Tied

Not for those under 18 (or whatever the legal age for this sort of stuff is in your area). If you’re not that old, Boo! Go away now. If you are offended by graphic descriptions of sexual activities, especially non-consensual ones, then don’t read this. All characters and situations are fictional.

Copyright 2025 greyscribbler@yahoo.com

Archived on the Read Only Mind web site by permission of the author. This story may be downloaded for personal archiving as long as this notice is retained.

“Susan!” Abigail cried, throwing her hands up in the air in frustration. “Seriously girl! You need to calm down!”

Susan shot her friend a guilty look as she half-fixed a disordered shelf of books. Noting the dust on the shelf she picked up a cleaning cloth before putting it down without using it. Maybe I should vacuum now. No, the dust will get on the floor when I clean the shelf, so I should do that first. I think. Or maybe something else…? God, there’s so much.

She could feel the force of Abigail’s eyes on her, her friend standing in the middle of the loungeroom of their shared apartment as Susan fluttered from one thing to another.

“But my parents are going to be here soon,” Susan moaned, shooting worried glances around the room. “And I need to get this place cleaned up… And…”

“Hey,” Abigail smiled at Susan, cautiously approaching her. “Like I said. Calm down. They’re not supposed to be here until what, …, five? It’s not even lunchtime yet. So you’ve got ages.”

“Yeah,” Susan sighed, running a hand through her strawberry-blonde hair. Everything felt like a weight pressing on her chest. “I know. But you know how I get.”

“I know,” Abigail nodded sympathetically. “I know. But it’s not going to help if you get too worked up. I mean…” The brunette didn’t say anything else, just waving gently in her friend’s direction.

Susan looked down, at her fidgeting hands and her foot tapping restlessly on the floor. “I’m hopeless,” she sighed.

“You’re not hopeless,” Abigail smiled. “You just get anxious. And what do we do when you get anxious?”

“You help me breathe,” Susan replied, something helping the words slip so easily from her.

“That’s right,” her friend smiled. It was a nice smile. Not for the first time, Susan wondered why her friend never seemed to have a boyfriend. She was attractive and funny and considerate and just what some guy should want. “So that’s what we’re going to do now. Just breathe. In … and out. In … and out.”

I can do this, Susan told herself. She knew that it was going to help calm her down. It wasn’t just that she remembered it. Somehow, she just knew.

“In … and out,” Abigail repeated softly.

Susan blinked. Her friend was standing so close to her. But that was alright. As long as Abigail helped her calm down.

“So good to just breathe in … and out. So relaxing. You’re doing so well.”

Susan wanted to do well. She wanted to relax. Knew that she needed to. There was something telling her that she did.

“So relaxing. So calming. In … and out. You know what to do. You’ve done this so many times before.”

Abigail had helped her before. Helped her to be calm. To relax. Made the anxiety go away. Susan wasn’t sure how many times they’d done this. Four? Five? Fifty? It didn’t matter.

As long as it helped her…

“Relax,” Abigail said, her eyes never leaving Susan’s. “So deep. So calm. In ... and out. Just focussing on your breathing. Not worrying about anything else. Letting everything else fall away. Just in … and out. So relaxed. So calm. Going deeper.”

Susan almost thought that she should say something, agree with her friend. But she knew that it was important that she should just focus on her breathing.

And listening to her friend.

“Letting your thoughts go. Each time you breath in … and out more thoughts drift away. Taking all that anxiety with them.”

Susan could feel her thoughts fall from her head, each breath leaving her mind a little emptier. It was almost like she’d done this before.

“So relaxed,” Abigail smiled. “So calm. But it’s not enough, is it? There’s still that little knot of anxiety. You need something more, don’t you?”

Susan almost frowned. She did need something more. Even though she was so calm, so relaxed as she breathed in … and out. Her thoughts drifting away. But she did need something more. Maybe Abigail would tell her what it was.

“Even though you’re so relaxed. So calm. So deep.” Her friend’s voice was a gentle breeze across Susan’s mind. “Thoughts just drifting away as you breathe in … and out. Your hands are still moving.”

