spahing spoon on lion's butt
This is our spanking spoon. It’s made from very dense Chechen wood. This is the meanest paddle we own.
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This is the most unusual time of my life. I suppose I should count myself lucky, but I haven’t had any serious physical issues until quite recently. I’m used to being independent and capable of handling almost everything that comes my way. At least for now, I am extremely dependent. I can’t read my email and struggle to make sense out of what’s on TV. I’m not whining. Just stating the facts.

It seems that Mrs. Lion and I keep getting presented with new challenges. So far we’ve been successful. Our Female Led Relationship with Discipline (FLRD) took us a very long time to embrace fully, but we both persevered and you can observe by her posts that she is in all senses, my disciplining wife.

Of course, we also adopted enforced male chastity and for at least the last four years it is a solid part of our lives. But that’s different. Male chastity is a sexual power exchange that, for the most part, is fun for both of us. In many ways so is FLRD. Being spanked for spilling food on my shirt or forgetting punishment days, while painful for me, still has a rather light tone. There’s nothing relationship threatening about a very sore butt because I got spaghetti sauce on my shirt.

All this was intentional. We both decided that if we were going to adopt a disciplinary relationship, we had to first build the habits that support one. Mrs. Lion needed to learn to critically observe me. She had to learn how to meaningfully punish me. For my part, I had to learn to accept whatever punishment I was given and not question it or the reason I earned it.

If I found it relatively easy to accept my punishments, we both reasoned they were probably too mild to make the level of impression needed in FLRD. It was important that I understand the difference between BDSM, which can be quite painful, and disciplinary punishment. After three years, I think we finally have a good understanding of what that means.

To be meaningful to me, it has to be more than just painful at the time. After all, I do like being spanked. Mrs. Lion has learned to make spankings quite unpleasant. She still working on turning up the volume a bit, but she knows how to make me yelp when she paddles my bottom. This is half of the solution. The other half is to make me dread being punished. The principal value of punishment is to act as a deterrent against future bad behavior.

The solution, at least for me, is to make punishments a series of disciplinary spankings. I’m a soldier my way through the first one, but by the second or third I’m actively hoping Mrs. Lion will forget. By assigning a number of consecutive spanking days, Mrs. Lion can assign relative severity based on my offense. For example, my minimum is apparently three daily spankings. If I get food on my shirt or forget punishment days, I earn three days of disciplinary spanking. Presumably, if the offense is more serious, such as interrupting or acting like a know it all, the number of days climbs from three. If I break a rule before a series of spankings is over, the new sentence is simply added to the end of the one in progress. Also, if I don’t learn my lesson and repeat an offense, Mrs. Lion simply adds more days. So, if I spill something on my shirt only a few days after the first spill, I can look forward to five or six consecutive spanking days. The theory is that my behavior indicates when a punishment for a given offense is sufficient.

Mrs. Lion wrote about putting together a “torture book”. Her idea is to photograph each spanking implement along with a description of its effect on me. The other night she told me that I am to tell her if the given implement stings or thuds as well as rate it in terms of pain delivery. I know she won’t forget this project.

So far, she tends to use a different implement for each spanking. From my perspective, her most fearsome paddle is the spoon shaped paddle. It’s made from a heavy, imported wood. The striking surface is quite small and it has a long handle which gives her increased leverage. I don’t like it when I see her taking that one into the bedroom.

Another really nasty one is the small “tenderizer”. This paddle is flat on one side and has points on the other. We have two of them. One is considerably smaller than the other and made of a relatively light wood. The heavier one has a nice thud which, if I had a choice, I would prefer over sting. I really hate how that light one feels. It’s pure sting and misery with every swat. I suppose a spanking given with a combination of those two paddles (the spoon and light tenderizer), is my current worst nightmare.

two new paddles
These are the two tenderizer paddles. The smaller, lighter one on the right is far more painful than it big brother on the left.

Oddly, I want to help her become even more effective. The less I “like” a spanking, the more likely I will work harder to avoid another. Since I know that even the mildest offense earns three spankings, and those spankings are miserable for me, I think my learning process will be accelerated. For example, the level of discomfort hasn’t risen to the point that I would change my restaurant order to avoid things I might get on my shirt. I do work hard to avoid dropping food on my shirt, but I don’t really consider changing what I eat. When I begin to do that, I think it signals that I really don’t want to risk three spankings.

If all this seems odd to you, it’s because you probably haven’t entered into the kind of partnership Mrs. Lion and I share. In my mind, it makes little sense to be in a disciplinary relationship if the discipline isn’t severe enough to make me consciously work to avoid it. It’s not that I want more pain. I just know that severity has to reach the point that I consciously will sometimes sacrifice something I like to avoid the risk of the dreaded spanking.

