Jan's day had started like any other. She unlocked the doors to the quaint bookstore she managed, flipped the "Closed" sign to "Open," and took a deep breath of the musty, ink-soaked air she'd grown to love. The bell above the door chimed a greeting to the early-morning emptiness, and she set about her opening routine—straightening bookshelves and preparing the till.
It was around lunchtime when Jan heard the jingle of the bell again, a sound she'd grown so accustomed to that she barely registered it. But the heavy footsteps that followed had her looking up from the romance novel she was stocking. Two women in ski masks burst through the door, one holding a gun and the other a duffel bag. Her heart racing, Jan's eyes darted to the "Help" button under the counter. Before she could press it, the woman barked, "Don't move!"
The robbers were surprisingly calm, their movements practiced and efficient. One tied Jan's hands behind her back with a zip tie while the other covered her mouth with duct tape. They pushed her into a chair and bound her legs to the chair legs with more zip ties. The plastic bit into her skin, and she felt the stickiness of the tape as it pulled at her hair. They didn't speak much, only muffled instructions to each other as they ransacked the register and the safe. Jan's thoughts swirled, a tornado of fear and confusion.
The woman without the gun returned to Jan, wrapping more rope around her wrists andd elbows, reinforcing the single zip tie, then tightening rooes round her chest and tummy to bind her to the chair.
Once the cash was secured, they moved to the back room, their footsteps echoing off the walls. The gun-wielding woman looked Jan in the eye and said, "We're going to be quick. No funny business." Jan nodded, her heart hammering in her chest. They didn't hurt her, not really, but the fear was a living thing, wriggling in her stomach and making her sweat. She watched as they emptied the store's safe, her eyes following the glint of the barrel as it bobbed up and down with the woman's movements.
The tension grew thick as the minutes dragged on. Jan's thoughts began to drift from fear to something else. The feeling of being restrained was oddly comforting, a stark contrast to the chaos in her head. The chair was hard against her back, the ropes biting into her wrists and ankles, but she felt strangely... safe. The world outside had been muted by the tape over her mouth, and she could feel the rise and fall of her chest more acutely than ever before.
As the minutes stretched into an hour, Jan felt a strange sense of serenity settle over her. The panic had receded, replaced by an unusual calm. She took in the sight of the bookstore, now in disarray, the books scattered across the floor like forgotten treasures. Her eyes fell upon the spine of a book titled "Boundaries of Pleasure," which had been knocked down in the rush. The irony wasn't lost on her.
The two women worked quickly and quietly, their figures appearing in her peripheral vision every so often. Jan couldn't help but wonder who they were under those masks. What led them to this life? Did they ever feel the same thrill she was experiencing now? The curiosity was bizarre, but it kept her mind from the pain and fear.
As the sound of their footsteps grew distant, she felt a peculiar warmth spread through her body, a sensation she hadn't felt since her last relationship. The ropes and tape weren't just holding her captive; they were creating a cocoon of sorts, one that she didn't want to escape from. The tightness around her chest made her breasts feel heavy and sensitive, and she found herself inadvertently arching her back to push against the chair.
The woman with the gun approached Jan, her eyes cold but her movements gentle as she tied a scarf blindfold over Jan's eyes. "Don't worry," she murmured, her voice softer than Jan had expected, "we're almost done." She then turned the "Open" sign to "Closed," shutting Jan off from the outside world. The sudden darkness was a strange comfort, a silent agreement that she didn't have to hide her newfound feelings.
With the blindfold in place, Jan's other senses heightened. She could hear the rustling of pages as the robbers shuffled through the books, looking for anything of value. The scent of leather and aged paper grew stronger, wrapping around her like a warm blanket. The ropes against her skin seemed to pulse with the beat of her heart, each throb sending a thrill through her body. The chair was unyielding beneath her, and she couldn't help but wiggle, testing her boundaries, feeling the tension of her restraints. She could feel her skirt ride up her thighs as she wriggled and wondered if the robbers got a sight of her stocking tops or panties.
The sound of the door locking echoed through the bookstore, and Jan knew she was alone. The silence was deafening, but it was a relief from the constant chatter in her mind. Her thoughts drifted to the odd comfort she found in being bound. It was as if the ropes had become a part of her, an extension of her desire to feel something other than the mundane. The fear had morphed into something more primal, a craving she hadn't known existed.
Her breath grew heavier as she shifted in the chair, her body responding in a way she'd never anticipated. The ropes around her chest tightened with each inhale, pushing her breasts together. Her nipples grew hard, rubbing against the fabric of her bra, and she couldn't help but moan into the gag. The sound was muffled but satisfying, like a secret she didn't have to keep from herself.
