That’s my lion!

I have training this week. I’m not looking forward to it. It strikes me as a meeting that should have been an email. My department is different from the rest and, while I do need to know some of the same things, only my boss needs to know how to do my job. I’m sure I’ll be bored. I hate being bored. I find it more exhausting than being too busy.

Lion was on hold with iRobot, trying to get our stupid robot vacuum serviced again. Then he got a phone call he was waiting for, so he passed iRobot to me so he could be bounced around on another phone call. I’d just started writing my post. It’s difficult to write while obnoxious hold music is blaring in your ear. And I should be working. And the dog is whining. It’s still better than being bored.

It’s the last day of January. Lion is already ahead of the game as far as orgasms are concerned. By rights, I should give him one tonight just in case we fall behind at some point in the future. Of course, unlike Lion setting up the coffee pot, there’s no penalty for not giving him the desired number of orgasms per month. My desired, not his. If I asked him, he’d probably want more than one a week. There’s nothing wrong with that, and he may wind up getting more than one a week, but I’m committed to one a week for the year. I don’t know when Lion last had 52 orgasms in one year. I’m sure he knows, or he can look it up. I bet it’s been a few years, at least. [Lion — The last time I had at least 52 orgasms was in 2018 when I had 60\

The problem I have with giving him one tonight is that we haven’t done anything since his past orgasm. I spanked him one night, but that doesn’t count as sex. I feel like I should edge him a few times between orgasms. Where’s the frustration in giving him an orgasm every few days? Sure, he may be horny, but he won’t be suffering. There’s that bitch peeking out again. Make the poor Lion suffer. Spoiler alert: he loves it.

Mrs. Lion’s new leather “paddle.” Actually, it’s a strap.

If you saw Mrs. Lion’s post yesterday, you heard that I got my first spanking in a month. I regretted prodding Mrs. Lion into spanking me. As she began, I was truly sorry that I asked her to punish me when needed. I was even sorrier that I reminded her that it had been a long time since my last visit with her spanking bench.

Are you sensing some hypocrisy here? Here I am, a big-time advocate of domestic discipline, writer of endless posts encouraging my wife to paddle me (my autocorrect changed that to “saddle me,” not bad either.), whining about being spanked. The irony isn’t lost on me. It isn’t lost on Mrs. Lion either. From what I’ve read, I’m not unusual.

The obvious reason someone would want to be spanked is that it is erotic. Many women who want to be spanked get direct arousal from the beating. Some can orgasm during a spanking without any genital stimulation. Some guys remain erect throughout a severe spanking. That’s the exception. Most men, including me, lose their erections (if they had one in the first place) shortly after the action begins.

It’s this loss of arousal that confuses many spanking partners. It also confuses the guys. Mrs. Lion has been spanking me for years, and I still don’t understand why I can get hard thinking about being spanked yet truly want to escape when I’m strapped to the spanking bench. It doesn’t make sense. One more reason why women shake their heads when confronted by male behavior.

Lest you think all of this discussion is about a tiny percentage of men, let me point out that in study after study, over 85 percent of men and 87 percent of women dream about spanking. The vast majority dream about being spanked. No, they don’t dream about it every night, but they dream about it often enough to remember.

There’s an obvious erotic connection between spanking and sex. If your bottom is bare, it’s like your naughty bits are too. Someone doing something to your tender bottom is very close to the area that’s the most fun. It’s normal to dream about spanking,  yet it’s not-so-normal to be spanked as an adult. Puritan values!

I can’t deny that being spanked is erotic for me to think about. I can’t deny that I like thinking about a spanking I’ve received. I also can’t deny that I am more interested in sex after a spanking. Well, not right after one, but soon after. Mrs. Lion knows that. Sometimes it isn’t front of mind for her. When she remembers, she is extremely effective. Hopefully, she will remember more often.

By the way, the new “long leather paddle” she refers to is a thick strap. It’s flexible and about 15-inches long. It’s made from two pieces of thick leather that have been glued and sewed together. She is mastering its use. Maybe I can offer a lesson on using it. Stupid lion!

