Balls, testicles, hairy bedonkers, nuts, family jewels are just a few names for that fleshy bag that hangs below the penis. I thought that many women don’t like them. I was wrong. In a small survey on Twitter, I asked women for their views on balls. To my surprise, none responded that they didn’t like them.  Twenty percent said they only liked looking, forty percent liked touching, and forty percent enjoyed kissing them.

Mrs. Lion’s favorite view.

I didn’t expect that response. Of course, my sample came from women who follow me. They would be sexually open and biased toward male genitalia. Still, nearly half liked using their mouths there. Nice! I like my balls tickled and kissed. Licking is nice too. I didn’t ask about that. Mrs. Lion says that she is fond of my balls. She certainly enjoys torturing them. She likes to tie and separate them and then jerk me off. My tightly tied balls bounce on every stroke. She also likes covering them with clothespins of various types. Also, my most feared activity is Icy Hot or some other menthol or capsaicin rub applied there. The skin is much more sensitive than on my cock.

Mrs. Lion loves clothespins.

I love it when she tickles my balls. That feels good as foreplay and when she is sucking me. If she is using her hands, a finger (or two, or something larger) up my ass simultaneously is very hot. Mrs. Lion is especially fond of slapping my balls. I hate that. Well, if she uses a light item, like a paint stirrer, it gives me a nice sting. If she uses her hand, I get a nasty ache in my balls each time she swats. She claims that I need more “practice” to toughen me up. So far, she hasn’t followed up.

I think my balls are more attractive without hair. I think pubic hair, in general, is unnecessary—just one man’s opinion.

This isn’t our dog, but it’s the same sort of sling I used to cut her nails.

Sunday afternoon: time has, once again, become a factor. There’s a list of activities left. Some are “have-to’s,” and some are “want-to’s.” Not all of them can be completed in the allotted time. My mission, should I choose to accept it, is to prioritize. (Sorry. It was starting to sound like the beginning of “Mission Impossible.”) We made stew yesterday, and that ate up a lot of time. I had planned on spanking Lion sometime in the afternoon. We watched football in the lull of the stew cooking. And there went the afternoon. The only good thing about it is that our team finally won. We won! I’m as shocked as you are.

By the time the stew was all wrapped up, Lion had taken a shower while I made sure the garbage was gathered up and set out. We decided to let the stew sit for a night before eating it since it always seems to taste better the second night. We decided on spaghetti, which was always our Sunday night go-to dinner. I was making a mental note of all the things that still needed to be done. Once I cleaned up from dinner, I headed in for a shower. Lion was snoozing. I’d already decided to spank him on Monday.

As I was showering, I went down the list again. Lion’s spanking would be Monday. The laundry would be Monday. I’d cut the dog’s lethal toenails on Monday. And then I realized I was pushing everything to Monday. There’s no way I could get all that done on Monday after I’d worked all day. I had to prioritize.

I’m sure you think Lion should have been a priority. If nothing else, I should spank him because I’d already pushed that off a night. I did prioritize Lion, just not in the way you’re thinking. The dog’s nails scratch him so badly he bleeds. He’s got bruises and sores from her nails. I have bruises and scratches, but she rarely makes me bleed. I decided the dog’s nails need to be done to avoid more injury to Lion. See? Priorities. Save the Lion.

I got her grooming table set up and muscled the forty-something pound dog into position. She does not like having her nails done. I have to trim the fur between her toes, and then I come after her with the grinder. Oh, it’s so scary for a dog. I made it all the way around with the trimmer and three-quarters of the way around with the grinder, and then she tried to climb on me. I was going to ask Lion for help in the beginning, but I figured he’d been on his feet too long making the stew. Unfortunately, there was nothing I could do. He had to distract her so I could finish that last foot.

I’m not a pro at pawdicures. Some of her toenails are still a little long, but I think I’ve helped Lion avoid some of the scratches. Of course, we both could have avoided some scratches if she hadn’t gone into her psycho dog routine and jumped on the bed three times, getting right between us as we snuggled. She managed to punch me in the head and left a small scratch near my eye. We may have to get her some Xanax so she doesn’t hurt herself or us.

When I finally got back to Lion and sexy time, it was, you guessed it, nine o’clock. He was arousable, but he didn’t get as hard as I hoped. I was thinking he’d need to be much harder if I was going to ride him. I hoped for a bigger erection tonight. However, an orgasm seemed to sneak up on him out of nowhere. At least we think it was an orgasm. As silly as it sounds, neither of us was sure. He produced so little semen it might have been precum. And if he wasn’t sure, how could I be sure? If he gets horny again today, I guess it wasn’t an orgasm. [Lion — It was a ruined orgasm. Mrs. Lion tried to rescue it, but it was too late.]

