One of the main turn-ons for a bottom is to feel possessed by the top. In BDSM, it’s obvious to see signs of possession. The bottom may wear a collar or a male chastity device. The keyholder is the owner of the property, safely locked away. There is a difference between possession and control. Mrs. Lion controls my sexual pleasure. She decides what stimulation I will receive and when I get to ejaculate. She is in charge of my behavior and punishes me when she feels I need correction. Isn’t this possession?

She may think it is. I’m not convinced. I can be arrested and punished for breaking the law. Does that mean the government owns me? It doesn’t, of course. I’m subject to laws, and the government exercises authority over me by defining prohibited behavior. Possession isn’t the same. I think this is why so many bottoms want more than rules.

Male chastity and domestic discipline are lifestyle activities that can be practiced as BDSM scenes. People like us, who do it 24/7, don’t see it as BDSM. Mrs. Lion’s authority is constant. That means it is part of my life, not something special that happens once in a while. We get satisfaction and value out of our sexual and disciplinary framework.

One reason wearing a male chastity device is important to many men is that it provides a constant reminder of their submission to their keyholders. The women rarely consider locking their partners in a device as a sign of possession. For most, it’s part of a sexual game their husbands enjoy. Many of the men get a much more profound sense of belonging from wearing one.

Note that besides spanking him, she uses her finger in his anus. A sure sign of possession.

I’m not claiming that I don’t feel Mrs. Lion’s ownership. Every time she has me on the spanking bench, it’s obvious I belong to her. When she penetrates me anally, I feel possessed. The other day I published a picture with a post that shows a woman about to spank a man. The image is on the right. Notice that one finger is between his cheeks—that small move signals ownership. Certainly, the spanking to follow reflects her authority, but the finger on or in his anus is an act of possession.

We are all different. Mrs. Lion and I like belonging to one another. We haven’t discussed symbols of possession. I consider my wedding ring a strong symbol of my lifetime connection to her. I liked wearing a chastity device because it was a very obvious expression of her ownership. I wore a locking cock ring (right) that wasn’t as restrictive as the male chastity device but still sent me the message of possession. Do I miss wearing it? I guess I do.

Even though I can get hard wearing it, the locking cock ring is a powerful symbol of possession.

Originally, it was for sexual control and training. It became a kind of wedding ring that meant ownership in addition to connection. After the arousal of having something locked on my penis wore off, I came to realize that it also showed my submission to my lioness. I also feel possessed when she reaches behind me and puts a finger on or in my anus. There is a big connection between intimacy and possession.

Maybe assertion of possession is a big reason for “just because” spankings. They send both of us the unmistakable message of who I belong to. I wonder if the sight of my penis locked in a cock ring or chastity device sends a message to Mrs. Lion. I’m pretty sure a spanking does. It doesn’t have to be obvious. It could be a little smile prompted by that device on my pleasure center that only she can unlock. It has nothing to do with my ability to get off. It’s simply a mark of possession. The same is true of my red bottom after she spanks me. I’m hers and only hers.

This blog is our journal. A journal is a regular accounting of thoughts and actions. This journal tells the story of our rather kinky sex life. It also gives us, me mostly, a chance to share what we have learned. It’s not an attempt at a balanced reporting of anything. We also stray off topic when the mood strikes. It’s unfair to judge us or our relationship based on any single post. Some readers tend to do this.

Anyway, The Journal is also a valuable communication link between Mrs. Lion and me. Sometimes the result is a debate that continues in conversations and emails. Other times we respond to one another in posts. In case you wonder why we would use a public forum to discuss personal matters is because it provides an easy-to-reference and permanent place for our discussion. It also may help others with similar issues. Our most recent case in point started with my post yesterday (“Couple Therapy“).

