Yesterday, we signed the lease for our new house. The landlord did an extensive walk-through showing us every inch of the not-very-big house. I think closing off purchase of a house would take about half as long. It’s both good news and bad news having a landlord so invested in the property. On the good side, he wants to make sure everything’s right. On the bad side, he wants to know everything’s right and will drive us crazy over little details I’m sure we don’t care about.

I wish there was more I could do to help. The medication I’m taking for the eye surgery I had almost 2 weeks ago shuts down my irises so that it’s always dark. TV looks like a view through night vision goggles. Everything is yellow and black. I have to keep using these drops at least two more weeks. I don’t know what else I could do to be even less useful.

Because we don’t have any children in the house and very rarely have visitors, we are casual about where we leave our toys. Mrs. Lion has been working to put the playthings, he says euphemistically, away. But I’m pretty sure there has to be a paddle or two, a butt plug, and a stray dildo ready to be discovered by a vanilla friend or mover. I don’t think either of us is overly concerned about that. That’s one of the good things about having our power exchanges become routine parts of our lives together; we’re not really embarrassed about what we do and if someone we knows figures us out, it will be the end of the world. Who knows? Mrs. Lion could end up with an assistant spanker.

In the meantime, Mrs. Lion is doing a good job of keeping things organized. Now that we have the new house and are moving things over, it’s getting easier to imagine ourselves in the new space. We were both a little surprised when we realized the room we had designated as a combination pantry, waxing studio, play area is actually larger than we thought. It should be easy to accommodate its multiple purposes. I haven’t been in a sling in about a year. If we set it up, it might be fun to play there again.

Since we’ve been more tightly integrating our disciplinary relationship into our daily lives, neither of us has appeared to be very interested in BDSM play. Mrs. Lion’s “Box O’ Fun” has been gathering dust in her key safe. I haven’t thought about it until just now. I haven’t thought about the sling either until we were down in our dungeon room waxing me and I looked over at it and commented that it’s gathering dust.

Admittedly, BDSM play was never something that Mrs. Lion actually wanted. She did it because I need that sort of thing. I think I still do. But the need has gotten weaker as our disciplinary relationship is gotten stronger. The same is true about my interest in chastity hardware. Don’t get me wrong, I still like being caged. I like the orgasm denial and control much more than the hardware.

I think that the very real power Mrs. Lion exercises through our FLRD (Female Led Relationship with Discipline) and my enforced male chastity, has largely replaced the sensation-based play I’ve always craved. I get more than enough sensation being punished for my infractions. Similarly, the combination of frustration and sexual excitement my orgasm control provides, replaces a lot of the more artificial BDSM fun I wanted in the past.

Mrs. Lion is a superb cock tease. She is utterly unsympathetic to my air-humping frustration when she edges me. In fact, she genuinely enjoys the show when I do it. In recent months, she’s been something of a softy in that department. She knows how difficult things can get for me and likes to get me off when I’m able. I’m very sure she misses keeping me on edge for days at a time. I miss it too.

She’s written a post or two about her seemingly split personality. She’s talked about the ordinary “me” and Mrs. Lion. It makes sense that she looks at things this way. After all, Mrs. Lion is nothing like her day-to-day self. At least, that’s what she thinks. I would like to suggest that these two parts of her are merging. Consider her discomfort when eating with her family and her kids starting before her. She had a similar reaction when we had a house guest, an old classmate of mine, whose manners were, as she called it “European”. I thought it was just rude. In any case, I think there is integration between the Mrs. Lion who spanks me and the working lioness in a vanilla job.

For my part, I recognize this split very well. I’ve had a lot more years to understand how I can be bottom-up and yelping in the evening, and calmly running a project the next morning. It just takes some time. I think most of us have to do this sort of integration. When we first start wearing male chastity devices, we spent an awful lot of time worrying about whether people can notice it under our clothing. In my case, I stopped worrying about it after a few months. The same thing happened after I stopped having pubic hair. In the beginning, I would let it grow back if I had an upcoming doctor’s appointment. After a while, I stopped caring. I had two kidney stone surgeries in the last four years and didn’t give a single thought to the state of my body hair even for this intimate surgery. In fact, the last time I had to go back to the surgeon’s office to have a stent removed. This required a procedure where the surgeon and his assistant threaded a device through my penis and into my bladder to pull the stent out. The nurse prepped me and I didn’t give a single thought to the fact she was looking at bald cock and balls.

An uncle of mine used to say about similar sorts of things that it’s “mind over matter”. “If you don’t mind it doesn’t matter.” That’s very true. On the other hand, we firmly believe that everything we do is consensual. That includes protecting people who may not want to know what we do. Putting away our toys is a way of avoiding non–consensual participation in our lifestyle. If we mess up and someone does discover a paddle or a plug, they have the option to ignore it or express curiosity. If there is curiosity, I would like to think we would answer in an honest and unembarrassed way.