Sorry for not having written for a while. There’s been a lot of drama both on my side of the family and Trip’s. Also, work has been crazy busy and Sir M has been taking up a significant chunk of time (happily). I’ve also been traveling quite a bit (both work and pleasure). So, doing my best Canadian imitation, sooory, so sooory.

Speaking of travel, I’m recently back from IML 2022, and had an amazing time, particularly since Sir M decided to come along. We haven’t actually spent a lot of time together, just a few hours here and there, but I got a whole 5 days with him and he certainly made up for lost time. It was really nice to just be somewhere with other leatherfolk, and the social aspect was wonderful. I met several people I have only known on Twitter and made a few new friends. Mostly, it felt like finally coming home after so many years.

Thursday was a travel day, though after we arrived we did have a relatively quiet fuck. His 10 inch+ dick attached to his belt feels so amazing in me. It was gentle yet very filling and I leaked copious amounts, but the big show was yet to come (pun intended).

The two of us, surrounded by a sea of fellow leathermen with sex wafting in the air so much that you could literally smell the testosterone was a highly charged situation. It wasn’t long after we arrived that the collar was locked around my neck and the plug was up my ass. And it wasn’t long until Sir M made good use of said ass. He already owns my cock, and he took ownership of my ass as well. Each night he fucked me, each time more aggressively than the last. In fact, he introduced me as “hole” on more than one occasion.

The night after the contest, we got back to the room and he grabbed me from behind. He needed to take me and he did. He pushed me to the floor and opened the conveniently placed rear zip on my breeches, and fucked me, hard. There was no foreplay, although I suppose the entire weekend could be considered foreplay. We were both in heat and there was nothing gentle about this. He pounded me. He plowed all 10 inches of cock into me over and over, driving me into the floor, my head against the bed and then the wall. He drove so deep he went past my second sphincter. I don’t think I’ve ever been fucked so mercilessly before. It was as close to (consensual) rape as I have ever come, and I’m pretty sure he actually came. He fucked me until he couldn’t physically plow me any longer, at which point he rolled over. I wasn’t done though. I straddled that monster and rode it hard and deep, feeling my second sphincter giving way to it, taking it in as deep as possible, over and over again. My hole was in top form that night and I needed that cock in me. We fucked until exhaustion overcame us. It was amazing. My hole was completely wrecked, which was absolutely what I needed. So wrecked in fact that I was actually walking funny the next day.

He wanted to fuck again the next day during our travels home. I was sorely tempted, but ultimately too sore for it. My hole had been fucked every day for 4 days, and completely destroyed by the finale. It was perfect. I didn’t want to end it with a so-so fuck. He’s promised that I haven’t seen or felt anything yet, and there’s even more in store. I can’t wait, Sir!

Even though it was a few weeks ago, I think I’m still high on the feelings. I’m excited about this journey and looking forward with cage tightening anticipation of what’s still to come (probably not me though). Whatever he has planned, I’m happy to go along for the ride.


Gone But Not Forgotten

As mentioned in my last post, I no longer have a cock. I have an owned appendage encased in titanium that I use to piss with. I’m not allowed to come unless it’s from other areas of my body being stimulated , and always caged. My former cock will never be unlocked, will never be used for anything but urination, and is none of my concern. That is how the owner of it wishes it, and thus, that is how it is, and I couldn’t be happier about it. For me, this is truly a dream come true (not wanting to jinx anything).

Sir M wants me in a belt. I have zero experience in a belt. I have to admit I’ve thought about them. From the first time I saw a Carrara I wanted one. I fear it is impractical for my daily life, unlike the werks, which will always be my home. I even started the order process once but didn’t go through with it. Still, there is the fact that they are more tough, more isolating, more denying than a cage and that is something I truly long for and, ironically, find arousing (as do most chastity subs, I imagine). They are bad ass pieces of utter security. If the owner wants his chastity slave in a belt, it’s going to happen , and he definitely does. It’s not my place to question his desires, just to fulfill them. That will take some significant time, however, so it’s not something that’s happening right away.

As I’ve progressed deeper and farther in this journey, I have wanted the denial to be more strict. It is such a part of me that I don’t think of the contents (to borrow @thumpermn’s description) as anything other than that, and Sir M doesn’t even consider the contents as anything more than a piss tube. I remember my cock, even if I am to no longer consider it as such. We had some good times together, but I have, hopefully, moved past those reptilian brain needs (at least, I am trying to) and I know that the journey I am on is the correct one for me. Still, it’s a struggle some days.

