By:
In: Mrs Lion Comments

I know I’m not always clear when I explain things. Other times, I’m very sure I’m being clear. A few minutes ago, I was explaining to Lion that my office is closed so we can be trained on the new computer system. It seems ridiculous to be closed Wednesday morning and Thursday all day, only to be open again on Friday as if we’ll learn it that quickly. I also mentioned that we’re closed Saturday because we were supposed to have first aid and CPR training but the instructor has COVID so that was cancelled. I went on to say that I found out we can do first aid and CPR training online, but if we want Red Cross certification we’d have to take it in person. Lion wondered why the Red Cross would be certifying our computer training. Um. No.

This isn’t the first time, nor will it be the last, that he hasn’t listened to my entire statement and then gotten confused. I confess. I do it to him too, but I usually realize I’ve done it and ask him to repeat a certain part. Maybe I’ve heard the first part and some of the second part, but when I’m processing the information, it doesn’t quite make sense. From my point of view, hearing some of the second part but needing clarification is better than wondering why the Red Cross would be certifying our computer training. Of course, I’m biased. I think I’m right and Lion is wrong. He probably thinks he’s right and I’m wrong.

The funny thing is, he had a boss, many years ago, who would read the first part of an email and then ask a bunch of questions that could have been answered if he’d just read further along in the email. Lion does a similar thing. I’ll ask three questions and he’ll answer two. What about the third? Even if I ask in a subsequent email, he won’t answer that damn third question. It’s frustrating. For a while, I’d ask one question per email and that seemed to go better. Now, we can just yell at each other through the wall rather than sending emails. I’d like to say it completely solves the problem, but it doesn’t.

I know I could probably make a rule about listening or answering questions, but these things are subjective. He’ll say he listened. I’ll say he didn’t. I’ll say I listened. He’ll say I didn’t. (I listen more often than he thinks I do.) If it really frustrates me, I can always punish him for pissing me off. That’s a great blanket rule. Why did you leave the kitchen light on and make me get up to turn it off? You pissed me off. Whack! Why did you lose the dog’s toy in the hamper again and make me get up to find it? You pissed me off. Whack! I sound like a bitch, don’t I? In reality, I don’t whack Lion as often as he’d like me to, and certainly not as often as I should. It actually takes quite a bit to piss me off, unless I’m already stressed out by work and life in general. I have my moments of complete frustration with everything and Lion may just happen to breathe a little too loudly. Thankfully, that doesn’t happen often. As a matter of fact, I think it’s happened far less often now that I’m working from home. Unless you count dinner time. What’s for dinner is still the most annoying question ever.

[Lion — My current confusion was caused by the fact that Mrs. Lion’s office sent an email to all patients (I’m a patient) that the office would be closed for new computer system training. I didn’t realize that first aid training was also involved.]

By:
In: Spanking
I lie down on the bench and let Mrs. Lion strap me down. I have at least ten minutes to regret my decision. Yes, this is me.

I usually hate word games. Mrs. Lion loves them. However, I’m addicted to Wordle. So far, I’ve only failed to guess the word once. Today I got it in my second guess. I won’t give it away, but let’s say that my interest in spanking helped. I discovered a blog that I enjoy a lot. I found it via Julie’s blog. It’s called butt-stuff. The owner is a thirty-something woman who enjoys, is addicted to, getting spanked. I have no idea how much her writing is about her reality. I like it.

Speaking of spanking, I was sure that Tuesday night would bring me an unpleasant spanking. I’m due. It’s been 26 days since my last one. I also racked up an offense when I forgot the coffee pot a week ago. It’s a very odd feeling. I am turned on, thinking that Mrs. Lion will be spanking me. At the same time, I was very relieved last night when she didn’t bring out her spanking bench.

Wanting and not wanting the same thing is mind-bending. Part of me craves being strapped to the bench. Another part fervently hopes she will forget and let me watch TV in peace. How can I want something I hate? Am I crazy? I suppose this is the same feeling people get when they anticipate a gift and then get upset if the giver spills the beans about what it is.

Since Mrs. Lion’s spankings are so intense, the conflict between wanting and not wanting one feels truly weird. I understand why this contrast is necessary. If the spankings were fun or sexy, they wouldn’t serve to correct me. If I weren’t attracted to being spanked, Mrs. Lion would have trouble getting me in position for a beating.

A moth is attracted to a flame. It doesn’t understand what will happen when it gets too close. I, on the other hand, know exactly what will happen after Mrs. Lion cinches the thick leather strap around my torso. Still, like the moth, I’m drawn ineluctably to lie face-down on the bench and await my fate.

By:
In: Mrs Lion Comments

This morning, I made an unusual commute to work. We had a meeting for the whole team. These meetings are rarely for the whole team. It usually highlights something this department did or what the other department is about to do. This time, however, it was, at least in part, about the new software we are about to use. That doesn’t mean it wasn’t as boring as the other meetings. Afterward, I had a training session during which I found out just how distasteful my job will become once we transition. At first, nothing much will change for me. Then I’ll be working out of both the old and the new system. Blech! I’m not looking forward to that.

I picked up lunch on the way home and we spent a little while together. We haven’t been apart for that long in ages. I normally run out to pick up prescriptions or do other shopping and I’m home in an hour or so. This was over five hours. I’m now back at my home office desk and I’m realizing how tired I am. I didn’t sleep well. I knew I had to be up a little earlier than usual and that throws me off. Lion said I was snoring loudly, so he didn’t get much sleep.

