This is a companion piece to "Locktober Already", which introduced Marsha and Mike and their best friends, Jan and Ryan and "Locktober for Mike", which was Marsha and Mike's story. While this story is written to stand on its own, better context can be achieved by reading "Locktober Already" first and then "Locktober for Mike", or, to get the backstories, after reading this piece. All are intended to engage the imagination of the reader. This is the story of what happens at the end of Locktober, which both Ryan and Mike have consensually participated. (For the uninitiated, Locktober is the term for the month of October, during which a man is consensually locked in a cock cage for the duration of the month.) If you are not interested in consensual relationships or if the mention of cock cages somehow threatens your masculinity, you should probably skip this piece and read something more to your liking.
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So, here I am at the airport, standing in line waiting to go through the TSA screening checkpoint. My wife, Jan, had assured me when she booked the flight at the last moment that cock cages were not among the listed prohibited items. Nevertheless, I envision the worst. Jan is in front of me in the line for the full body scanner. We both had just one, small carry-on bag. We had each previously checked a hastily packed suitcase at the check-in counter.
This trip to Florida was a last-minute decision; a decision I had readily agreed to when I discovered that our close friend, Marsha, who was now on her way to Florida with her husband, Mike, for the winter, had the only key to my stainless-steel chastity cage. Sure, I could have cut it off or drilled the internal lock to remove the cage, but that would have terminated the agreement that Jan and I had regarding our sex life. A little embarrassment at the airport would be small change compared with huge dividends I got from sex with Jan. Occasional chastity was just one minor part of our sex life, which was continually evolving and adding kink components each year. Even after twenty years of marriage, we were both still very much in love and finding new ways to please each other. Besides, Jan was still just as hot as was when we began dating in college.
Jan stepped into the scanner, raised her arms, and was quickly waved on through.
I stepped in, placed my feet on the yellow foot outlines, and raised my arms. An eternity passed as the female TSA agent looked first at the screen and then back to me.
"Excuse me, sir, would you mind stepping on through? I'm afraid you'll have to have a separate screening. A male agent will be here shortly. Are you wearing any medical devices? ... in this area?" she added and motioned to the groin area.
I felt my face burn and imagined that I was turning six shades of red. "No medical devices, but I am wearing a chastity device," my voiced trailed off with the last few words.
"Excuse me?" She said and leaned in a bit closer. "I couldn't hear you."
As I leaned in as close as I could to the agent, I caught a glimpse of Jan who was trying to cover her broad grin with her hand but the twinkle in her eyes betrayed her mirth. "I'm wearing a chastity cage," I whispered to the agent.
She relayed my message to the male TSA agent who had just arrived. He gave me a quizzical look and gestured for me to spread my legs and hold out my arms. I did as he directed. He waved a metal detector wand over my body, eventually narrowing the search to my groin.
"Sir, I'm going to have to do a pat down," he stated matter-of-factly and handed the wand to his cohort.
By this time, I was starting to attract quite an audience, many of whom were openly grinning as broadly as Jan. "Whatever you need to do to move this along," I replied as I started reconsidering my decision not to cut the cage off.
The agent ran the backs of his hands up each of my legs until they banged into my cage. He repeated the procedure several more times, each time moving a bit higher and with a bit more force.
"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to remove your devise for inspection."
"I can't remove it; I don't have the key, but I'll show it to you if necessary," I said as I lowered my arms and assumed a more comfortable position.
"Are you traveling alone, Sir?" the agent asked.
"No, I'm traveling with my wife. Why do you ask?"
"Well, could she unlock you so we can inspect the device?"
"No, I'm afraid not. She doesn't have the key, it's with our friend in Florida. That's why we're going on this trip." This screening had quickly morphed from an embarrassing incident into a pain-in-the-ass ordeal.
I saw Jan approach the female TSA agent, whisper in her ear, and motion at me and then the separate inspection area. The agent smiled and then whispered to her cohort.
"Okay, sir, would you please just step into the inspection room?" he said and motioned me toward the inspection area, which was little more than a high-walled cubical with a door. I entered the area and he closed the door behind me. "Would you please display the devise for inspection?"
I dropped my pants and briefs and lifted the cage so the agent could see that I was not concealing any dangerous materials or ordinance in my pants. He looked at it from the front and both sides and concluded that it was harmless to everyone except perhaps me. "Thank you, sir, for your cooperation. Have a nice trip." He motioned me to the door. "Good luck with getting that key," he added with a broad grin.
I pulled up my briefs and pants and was still tucking my shirt in as I left the cubicle. The small crowd that had gathered at the end of the screening lane broke out in applause, with Jan leading the cheers. I took a mock bow, picked up my screened items from the end of the conveyor, and rejoined Jan.
"Are we going to miss our flight?" I asked as we began walking toward our gate.
"No, we've got plenty of time. I thought there might be a little delay with screening, so I allowed an extra half hour," Jan said as she gave my hand a little squeeze. "I had a nice little chat with the TSA agent while you were in the inspection area. I think she may try a cage with her boyfriend. Did you have fun?"
"I wouldn't call it fun exactly. It was ... interesting," I said. "I'm curious, though, you had told me it was permissible to go through screening with a cage on, but you added an extra half hour for the screening?"
"I told you the cage wasn't on the prohibited list. Reading some of the blog postings, I thought you might get a little extra scrutiny, but I knew you could weather the storm."
"Well, it certainly seemed that you were quite amused by my ordeal."
"You have to admit, it was kind of funny."
"I suppose so, but it was a little embarrassing to get cheered by the other passengers."
"Don't be embarrassed! They were all rooting for you once I told them what was going on!"
"You told them that TSA was checking out my cock cage?"
"Well, you didn't want me to let them think they were giving you so much more attention than everyone else because you were a terrorist or worse, did you?"
"No, I guess not. It's just that I noticed quite a few of the gallery are also on our flight. It just makes things a little ... uncomfortable."
"Don't worry. Half of the men wish they were you and most of the women wish they were me."
We boarded the plane and took off on schedule, non-stop to Florida and, hopefully, my key.
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