Flash_fiction on Knotty Biscotti

I Got You

Fri, 20 Mar 2026 00:00:00 +0000

The dilapidated tenement shuddered as a spinner passed overhead with that uncanny blend of whine and growl Imani loathed. “How ugly d’you want this scar to be?” A disapproving tch came from the far corner, but Imani had neither time nor energy to spare.

“W-what?” Imani’s patient gasped, confused and frightened.

“Sit still,” Imani hissed as she resumed stitching, “or it’s gonna be really ugly.”

“B-but m-my—” Too afraid to put word to thoughts.

“You gonna do what I say?”

“Y–yes, Doc Shen.”

Imani’s chocolate-brown eyes flicked up to meet her patient, angry. She waited until the patient’s eyes sank. “You’re both doing great.”

Imani drew a deep breath, filling her lungs with untold pollutants, surely shortening her life, but still glad to be outside. She still wore her “work clothes,” wet with sweat, blood, and some amniotic fluid, but the constant wind that hugged the Sepulveda Sea Wall, and the ocean tang easily overwhelmed all of that. She fumbled a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket—always kept in the plastic—shook one out and brought it to her lips.

The lighter wouldn’t cooperate.

She glared and flicked at it, turning her body one way, then another, trying to shelter the lighter, but most attempts didn’t even produce a spark. “Fuck,” she cursed softly as the lighter slipped from her fingers and bounced along the broken sidewalk.

“I got you.” The voice from the corner. A strong, steady, perfectly vertical blue-orange flame appeared to Imani’s right.

“Thanks,” she said, after her third lungful of opt-in pollutants. “How are they?”

Jude took up position beside Imani, back against the building that, for now, was their medical clinic, looking up at the impossible structure that kept the Pacific from washing all of Los Angeles away for good. “Happy family.” Jude turned her head just enough to study Imani’s profile in the half-light. “Thanks to you.”

Taking another deep breath—ambient pollutants only, this time—Imani allowed herself a ghost of a smile. She tried to return the cigarette to her lips, but found her hand was less cooperative than her lighter had been, and her little indulgence slipped away. “Fuck,” she repeated, watching it come to rest in a puddle, hissing angrily. “How many more?”

“Bad news, Doc. None. You might have to try sleeping for once.” Jude’s teasing was the last thing Imani remembered before the waking world vanished.

The debate had been surprisingly short. Last night’s patients were always going to be the last; an LAPD contact warned the raid was coming. By the time Imani woke to the smell of fresh coffee barely overpowering disinfectant, Dewitt and Chopra were loading the van with equipment. Jude appeared and, with a few careful words, Imani agreed. She’d slept nine hours and was still bone-tired.

She’d earned a break. A short one.

She was asleep in the rusted-out sedan’s passenger seat before Jude pulled away from the curb.

“We can’t afford this,” Imani declared, again, looking around the room. They’d ridden to the 39th floor, then entered the sort of amber-lit, smooth-carpeted hallway Imani had only seen in old vids.

“I told you,” Jude insisted. “I did a job—this is payment.” She secured the retinal-lock on the door, then dropped both duffels they’d brought. She shrugged out of her oversized trench coat and let it fall to the floor. “How about a shower?”

Imani turned so slowly Jude nearly laughed at the sight. “Shower?” she asked.

Jude smiled, inverting her shirt as she pulled it over her head. Her full, pale breasts bounced and wobbled as they were freed. “Yeah, a real one. We can stay in as long as we want.”

The tiny room, just big enough for a sink, a toilet and the promised shower, had filled with steam moments after Jude had turned on the water. She had finished undressing before entering, and now found Imani standing, touching her cheeks in wonder. Jude smiled and placed her hands on Imani’s hips. “You can’t shower like this, Doc.”

Jude’s fingers were efficient, confident, as she unbuttoned Imani’s cream-coloured shirt. She tugged it free of Imani’s threadbare jeans, then set it down carefully on the sink, brushing her bare breasts against Imani’s skin. The jeans followed, then Imani’s bra and finally her panties.

Imani allowed herself to be led into the shower. She marvelled at the water bouncing off her skin, the patterns it made on Jude’s skin as it ran down her back. She caressed Jude’s hip, giving it a squeeze. Imani loved the contrast, her mahogany skin against Jude’s almost milk-pale colouring. She was sliding her fingers up Jude’s belly when the other woman stopped her.

“Not right now, ‘mani.” Simply turning around in the shower meant Jude’s arm, then her hip, then her breasts pressed against Imani’s, but then Jude was turning Imani around, to face away. “Taking care of you first.” She filled her palms with a thick cleansing cream, then brought both arms around Imani’s body, pressing her hips against Imani’s ass while her breasts squished wonderfully against Imani’s shoulder blades.

Imani shivered at the first touch of the cream; it was much colder than the water or her skin, but then Jude’s hands were exploring. Both found Imani’s breasts and began working them in exactly the way she loved best. She moaned softly as her nipples, the colour of dark chocolate, stiffened beneath Jude’s palms. She followed with a lower, louder moan at Jude’s lips against her neck. “Jude…”

“Shhh,” Jude replied, then went back to kissing Imani’s neck, then gave her a gentle bite. She kept one hand on Imani’s breast, the contact firm but almost frictionless with the cream, but the other roamed down. She giggled at the way Imani stiffened and squirmed when her fingers found the stubble on Imani’s mound. Maybe a week since she’d shaved last, Jude guessed, the perfect growth. She loved the way it felt as she moved over, then further down.

Imani widened her stance—balance, and invitation. When Jude’s fingers spread her open, she moaned for a third time, this time long and pleading. Jude obliged. Two fingers pinched Imani’s clit, then Jude’s hand started pumping. Her fingers held Imani’s clit from both sides, but the co-mingled cream and Imani’s juices meant Jude’s fingers were sliding over the sides of Imani’s bud as much as they were pulling it. Imani tried to grab some part of Jude, reaching around behind her, but as Jude worked harder against Imani’s clit and her nipple, she found herself needing both hands to support herself against the shower wall.

Jude’s own breathing was growing ragged as she slid her hand down and curled her middle finger inside Imani’s pussy. The whimper this drew from Imani was almost enough to give Jude her own orgasm, she barely managed to regain her focus. She ground her hips against Imani’s pillowy ass cheeks, while she finger-fucked the dark-skinned woman from behind.

As Jude’s finger, two fingers, then three fingers, pounded harder and faster into Imani’s cunt, Imani felt herself get lightheaded. She’d needed this so much, and Jude—she shuddered as the first wave loomed over her. Jude was whispering in her ear, “I got you, ‘mani. I got you. Let go, I got you.” Jude’s fingers filling her, the way the heel of her palm still attended Imani’s button, the way her coarse pubic hair scratched over Imani’s ass—perfect.

Jude felt Imani tense, then shudder all over; she sped up her delicious assault on Imani’s passage and barely two thrusts later Imani was screaming wordlessly, gushing over Jude’s fingers.

Hours later, Imani lay in bed, studying the patterns of light and shadow on the ceiling. Jude was next to her, smoking silently. The new clinic would come. The exhaustion would come. Jude would disappear again into whatever shadows she always melted into. Not yet. For the next few days, maybe a week, Imani decided she would enjoy this little break.

Knotty

By Degrees

Fri, 06 Feb 2026 00:00:00 +0000

Eleanor had been invited to give a keynote at next week’s symposium on Journalistic Integrity in the Age of Social Media.

She was profoundly disappointed.

She would not be here for Valentine’s Day. The first Valentine’s Day since Heidi had come into her life.