For now, Sir M owns the cage and the contents, but the rest of me is still mine to do with as I please (mostly). That may change at some point, I don’t know. He has some intriguing ideas of where he wants to go, and I am happy to be on the ride. He is lucky in that he can live the lifestyle 24/7. I (as many of us) can’t because of my career. I wish it were otherwise. I admit to being a bit jealous, but I am also grateful to share in a part of it with him. I feel very blessed to have met him and to have been taken by him.

The kink that has been re-awakened in me and the re-connection to the leather/bdsm community is something I have sorely missed. I didn’t realize how much until I became a part of it again. Things somehow just settle when you reach a certain point in life, even unintentionally. I am grateful to him for opening up those avenues again. I should never have let it get so dormant, but I did. I’ve always been somewhat uncomfortable admitting the depth of my desires. Life happens. It’s no one’s fault. Sometimes other things take priority and its easy to let it fall to the background. You have to actively keep it up and encourage it. You need to put yourself out there (which has been very difficult for everyone the last few years). I’m trying. As I sit here writing this, I’m locked (of course), plugged, and booted in my 20 inch Wesco boss boots. It feels right for me. It’s how I should be. It’s how I need to be, and it’s how I’m going to try to be as often as possible. Even with Trip, after a groundswell of activity, we’ve somehow settled back into old patterns. Mostly because he is not naturally dominant and his heart isn’t really in it. He does, however, always have the last word regarding me, and he has an absolute veto over anything involving me and other people. I think he’s happy to not have to deal with those aspects of my needs.

Being locked didn’t make me a sub, but it does absolutely reinforce that mindset. I’ve always had a submissive streak. I’ve noticed the changes over the years since my former Master and Trip locked me permanently. When I watch porn, for example, my impulse is not to stroke the cock I no longer have, but to play with my hole. That’s my pleasure center. It’s my go to when I’m aroused. The cage gets tight, for sure, but that’s not where my mind goes. I still have a Dom streak, but find I only want to dominate other locked men. I have no desire to go back to the Top I once was. Even if I did, I’m not allowed to ever use the contents again for that type of activity (unless Trip ever wants to use it again). I’m still a better sadist than masochist, and I do enjoy inflicting (consensual) pain, but I enjoy it more with fellow locked men, probably because we have a common desire and start from a place of mutual understanding.

I don’t know where exactly this journey is headed, but I do know that I am all in for the ride. If I end up with an awesome experience and a new circle of kink friends, that will be more than enough. If I end up having my cage (or more) permanently owned, that will be a dream come true. Either way, I think I’m incredibly lucky.


Just an Appendage

I was in the middle of writing a post when @thumpermn put up a tweet which, as usual, said what I was trying to say better in a couple of sentences than I was saying in a couple of paragraphs. Damn rabbit. Thumper (being away from Belle) said “I could jack off, but I don’t. I don’t have a penis. I have a device and don’t deserve to act otherwise”, which is very close to what Sir Marc said to me just the other day.

Sir Marc said “The cock attached to your body is only a organ permanently encased in metal used to piss. I never want to see it in it’s flesh form. You have jacked off for the last time. Your cock will never see the inside of a mouth or a butt again. From this day forward your orgasms are prostate-based. Unless I change my mind and that doesn’t seem very likely. You’re a chastity slave”.

He also told me that my former cock was no longer any of my concern. That struck me deep, because it’s true. When your truth is articulated, it’s powerful. When someone acknowledges and validates what you know to be true, it’s both affirming and deeply, existentially impactful.

Prior to Covid, I was in a pretty good place. I was motivated by my Sir, I was working out 3 days a week, had lost several inches on my waist and gained them in my chest, arms, and legs. I was moving forward to how I want to be physically and health wise. I was also moving forward and growing in my submission. Covid was a gut punch. I lost my Sir, I couldn’t go to the gym, I was eating poorly, and I gained weight and lost muscle. I tried to keep up with my workouts at home, but that didn’t last long. In the two years of the pandemic, I had undone the previous several years worth of hard work.

