I think I’m pretty special for a few things. I know that sounds arrogant, so let me explain.

I had a realization today that my Master probably has seen me at my most on edge, mentally, emotionally, kink-ally, than any other being on the planet. The past two years have been stressful for everyone on this big blue ball called earth, to say the least, probably more stressful than we even realize in ways we can’t realize. Even some events we typically categorize in the “good” column of the spreadsheet are physiologically processed as stressors. I don’t think we have fully grasped the potentially long lasting impact covid isolation, deaths, and division amongst people over any number of things like getting the jab (or three or four), wearing a mask, etc..

Covid has been a time of loss, of relief, of stress, job insecurity for our small family of kinksters. Because of covid, I have met Drew and Axel. I have gained a Master and a Daddy who love me for who I am and for what I am and for what I want to be for them. I have found trust in another that I have never experienced before. I have truly felt unconditional love, and I have felt what it feels to grow that love, to trust like I never have before, and to push past limits like never before. I’ve seen that same trust be given to me by them all during a period of time when they have each had tremendous personal losses that forever changed their futures. I guess what I’m saying is that we may be a group of perverts, but I’ve never felt so close to what I’ve always thought “normal” felt like. 

These men have given me permission, in a sense, to be loved and show my true self with a confidence I’ve never had before. Sometimes that love hurts (the good column kind of hurt). Sometimes that love is tired and we just need a nap together. Sometimes that nap looks like me drooling on Drew’s shoulder while we watch whatever bingeworthy show. Other times, it involves locks and chains and leather. The point is still the same. We can take good away from any situation with the people who love us, support us, and get those things in return from us. Do I really think I’m all that special, not really. I do think I have the support of two amazing men, and what we do for each other, that’s fucking special.  

For those who read this, I hope you have something, someone, or just some time to realize your specialness too. If nothing else, I think I say this to just, once again, tell the perverts like me that you can blend kink, life and love and, most of all, you can embrace your inner pervert while doing so. If have learned it doesn’t have to be an either/or type of life and if that’s not special, what is?

As much as I’d like to say I’m perfectly adjusted and am the poster slave for easy going, low stress, no anxiety serviced focused living, you’d laugh if you knew me. 

My Master travels a lot for work, sometimes more than others. The upside is he’s been on all seven continents and has worked all over the world. That is something that fascinates me about who he is and and part of what draws me to him because it makes him so happy. Going into this, I knew he’d be gone some (though not at all in the pre-pandemic level) so, the downside is, I miss him like hell when he’s gone. It’s not a bad thing, it just is. While he is out of town for work, we have a few things that keep us close together no matter how much distance is between us at times. Last Sunday was a day before he left, one I usually try to pay a bit more attention to him, but that day, a bit of a last minute family stressor put me in a foul mood. 

Drew knew that, though.

As I walked in the door, he looked at me as said what’s wrong. As I changed into my uniform, I said nothing, “I’m fine”. He called to Daddy in the kitchen saying the slave is in a funk. “He’s all funked up”. As much as I tried to hide my foul mood, my Master saw it. I was ordered upstairs to get the spreader bars, the leather cuffs, and the ball gag. He said I needed “service therapy” and, as it turns out, I really did.

While I was bound, we discussed the reason for my funk, I massaged my Master. I I looked at his beautiful body and listened intently to him as we talked. I realized a few things that I already knew, but I think they’re worth repeating. I’m a a better man, dad, brother, son, boyfriend, slave, and best friend because of him. I’m a better pervert because of him. I’m better equipped to handle life’s stressors because of him. 

As we continued talking, I continued trying to get closer to him. He tortured my nipples as we talked as he laid out a plan to help me cope with the afternoon’s muggle family gathering. Of course he will be with me. I carry my large plug when he is out of town or when I am at places he cannot physically be with me at. I do it, because it was ordered, but mostly because it acts as an extension of his control over me, he is essentially inside me. I can squeeze him to try to get closer to him. He’s huge and fills me full. It helps to relax me and remind me how loved and owned I am. When I do this, I know he will be with me, close to me, inside of me. In essence, having him inside me and trying to squeeze him closer to me, calms me and keeps me incredibly turned on at the same time. I’ll carry the large plug from then until he gets back from his work trip in several days.  

