Waiting for My New Boy.

It is just over two years now that I have been single and coming up to my third Christmas.

In some respects it seems like a lifetime, in others, barely the blink of an eye. 

One thing that is blatantly clear to me, (I knew before it even happened), is that I detest being single. It is a painful, terrible place for me and something that I have not had to suffer in my adult life before but I can't accept anything less than what my soul truly needs.

I have had vanilla dates and kink dates this year. Nothing is really working for me.

It is because I desire one specific thing. A man who CRAVES to have his cock locked away by me and wants to fall into the depths of all that entails. He wants it so badly he is ready when he approaches me. He has the cage, he knows as much about it as I do and he needs me just as badly as I need him.

He has a beautiful, shiny metal cage and a piercing to secure it in place. He has been looking for me for as long as I have been looking for him.

He has to exist.

Just as I was KH_inmyDreams, searching more than a decade ago, here I am on that arduous journey yet again, in need of the one man who can give me what I need, who feels like 'home' when I am with him, and through the interdependence of strict chastity control brings the binding of a web-like thread around us.

He has fantasised about it from being a boy, I am sure and his attempts to fit in to a vanilla relationship have just left him empty and unfulfilled.

He doesn't just crave chastity. He craves to submit to the will of the woman he is controlled by, to be controlled in all respects. He is willing to give up everything for me. In giving eveything up, he gains more. He gains the absolute bliss of being held by the woman of his dreams. Knowing that she is iron, and when he melts at her feet she will pick him up, with the tip of her finger, and dangle him wherever she pleases.

He will be bound, sensory deprived, suffocated with her control to a place where his belly becomes queasy and heavy and he just submits to whatever she says, to whatever she does. She could take his last breath and he would give it.

All with him dangling from her finger tip.

My finger tip is waiting for its victim. I am waiting to prod and tease and whisper and adore..

the man who presents himself to me for complete ownership.

I remain, 

Mistress KeyHolder.

KH_inmydreams - Again

19th September 2022

Today was the funeral of Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth II. I, along with millions of others, watched the state funeral and stood to observe Her final journey from Westminster. I shed tears both for Her Majesty but also for my own mourning.

It is one year to the day since my boy, Daddy as he was later renamed, gathered his belongings and left my/our home. It has taken me all this time to be able to write about it and the year that has passed since.

For the first 6 months, we tried, although living separately, we tried to stay together, one of us trying and then the other, but at the 6 month mark, I realised something was very wrong and our communications ended with us both saying we loved each other and our final text message being a reciprocated kiss. It was only a few weeks later that I found out he was living with somebody else.

The pain of this was almost more than I could bear. Suffocating. It was as if our roles were swapped and he held the plastic bag over my head.

It has been a year of trauma. I am still traumatised and in a state of shock. My tummy still hurts. Every single morning I wake I still can't believe that he won't be there next to me. I just can't comprehend that the man who devoted himself so commitedly could leave me without any discussion, explanation or care for my feelings. It was as if I had never even existed.

For the past 6 months I have waited, hanging on our last messages of love to each other, for him to return. I will get criticised, I'm sure, by my followers for not being a strong, dominant woman and for allowing him to do this to me when I should have just got rid a long time ago, but true love does something to alter that. I couldn't just give up on the love of my life. This was how I saw him - the Love of my Life.

He gave me the dream that I only tentatively believed I might experience in my lifetime. I couldn't just give up on 9 years of investment, of the future we'd planned and talked about for so long, of the intense connection I had with him, and I thought he had with me. On his family which I called mine and of our vanilla life, again I became part of his world because I chose to, because I loved it, and it suited me so well.

So every single day I waited for a text, a phone call, a visit. And every day I became more and more disheartened and disappointed. Time wasn't healing. Time was taking me deeper and deeper into a state of sadness because I really did think he would one day come back to me, and I would have accepted him, and made us recover.

I still can't believe it. I can't believe he gave up on us, that he chose someone else over me. We had it all. Our vanilla life and our behind the scenes life could have been the absolute best, but it wasn't to be, for a reason I will never understand. We lost the dream.

So, as I wept for the death of our Queen, I also grieved the death of my love. To carry on living with hope was too painful, and the downward spiral was heading to a place which was not going to end well. I was struggling with depression more and more, and it got worse with each day.

My only option is to attempt to move on. This is what I have to do to save me. 