Finally, I got tired of seeing what I looked like in the mirror and feeling like a lump. I found a trainer with a private gym and he has been kicking my ass. I’m proud of myself. I’ve lost 1/2 inch on my gut, and my legs, arms, back, and chest are starting to put some muscle back. I started this before I met Sir Marc, but knowing I have someone owning my device, keeping me focused, and validating my desires has only helped me to work harder. It’s not to please him, although if it does, that’s a bonus, It’s to make me feel good about myself again. Being in a good headspace is definitely helping.

Sir Marc has said a few other things that just make chills run up my spine, but I won’t go into that. Suffice it to say, he certainly seems to have my number. Hopefully, this will continue. I’m very fond of him as a person and I’m extremely happy with how he views being my keyholder. I wish we could spend more time together, but so far, it’s an amazing start to what I hope will be a deeper journey, if he wants to take me there.

I definitely don’t have a penis, I have a metal piss tube. I do get incredibly horny, but I have an appendage for pissing, which doesn’t belong to me. I know, deep in my soul, the truth of those words, and while it’s sometimes a challenge to completely accept it, I have and will live up to his expectations. That part of my life is his to control. He’s not my Master, but he is my keyholder and the owner of whatever you wish to call the titanium tube attached to my balls. Previously, I thought alot about the cock inside the tube. Not that I wanted to use it, but it was a possibility. That made me uncomfortable. The inherent conflict was always on my mind. That has been removed, for which I am grateful.

What I would add to Thumper’s statement is that, yes we don’t deserve to act otherwise, but we do deserve to be locked. It’s a gift to embrace. It’s how we are meant to be, and having that truth acknowledged is everything. We, the locked who can move past the idea that our cocks are there and the temptation to use them, are the few, the proud, the strong subs and those who want us that way are exceptional people. I’m able to take all that sexual energy and redirect it in a positive way to help me achieve my fitness and my life goals. To paraphrase Thumper, that is infinitely better than being horny and not locked up. Fuck, I might even start running again (maybe).


A Funny Thing Happened…

Not that long ago I was rather unceremoniously dumped, via text, by a Dom days before we were going to see each other. It wasn’t the most pleasant thing that has happened, but in a way, it has been one of the best things that has happened to me in a while.

Out of that experience and subsequent blog post, a number of amazing people have come into my life and the kink side of my life has been blossoming in new and unexpected ways. One of the perks of putting your life out there in the blogosphere is that people (a few, at least), actually read it and some even connect with it. Several people, whom I only occasionally chatted with via comments or DM’s reached out with support and care, and we connected on a much deeper level. The group of men and subs in Oregon who kind of “adopted” me are amazing. They really made me feel special again. I’ve made a brother for life with one of them. I’ve also become much closer to a number of locked boys and a few Doms, including Sir Marc, who I had a chance to meet a couple of weeks ago and with whom I clicked. Sir Marc is a locked Dom. I got to spend a couple of hours on a Saturday evening with him and my best (and oldest) kink friend, @jockdgear. Sir Marc and I texted numerous times over the ensuing weeks, and He indicated an interest in becoming my keyholder. He also invited me to a party celebrating Tom of Finland’s birthday this past Sunday.

The party was amazing. It was nice to actually put on gear (at least the gear that still fits around my pandemic paunch) and go out again. I met a number of incredible people and had a lovely time. I really have missed that, more than I thought. When Sir Marc told me he wanted my keys, I agreed. He was rather busy being the charming host, so we didn’t get much time together, unfortunately.

Kicking back at the party

I wasn’t sure exactly how this would all work, but I have to admit, He has taken this to a place I could only dream of. He’s also relatively local, which is a huge plus. Sir Marc let me choose the “dick” he will attach to his belt when he wants to fuck. He also made it very clear that I am to be locked at all times (except for maintenance, medical stuff, etc with permission) and that my last orgasm was actually my last. The irony is that hearing that made my cage incredibly tight and it has been all day. My cock is “no longer my concern” and I couldn’t be happier about it. That’s really the ultimate for a locked man, isn’t it? It’s fantasy made real. I’m so much more aware of my metal cock now than I have been for a while, and that’s all it is, a metal “cock”.

My social calendar is actually (for me) getting relatively full. I’m not a social butterfly. but many of the folks I met are local and we are planning on getting together (for lunch or something…get your minds out of the gutter). I’m reconnecting with the local leather/kink community again. That’s a part of my life I have sorely missed.

I don’t know where this is all heading, but I’m going to enjoy the ride and make the most of the opportunities that have come my way. It really is a brotherhood of sorts among gay kinksters, and I feel blessed at finding a place in it again.


