Mistress Keyholder's Boy - Introducing himself..

Hello dear reader. I am Mistress Keyholder's boy.

If you have followed Mistress Keyholder's blog you will probably have a picture of her ideal boy. You might picture me in my twenties or early thirties. Slim, long, dark hair, kind of goth looking. Perhaps with pale skin. Dressed all in black. Perhaps I have some piercings or tattoos that are prominent. Certainly there would be something different about me.

I think that fairly describes Mistress Keyholder's ideal boy (though of course she might correct me!).

But it does not describe me. Not in the slightest. I am far removed from her ideal vision of a man.

I am almost the same age as Mistress Keyholder.

Tall, medium build with short, tidy hair.

I have no tattoos (yet) and only one piercing, which was done specifically so that I could be securely locked in chastity.

I have a professional, conservative job and to the outside world that is exactly how I appear. Conservative. Ordinary.

At least... in terms of the way I look.

Also, I am not an experienced slave. Perhaps like many reading this blog, I have been involved with vanilla relationships, feeling I would always be unfulfilled and unable to express this side of me - which is sad because it really is a fundamental part of me.

So how do I come to be Mistress Keyholder's boy when I am so far from her ideal?

Chastity, or something akin to it, has been with me all my life. My first ever sexual fantasies as a boy involved me teasing myself in a frustrating way and imagining it was being done by a lady who owned me. I was a slave, being toyed with for her amusement. These were genuinely my first fantasies from the age of about 10. I thought initially that everyone had the same kind of thoughts. I really believed that all boys would want such a thing.

I learned about teasing and denial later in life and then eventually found about chastity devices. Domination is something I have always craved, sometimes sought out, though many times have tried to bury my craving from a belief I would never genuinely find it. Chastity and denial have always been the cornerstone of that craving.

My knowledge of Mistress Keyholder started with me being a fan of her blog.

I read it first some years ago. She was (IS) like an unattainable Goddess. Extreme in her views, frightening. Frightening even more by the amount I was attracted. However I did nothing more than read (and I admit, masturbate).

Perhaps like many people reading this now I was in exactly your position. Only able to fantasise about what I really wanted, think about what it would really be like to serve and worship such a Goddess. Be jealous of those people who could live such a life. Masturbate to the idea of not being able to masturbate. How silly that sounds when I write it! But I did. I masturbated a lot - too much.

I read her blog again more recently when I found myself newly single again.

The more I read, the more I realised she was my ideal.

I had to contact her. But when I did, I HAD to get it right. She was so important.

I realised that she would likely dismiss me instantly just because of the way I looked. However I planned to give my best effort because maybe, just maybe, she might just be interested. I actually thought about contacting her for quite some time before I did - for a month or two I planned and thought about how best to approach her. How I could gain her attention. How I could convince her that I was genuine.

I won't say exactly what I did in case she gets deluged with a load of emails as a result, but in the end I did write to her. I laid my heart on my sleeve in that first email. I didn't expect a reply - not straight away, maybe not ever. But amazingly, she wrote back to me the very next day. She sent the most lovely reply.

And so began a dialogue that ended up with me meeting her.

And then progressed to her taking my keys.

And then to making my chastity more secure.

And eventually.... to me falling in love with her.

Until now I am in a position where I am actually very securely locked away - I cannot remove the device without considerable effort, causing damage to it and probably to myself too.

I will say more about that in another post, but for now I hope that was at least a little interesting as an introduction - I would also like to write about how our relationship is developing, about some of the practical issues with chastity and the journey we have taken to find a secure and comfortable solution. I will save that for a later post, providing Mistress approves of course.

Thank you for reading.

Mistress Keyholder's adoring boy.

The Game

My boy has had just 2 orgasms this year. One after 35 days, the next after 18, the next is yet to happen.

He was close to getting it the other day.. I told him he could have one, or he could chose to play a game. He asked, "what if I chose to have it now?" I said, "you wont get to play my game".

And so, partly because he really didn't want to spoil his denial (I think) and partly to please me, he said he'd play my game, and asked what it was. When his cock was safely locked away again I told him a little bit about the game. I told him, he would have to pay for his next orgasm, but it wasn't just a case of paying. I would make it into a challenge. If he failed, he'd have to wait until I next chose to offer him a chance to try and pay me.