Dimly, Susan was aware that that the fingers of both her hands were tapping erratically against her thighs.

“So distracting, aren’t they? You don’t want that. You want to be calm, relaxed, as you breathe in ... and out. As you go deeper. You want me to help you. Like I have before.”

Had Abigail helped her? Her friend was helping now. And what had Abigail done before? Susan couldn’t remember. But she was sure that whatever her friend was going to do, it would just be to help her.

“You just stay right there,” Abigail grinned. “Just breathing in … and out. Feeling so calm and relaxed. Going deeper. I’ll be right back.”

Susan did as she was told. Just standing there, her thoughts drifting away with each breath.

Her friend was soon back, carrying something in her hands. Susan didn’t pay any attention to that.

She was just supposed to breathe.

“Now,” Abigail said, standing behind Susan. “Give me your hands. Behind your back, just like that. As you keep breathing in … and out. Feeling how calm and relaxed that makes you. But this will make you even more calm and relaxed. You know that. We’ve done this before. So many times.”

Susan simply stood there, as Abigail first took her right hand. She could feel something going around her wrist. So tight. Around and around and around. There was something familiar about it. Something comforting. Then her left hand. Next to her right. Something so tight about the wrist. Her hands were together. Tied.

Something about that felt so right.

“There,” Abigail smiled, reappearing in front of Susan. “Doesn’t that feel so much better? You know how having your hands tied together makes you feel so calm and relaxed. So much easier to feel calm and relaxed when your hands can’t move. You know that.”

Susan did. Having her hands tied together made her feel calm and relaxed.

“You love having your hands tied together. It’s so right. It makes you feel calm and relaxed not being able to move your hands.”

Susan nodded, slowly. She did feel so much more calm and relaxed with her hands tied together. It was something she knew. That she’d learnt. Even if she hadn’t remembered it until Abigail had reminded her.

“So let’s just breathe some more,” Abigail smiled. “In … and out. Going deeper. Feeling your thoughts drifting away. So good to have your hands tied together. To not be able to move them.”

Susan could feel the rope about her wrists. Tight, but not painful. Like she was being held by something so comforting. 

“You’re so deep,” Abigail breathed, nervously biting her lower lip as she peered at her friend. “I’ve never managed to get you this deep. I mean, I was planning to, obviously. Maybe even tomorrow, after your parents… But you flitting about was just too much. God, you’re so gorgeous. Why do you get so anxious? You’re so beautiful. I’ve wanted you forever. I couldn’t tell you. I know you’re not into girls.” Abigial paused, checking the rope around Susan’s wrists.

“Not yet, anyway.”

Abigail’s words didn’t register with Susan, her mind so empty of everything but being calm and relaxed and how good it felt to have her hands tied together.

“You love having your hands tied together. It makes you feel good, so calm and relaxed. And even though it makes you feel calm and relaxed it feels so very, very good. So good, it’s pleasurable. It turns you on. You know that, we’ve talked about it before.”

Susan couldn’t remember that. But it didn’t matter, her hands were tied and she was so calm and relaxed. It was turning her on.

“Tell me what having your hands tied together does.”

“Having my hands tied together makes me calm and relaxed,” Susan replied. So easily. Like she’d said it so many times before. “It turns me on. Having my hands tied together turns me on.”

“Good,” Abigail. “Your hands are tied together, so you must be turned on. It feels so good to be turned on. You want more. Tell me you want to be turned on more.”

“I want more,” Susan answered, feeling how good it was to have her hands tied behind her, unable to move them. “I want to be turned on more.”

“Okay,” Abigail caught her own breath. “So think about that. As you breathe in … and out. Going deeper. You want to be turned on more. And if having your hands tied together turns you on, then being more tied up will turn you on more. In … and out. Thinking about how you want to be more turned on, more tied up. Those are the only things you can think about.”

Those were the only things Susan could think about. She wanted to be more turned on. She wanted to me more tied up.

“What do you want?”

