penis in jail bird chastity device
This is where Lion stayed last night. He got spanked and put on his naughty stool. No sex. No unlock for any attention. (Click image to see larger)

Sometimes I get frazzled. Lion has a lot of ideas and sometimes he’s very adamant about them. I allow him to overwhelm me. When we haven’t been sleeping well and I’m tired it gets worse. The other day he was adamant about how to make the iced tea, how to cover the punishment stool, and that his balls need to be tied back through his legs when he sits on that stool. By yesterday morning I was done with suggestions. I didn’t want to hear what I should be doing. I didn’t want to look at any panties he found. It took quite a while to get back to normal.

Despite not wanting to hear anything, I did get suggestions that whomping his butt would make me feel better. I doubted it. It hasn’t so far. Why would last night be any different? Still, he did need to be punished for making me feel bad. He needed to know that what he was doing will not be tolerated. It may take me a day or two to get my legs under me, but he will be punished for making me feel bad.

We had a lot going on last night. A few chores needed to be done. A Lion needed to be whomped. And Lion was ever so helpful when he offered to forgo punishment so I wouldn’t be so busy. What a guy! I’d already decided he’d get spanked and then spend some time on the stool in the corner. I was thinking of soaping his mouth, but then I came up with an idea Lion would dislike more.

Hairbrush paddle

I whomped him with the hairbrush paddle (image, right). It’s a handy size, but heavy, solid wood one-half-inch thick. I got into his crack with it. His shoulder was hurting so I stopped a few times so he could get more comfortable. In the end, it probably wasn’t a bad spanking. No bruising. No blood. His buns were quite rosy though. I was concerned about his shoulder so I stopped. I brought in the stool (below, right) and put it behind the door. I told him to sit there in the corner and think about making me feel bad. And he should think about why he wasn’t going to be unlocked too. He’d told me he was very horny earlier in the day. I knew he wouldn’t want to stay caged.

naughty stoolSilly boy that he is, later on he told me that I should have put him across my knee to spank him and that he probably shouldn’t ever be unlocked after a punishment. He really needs to stop with the “shoulds”. Wasn’t it “shoulds” that got him into trouble in the first place?

As predicted, it didn’t make me feel better to spank him. I’m still concerned with where I should hit and where I shouldn’t. How hard. How long. Plus, I don’t want to hit him when I’m angry at him. I know there’s little chance I’ll actually hurt him and I know he won’t hate me for hitting him, but I just don’t like the idea of hitting him when I’m angry. Call it one of my hard limits. Non-negotiable.

naughty stool
Here is the stool we covered with tread tape. We added 36-grit sandpaper stripe down the middle. I felt this from the second I sat on the modified stool.

One idea that Mrs. Lion had some time ago was to make me sit on something rough after a spanking. More recently, the idea of corner time was introduced to my punishments. I stood in the corner the first time we tried it. It was hard on my legs. Of course, I thought that was part of the punishment, but Mrs. Lion thought I could sit in the corner. That led to the concept of a naughty stool that could be coated with rough stuff. Painful sitting and corner time!

On our last trip, we bought a wood stool and covered it with tread tape. This is rough, sandpaper-like material that is used on decks, ladders, and other places where a good grip is needed. We tried it, and while it was a bit scratchy on my bare butt, it wasn’t really very uncomfortable. We decided to up the ante.

I went to Home Depot in search of something a bit rougher to add interest to my stool. I know, stupid lion finds ways to be tortured. This was definitely a “dig your own grave” moment. In the tool section, by the belt sanders, there was an array of sanding belts. The coarsest was a 36 grain belt. It hurt to just touch the surface. Naturally, I bought it along with some contact cement to attach it to the naughty stool.

After dinner, I showed my purchase to Mrs. Lion. We didn’t have enough of the nasty sandpaper to cover the entire stool. She decided a single strip down the middle would be enough. I argued, stupidly, that we should have a wider area. No, she put her paw down. A single stripe it would be.

This wasn’t easy material to work with. It was uncomfortable to hold. We cut a strip and using the contact cement, firmly attached it to the naughty stool. I tried it out. Oh yes! Just a few seconds was very uncomfortable. A longer stay will certainly be miserable.

I pointed out to Mrs. Lion that my balls were dangling safely in front of the stool. Being ever-so-helpful, I suggested she could lasso my balls and then pull them under me as I sit down. She is an expert ball wrangler. She didn’t like that suggestion. I later learned that it wasn’t so much that it was a bad idea, as it was me offering way too much help. That annoys her.

I have no doubt that just sitting on that stool for any length of time will be miserable. One minute will feel like ten. I can’t imagine how it will feel on my freshly-spanked bottom as I sit in the corner.

Ok, I realize that I engineered this. But it was something Mrs. Lion also wanted. Maybe she wouldn’t have selected the 36 grit sanding belt. Sanding belts of any grit are designed with the abrasive particles further apart so that the moving belt will eject material removed from the work. In terms of discomfort, the more widely spaced grit allows each sharp piece to dig further into my tender, just-spanked hide.

