The Keyholders: Ch. 01

*One of the ideas I have for a series. I don't often revisit stories, preferring the freedom of putting Rory through individual situations and experiences. But, I've had a few ideas circulating in my mind, so I am curious what people think! Let me know your favourite, and what you'd like to read more of :)*

Chapter One: The First Envelope

Giggling to myself, I played with the hem of the silk nightie I had chosen to wear. A light pink, matching the stockings and garters currently encasing my smooth legs. That familiar tightness, that constant reminder of my girly mood and outfit, a permanent smile spread across my face. Sitting down at my computer, I browsed many different stories, pictures, and captions, my mind a mess of fantasies. Rory was fully in control, and enjoying being her overtly girly self.

As I perused a collection of adorable sissy dresses, a little moan escaped my lips. The bright colours, matching stockings and hose, little lace gloves, white trimming, all coming together to create an outfit that screamed submissiveness. That craved control. I whimpered, wanting nothing more than to be in service to someone wearing that outfit.

Feeling my clit beginning to strain under the effects of what I was seeing, my hands moved down to my cage. Locked away for the evening, key stored in a safe place until morning, I whimpered as my clit grew and pulsed in its prison. Rubbing my balls and the tip of my cage, I quickly became lost in the sensations of being denied. Being locked. There was always something so enticing about chastity, something about having the image of "masculinity" locked away from you, that just made me want be to such a good girl. To be Rory.

With a constant echoing of my subtle little whimpers, I looked on, envisioning all the experiences I wished to have as Rory. Some were cute, like wearing a pretty dress and going for a walk, holding hands with my keyholder. Some more depraved or humiliating, being a good sissy for my Master or Mistress, my own pleasure coming only from servitude. A constant mix of enticing experiences, of fun little adventures I wish I had in my life as Rory. My clit caged and tucked away, knowing it would not be released until the morning, I lost myself in wishing I was her, knowing the longer I was caged the stronger the need grew.

Eyes wide, my heart and clit pulsing and pounding with excitement, I switched over to Fetlife to check on any notifications. Smiling, I answered some messages from other cd's and sissies I talked to frequently, seeing some new and cute pictures they posted. I curiously checked a message from a profile I didn't recognise, no picture or bio to speak of (which rarely is a good sign), and yet something about it was intriguing. No subject, simply a phrase that almost read as a command, one that played over and over in my mind.

Do you have a keyholder?

It wasn't the first time Rory had an admirer reach out, someone more dominant interested in the many pictures I portrayed with my caged clitty. My meager collection of lingerie and outfits was exhausted at this point, not wanting to repeat photo sessions too often. Yet, sometimes a girl needed to share, to feel pretty. Or, more appropriately in my case, to feel like a little whore.

A lot of these "Dom's" fell under two categories. Aggressive, with no respect or boundaries, immediately demanding with no sense of limitations, only to fade away just as quickly. I had learned very quickly that people like this weren't worth the effort even to respond to. The other category being Findomme's, women who preyed on cd's and sissies alike, knowing their desperation to explore that side of themselves, offering to do so in exchange for "tribute". While I am sure some are well meaning, even good at what they do, it wasn't something I was interested in as Rory. I didn't want to feel like there was a part of me I could only express or feel acknowledgement of through payment.

Yet this message felt different. No promises, no over reaching, just one simple question that lingered in my mind, exciting my little caged clit.

Do you have a keyholder?

I started to write "I wish", a smile on my face at the sassy response. Giggling, I decided to bite, seeing where this led, not expecting much but I was in the mood for adventure.

No

Tabbing out of the website, I went back to my exploration of all things girly. Fueling my obsession with heels, I saved many for possible future purchases, already envisioning the outfits you could build around them. There was something about being stuffed into heels, teetering six inches off the ground, mincing with each step as you focused staying upright. Like chastity, it just made falling into that girly mood, into being Rory, that much easier.

Surprised, I noticed the mystery message had a response, a little (1) on my screen that demanded an answer. Clicking on Fetlife, I giggled at yet another simple message, straight forward and to the point.

Would you like one?

Continuing our little charade, I kept my message as bare as theirs.

What will it cost me?

Knowing that would probably be the end of that, a link sent with some random website that needed my credit card for "safekeeping" or some nonsense. It was always the same sadly, the same experience over the years again and again. Disheartening if you let it be, but there was many ways to enjoy being feminine online or in person, you just had to look. Had to get passed all the bullshit, both external and internal.

Yet the response I received was not what I was expecting.

Your commitment. And your key.

Interesting. This was new. No website, no overly complicated demands, no terrible spelling of what they wanted to "do to me". Simple, vague, and concise. My curiosity firmly engaged, attention drawn in to this bizarre interaction, I was hooked. Rory needed to see where this went, and in my pink nightie and caged clit, I was in no position to argue.

What commitment would that be?

A simple trade. You send us the key, and in return we shall send you a task. Complete the task, and you will earn your key. Your clit will remain locked until you do.

What kind of task will I have to complete?

You will only know the task once you send us the key. After each unlock you will be asked if you want to continue.

Well, now that was exciting. My little whimper returned, a pulsing clitty betraying my love of their idea. What would the task be? How could I give up my key to such uncertainty, even if the sissy inside of me was screaming encouragement to do so. She, however, was a needy little slut, who craved control and attention. Her opinion could not be trusted.