He asked me once, in our very beginning days, never to leave him. I made a commitment that I wouldn't. When I had him tattooed, I again committed to stay with him for life. It was my 'marriage' vow. I have done my best to honour that for over 180 long and difficult days, but I cannot stay with him when he is no longer here.

When I first began my search for what I thought was the impossible, a life long chastity based relationship, I called myself KH_inmydreams. It was just a dream. I'm in that same place again. Back at the beginning of what might be a very long search for the man of my dreams. 

I have tried looking on vanilla dating sites. A fetish relationship felt a sickening and pointless aim. I just couldn't bring myself to be open to such tragic failure again. But vanilla men just do not appeal to me. It is like asking me to date a woman. There is nothing there at all for me. No feeling, nothing. So I am Mistress Keyholder, looking for her dream man. 

I am as I have always been - demanding, exacting, obsessive and intensely loyal and loving. Whoever gets me will get, as Daddy called me, the woman of their dreams.

To be crushed and abandoned has been the worst experience of my life. I do not say that lightly. This really has been the most emotionally difficult thing that has ever happened to me, inflicted by the man I loved and trusted the most.

I have learnt a number of things from the past decade, one being - expect the unexpected. 

I spoke to a submissive man recently. He gave me hope that there are others out there. Genuine men who want to be dominated and live in a relationship of female control.

I seek my new love. I am open to my new submissive coming into my life. I look forward to a new and loving relationship where I am truly valued, respected and loved for the supreme being that I am.

Darling new boy, please don't take long to find me. I AM WAITING FOR YOU.

A Horrible Cycle

After boy left me in October last year, he came back. I wasn't ever going to give up hope that one day he would. I was prepared to wait for the rest of forever for him.

But, I think most break-ups go through the same process. Break-up, try again, finish. Sometimes there may be another try again... 

I had 14 weeks with boy back in my life, and it felt SO nice. So very, very nice. He put so much effort into us and I felt so loved and special. It was perfect. We went out to events and did all the things we had always talked about. We were living the dream.

But eventually, the things he had done to me previously, which we hadn't really discussed, began to eat me up. The jealousy and anger and feelings of betrayal grew in me, until one day, I blew them all out. Boy had similar feelings of anger at the things I had done to him. At the end of the evening, we were separate again.

It has been just over a month since he went.

I have tried to get him back. 

I have been in an unbearable place, but boy has given up on us. I don't believe he has any more to give me. 

Trying to live with needing him is too hard. I have come to reliase the only way I can try and get through this is to try and block thoughts of him, forget, and to recognise that he doesn't want me any more.

I have removed things from my sight, my memories which I held so dear. I try so hard to avoid seeing him becasue we live so close, but by the strangest quirks of fate, most times I leave my house I see him. I have no idea why, how.. and it hurts me so much to see that he still exists and is apart from me. My boy, that was.

I have to admit, that this break up, this time, was my fault entirely. It really was. But last time, it was his fault entirely. 

I find it hard to comprehend why two people so well matched just couldn't sychronise and make a relationship work. We had everything going for us, but between us, we destroyed it all.

I can't do anything now. I can't keep trying. There is no point. He tried, I tried. Why couldn't we both try in harmony?

I am just me. On my own. I have lost my spark. I have lost what makes me glow. I have lost my love.

Today it would have been a special day for us. It is one year until we had planned to retire together and live all the things we had planned for the past 7 years.

Now I look into my future and it is empty. 

This Doesn't Make Any Sense...

I always knew, from the day he moved into his house across the road from me, that our relationship wouldn't last until we died. I don't know how I knew, but I did.

I always knew this day would come, when we were separated.

But now it's here, I can't believe it either. We argued so much, fell out and always made up again. We always made up again. I would ask if he really wanted us to end, and he'd say, 'you know I don't".

I have thought and thought if I could have done anything different to try and make us successful. But I tried so hard I genuinely can't think of anything else I could have done. 

The fact is, he didn't want to keep trying, and no matter how much I loved him, or kept hopeful for us both, or continued to try, it couldn't make up for him not wanting me. I will never understand this, but sadly, it was true. Only 4 weeks after we ended, he was with someone new. That doesn't happen if he had loved me. I believe from his behaviours that he was working on this before he left, and how he could so coldly deny contact with me after leaving.

He changed. Regular readers here will remember when he found me, how good it was and how he loved me, was proud of me, and wanted to tell the world he was with me. He wanted me to tattoo his whole body with my art, he wanted to write on my blog, and he did the shed video for me, showing his devotion. 

