by pwnedpuppy

When i fly out to visit Sir, my servitude really begins before i even leave.

The clothes Sir orders me to wear for the flight are pretty simple and remain the same regardless if its freezing cold outside or we’re in the middle of a heatwave. In a way, it’s my uniform.

Plain white t-shirt, 501s, white socks, no underwear. A pair of plain black Vans slip-ons. No hoodie, no jacket, no alterations to the prescribed outfit. i am unremarkable in my appearance.

In my backpack, a simple haul – an envelope containing the chain and collar Sir has sent which i’m to wear after clearing security. No key. my wallet minus my photo ID (which i need to get on the plane) is put inside an interior pocket of the rucksack. So is my cell phone. They are not to be removed for any reason. That’s it.

In fact, no extra clothes are needed. What i’m wearing today will be stripped and put away once i arrive at Sir’s house. These are the same clothes i wear home. Any other clothes i wear over the next several days are chosen and purchased by Sir and are kept at His house. He enjoys to keep me naked most of the time if i’m not gimped up. But there are some outfits He likes to see me in if we’re going out in public together. Other times – especially if i’m spending lots of time outdoors or in rougher settings, He’ll lay out a series of work clothes for me – boots, Carhartts. Or just a pair of oversized coveralls – a plain covering absent of any style but enough material to keep me covered if it’s too chilly. But all of these outfits – like everything else during a visit – are His choice.

After clearing security, i’m to go to the bathroom, find an empty stall and put on His collar. It’s a simple but heavy silver chain with a slightly bigger-than-needed black Master padlock. Once it’s locked on, i pull the padlock over my shirt so that it is visible and i throw away the mailer envelope it came in as i head to my gate.

While i wait, my actions are limited. No airport food, no coffee, no beer in the airport lounge. i am allowed to drink water from the fountain as required so i don’t get dehydrated, but once that collar is locked on, all i’m to do is wait for my flight.  i’m also not permitted to urinate until i see Him, so it’s a matter of managing my liquids intake.

The flight is booked by Him and it’s usually a nighttime flight. The seat is chosen by Him and it’s always the middle and usually at the back of the plane… you know, the ones that don’t recline. i’m never allowed to change the seat or move seats in any way unless ordered by a flight attendant. If my seatmates don’t show up, i’m not allowed to sprawl out across the unused seats. my backpack is to go under the seat in front of me – taking up legroom, but allowing those who aren’t slaves to use the overhead bins for more important things.

Once onboard, i’m not allowed to do anything that would keep my mind busy for the duration of the two hours in the air.  If there’s an entertainment system, i’m to turn off my screen.  If there’s an in-flight magazine, i’m not allowed to read it.  During drink service, i’m allowed to ask for one glass of water, no ice.  But no more… and, again, no making use of the lavatory.

Sir does allow me to sleep on the flight. He’d rather have a well-rested slave arrive than not – it keeps the options open if He decides i’ll be needed for a late night of play or service ahead.

Upon landing, i wait for the rest of the plane to clear out.  Putting my backpack over my shoulders, i walk off the plane not speaking a word. i proceed to the arrivals area where Sir is waiting. He is bigger than me, about 6-foot-3, clad in a heavy leather jacket, jeans, a t-shirt, and leather motorcycle boots. He is a beast of a man compared to me.

i am not to say anything as i walk toward Him.

It’s fitting He picks me up at the baggage claim area. Without anything on the conveyor belt, He has claimed His property.

He smiles seeing the contrast of the black Master padlock against my white t-shirt. As i draw near, He puts His leather-gloved hand on my shoulder and proceeds to walk with me out to His black crew-cab pickup truck parked a considerable distance away from the terminal. We are out of the way of prying eyes.

When we approach the truck, He takes my backpack from me and opens the driver’s side doors.  He throws the backpack on the passenger seat and ushers me to sit on the passenger side of the bench seat in the back of the crew cab.  i shuffle my way over and snap my seatbelt into place. He shuts the back door, climbs into the driver seat, and closes His door. The cab is plunged into darkness, save for a few dashboard lights.

The windows around me are heavily tinted and nobody can see inside the back of the truck.

Sir turns on an interior light and tells me to look down – there are ankle cuffs.  i’m to put them on.  He then reaches into the console unit beside Him, grabs a few items and hands them to me.  A padded leather blindfold and a pair of earplugs are now in my hands.  i roll the foam earplugs and insert them deeply.  As they grow and crush out any semblance of sound, He motions to put on the blindfold. i do, and the world is completely shut out, save for a tiny bit of light bleeding in underneath the leather of the mask.

Sir turns off the light, starts up the truck and puts it into drive.  i am to sit quietly as the truck makes its way back to his acreage… a route i’ve never seen before but fully trust Him to navigate.

Decisions are no longer mine for the rest of this visit. He is in control.  i am His property.

Thanks to pwnedpuppy for writing “i am His”

Today’s story is sponsored by Bad Boys Boot Camp