I’ve been getting a bunch of comments accusing me of stupidity for letting Lioness 2.0 know about things I am thinking about that could cause me discomfort. While I may not be the brightest Lion in the jungle, I am fully aware of the risks I take by putting potentially painful (to me) thoughts into her head. I make these suggestions because I think they will enhance our adventures in enforced chastity and FLR. Believe it or not, I have good reason to offer up these ideas.

One of the central tenets of any power exchange is that it is consensual. Mrs. Lion has  my full, informed consent to do anything she wishes to me or make me do anything she wants. She has this blanket consent because I absolutely trust her. That’s both good news and bad news. The good news is that she is never going to do anything that will really harm me physically or emotionally. The bad news is that she is so concerned that I am having a good time and I am happy that she won’t do anything or make me do anything that she believes I don’t want. Since one of my key kinks is to be made to experience things I don’t want, there is a conflict.

Obviously, there are things she could do that I would not only hate, but would also push me too far and cause me real upset. She has never been willing to get near causing that. She loves me and it’s her love that motivates her actions. Combine that concern with a general lack of enthusiasm for torturing me and you get Lioness 1.0. 2.0, on the other hand, has shown considerably more interest in finding ways to push me. I love that.

Even 2.0 worries a bit more than I wish about my comfort zone. In some areas 2.0 has shown a delightful lack of concern for whether I like something or not. She has shown signs of that in recent spankings. She hits harder and a bit longer than before. She appears to be less concerned that I don’t like what she is doing.  At the time I hate it and want it to stop, but I am very happy she is starting to push me.

Last weekend’s anal/pegging was a great start. I don’t like how it feels, but I do like that I can’t stop it and that she is going to keep working on it until I can be made to sit on the fucking machine for longer and longer times. Of course, right now I can’t even take the entire dildo in when she is carefully working it with her hands. But if she persists, I will learn; like it or not.

These two examples illustrate the point I want to make: What I want, maybe really need, is to be taken out of my comfort zone and trained to accept things I will hate at first. Why? It’s my kink, I guess.

This feels a bit bipolar to me. How can I do anything I can to stop a spanking, yet a day later beg her to push me further and be stricter? How can I truly hate menthol rub on my balls, yet ask her here in the blog to keep doing it? I want her to train me to do things, even humiliating things, on command yet hate it when it is happening.

I’ve given this a lot of thought. It’s not so much that I am a masochist who wants to suffer. I don’t get aroused by the pain at all. I think it has much more to do with control and how training me and controlling me is somehow interpreted by me to mean that I am loved. Whatever the reason, I am a happier person with 2.0 than I was with 1.0. I might be wrong but 2.0 seems happier too.

woman signalling up
Up boy! Good boy!

On Monday night when Mrs. Lion unlocked me for my scheduled orgasm,  she sat next to me and then wiggling her finger said while moving the finger up and down in front of my penis,

“Come on boy, up, up!’

She used the cheerful sing-song voice one uses to encourage a dog to do a trick. [Mrs. Lion – I also snapped my fingers and whistled at him.] Immediately after she said it, she told me she was just kidding. That’s too bad. I really liked it. I told her that she could train me to do that trick. She ignored my comment. I think she might have been a little embarrassed to give me a doggy command. I loved it! I have a longstanding fantasy about being trained that way; not only to get hard on command, but to do other things as well. I loved her “training voice”.

It took Mrs. Lion a long time to even write, “Good boy!” when I do something correctly. She seems a bit uncomfortable with that. I have no idea why I have this fantasy, but it’s been around for many years. I have no idea why Mrs. Lion decided to do that on Monday, but wow it felt like an electric shock went through me. [Mrs. Lion – I have no idea why I did it either. Just a spur of the moment thing.]

We need a little reality check here. I am pretty sure I can’t really be trained to get hard without physical stimulation. That’s for younger guys. But being “encouraged” that way during stimulation would be amazing. Some swats for not complying fast enough would be fun too. There are other commands that would also be fun; things like fetch, sit, roll over come to mind.

I think there is a reason these things are fun for me. They are a little humiliating — I do like that — and they appeal to my love of bottoming. A submissive guy might like this too, but for a different reason. He might like being able to please his mistress. My motives are murkier and far more sexual.

Lioness 2.0 knows all this on some level. I think it is behind her use of nail polish and diapers. This, of course, has nothing to do with enforced chastity. It’s part of the package that turns me on. Consistent application of “training” is not only highly arousing. Once the novelty wears off it becomes a sort of emotional security blanket that gives me comfort in enforced chastity and surrender in general.

In my case, these expressions of control provide a sense of security and acceptance. They also keep me very involved in my surrender. It’s hard, for example, to forget I am not in charge when I am sitting in a wet diaper or my toenails are painted an ugly color. It’s even more obvious to me when I am performing tricks for my lioness.

It should be noted that I am writing this post only a short time after my orgasm. This is not my need for sex writing. It is coming from a much deeper level. I can trace this need back as far as the early 1980’s. I have no idea why I am wired this way. I just am.