He asked me to mould him, control him, and give him renewed purpose in life, and initially, this was what happened. It was fantastic, and I was so very happy. I would say to him, "Why didn't you find me sooner", and he apologised. He said that each day he wanted to make me happy, and for many months, maybe years, he would ask me each morning, "How can I please you today, Mistress?".

But he changed. He gave me everything, and then gradually took it away.

Our current life was not how we wanted it. Our living situation and holidays apart were not ideal, but we planned retirement in 18 months time. All our relationship we had talked about retirement, planned for it and looked forward to it. We had the perfect life ahead of us.

I don't understand how two people who are so right for each other just couldn't make a relationship work.

Recently, he said to me, "the essential me and the essential you are just not right for each other". If he believed that, then we were destined to fail. 

Sexually, we were so perfect for each other. Right up until the end of our relationship that part of us was vibrant and still evolving new and interesting elements. We had begun to explore my hypnosis of him, the use of audio during play, and had plans to develop videos. 

I just don't understand it.

Read back to here;

When boy loved me..

How, how could such love disappear? He begged me never to leave him - he even wrote it on my blog.. I really, really don't undertsand.

To me, we had something so good it seems ridiculous to throw it away. 

It feels like forever since I was with him. It seems like our relationship was just an amazing dream from which I'm now woken.

But then it also seems so fresh and real. I can imagine as if it were real, my lips on his belly and cocklet and his kiss. 7 years, and so much history between us, I was so proud of what I had, so grateful, and felt so lucky. I really did feel lucky. 

The hard part is that I have had no explanation. Boy just went, and there has been no discussion, no talk, just closed doors, unanswered attempts by me to contact him, blank. He never discussed with me that he wasn't happy and what we could do to make things better, although he did threaten to leave me, which put me in a neervous position for months.

I have been tormenting myself with looking at photos, at reminiscing about sexual things we have done. It hurts, and all I want is to have it back. Not the way we were, but the way we WERE. For him to put me back where I belong, and to worship me. For him to come downstairs naked and kiss my feet under the table where I worked. I so loved him doing that.

In April this year, we were making videos and we were in a very good place. He said to me, if we are still this good at Christmas, I might consider another tattoo... If I could have a wish... I would wish us back to that place.
I know that the things I am doing now, boy would absolutely LOVE. The new venues and equipment. I have been blown away with it all! I even had a ticket to take him with me to an event, as a surprise. But he chose to give all this up, for something, I have no idea what - I have no idea how life gets any better than what we had.

Inside, my inner soul remains, Mistress Keyholder.

The Rule of Mistress KeyHolder

What I am about to write here is common sense - I am stating the obvious. However, it is only common sense and obvious to me.

The list isn't exhaustive, but just examples of how my slave should expect to live in my female led relationship. It's not fantasy. It is fact of life. 

Perhaps I should write a book - The Rule of Mistress KeyHolder..

Money
All money earned by slave goes into MKH's account. There is no 'allowance'. Why would a slave want an allowance? What does he need money for? Mistress buys his clothes, food, and covers household bills. There is nothing more he needs. 

Food
It eats a vegetarian diet in line with Mistress's liking, and cleans up immediately after eating. It has no choice over what food is bought and only eats what is available in the house.

Work
It is allowed out of the house to work, and returns home straight from work.

Communications
It is allowed to speak to others in the course of the day for work purposes. It is not allowed to speak to other females for any other reason than is functional. It communicates on a very regular basis with MKH, telling her his whereabouts, thoughts, everything.

Devices/Computers
Mistress has free and accessible use of all devices and slave offers devices at Mistress's whim for inspection.

Privacy
It has none.

Free Time
Free time is spent in the service of Mistress. It is only allowed to do things for it's own personal interest with permission. Permission is not to be expected. It's every moment is to be spent with Mistress. It should want this, if not, it is not a sufficiently devoted slave. Nothing comes before or above Mistress, except children. I always allow children to come before myself.

Pornography
Is not allowed, only unless forced or instructed by MKH.

Body
It's body is kept hairless and shaven at all times. It's body is at the disposal of MKH for piercing, tattooing and any other function MKH sees fit.

General
It lives for Mistress. It says good morning and good night to Mistress as it's first and last waking thought each day, to show it's devotion.
It wouldn't seek to do anything to harm, upset, or displease her in any way whatsoever, and if it inadvertently did, it would do everything in it's power to put right the wrong. 

MKH is always right. What she says is her law.

