Locking Day

In the last post, I told you about the pup. In case you’re so inclined, he’s @puphermes on Twitter. Please feel free to check out his feed, but be prepared to be envious (fair warning). When pup asked me to lock him and take his cock, well, he didn’t have to ask me twice. Somehow, I just knew we would be a good fit. I know a thing or two about being locked, and he was ready to have his cock privileges taken away. As I said, both Covid and distance are a bit of a problem, as I have never done “remote” control. Luckily, I have very kinky friends.

Once we had established that the pup was getting locked, I texted @jockdgear asking if he had any suggestions. In under 3 nanoseconds, he gave me the information about the best blue tooth lock box. He also just happened to have a few of them laying around, and before you could say “chastity”, he had programmed one of the boxes to my phone and sent it off to the pup. I have the best kink friends. He’s like the Home Depot of kink.

The pup got the lock box on Friday . He’s already in a Cobra cage. We tested the lock box that night and it functioned perfectly. My eager pup was ready to put his keys in right away, but I had a different plan for him.

It’s not his first time in chastity. He’s self-locked for a while, but it is his first time having a Sir who owns his cock and controls his keys. I gave him several orders to complete prior to me locking him. I wanted to make it memorable for him. After all, it’s not every day that you give up your manhood.

His first task was to not play with his ass all day yesterday and today. If you knew him, you would know this is not an easy thing, but he did. I also instructed him to shave his cock and balls and to trim his pubes. I told him to put his steel collar on, to have his plug in and Hitachi wand available and to have his puppy hood on.

After making him wait 24 hours, I FaceTimed him. There he was almost just as instructed. I say almost, because I did tell him to be naked. He was excited and wore leather gear to please me. He did look very tasty in it, so I let that pass. I appreciated the gesture of my pup wanting to please me. He knows his Sir is a leather man, and while he is a rubber pup, he was decked out in leather gear. I mean, I did melt just a bit.

Kneeling before his lock box, I asked him if he was ready. He mumbled he was (through the hood). He placed his keys in the box. I told him to ask me to lock his keys. He asked. I asked him again if he was sure. He was. I told him to close the box, which he did without hesitation. He was (and is) now a locked boy.

“What do you say boy?” I asked. “Thank You, Sir” he replied. And then I ordered him to cum for me. I told him to put the wand on his cage and watched as he proceeded to squirm and writhe his way to his first caged orgasm. I watched his cum explode from his cage as he moaned and thanked me. He was light headed and overwhelmed for several minutes, but we talked through it. We’ve been talking most of the night.

He also asked for and got his rules. Judging by the pictures of his trembling caged cock, I’m going out on a limb and say he likes them.

We’ve made plans to spend a weekend together next month. I already feel very close to him so I have little doubt he will be riding my arm within a few minutes.

For those of you not able to see his a Twitter feed, here are a few pics of his now locked cock and his incredibly hungry ass.

The Ass
The Cage
Hungry Ass and newly trimmed pubes

I’m so proud to call this pup mine.


The Accidental Pup

I met a puppy this week. Not an actual canine, but a boy/pup. He’s made quite an impression on me. It all started, as these things do, with chastity.

I guess I’m kind of known for being locked, at least on Twitter. There’s a very adorable boy who follows me who has wanted to be locked for a long time. He was asking for someone to hold his keys, and I raised my hand. I’m very civic minded, after all. We’ve been texting and FaceTiming since. He’s getting a key safe and I will be controlling his cock. You all know me as a locked boy, but I have been (and still am) quite dominant.

There are a number of things that attracted me to him. He’s very cute (fucking adorable), he’s very kinky, he’s a rubber and leather boy, and he has a very, very hungry ass. He likes very large things in his holes. He’s also smart as a whip and funny. I’ve followed him for a while as well. He desperately wants his cock locked and owned. He reminds me a great deal of Tripp (except for the locking) when we first met all those years ago. For some reason, we just clicked. Almost immediately, we felt a connection. For me to be the Dom, there has to be a certain chemistry, and it’s there big time. I’m very drawn to him. Things moved pretty quickly on the cage front. He will be locked away this weekend, his cock under my control.

