Love Our Lurkers Day, #6

Welcome to the sixth annual Love Our Lurkers (LOL) Day. Spearheaded once again by our brilliant blogging queen Bonnie, it's time to say how much we appreciate our readers, quiet ones included, and invite them to say hello.

OK, so technically, LOL Day is supposed to be Thursday and it's still Wednesday. I was going to be a proper OCD Virgo and wait until after midnight to blog. But then I saw that several of my fellow bloggers had already posted, so I thought, ah, screw it. Ooh, I'm posting three hours early! Watch me run with scissors next! :-)

So anyway... you guys know the drill. Bloggers love their viewers, and we love comments too. If we didn't want readers and comments, we'd write a private journal. Or we'd just talk to ourselves. We want to know who you are.

C'mon, it's easy. You don't have to recite a Shakespearean soliloquy. You don't have to explain particle physics. You don't have to hand over your credit card number, your social security number, or even your name. Just say something. Hi, Erica. Love your blog, Erica. Up yours, Erica.

Here, how about a multiple choice, and then all you have to do is post a letter?

a) I read this blog for the scintillating spanking adventures
b) I like the acerbic humor (oh, for Christ's sake, look it up)
c) I'm just here to see pictures of your butt
d) Other

Whatever you choose to say (or even if you don't), thanks for visiting my little corner of the blogosphere. Smooches to you all!

See Me, Feel Me, Spank Me, Heal Me

(with all apologies to The Who)

I'm definitely in a strange place as of late. Offhand, I can't remember when I last had a day that didn't include shedding tears. Why? Doesn't matter. It just is. I ride these peaks and valleys and accept them. They pass.

It's annoying, though. In this place, it takes very little to start the waterworks. A kind gesture or some sweet words will set them off. Today, I got email from Cali, thanking me for the "wonderful grand finale." And there they went again.

Still, I pulled myself together, ran errands, straightened up the place, changed my clothes. ST was coming over, after all. And by the time he arrived, I was in quite the good and chipper humor.

We bantered a little as the scene started. I told him about the particularly dastardly move from V on Saturday -- 50 paddle swats in a row on the right cheek only. So of course, ST thought it was only proper to give the left cheek a lot of focus. Said he wanted me to be well-balanced. (Me? Not in this lifetime, toots.)

But then we settled into a rhythm and fell silent. I wasn't sure whether or not my new neighbor was home, and I wanted to be cautious. So I clamped my hands over my mouth, buried my face. Still, I arched my back and thrust up for more. He couldn't see my face or hear my voice. But he read my body language, sensed my need. He laid into me harder and faster. My feet flailed, but I held my position.

The tears came early, and they came fast. Good tears. Cleansing and sweet. And the harder I cried, the harder he spanked, strapped and paddled. How does one explain the bizarre dichotomy of feeling pain and relishing it so thoroughly?

His voice, normally so gentle, took on that rough edge. He grabbed my hair. "You need this, don't you," he growled. Oh yes. Yes, I certainly do. More, please. More.

He had me count the final 20 with the strap, 10 with his belt and 10 with the paddle. I barely whispered the numbers, but he heard me. Then held me close as I sobbed and sobbed for a long time afterward. It took quite a while before I was able to raise my face and look at him.

No face pictures tonight. He didn't even try to take any. I was grateful for that.

The first thing I said, when I could speak, was, "So, what's it like playing with a basket case?" "You're not a basket case," he said, stroking my hair. "What makes you say that?"

"Because," I sighed, "it's always something with me. I'm either angry about something or sad about something else."

"Well... so are a lot of people."

Sadly, I guess that's true. But not all of them have the magical pressure valve that we do.

He'd come over earlier than usual, and asked me if I'd like to go to dinner. I had to decline. All I wanted to do was lie in a boneless heap on the bed... the thought of getting up and going out sounded as impossible as flying to the moon. So we talked about odds and ends.

He said there should be an Erica Scott doll, one with a string you could pull and she'd say bratty things. I could dress up like a doll for Halloween next year! "I'm too old to dress like a doll," I muttered, and he said, "You look like a doll to me." Goddammit. Nearly set me off again.

Time for a shower and then perhaps a little something to eat. I believe I will sleep like the dead tonight.

And guess what? I have a small mark -- on my left cheek. :-)

Thank you, ST. ♥

Spanking Court weekend

Yesterday, I went once again to Spanking Court, this time to wrap up the story line of my seeking spanking therapy as an aid to depression. As y'all know if you've been following along, my initial goal sort of morphed into a battle of wills with the Court Disciplinarian, which culminated in a showdown with the Judge last time.

I figured since the scenes I did last month were a turning point, this last time would bring it all back around and I would come clean, explain why I got so far off the rails and apologize to the Court. Then I would request of the Judge that he let me have one final session with the Disciplinarian, so I could apologize to him as well.

