Key Holder: The True Story Of My Female Led Relationship

This book contains Steamy contents. Trish a spoiled rich heiress and party girl, pushes her luck one time too many when she decides to transport cocaine on a dare. She lands in the island of Santa Eduviges, is arrested, and enters the island's penal system as a naked collared slave. When she discovers there is no escape from her servitude, she accepts her new life of loving, satisfying, and serving the woman who bought her.

Warning : Matured Contents a LGBTQ+ Story, Lesbian Story. -King Shun creates a society for LGBTQ+ members, and a Lesbian who creates her own Slave Harem and love a BDSM sex. Welcome to my story

My wife, who had always despised lugging around keys, ditched our modern smart lock for a clunky old-school key version. She even bolted it shut during showers. Every time I returned from work, I'd have to ring her up first. Fed up, I slapped the divorce agreement on the table during a family get-together. Everyone assumed I was drunk and joking. My wife hauled off and cracked me across the face. "Am I asking too much? You promised you'd indulge me forever." I met her glare with icy indifference and let out a bitter scoff. "Aren't I divorcing you and never returning the ultimate indulgence?"

I returned home after studying abroad for three years, only to find that my brother’s girlfriend had brought her entire family to live in my mansion. The moment they saw me, they pinned me against the floor. "How dare you! Call him your sweetheart, spend his money, and now you're here to take my mansion? " When I saw the girlfriend’s crazed antics, I was shocked. “Who did you say owns the mansion?” “It’s my boyfriend’s, but it’ll be mine sooner or later. It has nothing to do with you.” With her parents, she yanked off the ancient pendant on my neck and crushed my heirloom bracelet. They even tied up my limbs, put me on the table, and positioned me in a humiliating pose to post online. Her brother pinned my legs down and reached under my shirt…

Devin King was my first—well, everything. They say you never forget your first. Whoever said that was right because no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get him out of my head or my heart. I foolishly thought my heart wouldn’t miss what it couldn’t see, but I was wrong because I never forgot, not for one moment. You’re not supposed to kiss your best friend. You’re not supposed to give your virginities to one another, either—but we did. We were kids, teenagers, full of hormones and mixed emotions, but it felt right. He was the first boy to kiss me, the first boy to touch me and taste me in a way only a lover would. “Say you want to be mine….” He whispered while I shook in his arms. And I did. And then he wrecked me. After I trusted him and gave myself to him, he disappeared, left me in my , the scent of him still lingering on my skin, the taste of his kiss still fresh on my lips. He left me after the amazing night we shared after we became one another’s and disappeared without a word. Until one day ten years later he pops up like a rash as the newly appointed CEO of our firm. Was I shocked to see him standing in the office after a decade? Yes. Did I almost faint? Hell yes. My heart may have melted a little when he smiled right at me, but he wouldn’t ever know that—because I hated him. But here I am, the VP of an established publication firm standing in the CEO’s office handcuffed to the pompous face. Why are we handcuffed you ask? Well, that's a funny story...

I was an absolute psycho when it came to the person I loved. As it turned out, we were the same kind of people. By day, I was her poker-faced secretary. By night, I would harass and spam her with hundreds of messages using my alternate account. When my feelings were rejected once again through my alt account, I abused my access at work and installed 138 hidden cameras in her house out of spite. Following a month-long observation of Tia from every angle, I discovered that she was planning to imprison her crush. Green with envy, I gave her a suggestion from my alt account. “I’d bought the sturdiest set of chains before. Practically escape-proof. Your crush isn’t going anywhere once he steps into your place. “For sharing the recommendation, can you date me for a month? That’s all I’m asking.” I sent her the link to purchase the chains, only to be met with silence. Just when I thought Tia would never give me the time of day, I woke up to find that I was held captive. The chain around my ankle was the one I’d recommended. Every one of the 138 hidden cameras at Tia’s place featured me on the monitor. I was dumbstruck. What was going on? Was I the one Tia’d planned to imprison? Was I her crush? Amid my surprise, Tia responded to my alt account. “Your chains came in handy, but sorry, I can’t date you. My secretary’s the only one for me.”