Male Chastity Journal

When I was a little kid and I didn’t finish my supper, my mother would tell me that there were poor children in Europe who would be very happy to eat the food I left on my plate. I was a bit of a wiseguy and my usual reply was why don’t we mail these leftovers to them? That invariably earned me a dirty look.

I think parents everywhere use comparisons like this to inspire gratitude in their kids. I’ve been very lucky from the first day of my life. I had two parents, plenty of food, good schools, and everything else a kid could ever want.  You may be wondering what this all has to do with with male chastity or domestic discipline. The answer is simple: absolutely nothing.

Lately I’ve been wallowing in worry in anticipation of my upcoming surgery. I’ve had a chance to think about it during this business trip. I realized that absolutely everything about my life, save the rotator cuff injury, is exactly what I’ve always wanted. How many people can say that?

I have a wife who is willing to try anything I suggest. She loves me enough  to put my happiness before her own. She’s the best thing that has ever happened to me. As they say on TV, that’s not all. I’ve got the job I always dreamed of. I am a very happy lion.

That doesn’t mean that things are always easy or straightforward. We’ve both had to endure hardships of various sorts and every one we’ve conquered has brought us closer together. I admit that I am a glass-half-full kind of guy. Mrs. Lion is a bit more pessimistic. We balance each other nicely.

I’m not trying to jinx things by bragging about our perfect life. If you are in so inclined, I’m sure you could find many reasons why things are quite miserable for us. I’m convinced that a positive point of view creates positive changes. A negative point of view, pretty well assures  success will be hard to find.

I believe that what success we have at male chastity and domestic discipline is the direct result of our mutual commitment to make anything we start work. Mrs. Lion, when I come up with a new idea, will generally agree to follow it until I get tired of it or we both decide doesn’t work. Of course, if it does work we are both happy. The point is that she’s willing to go along until either I realize I made a mistake.

In the case of chastity, and even more so, domestic discipline, she was sure she would never like either. But, she was determined to continue as long as I wanted it. Lo and behold, over time, Mrs. Lion not only accepted but actually learned to like both practices. I’m not saying that if I really wanted to stop, she would force me to continue. But I am very sure that if I want to stop it will take more than a simple request for it to happen.

We’ve lived through all sorts of situations – good and bad – to prove that both male chastity and domestic discipline work for us. In our case that cliché, “be careful what you wish for…” Is absolutely false. I feel like Charlie from “Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory”. When Willy Wonka asked him,   “Charlie, do you know what happened to the man got everything he ever wanted? He lived happily ever after.” I think I’m Charlie.

I think it’s interesting that Mrs. Lion is focusing on how to maintain some level of our domestic discipline in the face of my recovery. I think she’s on to something. I generally get really grumpy when in pain and impatient with caregivers who I perceive as not paying enough attention to me. Time seems to stretch when I hurt. Waiting just a few minutes for a glass of water feels like an eternity. My mouth feels parched and I’m sure that I will die of thirst if I don’t get that drink soon.

Rationality just goes out the window. Mrs. Lion’s current theory is that she can snap me back into reality with a growl. She proposed a plan to track infractions and good behavior using pennies. It makes sense. I don’t think that I will care one way or another about whether I am gaining pennies or losing them while I’m suffering.

Of course, if Mrs. Lion reminds me of future punishment or reward frequently enough, whether or not I’m into caring about the actual outcome, I’ll probably enjoy the game. The big question is whether  Mrs. Lion will grow weary of both me and the game.

My concern goes well beyond mere pennies. I worry that my lioness will exhaust any emotional capital I have with her and will just avoid me. After all, she’s human and has a finite amount of patience.

You see, I worry about both of us. Do I really have the strength to suffer through the difficult healing and physical training that follows this sort of surgery? What will happen if I do run out of patience? Will I try to disappear in a drug-induced haze? Or will I lose control of my emotions and lash out at the one person in the world I can trust with my life?

I’m starting to think that the key to my survival centers around distraction. It’s hard to be in a lot of pain when something is fully occupying your mind. Boredom is probably a greater risk than physical discomfort. I can only take so much of daytime television. Even though there are a million episodes of “Law and Order”, I grow very weary of watching  for hours at a time.

I realize that I have an amazing array of choices when it comes to movies, books, or magazines. Between my iPad and Netflix, there’s no end of available content. The problem isn’t content. It’s just how long I can stand not doing anything other than watch TV or read. Hell, I’m getting bored listening to myself whine about this.

What’s a lion to do? That’s a serious question. It’s the whole point of this post.  I’m not going to become a drug addict as a way of escaping. It wouldn’t work anyway unless it put me to sleep for two or three months.

I just can’t come up with a good reason to go through with the surgery. Yes, I really need this operation; but I wonder about my ability to emerge whole after recovery. There are just too many ways I can get lost in the months that it will take me to recover enough  mobility to lead some semblance of my old life.

Yes, I’m whining. My doctor said I could. The thing is, my problem is not the fear of the unknown. It’s the sure knowledge that the painful period of loss of functionality will push me to the very edge of my ability to endure. I think I have a lot to consider before that preoperative visit to the surgeon next week.