Twink

He messaged me in October last year asking for me to consider him. He described himself briefly and he sounded ok. Ok so far. Then he tells me he's away abroad travelling and won't be back for months.

Yet another time waster, I think. I tell him to message me on his return to the UK and promptly forget about him and never expect to hear from him again.

Jan 2nd 2025.

He messages again and tells me he's back and would like to take me out for a coffee. He lives very close to me, we kind of got along over a few texts, so I agree, still not expecting anything other than a message prior to meeting saying he can't make it.

He's quite a lot younger than me, and it's always just a fantasy thing. I have literally had over a thousand young men ask me out only to chicken out last minute.

I was quite surprised when the day arrived, he didn't cancel, and a very young looking man (even for his age) appeared as arranged. 

I have been on dates, quite a lot over the past three years, and I always go home and think, it wasn't quite right, and it ends. But this time, I didn't go home disappointed. I actually liked him, and it appeared to be a mutual feeling.

We've met a few times since, and while we get along, and there is definitely a spark, there are a lot of con's and I do have concerns.

• He is terrible at communication and I depend on the closeness it brings
• He appears completely disinterested at times, mostly due to the lack of communication
• He has zero motivation
• He is disorganised (as am I and I need organisation in my life)
• He doesn't express his feelings

But he has pro's.

• I can sense his submissive nature
• He's stuck with me for quite a while
• We have similar kink interests
• I feel at ease with him

He is going to be very hard work and it may be a complete failure, but for now, I've decided to give it a go, and as such, I am focussed on him alone. It would be unfair for me to say any other. If I'm giving him a go, I've got to be committed and give it my full attention. He is going to need it!

If it fails, it shares with my devoted readers that the fetish life I am predestined to be involved in is challenging and comes with ups, downs and complete collapses. It's just the reality of life, but I'll share the experience, and we'll see where it goes.

I have named him. 

Twink. 

He calls me Miss. 

This will be the story of Miss and Twink.

It may be a short story. It may be long. Let's hope it's the latter.

So I begin 2025 with a tiny fraction of hope for happiness to be in my life again. To have my other half completed. I have survived the past three years alone, but it has been just that. Surviving. I have done some amazing things that have pushed my boundaries and I've achieved things I never thought I would, but something is just missing.

Let's see if Twink is my missing jigsaw piece.

As always, I am, Mistress Keyholder. Chastity is my obsession.

Control - It Controls Me

The look of a man completely covered in rubber, head to toe. Black, latex, rubber gimp, with beautiful shiny custom jewellery encasing him in chastity from which he cannot escape. Metal gag pinning open his mouth uncomfortably, forcing his lips and tongue to contort or hang, dribble and strain, as he leans on me, blindly dependent.

Noise cancelling headphones play a droning hypnotic sound directly into his hears. He has no choice other than to hear. It disorientates him. 

His arms and legs secured to points in the wall, tightly, securely. There is no allowance for wriggle, or twist or turn. Straps secure him completely to the ground.

He feels my hands on his face, over the gag, over his latex covered eyes, across the breathing holes covering his nostrils and he feels my lips kiss him, as I stroke his balls. The cage jumps. I caress them, tauntingly, as I allow saliva from my mouth to  land in his mouth. He knows the protocol and attempts to thanks me, mouth still stretch wide...

I crave this control. I have a need which lives inside of me to own a man in this way, to love him in this way and to be needed by him in this way.

My need to control control me. I can't live any other life. 

I seek the man who wants to dissolve under me, who will submit to whatever I do to him, only begging for me to use him more. I seek the man who so falls into my web that he feels he can no longer live or breathe without me.

I know he exists. He has to exist.

I am 53. I have waited almost 3 years for him and I will continue to wait and call out to him to find me.

I just can't exist in any other relationship. It was be a complete waste of my extreme desires to deny them just because they are hard to fulfil.

Dear future beloved boy. Find me. 

I remain, Mistress Keyholder.

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.

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.

A New Approach

The start of 2018 saw my relationship with my boy hit the lowest low. It culminated in my boy taking back his keys.

Despite both of us doing our best to try and save our relationship, we were doing things which weren't working. We were both so angry and resentful of each other, we couldn't find a way forward. Our lives had become miserable, with continual arguments, conflict and hate. I was incredibly unhappy.

However, despite the unhappiness I felt within our relationship, sat with the keys, I felt even worse. I knew that without my boy, I would be more miserable. I also knew that there had been a time when we had been happy, in the beginning.