I offer my nipples to him. He bites them, and it hurts. I am quiet, taking all of his pain. He looks up and grins at me. Grabbing the filled titanium tube, the contents completely owned by him. As he squeezes my tits harder and harder, he grins as I take all of his pain. He tells me how proud he is of me. How happy he is to see me take all of his pain. By this point, I’m lost in his beautiful eyes. I tell him how proud he makes me. How proud I am to be owned by a man like him, how proud it makes me to call him my Master. I tell him, “I love you Master, every fucking bit of you. You own every fucking part of me, inside and out.” I thank him for allowing me to take his pain. It reminds me that I am loved when I’m still sore the following days. To be clear, this is not abuse in the domestic violence way, but in a consensual “do it harder” kind of way.

This bond, this trust, this unconditional love makes us whole. I’ll be sore for the next few days as a reminder of this. I’ll carry the large plug to remind me until he returns from his work travels. I will squeeze him tightly inside me when I need a little extra reminder that I am never without him. Fuck, I know just how indeed lucky I am. 

One last thought, as weird as it sounds, I’m glad I miss him. I have thought about the why is this and, I believe the missing part is an indication of things to come. I miss his presence, but I know he is coming back. What’s the point in missing someone who isn’t coming back? The missing part is good on some other weird level. It reminds me I’m owned by an amazing man who makes me a better man. My Master makes my knees weak, my titanium cage full, and all sorts of other things. He’s worth missing, he’s worth carrying inside of me when he’s gone, and he’s worth being greeted by a well trained slave ready to take his pain when he gets back home. 

I had a conversation about dom/sub relationships with someone the other day. I’m no advice columnist, but I’m as much my Master’s slave as he is my Master. Are we equal? No. Are we unequal? Well, no. While I may be his chattel, I’m a man, made better by my Master. I’m proud to be made better by him, and in turn I think we make each other better men and better humans. 

Last night was a rare night in that the boy was unlocked the whole time he was with me. It started as a need to deep clean and soak the cage and, in the process, a small red spot was discovered so for safety’s sake, I told him to stay unlocked for a day or two until it could get better.

Now, while it is always covered in titanium, his dick is truly something to behold. I mean, I know it’s not the right tool for a sub to have and we have taken measures to mitigate that, but while he’s a small statured man, his dick is built for someone two to three times his size. It has a left facing curve that I suspect was created by the sheer fact that when growing up it had to evolve itself to fit into his pants.

That dick aside, it’s not something I generally play with or even see. I like him denied and in being denied he doesn’t get to be touched or ogled at either. That said I often tease him about things with “let’s go get a pizza and when we get home, would you like to ejaculate?” or “If you do x I might let you come” but, deep down, he knows I am not serious because we all know he gave up the right to have a (traditional) orgasm in 2022 (as well as in 2021) and he knows I will not allow him to go back on that decision. We are working on the left ear orgasm I have been training him to have, but that will take some time.

But, last night, last night was different.

There was a sexual tension that was strong and, for me and him, I have the ability to talk directly into his ear and, in doing so, he fires up and in some ways almost becomes robotic. We were sitting in the floor together, he was naked and collared, and I starting pinching his ass which had just received about 500 licks an hour before. They were hard licks too as, after we finish, I always give him the choice for more. Last night’s choice was he could kiss me, but each kiss would cost him an additional 10 hard licks with the heavy leather paddle. He kissed me, and again, and on his third attempt I said, “are you sure, boy, this is a heavy price” to which he said “yes Master, it is worth to me.” So, since he was paying, he got a kiss worthy of the impending pain and, when we were done, I even gave him a free one as I am indeed a generous guy.

That is where the tension had come from and, last night, I really did think that I wanted him to come. I made him be still, gave him the no talking command, and then I pinned him back and started playing with that curved, massive member. I fondled, I licked, I even sucked a bit too and the boy was vibrating, He knew better than to come, but I think he was mighty close and I had to try to think about what a punishment would be if he did and realized that we have never set one because I am that sure in his ability to stay chaste for me.

I felt him pulse, I felt it coming, so I stopped. I repositioned him so that he was effectively sitting in my lap with his back to my chest which gave me perfect access to speak directly into his ear while I rolled my Southern drawl in a more than whispered effect while also stroking his dick in a beautifully choreographed rhythm to my voice. And, of course, I was continually pushing his almost permanently installed plug up and down inside of him.

