The Slave Whisperer

The saga with @SouthernSwitch1 (aka Alpha) continues. He’s actually extremely good at bringing my slave tendencies to the forefront. I don’t think this is anything permanent (though one never knows what life will throw at you). It’s more like he’s helping keep the currently idled slave in working order. I’m like those A380’s put in the desert; currently mothballed but awaiting a return to service. They need their systems maintained and their engines run every so often to keep them flight-worthy. Same with me; he’s keeping my engines lubricated and my systems maintained, and he’s doing a damn fine job of it.

In some ways, he’s acting as much like my Master as Sir was, except in name. He’s certainly wonderfully controlling, and he has gradually assumed more control of me than I ever originally thought. Yes, he plugs me, but he also picks my underwear, puts me in stretchers, and he’s putting me in gear more and more. Last night he even ordered me collared. I mean, damn. He’s good. He’s very, very good. He makes me feel sexy, submissive, and every bit the slave I am. The only thing missing, to be honest, is a cock to worship and boots to kneel at, and if his were at hand, I’d be on my knees in a red hot minute.

I have spent a lot of of time lately thinking about these feelings and what I am. I have always thought of myself as a mostly Dom switch. But, having lost the use of my cock for almost 3 years (and I don’t see getting it back anytime soon), and having experienced being owned by Sir and now being controlled by Alpha, it’s pretty obvious to me that this is what I am meant to be. Oh, I still enjoy being a Top (at least a caged one, but that’s another post), but I am more and more coming to terms with my need to be owned. I can’t deny it anymore (not that I denied it before, I just didn’t believe it was as strong a desire as it is).

It is a powerful force calling to me. The freedom in total subservience is real (ironic, but true). To respect another man enough to obey his commands solely to please him is a pleasure all in itself. True, I’m getting a great deal of pleasure from the things he has me do, but they do get uncomfortable and occasionally quite challenging. I still do them, because that is part and parcel of being a slave, and it brings me joy to do that for him (which I have no doubt he is aware of).

I hope Alpha and his Master know how much I appreciate what he is doing for (and to) me. I hope to get a chance to show him in person just how much I appreciate it. I’m sure we will see each other eventually. I’d happily get on a flight just to spend an afternoon with them (and no, sex would not be expected or required, I just want to hug him and see Drew again, though I wouldn’t say no if they wanted….). I mean I am actually old enough to be his father (if I knocked someone up when I was a teenager, but still). It’s just that I feel a very strong emotional connection with him, not necessarily a physical one. Besides, he’s way cuter than I am (to be fair, I used to be really cute, but that was many years ago).

Knowing that I need a Master, I’ve started cautiously looking again. I’m not out on the apps hunting, but I’m open to it again. Maybe in a few more months things will start to happen again. I’m just going to leave it up to the universe at this point. I’ve always had luck in having the right man show up at the right time, with one glaring exception.

As for the Dom side, which is currently not needing attention, he’s still there and will always be, but he is clearly less important than I thought. My greatest satisfaction comes from feeding my submissive nature. The pendulum may swing again, but I’m not worrying about it. I’m enjoying being a KH and a Dad to a certain boy very much. It’s all about balance, I suppose.

So here we are, with yours truly idling on the taxiway and just itching to get airborne again. I mean, us A380‘s may be expensive and inefficient, but we are a hell of a nice ride.


Catching Up

I haven’t written in a while. Not because I don’t have anything to write about (in fact, quite the opposite), but just because I haven’t had time to sit down and write anything.

Work has been busier than ever, and I’ve been spending almost 7 days a week getting things up and running, dealing with back orders (everything is back-ordered), finding work arounds, trouble shooting new software and running down network errors, and finding time to do all that and see patients while watching the bills pill up and my account balances go down. I’m exhausted, but in a good way. The days are long, but they go by fast (it’s 6 pm already?). But we know you didn’t come here to hear that….

