My post is late, in part, because I decided to take advantage of another nice Friday afternoon to do battle with the hedge in front of the house. I hate that thing. I don’t like yard work to begin with, but I can tolerate mowing the lawn. Anything beyond that is unreasonable. I’d rather spray weed killer than whack the weeds. And I’d rather cut this stupid hedge down once and for all than trim it. Sadly, it’s the landlord’s hedge, so I can’t rip it out. However, I can cut it so far back that I won’t have to worry about it for a long time, and if it dies – oops.

Right now, my arms feel like Jell-O. If I had to guess, I’d say the hedge is about thirty feet long and six feet tall in places. That’s a long time to lift a hedge trimmer when you’re not used to manual labor. And I didn’t even get to the top yet. I only did the sides. I’m thinking I can bring the truck along the hedge, stand in the back and be able to cut the top without trying to lift the trimmer over my head. But that’s for another day.

Speaking of another day, Lion wants to be waxed this weekend. I guess it’s only fair. I trimmed one hedge. I should trim the other. Of course, once I finish the hedge outside, I won’t touch it again till next year. Lion needs trimming every month or so. Yard work. Blech. I was going to turn the wax on as soon as I got home today, but it’s supposed to rain this weekend, so outside work needed to be done first. Poor Lion. He’ll need to wait for tomorrow.

I know there are a few long hairs on his balls. I’ve seen them. But the fur at the base of his cock isn’t tickling my nose yet. Should I wait till it does before I wax him? I’ll see if my Jell-O arms feel better before I actually commit. I can’t remember when I did it last. I suppose I could pour over my posts, but I don’t really think it matters. I wax him when he needs it. Well, sometime after he needs it, depending on how we feel and how much time we have. He swears it shouldn’t take as long as it did last time because there should be less hair. That would make sense if all the hair were concentrated in one spot. His balls and that stubborn patch at the base of his cock are fairly concentrated. But he still has hair all over his stomach and chest. Yes, there’s less of it, but it’s spread out. It’s not like I can do his chest and move on. His back tends to have less hair, but he never had much, to begin with. And his butt is mostly naked. I’m chalking that up to improved spanking and the hairs’ lack of will to be beaten. Yup. That must be it.

I checked my book’s listing on Amazon this morning and discovered there are four reviews. All are five stars! Wow! Two of them are from Europe. I’m an international author. All that sounds great. Sales are horrible. I need more exposure. Just because I can write, it doesn’t mean I can promote. I can’t afford to pay a PR firm or buy extensive advertising. It’s always something. Meanwhile, I’m working on my second book. Practice makes perfect, I hope.

There is a theory that if you do something 10,000 hours, you will be an expert. I think there is a certain amount of truth. Practice can make perfect. Mrs. Lion’s spanking skill has improved geometrically over the years that she has been beating my butt. Blogging may be an exception. You can become a better writer by doing a lot of writing if you have the benefit of critical readers. Otherwise, nothing changes. That’s why I want an editor so badly.

This same thinking applies to sex. Quality improvement requires critical review and notes on how to improve. This goes two ways. Feedback is critical. I’ve been guilty of not letting Mrs. Lion know what feels best to me. I don’t want to discourage her by implying she isn’t doing something right. When I write about my new ideas on spanking or other activities we do, Mrs. Lion told me that she sees that as me telling her she is doing it wrong.

Most recently, I wrote about a DWC spanking. I thought I was suggesting a new approach to disciplinary spankings. Mrs. Lion told me that she thought she was doing a good job and was unhappy that I didn’t think so. I’m glad she told me. It gave me a chance to explain what I was thinking. I view these learnings as a way to provide input into our evolution. When I read about techniques that seem useful, I write about them as a form of coaching. Without reading that piece about a DWC spanking, I would have never known about this approach.

My problem is that all of my training and experience was doing BDSM scenes. Sensitivity to the bottom and how she reacts to the activity are key. The objective is sexual pleasure. A disciplinary spanking isn’t about providing me with sexual enjoyment. It’s about sending a strong message without doing real damage to my body. I’m supposed to hate being spanked. There are very few resources on the web on how to deliver this sort of thing. After we discussed it, my next spanking was a true DWC spanking that lasted more than ten minutes. I was spanked last Saturday, and I still had a sore spot on Wednesday. This is the desired result of a proper DWC punishment.

Since then, Mrs. Lion had mentioned punishment frequently. Often it is a playful reference. I like this a lot. It may seem that we aren’t taking domestic discipline seriously, but we are. The references, even in jest, keeps our disciplinary relationship top of mind. In the past, we have slipped due to inertia. Mrs. Lion’s references to punishing me mean she is thinking about her role, which makes me remember mine.

