Month: April 2018

After writing about the importance of locking Lion away so he can’t touch himself, I had to leave him unlocked for a few days. Even last night his sore spots made him ask not to play. Let me say that again: Lion requested we not play. That’s fairly unusual. He was very horny the night before. Last night, not so much.

It could be that he’s slipped into another slump but I don’t think so. The slumps don’t make him ask not to be locked up so a sore spot can heal. The slumps make him not care whether he’s locked or not.

The good news is that Lion says the sore spots seem better. When I told him we could play tonight and then I can put the cage on, he thanked me. The better news for Lion is that his sore spots rule out any Velcro or menthol rub play. I don’t want to irritate the area. I’m thinking something along the lines of the Magic Wand for tonight.

We were watching a TV show yesterday in which the characters said they had sex twice a week. Lion said the guy was lucky. I told him he was pretty lucky because he gets attention almost every night. He said it’s not the same as having sex twice a week. I wonder what Lion would do if he had sex twice a week. He didn’t like it very much when he had an orgasm every day. If he were to have two orgasms a week, would he like it? Would he want to wait longer? It’s hard to pin him down sometimes.

I know neither of us likes long waits. Lion says his optimum wait is four days. I was aiming for anywhere between four days and two weeks. At four days he would average two per week. I’m not sure how I feel about that and I’m not sure he wants it. I’m also still unsure if he likes to know when he’s going to get an orgasm. Does it give him something to look forward to? I think he’s hoping I’ll find a reason to make him wait longer once I’ve set the date. Even after all this time I still feel like I don’t have a clue.

Yesterday, Mrs. Lion prepared a great brunch complete with bacon, scrambled eggs, home fries, and english muffins. We rarely have such elaborate meals at home. It was wonderful. Saturday night, when Mrs. Lion edged me, she noticed some red spots at the base of my penis. It was a bit sore there. The Jail Bird sometimes (rarely) will pinch me and make me sore. She decided to leave me wild all night and all day Sunday.

Oddly, I didn’t feel any real interest in touching my penis other than to adjust things when needed. I’m not saying that if wild, a hand will stray from time to time. I guess yesterday wasn’t one of those times.  I know that I’ve written that I think erections and manual stimulation are violations of my power exchange. Mrs. Lion doesn’t agree. Apparently, as long as I don’t play with myself, she is fine with erections when she isn’t present.

I’ve been thinking about it. She’s right. If I’m wild and use the opportunity to get aroused, I’m only helping her to keep me horny and unsatisfied. That makes sense to me. If she leaves me wild, is it implicit permission to have a few erections with the help of my hand. Nope. I’m sure my paws need to stay away. Too bad. If I do attempt to play, I expect she will find a way to prevent further violations.

She’s focusing on more closely monitoring my behavior. She announced that she will be punishing me more frequently because she will be much more aware of my obedience to her and my rules. On Saturday night, I got a  little clear broth on my shirt. She noticed and smiled. It used to be that a spill only counted as an infraction if it left a stain on my shirt. This has been revised. Any spilling on myself, regardless of whether or not it leaves a stain, gets me a spanking.

Saturday night I got spanked for spilling. It was a very light paddling. I barely yelped. But it was strong enough to feel for an hour or so after she finished. She is following through on her promise to be more aware and to punish any slip up no matter how small.

She’s been much more intense when we play. Two heavy applications of Icy Hot on my balls ten minutes apart is a big change. Every time we’ve played recently, she’s gone for the most sensation she can generate. Clothespins used to be a pleasant pinching of my scrotum. It hurts a little and feels good. Now she looks for the spots that will make me yelp. It’s a totally different experience.

I like this change. Lioness 2.0 is finally here to stay. She visited more and more often over the last few months. Now she is here full time. I welcome her. I’m also sure this isn’t the end. Is Lioness 3.0 far away?

 

 

My weenie got a little red while sporting the nylon cage. There were sore spots here and there but nothing to stop Lion from wearing it. Last night, however, Lion asked me if a spot looked red. It didn’t but it was sore. He also had a sort of a red stripe up my weenie. When I was done edging him it felt a little rough too. It didn’t make any sense to put a wounded weenie back in the Jail Bird so I left him wild.