I said, “what would you do to come boy?”

He said, “umm mph

I said, “before you come, I am going to do x and x and x to you so that you will have so much of me inside you that you will have no choice. Do you want that boy”

He said, “god damn, Sir”

I said, “but to be a good slave you will have to do x and x and x and it’s gonna fucking hurt”

He said, “Fuck Sir, anything, ANYTHING for you Sir”

I said, “anything, slave?”

He said, “EVERYTHING SIR. YOU FUCKING OWN ME SIR” (his whole body was vibrating)

I said, “Do you want to come boy, just tell me, just tell me”

He said, “It’s not my choice to make Sir, but mmmmmm, mmmmm, FUCK”

I said, “picture yourself coming with me doing x and x and x while you simply have no choice to take it and any pain

He said, “Fuck, Sir, FUCK, Sir, that is so fucking” (and then his voice started cracking)

I said, “Okay, slave, you are ready, are you ready, fuck I bet you are ready

He said, “tell me Sir, fucking tell me Sir

I said, “Okay, boy, you earned this, picture your Mother naked boy, picture her absolutely naked

He said, “mmmmmmmm, mmmmmm, no Sir, that’s terrible, and oh fuck Sir:

And, as I absolutely stopped all physical contact with him, I said, “Lock up and bring me the key, You have 10 minutes. Oh the plug stays in until tomorrow

I have to wonder, did he really think I was going to allow such behavior? And, yes, I know I used X in place of the actions, but use your imagination, we can’t tell all our secrets.

A great day with Sir

If you have already read my Master’s latest post, you know that we had a talk, as we often do. They almost always catch me by surprise and it’s usually when he has had a good week, but it really is just a check in of sorts, basically culminating in an “is everything ok, because, if so, I am going to hurt you more?” type of regular check in – you know, like a performance review at work. We have them from time to time, it keeps communication open and often ends up with me weak in the knees, swooning, with some new part of me taking his pain while I also try not to tear up – in that good way.

As I sat in the floor between my masters legs (his legs are fucking amazing!). I stared into his equally beautiful eyes as we talked. We discussed how our lives have gotten better as we have embraced our relationship. I’ll come back to that. 

I am owned. I am my Master’s slave and Axel is my Daddy. While there are times that our lives look like some hot porn clip (well, maybe a porn clip on sale), it mostly looks like love, expressed differently than the “norm,” but it is no less love. In my opinion, it is probably a healthier relationship and the benefits are bigger than a lot of vanilla relationships. Though, as my ex-wife would attest, I’m no relationship guru, but this works for us. 

Sir asked me a very specific question as he wanted to know how I was better since being collared, locked and plugged. The biggest change is how I now just feel how my life has gotten better over the last year or so. Since then, I now know 100% that I am unconditionally loved and supported. My confidence and acceptance of myself has grown exponentially. I’m a better and safer driver. I have a better job, a better salary, and more room for growth at work than I previously had. I have expanded my cooking skills, my construction skills, and even my parenting skills. I’m a better dresser. I’m improving my health, and growing my body for my Master and Daddy. I am a better man. Period. 

On the kink side of things, I have grown immensely, as well. I have grown in my submission, no doubt I feel it would not have grown so with anyone else. I don’t need to make decisions on my own anymore and I had no idea before how much the simple things just overwhelmed me. I’m proud to say that because I am owned, I turned that over because he knows what I need more than me in so many ways. My Master picked my new car. He picks my clothes, shoes, socks, and underwear. I fucking love it. But, just so it’s clear, I’m not incapable of making such decisions. My Master makes sure of that, but I  just don’t need to make those decisions anymore and that lets me just be the new me.

My body is hairless now, and I’ve grown to love it. It does feel good, but I love that it makes my Master happy. I carry a plug nearly daily. I can fit larger things in my ass than I have ever been able to fit in there, even things that a little over a year ago I would have said were impossible. Needless to say, the training is working and I crave being filled with my Master’s orders.

