Lion Isn’t Crazy

If the forecasters are to be believed, we’ll have another 2-4 or possibly 5-8 inches of snow from this afternoon into tomorrow. Of course, that depends on where you live. Traffic cameras show the main roads are pretty good, but there are no traffic cameras on our road. There’s not much more than snow on our road. And it sounds like it will stay that way until May, at this rate.

Oh, poor us! Stuck in a house by ourselves. With nothing to do but lounge around. And let the dog out every five minutes. I still owe Lion some swats for spilling food on his shirt and some other transgression I’ve forgotten. I didn’t do it last night because we were both tired and Lion wasn’t feeling very well. Stupidly, it occurred to me about a half hour ago that I can give him his swats any time I want. Duh! He’s watching a movie, but when it’s over I want to see a Lion moon side up on the bed eagerly awaiting his punishment.

I’ll pass on the “eagerly” part. He may eagerly anticipate a spanking, but not right before it begins. Then he’s wondering why the hell he ever asked me to swat him in the first place. I don’t think he actually feels remorse for whatever he did to deserve it, but he does probably mentally make an appointment to have his head examined. And then the silly boy laments how much it hurts while I’m whomping him.

Hello? It’s supposed to hurt.

I know he wants me to enjoy spanking him, but mostly I just shake my head and wonder why he’s making me do this. “Making” in the same sense of a child making his parent spank him for misbehaving. No one is forcing me. No one is forcing Lion. I guess it’s the same head-shaking a teacher does when a student punches someone right in front of them. Did you really just do that? Don’t you realize I’ll have to punish you? Are you crazy?

Nope. Lion isn’t crazy. He does realize I’ll have to punish him. And he didn’t do it on purpose. In the case of spilling food, he can’t help it. Ironically, I’ve been spilling food more since he’s been punished for it. Luckily no one is watching me. In the case of interrupting, Lion certainly can help it. He’s been trying. He’ll sometimes get, “But what…” before he stops himself. He can be taught! I don’t count those as interruptions. He’s obviously trying to behave.

I’m pretty sure his movie is over right now. I’ll just take a stroll into the bedroom with my paddle….

Wet Diapers And Frilly Panties

As Mrs. Lion wrote, we’re snowed in. This is an amazing event. Most years we don’t get any snow at all, and when we do it’s two or 3 inches. In the more-than-10 years we’ve been living here I can only remember a few small snowfalls. Since there are almost no snowplows, we will have to wait until nature takes its course and the snow melts enough to let us get out. Fortunately, we both have four-wheel-drive vehicles.

Meanwhile back in the lion’s den, Mrs. Lion is making me wear diapers today (Saturday). As usual, I have to wear a wet diaper until it’s time to pee again and then change just in time to wet the new one. I am sitting in a wet, heavy pair of adult incontinence underwear. Yuck.

I should learn to keep my mouth shut. This morning, I reminded Mrs. Lion that she said she would be locking me up. As she wrote yesterday, she doesn’t want to appear to be doing something just because I told her. Her solution is to substitute a wet diaper for my locking cock ring or Jail Bird.

I wonder if Mrs. Lion’s newfound interest in diapering me and making me wear frilly panties is a sign that she’s feeling better. I hope so. Both of these activities have been dormant about a year. I can’t say that I missed them. Of course Mrs. Lion knows that I don’t particularly like wearing women’s underwear or diapers. It’s true that I originally suggested making me wear these things. It’s also true that when she does, I feel her power.

Does this make me crazy? When I’m not sitting in a wet diaper, I sometimes miss that Mrs. Lion doesn’t put me in one more often. The same is true of panties. I’m pretty sure that I’m going to be more horny tonight because of my diaper day. I’m going to be spanked tonight (Remember, I’m writing this on Saturday) because I spilled gravy on my shirt Friday night. Today, after all, is punishment day. And yes, I reminded Mrs. Lion of that.

It may be that Lioness 3.0 has emerged once again. If she has, I’m going to have sore buns much more often. 3.0 has no mercy enforcing her rules. It could be that February is Bruised Lion Month. Sadly, March is when I get the surgery that will put us out of business for several weeks.

I’m really glad that 3.0 has returned. This is a really good time for me to remember the important things. It’s entirely too easy for me to focus on the loss of sensation in my fingers and poor balance. Both conditions should be cured by the operation. In the meantime, I can’t button my shirts. It’s hard to tie my shoes. And, I drop things. I was clumsy enough before this problem. Now it’s just ridiculous.

I’m very grateful that Mrs. Lion is working so hard to help me keep things normal. I guess in our case keeping things normal means sitting in wet diapers and going out in frilly panties.

2 1/2 Hours

I should have listened to Lion when he told me to come home yesterday. But I waited because I was trying to get more hours in at work. I was looking at the traffic cameras and the roads didn’t look all that bad. I left when it seemed a little worse. I forgot about all the other drivers who had the same idea. It took 2 1/2 hours to go 20 miles. Damn snow.

There are worse things than being trapped in by snow on a weekend. Lion could be on a trip somewhere and I’d be alone. I could be on a trip somewhere and Lion could be alone. Those are the two that come to mind immediately. We have food. We have electricity. We have each other. Perfect!