“I want to be more turned on,” Susan replied, the words slipping so easily from her. “I want to be more tied up.”

“I should have thought this through a bit more,” Abigail muttered, having disappeared and then returned again, a pair of scissors in hand. “I’m not going to untie your hands. You don’t want that.”

Susan didn’t. She was so calm and relaxed with her hands tied behind her. And so turned on. 

“I mean, you wouldn’t miss these,” Abigail continued, cutting away Susan’s top and the t-shirt that lay underneath it. “They’re just old things you threw on to clean. And anyway, I can make sure you don’t worry about them.” The garments soon lay in discarded scraps on the floor. A few more snips and Susan’s bra joined them.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” the brunette exclaimed, her eyes fixed on Susan’s chest. “I knew they’d be great. But, oh my God, they’re fucking gorgeous.”

A little part of Susan thought that maybe she should be worried about being half-naked in front of her friend, her hands tied behind her back. Should Abigail have cut her clothes away?

As if sensing the strawberry-blonde’s doubts, Abigail glanced up from her roommate’s boobs. “In … and out. In … and out. Going deeper with every breath. In … and out. Everything’s fine. You’re comfortable with me seeing your boobs. You like me seeing your boobs. You want to show them to me.”

Of course she did. She was so calm and relaxed so why would anything worry her? She liked Abigail seeing her boobs. She wanted to show them to her friend. Her hands were tied together and Abigail was telling her that there was nothing to worry about.

“So, if having your hands tied makes you feel calm and relaxed and aroused, being more tied up will make you feel more calm and relaxed and aroused. You want that. Tell me you want that.”

The command penetrated Susan’s empty mind. “I want to be more tied up. It will make me feel more calm and relaxed and aroused.”

“Well, who am I to say no?” her roommate replied gleefully.

Something was looped around Susan’s chest, just under her breasts, around and around and around. Tight, but not uncomfortable. Holding her. And then the same rope went around her upper arms. Pinning them to her body. 

“You’re more tied up now,” Abigail told her. “That makes you more calm and relaxed and aroused. It feels so good.”

It did. She was so turned on, even though she was calm and relaxed. Her nipples were so hard, sharp points. But that didn’t matter. It felt so good. And she didn’t worry about Abigail seeing her naked breasts. She wanted to show them to her friend.

Especially as Abigail added more loops above her breasts, Susan’s orbs gently squeezed between the cords. The pressure felt so good, turning her on. There were more ropes. Or maybe it was just the one rope, so long. Around her upper arms again, her limbs held so tightly to her body that she couldn’t move them at all. 

“There,” Abigail declared. “You should hardly be able to move your arms now. That makes you calm and relaxed and so very, very turned on.” It was true, so true, Susan luxuriating in the feeling. “But we’re not done yet,” her friend added.

Two loops went around her neck, splitting off to frame her assets. And between her breasts, a knot.

It felt so good. So right.

“On my God!” Abigail cried. “You look amazing! Um. Can’t lose it now. Right, right.” The brunette took a deep breath, holding it before letting it out. Like Susan was doing. It felt so good to just breathe. Letting all her worries drift away. No more anxiety. No thoughts.

“Listen to me. So deep, just breathing in … and out. You love being tied up,” Abigail told her. “Being bound. Not being able to move. It’s what you want. It turns you on. It tuns you on so much.”

It did. Delicious heat was spreading from Susan’s centre. Her nipples were so hard, the rope squeezing her breasts.

“You love being tied up so much, you want more.”

Susan did. She was so calm and relaxed and no thoughts in her head but her friend’s words. Being tied up felt so good, why wouldn’t she want more?

“Being tied up more will turn you on even more.”

It would.

“Let’s get you out of those jeans.”

Susan’s slow, in and out, breathing, caught for a moment. Something about having Abigail take her jeans off seemed wrong. 

“Just breathe. So deep now. You’re comfortable being naked in front of me. You like being naked in front of me. Being naked for me makes it easier for you to be more tied up. You want to be more tied up.”