Tripp thinks he’s hot as well. We talked about it. Tripp’s words were “have fun, but you are not being unlocked”. If I were to want to fuck a boy, I’d want to fuck this one. In fact, I really want to fuck this one. However, I’m locked, and I am not allowed to fuck. I’m not allowed to play with anyone unlocked. That option was taken off the table a while ago. The boy knows my cock is off limits, and he’s fine with it. In fact, I think he’s more than fine with it. He likes my cage almost as much as I do. I also think he likes the fact the I understand what it is like to be locked long term and he understands my need to stay caged.

I’m feeling a bit giddy. I’m older than him, and he still thinks I’m “cute”. I haven’t been cute for 15 years, but, hey. I’ll take it. Now, I’m no stranger to being a Daddy. I’ve had boys and slaves. I’ve also been a boy to several men and am a slave to one man. But I have never had a pup. I’ve seen puppy play at Folsom and IML. I watched a session once with a certain degree of amusement. I never thought pup play would be of interest to me. I get the kink, but it’s not my kink. Except, I am really into this pup and I like what he is doing to me. I also like how into me he is. Who wouldn’t be turned on by that? He’s the kind of boy people line up for, and he’s interested in me for some reason. I can see being his Master/Handler. I’ve got no experience in this particular kink, but I don’t think that matters a whole lot. See, I really, really like this pup. There are so many kinks we share, and I am happy to delve into the pup play. He’s just going to have to be patient with me.

We haven’t met in the real world yet, due to Covid and the fact that he lives about 300 miles away. We’ve done the best we can via messenger and FaceTime, but I’d really like to get my hands on his, er, paws. We’ll figure it out. It’s early days, but he fucking turns me on. He’s essentially the perfect kind of submissive that gets my Dom juices flowing.

So, Saturday is the day I take his cock away from him. He’s got his orders (he loves orders), and I have a surprise planned for him on that special day. If things continue to progress, Steelwerks will have another new customer. He’s in a cobra cage, and I have to admit, it suits him. Seeing his very nice cock in that cage makes me rather hot and bothered. Next to being locked, locking someone else is very high on my to do list. I’m feeling rather lucky to have met the pup, and to be married to a man who allows me out to play. Stay tuned.


Too Much of a Good Thing

I’m having a conundrum: I haven’t been allowed an orgasm for 82 days. My first opportunity is in 2 weeks (it’s my birthday). The other night, while I was particularly horny (as in begging), Tripp gave me a choice. I can come in 2 weeks and then have no chance of an orgasm for 5 months, or I can wait 2 more months and then get a second orgasm within the next 3 months. I’ll still get two orgasms in the next 6 months or so, but I either wait at the front end or the back. Just because I tell him which one, doesn’t mean that’s what’s going to happen. Like the Sorting Hat, Tripp takes my input into consideration, but it doesn’t mean I’ll get Gryffindor. I don’t know what I’m going to do. Tripp seems to be enjoying my dilemma.

This got me thinking about how the hell I got here. When I first wanted to be locked, it wasn’t about orgasm denial, it was about no longer masturbating. I still wanted orgasms, I just wanted them from sex. I realized at the time I wouldn’t be having the daily orgasms I was giving myself, but I figured I would be having several a week. I didn’t want to be denied, I just wanted them to be controlled. That’s how things went for a while, until Tripp discovered he enjoyed not letting me come as much, if not more, than letting me.

That’s the irony of my being locked. The idea was to have more orgasms with my husband instead of myself. Somehow, it’s now about me not having orgasms at all. I probably shouldn’t keep track of how long I’m denied anymore. The rational part of my brain says I should just accept that I may not come, and be pleasantly surprised if I do. The other part of my brain is somewhat obsessed with how long I go between orgasms and just dwells on it, and Tripp likes to feed that part of my brain. He has grown to like denying me.

Part of Tripp’s game with me is to tease me about my lack of orgasms. He likes getting me hot and bothered and wanting to come and just leaving me there. He likes telling me that I’m not going to come, and I like (love) that he wants to control my cock to such a huge degree. He gets this magical look in his eyes as he whispers that I’m not going to come this day/week/month. I got way more than I asked for when I asked him to lock me, but I am not complaining. I wanted to have an active erotic relationship with my husband, and that is what I got, in spades.