After 3 hours with the keys, it was my bedtime. If I went through the night without the keys, I would never take them back, so I asked boy to bring them back for me. He did. He would not have brought them back without my asking. We would have ended that night.

I knew I wanted to keep my boy, and so I began to ponder a different approach to making us better.

We made written commitments to each other on the fundamental issues which upset each of us the most, and we started counting; 1 day - without conflict, to build up something positive. One day really was an achievement!

I had always thought that talking things through was the way to resolve issues, that communication was the answer, but for us, this very rarely worked. I knew that we were treating each other nastily, saying and doing things we never would have done when we were new. I talked to boy about this and made;

Mantra 1 - treat us as if we were new. 
We both practice this daily.

I have to take responsibility for making our relationship last, and to do this, I have to make some changes. That doesn't mean I have been wrong.

I have to accept, my boy does not have a submissive personality. We both often believe we are right in certain situations and we will argue our corner to the death of our relationship. So now, one of my techniques is just not to respond. I find it incredibly hard. But I have in my mind, argue to the death, or just leave it, and that makes it easier. It makes me sound like I am having to be submissive, and in some cases it does feel that way. I should always be right, my boy should accept that I am always right, and he should be the one who backs down. But right now, I am taking responsibility for saving us, and I am taking the lead. 

Mantra 2 - I am above you in every way.

I am teaching boy this new mantra. It is going to be a long, slow process, but I am going to aim to work on infiltrating him with this thought and belief. When I am unresponsive when we could potentially conflict, I know, I am above him as I can see the longer term picture, and this is the reason for my silence.

Mantra 3 - Help me be a better boy, Mistress.

Our relationship is not one which is going to happen naturally, where we are just happy and content. I have to accept that I will always have to work and put effort in to making us be at peace, to maintaining my dominance and his submission. 

This isn't what I expected for us, 5 years down the line, but I have cocklet, locked, and I have been able to be Mistress KeyHolder. 

I won't let go of this easily. We are on day 20 of a new approach. I hope it lasts a lifetime.

Reminders of his 's' position, in the D/s of us

My boy is an assertive, self-assured man in his daily life and holds a professional   role in his work. He is used to challenging, holding others to account, and taking the lead. This is his natural way, his personality fits well with this. 

He is also, now we are established as a couple, like this with me. I of course, challenge back, and we have clashes and disputes far too often. 

He needs taking down, not just a step, but an entire staircase.

I have devised some ways to remind him of his lowly position beneath me.

He has only had contact with my wearing his black, rubber, eyeless hood. The purpose of this is to remind him he is not worthy of viewing my beauty.

I have taken control of all his passwords again, after relinquishing them - the purpose of this is to show that all his actions are accountable to me.

Cocklet is not allowed entry into Mistress - this place is sacred for the next year, as a minimum standard - the purpose of this is to remind him he is less, and denied.

I am going to come up with 30 slave mantras. He is to recite each one on a daily basis, when he has a moment, through his day, and on waking and going to sleep he will text his daily mantra to me. The purpose of this is to remind him and keep him conscious of his slave position, and his place in our relationship.

I am D... he is s

This is our law.

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.

Boy is Labelled for Life

I think it's about time I did an update here.

Most importantly, boy and I are still together. As my blog has documented, we have had, but also survived, some difficult times.

We still have conflict, differences, disagreements and issues, but on the whole we are strong and happy and we are getting better at resolving our problems.

What I am about to tell you, happened 15 months ago, but I didn't feel suitably placed to share the news then.

Now I do.

On 20th May, 2016,10am, I initiated my boy into permanently labelled status. He had always asked and wanted to be tattooed by me, but I waited until I felt we were strong enough for such a commitment to be made. 

It was perhaps a year or more later than boy would have liked, and ironically, we had our most severe fall out the month after this branding.

There are times he has wished it away. 

He has never really been proud of it to me, or glad of it. But I am incredibly proud of it, and pleased with it. It perhaps now means more to me than him. He feels trapped and hindered by it when we argue and our relationship is under threat.

But I love it.

I know you would like to see, a beautifully chastised, tattooed boy.

He didn't know what was going to be tattooed on him when I took him there. All he knew was where he was going. He didn't know my initials would be there. 

But you have to admit, it is a thing of beauty isn't it?

D/s

As I mentioned in my last post, I am trying to spend most of my time with my boy in the formal setting of the D/s relationship. The purpose of this being to reset our positions and to minimise conflict, in the short term at least, until we build our bond again.

