A bit of a Q&A from some questions that have come to Master’s inbox recently.

  1. Jack, what advice, if any, would you give to men (like myself) in my 30’s hoping to one day be an owned sub/slave?

Advice? I’m not so sure I am qualified to give advice. I could give you a list of reasons why, but I’ll spare you that. Honestly, I am not sure that I ever had the desire to be owned. I only had a few friends in my kink world and, through them, explored Dom, sub, and my Switchy parts (all to varying degrees) but never thought I would be a slave. I had an idea of what I thought I wanted, but it never really included total, or really even partial, ownership of me. I really only thought I might have some hot scenes now and again and that was about all I ever imagined it would be, especially as a single parent. 

Then, somehow, I met two men that ultimately love me for who I am, what I am, and make me proud to be those things all while encouraging me to grow in all parts of my world. As they encouraged me, my slave side came out and, truth be told, I am the one who told Drew I wanted to be his slave and be owned. I was as surprised as he was. This new world and those feelings gave me a world which is now better than I’ve ever had before. There is unconditional love that is given and received in three different directions (or some mathematical degree thereof). Trust is a big aspect of it. None of this works without trust and communication (I am still learning to be a better communicator). It isn’t perfect at all times, but we work.

I guess my advice would be to be open minded. Look for trust and go from there. Again, I didn’t go about with intentions of being owned, but here I am, owned and proud of it. My Master and Daddy are worthy of my submission, and I’d like to think I am worthy of them, as well. In a sense, I am owned, but they belong to me as much as I belong to them, it’s just different types of belonging.

2. For Jack, in a recent tweet you mentioned all the ways your Master “transforms you” – what did you mean by that?

My Master knows my mind. We are very much alike in many ways, and different enough in others. He reads me, my body language, my tone, my demeanor, even my mind at times, it might appear. So, after a stressful day, he can read than I need his pain, time under the desk, or a list of other things. I can feel my mindset change with him. My mind switches on or off depending on the situation at hand. My senses heighten. My chemistry changes. I can be his object, his slave, his animalistic beast, his maid, his desk, his chair, his fleshlight, or I can be his best friend, his boyfriend, his other partner in life. I play many roles as does he. I guess what I am trying to say is that it isn’t only one sided, for us. We both benefit from my service and his ownership of his slave in lots of ways.

3. What is different about how you are treated by your Daddy and Master?

Well, Daddy is definitely the caregiver. My service to him looks quite different than my service to Master. Sometimes serving Daddy looks like me laying across his lap while he rubs out the knots in my neck or back and we both just switch off the brain. Part of me thinks I’d starve to death if it were Master who had to do the cooking. Daddy loves to cook and is a damn fine one, at that. He gets joy from taking care of me, in a sense. He gets needs met differently than Master. However, Daddy does oversee Master and I. He gets to have the final say in things that Master can and cannot do to or with me at times. Goddamn, that fucking makes me swoon.

That is not to say that Master doesn’t care for me and show me affection. In fact, it is quite the opposite. That care is just delivered in a manner than tends to leave marks more often than Daddy’s care does.

4. Any advice on how to stay plugged 24/7?

Practice makes perfect. Listen to your body, and always have a plan in the event you can’t carry the plug. A good diet, fiber, water, etc. help with the biological aspects. I promise you that once you start, the emptiness of not being plugged is far more to get used to than being filled.

5. Does your Master loan you out? If so, can I borrow you from your Master?

Well, it isn’t off the table, but the short answer is you have to ask Master. Because I know and trust him, and I know he truly wants me safe and protected, what he decides is the answer. But he hasn’t yet. So, given no other information, the answer is probably not unless you happen to be part of the inner circle. He is very type-A. You’d have to pass his requirements and those would likely be pretty steep.

6. How is being a real slave different than porn?

There is more of a relationship than you’d ever see in porn. Some of the hottest most amazing parts of being a slave are the boring, daily things. When we know what the other is thinking. When we are just quiet and close to each other. Those are probably the most swoon-inducing times when power is taken and given in such a way that it is just us being.

I don’t eat out of a bowl on the floor at every meal. I ask for permission for most things, but the list of things I am allowed to choose on my own is growing smaller. Our version of life includes jobs and friends and family of all sorts. As much as being chained to my Master 24/7 is an idea that fills a certain titanium tube more than you could possibly imagine, I still have responsibilities to others. He absolutely loves that I am well trained that I can interact with the muggle world and still be owned in such a way that others see it, but they just have no clue.

7. What do you miss about being un-owned?

Now that is a hard question. I like to think I’d say I miss what most would consider a traditional orgasm. To be honest, the “orgasms” I have now are much more intense than any I’ve ever had before. The connection I have now is unlike anything ever before. So, I guess the answer is that I don’t really miss anything from my un-owned life. There is just nothing that was so amazing about it that I’d want it back.

8. I know you mention having a child and never mention details so I am trying to respect that, but how can you be a slave and be a Dad?

It is just who I am. It is me. There is life outside of my collar that continues. 

9. What’s Drew like in real life that is not shown on the blog?

He’s the most amazing man you’d ever meet. He’s taller than you’d expect, thick, and strong. He is a ginger with the most fascinated blue/green eyes that light up when he spanks me. He has a huge heart and a smile that makes me melt. He’s a type-A driven personality and a pretty bad ass executive as I often hear while under his desk. But, he may literally be the most tender hearted man I know. Just don’t tell him I realize it.

10. What’s next for you?

Big plans, as always. No ejaculation, well, until or if Master decides. Some health and fitness goals for the year. Some kinky goals for the year. Possibly a beta slave to help with my duties and as an outlet for some of my more dominant tendencies. Regardless, growing closer and closer to Master and Daddy and being used as a tool to support and care for these two is my goal, always and (sappy alert) until forever. 

Fuck, did I mention how much serving them makes me better ?