I also discovered that denial is a kink of mine I never knew about. I think it’s more that I like that Tripp likes it, but I cannot deny that I find the idea that my orgasms are so few to be quite exciting. I love being made so frustrated about not being allowed to come that I’m left whimpering and humping the air. It does rather tick a number of kink boxes for me.

I wonder if orgasms are really that important. The connection between Tripp and me that has developed by my state of denial is far more important. I suppose if I didn’t care about having an orgasm, it wouldn’t be so exciting that I don’t, so in that aspect, they are quite important. Orgasm denial is now a major part of our relationship, something neither of us ever thought about before. In fact, he used to find it difficult denying me. He thought I got too needy. Now, he appreciates that.

This journey we’re on has certainly taken some twists and turns and has us in a far different place than what I expected. Still, so far it’s been an incredible ride. Whether I come or not, the journey has proved to be far more interesting than the destination.


Locktober Surprise

Well, another Locktober approaches. I will, naturally, be participating, as I have for the previous two. Of course, I haven’t been unlocked since that first one in 2018, so locked guys like me participating in Locktober is akin to men who already have mustaches participating in Movember (btw, I’ve had a mustache since I was 16).

I started my full time chastity journey shortly before Locktober, and I didn’t really consider the month that celebrated Genitalus incarceratis when starting. But, I must admit that it did help in my early journey. A whole group of people participating in a month of locked penises, encouraging it, praising it, cheering locked men on was really quite inspiring.

It actually quite amazing, if you think about it, how far we have come in the last few decades. I knew nothing of chastity when I was younger, and if I wanted to see porn, I had to go to a dirty bookstore and buy a magazine. Now, I can see as many dicks as I care to, locked or otherwise, on my handheld device in my living room. I can talk to other kinksters in a way that was impossible not that long ago. Those who grew up with this probably don’t think it miraculous. I remember the moon landing. I remember going to my father’s office to play computer games on their mainframe, which took up an entire set of rooms of the building and connecting to it via a teletype or a green dots on black screen CRT. I remember the first home computers. My best friend got a Commodore 64 with a cassette tape deck for storage. My first calculator cost over $100 (my first car was $500). I had one of the first Macs ever made when I was in college. In my lifetime, we’ve gone from payphones, yellow pages, and expensive long distance to iPhones, google, and worldwide communication at your fingertips. There’s more computer power in my phone than existed on the planet the year I was born. It’s really quite amazing.

All of this technological wizardry allows those who are locked and those who appreciate them around the world to come together to celebrate chastity. Just knowing there were a few people with the same kinks as me when I was younger was amazingly liberating. Sharing it with thousands is, well, mind blowing. Even though I’m locked already, Locktober is a celebration of chastity and I plan on cheering on my fellow locked boys.

To all my fellow locked men, those who hold the keys, and those who appreciate them, you have inspired me and given me the strength to live my truth. Stay strong, stay locked, and happy Locktober.


The First Fist: A Tale of a Talented Top with a Tight Ass

It’s no secret that Tripp is a fisting bottom. Over the years, I have become a very good fisting Top. I’ve fisted guys long before I met Tripp. We met because fisting was on the menu, and I’ve subsequently had a great deal of time and practice to develop my technique.

There’s a group of men who meet for fisting parties semi-regularly that we attend. Most guys who attend are bottoms and Tops are fairly rare and much sought after. Given my prowess, I was always kept very busy. I was up to my elbows in asses. I always been a bit jealous of the pleasure the bottoms were having and very much admired those who could stretch easily. Some of these men could take two fists, and they always were howling with ecstasy while doing it. Now, I like a good cock in my ass, but it was tight, particularly back then. I could barely imagine one hand in me, let alone two.

Eventually, I decided I wanted more than cock in my ass. I wanted to finally take a fist. I’ve had some large toys in me, but after a certain size, they just seem to not go in. One evening, I was attending the party by myself. I don’t remember why Tripp wasn’t there. I talked to several of the men about what I wanted. Dave was another Top with a great deal of experience. He volunteered to “pop my cherry”. I got into one of the slings and Dave lubed me and his hand up very thickly. Dave has medium hands.