Today (Sunday) is my 11th day since ejaculation. I’m in the middle of my horniness sweet spot. Over the years of my male chastity, we’ve discovered that my interest in ejaculating varies as time goes by. Predictably, my interest in sex is fairly low during the first four days. I rapidly gain interest from the fourth to the seventh day. At the one-week mark, I’m near my peak. By the tenth day, I am ready to hump trees. This continues until about the fourteenth day, when it begins to fall off. After the seventeenth day, it’s difficult to edge me. I’m sexually unpredictable.

When my level is between three and five, I may be edged and brought to orgasm. It may take a lot of time and effort to get me there. Probably, I will “stall” and be unable to get close. I don’t understand this, but it appears to be a consistent pattern. I have an orgasmic sweet spot.

Interestingly, many women who write about controlling their partners’ orgasms end up saying that the optimum time between ejaculations is seven to ten days. They don’t tell why. Maybe that is the female sweet spot as well.

My average is getting closer to fifteen days. I have no idea why, but I ejaculate only twice a month. This average is close enough to my sweet spot to permit Mrs. Lion the ability to produce ejaculation without too much fuss and bother. These statistics are based on a single sexual session a day. Mrs. Lion has yet to attempt arousing me several times before the session. [Mrs. Lion — I do arouse him when I wax him and then we usually play later on.] I wonder if that wouldn’t extend the sweet spot and push my level of arousal past its current peak.

Sometimes during my particularly horny period, I will tease myself until I am hard and excited. On days I do that, our sex session is generally easier for Mrs. Lion. I remember my earlier arousal, and it fuels the serious sexual session. I asked Mrs. Lion to try this with me. If she decides to give it a shot, we can see if it changes my chart.

The chart is based on when Mrs. Lion can edge or get me off in a session. Levels zero through three represent sessions where I get hard but don’t get close to the edge. When I hit level six and above, I can be edged and made to ejaculate. It happens in less time and more intensely for me at levels eight and above. While this is a reliable guide, there are times when I should be at the height of horniness when I can’t reach the edge.

I’m convinced that “preloading” sessions will make me much more reliable. Simply getting me hard a couple of times in advance of our session may add to my reliability and pleasure. Even if it doesn’t, I think it could become big fun for both of us.

Friday night was fun for me. Mrs. Lion actively teased me and orally edged me twice. I’m at that stage (7 to 14 days) when edging is fairly easy. She was happy to learn that I still had two sore spots on my bottom from Wednesday night’s spanking. Sex and spanking have a lot in common. Both require good techniques to be effective. Most people don’t take the time or trouble to master either.

The most difficult thing is being able to read your partner. Sex is more than simply stimulating a penis or clitoris. At different stages in the arousal cycle, different levels of stimulation will produce the best results. That’s why one-night stands rarely result in good sex. It takes time and some trial and error to learn what works and doesn’t work. Becoming an expert with a partner can take years.

The same is true of spanking. Waling away with a paddle will almost never produce the optimum result. Wait a minute! Is there a goal in spanking? Obviously, in sex, the goal is producing the desired level of arousal. What are we trying to achieve with a spanking?

This is an uncomfortable topic to consider. A spanking is administered to punish someone. It is meant to provide an experience far worse than the behavior that would prevent it. Since spankings are almost always administered with the recipient unrestrained, it has to progress so that it doesn’t compel the person being spanked to run away. That means the sequence of swats has to be controlled and built up slowly enough to help the spankee stay in position.

However, it has to proceed to harder swats quickly enough to prevent his bottom from getting “used” to the swats. It’s a delicate process and requires the ability to “read” the spankee. Mrs. Lion and I have learned that this buildup is important, and enough time has to be allowed for her to make me thoroughly sorry I earned my spanking. The more pain she can inflict to my bottom, the more likely I will work hard to avoid another visit with her paddles.

It took a long time for Mrs. Lion to work out how to do this. She’s still fine-tuning my experience. For example, during my spanking on Wednesday, she rubbed the rough side of a paddle on my bottom. She thought it would feel rough and hurt. It didn’t. It actually felt good. My skin had developed enough natural anesthesia to make me immune to that sort of stimulation. Had she applied it in areas that were unspanked, my experience would have been different.

She also hit considerably harder than usual. I hated that. It made me seriously think about safewording. It would have been wrong if I did. I wasn’t in danger. I was just very unhappy with how much it hurt when she hit me. I didn’t cry, and I recovered quickly when she was done. On reflection, I realized that she had improved her style. Some of our readers like to think this is cruel. It isn’t. It’s exactly what I want. It’s also exactly what Mrs. Lion has been working to achieve.

The consummate accolade for sexual skill is a gigantic orgasm. I suppose the spanking equivalent is tears. I’ve never cried during a spanking. I probably never will. Who knows? Maybe at some point, I will. If I do, it will be a credit to a consummate spanker.