My relationship (for lack of a better term, I’m not really sure what to call it) with Southern Switch has gone farther and faster than I would have imagined. He really just stepped in (to be honest, he was volun-told) to help keep me plugged like Sir used to, but it has evolved well past that. I’m amazed by the connection I am feeling, and I think he feels as well, even if I’m 154th on his priority list. Just to catch you up, I’m pretty much plugged every day now (which is more often than with Sir). He’s also choosing my undergarments (jocks mostly, the sexier the better), and some of my accessories (i.e. I must wear something outwardly visible to signal my status as his beta, usually leather). He essentially owns my ass now, and I have absolutely no complaints. I’m as horny as a 14 year old lately. I do admit my 50 something year old ass is not as accommodating as it used to be, but he seems to be whipping it back into shape. He’s also decided we are stretching my balls (again, zero complaints) and I believe there are plans he hasn’t told me about yet. I don’t know what he wants to do to me, but I know I’m going to do whatever he wants. It’s pretty heady stuff.

What amazes me is how completely he has gotten into my head. I find myself calling him Sir from time to time. I can’t help it, he just makes me feel that way. There was a big gaping hole in my heart from losing my previous Master, and perhaps I am too willing to find a life boat, but I don’t think so. He is naturally assuming that degree of control, and I am willingly giving it to him. It just happened, and I couldn’t be happier about it. I don’t know what the future holds, but it feels right for me and needed. Thank you Alpha.

On the Dom side: Pup has been locked for over a month and had his first orgasm without touching his now locked dick. This was a major goal we had, and I’m both pleased for him and proud of him. There’s nothing like the feeling of your first “hands free” orgasm for a caged man. It’s one of those things that just reinforces the desire to stay locked, because it’s amazing when it happens. The pup is about 1/3 of the way to his original goal. I’m here to encourage him to meet and exceed that goal. I mean, helping a pup stay locked is a tough job, but somebody has to do it.

We are all fully vaccinated around here, so it’s really nice to have a semblance of normalcy and not to feel that constant anxiety. We’re still careful (we’re masking and sanitizing all the time), but the existential dread is gone. My entire office and nursing staff is vaccinated. The pleasure of eating lunch with someone cannot be overstated nor taken for granted.

Speaking of lunch, I had lunch with another of my kinky locked friends the other day. Thankfully, the staff went out to lunch, as the conversation was definitely not office appropriate (I don’t want to have to watch a video). We caught up and it was delightful. He was showing me pics of an incredibly sexy boy he had tied up and is talking about locking all the while complaining how he doesn’t meet anyone. I almost slapped him. I mean, come on man, you’re doing just fine. Gotta love him though.

That’s all the news from Lake Wobegon, where all the women are strong, all the men are good looking, and all the children are above average.


Moments of Grace

There have been several times in my life where everything seems to align and somehow, something in the universe seems to take over. I remember them vividly. They don’t seem to happen very often and I can’t explain them, other than there seems to be some touch of the divine involved.

I was a musician from the age of 6. I was fairly good. There was a group of us that always ended up in the same competitions and at the same auditions. I was typically in the middle of the pack. Solid, reliable but never outstanding, neither great nor bad, like the perennial bronze medalist. I always placed right in the middle of the same group of about 10 fellow musicians every single time, which was fine. However, one competition was very different. I don’t know how it happened, but as I sat in the auditorium in front of the judges and the audience and placed my bow to the strings, something magical occurred. The sounds I produced were unlike anything I had done before. I couldn’t make a mistake or even a little wobble or squeak. For that one moment, I was YoYo fucking Ma, and I gave what has to be the best performance of my entire life. The audience disappeared, as did the judges, and I was just alone with the universe, sending music out to the heavens. I was playing, but it wasn’t me who was playing, or at least not me alone. I won that competition. I won it by a lot. I beat people who were older, more experienced, and quite frankly better than me. I knew I could play, but I didn’t know I could play like that. It was magical. After I started my doctoral training, I stopped playing and practicing as I didn’t really have the time anymore. I can still bang out a tune, but nothing like I could when I was younger.