This is the story, in his words...

The Game - A True Story
By My boy

Day forty nine.

Exactly seven weeks of chastity.  

Seven weeks of lockdown.  

The only time my cock came out it's steel prison was for Mistress to tease play with it. It was HER toy she said.  Hers and hers alone. 

Merciless denial, constant torment.

Day forty nine and she was offering me a choice.

Unlocked, teased, deep inside her but unable even to pleasure her properly in my extremely sensitive and desperate state.  I wanted so much to thrust deep inside her.  To give her the fucking that I knew she wanted.  But just couldn't. She had deliberately made me unable, deliberately made my cock useless.

It was in this position, buried inside her yet hardly able to move, that she gave me my choice.

'You may choose to cum today.  I will let you.  Or you can play my game.'

Indecision filled my mind.  I WANTED to cum.  I wanted nothing more. I had an urgent and overwhelming need for it.  Yet... yet I also needed the submission that suffering for her brought.  I needed her pleasure, I needed the frustration.

'Don't you want to play my game?' she asked.

She had refused to even tell me what it involved until after I made the decision.

Looking into her eyes, sinking into her, I had no choice.

'Yes please Mistress.'

Her whispered, 'Good boy' almost made me explode.

The game was simple.

I would have to pay for my next orgasm.  She would give me a small window of opportunity to get the money to her and if I managed, then I would be given my orgasm.  I would get one chance per week until I eventually won.

My mind reeled, thinking about it.  Surely it was simple?  All I had to do was quickly drive to her home, hand her the money.  Surely that would be easy? But when would she pick?  Would she make it difficult, knowing my work pattern and pick a time of peak traffic flow with a short time window?  Would she make the cost beyond what I could afford?

I wondered just when I would get my next orgasm, wondered if I had made the right choice after seven weeks of denial.

My helplessness hitting me like a brick wall, desperation filling me as she rode me, I fell into utter hopelessness.  Sobbing for the orgasm I couldn't have.  That I had voluntarily sacrificed.  Sobbing at my situation, yet knowing I needed it so badly.

She quietly held me as I sobbed.

Friday found me sat at my desk at work, concentrating hard and feeling stressed.  A difficult piece of work had to be finished by the end of the day and I was unsure even where to find all the information.  Then the knock knock of Mistress's text hit my phone.  Every time I hear that knocking it feels like I am being summoned.

'You need to post me a twenty pound note today.....'

The game was on.

But she didn't want just any twenty pound note.  It had to have one of her initials and two numbers from the year of her birth in the serial number.

Oh my.

I sat at my desk, flushed, staring at the phone.

My cock was a rod of steel within the cage.

My tummy was churning.

What could I do?

How could I get the right twenty?

Experimentally I asked a couple of colleagues if they had a twenty.

They just laughed and then probed why I wanted one.

That wasn't going to work.

Shit.

Lunchtime found me dashing out the building to the bank.  Maximum withdrawal - £400.  My fingers trembling as the cash machine worked, please please please have the right note.

And there it was.  The golden nugget with the right numbers and letters.  And then another. And another!  It wasn't as hard as I had worried, in fact it now seemed easy.  I was going to get my orgasm!

Smiling happily, I sent a photo to her.

Then.... oh.  I couldn't fully remember her address.  I knew the postcode and street name, but the number of her house eluded me. 

Simple.  A text to his Mistress would sort that out.

She replied, 'That's part of the game.'

Time was ticking and I had a meeting at work.  It was almost 1pm.  Quickly back to the office, I brought up google maps onto her house.  

The street number didn't show.

Street view, that would do it...

Which wasn't quite good enough to show the number of her house!

Panicking slightly now I realised I was late for my meeting.

The meeting finished after 3pm.  

Time was getting short.

Mistress seemed delighted by the game and my struggles.  It didn't help that my cock was responding to her.

Tick. Tick.

How to find her address?

Tick.

Tick.

Her emails - checked.

Scratching my head, tummy fluttering.  

I couldn't miss this orgasm!