She texted Heidi to give her the news, which, of course, she was absolutely jubilant over.

🎉👏🏆

Omg congrats!! so hyped you’re literally amazing 😭💖

I’m going to miss our Valentine’s Day, won’t be home until after 10pm on Saturday.

😢

j/k another time?

…

im free tonight 🙏

Eleanor’s disappointment vanished.

“Comfortable, Pet?”

Eleanor was using her ‘in charge’ voice, but the question came from a place of true caring. Heidi nodded eagerly. She never used words until invited to speak. Eleanor had trained her well.

“Wonderful. I have something special planned for us tonight.” Eleanor moved from the side of the bed and into her bathroom. When she returned, she paused to admire the sight. Beautiful, ginger-haired Heidi, secured wrist-and-ankles, was lying face up and spread-eagle on Eleanor’s bed. The bright red webbing of the under-mattress restraints contrasted beautifully against Heidi’s pale skin.

As would Eleanor’s own black, see-through, crotchless body stocking.

Once again, Eleanor marvelled that this brilliant, breathtaking Journalism major at Ashford College had come into her life. Members of Eleanor’s own graduating class had children her age! She bit her lip for a moment, suddenly uncertain, but then Heidi shifted on the bed, twisting her hips and revealing the neatly tended patch of fire-orange pubic hair and confidence returned.

She moved to the foot of the bed, the clacking of her heels announcing her approach. Heidi’s little shiver of anticipation sent a thrill through Eleanor’s belly.

“Now, Pet,” Eleanor began. “Tonight I want you to speak any time you like, do you understand?”

Heidi’s eyes grew wide. “Yes, Mistress.”

“Good.” Eleanor lifted a cigarette lighter into Heidi’s view, delighting in the suddenly nervous look on the young woman’s face. The massage candle followed soon after and Heidi’s concerned expression shifted to desire. “I’m going to give you a massage, Pet. I’m sorry I didn’t have time to prepare the oil first, but you won’t mind if I apply it to your skin, will you.”

Not a question.

“I’d like that so much, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress.”

“Good,” Eleanor said again. She decided to reestablish the boundaries once more before going all in. “Remember what I told you about speaking tonight, Pet.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

The cigarette lighter flared to life.

Heidi flinched, hissing loudly as the molten oil dripped on her bare foot, and again as another drop hit her other foot. Eleanor surreptitiously glanced up at Heidi’s face before setting the candle down and beginning to massage the sub’s feet. Eleanor took great care, pressing her thumbs along the curve of Heidi’s arches, working the oil and the heat into her bridges, attending each toe. When Eleanor’s hands left Heidi’s feet, the younger woman looked nearly asleep.

Heidi yelped in pain when the oil trailed a long line up each of her thighs. Her eyes flew open and locked on Eleanor…and said nothing.

Eleanor began massaging Heidi’s left thigh, down to her calf, then back up, inching ever closer to her perfect, innie pussy. Heidi shifted just a little when Eleanor nearly reached her crotch, moving to meet her domme’s fingers, but Eleanor was faster.

“Not yet, Pet, I’m not done pampering you yet.”

Heidi moaned softly, sounding disappointed…and said nothing.

Eleanor was beginning to feel light-headed with all the build-up when she finally dribbled hot oil over Heidi’s perfectly champagne-glass shaped breasts. She squirmed so beautifully, her chest rising and falling so fast with her deep breaths that Eleanor caught herself rubbing her own clit. Soon, she promised herself, then set the candle down and massaged Heidi’s breasts until her nipples were hard little pebbles. When Heidi made a quiet, lustful groan, it struck right at Eleanor’s core, her clit ached.

“One last part, Pet.” Eleanor leaned over Heidi, kissing her softly on the lips, then stood up. She picked up the candle again and blew it out. There was far more oil than she needed now. She moved to the foot of the bed for a final time and stretched over Heidi’s body. Heidi writhed slowly. Eleanor tipped the candle over and let the oil drizzle over Heidi’s perfect pussy.

“Oooow!” Heidi wailed and struggled against her restraints.

“Heidi?” No longer the ‘in control’ voice.

Heidi shivered, gasped, then locked eyes with Eleanor. “Thank you, Mistress.”

Eleanor set the spent candle aside. She took hold of Heidi’s ankles—gently, deliberately—and adjusted her position before swinging her own right leg beneath Heidi’s left and draping her left over Heidi’s right, opening them to each other. When their pussies kissed—and it was a kiss, lips pressing soft and warm against lips—both women gasped. The massage oil between them, their own arousal, slick and warm—Eleanor felt it all the way through her. She led, grinding her cunt against Heidi’s, rolling her hips constantly, her clit greeting Heidi’s again and again. As their passion built, their movements became jerky and uncoordinated. Eleanor’s head was filled with a lust-fuelled buzz, she realised she had been humping the inside of Heidi’s thigh, rubbing her ass-cheeks against Heidi’s cunt while Heidi was squeezing and twisting her breasts in a way Eleanor never would.

“Pet?” Eleanor gasped.

“Please, Mistresssss,” Heidi whimpered.

“Yes,” Eleanor gasped as she returned her sloppy honeypot to Heidi’s. She rubbed harder, ground and rolled and bucked and then she heard Heidi screaming and felt Heidi’s thighs twitching and felt Heidi’s vulva shuddering against Eleanor’s crotch and—

When Eleanor’s mind returned she and Heidi were lying limp on the bed, pussies still nuzzling together. Carefully, Eleanor moved away from Heidi, then shifted and lay down beside her, face-to-face. She slowly reached up and began undoing the restraint on Heidi’s left wrist.

Heidi’s eyes fluttered open. “N-not just yet? Please, Mistress?”

Eleanor blinked once, smiled and kissed the other woman softly on the lips. “Anything, Pet.”

Knotty

Reindeer Trials

Fri, 26 Dec 2025 00:00:00 +0000

Eleanor stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows in her apartment living room. The snow piled up on the balcony, and below, the city twinkled with a festive glow. She savoured a slow sip from the short-stemmed wine glass, delighting in the sweet, creamy texture. The eggnog flowed smoothly over her tongue and into her throat. The glass, with its squat, heavy body and square-ish bowl with a gold rim, was a ridiculous bit of nostalgia for her. The side of the glass featured two colourful stripes, one red and one green, topped with a ring of holly and berries. A childhood holdover, the glasses made the holiday feel somehow more special when she drank eggnog from them.

She heard a quiet movement behind her, but didn’t turn, not yet. Instead, she gazed at her ghostly reflection in the window, the city lights casting an ethereal glow. She kept herself in excellent shape exactly for nights like tonight. Her long, dark brown hair was tucked behind her ears, and a playful Santa cap held it in place, adding a touch of whimsy to her overall look. Her only other attire was a sleek, red leather bunny suit—sans puffy tail—which showcased the swell of her bust and the curve of her behind in a deliberate, tantalising way. A thick, black leather belt with a shiny gold buckle cinched at her waist, complementing her knee-high, shiny black leather boots. Each boot was held tight at the top, snugged against her thigh with its own shiny gold buckle.

After a prolonged moment, she turned, offering her beautiful young guest a faint, enigmatic smile. The sight of Heidi made her heart soar, but she kept her excitement in check. Not yet, that was for later.

Heidi, the pretty redhead, had shed her buttoned-down, overly serious classroom persona tonight. Eleanor recalled how earnest and driven that Heidi had been when they first met. Eleanor had given a Journalistic Ethics lecture at Ashford College and this brilliant young woman had waited for her afterward, eager to debate many of Eleanor’s assertions. She knew immediately that she must possess this girl.