Lion sent an email today, which is a rule he’s only broken once, if I remember correctly, telling me he slept for a little while after I left. I’m jealous. I wondered if he should get punished for sleeping after I leave. I was kidding, of course. He said maybe he should sleep all day. My first thought was that if he was getting spanked for sleeping, he figured he should make it count and sleep all day. He reasoned that he would be less lonely.

When I was working from home, it never bothered me what he was doing. He was in his office doing whatever it is he does in his office. He was watching TV. He was snoozing (watching TV). It doesn’t really bother me if he sleeps while I’m at work. I wish I could snooze a bit more myself. I don’t think either of us has been getting the best sleep. That’s not unusual.

We didn’t do anything last night. When I came out of the shower, Lion was snoozing. By the time he woke up about an hour later, I didn’t feel like moving. It’s not like I had any big plans anyway. Lion always says I can wake him up. If he’s sleeping, doesn’t he need it? And if he’s been snoozing, doesn’t the argument that it’s too late to play fly out the window? He should be rested after a nap. That’s assuming I feel like doing anything then.

Lion spread eagle tied to bed
Plastic clothespins give Lion much more “fun.”

I was tired and achy when I came home. A little downtime helped. Then I made dinner, and the aches returned. They subsided again while we watched Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy. And then they were back for my shower. It’s no wonder I didn’t want to move when he woke up. Tonight, however, I’ll get him with some clothespins or a rope. No IcyHot. Been there, done that this week. I don’t promise the clothespins will be the “nice” wooden ones. They definitely won’t be the tiny ones. There are many choices in between, though.

He should be up to eight days or so in his wait. I still think he can wait longer. I want to see if we’re past the point of needing the orgasm experiment. If I can get him hard and get him to the edge consistently, we should be good. Then we can resume edging and orgasm denial. I’ll be able to take an orgasm when I want one. Yum!

LIon in thong panties

Why do I want it? This is a question that Mrs. Lion has decided not to explore. The “it” in question presents a moving target for her. It includes male chastity, domestic discipline, and many BDSM activities. In all of them, she does things to me that I’m almost sure to dislike when I get them. Almost all of them are my idea. What the hell?

The simplest and most logical answer is that I’m wired that way. Dig a little deeper, and things get more difficult. Is it that I like pain? Possibly. I do get hard when Mrs. Lion masturbates me while Icy Hot is burning my perineum and balls. I also sport an erection while she covers the same areas with clothespins. Is an erection an expression of pleasure? It signifies sexual arousal even when activities aren’t fun. After all, a woman being raped will often get wet and even have an orgasm. That doesn’t mean she welcomed the activity.

We are different. Everything Mrs. Lion does is consensual. I’ve agreed to the painful fun. The erection, while my balls burn, isn’t necessarily a signal that I’m having a good time. I’m not sure what it means. I know that I want her to do things like that to me. The same is true of male chastity. I get turned on thinking about being edged and going to sleep frustrated. Crazy, huh? Of course, it isn’t. I’m not crazy. My mother had me tested.

A much more difficult-to-understand kink is domestic discipline. I asked Mrs. Lion to take charge and punish me when she sees fit. She creates rules I must follow. Disobedience gets me punished. Mrs. Lion strongly prefers spanking me with a paddle. My last spanking hurt for three days. These are real punishments. DD has become part of the fabric of our marriage. Mrs. Lion expects obedience. She doesn’t behave like some BDSM dominant in black tights. She is a loving wife. When I break a rule, she either gives me “the look” or says, “Uh oh.” I know what that means. There is no drama. Punishments are also very routine. She tells me to get into position and then spanks me—no fetish at all,  a lot of pain.

This is how she chooses to conduct our disciplinary relationship. It works because she is consistent. I’ve learned that disobedience earns punishment with no drama. She does appear to be a little amused when it hurts for me to sit down. There is no sympathy and no scolding. It’s a very simple cause-and-effect situation. Break a rule and get punished.

Another related kink is when Mrs. Lion makes me wear panties or a diaper. I dislike either. Having to wear them is a very clear signal of who’s in charge. This is another situation that is way more fun to think about than to endure. Both are uncomfortable. She has also put nail polish on a toenail or two. That’s not uncomfortable, but it looks weird to me when I see my feet. These things are humiliating and not what I would do on my own. There’s a whole bag of ugly panties and tons of diapers ready for her to make me wear when the mood strike. She’s never made me wear panties for more than a few hours at a time. I’m not sure why we bought so many. Every so often, Mrs. Lion gets creative and thinks of something new for me. I like that a lot.

All of this has a rather simple common denominator: they demonstrate her control. She doesn’t have to walk around wearing boots and carrying a whip. She doesn’t have to bark orders or scold me. Ten minutes with her paddle is enough to make sure I remember who is in charge. In case you wondered, it’s how I want it.