This shouldn’t be too surprising. Children who are spanked work very hard to avoid getting caught and having to suffer through the punishment. Adults, like me, have a more advanced view of this. I can weigh the relative pain/pleasure of an offense. I may be willing (actually I am) to risk three of Mrs. Lion’s current spankings for chance to eat salsa and chips. The day that I pass them up is a positive sign that in my mind food on my shirt is too expensive to risk.

I have no idea what level of discomfort is necessary to get me to that point. I am very sure that it is worthwhile to find out. The reason has nothing to do with salsa. It has to do with things that truly bother my lioness. She hates it when I interrupt her. My internal risk/reward calculator has to make the risk high enough that I will think carefully before I speak. Just like with the salsa, the disciplinary spankings will condition me to edit my utterances.

Other guys who are in disciplinary relationships attempt to cure much more difficult issues. Many couples get into a disciplinary mode because the man has a drinking problem. He gets punished if he drinks too much. I’m not sure this works. Substance abuse is a special category of offense. It may be possible to control with liberal application of the paddle. But it is way more challenging than the issues Mrs. Lion wants to correct.

We’ve gone through a number of disciplinary techniques. One that didn’t work for us at all was assigning points for offenses. Then, on a punishment day, the points would be converted into number of swats. It was just too abstract for both of us. Our current system punishes one offense at a time. The intensity of the spanking is not related to the offense. The number of days I get spanked for that offense is related to the level of the offense I commit. So far, this is been really effective. There is no such thing as a “light” spanking. Spankings are all, at least theoretically, equally intense.

I’m sure we will evolve further as time goes by. The idea, in my mind at least, is that any spanking is fearsome. It has to be something I dread. I don’t think that Mrs. Lion will go to some other form of punishment. She may add time on the punishment stool, or soaping my mouth, but I think we’ve both settled on spanking as her primary disciplinary tool.

I think Lion is amazed that I’ll stay with him through all the health issues he’s had. I’m not sure what he expected. He’s said in the past that no one has taken such good care of him. He’s been married a few times. Is he forgetting what his other wives did for him? Or didn’t they take care of him because he never needed help like he’s needed in the past few years? I can’t imagine they turned their backs on him when he needed them.

It’s not like he’s doing these things on purpose. He didn’t shove a stick in his eye to create the need for surgeries. He didn’t narrow the channel in his spine to require neck surgery. One could argue that he’s had a relatively healthy life and just seems to be falling apart all at once. In any case, I’m sticking with him.

Lion also seems to think I resent (there’s a better word out there, but this will have to do) playing with him because I don’t want sex for myself. While it may be true that I’ve wished he’d have less of a sex drive from time to time, that would change him and I don’t want to change him. I love my Lion just the way he is…minus the interruptions and know-it-all tendencies, that is.

Yes, he still needs a little work but that’s what spankings are for. Once he’s all healed up from last week’s surgery and the upcoming one this week, the spankings will resume. I’m not keeping a tally of things he’s done recently because I’ve suspended the rules for now. If I was I’m not sure I could ever catch up on punishment. Just know that I am paying attention and I’ve been giving him a (less than) gentle snarl from time to time. He should know when he stomps on a rule even if they aren’t in effect.

The biggest issue is interrupting. It’s as if interrupting and surgery go hand-in-hand. I haven’t really paid attention to this before, but there seems to be a correlation. Maybe it’s fear. Maybe it’s uncertainty. Maybe it’s annoyance that all this keeps happening to him. Regardless, it’s annoying to me. I’ll help him through things, but if I can’t finish a sentence I don’t even want to start one. Then I get quiet and he wonders what’s wrong. Nah. It’s easier just to growl back at him until things go back to normal and I can take a swipe at him.

Be afraid, Lion. Be very afraid.

Saturday night, my drought ended. All day long I had delightful horny thoughts. After dinner, before 9 PM, we snuggled and Mrs. Lion’s hand found its way tween my legs. It didn’t take long before I have a delightful orgasm. 15 days had passed since my last one. Of course, for at least a week of that time my spirit was willing, but my medicated body wouldn’t cooperate.

Mrs. Lion has the idea that if I’m unable to perform, and get close enough to be edged, I’m not truly horny. For that reason, she doesn’t count the time when I plateaued as a normal part of waiting. Would that that was true. I was very surprised that I couldn’t get past that frustrating point all those days. I really got more frustrated than I would have had I been able to reach the edge over and over as Mrs. Lion likes. There’s a good deal of truth in the notion that the brain is the true sex organ.

The medications I’ve been taking are new to me and they produce difficult, sometimes-insidious side effects. For example, those glaucoma pills. They didn’t shut off desire but they made it impossible for me to express it. They also made me very tired and I ended up sleeping a good deal of time.

If you think about it, the whole concept of “horny” is an emotional state, not a physical one. Obviously, running around with an erection is a pretty good sign you want sex. But once you pass your 30th birthday, the likelihood that being horny is directly wired to your penis becomes less likely. I know that for me, the penis portion of the program generally needs direct stimulation to get hard. In no way does that mean the rest of me isn’t in serious heat.