Who is "us"?

Our organisation. We are made up of many individuals who enjoy locking and controlling girls like you.

What do you get out of it?

Your commitment. Your key.

Do I get to know more about this "organisation"?

No.

Pouting, I growled at my screen. Why were they being so secretive, and what the hell did they mean by their "organisation"!? A part of me knew I should end it there, knew that they were not being open, transparent. Yet, I also wanted to be controlled, to know what it felt like to be an owned little pet, a good girl. My heart thumped in my chest as I continued to respond.

Surely it can't be that simple

A task for your key, with the option to continue after each unlock. These are the terms.

Do I get a specific Master or Mistress from your organisation?

No.

How do I get my key back?

We will send it to you.

How will you know I am a good girl and don't cheat?

You want to be controlled, Rory. To be owned. It is evident from your profile. From your pictures. It is why we contacted you. We are good at finding people who need this. Need us.

Shocked, taken aback by the simple truth. They were right of course, that is exactly what I wanted. What I needed. Kept caged, my desire to be Rory would grow and develop, my need to please, to serve, amplifying. When I had the inner strength to make it past the first few days of temptation to cum, that feeling was pleasure in and of its own. That craving to be a good girl. Almost shaking, finding myself drawn into these messages, I continued.

How would I send you my key?

An envelope will be sent to you.

An envelope?

Yes.

And I just send it back with my keys inside?

Yes.

Both?

Yes.

And then I receive this task?

Yes.

And if I complete it I will get my keys back?

Yes.

In another envelope?

Yes.

Why does it sound so simple?

Because it is, sweetie. We aren't trying to trick you, or lie. We simply offer what we know you crave, what you want. Control.

There it was again, that simple concept laid out in the open. What did we all want? What did all of us sitting at home, self-caged and dressed in the small array of girly clothes we owned want? One simple word, the word that pushed me over the edge to agreeing to this rather...insane situation. Control...

I'm nervous :(.

We know.

It's a big step!

Yes.

I can choose to keep my keys after the task if I don't like it?

Yes.

*Gulp*...okay. I will do it.

We need to hear you say you will give us your commitment to the task. Commitment to provide your keys.

I rolled my eyes at their request, secretly loving the immediate controlling nature of this mystery person.

I promise to commit to the task you give to me, and provide you with my keys.

Do you promise to be a good girl?

Yes!!!!

Very well. You will receive your envelope shortly. When we receive your keys you will be sent your task. You will do the task to completion, providing the evidence we ask for. Do you understand Rory?

Yes. Nervous again.

Don't be, sweetie. This will be fun. You will enjoy this.

Are you sure?

Yes.

How do you know?

You aren't the first girl we have done this for.

Okay :). I will wait for the envelope.

Good girl. We will talk soon.

Just like that, it was over. Over stimulated from the experience, I rushed into bed with my phone, a vibrator humming away on my clit. Moaning, the conversation repeating in my mind again and again, I nearly cried as I came, my caged clitty leaking all over my sheets. Exhausted, I fell asleep a mess, my mind racing over the possibilities of this mystery keyholder.

The next day my envelope arrived, cementing that this was real. Pink with beautiful calligraphy,Rory written out on the front. I traced over my girly name with shaking fingers, hesitantly placing my keys inside before sealing the opening. Walking downstairs, I stood in front of the letter box of my apartment for what seemed like ages, terrified of the next step. The words of my mystery keyholder still playing in my mind. "You want to be controlled, Rory. To be owned".

With a surge of confidence, I nearly threw the envelope into the hole, running back upstairs before I could change my mind. My clitty throbbing, aching in its now unlockable prison, I raced to my messages.

I mailed them just now.

Good girl.

I'm so nervous! When will I get my task?

Soon.

A few days?

Soon.

A week!?

Soon.

Hmph!

Patience, Rory. Patience.

As if I could be patient at a time like this! Willingly mailing my keys to a random "organisation", no spare, no longer in control of my own clit. A mix of doubt, fear, and arousal coursed through me, a confusion of emotions as I answered.

But I'm excited!

We know.

Do I get to know more about you now? About the organisation?

No.

Hey!!

Task for a key, Rory. That is all you need to know.

Can I still talk to you?

Yes.

I'm horny already...

Good.

Am I still allowed to cum?

For now.

Okay :).

Just be a good girl for us, Rory. We shall take care of the rest.

I promise.

Good girl.

May I cum right now? I am too excited about losing my keys.

Yes, as long as the cage stays on. Remember Rory, task for a key.

I remember. Can you tell me what my task will be now?

No.

Grrrrrrrrrrrrr.

You will know soon enough.

Okay :). What do I call you?

Your new keyholders. Talk soon, Rory.

Just like that, I had a keyholder. Rory had a keyholder. I gave my keys away with zero knowledge of who they were going to, who was behind the screen. No clues as to who controlled the prison my clit was currently trying to burst out of, straining to be free. Giggling, still feeling slightly overwhelmed by the experience, I simply let myself fall into the experience I had gotten myself into.

As my vibrator tore another orgasm out of my aching little clit, I decided to do exactly what my keyholder said.

I decided to be a good girl.

I decided to be patient.