I suppose it’s natural to be self critical. Mrs. Lion and I write every day. I am also a regular reader of other related blogs. I compare what I write with what other bloggers produce. Each blogger has an individual style. I truly enjoy the diversity. Then I start thinking about what I write.

There are choices on how to approach writing. Some of them are what I call journalistic. Mrs. Lion and I fall into that genre. Others are story form. Of course, you can slice and dice writing styles a million ways. But for now, lets just look at these two, very-different approaches.

Story style writing tends to be slice-of-life narratives. They feature highly descriptive language and generally include dialog. Here’s an example I created to describe my recent inability to get aroused:

It was time for her to have some fun. She told me it was time for her to take an orgasm from me. She didn’t wait for me to react. She pulled the blanket off me and began caressing my cock and balls. I stayed soft.

“Come on, up boy,” she ordered.

“I’m trying Ma’am”

“Can’t you see I am playing with you?”

“Yes, but I just can’t get hard.”

She shook her head and moved away. “This isn’t what I expect from you,” she said.

“I’m sorry.”

“Let’s wait a couple of weeks and see if you haven’t learned to behave properly.” …

Depending on the writer, the dialogue could be more elaborate and go into lengthy descriptions of how she moved her hand, my struggle to get aroused, etc. The story paints a picture you can see in your imagination.

I like that sort of writing. I like it a lot. But over time it becomes less a playback of reality and more an impressionistic painting of a power exchange. At best it is an accurate picture of an interesting piece of time. This style is frequently used in books on sexual subjects. A picture, even a mental one, is much more vivid than exposition.

But then, why do Mrs. Lion and I choose to write in a narrative style?  My reason is that I want to share more than my experience. Creating a dialogue, even an inner one, makes it more difficult for the reader to see changes over time. Also, the story format doesn’t lend itself to exposition; explanation of reasons things do or don’t happen.

Both Mrs. Lion and I reported on my erectile problems. You read her account of what happened and how she decided to handle the issue. I wrote about how I felt and how I worried the change might be long term or permanent.

The difference in the two styles is that the story style created a movie of events. You, the reader, can put yourself into role of one of the people in the scene. It’s a visceral experience. It can arouse, frighten, or perhaps amuse you. My account provided very little imagination fodder. But it gave a view of what happened, like you were reading a newspaper.

Neither approach is better than the other. It’s the writer’s choice. More importantly, it’s your choice. You decide what you want to read. If you’re like me, you like both styles. Each affects you differently. It doesn’t matter. If you come back to see what’s happening in our lives, then our approach appeals to you. If you also want a more experiential read, you know where you can find that too.

I admire good descriptive language. Some of the blogs in our list of blogs we read are incredible examples of storytelling. Others are like ours and provide a more “newsy’ approach. Isn’t it nice we can enjoy both?

For the past few nights, Lion has been tired and in pain. He selects a show from our list of recorded TV shows and a short time later, he’s snoring softly. He apologizes for falling asleep. I figure he needs the sleep and my only concern is that he won’t be able to sleep during the night.

In his post this morning, Lion wrote that he misses the intimacy that’s taken a back seat since his shoulder has been in pain. He wants things to be normal. I do too. But it’s difficult to snuggle or play with someone who’s snoozing or in pain. My first reaction is to just ignore the pain and wake him up so we can do those things. That won’t work.

So far, I’ve been trying to make accommodations to our FLR and domestic discipline. However, on the way to work this morning, I realized that we may be able to resume some sort of intimacy quicker than we both think. Lion will not be in pain 24/7/365. I figure for the first week he might be a basket case. After that, the pain should start to tail off. Once there’s a hint of normalcy, we can talk about playing again. Obviously, he won’t be mobile, but since Lion usually lays there while I do all the work, we should be able to do most things again. (I’m kidding. He doesn’t just lay there. It’s hard work handling all the mean things I do to him.) As long as I’m not bothering his shoulder, we should be fine. And I’m mostly interested in things a little farther south anyway.

When my son was younger and he’d complain of a pain in his leg, I’d punch him in the arm. When he asked why I did it, I’d ask him if his leg hurt anymore. He’d say no and I’d tell him he was welcome. Of course, I knew the pain in his leg wasn’t serious or I wouldn’t have punched him. The point is that he couldn’t feel both pains at once. The same could apply to Lion. If I put Icy Hot on his balls, it may take his mind away from the shoulder pain. If I put fifty clothespins on his balls, he may not feel his shoulder so much.

All this time, I was trying to figure out how to take care of Lion’s shoulder and his well-being. I failed to consider his sexual well-being. I’m sure 2.0 would have figured that out eventually, but now I’m on the job too.

