Way Off Topic
When we started this blog I saw it as a daily journal of my experiences with male chastity. At the time, I wasn’t sure what I could write seven days a week about locking up my penis. Somehow, stuff came up. Over the last month or so we have both been distracted by non-sexual issues. If you’ve been reading along, it started with my kidney stones and segued into a rotator cuff crisis.
In fairness, I injured my shoulder about seven months ago, so I can’t claim it is a sudden crisis. But it came to a head a few weeks ago when I discovered I can’t get any more steroid shots to reduce the pain. For me, at least, pain has dulled my focus on our power exchange. I’m not locked in my chastity device, but all my rules are in effect and I am expected to be obedient. In fact, I was spanked on Monday.
We face a choice at this point. Many bloggers choose to stop posting when there is no news in their chosen kink. I considered that idea for myself. I will have to stop writing for a while after my surgery. Yes, for now at least, I have decided to go through with it. I can’t live with this pain indefinitely. I just won’t be able to type for a couple of weeks.
I’ve decided that I will continue my side of this journal even when the subject matter isn’t directly related to male chastity or domestic discipline. Maybe it is my ego speaking, but I think there is value in sharing our lives even when the subject matter has taken a different path.
The blog is unlikely to be jerk-off fodder. We aren’t interested in writing porn, even if it is a true picture of our activity. So, the wankers have found other resources. I think the value in sharing the current situation is that we are revealing how we handle adversity. And how it affects our kinks.
I don’t have a single doubt that Mrs. Lion will do anything she can to help me; even if I start growling out of pain and frustration. 2.0 isn’t going to beat me or even yell at me if that happens. I know she thought she might, but I don’t believe it. She knows that it isn’t my nature to behave that way. Drugs and pain can change me for a little while.
But I believe that our domestic discipline relationship will shorten any outbursts drastically. The reason is that I have learned to accept corrections from Mrs. Lion. If she tells me that she has heard enough growling or whining, I will listen. She may not punish me at the time, but I will get the message.
One of the main reasons I have been resisting getting my shoulder fixed is that I know I will be frustrated by my helplessness. I can accept it for a while. But, rotator cuff surgery has a recovery period that stretches into months. That is a very long time to expect me to gracefully accept being helpless.
The main reason I have decided to have the surgery is my absolute confidence that Mrs. Lion will take care of me. It won’t make me hate such a long recuperation any less. But I feel safe. I know I will be safe. My sweetie will make sure of that.
The reason I decided to keep writing, even if not about our kinks, is that some of our regular readers care about us. Maybe in some ways we are a role model for others who do what we practice. At the very least, Mrs. Lion and I will have a complete record of this time in our lives.
Ding!
Although I am supposed to be the decision maker in the family, there are some decisions that are not mine to make. Sure I can tell Lion he can only wear red underwear, but if I say he needs to wear black jeans from now on, he’d likely draw the line. I don’t think he’s a black jeans kind of guy. Besides, that’s a very overt look. No one knows his underwear are red.
We do not have an authoritarian household. We share almost everything. Yes, there are chores that I normally do. Same with Lion. There’s no reason I can’t clean the toilets. There’s no reason Lion can’t do laundry. It just tends to work out that we stay in our own lanes most of the time. I can ask Lion to do the laundry. I guess I can even tell him to do it. If I can’t do something, for whatever reason, Lion can pick up the slack. When he had his kidney stones, we ignored the garbage for a few weeks because normally two of us load the cans in the truck to take them down the driveway. Technically, I can load the cans myself as long as they aren’t super heavy. Or I can walk them down the long driveway. The only reason we ignored them is that it was really rainy and dark when I would have had to drag them out. We decided they could wait.
Lion is worried about his surgery. Yesterday, he flip-flopped quite a few times between having the surgery and not having it. He’s like a ping pong game right now. I understand. He’s scared of the pain. He’s scared of the lengthy recovery time. He’s scared he’ll lose me because I won’t want to deal with a cranky, demanding Lion or because I’ll resent him for not being able to help around the house. He’s scared he’ll be useless. I can’t reassure him enough. I know he’d help me if I couldn’t do things. I know he wouldn’t leave me because I was being a lump and leaving all the work for him. It’s not like he’s just being lazy. There’s a reason he won’t be able to help after surgery. He literally will not be allowed to lift anything heavier than a cup of coffee.
