In The Cage Again

A few days ago she said, “I would like to experiment with the CB again,” while looking over my posterior.

Her computer is in her bedroom. She could see me as she was sitting at her keyboard. I must have appealed to her somewhat dormant dominant nature as I leaned over her bed while folding her clothes. Then she asked, “Would that be all right with you?”

I don’t now whether it was rhetorical or she really needed my approval. Considering that she has perfected her very own invented technique of Ignore and Denial, I figured that shifting into Tease and Denial was a positive step. I tried to say something that did not sound stupid, but I am not sure I succeeded. Still, she added, “When you have put away my clothes, bring me the devices. I want to choose the one I want.” Trying to contain my budding erection in the face of upcoming tease I went about my business, and then hers. She chose the CB2000. As a waiter would say to a customer, “It is an excellent choice, Madam.”

So, now the little guy is encased in plastic. This picture is one of my “file photos” from 2007. Aside from the PA ring addition, no change. This time he must have been titillated, for I had hell of a time connecting the locking post with the PA ring on account of all the juices and extraordinary length.

A couple of days later she said, “When I remove the device, you will shave as you are supposed to do.”

All I could say was “Yes’m”

The day went on. Late afternoon she said, “Remove it and then report to me.”

I removed the cage. She had me sit on a stool in the bathroom, and then used a hair cutter to trim my bush that had not been short for some time. After that she told me to shave the important parts.

I got my used razor to go to some place where the sun was bright. With a few sips of wine and sunlight I proceeded to remove the quarter-inch sparse stubble that grew since the last enforced shave. I stood in the bright light, and held my parts this way and that while scraping away. This was not in the shower. This was not with shaving foam. This was not with a straight razor. It was with a used safety razor, with my anatomy dry, standing outdoors while doing depilation.

This is not a painful process. Trust me. The sparse hair on my family jewels is not resistant, and there is no hard stubble such as would be on my chin, just some length of hair here or there. The pubic hair near my thighs, which is more abundant, was only part of the operation. It too, was clipped, and then dry shaved. I would love to suffer for MW. Alas, this was not the way. She will come up with her own way for my suffering, such as “not doing anything” when I really need it.

After I reported to her she had me put a ring on my [her] cock as a temporary measure for things to come. What you see is the underside of the little guy. I turned it around to give a better view.

We went out shopping, and I did all the driving and hauling. After returning home, I unloaded the purchases. She said, “Report to me in the bedroom in five minutes.”

I was elated, thinking that she had more kinky stuff in mind. All that did happen was her telling me to install the CB3000 this time. It was difficult on account of the little guy being out of character: he was big. After half an hour or so I forced him into the plastic tube using a wire hook to grab the PA ring to pull him to where he belonged so that I could connect all the chains and locks. Damned ingrate. The short chain in the front connects the locking post with the PA ring. It does not have a lock this time since MW claims to trust me to be true. I am so good! She had me install the signaling device also, because she needed me for helping with lifting and such.

During the rest of the day she called me via the device to do “this and that”, and each time mistreated my tits. One might think that to be cruel. I think of it as, “Oh God, that is heavenly painful.” She is not always that bad. But when she decides, she is the best at it. My tits will attest.

Those of you who have had the very personal acquaintance with the CB 3000 would know that it is smaller and more confining than the CB 2000. An erection in the CB 2000 or CB 3000 feels about the same. Also, at other times, there is no discernible difference in feeling. But there is a difference. The CB 3000 offers less access to the caged part because of the fewer openings around its side. The balls are pinched just the same. The nocturnal erections feel just as weird. But the little guy looks different with smooth plastic against it rather than plastic bars. If you don’t know what I am talking about, you just have to be there to see it.

MW is good about not insisting my incarceration while on the job or out of our home. Not only would it be embarrassing to be caught in the cage, but it would be a potential for criminal and civil litigation under some circumstances having to do with my job. It is a shame that I cannot leave the home with this fine instrument where it belongs. But we try to make up for it while I am at home.

Two days later, this morning, we went out again, with me driving her to various places. She had me remove the CB 3000 prior to leaving. After return some hours later I unloaded the goods that she bought, and got into my uniform (my natural state). As I was making the bed, she said, “You will put on Kali this time.” That vicious little piece of plastic is OK as long as I get no sexual provocation. Given that I have an almost permanent hard on during my sleep, I know that suffering is in my near future.

It is now a day later. I went to sleep last night with the Kali in place. MW came to me during the night and tested my response to squeezing it. She then applied a pair of clamps to my on/off switches, before proceeding to remove Kali’s teeth. By then the little guy was big again, so my attention was split among three painful places. In a while she clipped the plastic tie that holds Kali in place, then yanked off the clamps.

