Cabin_getaway on Knotty Biscotti

My Partner in Crime, My Midnight Companion

Fri, 17 Apr 2026 00:00:00 +0000

The weekend had started out perfectly. Kelley had taken off work early and driven to the family cabin on Friday afternoon to set up. She’d been planning this, well, all year, really, and she wasn’t going to leave anything to chance.

The cabin was deep in Les Laurentides, several hours north of Montréal. The real name of the area was Val des Lumières but among the Hayes family, it was simply “up Val”. She’d stopped in Sainte-Agathe-des-Monts for last-minute supplies—charcuterie supplies, an artichoke dip and a boule that smelled like heaven, and wine, so very much wine.

“To my little sister!” Kelley announced, raising her glass. “My new literary agent!”

“Kel!” Kayleigh giggled, clinking glasses then taking a rather large drink of the grenache-heavy rosé. “It’s April, at least wait until I know if I graduated!”

Kelley giggled too, finishing her wine, collecting Kayleigh’s glass and heading back to the kitchen to refill both from the second cardboard box of the evening. “No way! I hate my agent, if I’m gonna get screwed by anyone—” she cut herself off and glanced nervously at Kayleigh.

Kelley’s little sister blushed, then beamed. “Get over here, Bossy Boots!”

Arching an eyebrow, Kelley returned to the living room with the two full glasses of wine. She sat down carefully and snuggled up to her sister before the wood stove. “I’m bossy?” she teased as she brought her lips close.

“You used to be,” Kayleigh replied softly, then kissed her sister full on the lips while one hand cupped Kelley’s behind. Before long the wine was forgotten, clothing was discarded and the sisters connected in their own, unique way.

The clock on the nightstand glowed 2:22 AM, casting a faint red hue over the bedroom Kelley and Kayleigh were sharing this weekend. Kelley dozed when they first came to bed, but the heat refused to die down. The moment Kayleigh lay down on the decadent mattress, she was asleep. But Kelley, she still needed her sister. She had planned one more treat but the wine, the long drive, and weeks of Kayleigh wrapping up assignments and finishing exams had gotten the better of little Kaybear.

Kayleigh snored softly on her side of the bed, her lithe body barely covered by a thin tank top and panties—she had kicked the duvet off within minutes. Kelley watched her, heart pounding, the strap-on she’d bought months ago—the final surprise, hidden in a drawer—wouldn’t leave her thoughts. The dildo was a monstrous thing, 8 inches long with a tapered tip, a bulbous, knotted centre, then a ribbed and veiny shaft back to the moulded testicular base. Jean-Claw, it was called, a hand-sculpted dildo mounted in a hand-tooled leather harness.

Get over here, Bossy Boots!

Kelley slipped out of bed. “Bossy.”

Kelley retrieved the silk ropes from under the mattress, the simple sight of them fuelling her arousal. The ropes were a regular part of their games but never like this. She worked quickly, securing both of Kayleigh’s ankles to the bed before the younger sister even stirred.

“What—” Kayleigh’s groggy question died as Kelley looped the rope around her wrists, tying them to the headboard with practised knots. Kayleigh squirmed, her small breasts heaving under the tank top, nipples poking up beneath the fabric.

“Shh-shh-shh, Kaybear,” Kelley murmured, her voice the familiar warning tone from childhood: Kayleigh would catch Crinklebone Fever if she didn’t leave Kelley and her friends alone during sleepovers. Kayleigh relaxed, just a little, until her big sister held up a whiffle-ball-gag. As she opened her mouth to speak, Kelley forced it between Kayleigh’s lips and fastened it behind her head. Kayleigh’s eyes widened, the bright red gag distorted her words to wet burbling.

Kelley’s hands explored, yanking Kayleigh’s tank top up to expose her modest tits, pinching the ruddy pink nipples. Kayleigh bucked her hips. Kelley watched her eyes and told herself what she saw there. She hooked her fingers into Kayleigh’s panties, tearing the silly lace things away, exposing the red whorls of dense pubic hair.