Things had gone remarkably well, better than Eleanor had dared hope that first day.

Heidi stood exceptionally still, her shoulders squared and chin slightly lowered, just as Eleanor had taught her. Her hands rested on her bare thighs in a pose of subtle, patient submission. Perfect.

Her rice-paper-thin green teddy—one of several Christmas gifts from Eleanor this year—clung to her curves, perfectly complementing her petite frame. The delicate fabric seemed to glow in the light, and Heidi’s skin radiated a warm, golden undertone. The unlined top of the teddy provided a subtle lift to Heidi’s delicate, champagne-glass-shaped breasts, accentuating their gentle curves. The front panel covered her torso, but the sheer fabric revealed more than it concealed, leaving her sides, waist, and hips completely bare. The teddy’s open bottom was an invitation, and Eleanor’s gaze lingered on the exposed skin. Heidi was stunning.

“I have good news and bad news, Elf,” Eleanor said softly, using her ‘in charge’ voice. Eleanor’s commanding tone was unmistakable, and Heidi’s body responded instinctively, her muscles tensing in anticipation of what was to come. However, Heidi knew better than to speak out of turn, and she remained silent as she awaited further instruction. The air was thick with anticipation, and Heidi’s silence was a testament to her training and devotion to Eleanor

“The bad news is that one of Santa’s reindeer can’t work this year, so I will have to find a replacement. Fortunately, that leads me to the good news.” Eleanor approached Heidi with the deliberate slowness of a cat stalking its prey, her heels clicking out a rhythmic pattern on the hardwood floor. The sound seemed to echo through the room. “The good news, Elf, is Santa has one more gift for you.”

With a subtle movement, Eleanor used the toe of her boot to slowly slide a box from under the sofa. She left it at Heidi’s feet, the beautifully wrapped gift reflecting the warm lighting of the room.

“You can open it.”

Heidi squatted slowly, then knelt, just the way Eleanor had taught her, and carefully opened the box, the lid creaking as it opened. The label on the top seemed to gleam in the light, the words ‘PROPERTY OF SANTA’ emblazoned on it a promise. Inside the box, a bed of red silk cradled the contents. In the centre, a beautifully crafted under-bust harness lay waiting, the smooth brown leather gleaming with a subtle sheen. The harness was adorned with gleaming gold studs, and a bright red lace-up corset seemed to pulse with a vibrant energy. A row of three gleaming brass bells lined each side of the harness. A matching silicone bit-gag accompanied the harness, featuring a bell on each side, with a strap made of matching brown leather. At the bottom of the box, a candy-cane striped strapless strap-on lay waiting, prominently labelled ‘For Santa’s Use Only!’.

“Try it on, Reindeer,” Eleanor said, her voice slow and husky as she loomed over the kneeling girl, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. Heidi stood up without hesitation. She carefully slipped out of her lingerie, and Eleanor couldn’t help but gasp softly at the sight of her sub’s enthralling beauty. As Heidi began to struggle into the harness, Eleanor’s eyes never left her. She watched Heidi’s squirming with amusement, her eyes glinting with pleasure. “Would you like some help, Reindeer? It’s only your first day, I know.”

Heidi’s eyes met Eleanor’s, and the look of giddy excitement that sparkled there was almost too much. She felt a laugh rising up, but suppressed it, not wanting to break the spell. What an incredible girl!

“Yes, please, Mis–Santa.” Heidi caught herself almost in time; tonight’s play was different, and she had to remember new things.

Eleanor took her time securing Heidi into the harness. She spoke in a cool, clinical tone, her words a steady stream as she announced each buckle, as if she were performing an inspection, her fingers moving with precision as she worked. As she finished cinching the last buckle, the one that held the harness snugly around Heidi’s waist, a shiver ran through Heidi’s thighs, a hint of her growing arousal that didn’t go unnoticed.

Eleanor took her time lacing the corset, her fingers moving with deliberate slowness. Once it was secured, she ran her fingertips over the whole affair, her touch light and teasing. Then, she cupped Heidi’s breasts briefly, her palms cradling them possessively. The sub’s sharp intake of breath and the stiffness of her nipples gave Eleanor all the confirmation she needed.

“Good, you’re almost ready,” Eleanor said as she bent down and retrieved the bit-gag from the box. “All we have left is this.” Eleanor stood behind Heidi, her hips brushing against the girl’s bare ass cheeks. She brought the gag over Heidi’s head, holding it before her mouth with a silent insistence. Heidi opened wide and Eleanor placed the bit inside, then tightened the straps until she was certain Heidi wouldn’t be able to properly close her mouth or talk for the duration.

“Perfect,” Eleanor intoned, sounding satisfied as she stepped back to inspect her handiwork. “But listen closely, Reindeer,” Eleanor said, her voice taking on a stern tone. “A noisy reindeer will wake the children and spoil Christmas. You need to move with precision, or you don’t move at all. Understood?”

A small pearl of drool had already formed on Heidi’s lower lip. She nodded, causing both the bells on her bit and at her side to jingle softly. Heidi’s eyes widened in surprise, her face a picture of shock as she realised the noise she had made. “Uhh-huh-whah.” Understood.

“What a good reindeer you are. Now let’s begin your training. Down.” Eleanor had to turn away to hide her smile as Heidi carefully got down on all fours. The jingling of the bells, the creak of the straps and leather, and Heidi’s own very loud breathing all combined to create a symphony of sound that thrilled the domme. “That was terrible,” Eleanor said, turning back, in control of herself again. “The family dog is barking his head off at all that racket.”

Eleanor slowly began to circle Heidi, taking in the sight of her sub on her hands and knees. Heidi made such a pretty picture, her breasts hanging free, her skin aglow. She was completely naked from the waist down, and Eleanor couldn’t help but feel a surge of desire at the sight. As Eleanor circled Heidi, her fingertips slid over her sub’s skin, tracing the curves of her body. She lingered for a long moment behind Heidi. Her legs were spread wide enough apart that Eleanor could admire Heidi’s firm, plump ass, but also her pink folds between her legs. They glistened a little, already slick with arousal. Below that, Eleanor caught sight of the thick, orange pubic hair she had told Heidi to grow out.

Heidi’s left thigh twitched.

“Are you getting tired, Reindeer? You woke up the family dog, and now you need to stay perfectly still. No sounds out of your bells, no matter what. You need to wait until the dog stops barking.” Eleanor very slowly caressed Heidi’s ass cheeks, tracing the curves of her body. She let her fingertips follow the gap up to Heidi’s tailbone, her touch light and teasing. “You told me you understood, Reindeer. I’m sure the dog will get bored soon, and then you can move again.”

One minute.

Two.

Heidi began to make a pained sound, the noise muffled by the bit in her mouth. Drool pooled on the floor beneath her, a testament to her growing discomfort. Eleanor watched, fascinated, as Heidi’s thighs and ass twitched and shuddered. The lactic acid must have been building up, and Eleanor could see the tension in the sub’s body.

Four.

“I think he’s almost tired himself out,” Eleanor announced, her voice a near monotone. She had retrieved another of their toys, a feather duster, and Eleanor began stroking the insides of Heidi’s thighs with it. Eleanor’s self-control slipped the tiniest bit, and she found herself running the feathers over Heidi’s pussy. It was pink and swollen with need, and Eleanor could see the dew collecting in Heidi’s pubic hair. The sub moaned in desperation and moved back against the duster. She was practically presenting, but she did it with such slow and careful movements that not a single bell made a sound. Eleanor was amazed.

