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In: BDSM, Lion's Journal, Punishment

Lion''s Naughty Stool
This is my naughty stool. We bought it Saturday aand covered it with anti-skid tape to assure my freshly-spanked bottom will feel it. [Click image to enlarge]
[Sunday morning] I managed to get some olive oil on my shirt last night when we went out to dinner. That earned me more punishment. I had already racked one up for spilling the day before. I asked Mrs. Lion if she wanted to “bank” this punishment for a later date. She said that instead, if she wanted she could add a second punishment desert, like both corner time and mouth soaping. I shrugged.

During the day we did some shopping. We went to Walmart. Mrs. Lion took me to the Ladies underwear department. I had to stand there while she took a lot of time selecting panties for me. She would hold up a pair to show me. My reaction, I think, guided her purchases. I ended up with seven pairs of panties. Four of them are thongs. The rest, have very high legs designed to expose maximum cheek. They are a combination of pink, lace, or horrid patterns. She hasn’t revealed what I am going to do with all that lingerie,

We also bought a “punishment stool”. It’s a standard, high, wood stool. We went to Home Depot and bought a roll of anti-skid tape. This is very gritty tape designed to provide steady footing on ladder rungs. The tape is extra sticky and extra gritting. When we got home, we cut the tape to completely cover the top of the stool.

After dinner, Mrs. Lion brought out a large wooden spoon. The back, hitting surface has a patch of the anti-skid tape on it. We tried over-the-knee spanking again. This time she sat on one end of the couch and I lay over her lap with my chest on the couch. It worked!

After a thorough spanking; it was at least 300 swats, Mrs. Lion put the punishment stool in the corner and told me to sit on it. I did. It bit into my tender butt. She went into the bathroom. I heard the water running. She came out. Her hands were soapy and she had her bar of bath soap. She rubbed her soapy hands through my mouth and then inserted the bar of soap. I bit down on it.

I sat there a long time. Drool dripped al the way down the front of my chest. I hated every minute of it. When it was done, Mrs. Lion said I had been in the corner for twenty minutes It was the longest twenty minutes of my life. I felt and tasted the effects for hours.

Surprisingly, the spoon turned out to be one of the milder spanking implements that Mrs. Lion uses. Don’t get me wrong, it hurt. It just didn’t hurt as much as many of her other toys. I suggested that her hairbrush-shaped paddle is the most severe paddle for OTK. Her long-handled, bloodwood paddle — it has a tiny 3-inch spanking end — is beyond doubt the meanest tools in her bag. I hate even seeing it.

After I did the best job I could rinsing out my mouth and taking a shower to get the droll washed off we relaxed and watched a movie. After the movie, we went to bed. Mrs. Lion snuggled and then got out the Magic Wand. She gave me a great orgasm. I went to sleep smiling.

We’re on our way out now. I asked her what I should wear. Would it be a thong? Maybe the yucky lace? Nope. she wants me to wear my regular underwear with the training collar. Go figure.

By:
In: BDSM, Lion's Journal, Living with a female led relationship

Spanking shirt
My naughty shirt arrived yesterday along with some girly stuff. Poor Lion [Click image to enlarge.]
Yesterday, I got a comment from Julie of Strict Jule Spanks. She’s become an informal mentor to us both. We’ve only exchanged a couple of emails, but that correspondence, her comments, and her blog have been very helpful in how Mrs. Lion spanks and now forced cross dressing.

Her latest comment really turns up the embarrassment in dressing me in women’s clothes. Mrs. Lion has been shopping online for things for me to wear. She likes shopping online; so do I. It’s painless for me when Mrs. Lion shows me something she might purchase. I make a face and then she goes on with her iPad. What UPS will bring is going to be a surprise for me.

Julie suggested that it’s a mistake to buy online. She says it is more fun to take me underwear shopping and hold panties up against me while Mrs. Lion makes her purchase decisions. When she’s done, I have to bring the items to the cashier and pay for them. Hoo boy!

That will certainly embarrass me. One benefit of being locked into a chastity device is that if I get aroused, no visible erection will  be produced. This is the first case where I find a real benefit in being caged. It turns out that it may be more embarrassing to buy panties than to actually wear them.

On Wednesday night, we had do-it-yourself hot fudge sundaes. I dripped a bit of hot fudge on my shirt. One of my rules is not to get food on my clothing. I figured that I would be punished on Thursday night, our regular punishment day.

Nope. After we finished eating and got the bowls into the dishwasher, Mrs. Lion went to her behind-the-door paddle collection, selected the paddle with points on one side (the Tenderizer) and told me to lie face-down on the bed. She then gave me a very thorough spanking with at least 200 swats. There were some drops of blood where the tenderizer’s pointed side hit me. She only used it for a few swats.

When she was done, my butt was burning. She then pointed to the corner and told me to stand in it. I have no idea how long she put me there. It was very difficult to think about anything other than the pain in my bottom. Corner time is definitely a spanking magnifier. She kept me there long enough for my legs to get tired (a good thing from a punishment point of view). When I was finally released, I gratefully got back on the bed.

She asked me about my corner time. I told her about feeling the pain of the spanking. She said, “Good.” I told her my legs were getting tired. She said that maybe we could get a stool for me to sit on. We have a board with rough, gritty non-slip floor tape on it. She said that would help me feel my spanking.

