The Reality of Being .. Mistress KeyHolder's Boy

I asked my boy to write an article for my blog with the above title.. He said, simultaneouly, I am just writing an article for your blog...
We are so well matched!

Being Mistress Keyholder's slave...

I have had 4 orgasms this year.  That's since my first contact with Mistress on 1st January 2013.  An average of one orgasm every 50 days.

My last orgasm was before my birthday, 10 weeks, 4 days and 6 hours ago.

The last time cock was allowed out of the chastity cage was 3 weeks, 5 days and 5 hours ago.  Since that time he has not left the cage. Not once.

Not even unlocked - not even when I travelled through airport security. 

Cock has not had the freedom to even get hard for almost 4 weeks.

Mistress has gradually taken control of my life in other ways too.  I don't know where it will stop... and I don't want it to.

I work for her, earning money for her via the computer when I am able.

I am not allowed to look at porn without Mistress Keyholder's permission.  I could cheat, but I don't. It would ruin the point for us both.  She has told me that she intends eventually to stop me from looking at porn at all.

I am not allowed to look at other women - to ogle them.  I am not allowed to note a flash of cleavage, a shapely leg or (my personal achilles heel) a rounded bottom. I am to avert my eyes as I walk past.  Look at the floor. I am mostly successful in this task.

I am not allowed to text other women.  I cannot give out my phone number unless it is strictly for work. If I do receive a text from another woman, I must ask permission before replying.  Mistress has already stopped me texting one woman altogether who she thought was taking too much interest.

Mistress has the right to inspect my phone at any time she chooses.  The first time she did this I had absolutely no idea what was coming.  She handcuffed my hands behind my back.  I thought she was going to tease cock.

But then she took out my phone.

Demanded the password.

Inspected the contents.

Mistress has access to my bank.  That may sound foolish to some and I understand that viewpoint.  But in any case,  she has the password to my bank account and she knows she can go into it any time she wishes.  She can inspect exactly what I have spent and on what.  She can take money from my account. There is nothing stopping her at all from changing the password and locking me out of my own bank account, making me financially dependant on her, if she chooses.  Every week I must provide Mistress with a report detailing my finances, exactly what I have spent over the last 7 days.

Mistress has a liking for tattoos.  I don't have any.  But we have talked about one day... one day... her having me tattooed.  In the location of her choice. With the tattoo of her choice.  She has a fantasy about slowly covering my body in tattoos.  Making me her piece of art.  Not something to be done lightly, we both appreciate.  But in the fullness of time... I really do hope to become her living artwork.

Mistress Keyholder is strict.  She is harsh even. Merciless.  She does not tolerate any outbursts from me and is quick to put me in my place.  But at the same time she is loving.

She is caring.

She cares for cock so incredibly well.

I am in contact with her every day.  Every hour of every day we exchange messages if we don't see each other.  She ensures I am cared for and she enhances my frustration and desperation.

Up until recently Mistress has regularly touched, played with and tormented cock.

She takes him out of the cage, soothes him.  She talks to him and kisses him and shows him how much she loves him.

I had thought it was difficult.

I had thought I was frustrated.

More recently though I am learning otherwise.  I am sensing a change in Mistress Keyholder.

Due to circumstance we have not seen each other for the last four weeks.  During that time her attitude seems to have changed somewhat.  She appears to becoming more and more keen to keep cock locked for longer.  In fact the way she talks suggests almost permanent denial.  She really scares me.

She recently went on holiday.

Whilst on holiday she met another man.  Just an ordinary man who she took a liking to.  And spent more and more time with him, until the last day of her holiday, she kissed him.  Not a peck on the cheek.  A kiss.

Mistress has told me all about this.  In detail.

She told me that as she kissed this other man she thought about telling me about it.  She said this is what really made her heart race and excited her.

Mistress told me all about her feelings and interactions with this man whilst talking to me on Skype. She watched my reactions.  I could feel her eyes boring into me.  I felt...

pathetic.  Weak. Useless.  Because I did not rant and complain.  I accepted.  She told me that I was pathetic.  She could tell by the way I chewed and pursed my lip that cock was truly hers.  She told me she WANTED me to be pathetic.  That my state aroused her dominance.  

Mistress told me that she wants to see this man again.  That she wants him.  She told me that she wants to kiss him in front of me.  That she wants to watch me watching them, to see my reaction.  She wants to torture me.

She told me that the more she becomes involved with the man, the less she will need to release my cock.  I don't think for an instant that she will lose her love of my cock or that she will abandon it.  But instead, she will have less and less need to release it from the cage.  Instead just able to concentrate on what she enjoys the very most.  Denial of cock.