Basically, at this point we’re just trying to get our ducks in a row. I even suggested we dig out our walkie talkies so he could get in touch with me no matter where I am in the house. If he needs water, or help to the bathroom, or anything, I’m just the press of a button away. He joked about getting a bell so he could ring for service. Ding! I’m here to help.
Preemptive Strike
I know, I know. I should be writing about male chastity or domestic discipline. Spoiler alert: This is about neither. Many of our readers strongly advocate that I get the rotator cuff surgery. Not surprisingly, the online ortho sites agree. I tend to research the hell out of anything new I am considering. It’s my nature. By the time I make a decision, I want to be an expert. In this case, my concern isn’t so much about the surgery. It’s about how I will manage the long recovery.
My first step was to find out how my employer can support me. I’m very lucky that I can take fully paid medical leave for as long as I will need. In this case, about two weeks. I can also work from home much of the time. After the two week initial recovery, I will want to go to the office at least a few days a week. It turns out that my employer will pay for transportation too while I can’t drive.
For some time after the surgery, Mrs. Lion agreed to stay home and care for me. I expect it will be more than a week, but not more than two. Who knows? Everything I read about recovery is clear that a care giver is required. I won’t be able to dress myself until the sling is off. That can be as much as three months.
If I want to go to work, I will need a way to handle mundane stuff like peeing. Based on my research, I will need elastic-waist pants to do that. Yuck. Oh well. I ordered a test pair from Lands End. A disabled lion can’t be very picky about clothing choices. Mrs. Lion will have to get me into socks and shoes. That’s not a one-handed project. I have mostly button shirts and they are the kind suggested for disabled lions.
The surgeon says that when I am at my desk, I can remove the sling and use the computer keyboard. That’s a relief. There will be a lot of pain. That means narcotic drugs, which in turn causes constipation. The surgeon giveth and he taketh away. I may disappear from the Journal for a while after the surgery (if I decide to get it). At least initially my communication will be largely gibberish.
What blows me away is that this is outpatient surgery. I go in and get out the same day. This is actually good news. I don’t need any of those deadly hospital diseases. It also feels very strange to choose to be an invalid, at least for a while. Mrs. Lion will have to make significant sacrifices to get me through all this. I don’t think our relationship will be stressed, but our finances and patience will. Mrs. Lion doesn’t get paid if she doesn’t work. After the first few days, when I am not on narcotics twenty-four-hours-a-day, she will probably have to go to work just to keep things running there. I think I will be able to survive four or five hours alone.
I hate this. I’m just not ready to be that helpless. The research I do confirms my worst fears about the pain and long recovery. It also gives me ideas on how to work around some of the hurdles.
ESP
Sometimes things just seem to fall into place. With all the turmoil lately, it’s nice to have something go smoothly. Even though our night was interspersed with surgery talk, Lion managed to have a good night.
I decided to choose my own paddle for Lion’s punishment. He said I picked the meanest one. I think he could have said that about several of them. This one has a long handle with a small circular head. Lots of leverage. It’s actually the cousin of possibly the meanest paddle we have, which is made of bloodwood.
Before I started swatting, I wanted to test a theory I had. It’s been a long time since he’s been swatted, but there’s a spot on his right cheek that tends to bleed even if I don’t hit it directly. I wondered if I put some paper tape on it before I started, if it would keep it from bleeding. The fact that it was even hard to find the spot probably meant it wouldn’t bleed.
I tried the tape anyway. I don’t know if it didn’t bleed because it just wasn’t going to anyway or if I didn’t hit the spot, but the tape might have been a success. I’ll need to keep trying it to see if my theory is really correct.
A while after his punishment, we snuggled. I’m never sure if he’s receptive to attention until I try. I don’t think he is either right now. Once my weenie was at attention, though, I knew we were onto something good. I hadn’t really planned ahead of time, but I wanted to give Lion some oral attention. I can’t remember how I gave him his last orgasm, but a blow job is usually welcome. Now that I know how to edge him orally, he never knows if he’s actually getting an orgasm or not.
Afterwards, he said he was hoping for a blow job. It must have been ESP. He was thinking it and I must have heard him. Or it just could have been that I know he loves blow jobs and I love giving them to him. Whatever the case, he was a happy Lion. He said he wondered if he’d have an orgasm. It’s still within our window of an orgasm a day experiment. Why not? He has two more shots for orgasms. Our experiment ends Wednesday night. Who knows how long he’ll have to wait after that?