So, this evening, I text him and told him to be ready for me in ten minutes time, naked except for his hood and collar.

When I climb the stairs and open the door to his room, it takes my breath away every time to see my gimp knelt there waiting dutifully for me.

Today I allowed him to massage my feet with scented oil. I luxuriated in his firm touch and felt happy in my place as worshipped Goddess.

I did reward him. I massaged his swollen, deep red (almost purple) balls with the oil and penetrated him with my fingers. Cocklet isn't coming out for at least 21 days. He has to serve me with 21 days of good behaviour. We are not aiming for very good or excellent yet. I feel we are far from that.

But this is good. I have found a way at last to bring us back together and fix the rifts had had started developing between us.

Tomorrow, I may allow him to take me out of tea. He will need to be very careful of his actions and verbalisations to me. Of his eye contact and manner with other people we come into contact with. I expect him to be on his best behaviour if he is to dine with a Goddess.

Long Term D/s Relationship - Repairs/Maintainance.

I have just got back from a week away. It has been a very valuable time of contemplation for me. I realised that my relationship with my boy wasn't just going through difficult times, but that it was actually making me unhappy, most of the time. The reason for this was that Mistress Keyholder was lost - but being lost was quite a complex issue...

This was partly due to lack of time and other commitments coming in the way, but it was also due to another factor. Something else was at play that, while living it, I couldn't quite put my finger on how to resolve it. I knew there was a problem and tried my very best to address it, but none of my efforts were working.

I haven't felt up to sharing this with you, even though I know it is important to share the difficulties of a D/s lifestyle as well as sharing the good bits. It helps with understanding the full picture and the complexities of such a lifestyle. But when it wasn't working well and I really felt like I/us were failing, it was very hard to document it, especially as it was more than probable that such writings would have a negative impact on us.

Living, as we do, very closely and with children in our lives, it isn't easy to remain the D/s couple at all times. Also, after being together over 3 years now, the newness and honeymoon excitement have been and gone and we are left with a more mundane life of working and living with bits of kink thrown in when time allows. Saying this though, Mistress KeyHolder is in my blood. She expects high standards and is demanding and pedantic (my boy criticises me for being such, but doesn't realise that I don't take this as a criticism - I take this as a very true description of my personality that I don't wish to change, and quite the opposite, find it a good Mistress quality and is what makes me me).

So, with such high standards and pernicketyness still present, even when our D/s dynamic is repressed for some reason, I find fault very easily. If my boy isn't behaving as I expect, I become cross, disappointed and sometimes so unforgiving that I find myself distanced and unable to communicate. 

I have tried talking problems through with my boy, but he finds such criticism difficult to deal with and either blames me or gets angry. This anger in turn alienates me and we end up like any other bickering, vanilla couple. I really was quite unhappy.

I knew the answer was to be me. To be Queen and Goddess and to expect only the best. But my boy had also fallen from his place of submission and didn't want to give me this. I tried setting rules, making him read them regularly; removing myself from him - hoping he would pine for me; talking things through..ultimately, nothing worked and things got worse and worse.

While I was on holiday, I thought still harder on solutions. Finding someone to share my fetish with has not been easy and has taken years. I really don't want to throw away what I have found, even when it gets incredibly difficult and all hope seems lost, however, I DO have standards. My standards had become so disrespected that I felt abused; fragile in keeping things held together and in many ways, I felt I was the one being dominated. The relationship was not one I wanted to be in.

I have one last card left to play - one last idea to pull our relationship back to where it once was. A place where I felt like I was the luckiest, happiest woman in the whole world.

I am bringing back Mistress Keyholder and taking away the vanilla me, short term, but to put us back in a place where we are both happier.
He is seeing me only as Mistress. I am giving him only Mistress. He is presenting himself only as slave, as gimp, as my worshipper. He is no longer permitted to kiss my lips, to touch me without permission or to see me in vanilla    circumstances. I am also changing his chastity conditions. Instead of being completely denied, I am now giving him monthly milking/ruined orgasms in-between complete lock down. I touch him only with rubbered hands. 

I am hoping that this will take us back to a place where he sees me for who I am, and who he is, and that when this is achieved, I can get back all the respects and submissions I need, demand and deserve.

If I can't be worshipped, adored and submitted to completely and wholley then he does not deserve to be at the feet of a Goddess. 

Ups and Downs

It has been a long time since I have updated this blog. I have been uninspired.

