When I got to work this morning, I sat for a minute in the quiet car with rain hitting the roof. I fantasized about how nice it would be not to go to work. I’m sure everyone does that from time to time. I rarely have quiet time. I have to savor it when I can.

This afternoon, I have a doctor’s appointment. I despise going to the doctor. I hate the dentist more, but doctors are a close second. Unless I’ve lost twenty pounds and every blood test comes back with passing grades, I’ll get the disapproving look and the guilt trip. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just refill my prescriptions so I can get on with things for another 3-6 months. I know what I should be doing. I know what I’m not doing. I also know I stress-eat, and no amount of salad will fill the chocolate hole. With any luck, I’ll be out of there in fifteen minutes. Luckily, I don’t normally have to wait very long for the doctor to come in. Lion’s doctors tend to take over an hour just to get him in the room.

It is, once again, the weekend. I’m not falling for it again. I make all sorts of plans. I’ll get this done or that done. Come Sunday night, I’m still staring at a long list of things I didn’t do. I’m not promising a thing. Lion wonders why I set my expectations so low. Weekends are a prime example. If I expect things, I am disappointed. This weekend, the only plan I have is to lounge around and do nothing. And that might actually get done.

I know Lion is looking for love. He’s looking for his version of play. I’m not promising a thing. If it happens, it happens. I’m tired of being the lioness that cried wolf. It’s not fair to Lion. He doesn’t deserve to get his hopes up only to have them dashed. Nope. Lounging and loafing. Anything else is cake.

We’ve had a lot of rain over the past few days. The rivers are very high, and there’s low-level flooding. It’s been dreary and yucky. My sinuses have been plugged for over a week. Is it any wonder I don’t want to do anything this weekend?

Things have been rather quiet here the last six months or so. Not silent. Mrs. Lion spanks me as needed. But there hasn’t been much play. Mrs. Lion defines play as a synonym for sex. I don’t. Play for me refers to BDSM which can include sex but isn’t necessarily edging or ejaculation. Spanking is not play to me.

This came to mind for a couple of reasons. My post yesterday (“Balls!“) included a picture of my balls decorated with over thirty clothespins. Now that’s play! We have new restraints that have only been used once about a month ago. It’s true that Mrs. Lion also tied up my balls once or twice as well. It seems that we are interacting less in general. I wonder if she’s losing interest in play. I sure hope not.

We may be suffering some of Mrs. Lion’s famous inertia. It comes over her from time to time. She knows I’ve been grumbling about it for a while. If there is something I can do to help, I hope she lets me know. I miss the fun and the closeness when we are more active. This is one of those posts designed to update you and perhaps inspire her.

On another front (rear, really), It’s been two days, and I still feel my most recent spanking. Mrs. Lion says she doesn’t remember what she did to make this one more effective. I have no idea except that I’m still sore. There is a rough patch on each cheek that seems to be to blame for my discomfort. I guess practice makes perfect for domestic discipline.

I have been asking to work from home for a while. I finally got approval yesterday. I had a choice of working certain days home and certain days in the office or full-time home. I chose full-time home. Of course, I’ll need to go in for certain meetings, and we have some training coming up, but 99% of work from home seemed like a no-brainer. When I told Lion, he said, “You don’t want to do that.” Huh? I thought he’d be jumping for joy.

He reasons that they’ll forget about me and won’t see me as valuable anymore if I’m not around. I’m not sure how they’d think my job was getting done. No one else does it but me. I guess I can understand his thinking to some extent. I suggested working from home three days and at work two. “Or,” he said, “you could do it the other way around.” Huh? (If you’re playing along at home, the score is now Mrs. Lion 0, Lion bat shit crazy.)

If I didn’t know better, and I do, it might sound like Lion is trying to keep me out of the house. Does he have a girlfriend he sneaks in while I’m at work? Does she show up three times a week, and I’d be cramping his style? No. I know that’s not it. I was amazed. If nothing else, I thought he’d be happy I could take some of the puppy energy off his hands. On my way out the door this morning, he said he’s excited to have me home more often. Men!

You may think this rose to the level of annoyance. Nope. Lion’s buns are safe. It just felt like someone let the wind out of my sails. I already know I’ll have to be in the office for at least half a day so I can do things that shouldn’t leave the office. Beyond that, it’s up to me. We’ll figure it out over the weekend. I don’t need to make a decision immediately.

[Lion — I’m very happy that Mrs. Lion can work from home. My concern is that she works for a small company that has always required everyone to work at the office. I’m concerned that people will get used to her not being there and forget why she is so important. As far as I’m concerned, she can be home all of the time. I think that she needs to maintain and build personal relationships with her fellow employees. You can’t do that from home.]

Balls, testicles, hairy bedonkers, nuts, family jewels are just a few names for that fleshy bag that hangs below the penis. I thought that many women don’t like them. I was wrong. In a small survey on Twitter, I asked women for their views on balls. To my surprise, none responded that they didn’t like them.  Twenty percent said they only liked looking, forty percent liked touching, and forty percent enjoyed kissing them.

Mrs. Lion’s favorite view.

I didn’t expect that response. Of course, my sample came from women who follow me. They would be sexually open and biased toward male genitalia. Still, nearly half liked using their mouths there. Nice! I like my balls tickled and kissed. Licking is nice too. I didn’t ask about that. Mrs. Lion says that she is fond of my balls. She certainly enjoys torturing them. She likes to tie and separate them and then jerk me off. My tightly tied balls bounce on every stroke. She also likes covering them with clothespins of various types. Also, my most feared activity is Icy Hot or some other menthol or capsaicin rub applied there. The skin is much more sensitive than on my cock.

Mrs. Lion loves clothespins.

I love it when she tickles my balls. That feels good as foreplay and when she is sucking me. If she is using her hands, a finger (or two, or something larger) up my ass simultaneously is very hot. Mrs. Lion is especially fond of slapping my balls. I hate that. Well, if she uses a light item, like a paint stirrer, it gives me a nice sting. If she uses her hand, I get a nasty ache in my balls each time she swats. She claims that I need more “practice” to toughen me up. So far, she hasn’t followed up.

I think my balls are more attractive without hair. I think pubic hair, in general, is unnecessary—just one man’s opinion.