All I have had today were a few squeezes of the boys. It is not really fair of her to punish the boys when I am the one who is at fault. In a way it hurts me more than it hurts them.

Fat Old Women

MW and I were having dinner. I don’t know how the subject came up, but we were discussing fat old women. Now, don’t take this as derogatory. I have known fat women, old women, and fat old women. These are traits that some of us acquire over the years. I know, a fresh young female or male might laugh at this, but let’s see whether they still laugh when they become fat and old.

Anyway, MW was working on some cartoons, and she needed pictures of fat old women from which she could create her characters. I suggested to do an Internet search on “fat old women”, and see what turns up. She laughed, saying, “I did, and got a lot of material that I did not expect.”

I was intrigued by the idea, so after dinner I did a search as suggested. The result was 11 pages of stuff similar to what you see below. I did not follow the links. Well, maybe the last one. I was curious. Unless you have some robust anti-virus protection with accompanied prophylactics, I suggest that you don’t try it. I never even got to the promised pictures. Sheesh, I may have to see the doctor real soon.

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My appreciation of the human female is limitless. I do have preferences, but also maintain an open mind over size, shape, color, age, etc. Over the years I have realized that what I like to see is characterized like a window that moves from left to right. On the left it has young females, on the right old. As the window moves, some of the young ones drop out of my view on the left, and older ones appear on the right. I know I used to like ogling teenage girls. For some time now I don’t recall why. I don’t think it is senility, but then, if I were senile, I would not know it.

One thing that always thrills me is seeing a grand old lady. It is not necessarily her looks, but her manner and bearing that give me a thrill. One of the examples is in the movie, Stargate (1994 with Kurt Russell). In it there was a woman of substantial years who played the character of a scientist. I believe the actress was Rae Allen.

I don’t remember her from earlier movies, but she must have been beautiful all along. It’s not that I had the hots for her in this movie. But she beautifully fit my idea of the grand old lady.

Before you think that I am digging myself in too deep, I want to say this: I do prefer women younger rather than older in general. I won’t commit to the age range, for that is not relevant here. I also believe that “it is not what you have, but what you do with it” that makes all the difference. So, all you sweet ladies who think you are getting old or fat just remember this. I would rather spend an evening fully clothed, sipping wine, and conversing with a grand old lady or you, than trying to get to first base with some sexy young dimwit who does not know what to do with what she has, and can’t articulate a reasonable thought. Of course, that is not saying that I would not take off my clothes and do other stuff if the grand old lady was interested. Well, maybe not always. As I said before, “I am versatile,” also willing and able. Then again, MW might have something to say about that if it ever presented itself. The chastity device and the paddle are never too far from where they are to be used if necessary.

She Has Remote Control

I generally don’t watch television. I have come to the conclusion that in order to see something on television, I must be captive to the time of broadcast, else I miss significant parts when I feel like taking a bathroom break. I know there are devices out there that could help in case I really felt that it was necessary and constructive.

Don’t get me going on TIVO. Aside from the original expense, it is still another device stacked on top of the TV, time spent on programming, controversial issues of copyright violation. It is just another gadget. If you use this device, you are just as much slave to television as if you were sitting in front of the current broadcast. Justify it all you want, it will not change the fact that you are stuck on some mindless drivel presented as entertainment.

I am not a Luddite. I have acquired my share of wonderful devices, however short-lived they were due to technological advances. Although I have never bought an eight-track player, I did many other things like that were just as futile. I am not into blue ray yet.

Once in a while while traveling I was subjected to the many channels offered through the hotel’s service. I found myself clicking through a lot of stuff until I came around a number of times to see the same offerings. That is when I turned it off, put on some music, and got one of the several books that I may have been reading at the time.

Although I like movies, they can never do justice to a story presented in a book. Imagination is a wonderful thing that is much ignored when one is overwhelmed by special effects to dramatize some non-essential aspect of a story. That is one of the reasons why I could never get involved with pornography: continuous (yawn) special effects.

Occasionally mindless drivel is exactly what one needs to get away from the tension pressed on us by everyday events. I could use TV. Then again, I can pop an old movie into the DVD player, and have a great time without the pressure of timing, programming, or worries over FBI warnings of fines and prison time. So, over the years, I grew away from television.

In many blogs having to do with FLR it is stated that “she has the remote” meaning, the remote controller to the TV. Whoa! I am really impressed. That is truly a female in charge! Imagine having control of the remote without having to worry about your resident jock wanting to watch wrestling or whatever.