My boy and I have had some difficult times interspersed with some great times, but the overriding feel has been one of struggle.

The problem isn't our chastity. That is what holds us together when we are on the verge of relationship breakdown. Our difficulties arise from our vanilla relationship. We are so quarrelsome. 
Also, the crossover between kink and normal lives is difficult and puts a strain us regularly. Because we spend so much vanilla time together; with our families, children, and just together as a couple, it is hard maintaining the Domme/sub dynamic. My boy may make a slip up which I find insulting or just inappropriate, and I react negatively to it. Not in a Mistressy kind of way always, but in an unforgiving, "you should know better, and I expect better", way. That just makes the vanilla him angry with me and we begin a downward spiral which is very hard to get out of - being angry, blaming, sulking and getting more angry. Even with two committed, likeminded people, we have found keeping our relationship going almost impossible at times.

Today though, we have made some progress. I had been dwelling on our relationship troubles in the night. I began with the thoughts that I could no longer continue with my boy and would return his keys, then imagining the grief I would suffer, to imagining longer term life without my boy, finding this too painful to bear - far more painful than the conflict we were going through, to working through thoughts of forgiveness and trying to see a way forward.

We have spent the day together today working through things. Not dwelling on past wrongdoings, and not blaming. We managed to reach an intimate place of domination and submission with my squatting slightly over his mouth and gifting him with Mistress drink. It took us back to the place where we need to be. The place we both give each other but which can be lost so easily in daily life.

We are now on our way up from a very low down.

I love my boy. No-one else could fulfil me in quite the same way that he does. Please hope for us that he never does anything to jeopardise his Mistress.

Letter to Mistress's Lover ... From my boy...

Dear Mistress's Lover,

Thank you for pleasing Mistress today.  Thank you for giving her an intenseness and a pleasure that I alone, could not.

As I sat banished to my study, hearing you both enter my house, climb my stairs and the creaking as you lay on my bed, I realised the reality of the situation.

My Mistress, my Queen, my lover, my partner, was in my bed with another man.

Another man I knew that she desired and lusted after.

Quietness.  Straining to hear through the silence rewarded me only with the noises of cars outside.  My tummy doing somersaults, wondering, imagining what you might be up to.

Pushed to one side.

Knowing however, that Mistress's plans involved a gentle introduction I envisaged you kissing her and maybe a little fondling through your clothes.  It hurt, but I could just about manage it.

Buzz... my phone.

A picture.

Mistress on her back. Naked.  A naked man on top of her.

Oh my God.

The blood rushed to my head, heart quite literally pounding in my chest.  Seeing the curves I so worship, pressing against another man's flesh.

Another... your fingers on her pussy.

And yet another... your fingers replaced by your mouth...

I sat immobilised. Unable to think. Unable to move. Shaking.  This was totally unexpected. This was like a punch to the stomach, a genuine physical sensation, incredibly hurtful, jealousy, submission and desperate, desperate need all moulding me into one big quivering mush.

I felt pathetic. I was allowing this. I knew that Mistress was sending me the photos to purposefully taunt me. Increase my humiliation and show me what she was giving to you, whilst denying me.  I knew that she was enjoying hurting me.  Her enjoyment... making it desirable for me.

Twenty minutes later, I was just getting over my stupor.  Breathing just about normal again, the fog clearing from my brain.  And then I heard it.  Mistress's groan coming through the walls.  A guttural moaning sound that I know so well.  A sound I adore and seek to achieve as often as possible.  The sound of her orgasm.  Another punch to the stomach. Deepening of humiliation and desperation.  I was quite literally climbing the walls.

I thought you would leave shortly after.  I heard sounds of movement and knew it was time to go. Then quietness again.  You must be talking.  

Eventually my shaking subsided, my equilibrium returning just a little.

The clock ticked.

An hour went by.

Then out of the blue, a loud, desperate cry. Her moan emitting such need and emotion.  Hitting me squarely between the eyes, gape mouthed I listened to the sound of another of Mistress's orgasms.  My God.  How it hurt.  And I was left in my box, denied.

Mistress was no longer mine.  But I was more than ever, hers.

                            -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later, after you had left, Mistress and I spoke.

It was very clear just how much she enjoyed you.  The intense sexual pleasure you gave her.  The way she desired you so strongly, could not stop talking about you.   The way she enjoyed the effect on me.  What it made her to me and what it made me to her.  Lessened. Not requiring me for her sexual satisfaction, but having her new lover instead.  

