Ever since things have gotten serious with my shoulder, a balance we have established has been slipping. It’s much more than the sexual power exchange we have. It’s that the focus has somehow moved away from us and toward my physical problem. There is something isolating about a disability, even a temporary one.
Mrs. Lion is very experienced in the areas I need help. Both of her parents were disabled. But, it is almost a trade between between caring for me while injured and relating to me sexually. Maybe it is impossible to practice all the things we write about here while I am in pain. Or, more optimistically, the lessons we have learned from enforced chastity and domestic discipline are now woven into the fabric of our lives.
To some extent I think that it is true. We are taught to treat sick people with care and indulge them far more than we would when they are well. Mrs. Lion has suspended all my rules because she knows it is difficult for me to remember to follow them. I’m not complaining about that. She’s right.
But when the rules went out, so did a lot of the intimacy and communication we had developed. After all, there is no reason to be particularly aware of my behavior if for now it doesn’t matter what I do. That makes sense. But there is a hidden zinger. The rules, chastity, and discipline are tools that force us to relate to each other physically. That doesn’t sound right, but in the sense I mean it is true.
and male chastity have formed a framework for sexual interaction. Domestic discipline requires that Mrs. Lion remains consciously aware of anything I do that is bad for me or annoys her. It’s not nice to yell at a sick person, much less spank him. So, Mrs. Lion is unconsciously encouraged to stuff her feelings in favor of helping me. She’s being unselfish. She is unselfish by nature. Much of the reason we get value from our power exchanges is that she is learning to be selfish in a constructive way.
My physical needs have to take center stage while I can’t care for myself. But at least until this time next week, I am not helpless. I just hurt. It’s way too easy for me to slip into the role of invalid and even easier for Mrs. Lion to revert to her care giver self.
I’m not in a position to decide how much care I really need. I think Mrs. Lion is helping me exactly as much as I need. We both know that the level of care I will need post-surgery will be much greater. What we don’t know is how to sustain our power exchange. I miss the intimacy my pain has driven away. I miss the playful sexual fun we had. I don’t have the answer. I just hope we can discover ways to keep those fires burning while I heal.