A camping-out chaos from our recent move has replaced our routines. Mrs. Lion has been fighting a virus that has made moving difficult. She finally feels better and is back to unpacking. She just came into my office to show me a treasure she unearthed. It’s the very painful bloodwood paddle she enjoys applying to my bottom. She was smiling when she showed it to me. She said that she hasn’t found the strap that holds me down, but is confident it is going to emerge soon.

That strap does a pretty good job of holding me down. After a few minutes, it tends to slip down and needs adjustment and retightening. Being her helpful mate, I found something that might solve that problem, a heavy-duty safety harness that fastens around the waist. It has D-rings on either side. I’ve ordered cinch straps that will allow Mrs. Lion to cinch me down to the spanking bench with no chance of me moving.

She just returned to inform me that she found another box that contained more paddles and the tie-down strap. She said that there is a third box with more spanking implements. Howerver, she is happy with what she’s found. That means I won’t be.

Our move and Mrs. Lion’s treasure hunting have made it very obvious that we both want spanking to continue. In contrast, my pubic hair has been growing for over two months, and Mrs. Lion feels no urgency to set up our waxing equipment. I’m not rushing her to find it; I’m just pointing out that she made spanking a priority. Waxing is arguably less work than spanking, yet Mrs. Lion’s clear choice is the paddle.

She’s admitted that she doesn’t mind spanking me. She isn’t turned on doing it, but doesn’t mind the activity. I think that she may like spanking me. I’m not saying that it’s sexual for her; just that it’s a kind of fun. OK, I want to think that she has a good time doing it. We both know that I need her to spank me regularly. It’s how I’m wired. We also know that the game of catching me breaking a rule and then getting punished is fun for both of us.

Even after all these years, we still haven’t worked out just how often my bottom needs tanning. Calculating this is a little complicated. Maybe we need to consider how often Mrs. Lion needs to spank me. Once we both admit that spanking is more than just punishment and want it, we can approach it more comfortably. I suspect that the outcome will be much more frequent trips to the spanking bench.

Mrs. Lion has been a bit under the weather. We canceled our trip to see “The Fantasticks.” It’s over an hour away to the theater. She needs to take it easy after work. Once she feels better, she plans to spank me. She intends to improvise since she hasn’t located her paddle collection boxes. She’s tried my hairbrush once or twice in the past. It is very effective. I just bought a bath brush. Believe it or not, I need to use it in the shower. I’m not unaware of its potential to bruise my bottom as well.

She surprised me when she said that she also hadn’t found the strap she used to keep me still on the spanking bench. No, I wasn’t surprised that she couldn’t find it. I was surprised she mentioned it. She said spanking me is much easier when I am strapped down. Live and learn. She was a little surprised that I wrote that my throat sometimes hurt after all my yelps and screams. It doesn’t happen too often.

Every time we move, some stuff disappears. In the move before this one, my point-and-shoot digital camera vanished. I bought a new one. I wonder if I shouldn’t order a new strap for the spanking bench. I’ll hold off until we’ve had a better chance of locating it.

We both know that too much time has passed since the last time I was spanked. Our routines have been disrupted between packing, moving, and unpacking. I’m not sure, but I think that Mrs. Lion also misses our disciplinary activities. After all, she has been spanking me for more than two decades. That’s a long time to be doing something you don’t particularly like.

One thing that I’ve wondered about is whether my vocal reactions to her swats affect her. On some occasions, she has preliminarily ended a spanking when I was making a lot of unhappy noises. Other times, she ignored my protests and continued far beyond the ten-minute timer. I’m always grateful when she stops early, but later, when the sting recedes, I wish she had continued. It’s probably better for both of us if she sends a consistent message that I can’t control a spanking. If she sets out to spank for ten minutes, then she should follow through.

I’ll be sorry I wrote this.

lion is naked and strapped down to his spanking benchl he has a strap across his back that keeps him in place during his spanking.

I know a spanking is coming. Whenever I think about it, I get a pleasant tingle “down there.” I can’t deny that I want my bottom paddled. When Mrs. Lion pulls out the spanking bench and motions for me to mount it, I start to feel myself getting hard. I don’t get an erection, but the sensation is there. I lie on the bench lengthwise, with my feet barely touching the floor. It feels good.

Mrs. Lion gets the strap and puts it around the bench and my waist. She cinches it tight like putting a saddle on a horse. I test its security. No, I can’t move my hips at all. I am pinned in position, unable to escape what I know is going to happen to me. I’m a little worried. It’s like that first hill on a roller coaster;  you go up and up. It’s exciting, but you know you are in for a terrifying drop when you reach the top.

She starts with some warmup swats. They don’t hurt. I take a deep breath and enjoy the sensation. Then Mrs. Lion says, “Alexa, set a ten-minute timer.”

The device responds obediently, “Ten-minute timer starting now.”

The gentle swats get harder. They sting, but I still like them. She pauses and gets a different implement. The first swat makes me cry out in pain. A second follows on my other cheek. Why did I say I wanted to be spanked? This is no fun at all. The beating continues, a few not-so-bad swats followed by one or two that make me scream. When will the ten minutes be up?

She continues without pause for a while. Then she stops. She is getting a different paddle. The first swat makes me want to levitate. I scream. She ignores my cry. My world is all pain. I tell her to stop. She doesn’t. I wonder if the neighbors can hear me. I yelp at every swat. When will that timer go off?’

After what feels like hours, I hear the welcome beeping of the timer. Mrs. Lion says, “Alexa, stop.” The beeps stop, but her paddle keeps hurting my bottom. She’s not done. Hope drains away like rainwater down a sewer. I know my bottom is bleeding. She doesn’t care. All I can do is scream and endure. The strap around my waist is a bit looser and and I wriggle. It doesn’t help. There is no hope. Why did I want this? I must be crazy.

lion's spanked ass after 3 days of swats

Finally, she stops. “You’re done,” she says, putting down her paddle. She doesn’t loosen the strap around my waist. Instead, she gets a wet washcloth and gently wipes the blood off my bottom. Then she removes the strap and I get up and lie down in bed.

It doesn’t hurt while I’m lying on my back, but the pain returns when I sit. My throat hurts from the screams and yelps. The skin on my bottom feels like leather. I feel that pleasant twinge again. OK, I have to admit it. I love being spanked.

Mrs. Lion has unpacked almost all of the kitchen. We now have a table and chairs set for meals. The pots and pans are hanging over the counter, and our dishes are unpacked. She’s getting used to her “atomic” (induction) range. It’s incredibly fast heating pots. It’s also Mrs. Lion’s birthday and we will have some Carvel ice cream cake to celebrate.

All of our BDSM and sexual activity is on hold. If I’m up for it, Mrs. Lion said I can have an orgasm. Yes, please.

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Moving is exhausting. We’ll have to work hard to restore our normal rules and punishments. The spanking bench is covered with stuff pulled from cartons but not put away. The massage table and waxing stuff are scattered or still packed. I’m just learning to find my way around our house. Before we can return to fun and games, there is a lot to do. It’s been almost two months since Mrs. Lion spanked me.

I hope we can find our way out of this mess soon.

Happy birthday, Mrs. Lion!