When I’m horny, almost any kinky idea sounds exciting. My post yesterday is a good example. Mrs. Lion wrote a post about enema play the day before. I enthused about the challenges it presented. The idea didn’t turn me on, even then. But the humiliation and surrender are exciting to think about. Actually doing it is certainly not going to be fun. I won’t get hard sitting on the toilet.
In general, I find that anticipating or reminiscing about painful play is arousing; suffering through it, isn’t. From my years of dungeon monitoring, I know that some people get visibly aroused when experiencing pain. In contrast to me, the more it hurts, the harder/wetter they get. I won’t get aroused if I know I won’t actually suffer through the kink du jour. Does this mean that living in the present is less fun for me than anticipation and remembering? This subject has been bothering me for years.
I discovered this sexual time shift when I was spanked for the first time. I got hard every time I thought about it. There I would be, naked tied face-down, feeling the sting of the paddle or whip. When it finally happened, I was hard as a rock as I got tied to the bed. My erection pressed into my belly. The first, gentle swats made me squirm, fucking the bed. When they started to hurt, my erection disappeared. The next day I got hard whenever I thought about that painful spanking.
The same is true of being forced to wear diapers. It’s amazingly hot to imagine myself wearing one. It’s humiliating and infantile. Once I have one on and it’s wet, the concept is no longer arousing. For the record, wearing an adult diaper doesn’t smell or feel wet. The magic stuff they are made of absorbs pee and keeps it away from the skin.
But it’s heavy. A gallon of water weighs eight pounds (about 4 kg). From my reading, a typical pee is about 10oz, about half a pound. It feels like a lot more. Two pees drag the diaper down and make me walk like a cowboy. Very humiliating. I find that idea arousing. I don’t find the reality nearly as much fun. But, when I think back about being made to wear one, I get aroused again.
You get the picture. I’m turned on by remembering past discomfort and anticipating pain to come in the future. But the actual experience is no fun at all. That’s not the worst of it. While I am experiencing the discomfort, I think about how hot it will be to think about it later. It’s like I am vanilla in the present and a pervert in past and future.
I’m exaggerating. It’s fun while I experience the fruits of my overactive imagination. It’s just fun in a different way. I enjoy the irony of making a wish and regretting voicing it. I like the attention from Mrs. Lion, and potentially others who could conceivably witness my plight. I love crossing one more item off my kinky bucket list.
So what happens when that torture is repeated? Amazingly, the same things. It’s all new again. I remember the prior times I experienced it, but my memory doesn’t effectively store the sensations. In other words, I don’t get used to it. I suppose that if I always had to wear a diaper, for example, I would tire of it and consider it an inconvenience. Or would I?
Consider my male chastity device. I’ve been wearing it over 95% of the time for more than three years. It’s inconvenient. Peeing is always an adventure and I have to sit unless there is a urinal available. It pinches sometimes and it’s impossible to forget it’s locked around my penis. I don’t consider it an inconvenience. It annoys me at times. But the longer I have to wear it, the more I like that it is there. As long as I know that it is there because Mrs. Lion claims ownership and unlocks it when she wants to use her penis, wearing it is actually fun.
I think that both cases, the painful activity and the long-term inconvenience, have something in common. This common ingredient is what turns me on when I anticipate or remember. It’s so simple that I ‘m surprised it took me so long to realize. The magic ingredient is my surrender. If Mrs. Lion makes me do something or provides difficult sensations, she is exercising her control over me. I’m turned on by that. Each new way she applies her control provides fuel for my sexual fire. It doesn’t matter if I like what she is doing. I love she is doing it to me.