- - - - - - - - - - - 

Sadly, I have none of this now in my relationship. It is chastity based still, and boy is in continual chastity for me. He still calls me Mistress, but there is nothing left of the control, D/s or any other element of female supremacy that I so desire.
Chastity is all I have left, so I have reverted to the comfort of dreaming of what should be. 
In my head, it is all still there. 
In my head I am Goddess, Queen, above all men. 

I remain, Mistress KeyHolder.

So Difficult It Hurts..

Difficult.. I truly am a difficult woman. 

I'm not especially proud of it, but I am very aware of it. It's who I am and what makes me different to everyone else, and although I find it difficult myself some of the time, I really wouldn't change it.

Difficult - in what way?

I am demanding. I mean..DEMANDING! If you are my boy, you need to be there, obsessing about me every minute, every second, every day. And if it wanes over time, I am not understanding. As I see it, my standards have not been met and you are failing me. You are not quite good enough, not quite attentive enough, not quite what I want. Texting is a contact I expect with unending devotion. 1 year on, 5 years on, I expect exactly the same, in fact, I expect it intensified, and if it is not, I am disappointed.

Who could maintain such an exhaustive schedule?

Openness. I expect it as af you had been cut with a blade down the front of your torso and opened apart. Fully and completely exposed so there is nothing, not even your blood and guts to hide from me. And you even make that incision. You are so desperate to show yourself to me, you tear yourself apart and say, "Gorge your beautiful eyes upon my entire being Mistress KeyHolder. Feast yourself on my soul and I will remain as open to you in a year as I present to you today."

Who would cut themselves to the core for me?

Service. Service is a duty which I expect to be continually offered to me until it almost becomes a nuisance. Service in the form of doing everything possible, going out of your way, exerting yourself when you really don't want to, just to please me. Being hungry for it and continually seeking ways to better serve my needs, make another moment in my life happier. 

Who would offer such slavery?

There isn't such a man.

But, part of me knows, if there is me who desires such, there is the opposing half who desires to give it.

I know there is such a man and I know I need him.

Finding me..

I was thinking today, that I have lost Mistress Keyholder a bit. I have definitely not stopped being her - it is who I am, how I was made, and can't be diminished or taken away, even if I wished to. But circumstances, daily life and pressures of living have distracted me from my obsession and have taken me somewhere where I don't really care to be.

So, I decided to focus a little more time on me. On re-establishing Mistress Keyholder in my mind and on my blog - some investment in myself.

I began with a search on the internet - "Chastity for men". Chastity. A word I typed into search engines in the earlier days of the internet, over and over and over, reading every single scrap of information I could find, and in those days there was very little, mainly on Catholic or other religious reasons for chastity.

The first link I clicked on was this; (A gay man's experience of 3 days being locked, but interesting nonetheless).

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/brian-moylan/three-days-of-torture_b_2295045.html

The second link I clicked on; (Oh my.. just looking at all these devices.. mmmmmmmmmmm - big time!)

http://www.chastitytrophy.com/en/index.asp

and finally;

http://behindbarz.co.uk.

It was like RED HOT porn to me. Reading about and looking at chastity does something to me that sex simply does not. It doesn't even come close. These few minutes of time taken out for my self indulgence reminded me of my utter obsession with chastity; that this is not something I contrive - it is the core of who I am; of how incredibly sexy chastity control is and how it physically drives my passion.

Welcome back Mistress Keyholder.

New photos of Mistress KeyHolder

My boy had a lovely idea and he has been working and compiling for me.

This is the product of his labours... 

all for me..

http://mistresskeyholder.blogspot.co.uk/p/mistress-keyholder-photos.html

-

Yesterday my very best friend and soul mate passed away -

Unexpectedly, in her sleep.

I am grieving.

Need..

Need.

 
It's a word that is automatically associated with chastity - his need to orgasm, his need for his Mistress, being needy in general because he is so denied, it's breeds need...

It is less, if at all, linked with Mistress. However, I have to tell you, I NEED!

I need my boy like you wouldn't believe. I truly need him.

It's not a dominant thing to say. As Mistress, I am not meant to care or get emotionally involved. But I have never claimed to be heartless. I have always owned up to the fact that I am a caring Mistress.

So, does it weaken me to have such a dependency on my boy? Perhaps in some way, that point could have credibility. But in my opinion, it just serves to prove a fact - that chastity is like air to me. I NEED it. My boy facilitates my breathing. Without him I would suffocate. He enables me to be. And with such a dependency on him, with such closeness, it only means that in return he is evermore closer to me. He is bound to me by his need and mine. We need each other and that need fuels the others'.