Thank you for the tenderness, care and sheer enjoyment you gave to Mistress.  Thank you for enabling her to deny me to an even greater level.  For enabling her to hurt, humiliate and frustrate in a manner that elevates her so highly, whilst making me so utterly just her adoring, needful and lowly slave.  

Thank you for enabling Mistress to cuckold me and for being so right for her.

I beg that you return and continue to please Mistress sexually.  I beg you to touch her, to kiss her, to lick her and make love to her.

I beg you to be her lover. 

I beg you to participate in enjoying the humiliation she causes me.

Mistress Keyholder's slave.

Cuckolding in it's very beginnings..

We had talked about cuckolding about a year ago. In fact, we had more than talked about it. We had made the decision to make our fantasy a reality and my boy began looking for suitable 'prospects' for me.
In summary, I didn't find anyone who I felt comfortable enough with to even meet, let alone anything else, and after trying to be undetered, we eventually decided to give in for the time being.

I said, someone suitable would come along at some point, and reminded my boy it had taken me 7 (maybe more) years of searching to find him.

During the summer holidays while my boy and I were separated by our individual holiday/family commitments, I browsed an old online fetish haunt of mine, to catch up with friends and keep my mind busy.

During one such visit, I had a new message from someone I hadn't spoken to before - nothing unusual there.. I get many such messages daily. It said only "Hello". Normally I would immediately discard such a poor effort, but the photograph that accompanied the message made me reply - "nice pic - shame about the message"

And so a communication began. 

I found myself getting to know a 24 year old young man. He was, for many reasons, out of the ordinary. The words I am about to use to describe him are not meant in any way as a put down. Rather, they are what drew  me to him, and those of you who know me will understand why.

"Shy; isolated; nervous...

intelligent; thoughtful; honest...

awkward; socially inept and uncomfortable..

virtually no experience with women..."

Eventually, this man developed confidence in me sufficient to arrange a meeting, firstly explaining to me that he had a stammer - which only made me find him more appealing.

The meeting, in a public place, last month, went well.

Tomorrow we are meeting again. In a more private place - my boy's house.

It has been a very intense time for all three of us.

My intention is to coax my new boy, and build his sexual confidence, widen his experience, and bring him to a place where he will eventually become my lover.

I will then introduce my boy to the equation and his development as a cuckold chastity slave will begin.

Infact, it has already begun - I see it when he sucks in his bottom lip when I talk to him of my new boy, I see it in the way he speaks to me and his intense devotion to me, in the reddening of his cheeks and the lowering of his eyes..

This is the boy who's penis is locked away, safely. This is the boy who is owned by Mistress Keyholder, and this is the boy who is only becoming more devoted to her relentless training of him.

Promotion for boy

You will know from my last post that my boy and I have our ups and downs, like any couple in any long term relationship - there are always little glitches.

The summer holidays prove to be a testing time for us as we have separate holidays and children mean that we spend 6 weeks with very minimal contact. Our communication is mainly by text and this often leads to misunderstandings and fallouts. This year was no different and we had some difficult moments.

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Our first meeting after the 6 weeks summer break was a mere 2 hours together, but we had privacy. My boy had been restrained in his device almost continually for those 6 weeks and I knew he was so looking forward to me going to meet him with the keys to give him some relief. He had been telling me how desperate he was, how he needed the cage off and to have some stimulation. He was so very desperate for some stimulation, and knowing it was coming, his texts showed me that he was very needy and excited for my visit with the keys.

I duly arrived with the keys. My boy's actions and facial expressions told me he was feeling very submissive and eager for his release. As we stood, kissing against the wall, I told him he was going to have a special treat today. 

(Cocklet in my mouth perhaps...lubed rubber hands sliding up and down cocklet's length perhaps...orgasm... ?) I could imagine him thinking these things....and he told me he wanted it to be a surprise. I took no notice of his request to maintain anticipation, and instead told him I would be removing the cage and allowing cocklet to become hard. 

A bit of an anti-climax for him, as he expected as much after so long imprisoned! I imangined he was thinking I was giving him just a taster of what was to come - the cage removed, and then...... fun for cocklet.

We went to the table which he had got out ready for me at my request. Rope and hitting implements were also laid out at my request.

After removing his device as promised, I instructed him to lay face down on the table, cocklet poking through the hole. I tied his hands behind his back, and then began to tell him of my new plans.

"I have decided I am going to start touching cocklet less from now on. Denying him orgasms doesn't seem to be having the desired affect any more" 

"Oh it IS Mistress, it really is."