“Very good, Reindeer,” Eleanor said, standing up slowly and feeling a little light-headed at her own excitement. Excitement and overwhelming feelings of love, admiration, and connection. “You may move again, if you like.”

She allowed herself a steadying breath, then another, before turning her attention back to Heidi, who was standing again and facing Eleanor, in the preferred pose; shoulders squared (We don’t do shame, we don’t do meek, we do proudly respectful.) and eyes slightly downcast. “The next training task, we’re going to practise following instructions. Stand at the windows, face the city.”

As Heidi walked to the windows, standing almost exactly where Eleanor had, there was barely more than a whisper from the bells. She learns so quickly, she always tries so very hard. “Stop there. Now, you’ll do as I say, but you’ll do it as evenly as possible. No bells, no rush, precision in every movement. Understood?”

A slobbery sucking sound came from Heidi before she responded. “Uhh-huh-whah.” Understood.

“Stand tall, hands on hips.” Eleanor started her with something easy.

“Touch your toes.” The bells whispered again, but Eleanor ignored it in favour of admiring Heidi’s bare bottom, her exposed slit and her beautiful, long legs.

“Squat.” This was more difficult still, but Heidi had been practising, not just in their sessions. Eleanor had her hold the position for nearly a minute as she retrieved the “For Santa’s Use Only” device.

“Knees,” Eleanor’s voice was sharper this time, less controlled. She was certain Heidi would notice, but no matter, she would know why soon.

“Stand, heel-turn to face me.” This time there was a faint jingle out of some of the bells along Heidi’s side, but their game was nearly at an end. She was sitting on the sofa, in the middle, with the strapless strap-on rising comically up from between Eleanor’s legs. The large bulb that held it in place was deep, deep inside Eleanor.

“Do you want to go for a ride on the sleigh, Reindeer?”

Heidi nodded eagerly, drool trailing from her lips all over her chest. “Yuth, plah, Sanha.”

“Come for a ride, then,” Eleanor beckoned her over. Heidi moved with the same precision as before, threatening to destroy Eleanor’s willpower, but as she lowered herself onto the fat, fake cock, Heidi’s eyes grew wide. It was bigger than anything they’d used before, but Eleanor knew her pet was ready. “Ride. Enjoy yourself, Reindeer.”

Eleanor’s voice was low, throaty with desire and she didn’t bother to stifle her moans as Heidi began bouncing. The thick bulb deep inside Eleanor slid and ground and thrust in response to Heidi’s every twitch.

Eleanor’s hands moved to Heidi’s perfect little tits, caressing each, smearing Heidi’s own drool all over the exposed skin, then she gave each nipple a sharp pinch and a little twist. In response Heidi’s belly flexed and rolled and her hips drove the dildo deeper into Eleanor than she’d thought it could go. In her silly Santa-domme boots, Eleanor’s toes clenched and flexed as her own pent-up desire barrelled toward release.

No! Not first! Eleanor thought wildly, watching Heidi’s perfect body, watching her soulmate, fuck herself madly on the ridiculous, candy-cane-striped silicone dong that ground and squirmed inside her own hot passage. She released Heidi’s left nipple and brought her hand down. She locked eyes with her sub as her thumb navigated Heidi’s dense orange thatch and then attended her clit. She circled, stroked, pressed, never losing contact as Heidi whimpered and twitched and dribbled spittle everywhere.

They didn’t climax together, Eleanor wasn’t able to manage that, but the way Eleanor’s climax crashed through her body, sent her into very un-domme-like squeals of delight, was enough to push Heidi over her edge. Within seconds the two women, the lovers, were connected by pure, animal bliss.

“Heidi, dear, where are you?” Eleanor was using her lover voice now. This voice didn’t command, didn’t instruct; this one confessed and praised and encouraged. Sometimes, only sometimes, it hoped—hoped it could be like this forever.

They were still tangled on the couch, the strapless strap-on still inside them both, both basking in the blush-pink afterglow of their shared lovemaking.

Heidi was slumped against Eleanor, her face buried in her domme’s neck. After a very long pause she replied softly, “Home.”

Knotty

Naughty or Nice

Fri, 19 Dec 2025 00:00:00 +0000

I ought to say no, no, no sir.
Mind if move in closer?
At least I'm gonna say that I tried.
What's the sense of hurting my pride?

“Heidi, dear, where are you?”

Heidi’s face grew hot as she turned, heart racing in her chest. She’d been staring out the windows of Eleanor’s apartment and lost in the music playing from … somewhere. She never saw speakers but the room was bathed in the warm, comforting sounds of jazzy Christmas standards. Beneath her, the city spread out like glittering quartz on a dark beach. The apartment was warm and dim, lit by nothing but fairy lights and the Christmas tree, now that dinner was done, and for a moment Heidi had lost herself in the view; in the moment.

“Sorry,” she responded, quickly, whirling and moving toward the kitchen. “I was—”

“I know what you were doing, dear,” Eleanor purred, blocking Heidi’s path. “You love the view up here.” The older woman regarded her guest for only a moment—just long enough for Heidi to feel a flicker of concern—before offering her a tiny respite. “I finished up already. Dishwasher running, others put away.”

Heidi looked stricken. Eleanor had invited her over, made her dinner, and now she was left to do most of the cleaning up? She was already mentally berating herself as Eleanor’s warm hand touched her shoulder and guided her toward the living room. “Dear, you’re my guest. You don’t need to concern yourself with little tasks like that. Don’t be silly.”

The women moved around the roll-armed sofa before the tree. The leather was so shiny that to Heidi it appeared wet. Eleanor sat carefully down in the middle, directing Heidi to stand before her. “Are you dressed?” she asked simply.

Heidi squirmed—she’d been doing so all evening, truth be told, because she was, in fact, dressed. Eleanor had asked her to wear something flattering but modest as her outer layer but beneath … beneath Heidi was wearing only a full-body leather harness. The one they had picked out together last week. “Yes.” Her voice so quiet even the soft music filling the room nearly drown her out.

“Are you dressed?” Eleanor didn’t want words and she wouldn’t ask a third time.

Heidi’s blush deepened as she unbuttoned the thin silk blouse—another treasured gift from Eleanor—but the older woman was as serene and unfathomable as a winter landscape, her beauty frozen and unyielding, with only the barest hints of warmth and life beneath the surface.

Standing back up, before her mistress, Heidi undid the shiny gold buttons on her left hip that held her midi-length pencil skirt in place. She didn’t dare let it fall away, Eleanor had been working very hard, teaching her to respect her possessions, but instead placed it carefully on the sofa atop her blouse. She took the smallest steadying breath she could manage then stepped out of her chunky-heeled pointed toe shoes. Eleanor had commented on them one day they were out shopping together and Heidi returned to the store to buy herself a pair the following morning.

Standing before her like this, in the glow of the Christmas lights, somehow more exposed than if she were fully nude, Heidi waited in silence. Hoping for something she knew not what. The glossy green leather consisted of straps secured with gold buckles, studs, and rings. Diamond formations framed her champagne-glass breasts, their nipples painfully erect. A strap ran down from each ‘cup’ to a belt that encircled her waist then continued on to connect two more belts around each thigh, one at the very top of her thighs and a second a few inches below. Both of these Heidi had snugged tight enough to squeeze her flesh just a little. It felt like safety, like Eleanor’s embrace.

As she stood before Eleanor, Heidi felt a thrill of exposure, her crotch bared to her lover’s gaze, with only the soft, orange curls of her pubic hair providing a fragile sense of protection. Eleanor had told her to grow it out and it felt wonderfully decadent every time she touched herself now.