He can't escape me because I need him, and because he knows he can't escape - he is destined to a life of denial to please and keep me satisfied, that in turn binds him closer to me. He needs that level of control and because I give it to him, he needs me more... and as he needs me more, his need fuels my love for him.

That in part explains why he was the one who got me. Out the hundreds of men who in the years I have been searching have approached me.. he was the one who won because of his level of devotion. That is what won me. He is devoted to me completely. I could do anything with him. I know I could.
Nobody has offered me the devotion he does, and so he won.

He won MKH.

And there is no escaping me now.

He has a keeper and I have my need fulfilled.

Nothing that I can see will ever break that.

The Smell of Mistress

Usually it's a knicker thing. Most men, if invited to bury their noses into an item of a woman's clothing would chose knickers. Indeed, my boy is no different. Given half the chance he would have them over his nose in an instant, however, it was not my knickers that he focussed on...

He broached the subject tentatively, initially, mentioning my boots, and my feet, kissing my feet, and developing the conversation to test my reaction. I have told him never to fear discussing anything with me. Never to fear ridicule or misunderstanding... and as time has gone on, he has learnt to trust what I say and to venture more and more of his fetish desires to me, always, so far receiving a positive response from me.

And so he began to ask for my socks. I liked his asking. I liked it so much that I didn't want it to stop, and so I told him that he would not be getting them for a while yet, as I liked his asking too much, and to give them would end it. And so this led to more persistent asking, the offer of paying for them, begging for them.

Those of you who know me, know that I don't do anything by halves. If I am going to do something, I do it well. And the giving of my socks was no different. I was not going to simply wear them and hand them over, smelling freshly of wash powder and newness. That was not the point.

So I after my jog, I kept my socks on. For the rest of the evening. And the next day, and the next. 3 days worth of me sweated and seeped into the very fabric of my socks. Saturated with my smell for him...

And when I next saw him, I placed them in his hands. One in his left hand, one in his right. 
He was layed naked on the bed. Not even his chastity device on. His cock was rock hard. I allowed him to draw his hands up to his face and he placed the socks over his nose as he inhaled deeply... and as he did I began to wank his cock to his breathing in of my smell. His eyes closed and he focussed entirely on his olfactory sense. He was clearly deeply pleasured by it, and that in turn deeply pleasured me - it was the most arousing, erotic thing, watching him getting off on the smell of my socks..
And without him having any say in the matter, he was in turn being sexually aroused, by my hands,  as he breathed... Until, the pleasure overwhelmed him, and he had to warn me, "please be careful, Mistress," for his arousal was such that he was close to orgasm.

As I stopped wanking him, I placed his hands back by his side, until he was ready to start again. And so it continued in this manner. With his sexual arousal being timed to his breathing in my smell. As the socks were drawn away from his face, his sexual stimulation stopped also, and vice versa, and as he breathed in, his cock was rewarded - trained into associating the smell of me with sexual reward.

Cock already knows that his arousal depends entirely on me.. but this is taking it one step further. Teaching him to depend on me.. that all that he has comes from me..

When we left his house, cock locked safely away, denied of course, I showed him that my socks had been placed under his pillow... so that when I wasn't there, he could place them over his face and at some level, I would be with my boy...

and cock could quietly pine for me.

What makes you orgasm?....

I have always known that chastity arouses me. I find the whole concept of the control of male sexual activity arousing, the visual image of locked cock, anything at all to do with male chastity does it for me...but until today I was unaware to the extent it turns me on sexually.

It was really, really odd what happened.

I was with my boy, layed on the bed...he was beside me with his hands secured behind his back while I used a dildo on myself and masturbated in front of him. His chastity device had been removed and he was knelt beside me, by the bed, with his hard, desperate cock propped next to me on the side of the bed.

I played with the end of his cock, and as I neared orgasm I stopped touching myself but continued touching him.. this desperate, desperate cock in my fingertips - and I loved it.. but as I continued teasing him, it was as if it was having a direct physical effect on myself, as if I was touching me, not him, and the intensity continued to grow in me.. I know that if I hadn't stopped I would have orgasmed over teasing him...

Bizarre, but true!

Just a Reminder..

I woke up this morning with the thought of something my boy had said yesterday...

It was a text message -
"I want to rip this damn cage off and wank myself stupid."