On the way home, I was trying to decide what I should do with Lion tonight. He may not be horny yet, but that doesn’t mean he won’t enjoy something. I mean, he won’t like IcyHot. He never likes that. But he does love to have his balls tied up. That’s something that he’d like whether or not he was in the mood for anything else. I’ll know pretty much right away if he’s enjoying himself. We can proceed from there.

Of course, it’s always possible we’ll be too tired to do much of anything. I know I will be unless I get my second wind.

By:
In: Domestic discipline
When Mrs. Lion is up to speed, this is what my bottom looks like after she finishes.

When we started this blog (February 2014), we had just started male chastity. Mrs. Lion gave me  “play” spankings. I realized that wearing a male chastity device gave Mrs. Lion control over any sexual pleasure that I could have. It was an interesting feeling, sort of tingles and some annoyance at my lack of control. The point is that I discovered that I like feeling her control.

It didn’t take too many years to figure out that I would find more than sexual control exciting. We experimented with spanking me for breaking rules that Mrs. Lion created. None of this happened quickly. We discovered that consistent enforcement of those rules changed my behavior.

The most startling change for me was the don’t-spill-on-your-shirt rule. Both of us figured that I would reliably break this rule forever. I certainly made no conscious effort to avoid getting food on my shirt. When Mrs. Lion spanked me each and every time I got food on my shirt, the frequency of infractions dropped dramatically. It got to the point that it was rare that I needed correction for this rule. I didn’t consciously work to avoid spilling. I just became magically neater.

My interest in being spanked made me a willing participant in helping Mrs. Lion become a more effective disciplinarian. I encouraged her to make spankings more painful and long-lasting. She learned to spank me without feeling bad about hurting me. She began to pride herself in doing a”good job.”

We also learned that unless we stayed in practice, the observation of infractions and the quality of my spankings would decline. Thanks to the DWC, I learned that timing spankings is important. Mrs. Lion adopted the DWC minimum spanking duration of ten minutes. She sets a timer and spanks well past when it goes off. If I break more than one rule, the duration increases by five minutes for each additional infraction.

Today (Tuesday), it’s been 25 days since my last spanking. That’s a very long time for us. The chances are good that Mrs. Lion will have trouble delivering the high-quality disciplinary spankings I normally get. It may take her two or three more before she gets into the swing of things.

We haven’t reached the point where discipline is consistent no matter how much time passes between spankings. We both will “slip” if the spanking bench doesn’t come out fairly often. We both seem happier when Mrs. Lion discovers infractions and punishes them. It isn’t that she likes to beat me. She doesn’t. Well, she doesn’t mind beating me. She truly enjoys catching me breaking a rule. It’s a sort of game for her.

That’s why self-reporting isn’t good for us. She likes to catch me. I suppose that I like it when she does. I’m not too fond of the spanking that follows. However, it’s part of the program. When Mrs. Lion is up to speed, my bottom hurts for at least three days after she spanks me. I wonder how soon she will be back in fighting form.

tools of her trade

We have a large collection of spanking implements. Some are wooden paddles. We also have leather, rubber, and silicone implements. Mrs. Lion likes to experiment and discover which delivers the effects she wants. She has also experimented with my real estate. We’ve both learned that hard paddling of my “sit spot,” the lower part of my butt, and upper thighs are the most painful and will hurt for days after she is done. She’s also learned that spanking inside my crack is especially uncomfortable for me. When she is really going, I’m red up my entire cleft.

Mrs. Lion has also learned that wooden paddles will make me bleed. She doesn’t cut me. Apparently, when the skin swells from her ministrations, it will sometimes develop small cracks and let little bits of blood escape. Other than being messy, it isn’t a sign of injury. She has learned to carry on even after some blood appears. I’ve wondered if my hide will toughen and the bleeding will stop. I guess we’ll see when the beatings are more frequent.

Leather seems to make me red without blood. It takes more time and works to get the punishment I need when she uses leather implements. Rubber (she has two spankers made of thick conveyor-belt rubber) is very nasty. I think that Mrs. Lion tries to get an even color when she spanks me. She also wants to hear me yelping and see me squirming. She’s very good at getting me to do both.

We’ve both learned that while the ten-minute spanking needs to hurt a lot, it’s just as important that I feel the results for days afterward. If it hurts each time I sit down, I’m reminded to avoid getting in trouble again. While I hate being spanked, I truly hate being uncomfortable for days after. We’ve also learned that the more unhappy I am after being punished, the more likely I will be careful to avoid needing another spanking.

Poor, punished lion

If all this seems cruel, you are missing the point. Domestic discipline makes me happy. No, I don’t like being paddled. I like that Mrs. Lion paddles me when I need correction. I like that she cares enough about me to correct me strongly enough to help me change. It may seem excessive to beat me for ten minutes if I forget to set up the coffee pot. It isn’t. I need to be smart enough to know that I can avoid that beating if I take the three minutes to set it up.

Maybe one reason we need to be sure that I’m corrected regularly is the connection domestic discipline makes between us. It’s not about the spankings as much as about effective communication between us. I don’t live in fear of Mrs. Lion beating me. Fear would be destructive to our relationship. I know I will be sorry if I break a rule. I also know that weirdly, we both enjoy the contest where Mrs. Lion has to discover my infractions. When she does, I get the penalty.

The way we practice it, domestic discipline isn’t a fearsome disciplinary practice. It’s half-game and half-serious discipline. The result is that I willingly submit to punishments I earn. The punishments help me change to be a better man. It’s a clear win-win for both of us.