After long moments, the elegant woman seated on the sofa finally spoke. “Good girl,” Eleanor intoned, offering Heidi the smile she so coveted. Heidi felt her knees go weak at the praise and let out the breath she had been holding, unconcerned that, of course, Eleanor could see that she’d been holding it too.

“Now, down.”

Heidi squatted before Eleanor’s seated form, then lowered herself to her knees. She knew Eleanor preferred her to go to her knees in stages. She didn’t commit the sin of sitting on her heels, instead she remained upright and placed her palms on her thighs, waiting.

“Stay there.” Eleanor stood and strode purposefully to her bedroom. A moment later she returned with a large, lumpy Christmas stocking. It was the sort you would find in a pet store, with a clear, glossy pocket designed to hold a picture of a beloved companion. This one bore a photo of Heidi. It was from last September. She was looking right into the camera, laughing. Her messy, uneven hair was shockingly bright orange, except for the nearly-bare scalp of her undercut, where the stubble was a rich auburn."

Eleanor carefully placed the stocking before Heidi on the floor, then knelt behind her. Heidi could hardly contain her excitement with her mistress so close. She could feel Eleanor’s hot breath on the bare skin of her shoulders and her neck. Her breasts ached, swollen with need, as she leaned into the promise of Eleanor’s caress while the thrumming in her core intensified, a pulsing hum that vibrated through her entire body.

But Eleanor would ensure she had what she needed. What she deserved. She just needed to be patient.

“Tell me, dear. Have you been naughty, or nice this year?”

Heidi’s mind reeled. What was the correct answer? What would earn her rewards, and what might bring punishment? She had no way of knowing—she’d never been told.

“Oh, sweet girl, you don’t need to think, you just need to answer me.”

“I’ve … been … nice?” Heidi ventured, the tiny hairs on her bare arms standing up in excited anticipation.

“Wonderful. Then why don’t you see what’s inside your stocking?”

Heidi’s mind spun again. She’d answered correctly—hadn’t she? But she’d been given a command, no time to reconsider or to hesitate. She carefully, reverently, removed the first item from the stocking.

A paddle. An impression paddle. In a candy-cane pattern. Heidi’s eyes widened, and her thighs twitched involuntarily, a shiver running through her.

“That’s for you,” Eleanor murmured, her voice a husky growl against Heidi’s earlobe. “I’ll hold it for you while you look at the rest.” Heidi relinquished the paddle without a sound, though the promise it held and her mistress’s clothed body pressing against her naked flesh from behind, it was already more than she could take.

A jewellery box? Oh no! Heidi felt her stomach fill with butterflies. It was the box!

“Open it, my good girl.”

With trembling fingers, Heidi opened the jewellery box, though she already knew the contents so very, very well. A receipt from the campus coffee shop. The first time they’d gone out together. A book of matches with two missing. Eleanor had Heidi use them to light the candles the first time they used wax. The box was full of trivial little reminders of all the important moments they’d shared. She had no idea Eleanor had known about it.

“Have you been naughty, or nice, pet?”

Heidi was beginning to understand the shape of this game. “Nice,” she responded softly, her voice shy and uncertain. She felt foolish. Like a little girl.

“You have,” Eleanor agreed, and Heidi gasped as she felt the paddle caress her bare behind, soft as dandelion fluff. “See, it’s very easy. Now, there’s more.”

Heidi set aside the jewellery box and retrieved the next item from the stocking. As she pulled it free—an ominous weight in her hand—Heidi’s bare skin prickled with gooseflesh. The room was warm but suddenly she was very cold.

“Have you been naughty … or nice, darling?” Heidi couldn’t see her mistress’s face, but she felt sure Eleanor was glaring at the wooden spoon.

“I…” Heidi’s voice barely a squeak. The paddle caressed her buttocks again, its gentle touch both a warning and a promise.

“Words, Petal. You must use words.” Eleanor’s tone had taken on the menacing edge that filled Heidi with equal parts excitement and dread.

“I don’t underst—”

SMACK!

The candy-cane paddle’s sharp crack cut through Heidi’s words, leaving her gasping, tears welling up in her eyes. Her ass flared with pain immediately and she nearly toppled forward, but Eleanor swiftly pulled her upright by her harness. Still kneeling on the floor behind Heidi, Eleanor brought her lips to the sub’s ear once more.

“Heidi. Naughty or nice.”

Heidi’s teeth sank into her lower lip, her mind racing with the consequences of deception, struggling to find the courage to speak the truth. “Naughty,” she choked out. The paddle touched her skin again and she flinched before understanding it was a caress.

“There’s my good girl,” Eleanor breathed into her ear. Her fingertips were playing over Heidi’s bare stomach now, sending an electric thrill all through her body. “Explain.”

No! Heidi thought. She couldn’t confess. She couldn’t … she couldn’t deny Eleanor.

“W-w-wooden,” was all she could manage.

“You’re being very brave right now, my sweet. Now tell me.”

“I can’t,” Heidi felt herself getting light-headed. She couldn’t say these things out loud. Not to Eleanor! But she couldn’t disobey her either!

SMACK!

“I’m trying!” Heidi was gasping for breath, desperate for any way to avoid confessing.

“No trying. Tell me.” Eleanor never raised her voice. She never had to.

“His n-nickname, W-woodenSpoon,” Heidi finally began. The words came easier the more she spoke. She confessed everything. How he was a dom she’d met on VelvetChains, how they’d never met in person but how Heidi had submitted to him online. It was only once, early in the year, before Eleanor and Heidi had fully committed, but the weight of it had grown every time Heidi had kept it from her mistress.

“Please!” Heidi was shivering all over, crying, nearly hyperventilating at the idea that this might cost her Eleanor’s love and care.

Instead, the paddle was set aside, and suddenly Eleanor’s warm, protective arms wrapped around her. Eleanor was in front of her now, hugging her tight, in just the way Heidi loved best. “Shh, shh, shh, shh,” she whispered softly. “There she is. My brave, strong girl. I’m so proud of you.” She kissed each of Heidi’s cheeks softly. “You’re doing so well for me.”

They stayed like that for a long time. Heidi wasn’t sure how long. She’d practised kneeling even when alone in her apartment, and had become very good at it.

Eleanor’s voice was a gentle breeze on a summer’s day, “There’s one more, my flower,” she said, her words dripping with promise as she stood before Heidi, the stocking still on the floor. Heidi’s emotions had been wrung out, leaving her drained, yet somehow renewed. She was a canvas waiting for its next brushstroke.

But she’d been given an instruction.

With trembling fingers Heidi reached into the stocking once more. As her fingers closed around the device inside, Heidi’s mind reeled with confusion, followed by a thrill of shame that left her breathless and eager. She knew that looking up without permission risked another paddle—or something worse. But how could her mistress have known?

“Have you been naughty or nice,” Eleanor asked and her tone, as always, was gleaming marble under ice.

“Naughty,” Heidi responded, her blush colouring even her pale chest as she pulled the black, silicone covered device from the stocking. The electrical cord trailed behind. Then came the carefully wrapped selection of glass electrodes. Her breath caught as she studied the rake, then the mushroom.

“Is this what you wanted from me, my beautiful thing?” Eleanor’s voice was almost bored, but Heidi knew better. She knew in her heart that the wand was a gift for them both.

“Yes.”

Trembling, gasping, truly naked now save for a sheen of sweat, Heidi lay on Eleanor’s bed. She vaguely remembered Eleanor guiding her here at the end of their session, but what she remembered most was the overwhelming love she felt for Eleanor—and the deep, bottomless love Eleanor returned when she surrendered completely.