One of my favorite places in the world is my Master’s quads, I mean sitting on his lap, with my legs wrapped around a body that feels like electricity pulsing through us when I touch him. It’s not a place that is earned without an appropriate admission fee. That takes service. 

My days of switchy fantasies actually being a reality have changed over the last few years. While there are times I just want to dominate some hottie I saw a picture of or had a chat with, or crossed his profile somewhere, I’m taken back to those times I’ve done that before, and in comparison to now, they seem quite shallow. Not that they had no meaning or there was no friendship there, but there wasn’t a connection like i have found with Master and Daddy. There is love, there is friendship, there is a real, intense and also very very “normal” relationship there. That’s what makes the kinky stuff everybody wants to hear about AND the “normal” stuff nobody really wants to hear about so fucking amazing!  It is, well, it is REAL. 

So on to the kinky stuff everybody wants to hear about. I have had a rough few weeks at work, we all have, I think. I NEEDED and CRAVED being closer to my Master. I all but begged him to give me his pain. I was doing a poor job of trying to hide the hunger in my eyes and the leaking titanium tube as I asked him to hurt me, to mark me, to leave a visual reminder and a soreness with me that would last all week long while he traveled for work. But those things keep me feeling closer when we geographically can’t be close. And well, I’m a pervert that happens to drive some of his inner pervert. We play this game of are you sure and yes Master, I think so. That may be due to our seemingly innate craving for denial and the energy it produces in the air and the heightened mental and physical reactions to it. 

I took my Master’s pain. As the pain and burning inflicted on my nipples left a throbbing soreness that has lasted for at least 3 days now.

I smiled, because I could see his sadistic (swoon inducing AF, I might add) grin spread across his face. I went upstairs and  looked over at the impact implements chosen for me earlier the day- The rubber pain stick, a studded “tenderizer” wooden paddle, a steel paddle, and Master’s favorite leather paddle. I waited on my knees, hands behind my back, head down. I heard Master coming up the stairs and I pulsed with each step he took. 

Over the side of the tub, is where I was ordered to assume my position. Ass up, legs spread like Master likes them. Hands flat on the floor of the tub. He asked if I was sure I wanted it, that I was sure I needed it.

We know I gave a hearty yes Master, in response. We discussed what taking his pain means to us both. We discussed pushing limits. I knew this was going to hurt. As the implements cycled through rotation, my body was tense, warm, sweaty, burning, tingling, and the filled titanium tube bounced with my heartbeat. The tube leaked as I felt my master working over his slave’s body. Sharing His pain with me. Allowing me the privilege to make him proud to be the receiver of the gift of his pain. That makes me proud, too. 

I wasn’t sure if I could take more. Then I caught a glimpse of the pure joy in Master’s eyes and the grin— swoon. Goddamnit, I know he knows how much I can’t resist him, but part of me still wants to believe my eager giddy-ness isn’t so blatantly fucking obvious. My body betrays me, as I shake in the pure pleasure of taking Masters pain. 

When I can take no more, Master takes me to the bedroom. Still reeling from the pain and the pleasure, he tells me how proud I make him taking his pain. I grin. I want to cry, not because it hurts, but because he sees me for me in that instant. And his eyes sparkle and his grin melts my heart. He sits in the floor motions for me to give him one leg and then the other. I’m a spent mess of so much good right then and there. I straddle my Master’s lap. I feel his wet leaking cock against my body. I lean into him. I let every part of my being rest on my Master (and Maybe grind my still plugged ass against him). He holds me. He rubs my body. He bites me, leaving a bruise because he knows I love seeing it in the mirror in the mornings. We talk about how the marks will look, evolve and change that we put on his slave’s body that day. We discuss how they will look when he comes back from work travel in a week. We discuss life, love, us. My world in a nutshell is completely held by MY Master, all of me, there on his fucking beautiful sexy quads, I mean sitting there in his lap. That’s beautiful. The relationship, the pain, the totality of encompassing, unconditional pervert man love. He makes me happy. 

I sit here tonight, waiting for our usual call. I admire the marks that are evolving on my thighs, my ass, my hips, my arms, and other places. I feel closer to my Master. I know he feels closer to me, too. I’m thankful for him in so many ways, but I’m thankful that pain plays a part in bringing us closer and closer. I hope it is never close enough because the process of trying for enough is amazing.

Happy MAL weekend. No, we are not there because, well, we just didn’t schedule right and the older I get the less I like crowds, so for those of you there, we are with you in spirit and hope you have an amazing time.

I think you all know that Jack decided to forego his 2022 orgasm and now has something like 350 days before he will even have to worry about that again. By that point he will be well over 1,000 days locked which is damn impressive and also scary to think about how fast it goes. As I said in the post about it and he said in his, I wanted this decision to be 100% his as I either pretended so well that I fooled myself or I truly didn’t care. His devotion to his service is already so strong that I knew one orgasm would not change that. But, I also get the need for a personal goal and to go as far as one can. Jack is competitive as fuck and a bit of a perfectionist, so I know what is driving him with that too. And, with his decision to not have one and the resolution I saw in his eyes when he made that call just made me both respect him even more and I had a feeling of pride so deep inside that it made me swoon a bit more than I already do when I think about him and his dedication to service.

All of this, and a few other events of late, have made me think a lot about subs and slaves and how much admiration I have for them in so many ways. As I write this, Jack is chained under my desk treating my legs to a delightful massage and, from the look on his face when I look down, he is having such a good time. I admire him for that because he is just home from the hospital and has put everything “away” so that he can focus on his slave self, a task of compartmentalization that I am rarely, if at all, ever able to do. I am so proud for and of him that it just makes me smile.