Ever since things have gotten serious with my shoulder, a balance we have established has been slipping. It’s much more than the sexual power exchange we have. It’s that the focus has somehow moved away from us and toward my physical problem. There is something isolating about a disability, even a temporary one.

Mrs. Lion is very experienced in the areas I need help. Both of her parents were disabled. But, it is almost a trade between between caring for me while injured and relating to me sexually. Maybe it is impossible to practice all the things we write about here while I am in pain. Or, more optimistically, the lessons we have learned from enforced chastity and domestic discipline are now woven into the fabric of our lives.

To some extent I think that it is true. We are taught to treat sick people with care and indulge them far more than we would when they are well. Mrs. Lion has suspended all my rules because she knows it is difficult for me to remember to follow them. I’m not complaining about that. She’s right.

But when the rules went out, so did a lot of the intimacy and communication we had developed. After all, there is no reason to be particularly aware of my behavior if for now it doesn’t matter what I do. That makes sense. But there is a hidden zinger. The rules, chastity, and discipline are tools that force us to relate to each other physically. That doesn’t sound right, but in the sense I mean it is true.

FLR and male chastity have formed a framework for sexual interaction. Domestic discipline requires that Mrs. Lion remains consciously aware of anything I do that is bad for me or annoys her. It’s not nice to yell at a sick person, much less spank him. So, Mrs. Lion is unconsciously encouraged to stuff her feelings in favor of helping me. She’s being unselfish. She is unselfish by nature. Much of the reason we get value from our power exchanges is that she is learning to be selfish in a constructive way.

My physical needs have to take center stage while I can’t care for myself. But at least until this time next week, I am not  helpless. I just hurt. It’s way too easy for me to slip into the role of invalid and even easier for Mrs. Lion to revert to her care  giver self.

I’m not in a position to decide how much care I really need. I think Mrs. Lion is helping me exactly as much as I need. We both know that the level of care I will need post-surgery will be much greater. What we don’t know is how to sustain our power exchange. I miss the intimacy my pain has driven away. I miss the playful sexual fun we had. I don’t have the answer. I just hope we can discover ways to keep those fires burning while I heal.

Lion’s pre-op appointment went well. The surgeon was more personable at this visit. Lion said it was because he had a witness with him – me. I think the surgeon had a bad day at the first appointment. When I left Lion, he was more confident about getting the surgery. He got positive answers from the doctor and he knew what to expect.

By the time Lion made it home last night, he was tired and in pain. He no longer saw the surgery through rose-colored glasses. He crawled in bed, snoozed, and stayed there most of the night. When I said I was achy all over, he asked if I wanted him to postpone his surgery. No way! I’m always achy to some extent. If we wait for me not to be achy, he’ll never get his shoulder fixed. I know he doesn’t see that as a problem, but I do.

I think we’re at a delicate balancing act right now. Lion needs 1.0 to take care of him, but he also needs 2.0 to tell him to knock it off with the pity party and just get the damn surgery already. I know he’s scared. He’s made it his whole life without really having anything debilitating happen to him. He’s had a few surgeries here and there, but nothing that left him completely dependent on someone else. Despite the fact that he’s a big, strong Lion, he does have a soft, squishy center.

Not many people have had the benefit of having handicapped parents. I guess I never really considered it a benefit until now. I know how to help someone after surgery. I know how to wait on someone for everything. Need help getting out of bed? I can do that. Need help in the bathroom? I can do that. Need a glass of water? I’m on it. Without realizing he was doing it, Lion married the perfect woman for the job. It’s pretty much second nature to me.

Now I have to train Lion to receive help. I’ve been doing most of the stuff around the house already. Lion’s been in a lot of pain lately. Being vertical wipes him out. But he feels bad that I’m doing everything. He wants to help. That’s an admirable trait in a husband. Not so much in a patient. Yes, he does need to help himself in many ways. He can’t just lay there like a lump. He needs to help me help him out of bed, to the bathroom, to the shower. I don’t expect him to be completely immobile after the first day or so. Once his body has come to terms with the fact that it was essentially attacked, the shock will wear off and he’ll be more functional.

I think he’ll be able to move around much more quickly than he does. He’s not going to want to stay in bed. And he shouldn’t. He’ll want to go sit in his office and do whatever he does on the computer. Granted, he won’t be able to do it for long at first, but he’ll get there. You can’t keep a good Lion down. His biggest hurdle right now is not feeling bad about needing my help. Deal with it. Or, as 2.0 says, suck it up Buttercup!