He was extremely patient with me. He would push me a little further each time he entered me. He spent about an hour stretching my hole and talking me through everything he was doing. Finally, he had four fingers in me easily. As he started to push his hand in me, I tensed immediately. He backed off and had me relax and breathe. “You just have to want it”, he said. I wanted it, but I just didn’t think my pelvis was wide enough. It felt like he was hitting bone. He wasn’t, he assured me. “Just breathe” he kept saying as his hand went slowly into my ass. “Breathe”, he said as I started to tense up. I did and relaxed. I could feel his hand sliding ever so slowly deeper into me. “Keep breathing”, he said. “You’re almost there”. I did as he said and kept relaxing my body. He talked to me the entire time. “Breathe in”, he told me. I did. “Now exhale”. As I was breathing out. his fist slipped all the way inside me.

At first, it felt too big. My immediate reaction was to try and push it out. I could barely control the spasms. “Keep breathing and it will pass”, Dave told me. It did pass. I got accustomed to the feeling of a fist inside me. Dave slowly started to pull out and then push back in, loosening my hole over time. Eventually, his hand went in and out easily.

Jerry walked over and was watching the scene. He has larger hands than Dave, which I noticed since he was putting gloves on them. Dave stepped away and Jerry took his place. Jerry repeated the process Dave took me through, though it went far more quickly and his hand was in me before I knew it. Eventually all the guys were standing around the sling watching me take Jerry’s fist.

After the two of them had officially popped my cherry, I needed a break. I’d just had my first fists and I was sore. The other men were all smiling and laughing. I thought something was wrong, so I asked if everything was okay. Then they chuckled again. “Guess we’re going to need to find a new Top”, one of them said. “Guess you’re right”, I replied.

I still like to fist, but now I’m equally likely to be in the sling as I am to be in front of it. Now if I could just get two fists in…


Leather and Naïveté

I was a student until I was 26 years old and money was always tight. A big night out was a cheesesteak wit, so I didn’t own much in the way of gear. I used to go occasionally to the Bike Stop, the leather bar in Philly, and was always envious of the leather clad men. I owned a pair of boots and a jacket, so even though they had a dress code, I could get by.

I moved to LA when I got my first job and started going to the Eagle and began to accumulate my first pieces of gear. Behind the bar was a leather shop run by a man apparently well known in the bdsm community. I don’t remember his name or the name of the shop, but I understand that he was a serious player (I didn’t know that at the time). I heard he passed away some years later and there is (or was) a memorial to him at the Faultline.

I was actually a bit nervous walking into the shop. I wanted to get kitted out with chaps, a jock, a harness, vest, and a few other items. I was a bit overwhelmed by all the items available. I was the only customer in the store and the owner took me into the large workroom. There was bondage equipment and several whips hanging from a rack. There was a St Andrew’s cross in the corner. He fitted me for chaps and a bar vest. He made some complimentary remarks about my body and my package as he fitted me. He then brought out a number of harnesses. I wanted a full body one. He picked one that he thought would suit me. He asked me to strip so he could fit the harness. I didn’t think anything of it. It was a full body harness, so I did as he requested. Pretty soon, My jeans were around my ankles and he was fitting the harness to me.

Eventually, he remarked that he thought he shouldn’t sell it to me unless my chest and pubes were shaved. I giggled nervously. Then he mentioned he would be happy to tie me up and shave me. He kept saying how good I would look shaved. He also thought a collar would look good on me. I hemmed and hawed and pretended it was just a joke. He was kind of a hot Daddy but I was young and naive. This is the way porn stories start, but I didn’t get that he was coming on to me. He made the shaving comment several times. I didn’t pick up that he was flirting. I could have played the situation out and probably had a very interesting afternoon and a really good story, but I didn’t. I just blushed and laughed it off. I mean, I’m virtually naked, in a harness, surrounded by gear and restraints (his shop was also his playroom, I believe). I didn’t walk in there expecting anything other than buying my first gear, so I was not in the mindset that anything else was on the table. I was also still fairly inexperienced, having spent the previous 26 years essentially in school full time and there not being the internet (yeah, I’m that old). All I had was my limited experience. If I knew then what I know now, I’d have probably walked out of there several hours later, smooth, used, and bruised.

He did eventually fit the harness on me and he did try a collar around my neck, with plenty of innuendo, none of which I picked up on. I still have that harness, which sadly doesn’t fit anymore. I mean, I was young and tight with long brown hair and a 28 inch waist. I was kinda hot in my youth (alright, I was hot back then).