“You’ve always been mine,” Kelley growled, moving back and off the bed, giving Kayleigh a clear look at the strange, eldritch phallus her sister wore. Kelley knelt on the bed between her sister’s open thighs, grinning. “You always knew that, didn’t you, Kaybear?” She tightened the restraints on Kayleigh’s ankles, forcing her thighs apart until her wonderful sister squeaked in protest and her pussy lips parted, revealing glistening pink inner folds.

Kayleigh’s muffled cries filled the room as Kelley rubbed the Wendigo cock against her entrance, the knobbly tip teasing Kayleigh’s clit before pressing in. The head breached slowly at first, Kayleigh’s breath coming in sharp, shallow pulls as her body arched and the ropes creaked against her struggles. Kelley pushed deeper, and when the knot finally bore through Kayleigh’s entrance, the younger woman whimpered through her gag.

“Fuck, Kaybear, I can barely get inside,” Kelley panted, her hips drew back then snapped forward, beginning a rhythm. She pounded into her sister, the strap-on’s girth splitting Kayleigh open, juices squirting out with each thrust. Her gagged moans turned to sobs of pleasure as Kelley drove the knot in, revelling in the minute resistance each time she pulled it back out, like she might turn her sister inside-out.

Kelley’s hands mauled Kayleigh’s tits, twisting the nipples as she fucked harder, the bed slamming against the wall. “You’re so fucking pretty,” Kelley gasped. “I love your titties so much!” Sweat dripped onto Kayleigh’s heaving chest. She reached down, rubbing Kayleigh’s swollen clit in tight, rough circles. Kayleigh’s body convulsed, her bound limbs straining, and Kelley knew. She watched her sister come apart, girl-cum gushing, soaking the sheets.

Kelley didn’t stop. She flipped Kayleigh onto her stomach. The ropes didn’t allow enough slack, so Kelley’s little sister was cross-armed and cross-legged, face-down. As Kayleigh mewled in protest, Kelley re-entered her from behind. The new angle drove the strap-on deeper, as Kelley slapped her sister’s firm ass-cheeks red. “Take it all, Kaybear,” she hissed, grinding the base against her own clit for friction. Kayleigh’s face pressed into the pillow, drool soaking it, and Kelley recognised the signs. She drove harder.

Hours blurred into a haze of relentless fucking. By dawn, Kayleigh lay spent, body marked with rope burns and handprints, pussy and ass both raw with loving abuse. Kelley untied her gently, removing the gag to kiss her swollen lips. “I couldn’t wait anymore,” she whispered.

Kayleigh, voice hoarse, pulled her close. “I’d stopped hoping for this.”

Knotty

Autumn Fireside

Fri, 03 Oct 2025 00:00:00 +0000

“Thank God! I was sure you’d gotten us lost,” Laurence declared as the car crept around a final bend in what she was certain was nothing more than a fire road.

Sitting behind the wheel, Ashley responded, still glum, “I told you it was out of the way when you invited yourself. It was supposed to be a weekend—”

“Nope!” Laurence’s voice was tinkling laughter, “Not talking about him! He’s done and we’re all better for it!” She risked a light, comforting, touch on Ashley’s shoulder. “C’mon, what kind of bestie would I be if I let you lose your deposit? Look at it!”

Nearly three hours north of Montréal, the last half hour on increasingly narrow roads, the women were deep in Val des Lumières. The breathtaking beauty couldn’t quite overcome Laurence’s anxiety over the isolation. No cell coverage; just them and the bears. How did he ever convince Ash to book this place? she wondered. Laurence loved Ashley dearly, but she couldn’t go five minutes without checking her planner or her calendar. Even just the two of them were on Laurence’s couch, giggling at bad rom-coms.

The sight of the cabin, however, blew Laurence’s concerns away like autumn leaves. It was laughable to call it a cabin, “chalet” wasn’t even adequate. It was magnificent.

