Milking it for All It's Worth

Dear Recipient,
Well, more frustration for me. Even though I didn't take any wrong turns this time, Mistress Sassa said pointed out that I've gone waaaay longer than this not cumming. Of course, she whispered this to me while she was sitting in the passenger seat in next to nothing, tugging teasingly at the lock on my cage. I would have started begging, but I know that will just make matters worse.
No one knows who built Aneros-Henge, but some scientists hypothesize it was some ancient culture who had harnessed the power of orgasm denial to call upon the great Pagan goddess, Sassafrassus. Legend has it she would descend from on high, work the men into a lather, and then flip a coin to decide if they got to cum or not. Being a goddess, however, she had the power to control the result. As the story goes, the pleas for relief could be heard hundreds of miles away. In their misguided quest for release, the wisest men of the group invented the Aneros. Sadly, even the wisest men didn't understand the concept of scale...
Well, Ms Sassa is calling me back to the car. I better hurry, this might be my lucky day at last!!!

-ace

P.S. It's okay... I know my plants have died by now.

Simply Having a Ball

Dear Friends,

It took much longer than expected, but I finally got us to the first stop on the Kinky Road Trip Mistress Sassa and I are taking. I'm standing as I type this, as Mistress paddled me once for every wrong turn I took when I was driving. (We're a month behind schedule, so you can imagine...)

This is a postcard from the World's Biggest Ball Gag, which is a bit off the beaten path... About 30 minutes from Brasslewood, Georgia. As you can see, it's one hell of a gag. I had been whining to Miss Sassa that I hadn't got to cum in a few days, and she threatened to gag me if I didn't quiet down. As soon as I saw her grin at this thing, I shut up good.

This historic ball gag was built by Eulene G. Stodbot in 1973 in response to the Godzilla Attack fears of that decade. Stodbot surmised that gagging the nuclear monster would prevent him from breathing fire and bloody terror down upon the good people of Georgia. Unfortunately, Godzilla was fictional and Stodbot, who tested all his own inventions, developed a horrible, chronic bout of TMJ. Defeated, Stodbot tossed the gag into a nearby cornfield, where it remains to this day.

Mistress Sassa promises me that, if I can get to our next landmark in a timely fashion, she'll consider unlocking my cock cage for a little bit. She won't go into details... Is a little bit five seconds or five days? Is there a chance I might get to cum when it comes off? She's not saying, so I guess I'll just try to be a good tiger and not make any more mistakes. I'm sure I can persuade her with my tiger charms to let me have a little relief, right? RIGHT?!!! GRRRROOOOOOWLLLLLL!!! It's been so long!!!

Pleeeeeaaaase, Miss Sassa? PLEAAAAASE?

Eh, er... Um... Anyway.... Hope this postcard finds you all well. I didn't think I was going to spend the whole trip being teased and tormented, but I am with Miss Kinkerbell herself, Mistress Sassa. I should have known!

Well Wishes,
ace

P.S. jem, did you remember to water my plants?
P.P.S. Billy, did you remember to remind jem to water my plants?

The Road Goes Ever On...

It's been another long while since I've been able to post here, but there's been some great advancements in my service to Mistress Sassa. Now that she's turned the cookie factory into a kinky factory, she's had a LOT more access to devices designed to tame the modern tiger. Here I sit at my keyboard, the CB-30,000 locked on to keep me from growling too loud, the fang-proof ball gag firmly in place, and three of my four paws shackled to the chair. Mistress Sassa says I might have a chance of getting some relief as long as I update you on my latest adventures before Midnight on February 14th... Otherwise, it's the televibe for me! (And I know what you're thinking... What kind of punishment is that? Well, if you've ever called Ms. Sassa, you know how her mind works. Any fun toy can be an instrument of pure torture. Hmmm... Now that I think about it, that might not be so bad after all.)

Starting this weekend, Mistress has ordered me (like she even needs to at this point) to join her in her cross country tour to the Ten Most Kinky Landmarks in America. It's going to take weeks to see everything, so I hope she plans on giving me a little relief from the cage before we go. (Please? Pleeeeeeeease?) Once we're on the road, I'm sure it's gonna be all about how worked up and growly she can make me while I'm all locked up and at her mercy. I'm in charge of the map, but with my lack of opposable thumbs and ball gag preventing me from speaking, I have a feeling I'll get paddled on nearly every leg of our journey.

On our way, Mistress has told me we may make some extra stops. I'm really wanting to visit the home towns of my old pals from days gone by. If you're reading this, don't be surprised if a large, whiny, locked up tiger and his absolutely stunning owner soon appear on your doorstep. And DON'T try to pretend you're not home! I'm a tiger, for pete's sake. I'll just burst through the door if I have to. And you'd better have some water ready, because long-term denial tigers tend to get parched.

I can't believe Mistress Sassa's willing to let me share this journey with her! I'm the luckiest tiger in the world! Now I'll just post this and let the timestamp show that I finished my task before midnight. Whew, that was a close one.