I think about that now and again (probably through rose-colored glasses). I wonder what could have happened. I think it would have been memorable, but I don’t know. I think of things I wished I had said, with the benefit of experience and hindsight. I was young and really naive at that time. It wasn’t until I moved to the Bay Area a year later that I started to come into my own. I wonder what might have happened. It might have been an amazing experience, or it might have been awful. I’ll never know.


Another Anniversary of a Sort

2 years ago next month, Tripp and I were in Lisbon. I had just received my first metal cage (a Steelworxx) before we left. I’d been living in plastic up until that point. I wore the plastic on the flight over and put on the new cage when we arrived. All seemed well that evening. Tripp liked it. He called me his “man of steel”. I loved it. The steel had a heft that was lacking in the plastic cage. It felt so much more solid.

We spent the next day walking all around Lisbon. It’s truly a beautiful city. By the end of the day, something was just not quite right around my junk. The more we walked, the more painful it became. I powered through for quite some time until I just couldn’t take it anymore. We grabbed an Uber back to the hotel where I immediately pulled off my pants and Tripp gave my cock and balls the once over. It seems the base ring had chafed me quite severely during the day. The ring seemed fine initially, but the walking caused a significant abrasion. File that under “what not to do in a new cage”.

Tripp got the key and unlocked me. As he removed the steel tube, my previously denied cock sprang to full attention. I was so hard that there was no way that cockring was coming off, and it really needed to come off. My free range cock is a little over 7 inches and pretty thick when fully aroused, and right then it was as hard as a rock, with the aforementioned now very tight cock ring only making it swell more and more. If it hadn’t been so painful, it would have been a glorious sight. The pain, however, did nothing to diminish my erection. In fact, it made it harder.

Tripp knew there was only one way to get my cock soft at that point. Being the dutiful husband, Tripp put his mouth around said rock and proceeded to blow me. Tripp has very talented orifices, and he swallowed my very hard manhood down to my balls. You all remember I married a total bottom? I know it doesn’t seem like he is now, but he was, trust me. It wasn’t long before my eyes were rolling back in my head and I was unleashing a torrent of come down his throat. As my cock started to deflate, we were finally able to get the ring off. He left me unlocked that night.

The next morning, things looked better but Tripp decided that I was going to go back to the plastic cage until the ring issue was sorted with the steel. After a few emails back and forth with the manufacturer, we realized the ring was too small and I ordered a larger size, which resolved the issue, eventually. I stayed in plastic until we got home. Being rather new to long term lockage, I didn’t realize that the size ring you can wear without a cage is a fair bit smaller than one you can wear with a cage. I learned that lesson the hard way, if you’ll pardon the pun.

The reason I’m writing about this isn’t to gripe about my ring error, the wound, or to regale you with tales of Tripp’s very talented mouth. It’s because that was actually the last blowjob I have had. I stayed locked for the rest of that year and was only released for a few hours at New Year’s because Tripp wanted to be fucked by my actual penis (something he has evidently gotten over since the strap-on arrived). I’ve been locked since with only caged orgasms here and there, and it has been recently decided that, if I’m ever allowed an orgasm again, it will be caged. Unless something radically changes (and I honestly don’t see that happening), that was the last blow job I’ll ever have. Even though the reason for it was unfortunate, I’m glad it was such a good one.



We all have sexual dreams and fantasies, and I have my share. One of my biggest fantasies came (mostly) true; to be a slave to a Master. In my head, I’d be a 24/7/365 slave, not the part time slave I am, but what I do have is pretty damn good. I’m not sure I could really be a full time slave, but then again, maybe I could. The other dream that has completely come true is to be locked 24/7/365. I always wondered what that would be like and if I could really do it, and now I know. It’s amazing and I can totally do it, because I am doing it.

I think most fantasies are better in your head than in reality. Still, there are some I’d love to see happen. Almost all of mine involve groups of men using me. One in particular has me strapped down to a rotating table with my ass hanging off one end and my face off the other. There are 10 or so men standing around the table and as I am rotated, their cocks are placed in my mouth and ass. As each pair comes in me, I’m rotated to the next. I get hard just thinking about it, which I suppose is the point.