"I have noticed a change in you since the cage has been on for longer over the holidays." (He had, towards the end of the holiday, been making noticeable efforts to please me and be good, knowing that our meeting was approaching and that his speculated stimulation was near, making sure he had earned his reward.)
"I like him so much more since I haven't been touching him."

"Oh no Mistress, not after all this time, please, he needs touching, please, no Mistress."

"Don't worry. It's ok. Shh... (his whimpering subdued only slightly), It's a promotion! It means you can be a better boy for me. It will give you much nicer feelings of frustration and submission. It will be lovely. It's a special thing. .. and ... do you know what...? You will actually thank me for doing this to you."

Cocklet throbbed and dripped through his hole in the table. He flicked and danced about  in sheer desperation for something, anything. Anything at all. 

It was a pure delight to watch and made me feel very loving towards my cocklet.

My boy, with his hands tied behind his back, cocklet out of reach but so incredibly desperate and sensitive and needy. Unable to reach beneath the table, only able to push against air. Into nothing. 

"I realise darling, that you need something. Some physical contact. But my hand will not be touching cocklet today. In fact, we will be reducing any touching at all that cocklet gets. But I will let him know that he has been out today. I will let him have some physical relief."

And so I proceeded with the implements left out for me. The slapper, the crop, the metal, beady cat-o'-ninetails. And I began first hurting his body. Then, I turned him over so cocklet was layed against his belly for me. And I let cocklet know he was out. I hurt him. Balls, cocklet - his length, head, topside, underside, left and right. I hurt him till I felt he was fully awakened, til every part of him had had some contact with my control.

Then I sat my boy up.

Cocklet rock hard, erect, desperate.

I layed on my front, my mouth close to cocklet, and I brought my boys hand round in front of him, almost close enough for him to touch.

And there, I layed, closed my eyes, and opened my mouth... (at last, a treat for cocklet?...) And I slid my wet lips down, down over his finger, which I held right up close next to cocklet. My boy watched intently, barely able to stifle the need for my lips on cocklet, but imagining.....if only. I tormented him in this way for quite some time...making him watch this torture.

Finally, untouched cocklet's time was up, and he went back into protection. 

Wasn't that a lovely treat my love? Just being hard now is going to be what you yearn for. Cocklet in my mouth, sexual relief, pushing into me, my hand wrapped around him... those things are gone now. Cocklet has been promoted to a new level of denial. 

He will now yearn only to be hard... if only he could be erect.

.....


"Thank-You, Mistress"

Difficult Times Lead To A New Focus.

Despite initial appearances of our relationship being perfect, we, like any other couple have our ups and downs. 

Just recently we have had a very serious down. It lead me to a point where I felt I could no longer continue with my boy, and for a short while I left him, with his keys returned.

However, despite our difficulties, I knew I needed him enough to try and mend what had been broken, and after experiencing anger and then grief, I then came to a place where I felt it was possible to rebuild. We have both worked very hard at that.

The problem involved a rule I had made that had been broken, a number of times and of course, covered up to hide it from me. The detail isn't relevant, but what was significant was that I realised my rules were not sacred. They could be broken without my knowing, many times over. 

Rules, were no longer the way to dominate and control my boy.

Initially I felt there was no hope for the future because I based my control on rule and trust. With that gone I had nothing left.

But then, gradually, a new way of controlling him came into my head, from out of nowhere. 

It was clear, that with trust there is always chance for infallibility. He came to me for my control, and I was failing to give it. He proved a rule could be broken easier than snapping a twig. It was not control. And if I provided twigs to be snapped... 

(The truth is, he like anyone suffers from human nature. It is why we have a harsh metal cage encasing his cocklet, because he needs it there. He cannot be trusted with his freedom.)

So I have had a bonfire and there will be no more twigs. I will instead make requests. They will be there for him to respect or not, out of his own choice. He will know my preference, and that is as far as I can go with that.

I started fantasising about financially controlling him. Making him pay me for things. He could not escape that, and I would make it so the things he was paying for, he was begging to pay me. Once the money has left him, he can't reclaim it. That control suddenly became very much more real than a rule. I could really make him suffer, make him poor, cripple him financially. But all by his own doing.. because he would have begged to have paid me. He would be responsible for his own demise.