Ever helpful, I suggested she could line the seat of the stool with the tape. We still have a supply of it. She said we would have to figure out what we want to get and  where we could store it when not in use. I suppose it could go in the garage and could fetch it, and return it when we are done.

We’re still struggling with over-the-knee spanking. Our recent attempt felt a great deal different to me from when I lie on the bed for my beating. We haven’t found a comfortable way for Mrs. Lion to do this. I hope we can figure this out. I imagine that the spanking will be much more meaningful and severe if I am across her lap.

We keep learning. Even though we are in our fourth year of enforced chastity and our second in domestic discipline, progress is slow. My knowledge as a top and educator is surprisingly unhelpful. I’m the bottom and I can’t really teach my top. I also admit that we are doing things I’ve never tried when I was a top. I never gave OTK spankings. My victim was generally tied to equipment.

That’s why advice from a practicing female disciplinarian is so helpful. So far, thanks to Julie, Mrs. Lion’s spankings have become much longer and effective. If she follows Julie’s advice on cross dressing, we will benefit from her experience. Maybe “benefit” isn’t the right word from my perspective. No, not from my position.

By:
In: BDSM, Lion's Journal

{Friday, dinner time} Mrs. Lion has been writing a lot about making me wear a diaper. It is easy for her, since all she has to do is tell me to put one on. It provides me with varying levels of discomfort. From a play perspective it’s an attractive option. If she makes me wear the diaper when we run errands, it is a bit more interesting for me. For some reason she hasn’t wanted me to do that. Of all the issues involved with diaper wearing, going out in one is not a bit of a problem for me. Well, no worse than having to wear one at all.

I went to my doctor today to get clearance for surgery. I am in excellent health. So, all that’s left is scheduling the dreaded event. This is relevant to the diaper discussion because I am limited in how we can play. My shoulder hurts and makes it unwise to tie me down. So, we are limited to non-bondage activities. That leaves a lot of options. So far, Mrs. Lion has only mentioned diapers.

The bad kind of pain, my shoulder, distracts me from the sort of BDSM play that I love to hate. It also makes it hard for me to remember my rules. It just sucks energy and forces me to focus on it. Both of us spend hours researching the surgery and recuperation. I am very happy that Mrs. Lion is committed to finding some play this weekend. It’s a constant that will help us both remember that my injury isn’t going to own our lives.

It’s been four days since my last orgasm. We are back to the standard lion chastity routine.  Despite the pain, I’m very horny. This offers my lioness teasing opportunities. I’m sure she’ll write about our activities in her post tomorrow.

By:
In: BDSM, Lion's Journal

It was very kind of Mrs. Lion to decide I don’t have to wear a male chastity t-shirt at Kinkfest. While I’ve never kept my current BDSM interest secret, I didn’t advertise either. It’s true that I have been an educator at these events for many years. People attending my workshops, like you, get an intimate view of what I do as far as the workshop’s subject. I wanted to do one on male chastity this year, but I made that known to the organizers too late to be considered. Mrs. Lion wondered why I would be sensitive about revealing my interest in male chastity if I am happy to offer public workshops on the subject.

These events are attended by people of all sorts. Some are completely unaware of our kink. Others might view wearing a chastity device as an invitation to treat the wearer, me, with disrespect they think a “sub” should accept. I’ve seen this behavior in the past directed at guys who were obviously submissive. Lion that I am, attempting to treat me that way is likely to go poorly. I choose to avoid such annoying, energy-draining encounters.

People who attend a workshop on a given subject are willing to learn and tend to treat practitioners with respect. That’s why I don’t mind sharing my submission to Mrs. Lion in that part of a public venue. But in the open space there is just too much opportunity for unwelcome attention.

That brings me to the central issue: submitting to someone does not a “sub” make. The people who tend to refer to each other as “doms” and “subs”, also like to generalize about what that means. Those terms may be useful on the Internet, but in real life they are ludicrous. Virtually everyone can be dominant or submissive at various times. Dominant isn’t a noun. It’s an adjective. It describes behavior, not a person.

I am an aggressive, dominant male. I always have been. In the past, when not inflicting pain on willing victims, I have enjoyed receiving sensation play myself. No one, including the woman topping me, considered me submissive. So here I am in a full-time power exchange. There is absolutely no doubt that Mrs. Lion is in charge and controls significant parts of my life. Does that make her a “dom” and me a “sub”? Please!

Life just isn’t that simple. What we write about here is the part of our life where Mrs. Lion is the boss and exercises significant control over me. It’s very real. The male chastity and domestic discipline are 100% in force. None of it is so-called play. But that is only a slice of who we are as individuals and as a couple. Most of the time we are equal partners and share everything. We support one another and share responsibilities. I make decisions for both of us some of the time. Mrs. Lion does the same at other times.

As Mrs. Lion has written, to most of the world we are a normal vanilla couple. You, of course know we aren’t. The reason we “pass” as vanilla is because most of the time we are. But in private, as you know, I better follow my rules and I get orgasms only when Mrs. Lion decides to give me one.

People are too complex to label so simply as “doms” and “subs”. We are complex, multi-dimensional critters. The Internet is the only place where it works to reduce folks to such simple stereotypes.