Wanting sex and being physically prepared to have it don’t necessarily follow each other. Years of enforced male chastity as taught me that wanting, even desperately craving sex doesn’t mean I get to ejaculate even though Mrs. Lion is masturbating me at the time. Any guy practicing male chastity quickly learns that there is no direct connection between ejaculation and stimulation. There is also no direct connection between being able to ejaculate and desperately needing to. The principle recreational benefit to a keyholder is enjoying the show a truly frustrated male puts on. More subtly, feeling strong desire without the ability to express it is really painful.

That’s what happened to me with those pills. Mrs. Lion had no trouble getting me hard. I could feel the tension building inside me. Then, it wouldn’t build any further. Mrs. Lion soldiered on and I could not produce the arousal she wanted. Here I was fully erect and unable to get even close to coming.

That experience made me think about those other times when Mrs. Lion wasn’t able to either get me hard or get me aroused enough. I realize that those times my body betrayed me. I was ready; boy was I ready! I wasn’t physically demonstrating this to Mrs. Lion. It could be something hormonal. Maybe some essential chemical was being suppressed by the medication. Other times, perhaps worry about work or some other stressor got between my brain and Mrs. Lion’s weenie.

She’s very understanding about times like this; up to a point. She happily accepts that there are times I just don’t “want” sex. She believes it’s because I’m not horny. Therefore, the days I can’t perform shouldn’t be counted toward how long I wait in frustration for my next ejaculation.

There are times that she is right. Many of the times she is misunderstanding. I want sex, just something inside me isn’t cooperating. I don’t believe this is ED, unless the E stands for emotion as well as erection. More often than not, in me this manifests by the ability to get hard and then get stuck south of ejaculation. Does that mean I don’t want to ejaculate? Absolutely not. I want it but somehow I can’t move past a certain level of arousal.

This isn’t unique to me or to male chastity. It happens to a lot of men. If it happens consistently, the solution is for the sexual partner to keep going even if it takes a very long time. In my case, that will work a good portion of the time. It’s frustrating to both of us when this happens.

In most sexual relationships, if the man takes a long time to ejaculate, it’s a good thing. Remaining hard and interested for a lengthy period of time, gives his partner lots of opportunities for orgasms. Premature or early ejaculation, on the other hand, is frustrating because his partner doesn’t have enough time to get off.

In an orgasm denial/control relationship like mine, speedy ejaculation is a very positive attribute. If Mrs. Lion only had to rub a minute or two to get me to the edge, she would expend a great deal less energy. We talked about this a few weeks ago. I got the sense that she was wondering if there wasn’t something I could do to speed me up. I had done a lot of research on the subject. The general medical agreement is that the amount of time it takes a man from erection to ejaculation can’t be changed through training. Mrs. Lion was a little disappointed when I told her.

It’s odd that in a normal intercourse-intensive relationship, my long run up time would be considered an advantage. In our relationship it’s a tiring exercise to get me to the point Mrs. Lion desires. It’s a little funny. In a vanilla relationship, taking 10 to 15 minutes to ejaculate would make my wife a very lucky lady. If I could get off in three minutes or less, Mrs. Lion would be lucky in our relationship. A classic case of sexual irony.

[Mrs. Lion – I vaguely remember our conversation about Lion being faster. I don’t remember being disappointed that he can’t. Edging him takes as long as it takes. There’s no rush.]

I’ve been spinning my wheels trying to pack things. The hardest part so far is figuring out where to stack the bags of garbage as I go. Not only are we moving into a smaller house, but we moved a lot of crap with us from New York. Despite throwing out a lot before we moved and throwing out more once we got here, we still kept way too much. And then, of course, we accumulated more. Even though I don’t seem to be making much of a dent, I’m tired and sore by the end of the day. Not to worry. I saved some energy for fun.

Lion was correct. He was very horny. He always makes it sound like he’s been horny forever with no release. Obviously, he hasn’t been horny at all for the past week or so. The drug he was taking and worrying about surgery was preventing it.

He was hard almost immediately. I debated just giving him an orgasm right away. On one hand, I was worried that an orgasm might build up pressure in his eye. Not eye pressure itself, but pressure from the straining of orgasm. But then I figured edging would create pressure as well. Can’t win.

I didn’t want to stop the proceedings to ask Lion what he thought of my pressure concerns. He probably would have rolled his eyes at me. So I continued on my merry way. Still, I think I only edged him once or twice before he got his orgasm.

I figured he deserved an orgasm. Not because he’d been waiting so long, but because he’s been through a lot lately. And he’s going through more on Thursday. Not to mention his anxiety about moving.

I forget how crazy he gets when we talk about moving. He’s happy to go through things to get rid of it, but don’t ask him to think about where the remaining stuff will go in the new house or how it will get there. No problem. We’re nowhere near ready for that yet.