Lion harangued a spanking out of me. I know I should have done it sooner. If he hadn’t done anything to deserve it, I should have done a “just because” spanking. And I learned something about the new rule. Maybe it’s not fair. If I suspended the rule about eating first because he can’t see if I’ve eaten, then giving him a rule about spilling on the bed, when he can’t see if he’s in danger of knocking things over, isn’t such a good rule. It would be similar to my making a rule against his falling down. He doesn’t try to fall down. It just happens. I guess I’m back to the drawing board in the rule department.

I moved the spanking bench into the bedroom. It doesn’t fit very well where Lion thought it could go. I’ll have to play around with it. We may have to swap the hamper and the bench around. We’ll get it worked out. His principle is sound, at least as far as getting it out of the pantry and closer to where it’s used is concerned. Theoretically, his buns will get more spankings. Let’s see if it works.

As for last night, in about five minutes, I had him howling. I started out with the newest leather paddle. I still need some practice with it because it’s a little too long. If you ask Lion, he’ll probably say it didn’t stop me from hitting him hard. However, when I switched to the shorter leather paddle, I hit even harder. I think I saw the beginnings of little dots of blood forming. I must have been whomping him good for that to happen. Our theory has been that leather paddles don’t make him bleed. Maybe that’s not true. It’s possible they can if I hit hard enough. I’m not trying to make him bleed. It just always happened with the wood paddles.

Because he was yelling so much, and it had been such a long time since his tender cheeks had felt the sting of a paddle, I decided to take it easy on the poor lion. I asked him how long he thought I’d been spanking him. He said it was too long. He tends to say that no matter how long I swat him. He was red and I figured he’d feel it for a few hours. I think it was a good re-introduction to spanking.

We may have a new record. Today (Saturday), it’s been 29 days since my last spanking. I realize that many domestic discipline purists think tracking time between spankings is more BDSM than DD (Love the abbreviations! hover over them to see expanded definitions). I disagree. There is a very good reason to remain aware of this statistic.

At first glance, you might think that a long time between spankings is a tribute to my good behavior. Maybe, but I don’t think so. I get uneasy if too much time goes by. The reason is that it’s less a tribute to me than it is a sign that we are slipping. Domestic Discipline is a lot like sex. No, it isn’t sexy. What disciplinary spanking and sex have in common is that the more time passes between activities, the less likely anything will happen.

The simple fact is that doing nothing is always easier than doing something. Observing and punishing infractions are work. It takes energy and focus to be a disciplinary wife. I’m not suggesting that Mrs. Lion doesn’t want her role. I’m saying that every day that goes by moves DD further and further to the back of her mind. At this point, only forgetting the coffee pot has a chance of getting the spanking bench out again.

Speaking of the spanking bench, Mrs. Lion keeps it in our pantry. We have room to stand it up in our bedroom. That would put it only a couple of feet from where she likes to use it. Moving it won’t change things. It would just save her some steps. At this point, we need emergency road service to jump-start discipline.

I debated intentionally “forgetting” the coffee pot. That feels dishonest. I don’t want to do it. Provoking a spanking may be a way to get things started, but I can’t do it. It’s breaking the rules. No, not the rules that get me punished, the ground rules that provide a foundation for our disciplinary marriage. It’s cheating. We don’t cheat.

Even though I’ve written about this issue recently, Mrs.Lion hasn’t taken the hint. No, I don’t mean that she should have jumped up and spanked me. (Well, that would’ve been OK with me.). I thought she might want to discuss my concern. She hasn’t. When I try to bring it up, she politely shuts me down. Why?

Has something changed? Is there a problem that Mrs. Lion doesn’t want to share with me? I don’t know. Where’s a jump start when we need one?

[Mrs. Lion — Okay. Okay. Okay. Sheesh! By the time you read this, Lion will have a sore butt if for no other reason than he’s irritating.]