Then I had it.  A simple check I should have done right away brought her full address into the palm of my hand.

Elation filled me.

I dashed to the post office to send it recorded delivery.  This money could NOT be lost in the post.  It was worth far more than twenty pounds.  It was worth seven weeks of frustration and denial.

Arriving at the post office, I couldn't believe it.

A sign on the door announced it was closed due to industrial action.

Panic hit me again.

I could just see her glee, the smile on her face at my predicament.  I could imagine her enjoyment if I failed.  But what would the next week bring if I did?  It might be even harder!

Rushing through town, desperate now I went in search of another post office.

Twenty minutes of searching and there it was.  Open.

I breathed a sigh of relief and joined the queue.

Money posted, I slowly walked back to work.

I had just paid for an orgasm.

My only hope to cum was to pay for it.

My cock throbbed in it's cage.

My face flushed hot and red.

Butterflies filled my tummy.

I had PAID for an orgasm.

Then her text arrived informing me I would still have to wait an extra week for it.  An earlier misdemeanour which she had told me about had earnt me a punishment of additional denial. It was not being overlooked.

Another week.... my minimum term would be nine weeks. Sixty three days.

I walked back to work trying to hide the bulge created by my cock throbbing in the cage.

I felt the hopelessness of the continued wait filling me.  The need engulfing me.

I had paid for an orgasm and now had to wait.

I loved Her.

I loved Her game.

Her cock, responding to Her love letter...

I love you for keeping me locked up,

I love your strength, your lack of mercy.  

I love your kindness, disguised to the uninitiated as cruelty.

I love how you devour me, your intensity, the way you intimidate me.

I love the feeling of helplessness, hopeless knowledge I will never again know unrestrained satisfaction.

The certain knowledge it will always be frustrating, it will always be suffering for your pleasure.

I love how I wake in the night and cannot sleep for hard steel, filling the cage,

mind engulfed with thoughts of you.

I love the knowledge that I will never again need to search. That I am home.

I loved the important message you gave me on Monday, the emotion that filled me in my ecstasy.

Such emotion.

I love 63 days.  I love your number, whatever it may be.

I love that I WANT to wank - right now especially, and all the time.

I love that I cannot.  No matter how I may plead and there truly is no escape.

I love how you make me cry. 

I love the tears of joy that roll down my face as I read your love letter, as I write this.

Most of all Mistress, most of all, I am completely and utterly in love with you.

Your adoring boy. xxx

 

     

My Cock.. (A love letter)

I love him for being locked up for me..

I love him for needing me..

I love him for being so sensitive

when I touch him

when your shirt touches him

just brushing over him.. how he needs for a touch...

I love how he feels..

when he is wet, when he slips between my fingers..

I love how he makes you make little noises...

of desperation... how he contorts your face

with frustration..

I love how he fits inside my mouth so well,

(I do so love cock in my mouth)

I love how it makes you say, Mistress, please be careful

In a breathless, nervous way

because you know you are not allowed to cum,

let alone cum in my mouth.

I love how we gaze at him, both of us, together, just staring at him,

When he so desperately wants more,

And we both know that your hands can't touch him anymore.

So he waits, until I say, that is it for today,

and he goes away, into his metal home,

his prison,

frustrated,

denied,

owned.

Owned for life now.

This is his lot...



While you are still free to wank over the idea,

My cock lives this way - and I love him for it.

Just One......

It had been 60 days since his last orgasm, and 30 days since he had last had his cage removed. 30 days without being touched, no stimulation, not even an erection. He had felt horny to the point of despair for what seemed like forever, but he knew that today it would all be over. All that suffering and waiting and eternal frustration would be allowed a release today.

There was a regular pattern now. He knew it well and was preparing already. He was making sure the house was meticulous. Cleaning, polishing, putting fresh bedding on the bed.. His clothes had already been chosen the night before, ironed and hung waiting. He had showered the previous night, and would shower and freshly shave himself shortly before her arrival. When Mistress came to his home, everything had to be just right. 

He knew that she would remove his device, there maybe some teasing involved and some play, but he also knew, that at some point, he would get to make love with her, that she would orgasm 3 times, and then he would be allowed his orgasm before being locked up again.

