We had a snowstorm starting Sunday night and extending into yesterday. Our vehicles are both four-wheel-drive so we had no problems getting around. There are very few snowplows in our area. This is the first snow we’ve had in two years. The accumulation is about 4 inches. This is enough to force school closures and generally have people hunker down in their houses. Mrs. Lion went to work yesterday and had very little trouble with the weather, just with pokey drivers.

I’m writing this post late on Monday afternoon. Mrs. Lion just came home from work. She left early to avoid getting on slippery roads after sundown. With any luck, we can have a reasonably early dinner and maybe some time for fun.

It’s both good news and bad news that I haven’t been spanked in over a week. I have a love/hate relationship with the paddle. Like almost every other man who is spanked by his wife, I had a long-standing interest in spanking. Mrs. Lion and I practiced recreational spanking for 10 years before we considered other uses for it.

A few things have moved from the “just because” category to the punishment category. This includes things like the punishment stool, mouth soaping, diapers, and of course spanking. It’s true that these activities are certainly valid punishments and Mrs. Lion uses them effectively. The thing is that in the past she used them differently. These activities were used to pique my sexual interest. She knows this stuff turns me on. She also used it as a way to assert her dominant role. There’s nothing like being made to sit in with diapers for a day or two to remind a guy who’s in charge.

There are a couple of good ways to approach this dual function of what was formally just for fun. A very good one, perhaps the best, would be to make more rules that would be very easy for me to break. This would give Mrs. Lion an excuse to sit me in a wet diaper or something else equally unpleasant. Or, she could just decide I should do these things for no reason at all. I’m fine with that as well.

As I’ve learned more about how other people do this sort of stuff and I’ve thought about it more deeply, I realize that even in the most orthodox domestic discipline household, there is that underlying turn on at being punished. Since almost every Female Led Relationship with Discipline is initiated by the husband, it makes sense. What interested me the most about all this is that as I started reading various websites that talked about domestic discipline. I couldn’t find one that didn’t have a sort of sexual undertone.

It’s true that every single guy (almost all of the material I read was about disciplined men, though there was a good dose of females too) talked about an “attraction” to spanking prior to being disciplined. That doesn’t mean that they, or for that matter I, get turned on by our spankings. I certainly don’t. I’m turned on thinking about being spanked. But once Mrs. Lion gets going, I’m not having a good time.

After my spanking, I have mixed feelings at first. If the spanking was strong enough, my butt will be burning and I will be focused on trying to find a comfortable way to sit or lie down. After that, it becomes more of a fond memory. And when it hurts to sit down the next day, I’m reminded what happened to me the day before. The discomfort does remind me that I did something wrong. It also is a little bit of a turn on. It’s almost a physical memory of something I always wanted.

This duality used to bother me quite a bit. It seemed to me that being punished for breaking a rule should be horribly unpleasant and something I would dread. I reasoned that if there was any pleasure involved, it might be something I would seek. Actually, the fact that I like to think about being spanked helps lubricate the process of punishing me.

When it’s time for me to assume the position, I’m a little excited. I willingly get into position. Once there, I’m stuck. I know that. What ensues is absolutely unpleasant. I’m just not bright enough to remember that the next time I’m told to bend over. Maybe it’s this sexual attraction to something like a punishment that’s the secret sauce in a disciplinary relationship. I’m pretty sure it is. The only question left is, do I want fries with that?