How to be a keyholder.

The key is the smallest part of it. What a keyholder really holds is somebody’s trust: that you will pay attention, that you will say yes when their body needs you to, and that the power they have handed you will be used with care. Everything else — the timings, the games, the teasing — rests on that.

It is also a role with work in it. A keyholder who locks their partner up and then forgets about them for a fortnight has not been in charge of anything. Chastity is most rewarding for both people when the keyholder is present in it, most days, in some small way.

You are not holding a key. You are holding someone’s trust, with a key attached.

Agree the basics together, out loud, before anything goes on:

• How long, to begin with. A first lock-up should be short — a day or two. You can always go longer next time.
• Where the key lives. In your pocket, in a safe, or in a timed box. And who can reach it in an emergency if you are away.
• What ends it early, no questions asked. Pain, numbness, swelling, broken skin, a medical appointment. Say it now so nobody has to argue about it later.
• How you will check in. A daily word about how it is going, physically and emotionally.

The person wearing the device can feel a problem; you can make it easy for them to say so. Ask how it is going, and mean the question. Plan cleaning breaks rather than treating them as a lapse: a short, supervised break to wash properly is part of doing this well. Never punish somebody for asking to take the device off for a health reason, and never make them feel that asking was a failure.

If you are not sure whether something is a problem, the device comes off. A lock-up can always start again tomorrow.

A lock-up that is nothing but waiting gets dull, and dull is when people give up. Give each day something:

• A cage check — a photograph asked for at a time they did not expect.
• A small task to earn a reward, or simply because you asked.
• A message that reminds them who has the key.
• A spin of a wheel, with outcomes you agreed in advance.
• A milestone marked — a week, a fortnight, a month — with real praise.

If you use games, keep them fair. A wheel where every outcome makes things longer stops being a game very quickly. Let some outcomes be good ones.

Plenty of keyholders are not in the same house as the person they hold. That works well, but it changes what you have to plan for. Decide how the key can be reached if you cannot be — a timed box, a combination written down and sealed, or a trusted friend — because an emergency is no time to find out there is no plan.

Check in more, not less. A photograph at an unexpected time, a short call, a question about how they are sleeping: small signs that you are paying attention matter more when you cannot see each other. And make sure they can always tell you, at any hour, that the device has had to come off.

Much of keyholding is answering requests: for a release, for a cleaning break, for a day off. Answer them properly and promptly, even when the answer is no. A request left hanging for two days is harder to bear than a clear no. And say yes sometimes, when it has been earned or when you simply want to — a keyholder who never grants anything is not holding a key, they are holding a grudge.

When the lock-up ends, talk about it. What was good, what was hard, what to do differently next time. The conversation afterwards is often where the next, better lock-up gets planned. If October is coming, our guide to Locktober covers a whole month together.

In My Dynamic, the keyholder starts a lock-up and the person wearing the device confirms it, so the record has both voices on it. You can set a goal, ask for cage checks whose photos are deleted once seen (or kept, if you both agree), approve cleaning breaks and pauses that do not end anything, and offer a spin of a wheel whose outcomes you choose. Milestones reach both of you. And there is always a way out for the person wearing it that can never be switched off — the keyholder is told at once. See the chastity side of the app.