He was so ready.. he was so desperate for her. He was worried that he might not last, and be able to satisfy her because he was about ready to explode just from the sight of her, the smell of her, her taste...

he felt on the edge of orgasm just thinking about it.

She arrived, as always at precisely the time planned. The predictable routine had begun.. She kissed him and said she had missed him and was so ready for him. His heart was racing so fast, his cock pleading for the freedom to get hard, and as she walked upstairs he followed, imagining fucking her hard and fast.

She instructed him to undress, as was usual. She tied his hand and gagged him while he was stood, and then took out her keys from the pocket inside her handbag and undid his chastity device. His erection was immediate. 

She teased him, running her finger over his body, saying she could tell he needed her.

His cock strained and reached for her touch, and all he could think was how warm her pussy would feel..

Then she spoke to him.. "You are very lucky, you know. Not many chastity subs get to have sex with their Mistress. They are just denied sex altogether. You are such a lucky boy being able to fuck me so freely."

He hmphed a yes through his gagged mouth.

"I have decided that you have had too much freedom with me and I am going to limit you as from today. As from now, you are only allowed to push your cock into me just one time. One single push in, and out. That is it. Even that is a privilege. You are going to spend your days aching from now on for one single push in and out.."

He could hardly believe what he was hearing. His eyes had widened in disbelief and he was making sounds though his gag intimating the question "why?" His heart was thumping against his chest and he felt faint with disappointment and despair.. and yet, despite this, his cock throbbed and bounced and responded to her words as if it had its own mind. It was aroused at the thought....

She untied him and removed his gag, and dutifully he began giving her now naked body kisses and touches that pleasured her, and in turn aroused him all the more.
Her three orgasms were given as normal, and then she said.. "you can push your cock into me now.. well done.. you have earned your one push."

He was almost crying, whimpering, as he began to push himself into her, savouring every moment. She allowed him to remain inside her, if he was motionless.. so he layed there very still, feeling her warmth.

"You need more don't you?" She asked him. That was such an understatement. He needed more like she just wouldn't believe..

"Ihave have an idea", she said excitedly. He lifted his head, intent on hearing what she said. How about if I let you have more pushes, (Oh yes, please, more pushes... she had been playing, it was just a game.. oh the delight of more... his mind was in fast forward and he was beginning to move before she had even finished)...Each extra push in and out, is going to cost you £10. You can have as many as you like, but you pay for them.

He really didn't care. It was all part of a game he now realised and he began fucking her hard, really desperately hard, hearing her counting as he did so... ten, twenty, thirty... She got to two hundred and twenty when his orgasm exploded, and he was thinking hot.. so damn hot, at her idea to play a game of making him pay.

He kept handcuffs on his windowsill when she came round, all toys out ready for if she wished to use them. She took both pairs and hand cuffed his ankles and hands.

She dressed, and then opened his bottom drawer. There was a money roll in there which she had seen early on in their relationship. She had questioned him about it, and he said he had it there for emergencies.

She took the elastic band off and began counting the tens.. No, no... She had always said she wasn't into financial domination. She wouldn't really take that much money from him just for one orgasm? But she was doing.. She counted out £220, and put the remainder of the money back in his drawer, and £220 into her purse.. and as she did so his cock responded in a way that made it feel so very right to him.

And he realised that from now on, this would form part of the new routine.

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.

Valentines Gift...

Today, I was presented with the most amazing gift. It completely blew me away! Really...

It had been for Valentines day, from my boy, but the item, being delivered from USA got stopped at customs... (!!).... and was delayed.

But it got here, and was presented to me and I am just so happy..

Do you remember star boy? The artist who drew the chastised boy who I loved so much?

poor-boy

My boy contacted him, and commissioned some art work from him. He sent Starboy photos to work from, and ideas for the images..

But it was all a surprise. Can you imagine how I felt when I unwrapped the parcel, and saw a little drawing of Starboy, stuck on the box as a clue..

Do you want to see?

Do you want to know what I am so excited about?

Just look!!!

I LOVE THEM!... I really, really love them...

Thank-you Starboy.

Thank-you my boy, for just being so very perfect for me..x