I am a keyholder. I like keys. I have always enjoyed the mysterious quality, potential and history that they hold.
As a child I searched for keys with tenacity and hid them away in a wooden box with fading gold trim. I had received the box from an old relative.
When I was with my collection I could pretend the keys went to anything I imagined. I could come up with tales about where they were from and how they had made their way to me.
So, it’s no surprise that I gravitated toward chastity play as a beloved essential in my kink repertoire. It involves three of my favorite things: cocks, denial, and keys!
I dabbled in chastity at first, never really having a partner who craved to be locked up the way I wanted until I met him — the submissive who begged me to keep his cock locked up until I thought it was worthy to be released.
I don’t think he fully understood the “prison” he was asking for. I was the warden and would gladly lock him away and keep the key for myself.
We started off our chastity play as just that: play. He would wear the (cock cage) device he had chosen for an hour or less when he served me each week. However, as we got to know each other more my dirty desires increased along with his. He had quite a lovely cock so it pleased me even more to know that when I wanted, it belonged only to me and I was depriving women all around of such a magnificent tool. We moved on to locking him up over the weekends and I loved receiving the texts from him begging for permission to be released because he had met someone at a bar or club and was ashamed to show them the cage, now of my choosing.
Of course I denied it every time. I joked that when he found a woman who wanted to share the key with me, that then and only then, would I allow him supervised release.
It had been more than two years with him being locked up on and off regularly. Mostly five days at a time and then I’d release him for cleanings or good behavior.
I never tired of hearing him plead with me late at night after sending naughty pictures of myself to him — just aching to touch himself, even if only for a few brief moments.
We began working on orgasm control and he became very good at controlling himself when I commanded him to come or not to come. I was impressed with his dedication to the cause.
We finally took a trip together that involved us flying and he was terrified he would be stopped at security for wearing his device. The entire wait up until we cleared security I kept jokingly grabbing him and saying: “Sir! We know what you’re hiding”. His eyes would widen and his breath would quicken and I would have the giggles for about five minutes at his fright.
Yes, controlling one’s orgasms, arousal, and direct contact with their own genitals seemed to be stirring something in me the deeper we delved. At one point he went 101 days straight without release!
But then something happened, he met a woman. A woman who somehow didn’t run at the sight of his cock cage (he willingly showed her). She was actually very curious about it and what it all meant. And while she had lapses in her expression of how “odd” it was, she eventually contacted me for advice and questions.
I told her nearly everything I knew about chastity devices and keyholding. She eventually asked me if she could hold the key on special occasions. I really had to ponder this. Was I ready to give up even just a fraction of the power I held over him? Relegating the command of his orgasms seemed impossible at that point. (And I’ll be the first to admit, I was on a bit of a power high haha)
When I consulted him on the situation he stated that he also worried that she was not prepared to be his dedicated keyholder so asked me if I would train her as a keyholder for the future. I was flattered and took up the challenge wholeheartedly.
Ten months, various workshops, piles of books, and hours of videos later I felt she was capable of keyholding for him. She seemed to have let go of nearly all the negative connotations she had toward chastity play and understood the deeper meaning behind it; he craved control and functioned better with it. And so could she.
It was shortly thereafter he told me he wanted to marry this woman who had become an integral part of our accidental triad. He wanted mypermission to do so. Who was I to deny him love? “Of course!” I told him instantly.
I was invited to the wedding but was unable to attend so instead I sent the best gift I could give. One that I hoped they would cherish as much as I had.
It was a card with a key attached that simply read: You already have the key to his heart now here is the key to his cock.