The Switch is Back

While I have been primarily focusing on my submissive side, I have always had a Dominant streak, which I thought was in deep hibernation. I used to describe myself as a Dom with a submissive side, then a switch, and recently primarily a submissive, because that is where my headspace is and needs to be. But an opportunity presented itself last week and, unconsciously and completely spontaneously, Dom Doc came roaring back to life, and it was absolutely enjoyable.

While hanging out with my locked buddies, I was playing with the owned sub’s balls. He was responding with both a mild degree of agony and a significant degree of ecstasy. So I began playing with them harder and harder, eliciting the type of response that Dom Doc loved so much. He was writhing with pain and pleasure and crying out that he didn’t want to cum. I couldn’t help but increase the intensity of the torture (and add in some nip play). I ordered him to spread his legs farther and he obeyed. He cried out that he was close, and I kept varying the intensity to keep him on the edge but not allow him to cum. At one point he was crying out the word Sir. I don’t know if he was calling out to his owner or to me, but it didn’t matter. At first he was begging not to cum, but that changed to begging to be allowed to cum, and that’s when Dom Doc went into overdrive, because Dom Doc wanted him to want to cum, and was not going to allow it. Putting him in that headspace was an amazing feeling for me. I wanted to tie him spread eagle and continue working him over for hours (alas, that did not happen).

Watching him writhe, begging to cum but denying him, seeing the pleasure and the torment on his face and in his words brought back all the things I love about being Dominant. It’s situational. It always has been. There are some men I feel Dominant over, and others I don’t. I don’t have plans to abandon my submissive journey. If anything, I want it more because I want to experience what he was experiencing. But, to be fair, Dom Doc is a much better sadist than sub Doc is a masochist. Sub Doc needs a long warm up before he can take the kind of pain Dom Doc likes to inflict. Sub Doc can get there, usually, but it takes awhile before the pain transforms to a more transcendental experience. Sub Doc wants to be more of an object for use. Dom Doc enjoys tormenting the sub. But what I enjoyed more was feeling his submission, his letting go, his obeying me unquestionably, his willingness to go on a journey together, and the flow of energy and words between us. It’s been a while since I experienced that, and its good to know I both still enjoy it and I still have a desire for it, in the right circumstance.

Kink is ever evolving, ever changing, at least for me. I guess that is the definition of a switch. I’m in a place where submission is my goal, but Domination, should the opportunity present itself, is certainly not off the table. Of course, my cock is completely off the table, but that was not a problem in this case. In the end, it is whatever is pleasurable for both parties involved, and it certainly seemed to be that evening. I have, over the course of my life, always pigeon-holed myself. I need to stop doing that. I realize that I still have a sadistic streak that I find absolutely enjoyable and in the right situation, I have no problem asserting it. I loved the power exchange we had. It doesn’t matter which side of the exchange I’m on as much as that the exchange happens. Having said that, I prefer to be on the submissive side. I don’t want to have a boy again by any means, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t enjoy one now and then. Yes, I still want to be owned property as well. I suppose that I am the very model of switchiness, even if the desire to switch is rare nowadays. There is no denying that it is and will always be a part of me.



I had a great weekend (mostly). I got to hang out with some of my oldest friends and make some new ones. I was able to spend time with my bkf’s (best kink friends) who I have known for *gasp* 25 years and got to meet some new ones. What struck me most, however, was the almost instant camaraderie that developed among us. Two switches, a former Dom/switch now sub, a Dom, and an owned slave just hanging out and having an amazing time in each other’s company, all of us locked, and 3 of us plugged which of course gave us a point of reference.

Truly, it felt like a brotherhood of locked kink men, and I loved it. I will admit that I am envious of how comfortable most of them are in their own skins, embracing their kink loud and proud. I am comfortable around them, but have never felt quite that at ease with my own pervertedness. I’ve always been at ease around the like minded, but have always had to keep the kink under wraps around the muggles due to my work, which is fair. Of course, if you’re Sir Marc and live and work at the Tom of Finland Foundation, no one is going to be shocked to find you in a chastity belt and chaps. You might think twice about seeing your doctor dressed that way. I’d love to live in that world of being free to express yourself at all times. I don’t, but I can visit it.