In the process of him breaking twigs, I feel that I have lost my standing in many respects with him. That is how I feel. I feel I need to rebuild the pedestal on which I once stood. So I am going to limit the physical contact he is allowed with me. His lips may not touch any part of my body other than my hand of my foot without him asking consent. There will of course be a fee involved in his asking for permission.

Instead of kissing me, he will crave to kiss me, to earn the opportunity to pay for a kiss. 

I tell you all this, because life isn't perfect and I don't want to pretend it is for us. We have both suffered these past weeks. 

But we both believe we have something worth working at, and so this new chapter of control begins.

First Days Play with a New Toy.

It had been 6 months and 5 days. Denied and constantly caged, except for when I let him out, supervised. 

I had a new toy to introduce him to. I had bought it and saved it for a special occasion. Today was the special day. He knew nothing of it, except that he was going to be experiencing something new.

Although it fitted my mouth perfectly when I tested it for size, it was a struggle for him to get it in. We eventually had to compromise with it tilted slightly backwards to accommodate his small jaw stretch. I fastened it tightly behind his head and then proceeded to wrap his head with black cling wrap that I had salvaged from a recent parcel. I kept his mouth free, but it was very easy to apply a smaller piece of the black plastic just over his mouth, to assert control.

I loved how his mouth was held open, ready. An orifice for my amusement. I could put in there whatever I wished to. And, as I did so, I reminded him how it was his duty to serve me. To be obedient. He does forget sometimes, his place. He does, in the every day world forget, and asserts his opinion, his right, his feelings. I very rarely, if ever, say anything at the time. But I save the evidence, and recount the correct manner for a slave when he is appropriately beneath me, mentally.

Today, he was very beneath me. I made him so, and I loved making him so. The things that I dropped into the circular ring which force held his mouth open were bad. They lowered him, and made him something less. They made him my slave. My obedient worshipper, willing to take whatever I dropped into the disposal unit his mouth hole had become.

And then, when he thought I had made my final insult, I asked if he wanted the most disgusting thing ever. At first he couldn't think what could be more disgusting. But he was thinking with his head and not mine. For me, there was the most vile and disgusting thing imaginable yet to come. But it required him to produce it.

And so I placed a plastic bag over his desperate, dancing and straining cocklet. I instructed him to rub against the bed, and as he was ready to produce the most disgusting thing ever, he was to take the last morsel from my hand and devour it. For this, the ring was removed from his mouth.

He told me later that the contents of the bag has been relief to his mouth, after the horrendous things I had placed in there. 

I felt no regret, unease, guilt or lessening of my will for him to consume my offering, despite the way he struggled with it in his mouth. Despite the way he gagged on it. All that did was make me feel proud that my boy was doing this for me. He was taking all that I was giving. It was a very deep act of submission.

It became a very loving act. It became something that brought a closeness. And he, now, when I look at him, is lower. Lower than ever. But I treasure him far more as my slave for committing himself to my will. 

For accepting humiliation for my pleasure.

Increased Denial

He hasn't had a proper orgasm for over 7 months now, so it would seem his denial was pretty maxxed up, however, even with the extremity of long term denial it is easy, (if your heart isn't in it) to become disinterested in it and for the lock up to lose it's spark. 

Fortunately for my boy, I am VERY interested in it. So, rather than becoming routine and mundane, it has gained intensity and his denial had actually been increased.
I'm not talking about duration here, as the lock up has been long term anyway. His denial has been increased,ironically, by my enjoyment of it.

I used to let cocklet out and play with him, wank him, have sex with him and thoroughly make use of and enjoy him, without any orgasm happening of course. But this play in some way, even though not an orgasm, sated my boy's need to some extent.

Recently, I have discovered something else much more satisfying than enjoying him by physical contact. I am getting far more pleasure and fulfillment from not touching him. I have to say, it is simply the most divine thing imaginable!

I did this one week on our day spent together. I touched him everywhere except cocklet. His belly, balls, very base of cocklet. Nice soft touches, hard hurting touches, slapping, scratching pulling nipping touches, and then gentle strokes and kind touches. But nothing for cocklet. Not a thing.

He imagined I would eventually give in and stroke cocklet, as I usually do, just because I love him so much. But this particular day, I loved more the effects on my boy of not touching. His need and desperation were far more of a thrill and a pleasure to me, that in spite of wanting to touch cocklet, I resisted in favour of not doing.

I think my boy thought that the following week on our day together I would surely touch. But again, I followed the same procedure, allowing cocklet out of the cage to point and be denied only.