It happened again once during the championship of the gay bowling league my then lover and I were in in Sacramento. Again, I was a solid bowler, never great, never bad. My lover and I were on different teams and we were competing for first place in the finals. Again, something in the universe took over my arm, and I bowled my first 700 scratch series. In fact, I almost had a perfect game. I had 11 strikes in a row, and then left 1 pin on my 12th ball. I threw 3 games at least 100 points above my average, and right at the perfect time. I still have that trophy.

Most of my moments though have come from bdsm. I think one of the reason people are so into bdsm is that once you have an experience like that, you keep chasing it again, and it happens more reliably. The most memorable was a whipping I received. It started out as a flogging, and as I got more and more into it, I started to leave my body. Sir switched from a flogger to a single tale and began to tenderize my back. I don’t remember the lashes. I just remember the intense feelings of pleasure and being alone with the universe again. Maybe it was an endorphin high, but it was absolutely a religious experience. My scenes don’t always go there, in fact they rarely do, but when they do, it’s truly like touching god. I was left bloodied and flayed, but I could not have cared less about the physical. I had spent what felt like hours floating somewhere else, at peace, and at one with the mystical.

I had something very similar the other night. I was texting with Alpha. It started out as a typical checking in text. Somehow, it moved into more of an erotic Master/slave dynamic on SMS. Pretty soon, I was starting to feel that overwhelming feeling of losing myself to the universe again. I begged to be plugged. I beat my balls for him repeatedly. I was so hot and bothered, and again the world disappeared for a while. I’ve never had this happen over a text, but something sure did happen. I was in some of the deepest sub-space I have been in for quite some time. I would have done anything he asked. I think the trust level has gotten to the point where the fear of giving in is mostly gone. While he wasn’t physically there, he was mentally for me. Perhaps the isolation we have all felt this past year has left me open to experiencing that Zen in new ways. Whatever the reason, I was grateful to have had the experience again.

Stay well and stay safe,



I’ve been discussing ball stretchers with @SouthernSwitch lately. He spent a day recently in his Steelwerks ball cuff and we had a lively discussion (and obligatory pics). As I may have mentioned, I’m rather a fan of cbt in general and ball play in particular, and I am rather fond of a stretcher. My balls can take a lot. I’ve been suspended by them. I’ve had more than 30 pounds hanging from them. I have a collection of stretchers, but most of them have the same problem: they’re too small.

At least in the ball department, I am very well endowed. If “ball porn” was a thing, I’d be a star. I’m like the Cutler X of balls. My cock might be average, but my balls are, how should I put this….huge.

Trying to squeeze my sac into the average circumference stretcher is not an easy feat, and I usually end up with pretty severe pinching and bruising. I’ve got some beautiful locking weighted stretchers that I just can’t fit into. Usually, my balls end up being roped or strapped somehow instead, because it’s just easier. I have an entire drawer of stretchers and weights I don’t use because it’s just too damn difficult to squeeze into them. As much as I like ball pain, I don’t care for that kind of pain. Anyone who has gotten their cock stuck in a zipper knows the kind of pain I’m talking about.

It’s not like I walk around wishing I had smaller balls, I just wish the makers of stretchers would make bigger ones. Even the leather ones with two rows of snaps are too small. I can get them on, just barely. There’s just more sac than room to put it, no matter how stretched it is. I can’t be the only one with this problem. They make “magnum” condoms, why not “magnum” ball stretchers?

There are worse problems than having a couple of XXL eggs in your jock, but it annoys me that I can’t find something that both accomplishes the job and I can put on without inflicting unintentional pain. I’ve been discussing the issue with Chris at @steelwerks for a while now and we have gone back and forth on ideas, but nothing has come of it so far. Ultimately, something custom will be the answer, but I have to think there is a market for larger balled male toys. I mean look at what’s happened in the chastity cage market in the last few years. Maybe there’s a business opportunity here. Hmmmm…..

Stay well and stay safe


The 15 year old Repressed Kinky Gay Kid Who Lives Rent Free in my Mind

I’ve tried to evict him, multiple times, but he just won’t leave. He pops in at the most inopportune times (like your Mother coming into your room when you’re jerking off), and he has the same effect on me as Mom seeing me whack would have.

