Mrs. Lion and I don’t make much fuss for the holidays. I suspect she would like to do more than we do. I’m all in favor of accommodating her desire. A change would be nice.

Speaking of change, I’m starting to question what I am doing here. Every day for four years (give or take), Mrs. Lion and I have faithfully shared our thoughts and experiences. In over 2,600 posts our readers have shared each and every sexual moments of our marriage. I’ve spent substantial amounts of money keeping this blog available. Why would we do it? More specifically, why would I use valuable time and money for this pursuit?

I know we have a lot of readers. I use tools to let me know how many people read and what they look at. It’s good that we are one of the most popular sexually-oriented blogs in the world. But it’s not that good a feeling; at least for me. Lots of anonymous people find us every day. They read our words and then fade back into the mist.  A tiny percentage of our readers let us know they like what they read (they click the “like” button). Another minute fraction leave comments.

Of course, we aren’t alone in this. The vast majority of people consider the Web the same way they think of TV: they read some and then change the channel. I’m not ungrateful for your attention. I like it. But do I like it enough to work as hard as I do to put something new in front of you every day?

I suppose every writer gets to this point.  I own my  own printing press (this blog), so anything I want to say is immediately published. That’s cool. Based on blog popularity polls (not readership), we don’t even make the list most of the time. Of course, like blogs, the polls are the product of a single mind. So it doesn’t represent a real measure of the writers who are rated.

I have my own favorites. On top of my list (not surprisingly) is “Strict Julie Spanks“. It’s well written, sexy, and has given real help to us. I’ve grown to love it’s writer. She leaves regular comments here that provide insight we can use to enrich our activities. I like others as well. Some stand out because the writing is verbal fireworks that provide fleeting-but-beautiful images in my mind. Others are gritty and poorly written, but spark me at some level. A few sadden me. I read them because I hope that their writers will wake up and realize the futility of their searches.

The glorious anonymity of blogging allows some people to expose realities they would never share if they had to sign their names. They get a chance to expose hidden places with no real risk.

All of us have some expectations that drive our hours spent writing. Some are using their blogs as a giant personal ad. They seek the ideal “sub”. Sadly, their search is confined to guys who are younger, fit, and instantly submissive. From what I’ve read, these bloggers rarely find what they seek. Some read blogs and decide that they want to share too. These blogs rarely have a point of view. They are descriptions of sexual events in their lives or imaginations. These can be great reads.

Ours started because I thought it would be cool to journal my entry into enforced chastity. My inspiration was the movie “Julie and Julia”. It was about a woman who decided to cook every recipe in a Julia Childs cookbook and write a post every day about her adventures in cooking. I figured it would be fun to do the same thing with our try at enforced chastity.

After a while, the blog became a daily part of our lives. I don’t think either of us gave much though to why we were putting in the work to write a post every day. We used each other’s posts as a form of long form email. Our posts became a thoughtful conversation we share with you. We could just as easily do this as email or a private blog.

The lack of feedback (comments) kept our conversation feeling almost as private as email. The knowledge that we have thousands of silent readers who we would never meet didn’t detract from the sense of privacy. The only comments I ever get about missing a post come from Mrs. Lion. A few times a week we get email (private feedback) from people who generally want chastity device fitting advice. Based on their writing, they never read a word we wrote. They just googled “male chastity” and then clicked “Contact Us”. I don’t answer them.

From the perspective of a web site professional, we are successful. We rank very high on the search engines. Lots of people visit and click on a variety of pages. From my personal perspective I don’t feel that positive. I was hoping that the blog would be more interactive. I wanted to feel a sense of community with other writers. That community doesn’t exist. I suppose I wanted praise too. I know that I am a good writer. I’m not so sure that I have all that much to say.

I can fade into the sunset. If I leave the blog accessible, I doubt our reader count will go down much if I never write another word. Sure, some people will lose a daily read. But if they go back to 2014 and start over, it will be a long time before they’ll notice I’m gone. I have no illusions about this. Yesterday’s post ends up lining the bottom of the figurative bird cage. The static pages on enforced chastity and discipline remain popular.

In the Facebook, Instagram, Twitter world the blog is a dusty relic. Maybe the weight of all that dust is going to sink me. I don’t know what tomorrow will bring. But it’s possible you won’t find out from me.

Lion and I are both in pain. He must have aggravated his shoulder in PT. Both my shoulders have impingement and the right one has been hurting more than normal lately. I’m not sure what I did but the left one must have felt ignored because I can barely move it. I had plans for manscaping and sling time today. It looks like neither one will happen.

Last night I managed to revive Lion’s sex drive. He wondered in a post if he was no longer horny because he knew sex would not result in an orgasm. That’s one of my reasons for not wanting a scheduled orgasm. Any night can be orgasm night. He won’t know until we’re done. Of course he’s pretty sure it won’t be the day after an orgasm although I’ve been known to give him one then as well. I’ve said recently that his wait times now can range from four to fourteen days. However, there’s nothing that says I can’t go shorter than four days or longer than fourteen. Those are just guidelines. He should know I’m unpredictable enough to do whatever I want whenever I want.