I talked about my difficulty believing that Mrs. Lion has fun with what we do. She sent me an email response that she has written that she likes when my balls hang low, and she enjoys seeing them bounce when she ties them and then jerks me off. She has mentioned this. What she said didn’t quite get to the point I was trying to make. For example, if she says (out loud) that she wants me to bend over so she can see my balls, that would send the message that she has fun with that.

It’s like the two voices you can use in writing. The active voice puts you right in the action. “Sarah grabbed Harry’s balls,” is active voice. “Sarah was happy when she played with Harry’s balls,” is passive voice. Passive voice removes you from what is happening. The same is true with expressions of pleasure. I’ve always believed that telling someone to do something is a very strong way to express that you like it when they do that thing.

When it comes to communicating pleasure, words are sometimes stronger than actions. “I can’t wait to suck your cock,” sends the unmistakable message that delivering oral sex is fun. “Get across the bed so I can suck you” isn’t quite the same thing. The instruction can be interpreted as a request to do something fun or getting a chore out of the way.

I think that Mrs. Lion believes that she doesn’t have to tell me that she likes something. She assumes that I will know she does because she takes action. Words, for me at least, count almost as much as the actions they reference. I realize it is Mrs. Lion’s style. That doesn’t make it any easier for me.

Another example is when I’ve asked Mrs. Lion to read something I’ve written. When she finishes, she says, “It’s good.” That’s it. I have to probe to get more information. I was looking for a discussion of the characters and how she reacted to what they did. I wanted to know if the story grabbed her. I wanted a book review. “It was good,” feels dismissive to me. Mrs. Lion is a very good writer and reporter. She reads a lot. Like sex, reading my work feels like a chore she does for me. I’m grateful that she does, but I’m not encouraged to ask her again.

From her descriptions of work and the people she interacts with, I know she can be richly descriptive and emotional. The fact that she isn’t with me is very problematic. You know how old people sometimes say that they don’t want to be a burden? I don’t either.

Christmas Eve is here at last. Our turkey breast is defrosting in the fridge. We have the fixings for our Christmas dinner for two. We exchanged gifts earlier. Mrs. Lion got a twelve-inch iPad and I got the smaller one from Santa Lion. We are enjoying our gifts. We upgraded our computers too. Mrs. Lion had been using an old (6 years) HP all-in-one. It was so slow that she could hardly play her SIMS game. She now has a 6-core Dell with lots of memory and a solid-state disk. My computer is the same model but over five years old. I ordered a new one similar to Mrs. Lion’s. My new one will have 8 cores, 32 GB of memory, and a 1TB solid-state disk. If you are technically inclined, all this power is needed to support Photoshop, and get this, MS Word. Word eats up resources with its auto-update feature. While writing, I get frequent stutters. Hopefully, the new box will fix that.

We don’t have a tree. We haven’t had one in years. It seems like too much trouble just for us. One thing we have that has served us very well in the pandemic is our unsociable way of life. We are both very happy with each other’s company and being quarantined is our normal way of life. Tonight, we will snuggle and, if we have any, drink some eggnog. That’s a tradition we have enjoyed since we have been together. We may miss it this year because we don’t go out unless we have to.

The best Christmas gift for me is my life with Mrs. Lion. It seems so improbable that we would have met. We came from different worlds. Thanks to a dating site we connected. I have no idea why she agreed to meet me, but she did. I had absolutely no way of knowing how incredibly well we would fit together. I’ve always been attracted to tomboys. Mrs. Lion is most certainly a tomboy. She played soccer, loves football, and doesn’t mind getting dirty. She’s also developed into a frighteningly good spanker.

We both make sure that the last words we say to each other are “I love you.” It’s a sort of superstition of mine that if I don’t wake up, those will be the last words we share. It may sound sappy, but I go to sleep each night with a smile on my face. I look forward to waking up on Christmas morning next to the most wonderful gift in the world: my sweet lioness.

Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and find it hard to get back to sleep. Those are the times I think about my life. There are so many choices. Each one leads to more. I find myself tracking back, wondering what might have happened if I did something different. Where would I be now?