I knew I was gay from the time I discovered my penis. I also knew I was kinky from about the same age (though I didn’t know the word for it). And I also knew it was wrong. I was ashamed and I hid my sexuality from my family, and my friends, and from myself as best I could. But I couldn’t stop dreaming about the hot guys in school (or Magnum PI) and I couldn’t help getting hard over leather and boots and any other fetishes I have, and I couldn’t jerk off without thinking about them.

I didn’t finally admit to myself I was gay until well after I started having sex with men, and I did not admit it to anyone else for quite a while after that. I just thought the world would end if I did.

Well, the world didn’t end. In fact, it got better, because living your truth is so much less exhausting than denying it and repressing those feelings. But that didn’t make that instinct go away. The instinct that I cultivated for the first 20 odd years of my life that things I desired were wrong. It’s still there. It’s why it took me so many years to admit I wanted to be locked or plugged. In fact, being gay was easier to accept than being kinky. I am jealous of people who are comfortable in their own skin to a degree that I am not. I’m comfortable around other kink-minded folk, but that 15 year old in my head is still embarrassed by it.

I’ve gone to therapy and I’ve developed strategies to cope with him, but he patently refuses to go away, and sometimes he causes me to do or say things that I regret. I’m not going into specifics, but it’s happened. He doesn’t tell me when he’s going to show up. I know it from the rapid heart rate, the sweaty clammy feeling I get, and the fact that my guts wrap up into such a tight ball you could bounce it.

There’s always that segment on “Drag Race” where Ru asks each queen what they would say to their younger selves if they could. I know what I would say, because I say it all the time: “shut the fuck up, there’s nothing wrong with us!”, but he doesn’t listen. He fears judgement. He makes me fear it. I’d really like to just say “fuck ‘em if they can’t take a joke”, but he doesn’t let me.

I tell myself that the reason I don’t post a face pic on my non-muggle media is because I have a professional reputation to maintain and the kink I share here and on Twitter is not something that would be appreciated, and that’s certainly true. In fact, a number of years ago I had to remove some pics from Recon because someone (my ex, aka cunt face) sent them to my hospital administrator. But, in all honesty, a little bit of the reason is that scared 15 year old in my head. Nothing terrible happened from those pics. They were deleted and the matter was never discussed again, other than to tell me they had been removed. Still, my guts wadded up and I had pretty much a full blown panic attack. I wish I could have laughed it off and commented on how hot I look in gear, but I froze, stammering, sweating, and being that 15 year old whose Mom just saw him stick something up his butt.

I’m still working on it. It’s probably something I am always going to have to deal with, but at least I know where it comes from and how to recognize when he decides to show up. I just wish he would stop showing up.

Stay safe and stay well


Six Degrees of Drew

I’ve been a kinkster since before I knew what sex was. I’ve had kink relationships and friendships most of my adult life (once I got over the shame of being not only kinky, but gay, which was a real struggle for me). I lost most of my original tribe to HIV in the 90’s. But lately, almost all of my kink related connections somehow seem to be a nexus with @DualDrew smack in the middle of it. It makes me wonder if I’ve become some weird kink stalker, but in reality, it just sort of happened in the small world of kink and chastity in the age of Twitter. You’ve heard of “Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon”? Well this is my Six Degrees of Drew.

About 3 or 4 years ago, as I sat miserably with my sex life with Tripp slowly dying as he couldn’t bottom much anymore, and with Sir wanting me locked, and with me wanting me locked and not knowing how to broach that subject with Tripp, I found Thumper’s blog (denyingThumper) on the internet. His was the first blog that struck a chord with me and he was a great source of hope and strength for me. To be fair, the only blog I knew of at that time was “Julie and Julia”. I’ve not yet met Thumper in real life. We were supposed to grab lunch when he was in LA, but that didn’t work out, much to my disappointment (bad Thumper). But I knew of Thumper before I knew of Drew, and I found DualDrew’s blog when he started humping and generally abusing the rabbit. I started to read Drew’s blog and immediately felt an even stronger resonance.