Regarding my training and the challenge he mentioned in his update, I wish I could say I did this or did that (insert extremely awe inspiring kinky task here with no problems. The truth is that sometimes I have problems with certain things, but he tells me that is why we practice and I do get that. For instance, as you know, I was under the desk while my Master worked on a blog post. He stuck is amazing dick in my mouth and told me not to let it come out until he said it could come out. Any chance to have my Master inside if me, I absolutely love. However, after 25 minutes on my knees under the desk, my legs were going to sleep and my jaw was sore. Despite the unexpected uncomfortableness, I wasn’t going to let the cock I crave so much out of my mouth until my Master allowed it. I held it until he was finished editing his post. I was proud, and I’m sure my Master was, too. I quess the point here is that he pushes me to be a better pervert as well, and, well, who doesn’t want to be a better pervert?

So, back to the talk, Master asked if I regretted my decision to delay my orgasm for another year – though he did say it wouldn’t matter if I did. For the record, I do not. I’d like to have an orgasm of a different sort. This year I had what I’ll call a full body mental orgasm without an actual ejaculation. It was fucking amazing. I want to have that again. As we talked, my Master reminded me he had promised to teach me to cum just by him blowing in my left ear. We discussed the training and I’ll be trained to cum in my cage when he blows in my left ear wherever I may be (a fun though too). I didn’t think it was possible, but I know him and he knows my mind and, now, I have no doubt I will get there one day. The thought of this made my titanium tube fill fill, and I’m not sure there was anymore space to fill at that moment. We practiced the training, and I’m more than excited about it. I even dreamed about a left ear orgasm that night, and it was truly amazing and fuck, I cannot wait and will do my focus exercises to practice every single day.

My point here is that a real family is possible within a kink or BDSM relationship. Real love is possible there. Anybody can call themselves a Dom, but I’d encourage all you subs out there to keep looking for your unicorn. It is possible to have love and growth in this kind of relationship. You don’t have to settle for the first person who comes along wanting to tell you what to do. I may be my Master’s slave, but he is my Master, too. I may be my Daddy’s boy, but he is my Daddy, too. Those statements make me hard, make me swoon, make me grin, and make me better. I’ve never been happier. 

The boy and I were having a talk yesterday afternoon while he sat on the floor between my legs. I had him turn around and face me so we could have a heart to heart and I essentially held him in place between my legs (I have kinda strong legs) so that he could be trapped in the discussion the likes of which we do have from time to time.

I needed to check in to make sure he was still feeling emotionally and physically fed from being trained and, if so, tell him that we were going to step up a few things over the next (traditional) orgasm free year. This was also a time for me to tell him how incredibly proud Axel and I are of him and how thankful we are that he gave himself to us and allowed us (me mostly) to take away so much of his freedom. While we have been very clear that these removals are all about shaping him to be better, there are times that he needs to be reminded of such and to look back at how far he has come in the 17-18 months he has been owned and orgasm free.

A sideline here for newer readers, but I feel like this is where I need to remind you that jack is not a typical, porn style slave or twitter based “degrade me, Sir” slave (not that there is anything wrong with those) and that we are not Masters that have ANY interest in ever making him feel he his less worthy of happiness or progress than we are. We have learned and watched that as his slave side has continued to grow that he, as a man and a slave, has flourished and, in turn, we know we need to take him “down” even more as we continue to grow him into what he is meant to be as it’s just natural progression for him. Now the flip of this is there are MANY ways he is a traditional slave such as with rules, protocols, service – both domestic and sexual, but those are the areas where the strictness associated with slavery are helping him grow.

In this discussion, I asked him how he was better and to list a few ways, if he missed his hair, and what, if anything, he would change. He gave me almost thirty minutes worth of answers and instead of me saying more here, he will be writing a follow up post to this within the next 24 hours that answers those questions and talks about the one way I want him to work toward a caged orgasm this year, which will take a lot of mental training. I like to challenge him and this is one way though I often have plenty. For instance, as I write this he is under my desk with my dick in his mouth. His rule is that he must keep it in there for as long as it takes me to write, edit and post this or face punishment. He is struggling and, although I didn’t tell him what the punishment would be, it doesn’t matter because his desire to please me by completing the task and not failing will drive him and ANY punishment I give him will pale to the fact he will know he didn’t abide by my wishes. So, stay tuned for the post and I hope he will mention how today’s challenge ended and how he felt (since it hasn’t ended, now going on about 30 minutes, I can’t give you a spoiler).

Self reflection goes both ways and I started thinking about how I am also much better since I became an owner.

So, here are a few ways.