Additionally, over the last few weeks I have had the pleasure of having coffee or dining with four other men who are in relationships where they are the submissive of the house, the slave of a Mistress, the slave of a Master, or the sub boy training to be a slave under their husband/Master. In all cases, these men are skilled and powerful when they are allowed clothes. In the bunch there is a surgeon, a lawyer, an electrician, and a C-suite executive who uses a lot of big words (when he’s not gagged) with the word “acquisition” being used frequently. In all of these cases, these guys are self assured men who run the show yet they go to work locked in a chastity cage with a plug in their ass “carrying” their Master or Mistress with them wherever they go. To them, it’s normal day to day operations when outside their houses yet all strip down and collar up at home where they are able to step into the world that brings them joy, peace, and disciplined pleasure. One day I hope to officially interview them all and write a book about them that will be designed to show, teach, and train other men (or women) that submission equals pride, peace and power in ways that those of us who are not wired that way would likely not ever understand. These men have found and, most importantly, accepted themselves as a submissive partner in a relationship and though some like to be called less than or reminded of what they can’t do, they all deep down know that submission is strength and I find their acceptance of themselves and the need within them so fucking sexy that I also have to add that submission is sexy too.

I know that I don’t represent most of what we see on Twitter and the like and I am sure there are many subs and Doms that thrive on those type relationships, but for those that think like me, give your sub a hug today and thank them for their service. Then, immediately thereafter, of course, make their ass glow to show them how proud you are.

Like each year before, I have had the opportunity to choose whether I wanted my previously agreed to annual orgasm. See, years ago when I gave my penis to my Master, he told me that I could have one orgasm a year on either Christmas or New Year’s Eve and I agreed to that whole heartedly. That was as scary to me as it was hot and never did I even think, at that time, that Master would ask me each year whether I wanted the orgasm or whether I wanted to forego it as a testament to my service. And, if I had thought about it, I cannot imagine I would ever say no.

Fast forward, a third holiday season has passed with my Master’s slave locked in a cage, free of the burdens of worrying about a typical orgasm. Apparently, a locked cock is a happy cock, just like my grandma used to say.

The last two years I chose to forego it and, this year, when Master reminded me it was time to make the choice, I truly thought about it and took each of the comments made on the post to heart. Master promised me he had no say in this and that he would be happy for my decision either way – after reminding me that the orgasm would not be from my hand and that I would be relocked immediately, of course.

I had a choice. A choice that he would be proud of regardless. A choice that not just any old slave would be allowed. I can’t pinpoint the exact moment in time that I made it, but I made the decision rather quickly. I have had a few conversations about the choice, the gift of choice. the burden of choice for a slave and the burden of a making that choice for my Master. These were all done while balancing the ideas surrounding how a chaste slave should be treated and/or what actually defined a chaste slave.

The overwhelming factor in this decision is the fact, as I have said 2,000 times, is that I have found that I tend to thrive through denial – mentally, physically, and emotionally. I am a better man, dad, boyfriend, slave, boy, best friend, pet, nurse, and fireman than I ever imagined I could be three years ago – or ever really. These things all drove my decision.

In the end, as no surprise, I decided to forego the 2022 orgasm again and will not have to worry about this decision for at least 363 more days. What clinched it? Well, that was a conversation with my Master yesterday when we were out running errands, that I found sums it up quite nicely. I mentioned to him that my ass is sore and legs are still sore from the other day when he stretched me to get inside quite deeply and that those two things had made my tube full each and every time I thought about those moments. The thought of this soreness was making my slave dick leak and that every time I squeeze the plug I constantly carry, I hope that squeeze finds its way to Master to help make his dick rock hard too, wherever he is. I do anything I can to make him happy and, when allowed, my biggest priority is helping him have the most amazing orgasm he can have due to my service to him.

These things all added u and, in the end, I realized that I love when he shares his orgasm with me and I am always so proud I helped make it special for him. So, with that, why would I need my own orgasm when his is so amazing for both of us?

Happy Boxing Day, all. While it’s a not a holiday we celebrate in the US and has become more akin to Black Friday elsewhere, it is still a named day and it sure as fuck sounds better than a regular “happy Monday” that we have a chance of hearing 52 times more after today before starting another year. Axel and I are back from a week in the desert with friends which was an amazing time, but we both missed the boy and we also missed what would have been our first white Christmas at home. Until his kid grows up a bit more we want him to never miss a holiday where they can be together, so separate trips will have to suffice until then. But, for now, we are back and the world is right as he is under my desk as I type this happy as he can be (as am I too.)

Anyway, if you are a long time follower you will know that once a year I give Jack the option of whether he wants to ejaculate on New Year’s Day, which will serve as his orgasm for the year, or decline his chance as a tribute to the training he has and continues to receive. There is no wrong answer as this annual choice is his and almost the only one he will ever get when it comes to his penis and ass, aside from those rare days I let him choose whichever plug he wants to carry that day though I sometimes make him double the size if he picks too small. On January 1, 2021, he decided against coming, though that was only about his third month in chastity and I am not sure he thought I was as serious as I turned out to be. On January 1, 2022, he also chose to not partake in the pleasure as he decided that another year locked would only help him grow in his slave role and I can honestly attest that it has. He was very aware that he was giving up an entire year to the titanium in his pants, but he owned that and, from what I have gathered, does not regret it, though I will admit to not having ever asked him if how he feels about it one way or another now, as it doesn’t matter to me anymore honestly as the decision was made. Also, I am a bit worried that if he did regret it, I’d probably like it so much that I might not be so kind now to remember his 2023 choice but I digress.

The 2023 choice will be presented to him today and he has until 6pm on New Year’s Eve to tell me his decision. As I mentioned, I will not feel like I failed if he says he wants it or not, as he has exceeded all wishes in the chastity area that I had specified for him. And, just to be clear, if he did chose to come, this would not be ruined or through the cage or anything of the sort as he has earned it. We would do our best to make it as sexy, hot, romantic and down right dirty as he would want it as that time, unlike everything else with us, is for him (and a bit Axel who really wants to see him come).

