How far do you go? This question comes up any time we have choices. I’ve been facing it when it comes to writing. As you probably know, I have a dirty mind. I like thinking about sex. It turns out I also like writing sex scenes. Visualizing what I’m about to write can give me a boner. Writing it doesn’t. I’m too busy trying to say it in a way that communicates feelings and sensations. My first shot at fiction seemed to be more suited to a male audience. I’m referring to the spanking scenes.

It’s well established that both sexes fantasize about spanking. Ironically, both sexes usually fantasize about being spanked. With that in mind, I had the heroine, Les Peters, make her partner’s fantasy of being spanked come true. I had a lot of fun building the spanking scenes. After reading the book for the tenth time, I realized that I might have made a mistake. Let me explain.

Romance novels are a lot like movies. They don’t have a lot of time to convey deep messages. Almost all successful movies follow formulae. Get a book on screenwriting. It’s fascinating to read about how a film is constructed. The formula is essential. It allows the moviegoer to understand a lot of context without having the film go into details. We may not consciously realize it, but we find comfort in this. TV shows are the same. Have you noticed that most detective shows end with a joke or a lighter moment. “Blue Bloods” is a good example. Next time you watch, check out how the program ends.

Novels are the same. Each genre has its particular form. I’m writing romances of sorts. Because of my particular personality, I’m writing stories with erotic content. Early on, when writing Fan Mail, I got bored with fucking and sucking. I like both a lot and enjoy writing about them. But I am a little kinkier than that. Spanking is a practice I have a lot of experience giving and getting. I like the power dynamic. The original version built what I thought was a plausible path from naive and vanilla to kinky spanking. I liked it, and some of our initial readers did too.

I decided that I was breaking the formula. As far as I can tell, spanking in romance novels is limited to the heroine getting her butt reddened. The strong male character either spanks or rescues the maiden in distress from the cruel spanker. Remember, both sexes generally fantasize about being spanked. So, if I want female readers, having the hero get his bottom bruised will probably not play very well.

Indeed, I’m not very successful as a writer. The few reviews I’ve gotten have been from males. They felt the plot supported our hero getting paddled. The women who have commented don’t mention the spanking but think the book is entertaining. I had to decide what direction I wanted to travel. Did I want to play into the F/M niche? How many books could I sell to spanking enthusiasts? Or, did I want to take a shot at mainstream romance novel audiences?

There isn’t a lot of competition in the spanking fiction market, but it is tiny. The broader genre of erotic romance novels has millions of readers. There are also millions of books competing for their attention. I had to decide exactly what message I want to send in this series of books (the second is nearly half done). For better or worse, I decided that I like the sexual tension and the hero’s fear of initiating. I also like that the heroine is open about sex and share’s her lover in very limited ways. This sharing is playing out more in the next adventure.

I don’t want to give away exactly what that means. After all, I am trying to sell books. What I am suggesting is that female power can be expressed in many ways. Also, the male who is experiencing this power can have a very good time. Steve, our hero, certainly is. I’m learning that writing a romance novel requires a lot more thought and planning than I expected. I’m learning a lot. Does anyone know a good book editor who will work cheaply?

Maybe I should only post when I am horny or in trouble. After all, I am a sex blogger who also practices domestic discipline. What do I have to say when I don’t want sex and I’m not getting spanked? Would the blog be more popular if I reduced my output this way?

That’s a serious question. My life isn’t all that interesting right now. A couple of years ago I learned I had cervical spinal stenosis. Disks in my neck were constricting my spine. One small “whiplash” incident could make me a quadriplegic. I was rushed into surgery to fix it.

beware of Jean-Christophe A. Leveque, MD

The surgeon refused to tell us about the recovery from this operation. Because opening up the spinal canal would allow a sudden flow of spinal fluid, my spinal cord would be shocked, much the way it feels when a clothespin is removed from a sensitive spot. It hurts more coming off than it does going on.

This sudden flow created problems for me. My balance was impaired. Right after the surgery, I could hardly move. I couldn’t even pee. I needed a catheter. I could only stand with help. It took a long time for me to learn to get around with a walker. Mrs. Lion and I had no idea this would happen.

The surgeon is a lying bastard. Despite direct questions from both of us, he covered up the seriousness of the surgery. He works at Virginia Mason Hospital in Seattle. His last name is Leveque (Go ahead and try to sue me, you fuck!) If you are referred to him, run like a thief.

Now, two years later, I’m still impaired. Walking can be difficult for me. My balance is better, but not perfect. Literally, at the same time, I developed Glaucoma. Before it was under control I lost most of my peripheral vision. I haven’t tried driving since this happened.