I am a better man myself. I am more relaxed, more focused, and generally about 20x happier than I ever thought I could be. Some of the daily tasks he does for me take some of that away, having someone to spank just because, or someone who worships me really has just put my mind in a happy place. These things have led to so much acceptance of myself as a kinky man, a sadist, a mentor, and a stern disciplinarian that I have used that to channel in other places. In fact, since I have met the boy, I have had the most professional success I have had in a 30 year career. The two facts absolutely have to be correlated.

Finally, I think the biggest takeaway is that I/we want all those guys out there who are like jack to see that they can have a life of respect and balance while still becoming the submissive that they were destined to be IF that is what they want. Our relationship has proven that kink can be any way you shape it as long as it’s communicated and continuously evaluated.

It hasn’t been that long since my Dad moved away to his next phase of life, whatever that may be. Now that the business of death is done, I miss him more than I ever thought possible. This is not a thirsty call for comments, but just a simple fact that any of you who have lost a parent, or like me, parents, just learn to accept, use as growth, and do everything you can do to continue to make them proud despite the fact it no longer affects your allowance.

Anyway, as a tribute to my Dad, this week I bought these two new Nasty Pig caps and gave him a bit of a shout/snout out, While this may seem incredibly strange to most of you, tenured readers of this blog will remember me writing about the day I was traveling that my elderly father had come to my house to do something and called me to say he forgot his hat and was going to borrow one of mine. I thought nothing of it as I usually have somewhere between 77- 203 ball caps within arms reach of the door and went on about my life.

A week or so later was the next time I saw my Dad and as he rounded the corner of Cracker Barrel where I was meeting him and my Mom for breakfast. I noticed the gray and bright red Nasty Pig on his head and immediately laughed as THAT was the cap he had borrowed, out of all those hats. I had no idea how to bring up the fact I wanted it back as I was not going to tell him what it was, but he pre-empted that by THANKING me for the hat and telling me that it was the best he’d ever worn. Then, my Mom said it was “stylish” and he swooned. It was never coming off of his head whether deep down he was a nasty pig or not.

From that day forward the Nasty Pig went with him to the barber shop, country club, grocery store, and anywhere else he would go. In fact, I believe I remember a conversation Axel had with him about that he could not wear it to my Mom’s funeral and he agreed that he would save it for his one day, a sly suggestion Ax had to win the argument.

Turns out, it was only a few months later when he would have had the chance at his funeral, but in the time in between he had a series of minor falls that, to an old man on blood thinners, looked like the aftermath of the Red Wedding each and every time, Ultimately, there was not enough Tide or Woolite in the world to save that pig and, at the end of the day, it became yet another casualty of 2021. I actually think he forgot about it rather quickly, but I didn’t as it still makes me smirk when I think about it every single time.

So, Dad, while you may never have known the background of that cap, know that I will never be without one (though, unlike you, only in the proper venues).

Here’s to you, Dad, from your pervert son who you made so proud with your acceptance, love, and apparently inner pig.

I was given some options and a choice to make. This isn’t something most owned slaves are allowed, but I’d go as far to say that I’m not most owned slaves and that my owners are definitely not average by any stretch of the imagination. I went a full year without an actual orgasm. Christmas 2021 was supposed to be the big day for my 2021 orgasmic release. However, Drew and Axel were traveling, so we moved my scheduled orgasm day to New Year’s Eve/Day far in advance so I knew the days would be shifted and, at that point, one extra week would not kill me. However, as a result of the latest craze in games of chance, a turn on “Is it Cold, Flu, or Covid: The Third Edition” put a less than fun kink in our planned ringing in of the New Year (and, fyi, it was not Covid).

We had an impromptu celebration of New Years the day after where I was given the option to orgasm, but I just wasn’t mentally prepared for it. I’m sure that it would have been amazing, and I’m sure it would have registered on the Richter scale. But, there’s a lot of emotion tied to giving control of your orgasms to someone else, well two someone else’s, that I am absolutely unconditionally in love with. The holidays had been increasingly difficult for me mentally the last several years, and this year was no exception. As odd as it sounds to 99.9% of males out there, I just wasn’t mentally prepared for an orgasm. So, I chose to forgo it that day. However, I did get flogged, paddled with my Master’s favorite (read pain inflicting) leather paddle, and the heavy steel paddle. I was happy, and it was probably one of my more intense impact sessions to date. That was followed by being shared by my Master and Daddy. I think all three of us got just exactly what we needed. 