So, the next post will be Jack having decided, explaining why he agreed to another full year locked in my cage or why he wanted to reset the clock with the one, amazing, orgasm he has earned.

Curiously, what would you do in this situation? What advice would you give Jack?

He will see you Sunday with a full report of his 30 minutes of pleasure or sooner with this denial of his right.

Again, Happy Boxing Day.

One of the things that fuels my Master’s slave is service. At home, we have protocols. That is service. Service takes on many forms for many different people for many different things. I think one of the most amazing things that a master can do is show off the training to others indicating that the the master is proud of the training he has given the slave. Additionally, the slave is proud to show his skill to others, not because he was able to learn from training, but because it is a skill his master has trained him to perform. In essence, it is a showing of the master’s skill, the skill to train a slave. It is so amazing for the slave because it is in reality a showing off of the masters ability. My slave brain says my Master has chosen to train this slave, lock away his dick, and lots of other things. I’m just serving him. Maybe that was convoluted, but the short of it is that the slave does not view this as showing himself off, but he is showing off his Master skills as well.

Anyway, if you are still following me after that cold intro, let me share from where that came.

Last week, Master and I arrived in the land of all things Maple. We met up with Mr. and Mrs. Steelwerks for dinner and a new client of theirs whom we had not met yet. Dinner, drinks, and new friends were had. As we problem solved the latest crisis in the world, conversation moved toward the place where awesome kink people often go; perversion but in only the best sense of the word. For us that sounded something like leather, restraints, beautiful titanium cock cages, DIY dungeon upgrades, and the best place to get some high quality special order sleep sacks. We talked about family dynamics in our relationship versus other more “traditional” kink relationships work. We talked about jobs, family, pets, friends. It was normal, but also perverse.  At some point, an arrangement was made with short but mighty Mrs. S in which my Master would turn the reigns over to her the following day to take the slave for a spin, so to speak. 

My cage filled, and I hit a sub space there in the restaurant. It was all I could do not to take off these fucking itchy clothes and sit under the table at my Master’s feet. He is just going to turn over his slave, his property to another person. He knows I have worked hard at training, and the fact that he is using me to show himself off too. Of course, I should state this was all non sexual service and I was being “given” to someone he has known for years who he trusts explicitly. For that reason, I never blinked at the thought of being sent away to train.

Later that night, I tried to get close enough to my Master as I served him. I slept soundly touching my Master and being excited about my upcoming day as a loaned object. When we arrived at the dungeon of our kink family, we chatted about life as we discussed the day’s plans, talked about food, discussed which cage needed polishing and stared at lots of little s screws. As we were talking about  some new pieces of gear to try, Master finally said, “I need to go get one email sent, tugged on my invisible leash, and handed me to Mrs. S. Minutes later, as the hood covering my eyes was tightened, I saw the last sight I saw my Master step away to go put out whatever work fire there was that hour, but I knew he’d be back to help and, even if he didn’t get back, I basked in the comfort, safety and sexiness that is Mrs. S.

Almost immediately, I felt the leather restraints tighten against my body. Mrs. S methodically restricted this slave’s movement more and more. I relaxed in the trust my Master had given to her and easily slipped into that space of darkness, restriction and hypnotic recreation. It wasn’t long before I could hear Master’s voice in the room as I was pulled up to my knees. I felt the tit toys apply pressure. I could hear them discussing how the slave was being used, as if I were an inanimate object in the center of the room. I felt the sting of the leather slapper make contact and, oddly, it gave a soothing, aching sting. Over and over, I could tell that I would continue to feel this for some time. I could sense my Master close to me, whispering in my ear, telling me how proud I made him. There was a pause in the spanking and the pressure on my tits was released. A moment of pain, a moment of pleasure. I felt the first swift impact of the cane across my chest. I groaned a bit with the bite of the cane. My nipples burned. I felt it again, and again. I took the pain. It hurt. This was going to remain with me for a while long after this moment and, I could not help but feel my face grin inside the leather hood.

My tits took a pounding. They throbbed. Mrs. S checked in with me. Knowing that I was okay, she told Master there was something new she wanted to try. I felt the pricking sting of the spikes around my nipples. My Master pushed them deeper into my skin and I know he was proud of the pain I took for him. I was spanked again. As the leather paddle and canes met my burning red cheeks, I grinned in my mask again, feeling the familiar feeling that told me I would have bruises for days to come. In fact, I wondered if I was actually stretching the leather smiling and then tried more so they’d see, but the giant gag limited me. All of this were small reminders of my service to my Master. Then, as my Master and Mrs. S took turns spanking and flogging me, my Master asked if I needed more. It was hard to talk, but we developed a system of hand signals for yes and no questions. As I signaled yes, my ass and legs soaked up the pain. As we collectively pushed limits, I asked for more and more pain, until I was physically spent. I think at that moment I both impressed and and empowered Mrs. S, something I know that led all three of us to be proud.

My Master and Mrs. S allowed the slave to have a break. As I was inspected and allowed to come down to a place I could more easily communicate, the gag was changed. I crawled to my Master as best as I could in my blinded state but I followed his voice and the heat his body produced. From out of blue, he grabbed my collar and pulled me up into his lap where I sat facing him. I felt his face with my hands. Although I couldn’t see him, I felt his body. I felt his face. I could see his beautiful eyes. I could feel the handsomeness of his face, the soothing feeling of his scruff, and I could feel the muscles of his face move, shaping his lips into a smile of approval. Although I couldn’t see him with my eyes, I could feel the look he was giving me with my hands. I could essentially see him by just feeling him. If ever a titanium cage was full, it was at this moment. I told my Master how much he meant to me through my gag and how amazing it was to have him show my training to others outside of our own home. I told him some other super sappy things that I’m sure had him rock hard and hopefully leaking. I relaxed into him and he relaxed into me. Of course, all he likely heard was “mmmph, grrr, lvvvvvv” since the gag was tight, but I knew that he knew what I was saying. This was one of the truest displays of love and bond in our relationship that anyone outside of the Axel, Drew, and I had probably ever seen, and luckily Mrs. S took some amazing photos that we will likely only ever share with the truest of friends (though I will post an edited one with this post).