Jan squirmed, trying to press her legs together, but the chair was too wide. The ache between her thighs grew more insistent, and she wished she could just slip her hand under her skirt, find some relief. But she was bound, trapped in this oddly erotic dance with the very thing that was supposed to terrify her. She tested the limits of her restraints, pulling at the ropes and tugging against the chair. It was a futile effort, but the struggle sent waves of excitement through her, each tug and pull a silent plea for more.
Her breath grew shallower as the heat pooled in her core. She could feel the dampness growing, the fabric of her panties sticking to her skin. Her cheeks flushed, not just from the exertion but from the sheer embarrassment of her body's betrayal. She was supposed to be scared, not... not this. The ropes that had been a symbol of her captivity now felt like a lover's embrace, teasing and taunting her. She arched her back, pushing her breasts up, the tightness of her blouse adding to the delicious discomfort.
With a frustrated whine, Jan tried to bring her legs together, but the zipties just bit into her legs, tearing her nylon stockings, leaving her in a state of torment. The unforgiving plastic that bound her ankles to the chair legs were a constant reminder of her inability to satiate the need that was building within her. Each attempt to close her thighs sent a jolt of pain through her wrists and elbows, and she felt the ropes bite deeper into her skin. Her breath hitched, the pain mixing with the pleasure, creating a symphony of sensations that she'd never experienced before.
Her mind raced, conjuring images of the robbers returning and finding her in this state of arousal. Would they laugh? Would they be disgusted? Or would they understand? The thought of them seeing her like this was both terrifying and thrilling, and she found herself straining against her bonds even more, as if willing them to come back and witness her secret.
Her fingers flexed, desperate to feel the heat that was building between her legs. She wished she could touch herself, to ease the ache that was growing more intense by the second. The struggle was futile, but it only added to her frustration. Each movement sent a fresh wave of sensation through her body, the ropes digging in, the chair holding firm. Her legs quivered, and she bit down on the gag, the taste of rubber and fear mingling in her mouth.
The room was a cocoon of darkness and quiet, the only sounds her own muffled grunts and the occasional creak of the chair. The ropes around her chest tightened with each breath she took, and she found herself taking shorter, faster breaths, her breasts rising and falling with the effort. The pressure was exquisite, and she couldn't help but arch her back, pushing her breasts out even more. The chair groaned in protest, the sound sending a thrill through her body.
Her fingers itched, desperate to explore the wetness she knew was waiting for her. The gag in her mouth was a constant reminder of her situation, but she didn't care. The need was too strong. Jan tried to twist her hips, to somehow get her thighs to meet, but the chair was too wide. Her movements grew more frantic, the ropes cutting into her skin. The pain was a sweet agony, a symphony playing in harmony with the ache between her legs.
In her mind, Jan saw the robbers returning, their eyes widening at the sight of her. Would they be curious? Would they be disgusted? Or would they see the pleasure she was fighting against and decide to play along? The thought of their gloved hands touching her, feeling the heat and wetness she couldn't hide, was almost too much to bear. It was a twisted fantasy, born from fear and adrenaline.
But she wasn't just enjoying the feeling; she was craving it. Her body was betraying her, but she didn't want it to stop. Jan's breath grew quicker, her chest rising and falling as she imagined the robbers approaching her, their eyes assessing her predicament. Would they take advantage? The idea was wrong, it was dangerous, but it was all she could think about. The fear had become a thrill, a heady mix of terror and excitement that had her heart racing in her chest.
As the minutes turned into hours, Jan's struggle against the ropes grew more intense, her body begging for release. The pain was a strange companion, a reminder that she was alive, that she was feeling something other than the dull ache of loneliness that had become so familiar. Each tug and pull against the chair sent a jolt of sensation through her, her breasts aching and her panties soaked with desire.
The thought of the robbers returning grew more vivid with every passing moment. What would they do if they found her like this? Would they be cruel, or would they be kind? Jan didn't know which she wanted more—to be set free from her bonds, or to be kept captive in this delicious torment. Her imagination took over, conjuring scenarios where they would untie her, but only to bind her in new, more intricate ways. Ways that would leave her even more exposed, more vulnerable.
The hours dragged on, and Jan's body grew stiff from her struggles. Her wrists were raw from the constant tugging, and her ankles were sore from the friction of the zipties against the chair legs. Yet she couldn't stop, the need for release was too great. She had never felt so alive, so aware of every inch of her skin. The chair was a prison and a lover, holding her tight, keeping her from the sweet relief she craved.
