Last night was my turn to have an off night. One of our football games ran late and then I wasn’t feeling well. When I apologized to Lion for not playing he shrugged it off and said it was just one more night not to have to deal with tiny clothes pins. He said he doesn’t know why he doesn’t learn to shut up. I don’t know either. I was okay the first time I took a picture of the nasty little suckers on my hand, but we retook the picture from a different angle to get a better view. That second time around was a killer. And that’s just my hand, not anything as sensitive as Lion’s cock.
I’m happy just to pull them out every once in a while as a “treat”. I’m not sure why Lion volunteered to take them every night so he can handle a ring around his cock head. He wonders if he’s really a masochist. I have no doubt that he is. He wonders if he’s really stupid for asking for all this pain. I have no doubt that he is. Momentarily at least. As he says, he has these brilliant ideas of how a fantasy will work and then reality comes crashing down around him. I’ve learned, for the most part, not to ask. I just nod my head and agree with what he wants to try. He swears he will be able to take the clothes pins over time. I wonder why he wants to push it, but I will do what he wants even if he may not want it at the time. At a certain point, however, I may pull the plug on this one. These little bastards just may be too much to handle.
My primary job is to take care of Lion, no matter what silliness he wants to try. Ultimately it’s my responsibility to be the voice of reason. Being in charge isn’t just for pushing him to do things or disciplining him when he’s naughty. It’s to keep him safe, despite what he thinks he wants.