Mrs. Lion tried the over-the-knee spanking experiment on Friday night. Sadly, it didn’t work very well. Maybe we aren’t doing it right. Even if we were, Mrs. Lion said that she didn’t have the leverage she needed to bruise my bottom. Poor dear. She finished the spanking with me over the edge of the bed. She used the hairbrush-shaped paddle. The shape is its only resemblance to a hairbrush. It’s made out of three-quarter-inch thick hardwood. It packs a solid swat. Mrs. Lion is happier with the spoon-shaped paddle. It is also thick hardwood with a long handle. The spanking spoon has a smaller striking area than the hairbrush. [Mrs. Lion — I was curious so I just compared them. They have exactly the same area.]
There’s no question about it, spanking me is an emotion-free activity for Mrs. Lion. It’s just one more thing in her day. She seems unmoved by my distress. [Mrs. Lion — If I thought about it on an emotional level, I don’t think I could spank him so ferociously.] I’m not complaining that she’s become a heartless lioness. This is exactly what I asked her to do. An effective, educational spanking is going to hurt a lot. If I don’t react strongly, it isn’t going to make much of an impression. Mrs. Lion’s paddlings make a strong impression on me. When she goes all out, it hurts to sit for three days afterward.
When I think about this, I mentally shake my head. I genuinely hate those spankings. I try hard to avoid them. Yet, I encourage Mrs. Lion to make them more severe. It’s like there are two people inside me. One is the experienced BDSM top who gets pleasure out of effective administration of pain. The other is the bottom, who wants the top to shut up because his encouragement makes the next spanking more painful.
Actually, this contradictory behavior is normal among men who get spanked. I haven’t found a single male domestic discipline situation that the female partner initiated. The men ask for it. It’s one hundred percent male-initiated and consensual. We want it. Mrs. Lion knows that I want her to increase the length and severity of my beatings. Neither of us knows why, but I do. She’s kind enough to accommodate me. What a sweetie!