The Joys of Packing

I know Lion didn’t think he could go a week without breaking a rule, but I really thought he could make it a day. He managed to spill food on his shirt at dinner. Three more days of punishment for him.

Ironically, I seem to be hitting him harder with less to show for it. There was only a tiny drop of blood the other night. There hasn’t really been any bruising. At least, none that lasts. His buns do get red. Last night he had a whitish look to his cheeks. He doesn’t usually get that unless I use the wooden spoon or something with a rough surface. Clearly I’m not out for blood or bruising otherwise I’d continue to beat him long after I’ve been stopping.

Lion did not have to wait a month for his orgasm. I’d planned to give it to him last night, although for a bit it seemed like he didn’t want to have one. I was waiting for the inevitable humping of air, but it never came. Even after edging him ever closer, he didn’t seem horny enough for an orgasm. I’m sure he’d disagree. And I have no way of truly knowing how horny he is. I tend to look for a sense of urgency. Humping air seems to fit that urgency.

Nevertheless, I wanted Lion to have an orgasm so he had one. Of course, if he really wasn’t horny, an orgasm might have been impossible. Let’s just say, he was horny enough for an orgasm, but perhaps not as horny as I would have liked. Either way, he’s a happy boy. Now we can get on with the joys of packing without the distraction of his being horny. Maybe I should have left him horny as a motivating factor. I guess he’ll have to take his inspiration from the paddle that is never far away.