The most important events in my life seem to be more accidents than decisions. I met Mrs. Lion because I happened to run across an online dating site and I was feeling horny and a bit lonely. I had never seen the site before. It wasn’t particularly slick. I decided to see who might be there. I registered and wrote a minimal profile. That gave me access to search. I don’t remember exactly what I put in, but about 100 profiles appeared.

One profile picture struck me. It was a closeup of a cute, smiling female face. I don’t even think it was in color. Her smile tugged at my heart. Weird. Her profile said she was looking for a hookup, not in those words. Her approximate location seemed fairly close to me. I was surprised at my reaction. I didn’t do anything on the first visit. The next day I decided to try to contact her. This particular site was free to search but charged if you wanted to contact someone. Only the person making the first contact had to pay. I figured, “Fuck it!” and paid for a membership.

I found her picture and sent her a message. I think it was pretty brief; just a “let’s chat” sort of thing. I figured the odds were against her responding. Neither her profile nor her picture revealed anything about how she looked below her head. I wondered if that was intentional. I decided that I didn’t care.

Also going through my head at the time was whether I wanted to be sure she was kinky and liked to play. Until that moment, my connections had been through our local BDSM organization. Kinky was assumed. I was at the end of a tumultuous decade-long master/slave relationship — Yes, I was the master — and was tired of drama. I realized that what I wanted was a peaceful, loving relationship. I thought I could live happily without BDSM. In any case, I decided that it wasn’t high on my wish list.

I figured that some hot sex without strings or drama would be very good. I hoped this smiling, mystery woman would write back. Talk about random! Most of the time women on these dating sites don’t respond. Apparently, there are a thousand male members for every female. It seemed to me that a cute woman wanting sex would be inundated with contacts. Still, I hoped she would contact me.

She did. We exchanged some messages. It felt good to me and apparently to her too. It turned out that she lived about  90 minutes from my house. I was concerned that if we did too much email before meeting, we might create expectations impossible to meet. I suggested we meet only a couple of days after our first contact. She agreed! She was also willing to meet for sex. No preliminary coffee meeting in a safe restaurant for us. I did some research and found a Super 8 motel about halfway between our houses. We agreed to meet in the afternoon a day or two later.

I got there first. She had a description of my car. The parking lot was almost empty. I would be easy to spot. Right on time, a minivan pulled up next to my car. It was her. I was very nervous. We got out of our cars at the same time. There was a brief, awkward silence. I broke it by asking her if she wanted me to get a room for us. She said she did. I went to the motel office and got a room for three hours.

She was still standing by her car. I told her the room number and we walked to it silently. Once inside, we shared a little nervous small talk. We kissed and she began taking off her clothes. I did the same. Naked, we hugged and kissed again. She really turned me on. I was hard and she felt it when we hugged.

I don’t remember exactly what happened next. What I do remember is Mrs. Lion kneeling on the edge of the bed, butt in the air. I stood behind her and penetrated her anally. Apparently, we had decided to do this on our first “date”. It felt great! Afterward, we lay together much more comfortable with one another. We talked and snuggled. It was exactly what I hoped for: sexy, peaceful, and warm. After a while, we parted.

We met a couple of times a week after that. I think our second date was also anal. After that, we did more usual things. It was always easy and warm. We just fit. I’d like to say we fell in love at first penetration, but we didn’t. For a while the sex kept us coming back. Love was sneaky. At some point. I can’t pinpoint it, we each realized we wanted to be together. That was it. We never looked back.

Thinking back to this, I realize how unlikely our connection was. The odds were against it from the start. Maybe it was a happy accident. I think it is more likely that the universe has a way of helping if you ask. I asked for a peaceful, loving relationship. The universe already knew I was horny and kinky. Mrs. Lion also wanted a sexy, peaceful, loving relationship. She didn’t know about the kinky part. The universe did.