Another one is a kidnap fantasy. I’m abducted and knocked out only to wake up bound, hooded and gagged in a cell with a massive (as in the biggest you can imagine and then add 10%) plug in my ass. My captors are unknown, but as I rouse, I am taken by them to a dungeon where I am forced to please them. I can’t see them but I can smell the leather they wear and the musk of the cocks, pits, and asses I am forced to serve. The only water I get is their piss and the only food is their come. Eventually, after they are done with me, I’m left by the roadside, well used, naked, locked, and still plugged.

As you can tell, most of my fantasies involve me being used, but not all. I have one where I am the leather clad dungeon master selecting boys to either serve or be put to work doing manual labor. They have to prove to me they are worth serving or they get sent to the mines, so to speak. I test them by whipping them or otherwise torturing them. My Top self has fantasies as well.

These are jerk off stuff (not that I can jerk off anymore), and I highly doubt they would be as enjoyable in reality as they are in my mind. In my head, my knees don’t get stiff after I’ve been kneeling for hours, plugs don’t irritate, nothing hurts (except what’s supposed to) etc. Still, I’d take them as an idea to build a real experience around. Maybe it’s not the literal fantasy, but it’s first cousin. I’d like to experience something similar, if not exact.

My fantasies mostly serve to get me hard in my cage. I can’t jerk off anymore, but I still have them and I enjoy the desire they create in me. Even though I can’t come from them, I still want them to come true (mostly). Interestingly, I’m locked in all my fantasies. I suppose that’s just how my brain sees me now. I have a lot more that I won’t go into, but you get the gist. So clearly, fantasy plays more of a role than just to jerk off to, because I have them fairly often. In fact, since I’ve been locked, I’ve had some of the most vivid sex dreams of my life. My cock may be benched, but my brain is as active as ever.


You Gotta Do What You Gotta Do

After a couple of weeks of zero, the horniness is coming back. This time it wasn’t Covid related, but vaccine induced. Every year for the last 25 years, I’ve gotten an influenza shot. I actually got influenza in the mid-90’s, and let me tell you, while I was a healthy 30 year old, I don’t think I’ve ever been that sick in my life. High fever, muscle pain so bad I couldn’t move, a cough that wouldn’t quit, and bad stuff coming out of every orifice in my body. I know why people die from this. I was down for the better part of a week. Never wanting to experience that again, I’ve gotten my flu shot every year since. Usually, my arm is sore for a day or two. This year’s was different. I felt like crap. My arm was sore, but I also got muscle aches and chills. It was literally 110 degrees outside and I was sitting in a fleece and a blanket and shivering. Thankfully, that only lasted about 24 hours, but it took almost a week to feel better. Tripp got his a few days later and didn’t have any side effects

Now, because I am of a certain age, I had to get the Shingles vaccine. I waited a week after the flu shot. I’ve been told the side effects are unpleasant, but far less so than getting shingles. So I got it. My arm got very, very sore, but that was about it. Tripp got his too, but he got the side effects like I had with the flu shot, and he’s been feeling off for the last week.

So, we spent the last two weeks being rather achy and less than interested in sex. Getting older sucks, but the alternative is worse. We are just emerging on the other side and starting to both feel human again.

My horniness returned with a vengeance the other day, but sadly Tripp’s has not. My cage has been particularly tight of late. It was time to take matters into my own hands, so to speak. I pillaged the toy drawer for my favorite prostate massager. I haven’t had an orgasm in months and haven’t had any other form of relief in weeks. I attacked my ass and prostate with a vengeance and was quickly rewarded with a copious amount of delicious non-dairy penile beverage and a general feeling of some release. Clearly, my prostate needed some attention and I made quite the mess (which I licked up happily). I haven’t bothered to put that toy away, because it’s going back in at least once a day until Tripp is feeling better.

Even though Tripp has been amazingly disciplined about denying my orgasm and he’s been good about milking me fairly regularly, we went quite a while and I do need that toy in me fairly often. So, until he’s feeling up to it, I’ll just have to continue to take that matter into my own hands. It’s far less fun than when Tripp milks me, but sometimes you just gotta do what you gotta do:


To Tripp On Our 2 Year Chastity Anniversary

I’ll never forget our first date. I took you to that hole in the wall by the beach. I’m surprised both of us survived that experience, and even more surprised you agreed to a second date. I know we’ve been back to that place a few times, for laughs. I guess it will always be “our place”, at least until it’s condemned by the health department.

