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A camping-out chaos from our recent move has replaced our routines. Mrs. Lion has been fighting a virus that has made moving difficult. She finally feels better and is back to unpacking. She just came into my office to show me a treasure she unearthed. It’s the very painful bloodwood paddle she enjoys applying to my bottom. She was smiling when she showed it to me. She said that she hasn’t found the strap that holds me down, but is confident it is going to emerge soon.

That strap does a pretty good job of holding me down. After a few minutes, it tends to slip down and needs adjustment and retightening. Being her helpful mate, I found something that might solve that problem, a heavy-duty safety harness that fastens around the waist. It has D-rings on either side. I’ve ordered cinch straps that will allow Mrs. Lion to cinch me down to the spanking bench with no chance of me moving.

She just returned to inform me that she found another box that contained more paddles and the tie-down strap. She said that there is a third box with more spanking implements. Howerver, she is happy with what she’s found. That means I won’t be.

Our move and Mrs. Lion’s treasure hunting have made it very obvious that we both want spanking to continue. In contrast, my pubic hair has been growing for over two months, and Mrs. Lion feels no urgency to set up our waxing equipment. I’m not rushing her to find it; I’m just pointing out that she made spanking a priority. Waxing is arguably less work than spanking, yet Mrs. Lion’s clear choice is the paddle.

She’s admitted that she doesn’t mind spanking me. She isn’t turned on doing it, but doesn’t mind the activity. I think that she may like spanking me. I’m not saying that it’s sexual for her; just that it’s a kind of fun. OK, I want to think that she has a good time doing it. We both know that I need her to spank me regularly. It’s how I’m wired. We also know that the game of catching me breaking a rule and then getting punished is fun for both of us.

Even after all these years, we still haven’t worked out just how often my bottom needs tanning. Calculating this is a little complicated. Maybe we need to consider how often Mrs. Lion needs to spank me. Once we both admit that spanking is more than just punishment and want it, we can approach it more comfortably. I suspect that the outcome will be much more frequent trips to the spanking bench.

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In: Spanking, Uncategorized

I am in our new house today and  Mrs. Lion is in the old one packing boxes. I’m supervising the installation of the new stove and some needed electrical work. I miss her company. We are together almost all of the time. It feels odd being fifty miles away from my lioness.

Have you noticed that the vast majority of blogging about sex, male chastity, and spanking is written by the bottom partner? Mrs. Lion is one of the few tops who write about their experiences. Most toys are bought by bottoms too.

When you think about it, there is some solid logic behind both. Bottoms, like me, crave the special sort of contact that our kinks require. It’s been 33 days since my last spanking. I know; I hate it when I get spanked. But truth be told, I miss it when I’m not. Even weirder, I miss spanking more than sex. Go figure!

Those of us who are wired to need spanking seem to get grumpy and depressed when unswatted. One of the most in-demand sex work activities is bare-bottom spanking. Paddles, straps, and canes are far and away the most popular toys. in fact, not only BDSM or domestic discipline types buy paddles. One maker told me that most of his business was at swinger events/ Spanking is almost vanilla sex.

Over the years, I’ve read lots of rationalizations for this nearly universal kink. I suspect there isn’t any good explanation of why so many of us need our butts burned. I think it is probably physiological. There are lots of nerve endings in the tush. That’s why spankings hurt so much. Those nerve endings also deliver pleasure too. There is a very small gap between pleasure and pain.

Yeah, I need to be swatted. All of the paddles are packed away for the move. The earliest they can see the light of day is this weekend. Somehow, I’ll survive.

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We have our car. Finally. In case you haven’t followed this particular saga, here’s a quick recap: A couple of weeks ago, Mrs. Lion wanted to run an errand. When she tried to unlock the car, nothing happened. The care is a 2023 Hyundai Tucson plug-in hybrid. It’s all electronic. The car was completely dead. No big deal, right? Well, it is. The parking brake and gear shift are electronic. No power and all of the wheels are locked. We called Hyundai Road Service, and they sent a flatbed.

The flatbed driver couldn’t get the car on his truck because the car’s wheels were locked. Duh! They sent a different truck to put a dolly under the front wheels and lift the back. The driver couldn’t figure out how to do it. Hyundai kept us waiting over 24 more hours until they said it was our problem and WE had to find a tow. It took me five minutes to do that. We had to call several dealers before we could find one willing to take the car.