He is getting so frustrated now, so desperate and so uncontrollably horny he doesn't know what to do with himself.

But the image of a man with his cock in his hand wanking is just so awful. It really is horrible. I truly do hate it. Not just for the benefit of the readers here, it is a serious, genuine dislike.

The image makes me want to take hold of his hands and secure them behind his back, locked away, and leave his hardon there throbbing at me. And just stand and look at it. If his hands were free, he would undoubtedly be wanking, and chances are, if he was wanking he would orgasm. How selfish is that? And not only that, but it is depleting. It creates a disgusting, dirty mess and leaves behind a depleted man. Low, down, flaccid, disinterested, unenergised man. Compare that to a man with a full, raging hardon, energetic, aroused, desperate and willing..

Which one is more attractive? It's obvious.

My logic speaks for itself. So, your hands can be unlocked, but your cock will be locked away because you just can't be trusted to control yourself. It is for the best.

Men's cocks should be locked up. It is just a fact.

If only I ruled the world...

Mistress KeyHolder is... by her boy

Who is Mistress Keyholder?

Mistress Keyholder has graciously given me permission to write on her blog.  I am her new boy.

I don't take this honour lightly as I know how important this blog is to her.  It is just as important to me.  It is the vehicle by which I first knew her, my insight into her thoughts and feelings.  

I see it as a great privilege.   I am reassured by the fact that she will vet any entries before they go on so I can't mess it up or embarrass her.

You may want to know about me, Mistress Keyholder's boy.  But first I imagine that most people reading this will want to know really...

Who is Mistress Keyholder?

Is she really as she portrays herself here?  Is she real?  What is she truly like? 

In reality she sounds too good to be true doesn't she.

But firstly let me assure you.  She IS true.  There is no-one truer than Mistress Keyholder.

She displays a level of integrity you will never find matched.  She does not lie.  No matter how much the truth may hurt.  If she says something, it is true.  She has never ever let me down in this respect.  

There is only one thing she has ever told me that was not true...

Before we first met she warned me, 'I'm just ordinary. Nothing special. Don't be disappointed.'

She wasn't lying.  That was the truth as she saw it.  But certainly not as I did.

Fairly tall for a lady, slim, with long dark hair, she has a quiet and unassuming manner that might slip by, not unnoticed, but without fanfare.   Look properly though, notice her as she passes you, take a moment to study.

You will see, not ordinary, but beautiful.  Absolutely beautiful.  

Of course I would say that, I can almost hear you cry.  It's my job to.  

But I would say it regardless.  It is merely a statement of fact.

Mistress Keyholder is beautiful.

Such delicate features, dainty.  Soft, soft skin.  A perfect figure, feminine curves contrasting her lithe features.  Lips that were just made for kissing.  Her brown eyes, deep wells which will devour you should you dare to fall in.

Take away any thoughts of chastity or dominance and look at Mistress Keyholder.  On looks alone you will see a beautiful woman and you will desire her.

Of course, there is more, much more.

Her interest in chastity cannot be doubted for an instant.  You have read it on her blog. You have felt it in her words.  

In real life, I notice the flush of her cheeks when she sees that steel cage locking my cock.  Hear her breathing quicken as she strokes the encasing metal.  Her excitement is the most frightening thing.  Her excitement is the guarantee of continued and enforced chastity.

When she whispers in my ear, 'There is no orgasm for you today'... I am overwhelmed by that hopelessness... that knowledge of my own suffering directly causing her pleasure.

Mistress Keyholder does not shout.  She does not raise her voice.  She is calm, measured and quiet.  However there is never any doubt about who is in control. 

There is no doubt that I am being used as a vessel to fulfil her needs.  Emotions toyed with, cock made to suffer, all for her pleasure.  

She said to me recently, 'I am very calculating. I do nothing on a whim'.

This is so very true.

But she is not cruel.  She is kind.  She is merciless yes, but this (she has taught me) is a kindness.  

How many women can offer such a kindness as long term, enforced chastity, with no account taken of any plea for escape?

How many women have that strength, that control?

How many women truly enjoy the suffering as she does?

Just one.

Mistress Keyholder.

She makes me suffer, but in doing so she shows her care.  Mistress Keyholder is tender, she is sensual. Her touch is relentless, teasing and frustration that will drive you quietly insane.  Her kiss is something you would never forget if you lived to be a thousand years old.  It is something you would always crave, as I do.

Who is Mistress Keyholder?