I have spent the last 24 hours in utter, utter turmoil.  I am so incredibly horny, cock feels constantly heavy and keeps swelling up.  My balls ache.  They really really ache.

Mistress has told me that the next time I see her, she will not be playing with cock.  I will not be getting the orgasm I have been begging for.  She has told me that if I am really lucky then I might, I just might, be allowed out of the cage and granted freedom to have a hard cock.  A hard cock that does not get touched.  She wants me to look forward to, to cherish and appreciate the gift of just being allowed to be hard.

I feel that Mistress is stepping up my denial.  That so far has just been a taster of what she is capable of.  That cock is going away for a long time.  That I will experience total, total denial.  

How does this make me feel?

Turmoil.

Torment.

I want to be hard.

I want to be touched.

I want to orgasm.

Like you wouldn't believe.

I know I have no choice. Cock is locked in a steel cage.  He is secured into it with a titanium padlock that impales the head of cock through a PA piercing and prevents cock from being pulled out.  Mistress Keyholder, holds the only key.

I feel such a need to be released.  But at the same time, the feelings of submission are overwhelming me.  To complete distraction.  I know that Mistress Keyholder's denial of cock is all about her pleasure.  I know that any action she takes is all about what will please her.  My need is irrelevant.  She told me - you sought me out.  You wanted chastity.  You knew what I was all about.  And now you are experiencing it.

She tells me I am pathetic.  That is how she wants me.  The more pathetic I become, the more she wants me to be that way and the more merciless she becomes.

So I know, I feel, that I am very genuinely her chastity slave.  A true slave to Mistress Keyholder. I cannot escape - even if I REALLY wanted I can't because she holds my heart. Because I love her and cannot be without her.  

These feelings of submission... stem from knowing how truly I am now her slave.  From her mercilessness and strength.  I love her for it. I worship her, I idolise her. I am so very very conflicted.  My NEED for sexual pleasure, for release, balanced against my NEED to serve.  To be her slave - not in play, but for real.  This conflict eats at me constantly.

Mistress, thank you for taking the choice from me.  WIthout lack of choice I could never have become what you are making me.

I had a fantasy earlier about my promised possible time out of the cage - the possibility of being hard.  I have been fantasising about being hard. How it will feel.  No touching, I know that's not allowed.

But then I imagined... the time coming.

Mistress telling me I had been such a good boy.

I deserved it.

I had been and was truly pathetic.  Her pathetic little boy.

And because of this, because I had pleased her so much, she was going to allow me to keep pleasing her.

She was going to allow me to become more pathetic.

And as I whined and whimpered my pleas, she explained how she would not be removing the cage after all...

In the conclusion of my report I have one last thing to say - a plea to Mistress Keyholder.  In a moment of clarity that will soon be overwhelmed in regret... in the full knowledge of what these words mean... 

Mistress... 

please 

please 

please

I beg you

keep me special.

I am Mistress Keyholder's chastity slave. 

No Touching for Cock..

The other day I saw my boy for a very short time.. We sneaked a few minutes together out of our Summer Separation.. 45 minutes in the back seat of his car.

We kissed, and as we did I put my hand under his shirt, feeling his body, and up, higher, until my fingers were touching his armpit. It was smooth, freshly shaven, just as I had requested. Lovely. I had thought he may have forgotten my request for our next meeting, and had planned on keeping him locked for letting me down, but his armpits were smooth and fresh.

So I took the key and placed it in the lock. It had been so long since the lock had been undone that it had become stuck. We both tried, jiggling the key about, trying to loosen it. It wasn't moving and I smirked at him being stuck there. He got a little more determined with the key, but he was having to put so much force into it that there was becoming a risk of damaging the key.

It did, however, eventually budge, and his device came off.

I examined cock, with care, and without touching him. I could sense his desperation, his hypersensitivity. His need was very obvious. And my boy made little noises, which told me all I needed to know. He was desperate for touch. Cock looked so very attractive in this desperate state.

And, in honesty, seeing cock looking like that, pleading with me, I was desperate for him! But I couldn't let my boy down. I couldn't spoil him, and so to satisfy myself, I launched my mouth onto his lower belly, really close to, but not touching cock. And I snogged with his belly, kissed and licked and applied my teeth to the softest, purest whitest skin on his belly, freshly shaven as per my instruction for our every meeting. It was a passionate moment, and he later told me he could have orgasmed from just that kissing, but he concentrated on relaxing to prevent letting me down.

I made him look at cock, and told him we would not be touching him. Not even a slight touch. We both stared at cock and I held him at the very base, and almost apologised that he would not have any touches. It was so special...

Poor, poor cock... I felt for him, but it was in his own interest. It was to make him better and keep him pure.

