tuesday. It had been two weeks, so we had a lot to catch up on. I told him all about my fun with Pandora and Alex and Paul, and he told me about Coachella. I was tired and a bit tender, so we kept it to hand spanking, no implements this time. But it was a hard one, one that had me hollering into the couch cushion toward the end. He sensed that I just wanted to be held, so he said, "We don't have to do anything else tonight if you don't want to. It's up to you." Usually I'm up for as much play as possible, but not this time. So we just relaxed, cuddled and talked some more.

I made him laugh with all the naughty interpretations of the various religious holidays at this time of year. (And yes, he is a practicing Catholic.) He wanted to take my Sharpie and write on my butt cheeks: "Ass Wednesday + Palm Sunday = Happy (K)Easter." "Um... no," I said. "I don't think I have enough butt for all that!" "I'd write small," he insisted. But fortunately, he forgot about all that.

For those who have been asking, John is stable these days. He's sleeping a bit better, the leg swelling is under control, and he's still chipping away at the list of things that need to be done. And he's prioritizing himself and his health, which is new. Last weekend, he got one of those typical last-minute notices his family is famous for. We went to his sister's restaurant for a late lunch on Saturday, and she announced, "Easter dinner at [his other sister's] house tomorrow at 4:00!" Oh, really? When was his other sister planning on letting him know about that? And of course, if he said yes, then he'd no doubt get a call from that sister, suckering him into playing chauffeur for their mother, which is exactly what she did last Christmas (when he got a similar last-minute invitation). I braced myself, setting my teeth, waiting to hear him say OK, knowing it would throw off his whole Sunday routine -- and then I heard him say, "Yeah... well, I don't think that's gonna happen." I thought maybe the next day he'd change his mind, but he didn't go. I had to restrain myself from squealing with glee. Those asshats! Where do they get off, tossing him these zero-hour notices, like he has no life and he's just waiting for their crumbs? Meh.

At brunch on Sunday, I asked him if he felt sad about the Easter thing. He just shrugged. "Nah... I'd rather go home and take a nap." If it was bothering him, he didn't let on. I know it hurts him sometimes, deep down, that his family didn't turn out to be what he thought it would be. Which is why I'm relieved that I let go of that ideal years ago. Who needs that kind of heartbreak, really?

And finally, just because this is so effing ridiculous and made me laugh like crazy (and I found it on Facebook, of all places), I'm sharing this with you.

You're welcome. Happy Thursday.

EDIT: Since today's blog was a hodgepodge, here's another random item I'm tossing in. Let's have a show of hands: Who'd like to see this asshole's cattle prod put to a very special use?

"Dreams" shoot!

Plus lots more fun with Alex and Pandora, and Paul too!

Pandora was shooting with Clare Fonda and others yesterday, so I came by Alex and Paul's house at 5:00 to hang out with them until Pandora returned, which was around 6:00. We chatted for a bit, then got down to the business of shooting. I say "business" tongue in cheek, because for me, it's pure joy.

We decided to go with Kelly's suggestion: Paul's a workaholic, and I'm his woefully neglected mate, trying desperately to get his attention by dressing up in sexy lingerie. When that fails and I can't get him to tear his eyes away from the damned report he's brought home, I tear up the report. I then get plenty of attention, but not the kind I wanted.

What a fun scene that was. I don't know when Pandora will be releasing it on Dreams of Spanking, or what it will be called, so I don't want to give too many details away. Suffice it to say that we had some spirited dialogue and lots of spanking -- hand, hairbrush and strap. I had never played with Paul before, but I'd always wanted to; I'd watched him with others, I had always liked him, so it felt like a very natural progression and we bantered with ease. 

Here I am, in typical Erica "righteous indignation" mode. And will you look at Paul's face!! Yum!

I had misunderstood one of Pandora's directions: she'd asked us to shoot another minute of hairbrush spanking footage, with "no talking." But by that, she meant no pauses for dialogue, just action. I took that literally, and I was dead silent for close to a full minute. After that flurry, Pandora said, "Erica, it's OK to say 'ow' and fuss," and I cried, "Oh, no! I thought you wanted me to be quiet!" We all had a good laugh, as it was probably the first time in my filming history that no sound came out of me for that long! I was game to reshoot the minute, complete with fussing.

