Beep! Beep! The metal detector went wild as he tried to pass through. “Could you please step aside,” the female security guard asked Grumbling, he moved over - then again, he expected some difficulty. Chaste males often ran into issues, particularly when they were trying to leave the country. “Are you in a cage, sir?” The guard asked. “Yes, ma’am”, he replied. “As you can see on my papers, my keyholder’s already signed off.” Snap, she pulled on a pair of latex gloves. Picking up the scanner, she brusquely insisted, “may I inspect your tags?” Sighing, he undid his fly, and pulled the metal tube out. The tag and accompanying lock spilled out for the world to see. Frowning slightly, the guard pulled him forward slightly by his chastity tag, and scanned the engraved barcode. Bloop, blip! The reader spat. “Louise, could you come to line three,” the guard spoke into her microphone. Turning back to him, she asked, “Are you Richard Thomkis?” “I am,” he replied, frustrated. “Is there a problem?” Ignoring him, “could you lift up you shirt, sir? And hold out the waist of your pants,” she insisted. “I need to see your tattoo.” Grumbling slightly, he complied, exposing a pseudo-signature font “Emily’s”, floating above his barcode. Located just above his chastity cage, it marked him as an officially chastized male. The security guard ran the scanner over his tattoo, and again, it went, Bloop! Blip! As she continued to stare at his tattoo, he tried to shrug off a growing feeling of unease. “Really, is something wrong? I kind of have a flight to catch.” He asked. The security guard started to answer, only to be interrupted when another security guard - Louse, he guessed - showed up. The two security guards exchanged a flurry of whispers, with the first one pointing repeatdly at the scanner. At Lousie’s gesture, he exposed his tattoo again. She quickly rescanned the tattoo, frowned at the result, and then ran her fingers over his tattoo. Blinking twice, Louise asked him, “Sir, do you know an Angela Morris?” Puzzled, he replied, “Sure. Angela Morris was my first keyholder. She even took me to get barcoded.” Memories flooded through him, and he was a bit off when he continued, “we broke up about two years.” The guards looked at each other. The first backed up, and started talking into her microphone again. Louise, her eyes narrowing, “then why does your tattoo say, ‘Emily’s’?” Not understanding the problem, he shrugged. “Emily is a bit . . . possessive. Wearing Angela’s name bothered her a lot, so she insisted I get it changed.” Two more female security guards - this time looking slightly scary - had shown up during the interlude. Louise pulled out a tray, and set it in front of him. “Please undress, sir. You can put your clothes in here?” His eyes shot wide, as he noticed all of the people passing through security. Young, old, women and children - the airport was busy today. “You. Want me. To strip down . . . in front of all of these people?” “Sir,” she said frostily. “Are you refusing an order from a free woman, and a member of airport security?” That got his attention - even if this was some kind of mistake, as a chastized male . . . well, he’d be in big trouble if he refused . . . His shoes, belt, and miscellaneous things were already off, waiting in line to go through the X-ray machine. Just the clothes were left. The shirt came off easily, as did the socks. The pants he hesitated a bit with, and tried to stall a bit by folding them. Louise tapped her fingers impatiently, “the boxers, Mr. Thomkis” In a quick rush, he pulled them down, and quickly dumped them in the tray. Amidst all of the hustle and bustle, he was now slave naked in front of everyone He was in reasonably good shape, so that wasn’t much of an issue. But he was totally shorn of body hair , and the chastity cage was obvious. The metal tube completely covered his penis, and the restraining cockring forced his testicles forced, brazenly on display for everyone. “What’s with that man,” a childlike voice asked. A woman’s voice hushed him, replying, “that’s what happens to bad boys, Preston. So make sure you’re a good boy for your Mommy” Blushing, Richard almost missed Louise pick up the tray containing his clothes and start away. “Hey,” he cried out, “those are mine. Where are you going with them?” Louise stopped him with a hand, as the two scary female guards jerked to attention. “I’m afraid we have to confiscate them for a moment, Mr. Thomkiss, at least until we straighten this out” “Straighten what out?” He demanded. “I’m going to miss my flight. I’m standing here nude in the middle of the airport. And now you’re walking off with my clothes. What could possibly need straightening out?” “Did you know you’re under travel restriction?” Louise retorted icily. “Two years and five months ago, your keyholder Angela Morris reported you as an escape risk. You are not allowed to fly without a keyholder present, not with those present.” She gestured at his testicles, “and now you tell me that your tattoo has been altered.” “But . . . but . . . “ he sputtered. Shaking his head, “Angela hasn’t been my keyholder in two years. And like I told you, Emily insisted that I wear her name, not Angela’s.” “Sir”, she cut in. “So you say. But this ‘Emily’ never filed any paperwork to rescind the travel restriction. We are trying to contact her, but until we do, we have to assume you are attempting to run from your keyholder.”
“We need to inspect the integrity of your chastity device” The guard spent several minutes tugging on his chastity cage. Fondling his testicles to make sure they couldn’t slip through the ring, double checking the lock fully closed through his piercing . . . in general, making sure that the chastity device fully neutered his masculinity. It was fully secure - Emily would’ve never let him leave the house without a faulty chastity cage. But attention was attention, and even his chastity cage couldn’t change that. His penis tried to erect within the limits of its prison . . . “Sir,” the guard snapped, “control yourself. Failure to control your sex in the presence of any female . . .and an officer of the law, at that. We will have to report this.”