Untying the Knot: Ally's Story
Copyright© 2026 by FyreFoss88
Chapter 20: Crowded
Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 20: Crowded - A promiscuous young woman is committed to a controversial sex addiction clinic where she must contend with both the staff and patients (or should that be ‘inmates’?). Untying the Knot is an examination of erotica, submission, and the terrible things people do to each other when seeking meaning in their lives and in their actions; both at a personal and institutional level.
Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Mult Blackmail Coercion Consensual NonConsensual Reluctant Slavery Lesbian BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction Cheating Cuckold Sharing BDSM DomSub MaleDom FemaleDom Humiliation Light Bond Rough Sadistic Spanking Torture Gang Bang Group Sex Anal Sex Analingus Cream Pie Double Penetration Enema Exhibitionism Fisting Flatulence Massage Masturbation Oral Sex Petting Sex Toys Spitting Squirting Voyeurism Water Sports Public Sex Cat-Fighting Revenge Violence
Think about it all day I did. I was the right kind of sore that lingered but didn’t irritate or cause me any pain.
For the morning session, I sat a class of “de-escalation”. Linda was leading the class, as this week’s newbie group - smaller than mine with only three new patients - were in the library. We were shown slides on how to not give in to triggers, pressure from others, drugs, and to be less impulsive when making horny decisions. If anything, Linda was the perfect spokeswoman for techniques to stop flirting leading to foreplay. She made sex sound like such a boring and binary act.
It wasn’t just the ache in my ass that distracted me, though. Cara, if that was her name, sat at her desk with a black eye. It had not escaped Linda’s attention either, and she kept looking at the poor girl. Cara with the ponytail had said to Linda that she had slipped coming down from her bunk. My working theory was that Lena was reasserting her grip on those who thought her cast to the wind.
I didn’t know whether Cara was the one who had given Trix the moisturizer and lube from under Lena’s pillow. She had seemed fiercely loyal to Lena in my eyes, especially when she threatened me after the tennis match.
I wondered if any more of Lena’s dykes would show up bruised or battered. I felt like that may be too obvious, even for a butch dyke bitch like Lena. Lena somehow kept the staff on-side whilst keeping a harem of loyal women.
My mind wandered and it dawned on me that Trix might try to take others too. How would I feel about that? I didn’t really know. I wouldn’t have given a shit if Garth had fucked someone else. I wouldn’t have given a shit if anyone I’d ever been with fucked someone else. Trix, though. Why did this feel different? She had never shown any indication she might want to take other women or men alongside me, but here I was worrying about it like an idiot. The knot was back.
Lunch was turkey sandwiches and cans of lemonade. Trix was nowhere to be seen. I ate alone as my class had dispersed.
Lena eyed me constantly from over the other side of the hall. I couldn’t tell if she wanted to fuck me or beat the shit out of me. Probably those two things would overlap like a Venn diagram and I’d be sat, drooling and dripping from my cunt, bang in the center of it.
I had been looking forward to the afternoon as it was time for my next session with Emma. A faceless warden tapped me on the shoulder and off we went down the corridor in silence.
When he pushed open the door to Emma’s office, my heart sank and my stomach dropped. Emma was sat at her desk, writing in her notebook, but looking at some of the art hanging from her wall, was the fucking Overseer.
Hey, Ally, it’s good to see you, Emma beamed, noticing my arrival.
Hi, Emma, was all I could manage.
The Overseer turned.
Yes, very good to see you again, Ally, he said smugly, I see that you have been keeping your nose clean since our little talk.
A talk, I thought, that’s what we are calling it now?
I sat without waiting for invitation, and folded my arms.
The Overseer has been randomly selecting sessions to attend, Emma explained, in order to make sure that my therapy and coaching is in line with the rest of the treatment plan here at Renew.
Emma did not look happy with this.
Do you consent to the Overseer’s presence? The usual rules regarding patient confidentiality are still wholly in place, Emma said.
Oh yes, unfortunately they won’t allow us to record the conversations in this room, the Overseer said, that would certainly make my life a lot easier, but alas.
I shot the man a look of disgust.
I consent, I said.
I considered asking to leave, but I didn’t want to end up back on the Overseer’s radar. I might even still be on it - how “random” really was this drop-in? But if Emma thought I was going to open up whilst this ghoul was in the room, she would have another thing coming. At least I would get to hear her voice.
We talked about the classes of the previous two mornings, but my answers were curt.
You refused your visitor, Emma said.
I did, I said.
Why didn’t you want to see your partner? She asked.
She seemed genuinely interested, but the Overseer hanging over me like a hawk made me bite my tongue.
I’ve been working on the knot, like you said, I told her, and I didn’t want any external pressure coming in and ruining that.
Then you are making some progress? She asked.
The Overseer held up a withered hand.
What is this knot you speak of?
I went to speak but Emma cut me off.
It’s like an analogy for recurring anxiety, Emma declared, and how that can manifest sometimes as a physical symptom, like a weight, or a knot, inside the chest.
He nodded.
Very good, he said, I wouldn’t have taken you for an anxious person, Ally. I have seen that you rise to challenges quite without question.
Was he talking about the blowjob? Was this prick fucking with me in my own therapy session?
Anxiety manifests in several forms, I said dryly.
That it does, reiterated Emma, and often it is not visible and observable. Many people go about in all sorts of anxious states yet can show no external signs of suffering.
Is she on medication? The Overseer asked.
I believe that medication is not needed in this case, Emma stated, and I would always recommend analysis of the root cause of a person’s anxiety. Often with the addressing of external factors and the learning of coping mechanisms, many people can manage their anxiety without the need to be medicated.
And if her anxiety cannot be cured?
Emma frowned.
It doesn’t work like that, and as you know, I am not licensed to prescribe medication.
Because you’re a life coach, he said.
Yes, I am a life coach, Emma parroted.
And not a therapist, he said.
And not a therapist, she echoed.
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