I was grateful to be in scanty lingerie, as I quickly grew warm and sweaty with the action and with the A/C being turned off. But otherwise, I was exhilarated, and sorry to see the clip come to an end! They turned the A/C back on, Paul got me a large tumbler of water without my even asking, and we shot some stills before I put my clothes back on. After that, Alex and Pandora shot a brief scene for Northern Spanking, with Paul on camera. I sat and watched, and somehow, I managed to keep myself from laughing hysterically at some of their dialogue. But I had to clamp both hands over my mouth!

After that, we sat around chatting for a while, and then it was time for a late dinner. I suggested Jerry's Deli, even though it wasn't super close, because they stay open past midnight, and it was now about 9:30 -- plus they have a huge menu and there would be something to please everyone. They agreed, and we headed there. Paul insisted on paying for my dinner, which I thought was lovely. We had a great time, eating and yakking and enjoying that post-shoot euphoria we all seem to get. Our dishes varied: breakfast for Alex, salad and sweet potato fries for Pandora, cheesesteak sandwich for Paul and a bowl of soup (with wonderful fresh rye bread) for me. I was starting to wind down and get sleepy, but wasn't ready for the evening to end just yet.

Back at Alex and Paul's, we had a glass of wine and talked some more. I need to mention Alex's kitties. She has two, both of them sweet, beautiful boys. One of them is an angel kitty -- very mellow, loves everyone, loves to be petted. The other? Well, he definitely has his own agenda. He too loves attention, but it has to be on his terms, when he wants it! If you try to give him attention when he doesn't feel like it, he has his ways of most emphatically letting you know he is displeased and you should cease and desist from annoying him. :-) 

For example, at the end of the night, Alex, Pandora and I were all sprawled on the bed, and Mr. Fussy jumped up on the bed to join us. He made his way over to my left side and curled up against me, so I started to pet him and scratch his ears. He snuggled and purred, rubbing against me, and every time I stopped petting, he nudged my hand for more. So adorable! This went on for several minutes. Until His Highness decided he was over it, and in a split second, he reared up his head, bit my hand (not hard) and jumped off the bed in a huff. Well! I had been dismissed! I then sat up and Alex went to get me a lint roller, so I could clean off the mass quantities of kitty fur that was adorning my clothes all down my left side. I really should have taken a couple of pictures of the cats, since they're both so cute and photogenic. But there will be other opportunities.

It was midnight -- Alex and Paul were marvelous hosts, but I knew they were tired, and that I really should head out so everyone could get some sleep. So hard to go, though! We all shared massive hugs, and Pandora took a selfie of the two of us.

Such lovely people, all three of them. ♥

Busy with work today, but of course I had to take some time out to catch up here. And in a couple of hours, Steve is coming over. I'm definitely getting more than my usual amount of attention this week! :-) Makes up for not going to BBW, which is this weekend.

Alex & Paul, love you and see you soon, I hope! Pandora, you are amazing and I'm so very happy I got to meet you, work with you and hang out with you. Please do come back to us again soon!

Yes, I'm going to hell

But at least I'll be with my friends. :-D

Being that it's Easter weekend, I couldn't resist sharing these tidbits I found. (Warning: Blasphemy ahead.)

Oh boy, fun for the whole family! I think I'd pass, though. I do not need to find Easter eggs that badly.

Everybody sing along! "It's fun to stay at the Y-M-C-A..."

EDIT: I just saw this, and it begged to be added. To this, I only have one question: WTF??

Lest I be accused of only lampooning the Christian/Catholic faith, rest assured, I'm an equal opportunity offender. Found these Passover cartoons as well:

Actually, matzo really isn't that bad. Bland and boring, yes, but at least it's not gross, like those disgusting beige blobs (AKA gefilte fish) you've heard me bitch about in the past.