Then, Mrs. S had a surprise in store. Daddy had gotten me some suspension boots, as he knows I has a huge fantasy for being suspended upside down, and those boots happened to have  had been packed for the trip and delivered to the dungeon. Master and the Lady Werks secured me into the boots and Mr. Steelwerks himself joined us to assist in working the hoists as I heard the clicking sound as my body lifted from the floor. The pain ensued for a bit longer. Mrs. S talked to me as she pushed my pain thresholds with the encouragement of my Master. At some point, after my hanging, she asked if it was okay if some two of their closest friends from out of town stopped by to meet us just for a few minutes. Now, a slave doesn’t really have a choice in such things, if my Master approves, but he did, so it didn’t matter what I thought really, but I did appreciate her asking. I trusted him. I was laid onto the floor, still hooded and gagged and, although I couldn’t see the two people who eventually met me naked clad in leather restraints, I could hear a distinctive regional accent that reminded me of how those of us from the southern US tend to talk a bit slower and suddenly compared my drawl to Drew’s and how we grew up 40 miles from each other but sound so different. It’s funny where one’s mind goes to as a gimp in the floor during a meeting.

However, the important part is that I met two people and talked with them for a second as just an owned piece of property belonging to my Master. I know this slave’s cock throbbed. While I didn’t see these two people until we all went out for dinner that night, I was seen for the first time in real life outside a very small circle, as my Master’s property, slave, object, as my Daddy’s beast. Sappy, horny, so fucking proud to be displayed as such, were the feelings I was experiencing and I honestly wished they would have come back to see more of me, though that would have been hard to do since there was little they had not already seen.

As we finished the session Master was the first one I saw when the hood came off. That face I felt was now looking at me. It looked just like it felt. Those beautiful eyes, that grin, that handsome face….I swooned a bit I am sure. Mrs. S thanked my Master for allowing her to use his property while I glowed with the pride of an owned, loved, slave. As a returned to a more normal head space, the S’s, my Master, and I discussed the day. What we all liked most and the least, and about what bruises would continue to show up where for the week to come. I continued internally swooning.

Mrs. S and I talked about life, HGTV, and my time at the Fire Academy learning to be a fireman on top of my other career while we put the gear away in a special area to be cleaned and sanitized. Then, she hugged me. This small lady with a giant heart mixed with fiery red sadism showed that there is a love, care and an acceptance between people that exists in pure kink and pure friendship made even more amazing because we also share a great friendship outside of kink too. Sexuality due damned.

Then, I immediately needed a nap. So, to the hotel we went.

For dinner that night, the four of us met the anonymous couple that had seen me naked earlier that day. It was nice to put faces with the voices and I found myself slightly surprised that not a single bit of embarrassment crossed my mind. Dinner conversation was great. We talked about chastity, plugs, toys, and the mental side of what fuels our kinks, which is way more than a physical thing on so many levels. They were a straight femdom couple, something I am not around a lot (that I know about, of course) but who we fucked didn’t matter at all as I knew that the man and I both sat there encased in titanium and, by the end of the night, we were sharing pictures of our encased dicks and talking about the plugs we enjoy best….turns out we both quite enjoy the limited run SWerks plugs and the jingle that both his and mine make among other things, of course. Master told me later that in a more quiet room he might have made us try to clang out a Christmas Carole or two, so, I then found myself loving the noisy space.

The next day, I spent with my Master serving him. We had time together to just relax into one another and we talked about our favorite things in life, about fantasies we have been having lately, and how much our lives are better with each other in them. And there was a lot of hot sexy stuff that makes a slave want to cum. The rules state that I can cum, if I can manage it in my cage. I was so fucking close. My Master could feel it. I could feel it. Mentally, my body felt it. Physically, I did not come. Despite Master’s fervent encouragement, I came so fucking close, but not physical ejaculation. I had all the other parts of the physical orgasm. It nearly brought me to my knees. I was spent. We showered, we rested. We had out check in talks that we have every so often and then, we shopped. I needed a coat and he needed to hobble around in his cast, so off we went.

Later, we were picked up by our new friends from the previous day and met the muggled up, fancied up Steelwerks’ couple at dinner. Dinner was amazing. On the ride in the car to and from dinner, we discussed our thruple, if you will. We gave a quick verbal rundown of the organizational flow chart. Who is number one and number two to who and Daddy’s (Axel) umbrella ownership of both my Master and his slave. I told them more about Daddy and how amazing he is. I talked about how he loved both of us. How he cares for me in ways that differ from my Master. Being Daddy’s beast and my Master’s slave…fuck I don’t deserve their love. I could feel my eyes get watery as I smiled that stupid grin I have and told our new pervert friends just how amazing the two men in my life are to me. I thanked them for allowing me a place to be seen as my Master’s slave. What a privilege to

You know, straight people are not so bad. Not at all.

I mean, sure they have that cool ability to procreate, show affection in public, and never have to think twice about what word to use to describe their spouse to a stranger, but they generally get such a bad rep about driving minivans to soccer practices, worrying about tax rates, PTA’s, and what’s on sale at the market. Of course, the same sources would let you believe that most gay men just pity them for not being able to talk about sex at the table and what is put in where when allowed. It’s so, so, sad but I guess Ward and June will rule forever and that we homosexuals will just have to try harder to not shame them or look down upon their fashion mistakes. I mean, they can’t help it, they were also just born that way too.