This is where things got interesting. It turns out that someone published a trick on how to steal Hyundais and Kias that use ignition keys. As a result, all of the area dealers have full service parking lots of cars with broken ignition locks. I had to growl at the dealer who sold us our car to get him to agree to take it. More growling got me to the front of the repair line.

OK, that’s the story. We got the car back last Friday. It turned out that the 12-volt battery was a brick. Our car doesn’t have a conventional lead-acid battery. It uses a Lithium battery for 12 volts. That battery shut itself down. When the dealer replaced it, the car came back to life.

Happy ending, right?

Nope.

Hyundai brags about its wonderful warranty. We bought their extended warranty which is supposed to give us ten blissful years. We are only in year one. The car has 2500 miles on it. We also have their Blue Link service, which includes roadside service. Hyundai is supposed to tow the car and then pay for a rental replacement during repairs. They are also supposed to pay for Uber rides to the car rental place and from the car rental place to the dealer to pick up the repaired car.

Hyundai agreed to pay for the tow and the car rental, but insisted they would only pay $30 for each Uber ride. Whoa there Nelly! The Uber from our house to the car rental company cost over $40. The ride from the car rental place to the dealer cost $125. “Tough shit,” said Hyundai’s customer service case manager. They would only authorize $30 a trip.

Nuh Uh!

After all of this shit, I wasn’t going to let that bunch of Korean robbers fuck me over.  Nope, nope, nope. I went online (Don’t ya just love the Internet) and filed a small claims lawsuit against them. I tacked on $500 to compensate us for all the trouble and grief they caused.

In case you wondered, any company that does business in your state has to give an address for legal service. If the company won’t tell you what it is (Hyundai did tell me), your state attorney general’s website probably offers a search for that information.

As of now, the car is still working, and we’re waiting for the papers we need to get from the court to send to Hyundai.

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In: Uncategorized, Sex

The Internet has spawned some very odd kinks. One of the strangest (to me) is the “tribute picture.” This is a photo of a print of another photo, usually a naked woman, with fresh ejaculate on it also showing a man’s dripping penis. Yuck! Well, as I understand it, this started as unsolicited, gross spam that men sent to women on various social media. It’s an escalation of the dick-pic.

I figured that getting images like this would be a good reason to stop accepting private messages. I know about this because some men (or their women targets) repost these images on Twitter and other media. To my enormous surprise, I saw this tweet the other day.

She was disappointed that no one had sent her the requested image. I’m pretty sure that masturbating on a picture and then sending an image of the result is definitely an internet phenom. It surprises me that what started as disgusting internet spam is becoming an erotic expression of appreciation.

I think I get it. In one sense, it’s visual garbage. Not many women like looking at spilled semen. But in another way, it’s something of value. Most men have a limited supply of semen. After we pass thirty, our ability to recharge and ejaculate again escalates from minutes to hours. As we age, it grows to days. So, sending visual proof of ejaculation is a way of saying that the woman whose picture received the gift is worth losing the ability to orgasm for a period of time. It also visually proves that her picture turns him on.

There aren’t many ways for an inarticulate man to let a woman know she is arousing if he is restricted to the Internet. The tried-and-true way is to send a picture of his erection, the classic dick-pic. This image isn’t personalized for the recipient. The same image can (and probably is) be sent to many women. The tribute picture is a one-woman-only statement of sexual attraction. It’s personalized and has a real cost to the sender. The fact that the subject matter isn’t particularly pleasing can be overlooked.

I’ve never been tempted to provide “tribute” to anyone online. The idea doesn’t appeal to me. Sure, it shows sexual attraction in an extremely graphic and personal way, but it doesn’t show the feelings that generate the arousal. In the case of the tweet above, is the message being sent that seeing a nice ass makes me hard and want to ejaculate? A puddle of semen on the picture of her butt doesn’t suggest he wants to hold her or give her pleasure. He’s saying, “Just show me  your ass, and I’ll come for you.”

There may be a different kind of currency involved. Maybe the woman wants sexual payment for her taking the trouble to show her body on Twitter. Maybe a couple of semen puddles will make her feel appreciated. I can see that. It’s always nice to be appreciated.