Don't believe me? Here ya go -- validation:

At least the foodies will never be allowed to wrap it in bacon. But if some sweet/savory combo freak ever tries covering it with chocolate, I am leaving the planet.

Whatever you celebrate, have a great weekend, y'all.

Fun with Alex and Pandora

About a week ago, the lovely Pandora Blake came from across the pond to her first California visit. She's been a very busy bee while here, shooting up a storm of videos and having fun adventures while staying with Alex Reynolds and Paul Kennedy. She and I had never met, but we've been online buddies for a long time and always hoped we'd get a chance to hang out in person.

And that chance finally happened. :-D She'd messaged me on Fet, saying she'd be here until the middle of next week, and would I like to meet? Absolutely, I said. So today, she, Alex and I met for lunch at the oft-mentioned Aroma Café. When we were at last face to face and hugging, it was as if I'd known her for years. 

We had to stand in line for a long time to order, because it was a beautiful sunny day and my favorite hangout was packed. Alex and I had waxed enthusiastic about the place, and when Pandora saw the menu, she announced that she wanted everything on it. But she hadn't seen anything yet.

The bakery case. The rows and rows and shelves after shelves of cakes and treats. She snapped a shot of Alex and me crouching down and ogling the sweets...

...and we vowed we'd share something or another after lunch.

So much fun! The food was awesome as always, and the company was fabulous. Lots of laughs and girly chat, which was just what I needed. For those who know me well, you know that when I get animated, I talk with my hands. A lot. And of course, this afternoon I managed to knock over my glass of water, all over the table. Fortunately, we snatched up our purses before they got wet, so it was just a matter of mopping up the water. But shortly after that, I flapped my hand again, and this time I knocked over the metal pole thingamajig with our table number on it. Sheesh! What a klutz! At least I didn't knock my water over a second time. :-)

And then, it was dessert time. I stayed at the table so we wouldn't lose it, dispatching Alex and Pandora back inside and telling them I was OK with whatever they chose, as long as it was something with chocolate (which would still leave the number of possibilities high). They did not disappoint, having ordered a slice of a chocolate cake with ganache and raspberry jam between the layers, frosted on the outside with white chocolate frosting and then plastered with chocolate jimmies. 

Did I say slice? Make that a slab. Here we are, about to dive into it:

Would you believe that, even with the three of us, we couldn't finish it all? (Although what was leftover was mostly frosting.) Soooo freaking good.

Pandora told me she's always hoped for an opportunity to shoot with me, but we were never in the same place at the same time. She knew this was last-minute, but would I like to shoot something for her site before she left CA? Would I! So, if all goes according to plan, this coming Monday I will be heading to Alex's house to shoot for Pandora's Dreams of Spanking site, with Paul topping me. How cool is that? 

Alex had to head off to take care of some stuff, so Pandora stayed on with me, and I agreed to drive her back to Alex's after we were done chatting. We stayed another 45 minutes or so, and then I took her back, getting to see Alex and Paul's place for the first time (and their kitties!!).

So Pandora suggested shooting something a little on the edgy side, with a take-down of sorts, a struggle, maybe some bondage -- Paul will be a bit of a bad guy, but I will definitely be deserving whatever I get. Anyone have any thoughts on scenarios? We're open! This should be fun -- I haven't shot anything edgy-ish since I did "The Villain Strikes Erica Scott" three years ago.

Thank you, ladies, for such a great afternoon! Can't wait to see you again on Monday.

In other news this week, there was a lot of buzz about our lunar eclipse last Monday. I didn't see it, but I have seen pictures of it. It's pretty fascinating, seeing the "blood moon" -- the moon appearing to be a deep shade of red.

Although to be honest, I'm not quite sure why it's such a big deal to see a red moon. After all, some of us see red moons on a regular basis.

Not me this week, though. Screw that! However, next week for sure. :-)

Palm Sunday?

All due respect to my Catholic/Christian friends, but when I realized today was Palm Sunday, my first thought was "Hey, that's a great name for a Sunday spanking party."

I shared this thought with John, who immediately feigned indignation. "You're terrible. That's sacrilege. Steve's going to hear about this."