We had one issue, where a family emergency developed and one of us (owned slave) had to leave early, but that’s a private matter I won’t go into. It did put a damper on things though. Still, I really enjoyed the time spent with my brothers in cages, and I think I’ve made some new bkf’s. Yes, there was some naughty business, but mostly it was just a group of like minded men enjoying being together and discussing kink life (and life in general), the joys of being locked, our dreams, and our frustrations.

Hopefully, we can all get together again soon. It sure as hell beats Zoom. There’s something special about men who are locked or who appreciate locked men. I guess it’s so central to our beings that we recognize ourselves in the other, and that brings an almost instant kinship. We get each other. And isn’t it wonderful to be in the company of others who are wired similarly? I think it is.


Foster Care

After last week’s unbelievable turn of events, I’ve been amazingly lucky to have had an outpouring of support from friends, new and old. I can’t express how grateful I am and how much love I feel. I’m not feeling great about myself, but I’m working on it. I don’t mean only emotionally, though there have been some down moments. I mean physically. I hate the Covid weight I’ve gained, and I hate the physical changes that have happened in the past few very stressful years. Honestly, the bags under my eyes have bags. I did start working out again with a trainer, and it will take some time, but I am motivated to get my body back in shape. I don’t like what I see in the mirror. That’s fixable. Hard work and maybe a little plastic surgery can fix it. The emotional stuff is harder work.

As you know, my butt had been out of commission due to surgery which has been making me sad as that is my major outlet for all sexual tension and frustration. My cock is, as always, off limits. I finally am able to start to play in my hole again. I’ve been able to plug a bit again and work my prostate. It’s where my pleasure center is focused and, honestly, is the core of my submissive self. But it’s still got a bit of a ways to go yet.

It’s also been difficult to have been so unceremoniously dumped by someone who had made it very clear that he owned me, until he didn’t. It took months to get there, and when I did acknowledge his ownership, he rebuffed it. That was major whiplash. I want to be owned. No, I need to be owned, and that’s where a particular group of men have stepped up and “adopted” me. They’ve made me (at least temporarily) a part of their pack, and they’ve made me feel fairly awesome. They’re my foster Doms. I’m not under the illusion that it’s a more permanent thing (though I wish/hope it might someday be) but it is so filling a void right now that’s it’s wonderful. I’m forever grateful to be their “foster” pig/fag/slave for however long it lasts. That’s the amazing thing about the kink community. It’s a brotherhood (especially the gay kink community), and I feel I have an actual true brother in 893 and a fledgling relationship with his Doms who might possibly want to keep things going. His amazing Doms who are truly keeping me sane and surprisingly horny.

893 (he’s owned, and that’s his registry number) and I are spending a weekend together. We plan on some serious debauchery, but we also will have orders from the Alphas to follow. I’ve agreed to surrender myself to them for that time. The pack stepped up when my weekend with ex-sir was cancelled. Seriously, they’re amazing men. I’m not going to refer to the one who dumped me with the honorific. He’s not my Sir and I feel no desire to express any deference to him. Let’s just call him ex.

What’s been amazing is the conversations I’ve had with the group. What was surprising is that Sir Aaron (owner of 893) has even assigned me a temporary registration number. I’m 253, for now, and I’m absofuckinglutely loving it. I’m not under any illusions, but I am loving it and I am going to enjoy it and give Him (and the other Alphas) the respect and service He/They deserve. I can’t tell you how lucky and grateful I am to have met these men.

While I don’t feel old, I am actually old enough to be Sir Aaron’s father. I recently found some pictures of me from the 90’s. Damn, I was hot. I don’t feel that way anymore, but confidence is sexy, and I need to feel confident in myself. I’m stable (emotionally and financially), I’m wickedly funny, I can thrown shade like Rupaul, and I’m a cockwhore. I’ve got a lot to offer. I just need to feel better about myself, and these fine gentlemen are most definitely helping. They seem to see the best qualities in me, at least for now (they haven’t actually met me in person) . Most of my insecurities are in my head, but that was worsened by ex, who made me feel accepted and wanted, and then dumped my ass without an explanation. Not great for someone who’s insecure already. I’m not insecure about most aspects of my life, but I am as a sub. I gave ex everything he could have wanted, and it wasn’t enough. That’s hard. It hurts. But, I do have a lot to offer the right Dom/Doms and I’m not going to hold back. Someone will appreciate the gift I wish to give them. I just need to find the right man/men.