I sent Drew a note on Twitter because he had connections with Steelwerks and I wanted one of their cages (I was locked about a year by then I think). Drew and I messaged back and forth and eventually exchanged phone numbers. We seemed to be kindred spirits. He got me hooked up with the kinky artists at Steelwerks. Funny thing is that I had contacted them before, many years ago about a cage, but never pursued it past a few emails. Over time, I somehow ended up with Chris’s personal phone number as well (I believe that comes with a minimum of a 2 cage order, along with an Eggroll) and have found they both are wickedly kinky and wickedly funny, and we have enjoyed a few conversations and many text exchanges and a few laughs regarding all things penis. So now I’ve got Thumper who I Twitter chat with (to be fair, I knew of Thumper first, but didn’t reach out to him until I already was chatting with Drew), Drew, and the artisans at Steelwerks in my little kink circle of people I feel at least some connection to. Not the type of connection Drew has, but one nonetheless. Connection enough to share non-kink stuff and be Facebook friended and yes, I know everyone’s real name and face.

As the Pandemic started, Drew and I and Jockdgear started doing a few FaceTime Happy Hours. Drew had recently reconnected with his “kink whisperer” and thought we would get along. Jockd thought I looked awfully familiar. It didn’t take long for us to figure out that we dated 25 years ago, right about the same time he and Drew dated. Another connection with Drew somehow in the middle (though neither Drew nor I knew each other back then).

Now, I’m texting with his boy Jack. We seem to also be kindred spirits and he has apparently taken over primary Doc plugging duties. Let’s recap: Thumper, the Steelwerks folks, Jockd, and Jack, all tied into connecting with Drew.

Recently, I got a Twitter message from someone in Australia who likes my blog (I get some lovely messages from time to time, which I adore because someone has actually read my posts and felt something that resonates enough to contact me). Being someone who pretty much always responds to messages, we started to chat. It didn’t take me long to figure out it was Drew’s friend/Sir “Jeep”. I guessed pretty quickly, because Drew has told me about his adventures Down Under, but most of the men he knows there are subs and this man was definitely giving off serious Dominant vibes. Something in my subconscious said “OMG, this must be Jeep”. I enjoyed that conversation, and he was definitely giving me that “weak in the knees” feeling as far as the exuding of natural dominance. It started off with the typical “I like your blog” and somehow ended up with “Sir”and “boy” being tossed around. Normally, someone who goes there that fast sets off all kinds of alarm bells. I mean, it’s rather presumptuous to start acting like I’m your boy halfway into a Twitter DM, but Drew’s known him for years and isn’t emotionally scarred or axe-murdered, so I figured I could let my guard down. I ended up with a very tight cage.

Now I’ve got a network of people with whom I feel some connection with, all of them from connecting with Drew. He’s not my kink whisperer, but he seems to be my kink LinkedIn. The biggest difference I think is that Drew is far more extroverted than I am. I don’t make friends easily, but those I do are usually friends for life. It’s hard for me though, to be completely honest and if I hadn’t sent Drew that initial message, I’d probably never have gotten to know these people.

Just FYI: my friend’s therapist is Kevin Bacon’s mother-in-law, so I’m only 3 Degrees from Kevin Bacon.

Stay safe and stay well


Remote Control

Geez, another post already? You usually go days or weeks without posting, Doc. Sometimes even longer. What’s going on here? Well, dear readers, there’s stuff to talk about!

If a man you’ve never met, who is the boy/slave of a friend who lives on the other side of the country starts texting you with orders on plugging your ass and what undergarments to wear, and commands you to send pics and make Twitter posts, would you obey? Apparently for me, the answer is yes.

My fellow locked (sometimes) switch @dualdrew, feeling sorry for my recently unowned ass, stepped in and stepped up and started texting me plug instructions. Being the good sometimes sub that I am, I decided to follow his instructions, because it’s been fun to have someone tell me when and what plug to carry again. and I really miss Sir doing that to/for me. Drew didn’t ask, he simply said “XXL, all day”. Here’s a little secret about me: while I am not naturally submissive, I do respond to dominance. There aren’t many men who can make me weak in the knees, but if I’m going to swoon, it’s because they demand what they want. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not about a lack of consent, it’s about power. No means no. A command like Drew’s is going to get one of two responses; a. Very funny, or b: Yes Sir. Drew got b.