Please. At the moment, Steve is in the middle of nowhere (i.e., Coachella Valley) at a music festival, camping out with thousands of other people whose sanity I question seriously. After three days of no sleep and pretending he's 18 again, I reckon he's going to feel more like he's 80. So I'm not worried. :-Þ

Besides, I'm an equal opportunity blasphemer. Tomorrow is the first day of "my people's" big important holiday. I could sure go for a Passover satyr.

What? Did I say something wrong?

The final word on the "Not Listening Stick"

Note: in order to know what I'm talking about here, you have to read this post.

So on Wednesday, I went to see my stepmother S. We had a wonderful visit, spending a total of five hours together, talking and talking and talking. When we were on our way to lunch, I casually mentioned to her that I had finally seen Ladies' Man for the first time. We got into talking about her experiences being on that set. For one thing, her particular vignette in it was a standalone scene and she didn't interact with any of the other actresses, just Jerry. But she was on the set for a full 11 weeks before they even got to her scene. Why? Because Jerry wanted her there. So basically, she was paid to be on set for all those weeks, for doing nothing. But she got to observe.

She said she got to see all sides of Jerry -- his benevolent, playful side, and the side that was, in her words, an absolute monster, insulting and humiliating people. What did he do? I asked. "He went off on these terrible tirades, yelling and saying horrible things. A lot of the women were reduced to tears."

That's when I first mentioned the picture I'd seen. I asked her if she remembered seeing that stick. She said she didn't, but it wouldn't surprise her. She then continued, talking about how he was whacked out most of the time on a combination of his pain meds and his preferred cocktail. Apparently, he would take a full-sized drinking glass and fill it with half brandy, and half milk. BLECCHH! And he would chug that like water. After watching his behavior for all those weeks, she was very nervous about what she was in for, but he turned out to be relatively respectful to her. I guess he took a liking to her. (If you saw her back then, you'd know why! Plus, she was a strong, confident woman. I think he instinctively knew not to mess with her.)

I was still curious, though. So when we got to the restaurant and were seated, I got out my phone and pulled up the photo of Jerry with the paddle. When S looked at it, her surprise was genuine -- I saw her eyes pop. "Where did you find this?" she asked. Google search, I told her. Then I added, "Can you believe he actually used that on women on his sets?"

She made a wry, disgusted face, and replied, "Well, he was a rather sick individual, my dear."

And that's when I dropped the subject.

I wasn't sure whether or not she was associating paddle wielders to "sick individuals," but I didn't want to find out. When the "s" word comes into a conversation about kinkiness, I know to bow out. 

Oh well.

But on another note, our visit was highly satisfying. I'd been wanting to tell her something for the longest time, but never felt like the moment was right. But she's going to be 83 this month -- she won't be around forever, and I don't want to regret words unsaid.

We talked about when I was a kid, and how I basically got dumped on her when I moved in with her and my dad. How she bore the burden of dealing with a surly pre-teen, with driving me everywhere, with my deep hungering neediness for a mother -- when she already had her own daughter, from whom she was estranged. (Her daughter went to live with her dad, shortly before I moved in with Dad and S.) It had to be tough for her, especially when her marriage to my father started falling apart.

Bottom line? I told her that I realized now how unfair that had been to her, and how grateful I was that she took it on and did the best she could for me in a far-from-ideal situation. Then I took a deep breath and said, "I loved my mother. I know she meant well, she did the best she could, and she had no one to learn any sort of parenting skills from. But... ever since I was a kid, and still, to this day, I wish you were my mother." My throat closed at that point, and I fingered the necklace at my throat. "And I love this so much, I can't begin to tell you."

She smiled. She's not the emotional, touchy-feely sort like I am. But she did say, "Oh, Erica, thank you. That's the best compliment I've ever gotten." (I can't really believe that, but it was nice to hear.) She then added, "I wish I had given birth to both of you." (Me and her daughter.)

So there, I said it. I know it's a betrayal of sorts to my mother, but I can't help it. It's how I feel. And I would have certainly never said it to her. But I'm glad I said it to S.