Ok, I am being sarcastic. For one thing, I try to stay away from remote controllers. I generally find it easier to just push the damn button on the actual device then try to figure out which remote control does what to whom. Alas, some devices of late no longer have physical buttons to push or turn, so one is stuck with the damn remote controller. Of course, if a cat is sitting between one and the device, or if the battery has gone past its life, etc., one is still obliged to do the brutish physical thing as opposed to the expected esoteric approach.

One of the problems with this evolution of remote-controlled devices is that there is a proliferation of them in one’s abode. Many are gathering dust because nobody remembers what they are supposed to control. If the house is large, the issue is not that of spatial accommodation, rather, it has to do with “where the hell is the damn remote control this [whatever]?” and “Damn, it’s the wrong one.” As I said, I usually get around that by not relying on them. Then again, some things cannot be done without the controller, so I am screwed.

This was a roundabout way to get to my point. In my life, the woman has the remote controller to just about anything. For example, the signaling device. Even this morning we were doing some maintenance on some equipment in our home. She needed my brute force to do some things occasionally while I was doing other things in a distant part of the house. She was not expected to telephone me or to yell to summon me. It was obvious that the signaling device had to be installed on my appropriate parts. Now there is a useful instrument.

She said, “When you are zapped once, it means I want you here.”

“Where is here my dear?”

“Wherever I am, my love.”

“Oh.”

“When you get zapped repeatedly, it means that I am messing with you.”

“Oh.”

But that is not what I was really talking about here. MW has a remote control that is not electronic in nature. As we sip coffee I am looking at her round knees and very feminine charms above. I am sitting on the floor close enough to pick up her scent if she were to spread her knees. At this distance remote control is not an issue. She can do the manual thing, since I am reachable through tactile input or the scent thing. But let us assume that I am doing some chores across the room from her. She spreads her knees, and I see the movement. I zero in on the center of my existence. She need not say a word to get me to do things. She has the most powerful remote control in life. And it requires no batteries.

An Old Issue To Lay To Rest

A few days ago I posed a question: “Should I switch to using an intercom or continue with the signaling device that allows MW to summon me on a painful moment’s notice?”

Well, you out there have not said a word, which had not helped me at all. I must assume that you don’t give a you-know-what. Meanwhile I have do deal with reality. As most of us relatively sane participants in life know, sometimes “Reality hits the fan.”

It was a bit before sunrise that I went to see why MW has not summoned me via the intercom. She was sitting in front of her computer beating the hell out of the keyboard as part of typing something meaningful.

“You are up. You did not summon me,” I stated the obvious.

“The thing didn’t work,” she answered.

“Maybe it needs to be turned on.” I went to the intercom and checked. Sure enough, it was not turned on. “Any chance that you could turn the knob before you try to summon me? I asked.

“There is no knob on the controller that I tried,” she responded while holding the controller to the signaling device between us.

“Oh.” I kind of got her meaning even before she applied a technique we used in karate. It was called, “squeezing the peach.”

So, all of you silent readers, may rest assured that your answers are no longer considered in the decision. MW made it, and I am back to wearing the [frigging] signaling device. Ouch.

Who Is Responsible For Exterminating The Vermin?

I am a citizen of the United States of America. My opinions are from that point of view.

A sweet lady left a comment on The Dinghy. Her question to me was, “But why do you think it [is] the Americans responsibility to rid the high seas of pirates? The time for the US to be the custodian is passing. I await the Chinese navy to solve the piracy problem on the east coast of Africa given how much trade the Chinese do with Africa and how much weaponry the Chinese have sold to them.”

It is a good question, and I would love to address it. Also, I agree with her two statements.

First I want to state that I don’t believe, and never advocated the idea that the USA alone should rid the high seas of pirates. Personally, if I could pull a trigger and be rid of all pirates, I would have no problem doing so. But reality does not work that way. I will get back to this.

A very profound statement is attributed to one of our presidents, Theodore Roosevelt: “Speak softly and carry a big stick.” The issue of USA being the custodian of the world is very controversial. My opinion is that is that this country never should have been the world police. I would rather live in a society that knows its worth, leaves all other countries alone, and strikes back with devastation if attacked. This belief is patterned after my own personal values with respect to people around me. I am polite and willing to serve, just don't mess with me.