“Rest, my love, you’ve done wonderfully.” Eleanor returned to the bedroom, wearing nothing but a silk robe now and carrying drinks for both of them. “Drink first—you need electrolytes—then sleep. I have you.”

Knotty

Rainy Pub Romp

Fri, 14 Nov 2025 00:00:00 +0000

The sleet chases you through the door as you struggle to close it behind you. The warm, smoky, whisky-soaked air wraps you in a lover’s embrace. The only one to take note of your arrival is Noah, forever tending bar, and he only offers a nod and a flick of his head that says, “Wherever you can find a seat.”

The cozy space is filled with the sounds of laughter and camaraderie and it feels almost like stepping into your childhood home only to smell fresh cookies. It’s marvellous.

Outside, the sky is black and tiny, stinging pellets of ice hammer the windows that look out over Stockwell Street. The sun set a little after 4 p.m. today, but you’d hardly know it; it’s been coorse all day, pure Baltic, and you couldn’t be happier to be out of it for a spell; probably more than a spell.

“Up here!” you announce, dragging Taran deep into the pub, toward a relatively quiet corner in the back. You know the snug would be empty when you got here, the previous occupants having only just left, the scent of stale cigars and sweet uisge beatha lingering. You know it because the book wrote it that way.

Taran laughs, letting you lead them through the patrons, hesitating only for a beat when you both reach the snug. They have their free hand in their Mackintosh and you know they are touching their strange heirloom; the pocket watch with all the cracks in the face, the one that tells time but never time right now.

Another time.

You direct them to the far side of the snug and, without a word, you duck below the table.

“Blair!” Taran hisses, equal parts amused and shocked by your behaviour.

“Shush, you,” you hiss. With the door of the snug closed, they can hear you over the noise of the pub as you peer up at them from the floor, from beneath the table. “Not a word.”

The door to the snug opens abruptly and Taran jumps, just as you were setting their legs aright over your shoulders.

“Guid evenin!” It’s Millie. You know her voice well; her accent is hard as Henderson’s. “Thought I saw Blair comin’ in as well.”

“G-gone to the bog,” Taran stammers; your heart swells at their nervousness. “Two pints of heavy; we’ll get food later on.”

“Two heavy it is, luv,” Millie says. You smile as you hear the snug door latch.

You unbutton the front of Taran’s trousers, revelling in the mix of excitement and panic on their delicate features.

“Blair!”

“Shut up an’ use your Mack,” you giggle as you duck down, roughly tug their pants to their knees, then return to your place between Taran’s thighs, lightly raking your nails over their tender flesh.

Taran drops their heavy trenchcoat over their lap, and by extension your head, as you alternate between kissing and nibbling their inner thighs.

You feel their hand on the back of your head, beneath the coat, gently but urgently guiding you up. “Blair,” they murmur in that voice that would unhinge your knees if you weren’t already on them between their legs.

You oblige.

The smell, the feel, their heat, you can’t remember anything feeling, smelling, or tasting as good in your life, and the reflected glow you feel from their love is beyond words.

Your mouth eagerly accepts them. Your tongue probes, searches, explores. You know all their secret places, but every time is also a new adventure; a new way to make Taran gasp or sigh or whimper, and oh do you love the way Taran whimpers.

“Here y’go, luv!” Millie announces, the door suddenly open. You nearly squeal with delight at the panicked squeezing of Taran’s thighs on the sides of your head. “Blair not back yet?”

“No!” Taran sounds nearly frantic and you can’t resist. You use your teeth – just a little, just enough – drawing a most embarrassing sound from your lover. “No, but we ran here from the Uni, Blair’s probably—” you send your tongue further down than before and Taran’s body responds just as you’d like. “Warmin’ up!” Taran squeaks, nonsensically, “Back soon!”

Millie sounds dubious, “Right, well, if y’want somethin’, shout at me or go see Noah.” The door closes again.

“Blair!” Taran whisper-shouts at you but you can’t be bothered with words; the trembling in Taran’s thighs and elsewhere give you all the direction you need. You carry on. Your tongue performs while one saliva-slick finger plays counterpoint.

Taran is nearly there – you’re nearly there, too, truth be told – when Millie returns again. The door opens and you can’t fully stifle the oof as Taran’s legs squeeze your head so hard you worry you might pass out.

“Still good? Should I check on Blair, luv?”

“No!” Taran yelps. “No,” they follow quickly, “no, they got a call from the Uni, nipped outside.”

“Alright,” Millie replies and you know she’s not convinced at all, but the door latches and seconds later your mouth is overflowing with Taran’s bliss.

When the door to the snug opens again you’re sitting opposite Taran, holding hands across the table. Millie gives you her usual, merry grin. “Blair, luv! Need anythin’?”

You fix Taran with an evil smirk then glance up at Millie, “How’re the eggs tonight? I want something filling.”

Knotty

Creepy Cabin Lust

Fri, 24 Oct 2025 00:00:00 +0000

“Hey everyone!” Hazel beamed into the camera she held at arm’s length. “TwitchWitch again we’re on another spooky adventure!” She walked backward down a narrow path toward a cabin surrounded by dense woods. “Of course I’m here with my producer, the original BooBuster!” She turned the camera on Lena who was carrying two bags of groceries and a cardboard box of Merlot.

“I didn’t even choose that name! You just like that it sounds like ‘boob’!” Lena grumbled gently. Hazel’s chaotic enthusiasm was the thing Lena loved most about her, and Lena loved a lot about Hazel.

The camera whipped back to frame Hazel’s ebullient smile, “We’re all the way out in – "

“The middle of nowhere,” Lena called as she appeared in-frame behind Hazel, carrying the supplies to the front door of the cottage.

“– the woods,” Hazel continued, undaunted, “spending the weekend at this reportedly haunted cottage to commune with the dead! And make s’mores.”

“Mostly s’mores,” Lena called again, nearly dropping the box of wine trying to unlock the door.

“It’s so weird, I’m not getting anything,” Hazel had circled the interior of the cabin three times, camera in one hand and K2 in the other, while Lena prepared dinner. The EMF detector hadn’t even flickered. Lena finished the dishes as Hazel added the bedroom and the bathroom to her exploration.

Outside, the weather had turned unexpectedly. Lena remembered weather reports calling for clear skies all weekend. Rain hammered the tiny windows and wooden walls as the wind buffeted the whole structure. A beast seeking a way in.

“Babe,” Lena called from the couch. “How about you take a break, huh? I got a fire going.” Hazel would be disappointed if she didn’t find any ’evidence’ but Lena really wanted an evening with her girlfriend.

“We should greet them! The spirits get testy if we aren’t respectful,” Hazel announced as she returned, the camera and EMF detector nowhere to be seen. She cleared a space on the floor in front of the fireplace.

“You’re thinking of my supervisor,” Lena teased as she moved to the floor as well.

Sitting cross-legged on the floor opposite each other, with a small incense burner between them and a glass of wine each, the women began Hazel’s welcoming ritual.

“We’re hoping to communicate with anyone who may be here,” Hazel began, glancing around the dark corners of the room. “My name’s Hazel. This is Lena. We don’t mean any disrespect.” She shot Lena a warning look. Don’t scoff, it said. They won’t like it, it said.

“You’re welcome here,” they intoned together, a script Lena knew well. “You’re welcome here,” they repeated, and once more, then sipped their wine. Suddenly, an exceptionally powerful gust crashed around the cabin, throwing the front door wide and startling both women.