After lunch, we headed back to her place to talk some more. She has the most adorable little dog, a terrier mix named Katie. This critter loves everyone, and she is so full of life and energy and joy. She ran back and forth between us, bestowing kisses. I wanted a picture with her -- it was hard to get her to stay still in my lap, since she kept twisting around to lick my face and neck and her whole body was wagging. But we got one!

Isn't she cute?? She has these enormous, soulful brown eyes, and she stares right into your eyes with them. 

And here we are at another Friday. Today, John is having his dental implant put in, after having that tooth pulled a few months ago. The procedures and appointments go on and on. The good news is, his leg has been feeling better, is swelling much less, and he's been sleeping a lot better. So he's hasn't been walking around half dead like he was before. There is a lot more work ahead, but at least he's hanging in there. ♥

Have a great weekend, y'all.

B.C. and T.C.

Yesterday was a full and busy day, so I didn't have time to do my session write-up. We had our usual lovely time, though.

Steve decided to keep it simple for the implements phase: He let me choose one, and then he picked one. "Bottom's choice and top's choice: B.C. and T.C." he smiled. I chose his riding crop, which is snappy and stinging and very stimulating in a painful sort of way. What did he choose? Yup. That @#$%ing Licking Stick.

"I think your T.C. is Total Crap," I grumbled. He didn't agree, of course.

But I still liked the crop much better. Fortunately, that's what he predominantly used. 

All during the scene, he was doing his best to convince me that I really needed to ask my stepmother, when we got together, about that picture of Jerry Lewis and his paddle, and if she'd seen it on the Ladies' Man set (or maybe even felt it). (Read the post before this one if you don't know what I'm talking about.) "Who knows," he mused. "Maybe you and she share something you never even knew."

"Ewwww, no!" I screeched. "Please! That's my stepmother. I don't even want to imagine that." 

"You have to ask her," he insisted, punctuating his insistence with the crop. "You'll always wonder if you don't. You don't have to tell her about what you do or what you're into. Just ask her about the movie set and her experience with it. Make sure you bring it up somehow during lunch."

"I'll try," I groaned.

"Excuse me?" he said. "You'll what?"

Ugh. I forget that's a huge difference between John and Steve. John will accept "I'll think about it" or "I'll try." With Steve, there's no "try." There is "do." Harrumpph.

Well, kids, I did bring up the subject with her yesterday, even showed her the picture of Jerry. I will tell you all about that tomorrow. (No, there weren't any fun revelations, sorry to say. It kind of fell flat. But I'm glad I did it anyway.)

On a side note: Would you believe that Steve has never seen, or even heard of, Secretary? I was slack-jawed. I need to revoke that man's kink card! Who the hell in any realm of kinky things hasn't heard of Secretary? So I pulled up some images for him. Of course, he found them fascinating. I think I need to pick up a copy of that movie. Fortunately, I'm in the camp of people who loved it. Yeah, I know, it wasn't the best idea to portray the main characters as whackos. But I loved how they both blossomed and found happiness with each other.

Back to work for me.

Jerry's "Not Listening" Stick

Oh, the fun and crazy things you find on the Internet.

As many of you know, my former stepmother S (the nice one) was a dancer/actress. Most of the stuff she worked on was before a lot of my readers' time, but that's OK. I have many beautiful pictures of S, but just for grins, I was Googling her today to see if there were any I'd overlooked. She's on my mind, since I will be having lunch with her tomorrow.

Google, of course, is the land of segues. You search for one thing and it sends you off in myriad directions. Long story short: My stepmother was in a film in 1961 called The Ladies' Man, starring Jerry Lewis. It was, as films go, kind of stupid, with Jerry doing his usual shtick. So as I roamed through my stepmother's images, a few from that movie showed up. But then this popped into view: (NO, this is not my stepmom, but it is from Ladies' Man)

WTF?? Immediately intrigued, I Googled "Jerry Lewis" + "Not Listening Stick." Apparently, this was a prop he would bring on his movie sets. Not sure how far it dates back, or how many years he used it, but if anyone wasn't paying attention to his direction on the set or was screwing up their lines, they got a smack from this thing. (I may be going out on a limb here, but I bet it was applied to only the female co-stars, not the male.)

