From my side of the paddle, spanking seems to be something Mrs. Lion learned and consistently applies. I lie lengthwise on the spanking bench. She straps me down and then begins. Her preferred technique is to alternate cheeks, first hitting one, then the other. This technique is typically what over-the-knee spankers use. It makes sense. Large enough paddles to cover both cheeks are very difficult to use over the knee.

The defunct Disciplinary Wives Club website suggested that a disciplinary wife has two spanking implements: a hairbrush or other OTK tool and a longer, more substantial paddle for severe corrections when the husband is draped over a chair or other object. The larger paddle is used to hit both cheeks at once.

I can attest that larger, longer paddles are far more painful than smaller ones. Since I’m always in a position where Mrs. Lion can use either type, she has a lot of choices. Even so, when she uses a larger paddle, like the one I recently got her (right), she still uses it in the alternating cheek technique.

That got me thinking. I’ve seen many videos and GIFs that show spankings with the larger paddles. They always cover both cheeks with each swat. When Mrs. Lion decides to hit me that way, I really feel it. It’s far worse than the alternating cheek method. Part of the reason is that the larger paddle has a bigger target, and Mrs. Lion feels safer hitting harder. I hate those twin-cheek spankings.

After a few swats on both cheeks, Mrs. Lion generally goes back to the alternating cheek spanking. I think she is more comfortable with that technique. Smaller paddles and alternating cheeks have their advantages. For one thing, it is possible to reach tender areas between the butt and thighs. She can also spread my cheeks and apply a paddle to the anal area and my perineum. I truly hate that.

However, a twin-cheeks spanking is more memorable to me. Each swat revisits an already-stinging area of my bottom. It feels like my butt is on fire after a few swats. I complain and yelp to convince Mrs. Lion to take it easy. I’m usually successful in getting her to ease up. Sometimes, she will give me a short respite and then push me to my limit. Occasionally, she will repeat this process over and over. That’s the worst.

She knows how much I hate a twin-cheeks spanking. [Mrs. Lion — I do? I find it awkward to hit both sides at once and I’m never sure if one side is actually taking the brunt of it. I thought alternating concentrated the force on one area and that made it worse. Live and learn.] That’s why I’m surprised that she rarely gives me more than a few swats on both cheeks. Is it habit that pushes her back to the alternating cheeks? I wonder.

wood spoon paddle on bare butt

Both male chastity and domestic discipline are strongly related. Male chastity is a sexual game that turns sexual control over to another person. Those of us who practice this long-term generally stop wearing the hardware and accept control without the need for devices to keep our hands off our cocks. I admit that part of the fun of male chastity is being locked into a male chastity device that makes erection impossible. It’s hot, but at this point, unnecessary.

Maybe this sexual game ushered in our disciplinary marriage. That fateful night in December 2013, when I asked Mrs. Lion to lock me into a male chastity device, we had a short discussion that changed everything for me. She asked why I wanted my penis locked up. I told her that it would prevent me from masturbating. She was surprised.

It turned out that she had no idea that I jerked off. I had been doing it two or three times a week. She hadn’t been particularly interested in sex, and I was filling in. Without any prompting from me, she announced that I was never to jerk off again. Then she said that she wanted me to do it right then. She wanted to see how I did it. I did while she watched. Then she locked me into the Chinese male chastity device I found on Amazon.

I was locked up in various devices 24/7 for over three years. There were some breaks when a device irritated me, and we waited for a replacement. About a month in, I got a Mature Metal Jail Bird. Then, I was locked continuously until I needed shoulder surgery three years later. During that time, Mrs. Lion would unlock me for teasing and occasionally orgasms. Almost all were handjobs. She was very good at teasing me and making me come with her hand. My hand was never allowed to get involved.

We’re now in our eleventh year, and I haven’t jerked off once. Mrs. Lion has complete control of my sexual activity. It’s become a normal part of our lives. I can tell her I’m horny, and she may or may not get me off. I usually have to wait a few days before she makes me  come. Often, it doesn’t happen until a day or two of a spanking. Spankngs take precedence in our house.

Speaking of spankings, Mrs. Lion has been spanking me almost since we first met. It took her a while to learn how to make a serious impression on me. I asked her to make and enforce rules. The process of doing this has been difficult. She still has a problem punishing me, but she has no problem spanking me. Connecting discipline with spanking gives her some trouble.

My interest in this power exchange began with sexual control and evolved into domestic discipline. I don’t think this is a usual path. Many of the men who want domestic discipline hate the idea of any sexual connection. Maybe there isn’t one for them. There certainly is for me.

I wish I could better explain it, but male chastity and then domestic discipline add a kind of emotional balance to my life. It isn’t that I’m out of control and need Mrs. Lion’s paddle to help me with anger or alcohol. I don’thave problems like that. I forget chores, interrupting and acting as a know-it-all sometimes. Mrs. Lion has written that those things bother her. She still hasn’t managed to punish me for those offenses consistently. I wish she would. When she is more active with her paddles, we both seem happier and in better balance.

blind lion

Almost exactly a year ago, I wrote a post (“Breaking The Sex Connection“) discussing my sexual difficulties. In that post, I said that if I were offered a medicine that would extend my life but kill my libido, I would elect a shorter life. This question arose almost 25 years earlier when I had the same conversation with a doctor friend. At that time, I wasn’t in any danger of losing my libido, but the doctor, a woman who suffered from depression, was shocked that I would rather end my life than lose my interest in sex. She was taking antidepressants and had lost her interest in sex.