After a few days, Drew did something else. He outsourced my ass. Cheeky man. He told his boy @southernswitch1 to take over. Honestly, as if it took all that much time to text me instructions (said in my best Blanche Devereaux imitation).

I haven’t met @southernswitch1, at least not in person. We were all going to have lunch together this past fall, but with their whirlwind visit to CA and the pandemic in full swing, we couldn’t quite make it work. And yet, he’s currently owning my ass, and I’m having fun.

I’ve gotten to know him better over the last few weeks. He’s awfully sweet and awfully kinky and just the same kind of nasty pig as I am. There’s more to it than that though. There’s a dynamic at play that I have never experienced; being a sub to a sub, a beta if you will. I’ve been a slave for many years and I’ve served other Tops for Sir, but I have never, ever been a beta or ever even thought of myself like that, and damn, but I am actually finding the whole thing cage-tighteningly hot. On top of that, I’m a beta to a locked sub.

I’m finding the entire experience enlightening. I am also really enjoying getting to know my “slave brother” better. I’m looking forward to the near future when we can actually hug each other (and of course take the mandatory Steelwerks get together pics). I’ve somehow accumulated a number of #lockedinwerks friends (6 at last count, and yes, Drew, I’m counting you too, even if you’re not locked as often as you should be). People who are actually in my contacts list and not just Twitter friends. People I know in real life, and people with whom I share a variety of interests.

I don’t know how long this will continue. I imagine a while at least. As long as everyone is having fun and no one is getting hurt, there’s absolutely no reason not to keep going. Perhaps I’ll meet a new Master sometime who will take my ass for his own, or maybe @southernswitch1 will get tired of me, but for now, I have to admit I am feeling warm and fuzzies. I can’t speak for him, but I hope he is as well. It’s just new and rather exciting, and that doesn’t happen too often anymore. But it’s somehow more than that, it’s an intimacy that I haven’t shared with many men. I can count on one hand the number of people who have had this type of control over me, and I can count on one finger the number of subs.

I’m determined to enjoy the ride for as long as it lasts and I’m determined to be a good beta for him and Drew (as good as one can be from 2000 miles away). I discover new kinks all the time (like having a pup, who knew?). So, whether this is a new kink or whether I just need somebody I trust to plug me regularly, it’s been good so far. I feel comfortable with this, and I like that. When/if it ends, there won’t be any hard feelings or disappointments, just a fondness for the closeness we are developing, which I hope continues to develop. One can never have too many friends, can one? I think @Southernswitch1 will always be one.

Stay safe and stay well


Morning Glory

I love waking up. Not those alarm shrieking, got to get to work mornings, but those lazy mornings when I slowly rouse and my cock is hard in my cage. I wake grinding my hips into the mattress, pleasantly horny, my cage so very tight reminding me that I am a caged male. It’s mornings like that when all seems right with the world.

It’s a wonderful reminder of what I am. My cock, without my brain thinking about anything erotic, fills my cage as much as possible and I feel both the pleasure and the confinement. It’s days like that that I know this is how I am meant to be. It’s times like that that I feel one with my cage, that it’s a part of me, not a hunk of metal locked onto me, and it’s delicious.

The pressure of my cock pressing against its jail, and of that prison pressing back just as hard is an amazing feeing, and one only caged men get to experience. There’s nothing else quite like it. Sometimes it’s too intense. Sometimes I have to get up and piss to lessen the pressure, but usually I can just enjoy the melding of my body and my cage into one unit. I’m hard. I’m hard as I can be, but I’m also contained. I fill my tube until not even a molecule of air could slip through, and no more. Even as I grab my tube. I can’t touch myself, I can’t feel my hand on my shaft. It’s divorced. The absence of sensation a sensation all its own. A lack of sensation that is just so right. It screams “locked” in my brain, and it just feels so comfortable and correct.