About an hour after I decided to leave Lion wild, there was some rustling under the blankets. I told him to keep his hands off my weenie. I knew he wasn’t playing with himself but he was touching. He said he was just checking the sore spots. Had they changed in the past hour? No. Did I have to put the cage back on? No. I didn’t think so. But he’s been touching again today. Maybe I should put his collar on and handcuff his hands to his collar. That seems a bit severe but I might need to.

The other day we were talking about discipline and the fact that Lion hadn’t been spanked in a while. We did a maintenance spanking to remind him of what a punishment spanking might feel like. I also agreed to keep a better eye on him to make sure I was catching his infractions. Further, we decided that the spills I had been letting go because over time they vanished would no longer be free passes. A spill is a spill is a spill. It doesn’t matter if it’s water or spaghetti sauce or what.

With that in mind, Lion’s splashes of pho last night counted as spills even though they were non-existent before we left the restaurant. Anyone looking at him while he ate would think he was a slob and then wonder why I was out with a slob. I can’t have people wondering why I’m out with a slob. When we got home I punished him. It’s true it wasn’t a hard punishment. He just needs to be more careful when he eats. Next time it will be harder.

It may seem ironic that I can care about the sore spots on my weenie while whomping Lion’s butt. How can I be loving and mean at the same time? Lion’s not the only complex creature living in our house.

Mrs. Lion and I tend to write about similar things. We don’t plan it. It just happens.  In Mrs. Lion’s post yesterday, she wrote about my ambivalence at being in a chastity device. She’s right. My attitude toward it isn’t like most of what I read in chastity blogs. Even though I am in my fifth year wearing it, I still want to ejaculate and take absolutely no pride in how long I have to wait. Many guys write proudly that their cages haven’t been off in many months and that they have no desire to ejaculate.

That’s certainly a valid point of view. I can understand it. But it’s not me. The excitement of having something locked over my penis went away years ago. Sometimes, I do get a little hot thinking about being in the device. After all, I love bondage. But fascination with my chaste state is largely gone. That sounds like I am pretty much done with enforced chastity. I’m not. It’s not up to me.

One thing that Mrs. Lion’s post mentioned was my wish that she want me to be caged. Even though she discussed this, she never said that was something she wants. She said that keeping me locked up does do something positive for our relationship. She’s right; it does. She’s also right that neither of us understands exactly what that is. But she never said it gave her any pleasure to take sexual control of me. In fact, the concept of control only got a brief mention in terms of the cage assuring that only she could masturbate me. I can’t do it myself.

That’s very different than sexual control. I suppose it is a form of sexual ownership, at least ejaculation ownership. But it isn’t classic dominance. I know that isn’t something Mrs. Lion particularly wants. It isn’t her. But then liking me locked up isn’t the same as being dominant. It could be acknowledgment of the almost-funny predicament I got myself into. It could be fun to see that even after years, it still causes me some pain and difficulty.  It could be enjoyment of the game she plays by edging me over and over and then locking me back up; the challenge to see how much desire she can create and leave unsatisfied.

Her view, as she writes it, is that the chastity device is something I want, or possibly need. That it’s something that has a nearly magical power to bring us closer together. It’s almost a talisman that brings marital harmony. She wants me to wear it, even at those times it’s the last thing I want. She writes that she wants it because it works for both of us. These are very solid, positive reasons. They easily justify a lifetime of enforced chastity. But the missing reason, that she likes my penis locked up, is obviously missing.

You may wonder why I care? Why does she have to enjoy seeing my penis in its little cage? After all, the only thing that counts is that she wants me securely trapped. Further, she is willing to ignore any desire I have to get out. Isn’t that the optimum definition of how a keyholder should feel? I agree. It’s perfect.

My wish for her to enjoy my predicament is trivial. It has no effect on the fact that I am locked up and that Mrs. Lion is committed to keeping me that way. I understand it. It’s not up to me to decide how she has to feel about what she is doing. Obviously, she feels good about it. She likes the way it works for us. Being amused at this would tickle my interest in humiliation, but it has absolutely no relevance to what we are doing.

See? I get it, sweetie.