For no apparent reason, sexual activity hasn’t been going on here.  Over the last week, Mrs. Lion fondled me a few times. I didn’t respond. I think pressure from work is getting in my way. I also think that when I am this unresponsive, I put Mrs. Lion off. I think she doesn’t want to make me uncomfortable. It’s times like this when I wonder if my wild state doesn’t make things worse.

I can’t imagine why that would be the case. It’s been quite a while since I got turned on thinking about being locked up. After a couple of years, the cage was just something that was always there. It was frequently inconvenient because it would pinch me now and then and peeing was much more difficult. On the other hand, Mrs. Lion made a lot more reference to “her weenie”. Now there is almost no penis talk around here.

It’s unclear why this is true. Even our posts barely mention it. I may be thinking this because one of my biggest motives for asking Mrs. Lion to lock me up was my thoughts that the cage would force sexual attention. It was right. Enforced chastity restarted sexual activity for us. Did it also keep it going? There was a very good reason to uncage me: my shoulder surgery. I am still in physical therapy three days a week. My sex drive has been much lower since pain and difficulty doing things take up much of my energy.

My first night’s sleep unassisted by pain relievers was only three days ago. That is a very big deal for me. I do hurt when I use my shoulder a bit too much. It is painful after physical therapy. But the nighttime pain is virtually gone. Unfortunately, there are positions that still cause me pain. It hurts to lie on my stomach. I can’t find a position for my right arm that doesn’t hurt. Until last weekend, lying on my back was also uncomfortable.

Now that that pain is absent, I wonder if Mrs. Lion will have more success arousing and edging me. I wish I could say that I tested my pain theory for myself, but after all these years of no penile contact,  I have a tough time getting myself hard. Of course, that’s exactly what Mrs. Lion wants.

I’m writing this post at 8pm yesterday. I have no idea what tonight will bring. Maybe edging is back in my life. You’ll have to wait for Mrs. Lion’s post this afternoon to find out.

The biggest question someone in my position should never ask is: “Would you keep [fill in the word, punishing, spanking, pegging, locking me up in a chastity device] If I want you to stop?” The obvious expectation is that the answer is, “Hell no, you worm! You’re my toy!” That’s how the standard voice in my head says it.

Of course, I know better. If Mrs. Lion thinks I am asking the question seriously, she will most likely agree and the action stops. If I ask in the heat of punishment or denial, then I expect the answer will be very similar to my expectation. It’s contrary to the essence of submission to know you can turn off the domination with a single sentence. If the activity is consensual, then the submissive always has that power.

The trick for the dominant is understanding the full context of the discussion. For example, when I was in serious pain after my surgery, if Mrs. Lion hadn’t suspended my rules on her own, I would have had to tell her I needed to stop submitting. Very fortunately, my lioness is very loving and sensitive to my ability to deal with our power exchange.

Is that fair? Should Mrs. Lion intuitively know when I am asking for dialogue to make me feel more submissive and when to recognize I’m serious. It isn’t that asking questions is wrong. It’s just that question that will bring trouble. Consider the dominant’s point of view. If you are asked if you will continue even if your submissive wants to stop and you say that you won’t, what does that say about you? Are you a tyrant? An unfeeling thug?

I know that if I am sincerely unhappy and I ask Mrs. Lion to stop, she will. She is starting to like being in charge. There are things about it that are fun for her. But we both know that she does it because it is what I want; perhaps need. I’m very grateful. I’m not going to ask the fatal question.

Lion didn’t expect me to order for him at dinner.

Lion left out one fairly important fact from our day out. I ordered for him at the Chinese restaurant. Admittedly, I didn’t necessarily intend to order for him. That is, I started with the appetizer, ordered my own food and, as an afterthought, added his order. I wasn’t a premeditated act. I just decided, what the heck. Why not?