We were tired last night so we didn’t play but we did snuggle. And I’ve been making more of an effort to interact with Lion even if I’m on my iPad. I’m usually paying attention to him anyway but sometimes he catches me while I’m reading something and I don’t hear him. He does the same to me. Last night, he reminded me to check his post for typos and then he kept talking to me in the middle of it. I just think it’s funny when he does that.

This morning, Lion asked if I’m ever going to lock him up again. I said yes. The thing is, if he asks me and I do it then it just looks like I’m doing it because he asked me. There have been a few times I’ve thought of doing it so I ask him to remind me because I’ll probably forget. To me, this isn’t him asking. I suppose I could have said, “Let’s do it!” when he asked me this morning. Maybe that’s the reaction he was hoping for. Or maybe I should find something else to do with him. Maybe today is a good diaper day.

Boner Shy

naked man

It doesn’t look very big,, but it feels like that erection is enormous — not in a good way.
Drawing courtesy of

You hear an awful lot about how guys obsess over their penis size. Speaking strictly for myself, I never gave it a great deal of thought. That’s not to say I’m not curious about it, but not for the reason you might think.

A hard cock is indisputable evidence that a man is sexually aroused. There’s a very big difference between being naked among other people and being naked and aroused among those same people. Women, with their interior plumbing, have to be massively hot before there’s any visible sign that they are in heat.

Every guy growing up experiences unwelcome erections. I can remember sitting in a classroom and for absolutely no reason getting a massive erection. Of course, it pushed my pants out in front of me and made my condition visible to anyone who cared to watch. This was very embarrassing. If you’re a guy you know what I mean.

I’ve never had a problem with nudity. I spent my teenage years in a boys boarding school and communal showers and locker rooms were the norm. I don’t remember anyone sporting an erection in the shower. Had anybody done that, the teasing would have been immediate and gone on forever.

I think you see where this is going. A lot of those feelings stay with us as adults. It’s embarrassing to be naked when others are dressed. This is a common fantasy that sometimes comes true in BDSM scenes. It’s much more humiliating to be hard under those conditions.

I remember some years ago having a conversation with a BDSM play partner. She came from California and I was from New York. In New York, parties and clubs didn’t include sex with BDSM. Occasionally, a guy would be masturbated by his top as part of the scene. It happened to me more than once. But generally, sex was not included.

My California friend invited me to a party. She told me that erections were very welcome in her circle. When she said that I was embarrassed. This is amazingly irrational, since she was one of the people who masturbated me in a scene at a public party. Still, the idea that my hard penis would be encouraged, made me blush.

That’s one way we males are irrational about our dingdongs. Another way I am really irrational is the way I perceive my penis in relation to the rest of my body. When I am aroused it feels like my penis is the most prominent part of me. It’s not so much that I think it’s gigantic; it’s not. It’s just that it feels like it’s my visual center. I believe it’s the first thing anyone will notice. When I look down at it, it appears just enormous to me. It’s this very big thing sticking out of my body.

I suppose that in a way we’re right. There’s something naughty about peeking at somebody’s sex organs. I’m pretty sure that an erection would be the first thing folks would notice if I were nude and had one. But it doesn’t mean that the actual body part covers a disproportionate percentage of my surface area, so to speak.

Most women experience men displaying their penises as shows of pride. Look how big I am! Don’t I turn you on? This could be true in a sexual situation where a guy is addressing a potential or actual sex partner. But in the context of that party, almost everyone there is not a potential sex partner and isn’t sharing the vulnerability of nudity, much less sexual arousal.

Intellectually, I know that what I’m doing is appropriate in the context of the party. On a deeper level, I feel humiliated and embarrassed. The more embarrassed I feel, the more prominent I believe my penis is. I feel like there’s a spotlight on it that follows me through the room. Some of the guests give it a friendly pet or two. It feels good but adds to my humiliation. I’m not used to strangers playing with my penis.

This is really hot stuff. I’ve been to parties where this is happened. Personally I’ve never been in that position. Part of me would really like it. My point, however, has nothing to do with party exposure. It has to do with the way we perceive our penises. Since they offer incontrovertible evidence of sexual arousal, sporting an erection admits something we may not want to share with the world at large.

I may want my sexual partner to know I’m turned on, but I don’t really want other people to know. External sex organs carry some challenges that may make it difficult for people with internal sex organs to understand. For all intents and purposes when I am sexually aroused, anyone who can see me will know it. If Mrs. Lion is sexually aroused, even I won’t know it unless she tells me or lets me use a finger to find out for myself. It’s this public visibility that is at the root of my perception of my penis being so prominent.

Even though I’ve measured it quite a bit, I still have no visceral sense of how big I am down there. Normally, I have a good idea about the size of things. I have a blind spot about measurements between my legs. Yes I know, my erect penis is about 6 inches long and one and three-quarter inches in diameter. I can draw life-size images. I even have a dildo Mrs. Lion cast from my penis. I still can’t internalize what it means.

I suppose I can say something is larger or smaller than my penis. But I can’t feel the proportion of my erection against the rest of me. When I’m hard it feels enormous. It’s like a flagpole signaling my sexual arousal. It’s irrational. I know that. I wonder if other guys feel the same way. Be that as it may, I’m very sure that my male anatomy makes me perceive arousal very differently from females.