So... am I dying to ask S tomorrow if she was ever at the receiving end of the "Not Listening Stick"? You bet your a$%. I know they were good buddies; in fact, as you may recall my mentioning a year or so ago, that beautiful necklace that she passed on to me was given to her by him. 

But am I actually going to ask? Nah. I don't have the nerve.

Besides, I don't really want to know if Jerry Lewis is/was kinky. He kinda gives me the creeps these days.

Monday morning ramble

No, not a rant. Just stuff I'm thinking about.

The kink scene is a never-ending source of fascination... and frustration. So many things I completely get, and yet there are thousands more that I don't. And sometimes, I have to laugh at myself, because I feel like a total hypocrite. No, I'm not talking about the age-old comparisons and controversies regarding spanking and the overall BDSM scene. I mean, within the spanko scene itself.

Case in point: I see a lot on FetLife, perusing it from day to day. As I follow my various friends on there, I often see mentions of punishments and restrictions. Grounding from social media. Enforced bedtimes. Writing lines. Soap in the mouth. I see women complaining about these things, but they're going along with them anyway. And I find myself getting angry. "What's wrong with you??" I huff to myself. "How can you allow that? You're a grown woman, not a @#$%ing child!"

And that's when I laugh. Yeah, right, Erica. Look at what you allow. You get put across men's laps, your bottom bared and spanked like a naughty little girl. You get called "young lady" and "brat" and you love it. Yeah, that's so adult of you.

Why is that acceptable to me, and yet, the other punishments within the spanko realm are so abhorrent? I know it's "to each their own" and all that, but sometimes, I wish I understood other kinks a bit more.

I read about women saying that they like the restrictions, even though they hate them at the same time, because they need structure and guidance. I guess that's where I rebel. I had more than enough freaking structure and guidance growing up, with my mother. She had more rigid rules and restrictions than any of my peers' parents. Her bedtime for me was so strict that if I went to bed ten minutes late one night, I had to go to bed ten minutes early the next. She constantly came up with creative punishments, like the time she wouldn't allow me to read for a week, which damn near killed me, since I was never without a book. She shoved soap bars in my mouth when I was small. I resented the hell out of all this.

And yet I willingly and happily get spanked. How does that work?

Maybe the immediacy is part of it. It happens and then it's done. Whereas grounding, lines, etc. go on and on, long after the excitement/stimulation/whatever over them is gone. Maybe it's the idea of someone else having that much control over me. When I was a kid, I couldn't wait to grow up so I could do whatever I wanted and no one could tell me otherwise. The irony of that is, as an adult, I'm actually quite self-policing. I am hyper-vigilant about my health, my work, my bills, my responsibilities. I am on my own case enough of the time -- I don't need someone else on it.

Maybe the physical/sexual stimulation is part of it. During a spanking, there's no denying that I'm being stimulated in various ways, endorphins are flying all over, my head space is being altered. Where the hell are the endorphins when I'm writing a line over and over? Where's the excitement when I'm sitting at home, dying to go on FetLife or Facebook or whatever, and being "forbidden" to do so? 

Is there a thrill about being controlled in that manner? Maybe that's the part I'm not getting. All I can see is the resentment and the chafing.

Back in the days when I used to IM all the time, and had a few regulars I'd chat with, one guy told me he wanted me to go stand in the corner of my bedroom for a half-hour, then report back to him. WTF? What the hell would I want to do that for? But he was quite insistent about it. At first I thought, fine, I'll just tell him I did it, and he'll never know the difference. However, on second thought, I got pissed off. Who are you to tell me to do that? Screw you! So I told him no, I'm not doing it. He stopped talking to me.

Yeah, there's a heart-breaker. But what if it had been someone I knew well and loved? Would I do it, or would I still be as pissed off about it? I have a feeling it would be the latter. It doesn't matter how close I am to a man -- I simply do not like being ordered to do things unless it's in the middle of a scene and I'm in that head space.