This is the top in me coming out. I can’t help it. Mrs. Lion knows. Sometimes it amuses her that I give her tools to torture me. Other times she gets annoyed that I am getting something she didn’t ask for. In this case she is amused. She wanted the naughty stool to have sharper teeth. I won’t be laughing when I have to spend some time on it. I’ll have plenty of time to consider my Home Depot purchase.

Last night, I was punished for upsetting Mrs. Lion recently. Julie, of StrictJulieSpanks helpfully suggested that I should be punished if Mrs. Lion feels out of sorts whether or not I had anything to do with what bothered her. Mrs. Lion decided to take her advice. So, last night I got the hairbrush paddle from my thighs to the top of my butt. She didn’t neglect spreading my cheeks and applying her paddle to my cleft. Ouch!

After the spanking, she moved the naughty stool into the corner and directed me to sit down. I don’t know how long I spent there but I could feel each sharp bit of grit in the new red stripe. My balls escaped, hanging safely in front of the stool. I continued feeling it for hours after I was released. Mrs. Lion wants to apply more of the 36-grit sanding belt to the stool. I suppose we will do that later this week. Poor lion!

Lion says we don’t fight enough. Presumably, if we fought more, I’d punish him more often. If history has told us anything, it’s that this is not true. I don’t like confrontation. I get even more quiet in a fight. I may stick up for myself for a bit, but then I get quiet. Years of fighting with my ex left me with one conclusion – I am wrong. Well, two conclusions – I also hate fighting.

Yes, I can eliminate fighting if I just whip out a paddle and show him who’s boss. “All I have to do”, you say. Easy peasy lemon squeezy. Yup. Sure. Lion even says I should feel better after I punish him. So far I’ve been concentrating on spanking him correctly – hitting him in all the right spots while avoiding the wrong spots. I haven’t really thought about what he’s done and the fact that he’s paying for it. Somehow I think that will make me feel worse.

I guess we’ll find out tonight. I’m supposed to punish Lion for stomping all over me while I made iced tea last night. I was going to do it one way but his way was better. He was sure of it. He had no idea how I was going to do it, but he was right. And this morning he wrote a comment to my post from yesterday. It sounded like he was trying to justify being snarky. The thing is, he wasn’t wrong. I am inconsistent. But it made me feel bad and he’s supposed to pay for making me feel bad. Even if I feel worse doing it. I remain unconvinced. Obviously.

He feels bad for making me feel bad. I told him I need to grow a pair. He says my feeling bad for punishing him is all part of growing a pair. This reminds me of the other day when he was mad at me for being mad at him. And then I was mad at him for being mad at me for being mad at him. It’s all very circular reasoning. Around and around we go.

man wearing pull-up
These are the Depends Real Fit adult pull-up’s. This is what I wear when told to. You can see that from the outside it is low-risk for discovery. But when I wear one, I know what it is.

You may be wondering about me wearing panties and diapers. Both seem like rather exotic kinks and not necessarily related to enforced male chastity or domestic discipline. Do I have a secret need to be a baby or a woman? Absolutely not! Then why do it? Why write about it?

I’ll give you a hint. If I wanted to wear diapers or panties, Mrs. Lion wouldn’t put me into them. I know what you are thinking. Why did Lion suggest Mrs. Lion use panties and diapers?

Fair question. I want to feel Mrs. Lion’s power. She is in the beginning stages of learning to be dominant with me. She exercises her power in fits and bursts. Her role hasn’t become natural to her. Panty and diaper training are fairly easy to do and affect me as long as I wear them.  It would never have occurred to Mrs. Lion to put me into either.

If you’re a guy, you probably wince when you picture yourself in a wet diaper. I do too. Wearing panties all day probably has a similar effect. Starting to see where this is going?  Let’s consider a scenario. You are put in an adult diaper; actually disposable underwear. That’s what they call grownup pull-ups. When at home, you have to use the diaper to pee. You also have to use it if you are not at work. Sooner or later, you will pee while out shopping or something. You will have to wait until you get home to change it. Not fun. Right? Submissive? For sure!

That’s the point. You are doing something because your partner required you to do it. She can even make you wear it to work. Now, it would be pretty hard for me to change myself and dispose of the used diaper at the office. I could, but that might take things to a level I’m not ready to reach. But I could be required to wear one and pull it down to pee. that works without any serious danger of discovery. The thing is, I can’t not be aware I am in a diaper. I am constantly aware of Mrs. Lion’s power.

It’s not quite the same with panties. I am very aware of them when I am told to put them on or when I am wearing nothing but the panties around the house. But once I have pants on, I am only aware of them when I need to use the bathroom. Then, I am sharply reminded of who’s the boss.

There’s a theme here. I am being made to wear underwear I would never wear on my own. I am being made to wear them all day; sometimes all night too. Discovery would be horribly humiliating. Lots of risk. Oh boy! Exciting and very submissive! It has nothing to do with cross dressing. It’s all about obedience.

The real value of panty or diaper training is that it provides a long-term, humiliating form of domination without much input at all from the dominant partner. Both diapers and panties are inexpensive and humiliating ways to dominate your partner. By the way, even if you don’t have to use it, it’s impossible to forget you are wearing a diaper.

Only you and your partner know that under your clothes you are being secretly dominated. I think that’s a big turn on.