So, that's what I presented to the Judge, and he granted me the final session, saying it would be good for both of us to have some closure. Once the court scene was shot, it was time for me to get into the scrubs and face my nemesis, who was waiting for me in the sentencing room, his eyes shooting darts at me.

My apology was sincere. I told him I'd specifically requested one more session not just so that I could tell him in person that I was sorry, but so he could have his moment of payback, as it were. He could choose the implement(s), the positioning, say and do whatever he wanted, as much as he wanted, and I would take it gracefully and without any of my former defiance or rudeness. "I'm all yours," I said.

So what did the Court Disciplinarian decide to do to me, for my final punishment and to settle the score between us? I'm not telling. :-)

Come on. Did you really think I was going to give away all the details? I will tell you that we shot a great scene, fun and real and deliciously intense. You'll just have to wait and see!

This story line ended up being six separate scenes. So far, two of them are up on the site, and I believe Cali said the third one will be up this week or next. Plus, I asked her if she would please send me pictures, so I can share some of them.

Oh, and she and Heinz are putting a limited amount of my books on sale at their "Paddles and Panties" site! I autographed them all and they'll promote them. These people are so good to me. :-)

After we wrapped my scene, I got dressed, but didn't leave for a while, opting instead to hang out with them in the conference room while they waited for their next "defendant" to show up. I didn't want to go! Once she arrived and had her makeup on, though, it was time for me to head out. They all hugged me in turn: Heinz, Cali, Dana and V. "We love you!" Dana said as she hugged me, and I damn near lost it. But I managed to keep myself together until I'd left the building and got to my car, where I started to bawl.

I will see them again. Can't go into the details of this either, but they will be shooting additional types of content next year and they'll hopefully work me into that. But it's going to be a while. And certainly won't be a regular monthly gig again. I'll miss that; it's been a great joy.

John was so sweet. He insisted on taking me to one of our favorite restaurants, lavished attention on me. Made me laugh with all his silliness. And you'll be happy to know that today, our brunch was completely undisrupted and everyone surrounding us was adult. Hallelujah.

I'm not seeing ST tomorrow, but I will see him Tuesday. It's for the best, I think. I'm sore. ;-)

Hope everyone had a nice weekend. Stay tuned; I'll put up some SC pictures when I get them.

Rainy Friday

My favorite kind of day -- gray, rainy, quiet. No one is outside, everyone's windows are closed; all I hear is the sound of raindrops. I'm in comfy sweats with Beethoven playing on the stereo (yes, I like classical music). Because John is working late and I have Spanking Court tomorrow, I won't be going to his house this evening. I will miss him, but part of me is relieved that I won't need to drive 30+ miles in Friday traffic plus rain. Southern Californians do not know how to drive in rain; they either crawl along at half the speed limit, or they tear past you and send mini-tsunamis splashing onto your windshield.

John and I hadn't talked for a couple of nights, so last night we played catch-up. Or rather, he did. He'd had a jam-packed week; lots of stuff at work (including being transferred to another department, which he thinks will be a very good thing), plus contact with a new domme, so he was all excited about that. I said little, just interjecting "uh huh," and "oh, good" and so forth where appropriate.

Then he said, "So what about you? How are you doing? What's new with your friends?" etc... My answers were monosyllabic: "OK." "Dunno." "I guess." My voice sounded half-dead in my ears. Then John said, "Life is kind of flat for you right now, isn't it."

He knows. Flatlining. Gray. Blah. Sad. The specific reasons don't matter; they just are. No work. Lackluster book sales. Upcoming holidays (and we know how much Erica loves the holidays). My mother just turned 90. For most, that would be a milestone worth a celebration, but for her, that's just another one of life's cruelties. Worries over people and things I can't control. Blah, blah, blah.

I know I have a wonderful man, and a wonderful top. I know I could be homeless, penniless, whatever-less. I AM grateful for what I have. But depression defies this logic. Like I said, it just is.

Just knowing that John totally got it broke through the thick fog and tears started pouring. It's weird, how I cry when I'm down. It's an expressionless crying -- no sobbing, no sounds, just a steady outpouring from my eyes, like I have mini-faucets behind each one and they're stuck in the on position.

Bless his heart, he tried to fix me. Started suggesting all sorts of things I could do. It's one of those guy things, I guess -- I appreciate his caring. He did make one very valid point -- I need some fun. Something, some sort of adventure, to look forward to. Something for balance.

So. How to achieve balance. Not sure. But it's something to think about. Find some fun, something that will inject some joy and anticipation, bring the color back. We're not talking anything monumental here, folks. Remember, we're talking about Ms. Routine who has to mentally prepare for days in the case of a change in her schedule.

Speaking of schedule changes, ST can't make it Monday, so he is coming over on Tuesday instead. Wow. Now you know how much I like him, folks. 

