We saw somewhere that Jersey Mike’s sub shop is giving 100% of sales to local charities today. Lion suggested we go off the rails and get subs for lunch. I’m pretty sure, calorie-wise, we aren’t allowed to eat anything else today. It was worth it though.

Lion is still sleeping a lot. His tummy is better, but that doesn’t keep him awake. I was tired yesterday and I’m tired again today. We’re both wondering if Lion is/was sick, and now we’re wondering if I’m sick too. I guess we could burn a few COVID tests to be sure. We’re probably not sleeping well again. Maybe that’s why Lion hasn’t made it to orgasm yet.

Since we gave to charities at lunch, maybe I’ll be charitable and unlock Lion for some exercise. He hasn’t been using the treadmill as instructed. I had it buried for a few weeks and then he hasn’t been feeling well. I can’t punish him for it if there’s a valid excuse. He’ll just have to get his exercise another way. I doubt it will burn many calories, but it still counts.

For some reason, the screw on his cage keeps coming loose. He tells me he has a screw loose. I’ve known that for a long time. I threatened to use some Loc-tite on it. That would solve the problem, but then it might never come out again. We don’t want that.

I need to work on him to get my orgasm. By the time I get it, maybe he’ll have a reserve of cream filling for me. He’s been very stingy the last few times. Oddly enough, when I haven’t been able to get him to the edge lately, I swear I taste pre-cum. Maybe it’s wishful thinking. I do love a mouthful of Lion cream.

Dear Diary,

Life keeps throwing curveballs at me. Monday night, my stomach was upset again. Mrs. Lion had a sore shoulder and legs too. Sex was so far away from the table, it was still in the store waiting to be picked up.  I don’t feel bad about that. My libido is hiding at the moment. All in all, physical contact isn’t happening right now and I miss it.

It’s probably my fault that we equate closeness with sex. Neither of us is very demonstrative. Our bed isn’t very good for snuggling. It’s two joined twin beds. Each has separate controls for raising the head and legs. We traded our old king-size Sleep Number bed for this split-king before I got rotator cuff surgery. It was either get this bed or buy a recliner for me to live in for a couple of months after the operation. I didn’t like the recliner idea at all, and we bought the split-king bed. We can’t afford to replace it.

Mrs. Lion is terrific. She’ll do anything for me. When  I don’t feel well, she will do anything I ask to help me. My problem is that I don’t want to ask for anything at those times. I’m not sure why, but I don’t. Monday night is a good example. She was concerned about me and asked several times if she could do something for me. I told her that I was OK. I wasn’t.

When she’s sick, she wants to be left alone. I am the opposite. The result is that I end up bugging her when she’s under the weather, and she leaves me alone when I’m sick. I have no idea what she could have done to help me. I didn’t need anything that I couldn’t do for myself. I guess I just wanted her head on my chest and her hand on my leg. When she does that, I always feel better.

Late last night, I finally lost my dinner. I felt better and was able to fall asleep. Mrs. Lion was keeping herself awake so that she could put my eye drops in. She does that for me every morning and night. Sure, I can do that for myself, but it’s a nice point of connection.

Yes, Diary, I’m still locked in my Jail Bird. The security screw came loose again, and Mrs. Lion retightened it. It seems to work loose on its own after about 24 hours. I suppose we could replace it with a padlock. We have one that fits the small hole in the Jail Bird. I prefer the security screw. It’s smaller than the lock and doesn’t have sharp edges that catch my leg. The male chastity device is still comfortable and my urethra remains centered.

If I’m feeling OK tonight and Mrs. Lion isn’t achy, maybe she will unlock me, and we can see what develops. If not, we always have tomorrow.

Things change. That’s no surprise to anyone. Even kink changes over time. We change what we call things. BDSM was “Leather” a decade ago. No biggie. The Internet tends to shorten things and loves initials. There have been more interesting changes. Take spanking, for example.

In 2010 it was a big deal to talk about spanking on the “bare.” Somehow, the erotic connotations of exposing a naked bottom added spice to the spanking conversation. It always seemed odd to me. In all my years in the BDSM community, I never saw a spanking that wasn’t on a bare bottom. But “on the bare” was an important component in spanking discussions.

That’s changed. I almost never see references to the exposure of the bottom in the context of spanking. I’m glad because references to pants up or down seem childish. Conversations center on much more relevant topics. Also, I’ve noticed that there is less talk about the actual act of spanking. Very few things are written with blow-by-blow accounts. The talk is more about the reason for the spanking and the results once it’s done.

Male chastity has also evolved. When we started this blog in 2014, chastity device discussions centered around “security.” People worried about being able to escape the device for a jerkoff session. The result was that a lot of men had to lubricate their base rings to avoid chafing. Unauthorized removal fears trumped comfort. Silly, when you think about it. Men initiate male chastity. Why would they want to cheat after working hard to get their partners to lock them up?

Another change was shorter cages. I would like to think that I had something to do with that bit of evolution. When I started male chastity, I followed measurement instructions and ordered a Jail Bird with a 2-1/2 inch cage. It didn’t take me long to realize that there were times my penis was shorter and there was space in the front of the cage. The result was that peeing became a messy challenge. It sprayed when it hit the bars in the front.

I went through two rounds of shortening. I finally ended up with a one-inch cage. It was barely long enough to contain the head of my penis. As a result, my urethra remained centered, and urination was no problem. Also, the device was comfortable to wear. I have it on now and forget it’s there. Holy Trainer and others offer off-the-shelf cages that are very short, like mine. The purpose of a male chastity device is to prevent erections and unauthorized masturbation. My tiny Jail Bird does that perfectly.

It seems to me that the combination of easy access to information and the ability to share the reality of these kinks allows us to learn from one another. It’s exciting that our exotic practices can find communities that support positive growth. Yay Internet!

I did a lot of climbing up and down ladders over the weekend. I installed a solar powered light over our car charger. I moved one of the Ring cameras closer to the charger. And I replaced the batteries in another camera. Unfortunately, I couldn’t tell if the light was switched on until it got dark and there was no light. Lion didn’t like the placement of the solar panel. And the batteries I replaced were just as dead as the ones I’d taken out. Up the ladder again Sunday.

I was achier Sunday than I’d been Saturday. Ladders will do that. I used to be up and down ladders all day at work and my body has never forgiven me. It sees a ladder and goes into full on “you’ll pay for this” mode. Needless to say, I was not happy to have to redo things. Lion seemed disappointed. Fine. I went up the ladder three more times.

Sunday was also drain two of the gardens day. I remember Lion saying “we” were going to garden. I hate the royal we. It usually means me. Anyway, “we” turned on the wax earlier in the day to give it time to melt. “We” drained the gardens, refilled, redrained, re-refilled and fed them. “We” took a bunch of garbage and recyclables out to the cans. Then “we” waxed Lion.

You’d think after all that, “we” would have an orgasm. Nope. I’m not sure what’s going on. Lion, of course, thinks he’s broken. I, of course, don’t. I haven’t paid much attention, but I wonder if there’s a pattern to his brokenness. Does it come in cycles? Maybe every eight orgasms, he has a problem. Maybe it’s tied to a certain number of days or weeks. Phases of the moon? I don’t know. I’m grasping at straws.

Each time he’s been unlocked, he gets hard right away. Yesterday, he was oiled up and ready to go. But then he couldn’t go all the way. Usually waxing gets him excited, with all the fondling and rubbing. And the oil makes it more sensual, I’d guess. Well, he was excited. It just didn’t last long enough to give me my orgasm.

Where is my orgasm? I want my orgasm!