If she’d been more awake, Susan might have questioned the flaws in her friend’s logic. But she didn’t. She was so calm and relaxed and deep and aroused. She let Abigail take off her sneakers. Help her out of her jeans. And her panties.

It was so good being naked in front of her friend. Being naked in front of her friend would help her get more tied up.

“Oh God!” Abigail exclaimed. “You did! You went and did it! Just like I told you to. All that hair gone.”

Susan had. She’d gone to a salon. Had all her pubic hair lasered away. But that had been her idea, hadn’t it? 

“Your pussy’s going to look so good, tied up. So much better like that.”

It didn’t matter whose idea it had been. She was going to be more tied up.

“This is going to turn you on so much. You’ll be melting.”

A quiver shot through Susan, her hips bucking, as Abigail tied a loop of rope around her waist, her friend’s hands holding her, calming her, until she stopped. Then more strands, down and around, either side of her labia, pressing against them. Turning her on so much. She almost came as more strands were added, pressing into her opening, splitting to lie either side of her clit, the pressure on it like a lover’s lips.

“God! You look amazing!” Abigail was breathing so hard, her chest visibly rising and falling. That didn’t bother Susan. She was so calm and relaxed and deep and turned on. “I mean, I knew you would. But… Okay. Okay. We’re not done. You love being tied up. It turns you on so much. The less you can move, the more aroused you get. So…”

Ropes were being wrapped around her thighs. Spaced out, maybe an inch or two apart, loop after loop after loop, gently pressing into her flesh. Starting just below her centre and then down and down and down, almost to her knees. Each loop connected to those above and below it and to its partner on her other leg. Her thighs bound so tightly together. Susan could feel the knots in the rope between her legs, pressing into her thighs, the sensation pushing her to the edge.

“You love being tied up. You need to be tied up. Being tied up is the only way to not feel anxious.”

It was so true. There was so little left of her anxiety. Just a little nub of it, nestling somewhere in her mind. Something she could almost ignore. 

“And being tied up turns you on so much. I’m the one who tied you up. So I must turn you on.”

Something about that didn’t seem right. But she was so turned on. Because she was tied up. And Abigail was the one who had tied her up. So it must be Abigail who turned her on.

“Let’s do some more.”

Abigail disappeared from Susan’s view, kneeling before her. She could feel more loops being placed, around her calves this time, binding them as tightly as her thighs, the loops reaching from just below her knees to her ankles.

Abigail stood up again, her eyes sparkling as they roamed over Susan’s bound form. It was so good to be tied up, arousal coursing through the bound woman.

“Let’s get you on the floor,” the brunette smiled eventually, half holding Susan, half pressing her down until the strawberry-blonde was kneeling on the floor. A length of rope she hadn’t realised was still there was used to bind her wrists firmly to her ankles, her back arching, her framed tits thrust out.

“There,” Abigail smiled down at her. “Doesn’t that feel so good? So right? I mean, there’s so many ways you could be tied up. We’ll try them all, trust me. But it feels so good to be like that. So restrained. So bound. So calm. So turned on. More turned on then you’ve ever been.

That was right. Susan’s nipples were so hard and her centre was so wet, the pressure of the trio of ropes outlining her pussy sending jolts of pleasure through her and the squeeze on her clit electric.

“Can you move at all?”

Susan tried, but all she could move was her head.

“Just wait there and we’ll fix that.”

Susan did just as she was told, kneeling on the floor, so tightly bound that she wasn’t anxious at all. Just calm and relaxed. And so very turned on.

Abigail returned, holding something that looked like a cylinder, black and shiny. The brunette bobbed down in front of Susan, placing the cylinder around Susan’s neck, fixing it in place, clicking it shut. Tight, without being uncomfortable. It felt so good.

“There,” her friend smiled, rocking back on her haunches and looking Susan in the eye. “With that restraining collar you shouldn’t be able to move your head.” 

Susan tried to move her head, but she couldn’t, held in place by the stiff material of the collar, chin up, head fixed in place. She couldn’t move at all, the inability turning her on so hard.