As the hours dragged on , Jan felt a sense of panic rising in her chest. What if they didn't come back? What if she was left here all night, bound and helpless? The thought of being discovered like this was almost too much to handle. Her partner, Rachel, would worry when she didn't come home. Rachel would raise the alarm, and the police would come looking for her. The image of being found like this, by people she knew, was a mix of humiliation and a strange excitement that she couldn't quite place.
The minutes turned into hours, and Jan's struggles grew weaker, her body screaming for release. The pain in her wrists and ankles had become a dull throb, the constant reminder of her predicament. The bookstore was eerily quiet, save for the occasional car passing by outside, the hum of the fridge in the back room, and the rhythmic tick of the clock above the counter. The darkness was her companion, a silent witness to her forbidden desires.
As the hands of the clock reached 9 pm, Jan heard the door rattling. Her heart leaped in her chest, hope and fear mingling. Had Rachel had raised the alarm? Were the robbers returning to kidnap her? Jan's thoughts raced. Would they find her? Would they judge her? The rattling and banging grew louder, the sound of rescue approaching. The door burst open, and two female police comstables rushed in. They took in the scene, their eyes wide with shock and concern. Jan felt a strange sense of relief and embarrassment wash over her as they saw her, bound and gagged in the chair.
The officers moved quickly, one cutting the ropes around her chest with a knife while the other worked on her wrists and ankles. Jan winced as the ropes fell away, feeling the blood rush back into her numb limbs. She tried to stand, but her legs gave way, and she stumbled. The officers caught her, one holding her firmly under her arm as she tried to regain her balance. They spoke to her calmly, their voices a gentle contrast to the chaos that had been her world for the past eight hours.
"It's okay, Jan, you're safe now," one of them said, her voice kind and professional. Rachel had sent help, and Jan felt a rush of gratitude for her partner's concern. Rachel had been worried enough to call the police, and here she was, being untied by the very people she'd hoped would never find her like this. The embarrassment was overwhelming, but the relief at being free was stronger.
As the last of the ropes fell away, Jan's legs wobbled. She hadn't realized how much she'd been relying on the chair to hold her up. The policewoman with the knife helped her to her feet, her grip firm and reassuring. Jan's eyes met hers, and she could see the questions there, the concern. She knew she must look a mess—her skirt was askew, her blouse wrinkled and torn, stockings shredded, and her panties... she didn't even want to think about her panties.
Website Migration Update
I moved the website to a new host, which I think will be more tolerant of the content this website hosts. Nevertheless, I do want to take a moment to remind everyone that the stories and content posted here MUST follow website rules, as it it not only my policy, but it is the policy of the hosts that permit our website to run on their servers. We WILL continue to enforce the rules, especially critical rules that, if broken, put this sites livelihood in jeapordy.
Robbery becomes………(FF/F)
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TightsBound
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 538
- Joined: 7 years ago
- Location: CT, USA
Another wonderful story as usual! You captured the desire and frustration perfectly. And had me feeling like (and wishing) I was the one tied to that chair.
To the Point! And I agree!TightsBound wrote: 1 month ago Another wonderful story as usual! You captured the desire and frustration perfectly. And had me feeling like (and wishing) I was the one tied to that chair.
Love it!
You're not alone there.
Great story. I think Jan will hire some burglars regulary from now on...
Do you know if there are burglars for hire.
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superduperwaveydavey
- Forum Contributer
- Posts: 72
- Joined: 5 years ago
- Location: UK
Wow! Great story and fantastic writing.
Well, you can hire nearly everything today... But another thing that interests me is what the regular customers will do with the tied and horny saleswoman now that the store is open. Is there a chance for part 2?
She’s been rescued and released now. If you wish to write an alternative ending, where I am found by a customer please do. But I think I am currently tied up by Susan in Susan’s crazy arrest, as well as running my own Adult toy store in my next story.johopp wrote: 1 month agoWell, you can hire nearly everything today... But another thing that interests me is what the regular customers will do with the tied and horny saleswoman now that the store is open. Is there a chance for part 2?
That's a great story, thank you.
Not sure I've ever written/used zip ties in combination with rope, an interesting and effective idea
Also, liked how the vast majority of your story was in the realms of daydream and fantasy, having been abandoned and now left to run around inside her own head.
Not sure I've ever written/used zip ties in combination with rope, an interesting and effective idea
Also, liked how the vast majority of your story was in the realms of daydream and fantasy, having been abandoned and now left to run around inside her own head.