Hazel’s was jubilant! “Hello? You’re here? Thank you for that sign!”

Lena laughed as she ran to the door, making sure it was latched and bolted. “Babe, it’s a miracle this place is still standing! The wind blowing open a door isn’t a sign from beyond.”

Hazel offered a patient smile, “Well explain this!” She held up her forearm for Lena’s inspection. “Look! Goosebumps! It’s freezing all of a sudden!”

Lena smirked and pulled Hazel into a gentle embrace. “I’ll give you goosebumps.”

Giggling, Hazel draped her arms over Lena’s shoulders, “But the spirits are watching!”

“Well, they can like and subscribe,” Lena murmured, her lips meeting Hazel’s. Their kiss deepened as her tongue entered Hazel’s mouth. Hazel responded eagerly, pressing her hips against Lena’s and running her hands down Lena’s sides, tugging her shirt out of her jeans.

Lena moaned into Hazel’s mouth, kissing her with a desperate passion as she slipped both hands down the back of Hazel’s leggings.

“Babe!” Hazel pulled back, eyes wide enough to see the whites. “D’you feel that?”

Lena hesitated to admit it, but she had felt a strange tingle; probably the storm, the atmosphere, Hazel’s unwavering belief in the supernatural. Still, she had felt something. A little electric shock pulsing over their skin, not painful, just a pinch.

“Static discharge? From the storm?” she guessed, grasping at rational explanations, though she knew she was just throwing out words.

“They like us!” Hazel’s hands crept up Lena’s back beneath her shirt as she called out to the ‘spirits’, “Thank you! For letting us know you’re here!”

“C’mon, babe!” Lena murmured softly as she squeezed Hazel’s perfectly shaped ass. “It’s just us.” But even as she said it, her voice lacked the usual certainty.

Hazel claimed Lena’s lips with a fierce, hungry kiss, tearing her shirt over her head and tossing it aside. Her tongue invaded Lena’s mouth with urgent need as her hands unhooked the back of Lena’s painfully practical “granny-bra.” Hazel’s tongue tangled with Lena’s in a wild, drowning hunger, her lips trailing down to her neck before she grasped Lena’s full, inviting breasts. She squeezed once, then yanked Lena’s bra off, exposing thick, dark nipples to the cool night air. “Babe,” she breathed over Lena’s skin, her lips moving lower, to the sensitive curve of Lena’s left breast, where she suckled with teasing, possessive intent.

Lena gasped as an incredibly cold fingertip trailed down her bare back. “Haze?” she whimpered softly.

Hazel smiled impishly, releasing the nipple just long enough to say, “It’s just us,” then quickly unbuttoned Lena’s jeans and tugged them down around her knees.

The cabin shuddered, the wind buffeting it again and Lena was sure she’d heard voices – more than one – sighing happily beneath the gale. She opened her mouth to say something but lost her words as Hazel’s lips pressed against the her pubic mound, then further down.

She could feel Hazel’s probing tongue pushing against her panties; her treasures beneath.

“Haaa~,” Lena gasped, burying her hands in Hazel’s hair. She’d intended to speak but Hazel had exposed her pussy and began licking eagerly, back to front, curling her tongue inside with each pass.

Frigid, invisible fingers began teasing Lena’s nipples.

Lena tightened her grip on Hazel’s hair, and Hazel took it as encouragement. She lapped harder, faster, soft moans of delight escaping her lips as she explored Lena’s depths.

“Haze,” Lena gasped, her mind foggy with lust and a touch of panic over the hands now playing with her tits. Ghostly, icy hands that only heightened her arousal.

MmmHMMM! Hazel moaned into Lena’s pussy, sending a thrumming wave through Lena’s most sensitive parts. She moved her hands to Lena’s behind, giving each cheek a rough squeeze pulling her lover’s crotch firmly against her face.

Lena made a sound that might have been the start of Hazel’s name or just a wordless whimper, but she was silenced by a kiss. Their unseen companion, one of them, at least, claimed Lena’s mouth. The lips against hers were like ice, but the tongue that sought out hers was warm and full of passion.

She lost herself then, sinking into the wonderful feelings of riding her girlfriend’s face while ghostly hands played with her breasts and a ghostly mouth gave her a wildly passionate, longing kiss.

Other ghostly hands were on her thighs, on her back, and as one of those icy fingers grazed her labia then began probing gently at Lena’s asshole, she broke. Whimpering and trembling and squeezing her thighs as tight as she could against Hazel’s head while the first, of many, orgasms crashed into her.

Lena lay tangled in the blankets they had pulled onto the floor, staring up at the ceiling with an expression of blissful disbelief. Hazel kissed her softly, then got up and ambled int the kitchen. “Shit, the batteries are dead!”

Lena blinked slowly and pushed herself up on an elbow, a sleepy smile lingering on her face. “What? Babe, were you recording that?”

Hazel blushed prettily and let out a shy laugh. “I tried to! I didn’t think you were gonna, y’know, but yeah, of course I set up the tripod before we did the ritual.”

Lena groaned softly, a warm flush spreading through her. “I’m on a sexorcism tape.”

Hazel giggled as she rejoined Lena on the floor, curling close again. “I’ll edit it very tastefully! It’s gonna be our first million likes.”

They stayed there for a moment, wrapped in each other’s arms. The storm had passed and the night was silent all around. As Lena drifted off to sleep she thought she heard a voice from somewhere very far away.

Thank you for letting us in.

Knotty

Leaf Peeping

Fri, 10 Oct 2025 00:00:00 +0000

“My name’s Harper, you can call me Harper.” That joke always got a few chuckles and a few groans, but Harper never gave up on it. I’ll marry the girl who laughs at that one, she’d joke to the other guides, who would invariably roll their eyes and change the subject.

“Today we’re doing the Maple Song Loop. I will be singing later; if I get compliments, I’ll bring you back!” More soft chuckles and she carried on, satisfied. “It’s a green trail, nothing difficult, but it’s about five miles. Expect we’ll be out for about three hours. That means your boots are laced tight–”

Harper kept going, sprinkling in easy jokes and light-hearted banter, but Alex’s attention drifted. It felt so good to be out of the city! Away from her too-large apartment, the noise, the endless bullshit filling her days. This is what I need, she thought. A long walk in the woods, fresh air, and the colors of fall. It renews the soul.

As the guide was wrapping up, Alex struggled to recall what Harper had just said. Harper, what a beautiful name! she thought, then giggled softly at her own silly smile. Maybe she’ll have to rescue me, she mused, a playful thought from her high school fantasies—more than a decade ago now.

“Everyone still okay?” Harper asked the group – eight in total, including herself – as they reached the first lookout. There was a murmur of affirmation and Harper settled into her usual spiel. The view was stunning, but her favourite spot wasn’t on the tour today; too tough for your typical leaf peeper.

Her attention drifted to the woman at the back of the group. She looked outdoorsy in that “fresh off the rack” way; adorable. A city girl really trying to fit in. Only a few years younger than herself, curvy in all the right places, practically giddy with excitement. Harper was pretty sure she’d heard her squeal when the wildlife got so close on this trail.

“Five minutes, then we move on to site two,” Harper finished, as the others spread out, snapping pictures and reading the signage. She approached the woman, who was kneeling and tying her laces. Again. “New at this?” she teased gently, nodding at her untied laces – they’d come undone three times already.

“What? Oh, no! I don’t know what it is about these stupid laces! They won’t stay tied.”

Harper smiled and crouched in front of her, “You’re tying them wrong, City Girl.” Harper’s tone was playful, gentle, friendly teasing. “Mind if I…?”