My boy has gone longer than a few weeks without being touched, but this teasing, the closeness of my fingers but still being denied, is far harder for him to bear than simply being locked away and forgotten about.

And by the time our third week and our third day spent together, I think he must have felt almost certain that this time cocklet would get touches.

But the truth is, I am so enjoying what it is doing to my boy, I can't ruin it, I just can't - I love his desperation too much. It is so impossibly hard for him. So difficult to bear. It makes him love me though and need me. He truly needs me. How can I take that away from him? I just can't.

We layed on the bed, with cocklet free but untouched, and watched some video clips..mainly breath play and bondagey things. It made me want the re-breather on him.

With one wrist handcuffed to the bed, and my weight laying on his other arm, the mask covering his nose and mouth, he began to breathe, and I closed the valve.

I held his head close to me, and spoke gently to him, and as I did, I began, with feahterlight fingers, to caress cocklet. . . 

We had the best, most intense, tender, loving experience of control and submission. It was very genuine and unhindered and also full on sexual.

I own my boy. 
We both know it,
and neither of us would have it any other way.

New name for cock..

Since my last post about the man I had noticed on my drive to work, my boy and I have been talking very much more seriously about the prospect of cuckolding. We have discussed it many times before but I had not felt ready to embark on it for real until our relationship was absolutely secure and established.

I did not want my boy feeling threatened by someone else in the sense that he risked losing me. I wanted him to understand that it would only serve to make his devotion and commitment to me even stronger.

My boy offered to search for an appropriate bull for me, and I accepted his offer, though was doubtful he'd find me anyone one who I deemed suitable.

I was pretty much right. The men who saw themselves as 'bull' were, in general, not the type of man that I wanted any association with. Just as when I was looking for my boy, I wanted someone quite unique.
As my boy sifted through the many applicants, we were of course sent photographs, displaying various shapes and sizes.......

Some were huge.

Looking at these, and then seeing my silver cage on poor boy made me see him differently. He was so very much smaller, babyish almost, and so I began referring to him as cocklet.

This is his new name.

cocklet.

Turning a Corner..

On my drive to work I passed a car. A white Merc. I was driving slowly round a corner and the car approached slowly too.

It was being driven by a man. He was maybe in his late 40's, tanned, immaculately groomed. He wore a crisp, white shirt which was brilliant against his tanned skin. He had grey flecks in his hair. Sophisticated. Intelligent. Well off. Successful.

I imagined somehow, that I got to meet this man. Allowing him to take me out. Getting to know him. He is who I would allow my boy to share me with. One day, my boy will have to share me.

Cock is spending increasing amounts of time locked away. He doesn't even get to come out and point very often now.

It may take years to find a suitable man, just as it took years to find my perfect slave. But I see this is the direction we are heading in.

Training Shed.

Although my boy came to me fully committed to and in need of chastity and servitude, he was coming to me from a very normal life. From the outside, we both hold regular jobs and would appear to anyone else to be quite normal folk.

With this in mind, the contrast of being thrown into enforced, longterm, unrelenting chastity has had it's little glitches. That is only to be expected. From one extreme to another. From overuse of his sexual freedom to having it completely taken away from him.

And I have high standards. I expect not just chastity, but a chastity slave. I expect him to serve and to be devoted to me.
There have been times when he has retaliated against this. When he has thought I have been wrong or unfair.

What he has yet to learn, that unfair or wrong, it doesn't matter. He does as I say. I expect nothing less. Often that is very unfair. 

He criticises me for never admitting fault, but if I did, if I believed there are times when I am not the strongest link in our chain, then I would not be me. I would not be who I am. I would not be able to dominate and rule him in the way I do if I was weak willed or didn't have absolute belief in myself.

So coming to me from his position of authority at work, of being a leader, a manager, someone in control, it has had it's challenges to truly submit to me.

But I help him by not shifting my stance when he fights against me. I help him by being strong and showing him this is the way it is going to be. He does sulk at times. But I just wait. I am very patient, and I know that eventually he will come round to admitting I am right, even when I am wrong in his eyes.

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While we were exploring his new garden the other week, I investigated a little shed. It was full of cobwebs and clutter and rubbish. But I thought how perfect it would be for my boy. A little house for him. A special place for when he forgets who is in charge. A training house. A cold, uncomfortable place where he could spend time on quiet reflection.

I gave him instruction to clean it out and told him my plan for the little house.

That afternoon he set to work and cleaned his place. He scrubbed the cold brick floor and swilled it out.

It's now very lovely. 

It will serve him well.