What I hint above is essentially isolationism. But most of us are realistic enough to know that in today’s world that is not entirely possible. There are alternatives. Just as I rely on the local police to clean up the mess caused by criminals, today’s civilized world could rely on a world government to provide that sort of service. In fact, in our current administration there is a strong tendency to advocate exactly that. The problem is that this world is not yet ready for it. I definitely don’t advocate a one-world government at this time. The simple reason is that there is too much corruption even on a local level, and I would hate to experience what the emperor or empress would do.

A potentially viable alternative is relying on the United Nations to be the world police. They could, in theory, remove the piracy threat. Alas, they cannot and will not. If the UN were a man, he could not find his dick in the dark. This is why NATO is as prominent as it is in providing stability and force where the UN should have. The UN has had many “resolutions” to prohibit nasty dictators from doing evil things to their people, their neighbors, and to distant countries. And when these dictators do whatever they want, the UN makes still more resolutions. This is also why the USA is in Afghanistan and Iraq today. I would not trust the UN leadership to change the litter in my cat’s box.

The remaining alternative for the piracy problem is decisive action by those affected by it. There was a time in the history of the USA when our citizens could travel the world and be assured that if he or she were in trouble, the USA would take action in their behalf. Alas, those days are over. This was well demonstrated by former president Carter with respect to the Iranian “students” taking and holding Americans hostage. Carter did make an attempt to rescue the hostages. Of course, when politicians make decisions on the details of a critical mission, it is bound to fail, and so did this. It was not until president Reagan took office that the Ayatollah decided to let our people go. His holiness realized that he was no longer dealing with an impotent peacenik.

I said days before the dinghy rescue event that our Navy could take care of the situation if allowed to do so. Once their leash was dropped, they did. Of course, now we have made the pirates angry, and they have threatened to treat Americans with extreme prejudice. I won’t go into details, for we all have some ideas on how to handle this. I have already proposed one, and there is just one more. First, our navy must protect American ships. Next thing is to search and destroy all pirates in coastal areas and the seas. Once other nations see that this is possible, the pirates would not have a chance. This would also demonstrate that we take it very personally if any of our citizens are arbitrarily put in jeopardy. I also see no reason why other nations should or could not do the same. Of course, this action would take balls.

Our Navy has balls, whereas our government is emasculated. Our only hope is that the UN will protect us while we sit in trepidation.

I see another UN resolution coming. Assuming the pirates can read, maybe they will laugh themselves to death.

A Matter Of Communication ...

I have introduced and then referred to the signaling device a number of times such as in A Sunday Morning. The device itself is insignificant, but can be as much pain in the balls as a hard plastic chastity device. The features, reactions, and purpose are different, but still are an almost constant discomfort and occasionally serious pain.

For some years now I have been up early to begin my day hours before MW does hers. What I do in this twilight interval is not relevant to this post. However, I do like to connect with her when she is ready to be up. The signaling device has been an almost 100% reliable way to get my attention when she is ready some hours later. She wakes and looks at the clock. It is too early for her, so she goes back to sleep. At some point she is awake again, and decides that it is time to begin her day. She reaches for the controlling device hanging on the wall next to her bed. She pushes the button closest to the end, and the rest is up to me. It is such a simple act on her part, that even in half sleep, which she had done many times, it works.

Some other reasons for her to summon me during these times may show up occasionally in the form of furry creatures who need to be tossed from her bed so that she can be comfortable. I am not talking about vermin although from time to time they may be considered such. Cats generally. We keep our big dogs outside so that they can protect us from vermin of two or four-legged variety.

You might think that the arrangement is equitable and satisfactory to both of us. With her being in charge I am sure that it is. With me being the executor of her arbitrary will, I have some issues.

I often make very strong and very hot coffee in the early morning hours while I bide my time away from MW. If she senses a five hundred pound immovable mass behind her butt that she wants me to move, she will reach for her controller and push the button. All that is appropriate. However, the result of the controller’s message to the device that I wear around my very private parts is a jolt. Combine that with sipping hot coffee and you could see a potential problem. Yes, I could skip the coffee, but I would still experience the jolt. MW is not really perverse, just a little on the appreciative side of the sounds I make inadvertently as a result. She says that she would miss it if we did not do this thing.

Some time ago I bought some home communication devices that are entirely conventional. No zapping of private parts is suggested, or even possible without extreme modification of the basic units. They are like the old-fashioned “intercom” units where one pushes a button to talk, and then releases it to listen. I thought that these would be perfect under our circumstances. Alas, MW misses the maniacal scream that I provide with the signaling device. As I said, the intercom is strictly benign. Whether or not I will continue with the intercom, or resume the use of the signaling device remains to be seen. Anyone with a suggestion?

The Dinghy

Our navy is capable of removing entire countries from the face of the earth, yet it is handicapped with indecision and political correctness from the top down to the lowest rank.

