I realize that since I’ve been home, nearly eighteen months now, I’ve worn clothing less than four hours a week. I only dress for excursions out of the house. Most of the time, that’s a single trip to go shopping with Mrs. Lion. Occasionally, there’s a doctor’s appointment for me or the dog. Otherwise, I’m here at home, completely naked.
A few months ago Mrs. Lion said that I could wear clothes if I want. If I want? It’s been nearly twenty years since my rule has been to be naked at home (or in my hotel room if traveling). I’ve faithfully obeyed this rule. I can’t really want to wear clothes any more than being able to masturbate. I’m conditioned. Nudity is part of me.
Time and consistent enforcement of rules will eventually turn them into the natural state of things. Take male chastity. I haven’t decided when I will ejaculate in almost eight years. Mrs. Lion decides and then stimulates me until I have an orgasm. We both consider this the normal way things should happen. She would be upset if I had an orgasm she didn’t provide. I can hardly remember the time when I decided when I would ejaculate.
Neither of us considers it a bit odd that I should be spanked for disobedience. The process is routine for us. Mrs. Lion doesn’t give a second thought to using her paddle to punish me. That’s her role. I’m not a bit surprised when she brings out the spanking bench. I know that I have to mount it and accept my punishment. We don’t think of it as BDSM or any other abbreviations for dominant/submissive activities. I don’t think of myself as submissive. Mrs. Lion certainly doesn’t think of herself as a femdom.
That’s the most interesting thing about our dynamic. What began as kink is now just a normal part of our lives. There are no special rituals. Aside from writing about it here, we don’t discuss any of it much. There’s nothing to talk about. Perhaps the fact that the stuff that started as kink has become routine is the most remarkable thing about what we do.