I don’t remember what we did on our second date. Chinese maybe? I do remember kissing you for the first time. On our next date, we went to the Eagle in full gear together. I introduced you to the penis and you sucked me off and swallowed my come. It was our first leather sex.

I met you at your place for our forth date. You had a sling set up and met me in nothing but your chaps and Wescos. You sucked me and then climbed into the sling. I fucked you for the first time, and then you took my fist. In fact, you took my arm almost to the elbow. You came hard when I fisted you. We spent our first night together. I fucked you again the next morning. As I was leaving, you told me you loved me. I wasn’t quite ready to say it back. I told you while I could be monogamous with my heart, I wasn’t with my dick. You kissed me and told me that was fine with you. I told you more about Sir and the other boys I played with. You were happy I had that.

We went on our first long weekend away not long after that. We both tested negative a few days before. You told me not to bother bringing condoms. You wore my collar and called me Sir. I fucked you and I came in you for the first time. Yours was the first ass I’d filled with come in ages. You kept saying “yeah, fuck your boy” every time I penetrated you. You loved being fucked. You had a hungry hole. If I recall correctly, I fucked my boy multiple times that weekend. I told you that I loved you too. I don’t think we’ve really been apart since. We’ve lived, travelled, skied, dived and played together. We’ve been to Folsom and IML together. We’ve cruised for playmates together. We built a playroom. We’ve laughed and cried together, always together.

Those first years are a blur of love, three-ways, fisting parties, s/m, blow jobs and fucking. I don’t think we went a day without sex. I’d come home, pull down your pants, and fuck you before you could say hello. You came every time I fucked or fisted you. I asked you to marry me. You said yes.

The health problems started to show up not long after we married. Your body began betraying you and you hated that. Our sex life gradually became a shadow of what it had been. I didn’t fuck or fist you much anymore. The kink disappeared. You stopped wearing your gear. I started to feel embarrassed about wearing mine. It happened so insidiously that I didn’t notice until I became self conscious about wanting sex when you didn’t or couldn’t. Days became weeks became months. My love never decreased, but that physical connection diminished. I turned to porn and masturbation. I stopped playing with boys because it felt like cheating. Eventually, I realized something had to change, there had to be a way to reignite the passion, so 2 years ago today, I asked you to lock my dick.

I sat before you with a plastic cage on my dick. It wasn’t easy. I’d been your Sir for 10 years. I was terrified. But far more important than being your Sir, I wanted to be your lover again. I wanted to share my fascination with chastity with you. I wanted to find something we could do together again. It’s always been about that, about the together. I remember the first time we went out after I was caged. As we sat down to dinner with friends, you gave my caged cock a squeeze. That was a thrill. Since then, we’ve gone from plastic to steel to titanium, each cage a little better, and you’ve been there all along, encouraging and supporting me. You’ve watched over my cock, always making sure I’m okay. Every new cage got a trial. We learned what worked and what didn’t, together. Eventually, we picked out my forever cage.

At first, you locked me because it made me happy. You’ve always done things to make me happy. Slowly, so slowly, you grew to want me locked. I’ve watched you grow as a Dom. I’ve watched you embrace owning my caged cock. You sometimes surprise me by how aggressive you can be. I want you to know I want more of that aggression. I love it. When you finally took my cock for good, telling me you will never unlock me and forever denying me a non-caged orgasm, it took my breath away. You hinted that even caged orgasms would be few and far between, or maybe never. You’ve replaced the sadness and disappointment I felt when I couldn’t use my cock to fuck you with the crazy, horny teasing and frustration of not be allowed to use my cock. I fell in mad crazy love all over again. I’ve never not loved you, but I didn’t know I could love you even more until that day. That Tripp amazes me and I want more of him.

You beat my balls. You collar and plug me. You milk my prostate. You put large dildos up my ass. All the skills you learned training your ass are being put to use on mine. You’ve learned how to flog and paddle me, and you do it now because you like it. There’s a fire in you. You’re lit from the inside and it casts its glow all around. I see your eyes sparkle when you make me squirm. You make my caged dick hard, so very hard. I want to go with you on whatever journey that side of you wants to take. I love you. My fist and the strap ons are ready anytime you want them. In the meantime, yeah, fuck your locked boy.