She suffered from type-1 diabetes and had to inject insulin several times a day. She was severely overweight and very lonely. Sex was at the bottom of her wish list. She was shocked at my response. We didn’t discuss why at the time. Last year, when it looked like my ability to ejaculate was lost, I couldn’t believe that I could enjoy life without sex.

The issue came up again yesterday when I got a private message from a reader who thanked me for that post I wrote last July. He said that it helped him understand how his brother must have felt before his death. I won’t go into details. It was a touching account that exactly paralleled how I felt last July. It reminded me of my conversation with my friend a quarter-century ago. Now, I understand why she was so shocked.

As I’ve aged, I’ve lost valuable abilities. My vision is very poor (glaucoma), my balance is also unsteady due to spinal surgery. Thanks to modern medicine, my ability to ejaculate has been restored and I can enjoy sex. It makes sense to revisit that question of a year ago. What is so important that I would rather not live if I lost it? Is it the ability to ejaculate? That’s what I said last summer. I was wrong.

At that time, my vision was reduced but very functional. I had trouble getting around, but managed fairly well. My ability to get around has improved since then, but my vision has all but disappeared. I can’t survive without Mrs. Lion’s help. Ask me if I would reject a drug that would let me live longer but kill my libido. My answer would be that my libido has nothing to do with my decision to live or die.

The reason is that something more important has my attention. I need to be able to survive independently. My ability to do that seems tied to my loss of vision. I don’t feel safe in our house. It isn’t set up for someone with low vision. That means I am only able to safely go to the bedroom, bathroom, and my office. Trips to the kitchen frighten me. There are too my obstacles that can trip me. If I fall, I can’t get up on my own. This isn’t Mrs. Lion’s fault. She is doing her best. She can’t efficiently organize a space. I can no longer help her.

This boils down to a very simple fact: My ability to enjoy sex is no longer a survival issue. My ability to enjoy my environment is. If my vision continues to fail, my world will get smaller unless some miracle changes our environment into one I can safely navigate. Like our reader’s brother, I think that depression will be the shadow that will obscure my life. My interest in remaining in it also declines as my world gets smaller.

The main reason that depression hasn’t taken me yet is Mrs. Lion’s love. Even though my world is confined to two small rooms, she shares them with me. I can hold her hand and cuddle with her. She will help me any time I ask. Eventually, I’ll need too much. When will I become a weight she no longer wants to bear? That’s an assessment I have to make.

I know this has nothing to do with male chastity or domestic discipline. I don’t care. This blog is my journal, and this is a very important issue for me. I have to either find a way to become more independent and move beyond the two small rooms, or surrender to the shadow. I’m a fighter. I’ve never given up. Have I finally encountered something I can’t defeat?

I have been online longer than I would like to remember. I’m an early adopter and dived into online chat when modems were horribly slow. I learned (the hard way) a lot. Over the years, I had many adventures both good and bad. Mostly, they were good. I met some interesting women and discovered my kinky side.

One of the most important and painful lessons of online communication is what I call the false image. If you are exchanging text with another person, there is a lot of missing information. You can’t see their face as they type. It’s easy to misinterpret what is said. But that’s not the dangerous part. Our minds tend to fill in the blanks when chatting online. We devlop pictures of of people that are more what we want them to be than who they actually are.

It’s very easy to fall in love online. Lonely people are vulnerable to building rich images of the people they meet in a chat room. It isn’t difficult to feel deeply touched by the words typed on the screen. People who fall in love this way define their infatuations fiercely. Some even create blogs to breathe life into these half-real loves.

I met Mrs. Lion online. I found her profile on a dating site. I loved her picture. It was a closeup of her smiling face. We exchanged messages on the site. She sounded great. I knew that the longer we went without physically meeting, the more likely we would build false images of one another; images we could never live up to. After only a day or so of messaging, we went to the phone and met three days after first contact.

It was the right thing to do. We didn’t have time to develop mental images of one another. We had just enough time to decide we wanted to meet and have sex. We met at a motel  halfway between our homes. We were naked within ten minutes of meeting. Neither of us expected more than sex. It was why Mrs. Lion put her profile on the site. I wanted sex too.

Seems rather shallow, right? Maybe. It was all we wanted right then. I don’t think either of us wanted to have larger expectations. After all, it felt good to be so close to someone. We were both horny, and there was no pressure to fall in love or do anything more than give each other fun.

I’m still unsure what Mrs. Lion got from our first few meetings. For reasons I can’t remember, we agreed on anal sex for the first meeting. Mrs. Lion said she liked it. I was fine with it, too. We repeated that for the next two or three times we met. She didn’t have an orgasm any of those times. Obviously, she was happy with what we did.  We branched out to more conventional sex and orgasms were had by all.

We met at least twice a week. At one point, she started coming to my house and we would spend a llot of non-sex time together. She had to leave each night to go to work. We never discussed it, but each of us was finding it harder and harder to say goodbye. We ended up living together. A year or two later (I’m horrible with dates), I asked her to marry me. It wasn’t because either of us felt a strong need to marry. Nothing was going to get between us. We both knew that. I felt that if we legally tied the knot, it would be easier to handle illness and legal matters. So, nineteen years ago we got married in a tiny village hall.

I am positive I did the right thing by making sure we met in person very soon after we started exchanging messages. Maybe it wouldn’t have made any difference if we corresponded for a long time. I suspect it wou ld have hurt if we did. There’s no doubt that we are perfect for each other. We are very happy campers over 20  years after I found her picture online.