“Printing directions was a good idea?” Ashley’s tone was dry, slightly sharp.

Laurence knew her too well to be upset, “I would’ve got us lost.”

Apologies for the firewood. Dry wood after dinner. Rémi The note read. Indeed, the only wood they had for the fireplace was soaked, the woodshed’s roof had failed, but Laurence wasn’t going to let that sour the mood.

“Come on! It’s fine, here, sit, I’ll make dinner.” She practically shoved Ashley toward the overstuffed sofa, large enough for five, and poured them each a second glass of wine.

“Okay.” Ashley had been miserly with her words since unpacking the car. Laurence knew Ashley’s thoughts were and she was determined to rescue her friend from them. They were going to have fun, is was her sacred duty!

The old Ashley, Laurence’s friend so long only their parents remembered their first meeting, began to reappear by degrees. While Laurence began the pasta and made a garlic, cream sauce and related anecdote after anecdote about the café regulars, Ashley gazed out the windows, as darkness swallowed wilderness, sipping her wine with the occasional ‘mmm’. As Laurence prepared a salad that was mostly cucumbers, feta and croutons and shared a story of the café owner’s cat, Claudette, stealing lox from an inattentive patron, Ashley laughed softly. By the time Laurence set the table Ashley was laughing along, recounting the chaos in the undergrad lounge when a pigeon got inside the previous weekend.

Laurence beamed; her dearest friend had returned, if only for the moment, from sadness over a man who never deserved her. The moment was perfect and she wanted it to last forever.

The sky was indigo as they sat down to dinner when a loud knock on the door gave both women a start. While the cabin had been filled with cheerful banter and giggles, they had gotten used to the early autumn forest outside. A beat then Laurence giggled, “Rémi?” The look of relief on Ashley’s face reassured her. Laurence jumped up, “Let me!”

Laurence padded to the door in sock feet and flung it wide, exuding more confidence than she felt. On the step stood a tall man with a thick, neatly trimmed beard, a red-and-black checked jacket and an armload of split logs. He smiled amiably. “Good evening. I am Rémi, the owner?” His English had that perfect Northern Québec roundness to the words. Her cheeks flushed and she nodded, aware of Ashley’s presence behind her.

“I am here with the wood,” Rémi continued, unnecessarily. “I will put it by the fireplace, if you like?”

Both women, stepping back as one, responded eagerly, “Please!”

Rémi filled the woodbox with practised efficiency, then placed the remainder of his load in the firebox, positioning them easy confidence. “Shall I light?” he asked and again both women confirmed as one. Ashley’s fingers had found Laurence’s hand as he worked, giving it an excited squeeze.

Warmth filled the room from the floor up as Rémi turned to the friends, “There. You are set for the weekend?”

“I made too much food!” Laurence blurted and Ashley followed as if rehearsed, “Want to join us?”

Rémi looked around, at the table, the kitchen, the two friends. “I am not …”

“Oh, please stay?” Laurence offered her most welcoming smile.

“You are certain?”

“You bet!” Ashley announced, slipping from behind Laurence and running to the kitchen on bare feet. “Sit! I’ll bring your plate and glass!”

They ate slowly, chatted long, and laughed often. Rémi apologised for the woodshed, shared a story about repairing his dock at the nearby lake, and asked about their lives in Montréal. It was friendly, easy and before long they moved to the couch. Ashley sat in the middle, Laurence tucked in next to her, her knee pressed gently Ashley’s thigh, while Rémi sat opposite.

The fire crackled. Evening became night.

The conversation continued, quieter, growing more intimate and Laurence’s hand found Ashley’s again.

“This is okay?” Rémi murmured, and Ashley realised he’d leaned just a bit closer. The courtesy of it flooded her with warmth.

“It’s okay.”

Their kiss was gentle and uncomplicated and Ashley felt lightheaded at the rightness. Laurence’s breath caught beside her. When they parted, Ashley turned to her best friend. This time Ashley asked, without words. Laurence’s wide-eyed yes was a signal fire.

