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In: Punishment, Mrs Lion Comments, Rules, Spanking

This morning we woke up early despite my not needing to be at work. Actually, the dog woke us up. Apparently, she stuck her nose under the covers in Lion’s face around 6:30. She stared at me around 7. Lion asked if I was up for good or if I wanted to go back to sleep. The good thing about having days off is that it doesn’t matter when we get up. If we get tired later, we can just snooze. Lion certainly will.

I was hungry, but I can usually ignore it for a while. What I really want is a big breakfast like you’d get at iHOP. And it would taste much better if someone else made it. Since neither is possible, we decided on donuts. However, when I went into the kitchen, I saw the coffee pot in pieces in the dish drainer. Uh oh. Lion’s in trouble. Didn’t we just have this problem a little while ago?

After I started the coffee, I told Lion about his mistake. He said, “Poor, Lion.” For the first time, I countered his “poor Lion” with “poor me.” After all, I was the one who had to set it up. He might be the one on the receiving end of the paddle, but I have to do the whomping and I had the added work of the coffee pot. Poor me. Just to get coffee. What is the world coming to?

I suppose the silver lining is that he’ll be at least somewhat turned on by the spanking both before and after. That will work in my favor later when I’m trying to get him to the edge. We didn’t try anything last night. I was tired from my trip to Costco and I had to make up Lion’s pill packs. I sit awkwardly on the bed and can’t move or the bottles will fall over. I guess if I was smart, I’d do it in the kitchen where the bottles wouldn’t fall over. I never thought of that till just now. We do almost everything in the bedroom. Sometimes I wonder why we have the rest of the house.

So Lion will get his punishment. I’ll have to ramp things up a bit because he seems to have trouble with the coffee pot. He still hasn’t set up a camera to check on it. I bet that will happen later today. A Lion can’t be too careful.

By:
In: Lion's Journal, Life with Mrs. Lion

Christmas Eve is here at last. Our turkey breast is defrosting in the fridge. We have the fixings for our Christmas dinner for two. We exchanged gifts earlier. Mrs. Lion got a twelve-inch iPad and I got the smaller one from Santa Lion. We are enjoying our gifts. We upgraded our computers too. Mrs. Lion had been using an old (6 years) HP all-in-one. It was so slow that she could hardly play her SIMS game. She now has a 6-core Dell with lots of memory and a solid-state disk. My computer is the same model but over five years old. I ordered a new one similar to Mrs. Lion’s. My new one will have 8 cores, 32 GB of memory, and a 1TB solid-state disk. If you are technically inclined, all this power is needed to support Photoshop, and get this, MS Word. Word eats up resources with its auto-update feature. While writing, I get frequent stutters. Hopefully, the new box will fix that.

We don’t have a tree. We haven’t had one in years. It seems like too much trouble just for us. One thing we have that has served us very well in the pandemic is our unsociable way of life. We are both very happy with each other’s company and being quarantined is our normal way of life. Tonight, we will snuggle and, if we have any, drink some eggnog. That’s a tradition we have enjoyed since we have been together. We may miss it this year because we don’t go out unless we have to.

The best Christmas gift for me is my life with Mrs. Lion. It seems so improbable that we would have met. We came from different worlds. Thanks to a dating site we connected. I have no idea why she agreed to meet me, but she did. I had absolutely no way of knowing how incredibly well we would fit together. I’ve always been attracted to tomboys. Mrs. Lion is most certainly a tomboy. She played soccer, loves football, and doesn’t mind getting dirty. She’s also developed into a frighteningly good spanker.

We both make sure that the last words we say to each other are “I love you.” It’s a sort of superstition of mine that if I don’t wake up, those will be the last words we share. It may sound sappy, but I go to sleep each night with a smile on my face. I look forward to waking up on Christmas morning next to the most wonderful gift in the world: my sweet lioness.

By:
In: Mrs Lion Comments

I hate the end of the year. Whoever thought it was a good idea to end the calendar with a bunch of holidays was a sadist. I thought it was bad enough when our computer system at work was down. Now the catch-up is worse. I know I finished a project. I got the information from a coworker. Now she says she doesn’t know where I got the information and I have to do it all over again in addition to the other stuff I’ve been assigned. And that’s not even counting the normal year-end things that need to be done.

I guess it’s a good thing all that just happened. I might have been too stressed out last night to give Lion any attention. He must have been pretty horny. He responded quickly when I started playing with my weenie. I got him fairly close to the edge at least once. When he started to lose it, he suggested maybe we needed mechanical intervention. I had no idea if the Magic Wand was charged up or not. I tried to entice him with my hand and it worked for a bit. I decided we were done and then made sure to plug in the Magic Wand. Barring my head exploding from stress, we’ll make use of it tonight.

Today is my last day of the week. We have a four-day paid holiday weekend. If I have my way, we won’t venture out the whole time. I may wander to the mailbox, but no further. We’ll snuggle in bed and watch reruns and/or movies. That’s our favorite kind of holiday. Doing nothing and doing it together. Of course, I might wax him or give him a haircut. There’s a little more to life than snuggling in bed. The dog needs to go out. And in. And out. And in. And we need to make things to eat. And I’ll check the horniness meter to make sure Lion gets much-needed attention.

Actually, that’s how we spend most weekends.

By:
In: Lion's Journal, Sex

This is the time of year that you usually find heart-warming stories of generosity and love. From Dickens “T’was The Night Before Christmas” to O’Henry’s “Gift of the Magi,” sentimental tears are shed. This year, love and goodwill aren’t on many minds. Between a global pandemic and a crazy person in the White House, it’s nearly impossible for even died-in-the-wool optimists to crank up “It’s a Wonderful Life” and shed a tear when a bell rings and another angel gets his wings.

I admit that I’m an optimist, a glass-half-full guy. Even I find it hard to understand how to get through until the end of January. I’ve never counted the days until the presidential inauguration before, but I am now. No matter where I turn, I see the destruction caused by the combination of a lunatic and a virus. It’s a horserace which of the two has done more damage.

In the face of all this, I’m expected to write about sex. Well, maybe that’s going too far. I expect to write about it. As of yesterday, It’s been 23 days since my last orgasm. That’s a new record for us. Only one other time did I wait longer. That was due to surgery and the wait was 28 days. It’s not like I’m in a frenzy begging Mrs. Lion to end my misery. I’m not all that concerned. I can’t explain it, but I’m not.

Mrs. Lion has been trying to help change that. I’m not cooperating. I have posited that my work on my book has used up my sexual energy. That makes zero sense. If anything, it should be revving my engine. I’m sure that in due course Mrs. Lion will get me as frustrated as she likes. If she follows through with her threats of anal penetration and relocking in a chastity device, she will probably jump-start my libido. If not, it’s OK, I’ll just read The New York Times and cry.