Quite simply, she is a Goddess.

All these things are true about her, difficult to believe she could step right out of my dreams and into real life, but nevertheless true.  I love her and I want to shout it from the rooftops.  I AM the luckiest boy in the world.

Meeting..

I decided I had to see him...

The man who had written to me, and locked himself for me, and was writing a report every day for me, I had to see him.

On paper, in writing, in our chats and discussions he seemed so very right for me. But I didn't want to accept anyone who was less than exactly right.

The thing for me, my sticking point on so many occasions, was that my chastity slave, if ever I had one, had to look right, physically for me, and I am so damn awkward. I know I am. It's a fault, but if he wasn't physically compatible, I knew the dynamic wouldn't be there and it just wouldn't work.

I had seen photos of him. He was really on the borderline for me. I just couldn't tell from a photo, and before we got anymore involved, I wanted to know for sure how I felt about him.

So we arranged a day to meet.

I really wasn't nervous at all. I had, perhaps without realising it, convinced myself that he wouldn't be right. I was ready for the feeling of yet another disappointment. I knew that after all these years of searching it wasn't likely to happen.

I also knew that I would know with my first glance of him. It would be a very immediate yes or no.

I waited in the car park, and as his car pulled up alongside mine, I looked sideways.

He smiled.

I have odd taste in men.. I go for the type that are not typically attractive..and this man was just a normal man.

But as he smiled, and as I looked, I knew that I was looking at a man who I could take on as my chastity sub.

What had previously been borderline, was now yes.

As we walked and sat in a cafe, and talked, I noticed little things about him that were important to me; he dressed smartly, he was clean, had neatly trimmed nails, his shoes were smart and polished. He had taken care to present himself as best he could for me. And, throughout our time together, his focus was entirely on me; he fetched me tea, and attended to me, opening doors, helping me with my coat, and when attractive women in the street walked past us, his attention didn't falter for a second (I watched discretely..)

I knew that when we got back to the car, he would ask me to take his keys, and I knew I would take them. He had even taken exceptional care to present the keys to me perfectly..

They came in a box which had had purchased specially, along with the pliers to his PA ring, and with a letter begging me to allow him to commit to me. I asked him if he still meant those words, after having met me. 

He said yes. 

So I placed the red box in my handbag, and our chastity led relationship began...

I am, now for the first time ever, Mistress Keyholder - Holder of chastity keys.

Hope

Life is a funny old thing. It never ceases to amaze me..

I had wanted a child for 17 years. I had tried, and tried. Gone to every expert I could find, explored every possibility, and refused to give in to the hopeless condition of unexplained infertilitly...when both are quite fertile, but for some unknown reason, a child is never conceived...17 years..

Eventually, weariness combined with despair led my mind, my heart and my soul to give up hope. I sold all the things I had saved either from my own childhood, or had purchased in hope... and gave up.
I apologised in my mind to the baby I didn't have... for not being able to reach her... and I grieved. Giving up hope began a process of grief - I felt I was a mother to a child I did not know and couldn't find....

And I began to be ill. As well as being sad and grieving I felt ill.. physically sick and unwell. It got to the point that I knew something was wrong with me.. and I needed to see a doctor.

I had a feeling that if I said I was feeling physically sick each day, he may suggest I was pregnant. Obviously I wasn't, so I did a test on Sunday night, planning to take the results to the doctor with me the next day.

I put the tester stick on the windowsill and didn't even wait the minute for the results.. I knew them. I just left it there ready for the doctor the next morning.

Can you just imagine how I felt when I went back to the bathroom later that evening and saw the pregnancy test and it said positive?

8 years on and my elation has never worn off.

So what relevance does this story have to my chastity blog?

You will remember that in November last year I wrote that I had given up my search. I was weary and felt that the heartache of continual searching was having a negative effect on me rather than offering any glimmer of hope.

In my mind and my heart and my soul, I gave up.

Since then I have had a few very genuine, heartfelt emails. One in particular caught my attention. The way he talked of his need for chastity, his struggle with it, the way it had effected his life struck such a chord with me, that by the time I had read to the end of his message, I was sat with my head in my hands and a tear in my eye, because I felt his pain. It was real and true and in direct contrast to mine.

More significantly, he lived not too far from me, and he already had a secure chastity device, and he offered to lock himself in it for a month to prove himself to me....and provide me with a daily report.

So, we continued talking, and learning about each other.. and he remained locked up...

At the exact point when I gave up hope....

I am reminded..