Can anyone tell me why it is impossible to extract a hostage held by four cutthroats in a rubber boat? I am no expert, but any non-commissioned officer could organize a rescue party, and take care of this situation. Has anyone heard of concussion grenades? Or a hoist to lift the dinghy from the water and plop it down on the deck with a number of guns pointing at it? Could not our Navy Seals move in and scuttle the dinghy so that these criminals’ first concern would be breathing rather than ransom? What the hell is so difficult about this?

Next thing we know our spineless government will set up an embassy in Somalia and begin negotiations with pirates. We will apologize to them for being in their waters, and admit that they have a legitimate business of kidnap and extortion for money. Then we will give them foreign aid so that they no longer will have to risk their lives on such a dangerous carrier. Our navy will give them a ride back to shore.

Sheesh, is not anybody in charge here? I don't think that Mr. Obama needs to handle this himself. This is a simple police action on the high seas, and the Navy can take care of it. The problem is, Mr. Obama is not handling it, and is apparently not allowing anyone else to handle it. What is he going to do when something really bad happens, such as trying to deal with the North Koreans or the Iranians? Is he going to apologize again and hope that they will not be too angry with us?

If this is a precedent for how this administration is handling situations, we are doomed.

No Balls

I have been monitoring the development of the American ship’s abduction by the Somalian pirates. I don’t have the details, but if the ship’s crew re-took ownership of the ship from the criminals, I salute them. They have balls, as opposed to our government.

Meanwhile, our illustrious President was asked for a comment about what he will do about these criminals. His comment was, “No comment”. Read that as “I have not a clue”.

I am not the president of the most powerful country on Earth, but I can guess that in his place I would have said something different. Something like, “Watch and learn.” Here is what I mean.

I would have sent a large war ship to the coast of Somalia to make a presence. I would have sent a team of Navy seals to gather positions of the local villas and estates of the newly rich pirates. I would have then sent a helicopter over the land and drop leaflets that would provide the information in their language as follows:

Your pirates have done an act of aggression against the United States of America by attacking one of our ships. We have nothing against Somalia, but we are in the process of eliminating the criminals (pirates) that you harbor. At five hours Greenwich Mean Time from now the estates of these criminals will be destroyed. If you are near these targets, it would be advisable for you to leave.

Then five hours after, the big ship’s guns would use the GPS coordinates of these estates to pinpoint the center of destruction and proceed. After the dust settled pirates would no longer consider taking an American ship as a hostage. Of course, I am not the president of the United States of America. Also, I have balls. Our president without balls cannot afford to insult anyone in Somalia on account of their being … ah you know, “not white” and also, maybe ah you know, “not Christian” and after all, this is an “international matter” and the UN should [please] take care of it for us.

I am about to paraphrase Michelle Obama’s speech as she said,

“For the First Time in My Adult Lifetime, I'm Really Proud of My Country ...” referring to her husband’s nomination to presidency."

My statement is,

“For the First Time in My Adult Lifetime I am really ashamed of My Country considering asking permission from anyone to kill these criminals with extreme prejudice.“

What I would do is vaporize them, and thereby, set a precedent. Piracy, as we have it today, would become history. And I would not give a damn about how any country or religious sect feels about it. We don't mess with you, but if you mess with us, you die.

The problem is, we don't have a president who sees it that way. His way is to apologize for the USA being here. Well damn, we were here before he was borne. It is not his position to apologize for anything.

Who Says FLR Is All About Sex?

Great Kate seems to have FLR figured out. If you want to know the details, check out It didn't happen over night. At least, she has figured out the sex part pertaining to the dominant woman, and oh, by the way, to the submissive man.

First I want to say that I see nothing wrong with her view … as long as it works. Most would-be submissive men would love to serve a woman such as she. The reason I really like her approach is that she admits, maybe not in so many words, “FLR is about sex.” Primarily about her sex, and then the spillover about his sex. Everybody is happy.

This is what I have been saying all along. It a may be a great and wonderful thing to serve a deserving woman in all ways: cleaning her toilet, doing her laundry, washing her car, keeping her house spotless, etc. It is a worthy cause as long as she appreciates it. But, nothing happens in vacuum, whereas everything else happens in some loaded space: “FLR is about sex,” and don’t you forget that.

This is what Great Kate says. She does not exactly distill her view into such few words, but you can figure it out quickly. Without the sex component the relationship will last only for a while, until one gets tired of serving or the other gets tired of responding to whiney submissives. But while it lasts, damn, it can be a blast.