The women kissed softly, then deeper. Ashley made a sound she didn’t try to hide. Laurence’s palm found the small of her back. Rémi’s hand rested on Ashley’s knee, patient.

“I didn’t know if…” Laurence began, nervously.

“I did,” Ashley said. The simplest truth she’d told herself, possibly, in her life.

Clothes loosened. Sweaters over heads. Buttons opening. The room filled with heat and breath. Rémi kissed Ashley’s throat, to her jaw, to her ear. Laurence’s mouth found Ashley’s collarbone, then lower, kissing the curve of one breast, tongue circling a nipple until Ashley whimpered.

“Good?”

“So good.”

“Like this?”

“Don’t stop.”

Laurence slid to the rug, eyes flicking up for permission. Ashley nodded, hips tilting. Laurence’s mouth was cautious, then confident, her tongue broad and slow, then focused. Rémi kissed Ashley, one hand supporting her breasts while the other sought lower. He stroked the back of Laurence’s head as she slid her tongue fully inside her friend and Ashley gasped into Rémi’s mouth. Laurence moaned in response, it thrummed to Ashley’s core.

“Don’t stop,” Ashley groaned, and Laurence didn’t. She worked in slow circles, then firm flicks, a rhythm that made Ashley’s breath stutter and catch. Rémi watched her face and played with her breasts, attending her nipples as Laurence attended her clit. Ashley came hard, thighs clenching, a broken yes spilling out of her.

They laughed softly at the force of it, kissing her through the aftershocks. Laurence climbed back up, cheeks flushed, mouth glistening. Ashley pulled her in and kissed her deep, tasting herself, heart pounding. Rémi had moved aside as the friends, now lovers, kissed. He knelt on the floor before Ashley’s hips and looked to both. “All right if I…?”

Laurence looked at Ashley, her meaning clear. “Please,” said Ashley as Laurent held Ashley’s hand, staring deep into her best friend’s eyes.

Rémi rolled on a condom but as he did both women seemed to come to a wordless agreement and by the time he was ready they were both pushing him gently onto his back on the couch. Ashley straddled him. Laurence wrapped her fingers around his shaft, guiding him in to her dearest friend. He lay back, gazing adoringly up at Ashley and letting her set the pace. Laurent moved behind and with one hand cupped Ashley’s breast, the other found her clit. Slick and hard and so very sensitive, Laurent stroked her as Ashley rode Rémi, the three of them a symphony of pleasure, Ashley their perfectly instrument.

Ashley rocked, chasing Laurent, chasing Rémi, breath ragged. Laurence kissed the hinge of Ashley’s jaw and whispered, “Look at me.” Ashley turned her head and the look there—tender, hungry, astonished—nearly pushed Laurence to her own peak. The warm, wet sounds of lovemaking filled the cabin. Gasps and sighs and moans and murmured words meant for no one at all. When Ashley climaxed again, it was with Rémi; her cries of joy swallowed by Laurent.

They spilled onto the floor, joyful and ruined. Rémi eased out and tied off the condom. Laurence pressed a glass of water to Ashley’s lips. The fire snapped, sparks danced up. On the rug they caught their breath, a tangle of sweaty, sated bodies.

Morning came languid, luxurious. Coffee, woodsmoke, sore legs, soft smiles. Ashley didn’t open her planner. She didn’t reach for her phone. The three enjoyed one another’s quiet company in the crisp morning light.

“I must to home,” Rémi said, after the breakfast dishes were done and put away. “I will return tonight? To see how it goes? If you like?” Offer? Request?

Ashley met Laurence’s eyes. The shy, bright yes there again. “Mmm,” Ashley said. “We’d like that.”

Laurence squeezed her hand. “We really would.”

Later, when Rémi’s knock sounded again, Ashley went to the door in nothing but socks and a sweater. Opening it felt less like a decision and more like continuing a thing already begun. The weekend bent into a shape that made sense: warmth, curiosity. A new chapter.

Knotty