Anyone watch The Big Bang Theory? I swear, in some ways, I think Sheldon Cooper is a long-lost (and fictional) brother. Not because of his genius level or his asexuality (I am no nuclear physicist, and I love physical intimacy), but his need for sameness and routines (and his anxiety when they are disrupted). They've never established exactly what it is with him; many think it's Asperger's, or OCD, or a combination of both. I love one of his catchlines: "I'm not crazy. My mother had me tested."

Enough with this blathering. I got Chrossed today, so that's good (and congratulations to everyone else who did also). I'm going to get a pedicure -- it's hard to feel down with sparkly red toenails. And I do have SC tomorrow; a fun final scene is planned. And hopefully, my as-yet-unseen new next-door neighbor will move in sometime this weekend while I'm gone, so I will be spared the hours of racket. Because, as you know, outside noises distress me as well.

Sometimes, it's a wonder I don't spontaneously combust.

Have a great weekend, y'all.

Odds & Ends not in my book, Part 4

A favorite John story, which really should have been in the book. I confess, I completely forgot about it.

For those who have already read the book, you may recall I mentioned a couple that John and I befriended in our early scene days -- I referred to them as A & C. But I didn't explain how we met them.

In the late '90s (before Erica Scott was born), John and I used to go to a lot of local BDSM parties, including a regular gathering at a private house. This house was set far back from the street, behind a parking lot that was empty at night, so it was perfect for guest parking. People could play inside the house, or in the garage, which the owner had fashioned into a dungeon.

I was still fairly new to all this and even then, I knew I wasn't much of a fit in these BDSM gatherings, but I did the best I could. John would help -- he'd scope out the crowd with me, ask if I saw anyone I thought I might like to play with. If I was too shy to approach someone (and I usually was), he would do it for me.

One Saturday night, the party was particularly crowded, and one man stood out above the rest -- literally. He was very tall, with dark hair and eyes, wearing all black, and my "oh my God, who is that" radar went off. So when John sidled over to me and said, "See anyone you like?", I pointed right at the aforementioned gentleman and answered, "Yeah. Him. I want him."

John looked over, then snorted. "Oh, you would pick him!" he laughed. "No way! You'd go home with him!" Then he took my arm and led me out of the room and into the garage. There, we found one of our friends and started chatting, and I temporarily forgot about the handsome stranger.

"I'm going to get a Diet Coke," John announced. "You want anything?" I said no thanks; he told our friend to keep an eye on me, and he made his way through the crowded dungeon out the door. A few minutes later, he came back in with a glass of soda and rejoined us.

I was feeling a bit restless, wanting to play, and my eyes wandered. I watched people coming in and out, and then -- (gulp). I saw Mr. Handsome walk in. He stood near the doorway, looking around the room... and then he looked right at me. And didn't look away -- his eyes held mine.

Breathe, Erica. Oxygen is your friend.

Not only did he not break eye contact, but he smiled. And started walking toward me. Slowly.

It's just a coincidence. There are a lot of people here; he's coming over to talk to someone else. Get a grip.

And then there he was, right in front of me. "Hi," he said. "Are you Erica?"

Does this dungeon come equipped with a defibrillator?? "Yes," I croaked.

"I'm A," he said, extending his hand. I shook it, but he didn't let go. Instead, he gripped it more firmly, then leaned down to whisper to me, his breath tickling my ear. "And I hear you need a really good spanking."

John, of course, was sitting right there, observing with great amusement. "JOHN!" I blurted. "What did you do??" He just gave me a wide-eyed innocent look, and A laughed. "Come with me," he said, pulling me to my feet.

Was the spanking scene hot? Of course it was. But that build-up was one of the best I'd ever experienced. It couldn't have been a more perfect surprise. I was beaming and giddy for the rest of the night.

I heard the story later. John had gone back into the house, gotten his drink and then found A, introducing himself. "Look," he said. "I know this is going to sound weird, but go with me for a second. Do you spank?" A said yes. "My girlfriend really wants to play with you. Would you mind?"

A hesitated -- kind of on the spot there, right? I mean, he didn't know me, he didn't know what he was signing on for. John hastened to assure him. "I think you'll like her," he said, "but you don't have to commit to anything. She's in the garage talking with a friend of ours; go check her out first." He then went on to describe me and what I was wearing. So A said sure, why not.

What a sport, huh? :-D

As it turned out, A was there with his own girlfriend C, and the four of us hit it off immediately. We were friends for years, before the two of them dropped out of the local scene. Last I heard, they had relocated in Europe. I have so many fond memories of the two of them. A and I went on to have many more scenes together.

See, now you guys get even more why I love John so much. It takes a very special man to pimp out his girlfriend to handsome strangers for a spanking. But of course, I still went home with John. Always did, always will. ♥