I’m sure that detracts from the power of it quite a bit. I didn’t do it to be powerful. I did it because I know Lion likes when I do it. There was no conscious effort to throw my weight around. It was an easy order so I just did it. Had there been something specific about it like hold the carrots or add more celery, I might have left him to his own devices. I am new to this whole ordering for the table thing. I’m taking baby steps like I do with everything else. Who knows? Maybe it will become one of the things that sneaks up on us, as Lion wrote in his post this morning. The point is, Lion is never sure when I’ll pop my head out of the sand and do something. For that matter, I’m not either. I surprise myself as much as I surprise Lion when it happens.

According to my watch, we walked about four miles at the fair. That’s a lot for sedentary folks. And, although we bought fudge, we didn’t gorge ourselves on fair food. We each had a bratwurst. Lion had an ear of corn. And we shared a Dole whip. I was tempted to buy cotton candy because that just seems to me to be a fair tradition, but I didn’t. No fried Twinkies or elephant ears. No scones because I don’t really like scones and I don’t understand why the lines are so long when you can buy the same mix in the store and make your own. People were carrying around shopping bags full of scones to take home. I guess you have to in order to justify standing on line for at least an hour.

We had fun though. Lion deserves some sort of prize for putting up with my coworker and I. Separately we can be a bit much. Together we are insane.

We went to the fair yesterday. It was one of those days when the sun was shining and the temperature a balmy 70 degrees F. (21 deg C). We ate bratwurst, Dole Whip, and I had an ear of roasted corn. It was really nice. We toured the vendor booths, saw a draft horse show, and spent some time with one of Mrs. Lion’s colleagues. We detoured on our way home for a Chinese dinner. Oh yeah, we brought home a couple of pounds of delicious chocolate fudge. When we got home, we ate some of the fudge, I watched TV and Mrs. Lion played on her iPad. Aren’t we the normal, middle-class couple? Nothing kinky, or even particularly sexual happened.

Mrs. Lion read my post yesterday about 2.0 taking up residence. To my surprise she agreed that a rather significant change snuck up on us. She agreed that she is more consistent and that she almost never lets me get away with anything. This isn’t oppressive for me. Yes, I am not thrilled that I pay the price for every misbehavior. But it’s very clear that it was my naughtiness that brought on the sore bottom.

I always imagined that when I was consistently supervised and punished as needed, I would get some sort of erotic thrill as though I was living in a BDSM scene that never ended. That was the fantasy. Reality doesn’t resemble it at all. I don’t anticipate the next punishment session with an erection. I work hard to obey my rules. I tend to “forget” them after the effects of punishment wears off. Mild punishment wears off in a matter of a few days. Harsher punishment actively deters me much longer.

For the most part, we aren’t trying to do permanent behavior modification. Our lives aren’t part of a behavioral laboratory. We’re doing things that work for us on multiple levels. Mrs. Lion is learning to be more assertive and expect to be heard. I’m learning to accept instead of always leading. This is very different from any BDSM scenes I’ve lived or seen.

A lot of what we do is definitely BDSM. My punishments would work equally well in a scene as they do as real punishments. The only difference is intent. The sensations Mrs. Lion inflicts are intended to make me sorry I did something wrong. A scene with the same activities is designed as a kind of painful foreplay. Whether I am the top or bottom, the scene can be stopped or modified to make it fit the bottom. Even pushing limits feels very different when part of a punishment.

When Mrs. Lion spanks me past when I feel I can’t take anymore, I know that I can’t stop her. If she were my top, I could when I had enough. That’s the key. Who decides when it is enough is completely in the hands of Mrs. Lion when I am being punished. I don’t have to want to be spanked. I’m not asked if I’ve had enough. She decides.

That doesn’t mean it isn’t consensual and safe. It simply means that I know that I have no choices. I have to stay in place. When it is horribly painful, I have to realize I brought this on myself. While it may hurt a lot, I’m not going to be injured. Usually, I don’t even look red an hour later. BDSM scenes are about sensation. Punishment is about teaching. They may look identical from the outside. But to me, there is a world of difference between them.