“All you should be able to move now is your mouth. God, you look gorgeous like that. Let’s see what we can do.”

Susan moaned as Abigails fingernails trailed along her labia, her flesh so sensitive with her arousal. She couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything to stop her friend. The idea didn’t even occur to her.

“I tied you up. I’m the one who turns you on, and I’m a girl.” Abigail’s whispered, the words seeping into Susan’s mind. “So girls must turn you on. Only girls.”

She was so turned on, more turned on than she’d ever been. 

“This is the only way you can get turned on. If you’re tied up somehow. But don’t worry. From now on, you’ll always be tied up somehow. Never anxious again. Always turned on. Maybe I’ll send out to work with ropes above and below those tits. Or you’ll go shopping with a rope in your pussy tied to one around your waist. Or maybe when we go for a walk, you’ll wear a coat over your shoulders and I’ll have your wrists tied together behind your back. Or maybe we’ll go to pictures like that and I’ll have anklets on you that lock together when we sit down. So many ways. You’ll never be anxious again, always bound, tied up. By me. Knowing how much I love you.”

Susan moaned at the images, Abigail still playing at her opening.

“You’re going to cum. You’re going to cum so hard.” Abigails fingers had moved on to Susan’s clit, teasing at the hard nub. “And when you do, you’re going to realise that you’re a lesbian bondage slut. Loving being tied up, always wanting it. It’s what you are. We’ve talked about that before.”

Had they? It didn’t matter. Susan was so calm and relaxed, her mind empty as she was so turned on.

“You’re ready now. My lesbian bondage slut.”

Abigail’s fingers pressed down, just that little bit harder, Susan’s crest rocketing through her body, every nerve alight. She was. She was what Abigail had told her. She was a lesbian bondage slut. 

“It’s what I’ve always wanted. A girlfriend that loves me tying them up as much as I love tying her up. And I’ve wanted you for so long. So why not both together? It’s what you want now. And, okay, when we’re out I can’t tie you up that much. But the more tied up you are, the better you feel and the more turned on you are. So when we’re alone I’ll tie you up so much more. You’ll want me to. You’ll beg for it. Maybe not always like this, but we might make it a rule that when it’s just us, your hands are tied. Or maybe a hobble on your ankles. Or maybe both.” Susan wanted it, she wanted it so much. “Maybe I’ll gag you sometimes. Tying up your voice. You want, that don’t you sweetie?”

“Please,” Susan moaned. It would be so good to have her voice restrained.

“And sometimes I’ll tie you to the bed, bound and gagged and spread-eagled and you won’t be able to move an inch. So much rope, not hiding a thing. Or hang you from the ceiling. Just hanging there, ropes covering you, not able to move at all. Nothing to stop me doing whatever I want. And it won’t just be ropes. Maybe a leather harness? Leather bracelets and anklets and I can fix you to a chair. And gagged of course. You’ll be spread and open and not able to move at all. You won’t be able to stop me using a vibrator on you. You’ll love it. It will turn you on so hard.”

Susan’s moan turned guttural, words beyond her.

“Right now, I want you to show me how grateful you are for me showing you what you are. For taking all that anxiety away.”

Somewhere, Abigail had lost her own jeans and panties, was straddling her kneeling friend, Susan’s tongue, the only thing she could still move, eagerly lapping at the woman who’d tied her up so neatly.

“And then. God, yes, right there. We’ve got lots of time to try some more ways to tie you up now. You never wondered why I had those eyebolts put in the ceiling, did you? God, I can’t wait to see you hanging from them. Not able to move as I eat you out. I’ve got so many toys to use on you. And then, we’ll work out what you’ll wear for your parents. Such a surprise for them, you coming out and having a girlfriend. I think we’ll keep the pussy ropes. And a nice simple tit tie. Nothing they’ll notice under one of your sweaters, but you’ll feel it. Don’t worry about it. It will keep you calm. I’ll take care of you. I’ll <i>always</i> take care of you.”

Susan wouldn’t worry about it. Abigail would take care of her. She’d be tied up.

It was all she wanted.

(The end)