-Doc (aka 253)

And Just Like That

I’m not talking about the Sex and the City reboot (for fuck’s sake, just call 911 Carrie), but rather the turn of events that happened last week. I think I have whiplash. Never in my life has something changed so radically in 24 hours. In fact, it happened 24 hours after my last post. I actually considered taking that post down, but the blog is about my life and it was how I felt at that time, blissfully unaware that everything was going to unravel just a few hours later.

Everything with (then) Sir was going great. We had been texting or talking (and sexting) daily. We had a weekend planned (for this coming weekend in fact). He was picking out a collar. I was ready to give him a key. That’s a big step, in case you don’t know. It signifies ownership for a Dom as much as a collar does for a sub. He was talking excitedly about finally breeding my ass, as it was unavailable the last time we were together. I was looking forward to him marking and claiming it. And then it happened.

He sent me a text saying “I am not going (on the trip). I’m letting you know so you can do whatever you need to do”. I immediately knew something was up. For 3 months he has never referred to himself as “I”, always as “Sir”, and never referred to me as anything but “my pig”. When I got that text, I knew it was over. I didn’t know why, but I knew. Sure enough, when I asked, he eventually responded that he was walking away. I honestly have no fucking clue as to what the issue is/was. It was so out of the blue that I was absolutely blindsided.

If you asked me to design a Dom who was perfect for me, it would be pretty close to him. Yes, I could be bitchy and comment on his shortcomings (there were some), but I won’t. I was careful this time. We were getting to know each other over time. We spent time together and it all seemed to click. He could put me completely into subspace, and he made me feel truly like the sub pig I know I can be. I would have done almost anything he desired. Only then did I move ahead, and then, just like that, just as everything seemed to be coming together, it was over. I’m disappointed, but I am far from devastated. In fact, I thoroughly enjoyed the time we did have. I enjoyed the tasks (ball weights, throat training, cage checks, etc). I enjoyed feeling owned for the first time in years. And I will enjoy it again, when a different man comes along. A man who perhaps more appreciates the gift of submission. It’s just so odd that it happened so suddenly. I don’t really know what is going on in his head, and it doesn’t really matter. I’d like to understand. I’d like to know if it was something about me, or just about him, but I doubt I ever will. He has not been particularly communicative, and I have no desire to ask again.

As the song says, “I chose and my world was shaken, so what? The choice may have been mistaken, the choosing was not. You’ve got to move on.” So I will. In fact, I have. The remainder of my life hasn’t changed. My friends (old and new) have been incredibly kind. Trip was so upset for me that he suggested I go away anyway just to get my needs met, so to speak (but I cancelled the trip). I’m going to IML next month anyway. Also, thanks to several amazing men, I’ll be having a bit of a good time soon enough. I’m not exactly sure what they have planned, but that is part of the fun.

I’m not writing about this for sympathy. Honestly, please do not feel sorry for me. I don’t. I’m just documenting the very abrupt end of what I thought was going to be a long D/s relationship. I was, clearly, wrong.

“Look at what you want, not at where you are, not at what you’ll be, move on….move on.”


P.s. if you’re a homosexual and do not know the song reference, you must immediately return your gay card. It’s Sondheim.

Feels like the First Time

I was awake for several hours the other night. Trip was sleeping soundly next to me. My cage was incredibly tight, my horniness level was at 11, and I found my hand mindlessly stroking the titanium dick in a fruitless effort to relive the feelings of pleasure my pre-locked self so easily could. It wasn’t conscious, but it just kept reinforcing that I no longer have access to what was once my cock, but is no longer, which of course made the cage even tighter. Knowing how hard the contents of the cage was and feeling nothing but the metal encasing it was a feedback loop of epic proportions.

I spoke to Sir (Sir S.) earlier in the day . That’s not unusual, we speak or text daily. We are seeing each other soon and I was (and am excited) about it. But when Sir S. mentions that the cock and the ass, and in fact the whole package, belongs to Him, it sets me off. But that’s not the only reason. I know my titanium dick belongs to Him, but soon He will have total control over it if He wants. He is getting his own custom made key and I want to give him control over the other keys in the lockbox. Then I talked to Trip about it, and Trip’s pleasure in seeing me get what I need sent me over the edge.