The woman looked momentarily confused, then blushed prettily and laughed, “Please!”

Harper took the laces, deliberately letting her fingertips brush linger on the back of City Girl’s hand. “You alternate sides, top and bottom,” she explained, showing her how a bow would stay secure or come loose. She looked up into the pretty brunette’s eyes and said, “Let me do the other one.”

“Alex,” the woman blurted.

“Hmm?”

“My name,” she said, surprised at herself. “It’s Alex.”

Now it was Harper’s turn to blush, “Hi, Alex.”

The sun edged toward the horizon as the group reached the trailhead parking lot. They were all rumpled and winded, but each took a moment to thank Harper, most promising to leave positive feedback. Harper smiled warmly, knowing most wouldn’t follow through, but every bit helped.

“This was just what I needed!” Alex exclaimed as the others departed. Harper offered Alex her warmest smile. The last few hours had kept Alex close and Harper had been more than a little charmed by how genuine and enthusiastic this city girl seemed, even when she was clearly struggling with the exertion.

Harper’s gaze sharpened, confident and teasing. “I’m glad,” she said smoothly, wrapping her arms around Alex in a quick, warm hug. She’d guessed Alex wanted more than just a handshake. Alex hesitated for a moment, then returned the hug with vigour.

When they parted, Harper caught the faintest blush and made up her mind. “It’s a shame we don’t get to visit my favourite spot,” she said softly. “You’d love it.”

Alex looked surprised. “Why doesn’t the tour go there?”

Harper’s smile deepened, confident and daring. “It’s not as easy as the Loop. And I wouldn’t take just anyone.”

Alex’s smile became a half-smirk. “Would you take me?”

“Show me your pack,” Harper said playfully but with a hint of seriousness. She inspected the items Alex has packed, nodding at some, frowning at others, then carefully repacked it with a sunny smile. “Alright, you probably won’t die if we get separated.”

A sudden fear washed over Alex; she paled. “Separated?”

Harper laughed and lightly touched Alex’s shoulder. “Relax! We won’t. But y’know… the people who do get lost in the woods are the ones who don’t plan for it.” She took a deep breath, filling her lungs, and deliberately let her chest rise and fall, the crisp morning air making her cleavage look especially inviting. She exhaled slowly, fog curling in the cold air. The day would warm up, but right now, Alex wished Harper had told her to bring a jacket.

They followed the Maple Song Loop a few hundred yards past the first lookout point when Harper pointed into the brush. “That way, that’s our trail.”

Alex peered sceptically at what could possibly be a trail, but could also be a slightly thin part of the trees. She was about to ask Harper for reassurance but the taller woman was already disappearing between the branches.

A short distance into the new trail, Alex caught up. She was relieved to see the path soon became much clearer, marked by a blue diamond trail marker on a tree. “Split Oak Hollow,” Harper called over her shoulder. “My little secret corner of the woods.”

“R-really?” Alex managed, her face already heating from the exertion; this incline was steeper than Maple Song’s gentle slope and the cold morning air made her cheeks burn.

Harper chuckled softly as she glanced back. Alex suddenly felt a pang of self-consciousness, but also a strange thrill—Maybe she really will have to rescue me.

“Don’t worry, city girl, it’s not far.” Harper said, her tone light and teasing.

Alex tried to process her words, but her focus was broken as she realised how much Harper resembled that ponytailed adventurer from those video games.

“What?” Alex gasped, voice breathy and shaky. Are we climbing a mountain? It didn’t look steep!

“About two hundred yards, then it levels out,” Harper said with a playful laugh. She was walking backward—how was she navigating this vertical cliff backwards?!

“Oh–kay,” Alex panted staring at her feet.

“I’m gonna die,” Alex groaned, pressing the heel of her palm hard into her side just below her ribs.

Harper laughed again and moved close – intoxicatingly so – murmuring, “Nobody dies on my hikes. Look.”

Alex looked.

She’d heard a waterfall since they left the Loop, but now they’d arrived. Somewhere above, a river spilled over a cliff, gathered in a pool here, then tumbled over the side and vanished below. Mist rose from the waterfall, catching the morning light; air itself strung with diamonds. Ahead was a sheer drop with a breathtaking view of a wide valley ablaze with red and gold.

Alex felt like she’d stepped into a storybook.

“Worth it?” Harper asked softly, standing very close behind her. When Alex turned to face her guide, no words came, only a nervous mm-hmm.

Harper’s hands rested gently on Alex’s hips, then she leaned in a little closer. Alex was suddenly acutely aware of Harper’s clean, simple scent. Soap, shampoo, beeswax lip balm. Harper smelled … uncomplicated. It was unbearably attractive.

“Okay?” Harper asked softly. Alex didn’t respond with words. Instead, she closed the distance and kissed Harper fiercely, both hands grabbing her behind. Harper’s hands moved slowly from Alex’s hips, slipping under her jacket, up her back until she felt ridges of Alex’s bra through her thin shirt. Alex moaned into Harper’s mouth, pressing her hips hard against Harper’s jeans. Harper didn’t break the kiss, she just paused, lips still against Alex’s, and softly laughed.

“Been holding back, city girl.”

Harper had spread a thick wool blanket over the bare rock, settling herself comfortably with her legs stretched out before her. Alex hesitated for a moment, then knelt down beside her, breath catching.

“Harper…?” she whispered, voice trembling.

Harper chuckled softly, trembling fingers grazing brushing her skin. “Yeah, city girl? Amazing view, huh?”

Alex’s voice was almost a plea. “I want you to see me.” Her heart hammered in her chest, loud and frantic, and she wondered if Harper could hear it. If she hadn’t been so nervous, she might have laughed at the fiery, eager look on her guide’s face.

Harper’s eyes darkened, a slow, knowing smile curling her lips. “I see you,” she purred, low and inviting, before leaning in just enough to ignite the spark.

Goosebumps rose on Alex’s skin as Harper undressed her. Harper was gentle, almost reverent, carefully placing each piece of Alex’s clothing at the edge of the blanket. Her gaze danced over Alex’s body and back to her face, her mouth, her eyes. “Beautiful,” Harper breathed. The cold morning air stung Alex’s skin, but Harper’s touch felt like fire.

Then, somehow, Alex was nude, both hands on Harper’s shoulders. They kissed, messy and clumsy with need, tongues and teeth and loud moans; when Harper squeezed Alex’s buttocks, she shivered all over. Alex somehow maintained the kiss as she shifted on the blanket, straddling Harper’s thigh and pressing herself down on her guide’s denim-covered leg.

Breaking the kiss, Harper gazed into Alex’s eyes as her fingers moved down Alex’s body. She found Alex’s clit, then slid further down along Alex’s folds. Alex gasped and clutched Harper’s flannel shirt as if it were a lifeline, rocking her hips, grinding against Harper’s fingers and her thigh. The contrast made Alex whimper; the icy morning biting her shoulders, Harper’s touch igniting her from within. She rocked harder and was sure she heard Harper oh-oh-ohhh in response.

“Let go,” Harper whispered, steady, confident, fingers deep inside as the morning sun kissed Alex in places it had never before seen. “I’ve got you, Alex.”

She did. Hearing her name on Harper’s lips pushed her over the most wonderful peak. Pleasure ripped through her, sudden and fierce, her body arching, her cry stifled as she buried her face in Harper’s neck. The morning air was sharp in her lungs, her skin flushed and glowing.

When it ebbed, she slumped forward, sweat dampening Harper’s shirt. For the first time, she didn’t care how she looked, didn’t care who she was supposed to be. She was warm, sated, and free.

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