None of this is intended to garner your sympathy. I have no need for that. It’s just to let you know that my ability to experience the world has constricted substantially. Fortunately, most of me works quite well.

Mrs. Lion and I have adapted and our male chastity and domestic discipline have continued unabated. We share our adventures with you. Every single sexual experience since February 2014 has been faithfully reported here. A sex researcher could have a field day with our blog.

Four sexless days

Yesterday is the fourth day since my last orgasm. Even though Mrs. Lion asks me if I am “interested in anything” every day, I have politely demurred. This isn’t deprivation, just lack of interest. I’ve been following my rules and doing my chores, so no spankings either.

Even if I made a slip, I’m not sure Mrs. Lion would punish me. My mood is too dark. I rarely remember my dreams. In the last few days, I’ve had a couple that I haven’t forgotten. Both had me doing “normal” things.

In one, I was driving through the countryside on a two-lane road. My vision was perfect and I loved driving. In my dream, I was surprised that I wasn’t on a road-racing track. I loved my times on the track. The other had me walking with Mrs. Lion through the geyser fields at Yellowstone National Park. We had done that about a decade ago.

Both dreams were rated “G”. I think they underline the contrast between my life just a couple of years ago and now. No wonder I’m sad. I decided to share this because it might give you some perspective on why, after nearly 5,000 posts, I’m having second thoughts. I know my interest in sex will return. My vision won’t.

Once I’m horny again, I will probably try to push aside the sadness in favor of our tried-and-true fun. It gets harder to push aside. Maybe I shouldn’t write until I succeed.

This is the famous Woody Allen sandwich from the now-defunct Carnegie Deli in New York.

We ate the last of my birthday present corned beef and pastrami for lunch yesterday. Mrs. Lion sent all the way to Katz’s Delicatessen in New York for authentic deli food. It was wonderful. We both had “Woody Allen” sandwiches. In New York, delis like to name sandwiches after celebrities. The Carnegie Deli created the “Woody Allen”. This sandwich is half corned beef and half pastrami on rye bread. Nothing else. I always added deli mustard. That’s all.

The Carnegie sandwich had at least 1/2 lb of each meat on this $30 monster. I would eat half for dinner and take the other half home for lunch the next day. Our sandwiches yesterday were a bit more modest: only 1/4 lb of each meat per sandwich. So, we ate the entire sandwich at one sitting. Yum!

I’m a native New Yorker. I’ve been an expatriate living near Seattle for over a decade. Time doesn’t seem to lessen my nostalgia. When I’m asked where I’m from, I always answer, “New York.” This is often met with confusion when a local person wants my address. I’m not from here; I am here.

I’m sure you know I had a great orgasm on Sunday. I’m still basking in its glow and not feeling particularly horny yet. Mrs. Lion plans to take care of that. She’s a regular Mrs. Fixit.

I don’t think either of us is feeling particularly energetic. That can be why we haven’t used the Box O’Fun. We discussed it, but it just hasn’t managed to manifest itself yet. Perhaps when I get a few more days further from my last orgasm, at least my interest will grow. For now I guess we will keep things low key.

I have a conundrum. Whenever there’s a new idea, I have difficulty trying to implement it. It seems worse this time around with punishing Lion for things that annoy me. So what’s my problem?

Oddly enough, I’m finding punishing him for annoying me to be, well, annoying. Just last night, Lion asked if I could turn the fan off right after I sat down. Couldn’t he have thought of it ten seconds earlier? It was then that it hit me; if I had to swat him for that I’d be twice as annoyed.

I know what you’re thinking. If he annoys me and I spank him, eventually he won’t annoy me anymore. Well, maybe not anymore, but it should drop off considerably as he gets punished. He’ll work hard to avoid the paddle. Maybe I’ve got COVID brain but I don’t want to expend the energy to punish him. (By COVID brain I mean there’s so much to worry about with the virus, that I just don’t care about other things. I’ll snap out of it at some point.) Right now, everything is a huge production. Once I get myself ready to cook dinner, I’m fine but to psych myself up to do it takes a lot of effort.

Clearly this is my problem. I just need to suck it up. Ironically, I told someone at work they needed to suck it up for some issue. I guess it’s a taste of my own medicine. Maybe it’s better if I let a few transgressions build up before I whomp him. I keep making it sound like he annoys me a lot. He doesn’t. And some of the annoyances, I’m sure, are just annoyances because of all the nonsense going on with the virus and people not wearing masks or doing things they shouldn’t be doing in the middle of a pandemic. Really, how much of a problem is it to get back up to turn the fan on or off? Suck it up!