Coming Home To Roost
On Friday night Mrs. Lion announced that since I wasn’t wearing my cage — it’s off until a bruise on my penis heals — I needed something to keep my hands away from my “weenie”. She said I would have to wear diapers yesterday. I hate that. I asked if there was something else I could do? After a moment’s thought she said that I would wear frilly panties. So, first thing yesterday morning, she went to my drawer picked the green pair, I have two, and told me to put them on.
She pointed out that I asked for this. After all, I suggested it in January 2015. I had ordered the two pairs from manties.net and as soon as they arrived and I got a good look at them, I had second thoughts and hid them before Mrs. Lion could see them. But she did as she wrote in a post. She has a good memory and 2.0 mentioned them along with diapers a couple of weeks ago. One of 2.0’s resolutions was to go back through my old posts and list all the “suggestions” I made about things she could do to me. Then, she said, she would do each and every one of them. After all, she said, I asked for them. Right? Yes, I did.
If that’s not bad enough, she also decided that she would do all those things I want so badly (her words, not mine!) her way. So far in these first weeks of 2.0, that has mean she will do them all out; no testing, just go for the gold. So far the “gold” had been my buns and genitals. It’s been less gold and more red.
I’m not complaining. I did, sometimes wishing I could take things back that I requested. The panties are an excellent case in point. Once they arrived and I got a look at them, I realized that wearing them would not be fun and certainly not arousing. So, they went in my drawer with no comment. Now that I’ve had to wear them all day and evening yesterday, I can confirm that I am not turned on wearing them or looking at me in them. Hell no! They aren’t uncomfortable at least. However, when we were shopping in a warehouse store yesterday, I needed to pee and adjust my pants. The men’s room was far from empty. I stood at a urinal and peed. Then I had to adjust my pants which required me to drop them, adjust the panties, then pull them up and buckle. There I was, exposing my lacy butt to the world; at least for a few seconds. That did not please me at all.
In retrospect, should I have gone with the diaper? It’s close, but no. I think I hate sitting in a wet diaper slightly more than running around in panties. At lest the panties are dry and clean. Lioness 2.0 is getting good at making me choose one of two unpleasant options. She also just tells me what to do without offering any choice. The atmosphere here has changed.