Mrs. Lion likes to shake her head and laugh at my desire to play painful games. Despite having a very sore butt by the end of the game, I loved our Super Bowl spanking game. Mrs. Lion’s Box O’Fun offers many painful activities for me to blindly pick. I hate some of the things Mrs. Lion is directed to do — menthol on my balls, for example — but I love that we play this uncomfortable game.
Mrs. Lion tends to favor CBT. A majority of the Box O’Fun activities involve cock and balls. I’m not complaining. It’s fun. I hope she can find her blindfold. I really love when I can’t see what’s coming.
Sexually, it seems to take me longer to get to the point that I can be edged easily. I’m not entirely sure this is organic. Work has been very difficult and perhaps my concern about being successful is affecting my sexual responsiveness. I’m sure that I will return to my former horniness in the near future. I’m very grateful that Mrs. Lion is willing to be patient with me.
It seems that along with her acceptance of the chastity device as a key tool to owning my penis, she has a renewed willingness to do BDSM play. I think it is because of her desire to make me happy. I’m hoping she is also having fun. Objectively, it is funny to see me select my own painful torture. I hope it amuses Mrs. Lion. The humiliation of her amusement at my obviously silly choice is very exciting to me.
The cards in the Box O’Fun represent a catalog of BDSM activities we have either done or Mrs. Lion read about or invented. I don’t know what the box contains. Mrs. Lion created the cards out of my sight and placed them in the box. The box itself is kept locked in the same safe that contains the keys to my Jail Bird.
The cards are all folded in half. When I pick one, I hand it, still folded to Mrs. Lion. She decides if she will let me know what it says. We don’t necessarily play right after I draw a card. We can wait an hour or more before my fate is revealed. Knowing that I may have chosen tiny clothespins applied to the head of my penis, or a thick “racing stripe” of concentrated menthol rub painted from my anus to the base of my penis, I am apprehensive as I await the sensation.
Mrs. Lion is playful as she shows me what is coming. Without delay, she then goes to work. When she applied the menthol rub, the stripe felt cool and mildly pleasant as it went on. Then, over the next minute or so it grew hotter and hotter until the burning sensation is nearly unbearable. The pain goes on unabated for about ten minutes. When I drew that card a couple of weeks ago, as the pain receded, she used a tissue to stir up the thick strip on my balls. This put new menthol in the thick stripe in contact with my balls. Sensitized by the previous ten minute burn, my balls were on fire as soon as the tissue moved new rub against my skin.
After another agonizing ten minutes, the pain slowly faded. Ten more minutes went by before it was reduced to a slight warmth. I obediently lay on my back, legs spread wide during all this. It was difficult not to jump up and wash the painful stuff off. I didn’t move. I just took it.
That’s the way we play. Fun, huh?