After some discussion, I was given the option to choose to cum any day until January 31st as long as they were each present or wait until New Years Day 2023. The choice was mine and mine alone. I can be quite an objective slave at times, so I made a list of pros and cons. Depending on the day, my mood and the volume of girth in my tube, each list carried more weight than the other at any given time. It isn’t even half way through January, and, today, I made my decision. 

Today, I had the day off of work, so I spent it with my Daddy and Master. I’m an early riser, so I was up at my usual time (around 3:30am). I made it home to find Daddy already up and about. I greeted him and the pups. He was busy getting ready for work as he had a full schedule with patients already on the books. He felt me and I felt him. We loved each other and I went upstairs to nap with my Master until his alarm went off. I asked permission to get on the bed, and it was granted. I’m not particularly good at sleeping, but I rest truly soundly and deeply in that particular bed. I slept in the deepest part of my sleep so close but I never truly feel like I can get close enough to my Master. As we woke, I massaged my Master’s body as my cage strained as hard as it ever does. I truly worshipped my Master’s body as his owned slave. As he had meetings starting, I was given orders for the day, a list of tasks, and a different uniform from my daily uniform protocols. As he showered, I put on the day’s uniform. A heavy chain padlocked around my neck, leather cuffs on my wrists and ankles, and my new leather harness. 

I met my Master with a towel as he exited the shower. I dried his body. Today, I was to be below the level of his waist in the room with him. I could not speak without permission or being directly spoken to. I was to be within three feet of him at all times except for the scheduled times to complete my daily chores. His slave was in slave Heaven. 

Daddy left breakfast for us in the oven before leaving for the office. Master fed me mine as I sat on the kitchen floor kneeling with my hands behind my back. I am the best treated slave I know. My shiny titanium still trying to stretch. At some point during the day I was trying to remember how long an erection should last before it becomes an emergency, despite not having taken any of  the medications that carry such a warning. 

As my Master started his meetings, I served under the desk until it was time for my chores to be done. After they were complete and Master’s morning meetings were done he had our lunch delivered. Of course, mine was ordered for me. After lunch I completed my chores for the day. I showered off the day’s dirt and my Master and I spent time together as I massaged his body. We discussed the upcoming year as I tried to get close enough to him. Despite every part of my body that I could possibly get to make contact with his close enough continued to elude. We discussed physical goals for the year, as we as a family have individual health goals. I am growing my muscles to better please him this year. We discussed my progress there. We discussed our relationship with a depth and candor most vanilla relationships probably only dream of. Two is company and three is a family with unconditional love, right?

As the conversation continued, I made a decision. I leaned in and whispered in his ear, “Master, I have made my decision not to cum. I don’t need to wait until the 31st.”  He smiled his beautiful smile that makes my knees weak. He asked if I was sure, but he knew that I was. If my full cage and purple balls weren’t a dead give away, I answered a confident, “I am, Master.” I like to think this made him swoon a little bit, but his Mind knows me quite well. More than likely, he knew it already. 

So why delay my orgasm another year? Well, bragging rights are always nice. The pride of my Master. My pride in being owned. Honestly, I like my titanium dick better than the one I was born with. Neither are anything to be ashamed of. My titanium cage represents more to me than I could possibly list. The short version is that it is a constant reminder of unconditional love given by two men to me. It reminds me that I am worthy of being owned by them. It reminds me that the three of us always have support in an unusually fucked-up-at-times world. It is real fucking love, or at minimum a tangible representation of that. They would love me the same if it weren’t there. 

Finally, I’m spending another year locked in a cage because I’m a pervert and a sexual being. We visited friends that were consider family not too long ago. We had an amazing time. I loved being shown off by my Master and making him proud. That night after some time in their dungeon, my Master and I spent time together. That night I experienced something that I had never had before. The best way I can describe it is a physical and mental orgasm without any actual ejaculation. Fuck! It was amazing. I’ve never had such an amazing no orgasm orgasm. I want that again and again. 

Some may not get our dynamics, and that’s okay. I’m still going another year with a locked dick as an unconditionally loved slave in search of another amazing year with  more no orgasm, orgasms to be had. 

Happy New Year. I am now proud to say that I did not ejaculate once in 2021. Something I never thought I would never say. What’s more, something I would never have thought anyone would say.