While I am obviously kidding because, yes, of course, while we will continue to shame on the fashion mistakes, I think there is a weird misconception that the kinky gays and the kinky straights don’t play well together when in reality, that’s rather stupid. Further, go out to dinner with me and my crew. After 40 the conversations started to slip to pure domesticity and now, after 50, we find ourselves comparing blood pressure medicines and bragging about who can stay up to 10. We are all the same, proven yet again.

However, to explain where I am going here…

As I write this, I am sitting in a hotel room in Montreal where Jack is under my desk rubbing my legs. It’s one of his favorite places to be and one of my favorite places for him to be as well. We are here to see our friends at Steelwerks and have celebrated our friendship with food, drink, laughter, intense and not so intense conversation and, well, more drink. I love these people and my work calendar is even blocked off with the phrase “Christmas with Canadian Family” which, I am sure, has my assistant curious as rarely does Mississippi meet Montreal.

As as part of this trip, I also had the opportunity to hand the boy’s leash over to Mrs. Steelwerks yesterday for her to work her magic on him. I told her to do whatever she wanted to do to him as a way of letting him experience the gear and for her to continue growing her expertise levels so she can keep her own boy in line – as if there is any danger of him not ever being compliant. I was there and helped, but she’s a tiny woman that casts a big shadow and she was clearly in charge, which was absolutely fine by me. She taught me some tricks, too, but those are for some posts in the future as I am not revealing any new information to the boy until he’s in the proper form, the proper place, and with the proper amount of restraint applied. It was an amazing afternoon and there will be plenty of pics to share, trust me.

What made me laugh was about five minutes after the first pic went on Twitter, I got a message saying, “I thought you boy was gay. Is he bi now?” Well, since there is no sex and he was the only one naked, I don’t think sexuality factors into that nor do I think it’s a deciding factor in how kink should work. In this case there is consent, explicit trust, mutual interests and knowledge resource exchange. How could one even question this? Yes, if you are into women and junk, Mrs S is hot and if I didn’t think of her like a sister I could have gone down that path of being all hot and bothered by watching her do some amazing work with Jack, but for those of you who do walk that path, enjoy the vision.

This trip also brought about even more heterosexuals.

On our first night, we met a man (@gimpypup on Twitter) who flew by on his way home to England to pick up his cage. He joined us for dinner and the conversation never stopped, much to the chagrin of the cute little couple on their first date next to us. We talked about dicks, cages, restraints, plugs and more and had the best time doing so. He told me that one of the reasons he was into some of this is from this blog and while swooned silently, he didn’t know that he had just made a friend for life at that moment. Our time together was short that night, pup, but I took away so much.

Last night, two MORE straight people joined us for dinner who are friends of the Werks. They are a husband and wife (@lovedenied on the twitter) who have been together almost a quarter of a century and a few years back switched up their marriage to that of a female led relationship. It was officially sealed with a S screw and a plug and from the looks and sounds of it, they have never been happier. I greatly enjoyed meeting these two because they were exactly what I love about so many kinksters who don’t live their life in leather and lace. They have careers, kids, and other hobbies, but, the man is this attractive Dad type who nobody would ever guess has a locked dick and a jingling ass at the Home Depot and the ruler of the relationship, is a sexy, pretty executive type who is buttoned up on the outside while her husband’s key gently rests between her breasts attached to a lovely chain. They ARE kinky America and I loved that. As he asked the boy if he knew what pegging was, I knew we were going to be fast friends as well. He also said he started this world when he saw a pic of me locked and then the blogs that followed led him to Steelwerks. And, like pup above, he also found himself tagged as a friend for life and/or gained a new stalker.

The thing I loved most about all of this is that sexuality did not matter one fucking bit to anyone at either table. We started with a shared bond of kink and found other connections along the way. I spent today smiling as I just enjoyed that fact. And these days, it’s just one more notch on my evolution as a proud kinky professional. Now, stay tuned for more pics

I realized this morning that it has been over a month since me or Jack has updated this blog. I could list 30 reasons as to why, but I am not sure anyone would care. I am finding that even owning the most amazing boy in the world doesn’t stop the year end work travel, the tendons I keep tearing – or the joints I keep breaking, and the still newly minted Dead Parents Club orphan gold – club level status grief that somewhat just hangs over your head like a cloud that no longer rains or casts gloom goes away. But I learned that it’s just a cloud that is omnipresent and one that thins out just as fast as it can grow dark. I spent so much time trying to make it blow away before realizing that it doesn’t and it shouldn’t, but one just has to learn how to ignore it when not needed and celebrate it when it is. But, enough about the muggle world.

While things have been busy, never fear, Jack’s ass has stayed a nice shade of red, his nipples are constantly sore, his dick is locked and his ass is plugged. We have a level of consistency and perfection always on display, and I love that. Something that hit me over the last few weeks could apply to the muggle world too, but specifically in a power based situation, I realized that the boy is my weakness, yet I am his strength. That weakness I have for him is one reason I suspect power based relationships may suffer because, while I am dominant and love to give an order, I am also practical and take into account his feelings on the task or his current state sometimes more than I think I should. This is more outside of sex than in it, but a specific example that comes to mind was one night, a few weeks ago, it was really cold and really wet and I remembered I had forgotten to plug the charger into my car. So as I was getting up, I looked over and the boy was in the floor in a blanket and my first thought was “fuck Drew, you have a Jack, this is one of the things he is here for, so why are you going to get cold and wet??” That was followed by “but look how comfortable he looks and he’s naked and warm and it’s my car, etc etc” so as I continued to get up I debated it. In reality, he saw what I was doing, asked what I was doing, and had his shoes on and was out the door before I could get my fat ass into sweatpants. He did that because THAT is what and who he is now and if I had given into my weakness, I would have denied him the joy of service, so to speak. Versions of that scenario happen over and over again and most of the time they end of just like they did then. Sometimes, when he is busy and I do something like that or carry something heavy in from the garage, he will look at me like I crushed him which further fuels my weakness (we don’t show the puppy dog eyes that are always exacerbated by the collar) and I find myself apologizing, or wanting to, for doing a task for myself. I forget he fuels his strength in service like this and I will remind myself that from time to time.