Trip likes me locked. He prefers me locked, but he doesn’t really want to control my cock. He doesn’t want to be the keyholder, per se. When I was first permanently locked, it was my former Master (Master B.) who controlled it. Trip has a key (as he should), but he was happy to let Master B. do all the heavy lifting. When that relationship ended, Trip was forced to take on responsibility that he really didn’t want. He does it, but his heart isn’t really in it. Trip doesn’t get joy from owning a metal cock. He is amused by it, and he enjoys having a locked husband, but he’s not a Dom and doesn’t get gratification from ownership. Sir S, on the other hand, does. When Trip and I discussed the possibility that Sir S. would own it fully, Trip was fine with it (relieved might be a better term). In fact, he was excited for me. So I find myself finally back to where I started and to where I need to be, and that is to be owned by a man who is invested in keeping me a locked, denied submissive with no access to the flesh cock without permission and with little likelihood of ever allowing His property to cum. The emergency key will go back into a box with a numbered plastic lock, and the remaining keys will be back in a blue tooth lock box that only Sir S. will control.

While I’ve never unlocked without permission, the possibility has been there since Master B. ended our relationship. Trip has never gone out of his way to keep the keys away from me. He knows I’d only use them when necessary, but he doesn’t want me to have to ask him for permission. He’s made it clear that I can unlock for cleaning, appointments, etc without asking. But that’s not quite enough. I want to feel owned. I want someone to have control over my metal dick. Just feeling that helplessness again is what I need and desire, and it’s blowing my mind. I didn’t think I’d find that again. To be owned by someone who truly desires a locked sub and wants that control is the stuff dreams (both dry and wet) are made of.

And thus the many hours of sleeplessness the other night. While lying there unable to relieve the extreme horniness and unable to satisfy the reptile brain’s desire to orgasm, I was reminded that it is what I want and deserve. The fact that I am so close to getting that again is driving me to heights of agony and ecstasy, just like in the beginning of my journey. I am and will be forever grateful to the two men in my life who are making this possible. To Trip and to Sir S., I am so thankful and blessed to have you in my life.



I’ve never worn my Steelwerks through TSA before. I always assumed, despite it being titanium, that airport metal detectors might detect it. That’s their purpose after all. I have worn it with no problems through non-TSA detectors, such as those found at ballparks and theme parks. They generally aren’t set to be too sensitive as they would generate tons of false positives. I’ve read online on multiple sites about how titanium isn’t “detectable” but I’ve found that suspicious, because you don’t see terrorists making titanium weapons.

Recently, I flew up to meet Trip for the weekend. He’s spending a week up north with friends. I thought to myself, “self, this might be a good time to see if the werks can pass through airport security”. I’m traveling alone, I got to the airport with oodles of time, and I don’t really mind if I would have to show some nice TSA agents my cage. I’m proud to be locked and I know TSA specifically allows chastity devices. So I tried it. I passed through security with absolutely no issues whatsoever. Awesome!

So, I thought nothing of it on my return flight. After all, it’s undetectable, right? Wrong. I totally set off the metal detector, not once, but twice. The nice TSA agent asked me if I had anything metal in my pockets, to which the answer was no. So I got sent to the backscatter scanner. I dutifully spread my legs and raised my arms (not unlike how Sir likes me) and got scanned. My nipple piercings always show up on the scanner. I got my arms and chest patted down, and when he felt the piercing, he said “oh, you have those”. He asked if I had one lower down, to which the truthful answer is yes. It just happens to be attached to a cock cage. I was ready to be pulled into the little room and to pull down my pants, but he just said “you’re clear” and off I went. No big deal as it turned out. I didn’t get Thumpered. It was a minor inconvenience at most. I so much prefer the werks to plastic that it was almost worth it….almost.

That being said, I’m not going to attempt it again, probably. I value the ease and convenience of not having to go through scanners or pat downs, porn stories not withstanding. So while I didn’t have to drop trou this time, I can imagine I might have to, so I think I will just do what I have always done and wear the plastic cage while flying. Lesson learned.

Still, part of me is a bit disappointed that I didn’t have to expose my locked status. I’m not embarrassed about it, and I probably (being a bit of an exhibitionist) would have enjoyed it. But there are better ways to satisfy that fetish, and in truth, I don’t have a great desire to subject non-kink folk to my freak. So I doubt I’ll ever try it again. Maybe…. I mean, what’s the worst that can happen? It’s almost worth it to not have to be unlocked from the werks. Almost, but not quite.