So, I suppose a little reflection about this year is warranted.

In 2020, I met an amazing, sexy, man for lunch. We had an instant connection and somewhere, deep down, I suspected this man would own me one day. He made me melt. I mean, have you seen his eyes? A week or so later I met his husband who is equally as amazing. Then, within a few weeks I had my first chastity cage, and I was head over heels for these two men. A month later, I had my PA installed, a bonafide start to the badass metal dick club. By the time I had healed and gauged up and healed again, I had a shiny new titanium cage. A cage that I had not seen. A cage that I had no input in designing. Little did I know, my Master and the mastermind at Steelwerks had designed a perfect cage for me. The first time I actually saw it, it was already locked on my dick. It was fucking beautiful. 

At some point the rules were decided. I could ask to come twice a year and my request would likely be granted, although for some reason this year I did not ask. I’d be allowed to come at Christmas, just over a year from being locked. Today is one week after Christmas and I still have not cum and my dick is still locked. My Master and Daddy traveled for the holidays, so we knew in advance that it wouldn’t actually be Christmas, but after they returned a series of unfortunate events involving my family and the “is it covid or is it a cold?” factor factored in and it still hasn’t happened. It will happen. Just not today.

That said, to be honest, there is a part of me that isn’t really one hundred percent convinced I want to do the deed although every other part of me says that I want to 120 percent. I’m a little nervous about it as well. I mean, fuck, there’s a lot of pressure to perform, you know? 

For me, in addition to the denial and generally kinkiness, this titanium cage has represented the one true time in my adult life that I have ever had true unconditional love and support. It represents that love and support despite the fact that I’m a kinky pervert, despite the fact that I don’t always feel deserving of it, despite the fact that I’m not always the easiest person to love. But there it is, my dick locked in a titanium cage, my owned dick, a reminder that despite my imperfections, I’m loved without condition. 

I’ve actually woken up in the middle of the night with the most stupid thought of should I just say no and go another year? I mean, as every day that goes by my desire to be indefinitely chaste gets a bit stronger because of the shiny reminder of unconditional love securely locked where it belongs. I guess what I’m saying is that I enjoy the tangible reminder that I’m owned and with that comes unconditional love. I’m excited about “Christmas Orgasm,” but I’m just as happy whether or not Christmas 2021 actually will come this year or whether I will decide, with the guidance of my Master and Daddy, to just call it a year and go for two?

Stay tuned.

Over the last few weeks I have been asked why I, Jack, and various others use the #lockedinwerks hashtag when we tweet pictures of our Steelwerks cages. The implication of the questions were more judgmental than informative and one went as far as stated that labeling the pics made the person who posted look like an “elitist jackass” because of a type cage that is locked on his dick or even that we were promoting a secret brotherhood of locked fellows. The second part is rather funny because it is a brotherhood in many ways, but if it were truly secret, would we have a hashtag? And, as far as the bragging, I would think a screenful of a beautifully crafted titanium cage would brag a bit more than a few letters and a numbers sign, don’t you?

I think I was the one who started that hashtag years ago and, for me, it was and it is a way of showing pride. It’s a product a I proud to own, proud to wear, and proud to lock my boy in. It’s a product that brings me happiness, peace, and joy. And, it’s a product that is made by kinksters for kinksters and giving money to a fellow pervert for something they make that I benefit from brings me great satisfaction. On the same front, I have recently noticed a #lockedinbarz hashtag for the Behind Barz products made in the U.K. I am thrilled to see their customers stand behind them and show off their amazing products the same way. In full transparency, I know nothing about Behind Barz but I get the impression they are also kinksters for kinksters and, for that, they should be supported as well.

I think the reason this hit me in such a negative way was having just seen a hollow PA barbell on Twitter that is the EXACT replica of my original hollow PA barbell that Steelwerks made for me years ago. It was a forward and I don’t know the guy but he was really proud that he had bought it as a knockoff made in China and paid almost nothing for it. He thought that, since it looked as good as the original, it had to be as good. Right? From the posts, he really was enjoying that barbell and was trying to get it to fit in a Holy Trainer or, well, in something that looked like a Holy Trainer, I suspect. He’s happy with his bargain and, I guess, good for him, but at what cost did he get it? Will it be a bargain if it slices his dick or his penis falls off? That will be an interesting tweet.