Of course, the "I'm too @#$%ing old for that" doesn't wash. Because, technically, I'm too @#$%ing old to get spanked as well.

Any thoughts from those who love to hate these adjunct punishments? What is it about being restricted that flips your switch?

Correspondence Hall of Shame, 4/4

Happy Friday, kids! This time, I have just one entry. But it so boggled my mind, I thought it deserved its own special focus.

Written to me in a private message on FetLife:

Hi Erica, how are you doing?
I just saw this face photo of yours in fet:

(he's talking about this photo:)

and it reminds me there is a group here called "Women who like guys masturbating to their fetlife photos" and when i saw the photo it just remind me of that group cause that would be a perfect photo for it.
Why am i saying that? cause i just wanted to share with you what came to my mind... hahaha
Don't worry, i'm not suggestion you to enter that group or offering myself to make a tribute photo or video, just wanted to share what i thought.
thank you for your attention and have a great day.

Really? What am I supposed to say to this? Thank you for sharing?

I'm so glad he clarified that he wasn't suggestion [sic] that I join that group. Look, I'm not naive. I know a whole lot of photos on FetLife, including mine, are wank fodder for some. But really... my face?? Yeeesh.

It struck me as perversely funny, I guess. I have a gazillion shots of my butt in various forms of undress, shots of me naked, etc., etc. on FetLife. But when I post a G-rated, fully clothed innocent shot of my smiling face, I get a message from some moron saying it's a great shot for guys to spooge on.

Here's a tip, guy. You can think whatever your little mind desires. But keep it in your thinking voice. It's really not necessary to share your thoughts all the time. This was not information that was crucial for my well-being.

And another tip: You seem to be under the impression that you were paying me a compliment. News flash: No. You weren't.

A tribute photo or video? I really wish I could erase the imagery that conjured up. Complete with MAD magazine sound effects, like "SPLLOOOORRRGGGE!"

Bleah. I just made myself sick. Time to get back to work.

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

What's the date today?

I was overjoyed to see Steve this morning. We'd had to miss last week, as the poor man developed a staph infection on his face, on the upper part of his left cheek. It was actually quite serious -- at first, his doctor thought he might have to have surgery on it, because it was so big. I'll spare you all the gruesome details, but he had to have it incised, twice, and was put on two different antibiotics. He was also told to stay away from people, because he was highly contagious.

But, although it's still healing, he was given the green light to see me. :-) Mercifully, it was bandaged. I couldn't handle seeing what is basically a hole in his face.

So we spent about an hour catching up, chatting away. Then he asked, "Are you ready?"

I was snuggled up against him, and looked into his face. "Can I ask you a question?" "Sure," he said.

"Would you mind if we didn't play today? I'm really not up for it." My voice was quiet, my expression serious.

If he was disappointed or upset, he hid it well. "Really? Sure, whatever you want. How come? Are you OK?"

"Yeah, I'm all right. I'm just not feeling like it. I don't know why..."

He looked concerned. "Are you sure you're all right? Is something wrong?"

I shook my head, gave him a sad look. After a pause, I said, "Can I ask you another question?"

"Of course."

"What's the date today?"

He looked at me like I was crazy. "Uh... April 1?" When I kept giving him that same puppy-dog look, he added, "Did I miss something?"

Absolutely freaking clueless.

I figured he'd had enough, and I burst out laughing. "APRIL FOOL!!"

"You brat!" he blurted. "You totally had me going!" I don't know how I kept a straight face -- I guess I'm a pretty good actress after all. :-)

I don't really like pranks and tricks all that much. At first I thought I'd hide all the implements, tell him I got rid of them, but after thinking about it, it seemed like a bit much. This was just for a quick minute of fun.

Oh, he got me back. But it was totally worth it.

(Hey, look, a Cane-iac endorsement!)

Not only did he write on me, but he bit me, the beast. Here he is gleefully pointing it out.

Ah well. Like I said, it was completely worth it, and I was left feeling quite happy, the happiest I've been in weeks. See?

Thank you, my top. I love you, and that's no April Foolery!