Where my other weakness comes to play is probably not the place you guys would think, but it’s in his orgasm denial. There are so many times during sex when he has done such amazing things to me that I think “fuck that boy needs a reward” or “God damn, that will be fun to watch” and more. In those moments I want nothing more than to let him have what he wants, but then I always remember that it’s not what he wants AND because what he wants doesn’t matter here. What I want does and I want a boy and love a boy who serves, now, on two plus year denial energy and that turns me on so much that it would not be fair to either of us. I love this part so much that I wonder how good it will feel at 5 years or at 10 years? Surely I will love it even more and, by then, I wonder if he would have given up the idea? It’s an interesting conundrum and one that, as long as I don’t give into my weakness, we will all just have to wait and see, right Jack?

And, for what it’s worth, please don’t worry, I am pretty strong.

Another locktober is coming to an end. I’m thrilled for everyone who tried chastity for the first time, for people who broke records, for people who are comfortable trying something new and exciting. Part of me expects there to be some sort of shift in the earth’s axis as the loctober fanboys are let out of their cages and allowed to have an orgasm. There may be a small part of this slave that is a bit envious. It is only a small part, assuming that pervert still exists anywhere within me. You will probably never hear me say I never want to have an orgasm, that would, in fact, be a lie. However, I’ve got a damn good reason, well more than one, to know that a traditional orgasm is something I don’t need. Wanting it on occasion, however, is what makes giving all of me, including the now elusive orgasm, to my Master the best thing that I have ever had happen to me. I’ll explain…

After a long week of travel for Drew, random stressors including work, playing landlord to less than trustworthy tenants, and dad duty, I wanted nothing more than to be the biggest pervert of a slave for my Master and to serve him better than ever. As we talked throughout the week, I shared my thoughts and ever increasing horniness with him in his absence. As he pulled into the garage, I sat near the door with the bio dogs waiting for Master to get in. If I had a tail, I think it would wag faster than the tails of the two actual dogs combined. My leather collar and harness felt good, snugly cinched against my body. I. Was. Ready.

Master entered the back door, he greeted the bio dogs, gave me a “hey boy,” walked right by me and kissed Daddy. My heart was full, as was my cage. I waited patiently. My tube filled and gave away my excitement as I pressed my head against my Master’s thigh as he and Daddy talked. We all rested that night. As I massaged Master’s tight muscles from a long week of plane rides and boardrooms. We all needed it.

The next morning, I worked on my chores. The obligatory trip to the hardware store and Costco out of the way, a bit of work completing a few projects around the house and Master told me to go shower and have the shower ready for him. One of my favorite things lately has been the new Steelwerks plug. Quite possibly the most comfortable plug ever. It has a HEAVY carry. The balls inside rattle around as I go about my work. In the hardware store, costco, target, the restaurant for lunch, and even up the stairs at home. I love that others can hear it. Although very few people would correctly identify the jingle. In my mind, it announces to the world that I’m owned by the most amazing Master in the world. Basically, when I carry it, that jingle and that thought multiply my usual level or horny ten fold.

Back on track, I jingled my plug filled ass up the stairs and showered. I dried myself and told my Master the shower was ready for him. I undressed him, and he showered while I gathered a change of clothes for him. One of my favorite things in the world is to dry him as when he gets out of the shower. I used the towel to feel every square inch of my Master as I dried his body. God.Damn. He is fucking beautiful. I worked my way down his body, feeling his muscles through the towel. I got on my knees as I dried his legs, his mass cock in my face and I opened my mouth and tried to put his dick in my mouth, but it was just out of reach. My cage filled showing my excitement. Working harder and harder to get something just out of reach, and a full cage gives away my continually rising level of horniness and the craving of having my Master fill me.

Master directed me to get the chain and locks from the dresser. My hands cuffed and locked to the chain locked to my collar, Master ordered me on the bed as he lay there naked. I rubbed his body, I licked every square inch of him, I got as close as I possibly could to my Master. I worked my tongue between his legs, making him moan a bit, I took his balls in my mouth and I was in my happy place. His massive dick leaked warmth onto the back of my head. I opened my mouth and stuck out my tongue to taste my Master and take him inside of my mouth. Thrusting his dick deeper and deeper into my throat I could hear the Steelwerks plug rattle as my body moved in response to Master’s thrusting.

Master turned me over stood up and pulled me closer to the edge of the bed. He bent over me. I could feel the heat of his body against mine. I know I was sweating from the pure desire that was thick in the air. I wanted my Master to fill me, to be closer, to be inside me. He leaned in for a kiss, but stopped so fucking close to my face. I strained and tried to taste his mouth. I wrapped my legs around him and tried to pull him closer. I could feel his PA hitting the plug in my ass. Straining to make contact with his mouth, I was grinding my body against him. I was shaking. I wanted my Master to have an orgasm. It brings me such joy to share that with him. As I tried to get closer, there was a stream of sticky, warm fluid streaming from my cage. I was on the edge of an orgasm and all I wanted was to be closer to my Master.

He leaned down and breathed a breath into my mouth, reminding me that he controls even my air. My god! I was on the verge of a full blown orgasm and wanted it so badly. Almost as badly as I wanted my Master to fuck the living daylights out of me and share his orgasm with me. He new I wanted to explode. 

“Do you want to cum, slave?” He asked. I was so wrapped up in feeling his body and the edge of pleasure my body was experiencing that I couldn’t answer. A breathless, animalistic grunt was the only sound I could manage to make. He grabbed my throbbing cage and encouraged me to cum. So.Fucking.Close.

