As I’ve mentioned before, I didn’t have a wild youth. I never went out with anyone until I was in college. No one ever called me a tease — until now. Back then the title would have had a negative connotation. Now I take pride in being able to tease my poor Lion right to the edge. And sometimes over the edge — accidentally or not.
It’s still difficult. It just feels like I’m the worst person in the world when I get him all riled up and leave him hanging. I know I hate when it happens to me. I have to keep telling myself that he really wants me to do it. I think that’s why it bothers me when he gets grumpy about it. If I forget that he asked for it, I feel guilty for denying him. Fortunately it’s been getting easier to remember that he asked to be caged. He asked to be denied. It’s all his fault. Blame it all on the poor Lion. So then I can laugh at him when he gives me his best pathetic look. He’s been working hard to perfect it.
I’ve decided he likes to grumble. Grumble, grumble, horny. Grumble, grumble, not fair. Grumble, grumble, grumble. Coupled with his pathetic look, it can get quite amusing. Sometimes I just smile at him. Sometimes I ignore him. (I think it’s more frustrating for him when his pleas are flatly ignored.) Sometimes I try to fix the situation. He grumbled that he didn’t have a firm date to shoot for so I gave him a firm date. Now he’s grumbling that it’s so far away. Poor boy. He really does need to be careful what he asks for. Next time it may be fifteen days. Or I may take pity on him and make it only five. I could always go back to the nightly regimen of orgasms. It might get boring if he knew he always had to make it the same length of time. Whatever method I use to determine it, I will definitely switch it up on him. As his tease, it’s my job to keep things interesting. How am I doing, my pet? [You are doing wonderfully (grumble, grumble, grumble, poor lion) — Lion]