Lion Morning Report
I’m late with my post today. I was too wiped out last night to write one for this morning. We had our pre-op meeting with the surgeon and his staff yesterday.The surgeon was remarkably optimistic about my recovery. He claimed that most, if not all, of the pain would be gone in two weeks. I’ll be in a sling for six weeks. Ok, I can deal with that.
It may be that the nature of my injury has a faster recovery time. It’s a tear in the tendon without any degeneration. Perhaps that heals more quickly. Or, the surgeon is lying to me in order to make me less anxious. I think that’s unlikely since there are legal problems when a doctor lies.
Sex has been on my mind sometimes. I think that a vanilla hand job is not as exciting to my jaded libido. The problem isn’t with Mrs. Lion. It’s mine. I am distracted by the combination of pain, drugs and anxiety about the surgery. It’s no easy task to distract me enough to really enjoy sex. You could argue that maybe it’s not worth the trouble to get me aroused. I won’t disagree with that. However, when I do get sexually distracted, I forget about all the other things weighing on my mind.
This might be a good time for boner pills and light play; well not too light. We’ll have to consider our options.
Last night I woke up at around 2:30AM. Mrs. Lion was up too. I hate keeping her awake, but I loved the chance to hold hands and talk a bit before she fell back to sleep. Mrs. Lion is the ultimate cure for loneliness. It’s so great to have her with me.
We’ll sort out the sex and let you know what we are doing.
Answers
Today is Lion’s pre-op appointment. As you can guess from his post this morning, he’s in panic mode. I’m sure he’s always worrying about the surgery, but he hides it most of the time. Occasionally it comes to the surface as fear and possible depression. Ironically, taking into account my general pessimism, my laid back personality allows me to roll with the punches a bit more. In his professional life, Lion is used to controlling things. He can’t control most aspects of his surgery and recovery.
When my son was training in the army, he sent me a text that said he had just jumped from an airplane for the first time. Crap! The next text I got was a picture of an X-ray showing rods and pins holding an ankle together. Double crap!! Then a text that said it was his friend’s ankle. Whew! You might want to lead with that, rather than send the scary picture first. The point is, he does scary things, and I can worry all the time but I can’t control the outcome. He’s a well-trained soldier who could die at any moment, in combat or even “just” training. But I have to believe he’ll be fine.
So we’ll go to this appointment and ask our questions. We’ll have the horror stories in the back of our minds and listen to what the doctor tells him about recovery. Lion will have a better idea of how the whole process will unfold. I’ll have a better, more authoritative, idea of what to expect. And we’ll walk away still worrying, to some extent.
I do know you heal faster with a positive attitude. I’ll have to keep Lion motivated. Generally, he’s in an upbeat mood. He knows we’ve prepared well. He knows there are things we’ve forgotten. I hope the pre-op appointment will shed some light on things we may not have thought about. The bottom line is, this surgery will not end Lion. He’s stronger than that.
Dependent
It’s Sunday night and I’ve started this post at least five times. Generally, I have no problem finding material to discuss. I attribute this current problem to drugs more than writer’s block. I’ve had to take the “strong stuff” to keep the shoulder pain down. Pain does an amazing job turning a kinky lion into whimpering, vanilla cub.
Actually, we’ve been vanilla for some time. I don’t mean that we aren’t practicing enforced chastity and domestic discipline. We have. I mean we haven’t done any BDSM playing in ages. That isn’t a failing on Mrs. Lion’s part; nor mine. Circumstances have gotten in the way. Even though I know I can’t play because of my shoulder, I miss it. I miss fucking too. I’m about to delete this post attempt too. Maybe not.
I don’t want to make my dear lioness feel badly. Our badly out-of-balance libidos make two-person sex unlikely. Sex is a gift that Mrs. Lion gives me. Her disinterest in sex also makes BDSM activity a gift as well. Are you seeing a theme here? Up until now, only sex has been strictly one way. Soon, my surgery will make me dependent in more fundamental ways as well.
Enforced chastity makes the caged male a sexual dependent of his keyholder. Even without enforced chastity, if I am monogamous, I am sexually dependent on my lioness. In relationships where both partners want sex, the keyholder’s desire for sexual satisfaction makes the power exchange more about sexual control than dependency. The keyholder can get sex from her caged male without offering reciprocation.
I have nothing sexual to give Mrs. Lion. She isn’t interested. Sex for me is an act of charity more than anything else. There isn’t anything in it for her other than giving me pleasure. I can’t provide anything sexual in return.
This all came to mind as the reality of my surgery is sinking in. I tried drying myself after showering using just my left arm. I can’t do it; something that basic. When Mrs. Lion goes back to work, should I trip and fall, I will be as helpless as a turtle on its back.
It’s not about Mrs. Lion’s willingness to take care of me. She will. I know that without a doubt. It’s about the fact that I am always the recipient. I know she loves me and wants to give me sex and take care of me. That’s not the point at all. I am tired of having nothing to offer in return. I can see how disabled people can sometimes become bitter and seem ungrateful. I’m still over a week away from the surgery and the impending impact on my life is forcing me to examine how little I have to give my mate.
I don’t want to be pathetic. I can’t stand that. Maybe this is what it feels like to be depressed. Worse, I think my assessment is accurate. Coping isn’t my strong suit.
Is That a Banana in Your Pocket?
Lion was in considerable pain yesterday. Friday night, he must have twisted wrong and hurt his back. A week ago he hit his elbow hard on a door. And, of course, his shoulder is wounded. Throughout the day he took Tylenol or heroin (as he likes to call his opioid prescription) and it was helping. I thought for sure he’d be in no mood for fun. Wrong. He was horny. Very horny.
The past few times we’ve played, I’ve given him an orgasm after edging him four or five times. I figure I never know when he’s going to be horny because of the pain so I have to strike while the iron is hot. Last night I was planning on edging him and leaving him high and dry. So what if he’s not horny today or tomorrow? There’s always the next day. But I went too far. As I let off the gas he told me he was going to come. I had no choice but to keep stroking him. Well, I could have left him with a ruined orgasm, but we both hate those.
He’s concerned that he didn’t have very much semen. He says after eight days he should have produced more and he thinks he’s a broken Lion. I don’t think so. There could be any number of reasons for it. Maybe he didn’t drink enough. Maybe I didn’t get him excited enough. Maybe the drugs played a role. It’s not like he never has a lot of semen. He’s always had fluctuations in the amount. I guess for a man whose body seems to be giving out all over, it’s easy to assume he’s broken.
I’m not ready to trade in my old, broken-down Lion on a newer model. I’ll keep repairing this one until I can’t find parts. Luckily, medicine keeps figuring out how to repair Lions.