Lion may have thought he was going to get an orgasm last night. My shoulder was just starting to hurt worse and I knew a hand job wouldn’t work. When all else fails (and even when it doesn’t) oral is the way to go. He was soft when I started and within a minute or so he was getting hard. I love when that happens. I think if a woman, or a man for that matter, wants to feel powerful, he or she should lick or suck a limp cock. Making it go from a flaccid lump of skin to rock hard is one of the best feelings in the world. That’s my superpower.

I may be able to manage to give Lion some oral attention tonight too but I’m pretty sure the sling is out of the question. I don’t want him hurting himself getting in or out and I won’t be able to do too much to him while he’s in there other than sucking him anyway. We’ll have to see how we feel as the day goes on.

Late last week I discovered a “bump” above my right nipple. It was a little sore. Naturally, I was concerned. I made an appointment with my doctor. He felt the swollen area and told me I should get a mammogram. A what?

“A mammogram,” he repeated.

I sighed audibly. He told me not to worry. In thirty-five years of practice he’s sent lots of men and none had cancer. I made an appointment for this past Thursday.

I went to the hospital and checked into the breast clinic. The what? I sent Mrs. Lion a picture of the waiting room. It’s the same one above.

I was not a happy camper. Before long, I was escorted into the mammogram room. The technician told me she would squeeze my breast between two pieces of lucite. I reminded her that I am male and don’t have breasts. “Yes you do,” she said. I rolled my eyes.

Sorry ladies, the procedure was painless for me. I can now say that whining about a mammogram is just whining. I can’t get the, “You never had one. You have no idea how horrible it feels.” Yes I do! It was quick and painless. Of course I did worry I have cancer. The mammogram was followed by a sonogram of the bump and the area around it. A couple of minutes after the sonogram, the radiologist came into the room and told me that the bump wasn’t cancer and my breasts are clear.

There’s that word again. I know that males and females have breast tissue. Mine isn’t visible from the outside and the mammogram was a tiny profile. I’ve seen endless jokes by women that if we had our balls squished like their breasts (a manogram), we’d know. Well my breasts were squished just like theirs. NBFD (No Big Fucking Deal). The myth is busted!

I also visited a dermatologist about my itching. He prescribed a topical cream as well as a pill that is used off label for eczema (my insurance won’t pay for it for this diagnosis). The drug is used as an anti-rejection pill for kidney transplants. The dermatologist insists that it will suppress my immune system just enough to stop the allergic itching.

I’ll give it a try. The list of possible side effects is a little scary and I will have to get blood tests every two weeks until I reach the full dose. I’m starting with a low dose to help my body get used to the drug.

Maybe all this medical stuff has contributed to my lack of interest in sex. I’m concerned there is a more basic issue: My brain knows I won’t get sex most of the time and has simply turned off the interest until an orgasm is likely. This is my current theory. It’s probably wrong, but it’s been kicking around in my head for a while now.

Is this just another myth I’ve created to explain a more organic loss of libido? Sex has moved into the background lately. Maybe I’m just trying to rationalize this change. This could be a self-fulfilling prophecy and will result in further loss of sexual interest. I hope Mrs. Lion can prove me wrong.

Last night when we were snuggling, I’d just started fondling Lion when I heard the unmistakable sounds of slumber. I know he’s had trouble sleeping but to fall asleep just when I get to the good part? I’d be offended if I didn’t know he’s been awake most of the night for ages. When I told him about it later he said he always falls asleep when someone rubs his balls. I had just barely touched them.

As we were falling asleep, for real, he grumbled something about no sex for Lion. He’d taken whatever combination of drugs makes him loopy. Sometimes he remembers what he says when he’s loopy. Sometimes he doesn’t. He’s usually very talkative. Generally I’m trying to sleep and he’s rambling on about sex and our relationship and if I don’t answer him he gets a little annoyed. Sometimes he wants sex. It usually doesn’t work because he’s taken whatever combination of drugs that makes him loopy and they also make him sleepy. That’s the point of taking them. The sleeping part, I mean. [Lion – For the record, I remember everything about last night]

Since he had his orgasm Tuesday night we haven’t really played. There’s been some snuggling. There have been a few days when one or both of us has been too achy. He’s been too itchy. It’s rare for us to not even try to play. Lion does have times when he’s in a lull. I don’t think this is one of them. I think achiness and itching have overridden his sex drive. It’s understandable. Life intrudes.

I’m hoping this weekend we can play. We don’t have anything other than chores and a few errands planned. Just a nice quiet weekend at home. My favorite. Spending it with my favorite person in the world is even better. It may be rainy and cold outside but it’s warm and cozy inside with Lion.