“Come on slave, you can cum as long as you are caged. You know that.” I tried. With every bit of my body, every muscle in me was tight with an impending orgasm. I was sure there would be a huge mess to clean up any second now. I felt it. I was about to explode. My body shook. I was sweating. So close. I wanted to make my Master proud. I tried. I tried until I was physically spent. On the verge of orgasm, I was physically spent. I was exhausted. I couldn’t try anymore.

Master leaned over me once more. He was enjoying this. His grin made me grin. Fuck, I was so close, but not close enough. He lived me off the bed, my legs wrapped around him. He supported me. I rested in his arms. I squeezed him closer to me. I asked him to share his orgasm with me. He put me on the bed and laid down beside me. His throbbing dick became my sole focus. With every bit of strength I could muster, I proceeded to give him the best blow job he had ever gotten. As his dick slid deeper into my throat, I tasted him. I felt his breathing get deeper, quicker. I felt his muscles tighten. His body shook. As my Master’s body gave the signs he was closer to orgasm, I had that on the edge feeling again. I worked harder and harder to give him the best my slave throat had. My Master shared his orgasm with me. It felt so fucking good. From the sheer volume, sounds he made, and the heat given off, It was an amazing orgasm for him too. We were just a little closer. Despite having him literally inside me, it was not close enough.

Despite being closer to a physical orgasm than I’ve been in two years. That was one of the very best non-orgasm orgasms I’ve had. It was better than any actual physical orgasm I’ve ever had. I like to think the orgasm my Master shared with me today was one of the very best he’s ever had. As he held me afterwards, we talked. I’m not entirely sure what all was said- I was mostly staring at his beautiful eyes, his grin, and feeling his body next to mine. I do know there was discussion about my yearly opportunity to have a “regular” orgasm. To be honest, I think it would be a bit of a let down. So to those of you who participated in locktober, I leave you this question…what if every day were a locktober day? For the past two years, it has been for this slave. By far, the best two years of my life in more ways than I can count. I’d like to think it has been pretty amazing for Master and Daddy, as well. I know for sure that denial has been physically amazing. I know that it has improved my life for the better and made me closer than I’ve ever been to anyone before.

Hello from the left coast. I was sitting in traffic today and just thinking and I realized that I was smiling. Like big smiling and there was no real reason. Weirdly, that made me smile more.

For those of you who “knew” me prior to January 2020, when I took an intentional break from international travel due to my parent’s health and then, two months later, when I took an unintentional break from all travel due to global health, you know that my world is now very, very different. My travel is picking up again, but the international part is done and the domestic part is about a third of what it was and that, actually, is really okay with me even despite losing some elite airline and hotel status levels that somewhat does pierce my soul at some level. But, now I have jack AND Axel, two amazing pandemic puppies, and have acquired this new title of Master along the way, and all those things, I suspect, are why I was just the weird smiling man in the black Tesla on the 405 earlier today.

What I realized as the afternoon continued is that I have not told my side of the “being better” story. By that I mean that there have been multiple posts about how jack is a better man, dad, employee, son, and just all around man due to his slave status, but I do not think I have ever told you how or what his slave status and, thus my subsequent Master status, have done for me as a person, a husband, an employee, and as a friend.

In short, it’s made me better too.

In long form, it’s given me a confidence and a freedom about life that I actually didn’t realize I needed. I am a big guy thanks to some strong genetics and my size is something that even when I look in a mirror I mentally often do not see. Now, I see fat in places I don’t want it and way more than I want, but physical size is something I kinda know, but often don’t feel. I am only 6’1, but have a 21.5″ neck, a 46″ chest, shoulders that do not fit places comfortably, and a 34-35″ waist. With a bald head and sunglasses, I either look like I know way more about football than I do or that I am protecting some government official somewhere. I get that, but it’s weird to me too. My internal confidence often did not match the outer shell so many times in life because of shame around my kinks, insecurity at work, or just general things in life. Being a switch did not help that at all because I often felt that I would not be good at being in either role since I didn’t feel it 100%.

However, this owner thing, I have to say I have really taken to and I feel like I am pretty damn good at it as well.

In no way do I mean to discount Ax in any of this and the benefits of who he has made me could not even fit on this page, but that’s been nearly 25 years and being his husband has brought me so much joy through the years in so many ways except that absolute fulfillment of my perversions. It’s not that he didn’t try, but until I met the man who is wired to be just as kinky as me, I really didn’t know what I needed at all. Being jack’s owner, trainer, Sir, best friend, and, well, Master, tapped something in me that has given me so much, some of which I didn’t know I needed.

Personally, to know that this man who I lead, who is so smart, so talented, and, well, so adorable yet hot structures his life to my orders arouses my brain even more than my dick. The fact that I have this power over him, which happened so fast in some ways, sometimes scares me because I know how careful I need to be with that power. I will never harm him intentionally, but in the past in some scenes when I got carried away, I realized he was not going to stop me because he wanted to please me, and I cannot ever let myself cross that line. This power, though, I have found I now carry outside of times with jack and it’s given me a new confidence that just shows itself in places in life that likely nobody else would ever know, but I do, and I love that.

If you have stuck around for awhile as well, you know I have had what some might call an unfair share of grief over the same time period and I00% credit jack as the object (he likes it when I say that) that helped me channel anger and sadness in some ways that just made me wonder if the universe sent him to me just for that purpose. Axel and I have emotionally dealt with all of these things in very different ways and I, at least in my opinion, have gotten through the worst of it much more rapidly than Ax and with a better outlook about the future too. It’s like the healing power of kink, and it’s something that I have found to be extremely true in my case.

As the travel increases, our little thruple is learning to adjust with it and that will shape the next few years as well.

So, I have a plane to catch and not much else to say on this aside from just this glimpse of the other side of the duo. In just a few hours I will walk in the door and jack will be there naked on his knees waiting for me. As I walk by him to greet Ax and the bio-dogs, my dick will rise and the weekend will start. Damn, I hope we have something fun to write about Sunday.

Until then…