It’s mornings like these that I reach out and pull my husband to me, that I slip my cage between his ass cheeks like I was still free, that I hump him even though there is no chance of penetration or stimulation . It is pleasure enough just to press my caged cock against him. To show him that even locked, he is what I want and need. That the desire still burns in me, perhaps even more so since I’ve been caged.

It’s been 3 years since I’ve penetrated Tripp with my flesh cock. I miss it, and I don’t. I mean, part of me misses it, but most of me prefers to be caged, always feeling the burn, yet denied. The fire is more intense because I am denied, locked, and know I always will be.


Collar Time

Tripp and I have sex. It’s fairly vanilla (I mean, as much as having my cock in a metal tube can be considered vanilla) most of the time. There’s kissing and stroking and nipple play and usually some ball play, and maybe the wand, but nothing that either of us will have bruises from. When I was seeing Sir, I was pretty much guaranteed to be sent home bruised and well used. I need that sometimes. Not all the time, mind you, but definitely fairly regularly.

I haven’t seen Sir in a year, and as you know we aren’t Master and slave anymore, but I still need those heavy sessions. Tripp can have a truly wicked sadistic streak, but it usually doesn’t come out on its own. It needs a little coaxing. Tripp doesn’t always get when I need him to dominate me. It’s not natural for him, so we have some cues and rituals that we use. We call it collar time.

As the name implies, it usually involves me being collared. Not with my normal chain collar, but with a thick, heavy leather collar. Sometimes Tripp presents it to me on his own, but more likely than not, I usually kneel in front of him with the collar in my hands for him to lock on me. I’ll usually put on some gear as well for him. I’ll often spend the day or at least a good part of the evening geared and collared, and sometimes bound and gagged.

Collar Time

But it’s his cue to treat me rough. I often get a really good paddling, or maybe a flogging, I’ll get plugged, maybe fucked, and my nips and balls will be sore for days. I mean, he’s dragged me around the house by my balls. It’s heaven for me. When he is really into it as well, he can really do a number on me. He stops being nice for a while. He treats me the way I need to be treated, which is as a toy.

Quality Time

It’s been a little while since we had our last collar time. I’m really needing it. In fact, as soon as I sign off here, I’m going to get one of my collars from the toy drawer and go kneel before my husband.

Take care and stay safe


Pity Cum

I came 8 times between January and November last year. Twice from the wand, twice while being fucked, and four times from having my balls beaten. All of my orgasms were caged, naturally. I think, being perfectly honest, coming from ball play is my favorite. It’s not the easiest way for me to come, but it’s definitely the most satisfying, I think.

I got at least 8 orgasms in December (if not more, I didn’t count), all of them by wand. Tripp felt sorry for me as Sir and I were ending and I was kind of down in the dumps. Sir and I had been seeing each other, outside, 6 feet apart every so often, and our Master/slave dynamic was dying. Sir and I were in separate “bubbles” and he had met a new boyfriend, and there wasn’t much room for our relationship. The last time we saw each other, before Thanksgiving, he gave me back the keys to my cage that he held. That just crushed me. I was crying in Tripp’s arms that night. Even though I knew the relationship was fizzling, having my keys given back was just a bit too much.

Tripp started giving me orgasms fairly frequently after that, at least weekly, and often more than that. It was his way of making me feel better. I didn’t argue, I just accepted it (and I enjoyed them I suppose). At one point I mentioned how many more orgasms I had had those weeks. He told me not to get used to it, and sure enough, I haven’t had one in 2021 yet. I’ve gotten close, but he stops me. I’m not sure when I’ll get another, but I think he figures I had a year’s worth in December, so I’m probably done for a while.

Funny thing is that I didn’t want them at the time. I wasn’t feeling particularly good about things, and coming was the last thing on my mind. Now, while I really miss Master, I’ve come to terms with it, and my desires have returned. I’m horny as fuck half the time and there’s no relief in sight. I’d really like to have my balls beaten until I blow, but that’s not happening. I want what we call “collar time” (I’ll tell you all about that in a another post). Even writing about it has my cage tight and my balls aching. Of course, this is part and parcel of being locked, and it’s pretty much normal for me. I guess it’s good to be back to normal again.