See, the reason he got his bargain is that years ago Steelwerks did the work. They put in the time, the energy, and the craftsmanship while, for this particular design, I put in the money. In the consumer world, nothing is sacred, I know, and designs and ideas are copied all the time. Even more often, companies blatantly aspire to be as good as the best – I mean, anyone who drives a C Class knows it will never be a 3 Series, but I digress…

All that said to go backwards a bit and say that if there wasn’t a demand, they wouldn’t be made. There are probably 1,007 reasons why cheap devices need to exist and why men need to buy them, but I just wish it would not be celebrated as a win over the small business who created it – regardless of who they are.

How does this all swing back to the hashtag? I guess it is about penile pride at a base, but it’s about small businesses at the core, ownership of design, and recognition for those who created something great enough someone else wants to copy. That’s a lot of shit for one hashtag, but I think it’s also why we don’t see #lockedinDHgate or #lockedbyebay. So, for now, #lockedinwerks and quite proud.

My Master and I have discussed hypnosis before, and it is something that stirs both of our cages. While I wouldn’t really say we’ve achieved any sort of level of hypnosis, we’ve definitely developed a system of triggering words to help redirect my focus. There are actually five words, to date, but it started as three. They only work when they come from my Master and there is one word programmed to work from Daddy, as well. I’d love to tell them to you, but I cannot. However I will tell you about their effect on me. As I start thinking about them, my cage starts to strain a bit. In addition, I am not really allowed to show the emotion they cause when I am not right in front of either, so I tend to go a bit blank. So, if run into me and suddenly I go blank, check my cage, it will likely be expanding. Now, back to the words.

The first word triggers a response of pain. When my Master speaks it or sends it via text, all of my pain receptors fire. I feel every bit of pain he has given me. It puts me in that place that I go when I take my Master’s pain. It is a place of disconnected connectedness. I focus on the sensation. I focus on my Master. I focus on making him happy. Inevitably, I think about his amazing eyes, his amazing grin, and a particular look of satisfaction and pride when I’m taking intense pain from him. As the word is repeated, the sensation of pain grows stronger and more intense. 

The second word causes the sensation of being filled with an inflatable plug while taking my Master’s cock down my throat. Every time the word is repeated, the plug grows bigger and his cock goes deeper and deeper down my throat. It is a mental spit roasting of sorts, I suppose. All I know is that it makes me more eager than I already am to have my Master closer to me and deeper inside of me, if wanting, needing, craving that is more possible than the current level of craving. Beyond this increased need to be closer and have him deeper inside of me, I often have that mental feeling of being empty and my hole wrecked, despite no physical penetration having actually occurred. If you have ever been opened up with one of those pig hole toys, it is something akin to the feeling you would have after it comes out. 

The third word is more of a word that turns me into a physical object. When my Master gives me the word, I hold the pose that I am in at the moment. Turns out, I inadvertently have been holding my mindset at that given moment. That’s just an amazing added extra that happened to come along with this particular word. 

The fourth word is a recent addition. In fact, it hasn’t been tested yet. However, when I’m given this word, I am supposed to go into a head space that lets me separate from my self. It lets me enter an almost animalistic slave mindset. It is a space of submission, on all fours. It is a space where I want nothing more than to serve, be near, and just protect my Master. The protection part wasn’t really part of the programming, but it is just there. Think guard dog, and you are somewhere in the ballpark for this word. 

The fifth word was programmed for Daddy. When he gives me this word, all I can think about doing is absolutely with all I have physically show him just how much I fucking want him. Use your imagination, but it is basically my usual lustful thoughts amplified and put into action. 

Sir, as usual, has my safety at the top of his agenda so he promised to never use these when he knows I am driving, with a patient,

There is a list of words we plan to program for this slave. One thing I know, is that each and every time we use them, I’m reminded how much I’m unconditionally loved. I remember that I’ve never allowed anyone inside my mind like this. I’m reminded that the level of trust in our relationship is nothing I ever expected to find. I’d say I probably didn’t really want someone to know me so well at a past point in time. That’s all changed because of Drew and Axel. I’m proud of who and what they have done for me and the person I’ve become because their acceptance of every part of me. I’d venture to say most will never find this on the same level, but I hope that you do. Its worth trying to find. It’s fucking amazing, and I think I’m better because of it.