You can't be touched, cock, I'm sorry.. It's to help you.. It's for your own good.. I know you need me but I can't touch you...

And, I whispered to my boy, he has to go away now.. just a few minutes of being hard was his only reward for weeks of denial...

But it is doing him good.... my boy is trying so hard. He is being such a good boy. 

Wouldn't you be?

Don't you just wish it was you?

He is so lucky isn't he?

Lucky, denied , special boy.

Summer Separation

Right from the beginning of the year, when our relationship first began, I knew that the summer holidays would be a difficult and testing time. In those first few months though, it really didn't concern me much as I just didn't expect us to be together that long. Past experience had taught me that long term chastity relationships didn't happen.

However, my boy has stayed with me, and we have grown together. He hasn't failed me and I have had no reason to dispose of him. So eventually, we were faced with the summer holidays. 6 weeks of virtually no contact and our only communication by text, e.mail and Skype. I could forsee misunderstandings occurring from the difficulty of text communications, emotional distance from the lack of physical contact and just a general breakdown in our closeness.

Surprisingly, 4 weeks in, quite the opposite has happened.

We decided he would remain locked. That he would have no orgasm and no relief from the cage. He had already gone 2 months without orgasm. It was a scary prospect.

Understandably, he has been desperate. I mean truly, truly desperate for relief. Scared, hopeless, frantic. He has really suffered for me. But the more he has suffered, as the intensity of his denial has got to him, I have enjoyed him so much more. So much so, that I began saying I didn't want it to end. I didn't want to spoil it for him.

Not just an orgasm. I didn't even want to touch him, to stroke cock even. I knew that if I did, even without orgasm, it would offer him some level of satisfaction. I said to touch him would be to erase the feelings he was now experiencing. It would be to rub them away. And as I told him these things, that I wanted to extend his denial, he became more helpless, hopeless, pathetic in his need, and his patheticness aroused me so much, I wanted to increase it...

And so we were spiralling, deeper and deeper.. feeding from each other. The more in a mess, in a terrible tormented state he was getting, the more I wanted not to destroy that for him. His new special feelings. I wanted to keep him special.

And I coaxed and cajoled him, into admitting, into actually telling me, he too wanted this for himself. He wanted his training to be taken to the next level.

And so, my chastised slave.. is being pushed. His limits taken beyond where he would naturally chose to go, and he is becoming more mine.

He IS my slave.

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.

Birthday boy.

We had been out cycling together, and afterwards, in the car, I told him to remove his device.

He wore a tight, silky smooth cycling shirt, and I tucked his cock underneath it. Cock protested, pushed himself against the silky fabric, but the tightness of the shirt held him in place, restrained him, allowed him to press, but not escape.. and so he continued to lurch against the fabric, half trying to escape, half out of the thrill of feeling something other than cold metal encasing him.

I let my hands, my fingers, play over the silky shirt, not near cock but just feeling my boy's body..cock liked that. He wanted it to be him. He beckoned me, but my hands continued to enjoy the feel of a fit man's torso, through silkiness..

Eventually, my fingers began to brush closer to cock, and he became more excited. He jumped knowing the touches were nearing him, and the pressure on the fabric stimulated him,  just fractionally.. until at last, my finger glanced over him, the lightest touch..and it continued there, toying with cock. The lightest movements, encouraging his excitement.

I began to slide his shirt up, causing arousing friction against cock. He enjoyed it, and so the edge of silky t-shirt became his tormentor, giving him touch just enough to feel, but not enough to satisfy, the shirt went back down, but my face moved closer...

...and closer, until, through fabric, I kissed him. I kissed him, with such care and such feeling, and he responded to me.. he kissed me back.. you may laugh if you don't understand, but he did kiss me back. He leant towards me and we kissed, like lovers kiss, slowly but with intense passion. It was as if we had been reunited after a long separation, that type of kiss... and so I continued, my private, intense passion with my lover, my cock, and he reciprocated..through fabric.

And I glanced up to my boy, who was by now murmering. He looked down at our interaction - an intruder, I felt.. a peeping Tom, sneekily observing our sensuality, getting off on watching, a cuckold, distanced from me and my cock, a passive observer. But I allowed him embarrassed glances..



Spit from my mouth lubricated my fingers as I ran them over cock.. out of his fabric constraints, wet fingers now tormented him. Soaked wet fingers, my thumbs, my tongue, my mouth...I became deeply involved with my lover, intensely aroused by him.. our interaction..and the murmerings from my boy became more desperate, needy..

Today my cock was 42.

Do you think he got an orgasm for his birthday?

How well do you know me?..

If you know me well, you know the answer.

It took quite a while to get him away, secured in metal...

Happy Birthday my love...x

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...