That life is a funny old thing.

Still here

I just thought I would write a post to let you know that I am still here, still with the same desires and urges that have been with me all my adult life...

But I have made some changes.

I am no longer frequenting certain fetish websites - as I  detailed in my last post - I am no longer searching for a chastity submissive.

This is not because my search is over, it is because I was weary of searching. And I must say I feel a lot better for it, and, surprisingly, perhaps have renewed hope.
Through fetish websites, I received many hundreds of messages. Most of course were from time wasters, usually with little if any specific interest in chastity, rather more on general submission.
I now get only minimal communications through the contact address here on this blog, but these are of a much more chastity focussed nature.

So, who knows what 2013 may bring...


I am, in response to requests, trying to find a way to create and share a wish list which actually works.
Hopefully I will have it fathomed in time for my birthday! =]
If anyone can help with this, let me know..

Reflections on the Search..........

This week I watched a home video of myself with my daughter when she was young. I hardly recognised myself. I was so happy. I had wanted a child for so many years, that the joy of her presence was obvious. Motherhood completed a huge part of my life and still does.

It was as I got older that I realised I just had to try to complete the other yearning that I had in life - to find a man to share a chastity/orgasm controlled relationship with.

Over the years of my active searching, I have spoken to many hundreds of men and have met with a very few (4). I have had the pleasure of talking to and finding friends in a few very genuine chastity submissives. I have also wasted time and emotions talking to some of the worst examples of human beings I have ever come across, the absolute dreggs. And there have been the endless chastity wannabes and fantasists inbetween...

This year I fell in love. I really did lose my heart to a man. Not something I make a habit of. I have perhaps only done it once before in my life. The chemistry I felt with him was overwhelming. The emotional scars I carry from the ending of this relationship will be with me for a long time.

In summary, I have wasted so much time trying to fulfil my dream, and I have nothing at all to show for it. Nothing.

I have, no matter what disappointments I have endured, always maintained that somewhere in the world there is the man I dream of, and I have been committed to my search for him.

For now, I feel weary, and just can't search anymore. I have nothing left.

For now, I am going to revert back to the woman who cherished every second with her daughter and had a dream.... chasing the dream has brought me only sadness.

My chastity passion will never leave me. It is my nature. It is who I am.

But for now, the dream will return to being my fantasy. I will fantasise, and wonder, and make up stories in my mind, and imagine devices under trousers of men I pass in the street, and I will hope....

I am going to hope that if that man does exist in the world, that he finds me,

because I am no longer searching for him.

I don't know why....

I don't know why it excites me so much to see a cock bent backwards on itself, tied with a shoelace, strapped up and unable to grow...

I don't know why I love tying a man's hands behind his back and directing his eyes downwards to look at what he can't touch...

I don't know why I love hearing the slap of my leather belt as it hits buttock cheeks, and a stiffled murmer as it smarts...

I don't know why I love seeing a plastic bag sucked over a face, holding it tight around his neck, pressing it tight over his nose and mouth, and edging him...
 
I don't know why I am more aroused by the sight of a chastised cock than an erect one...

I don't know why I love to hear crying, just because he can't orgasm, and continue to say no...

All I know...

is that I do.

Chastity Seeker...!?

Regular readers of this blog will know that recently I began documenting a rekindled chastity led relationship with a man I thought I knew well.

I have since deleted those posts and I have been asked why.

He removed himself from his device, and from me, sadly. But the relationship was doomed anyway.

I dislike poetry, but these words came to me...

This is what happened to the man...

ChastitySeeker -

Chastity seeker, seeker one-nine,
said he was ready - that was his line,
said he was needy, this was the time!
Chastity seeker, seeker one-nine.

With his cock locked away
our relationship bloomed.
It was love at first sight, 
or so I assumed,
but chastity seeker, seeker one-nine
was playing with more than one Domme at a time.

Things started to register,
I began to take note
of his lack of commitment
and will to devote.

And as time elapsed
it began to come clear, 
with patience and time
evidence would appear.

Chastity seeker, seeker one-nine
strung me along with lies time after time,
until it arrived,
evidence - all I needed,
hung, drawn and quartered,
I had succeeded.

He's lost both his Dommes now,
his world is in tatters,
spiralling downwards - 
lost all that matters...

His one single chance with Mistress KeyHolder
screwed up in a ball and chucked over his shoulder. 

I am ready to start now with a new chastity boy,
to love and to cherish,
deny....
and enjoy.