Then the Morning Comes

Simone wasn't quite sure what woke her up. It might have been the strange taste in her mouth. Sort of a musky flavor. Nice, but definitely unusual.

She didn't wake up much, at first. There was just something so blissful and warm about the nest of blankets around her that the first faint stirrings of consciousness immediately decided to retreat back into the sweet comfort of sleep. She felt silken sheets, warm flesh against her own...

That woke her up just a tiny bit more. She didn't have silk bedding. Whose bed was she in? Muzzily, she tried to remember. She recalled something about a...a crystal? A crystal, yes, spinning and flashing and gleaming with light. A voice...and orgasms, she remembered with a faint sigh. Lots and lots of orgasms. The details escaped her, she hadn't quite woken up enough yet to remember who and why and where, but the what seemed fairly certain in her still half-asleep brain. Lots of sex. Great sex. She shifted position just a little, trying to cuddle up to her lover.

That woke her up further. When she shifted on the bed, she felt a lot of things at once. The first was pain. When she slid a little along the sheets, she felt a tugging on her nipples, a pinching pain that she realized dimly had been a part of her for so long that her brain had tuned it out. Rolling over also seemed to make her notice a soreness on her buttocks, a tenderness that she hadn't felt since she was a kid. She felt discomfort further below, too, something pressing against her stomach. When she moved, it seemed to...to buzz, weirdly enough, sending vibrations straight onto her clit. Had she fallen asleep lying on a vibrator or something? She tried to shift some more, but her range of movement was restricted by the warmth of a person behind her. A person behind her, a person in front of her...just what the heck had she been doing last night? Simone opened her eyes just a little.

Then she opened them a lot all at once. "Omigod," she whimpered. She looked into the face of the sleeping woman, and even though her face was partly covered by a tangle of bright red hair, the red hair itself was distinctive enough that Simone knew immediately who she was looking at. The naked woman she'd been curling up with was her boss. Not just her boss, but her boss's boss's boss. The CEO of the company. Simone tried to slide away as carefully as she could, but then she bumped into the person behind her. She rolled over, trying to figure out as she did so why that vibrator she'd been lying on seemed to move with her and what the pain in her nipples was all about, but all those thoughts were driven out of her head when she saw the other girl.

She had close-cropped black hair, but that wasn't the detail that stuck out in Simone's mind. No, what competed for Simone's attention was the fact that the girl was naked and lying on top of the covers, that she wore a ball gag in her mouth as she slept, that her hands were apparently restrained behind her back by fur-lined handcuffs, and that she had the word 'SLUTPUPPY' written across her chest in crimson lipstick.

Simone sat up abruptly, panicked. The motion caused the sheets to slide off of her, and once again she felt that same pain in her nipples--as well as a definite aggravation of her tender ass. She looked down to see two metal clamps attached to her nipples, not quite tightly enough to cut off the circulation, but enough to hurt. Utterly freaked, she reached up and gingerly removed them. Unsure of what to do with them, she tossed them as far away as she possibly could.

"Careful, dear," a sleepy voice said on her left. "You're going to feel quite a bit more pain once the blood starts flowing back in." She was right, too. Within moments, the numb pinching had transformed itself into a fiery pain.

She looked over, staring into the emerald-green eyes of her boss like a deer looking into the headlights of an oncoming car. "Ms. Atwood!" she squeaked. "I, um, I swear, I don't, I mean I didn't, I've never--" She threw off the covers, trying to extricate herself from the bed as quickly as possible but stunned momentarily into silence by the sight of the strap-on harness she wore and the fake cock jutting obscenely from her crotch. "Oh, god, did I...?"

Ms. Atwood sat up as well, and placed a hand delicately on Simone's shoulder. "You don't remember, do you?"

"No, I--oh, God, Ms. Atwood, I swear, I didn't mean to--I mean, not that you're not--but I don't--and I'm not--" Shame, fear, humiliation and abject astonishment sent Simone's thoughts into a whirl.

"Please," Ms. Atwood replied, "call me Cleo. I think we're among friends."

"Friends, I...I..." Cleo took her other hand and took Simone by the chin, gently moving Simone's head so that she was looking straight into Cleo's eyes. The gesture seemed to calm her down a bit, and she tried to anchor herself to the other woman, take some of Cleo's quiet confidence for her own. "I'm sorry. I just don't want you to think that I'm..." She lost it again, her inner voices all clamoring to find a way to end that sentence. A lesbian? Into kinky sex? Into threesomes? A slut? Sexually harassing a woman who could get me fired? Ready to be pressured into having sex again with a woman who could get me fired if I don't? Attracted to you? Repulsed by you? So many possibilities for disaster loomed in her head that she just couldn't get any of them out, and she just trailed off into silence.

"Shh, shh, it's okay, it's okay," Cleo said, her voice soft and soothing as her hand gently rubbed Simone's shoulder. "You don't have anything to be ashamed of. You don't remember anything of what happened last night, do you?"

Simone tried to think back, but even the memories that she'd clung to on waking seemed to have vanished into a soft, white fog. Dipping her thoughts into the fog didn't seem to bring back memories, either. Just more fog, until her whole mind was filled with it. Finally, helplessly, she just stared into Cleo's eyes and said, "...no."

"It's not too surprising," Cleo said with a trace of amusement in her voice. "We did all have quite a bit to drink last night. Far too much to let you drive home."

"I..." Something about that didn't seem right. She felt the bed shift behind her and knew the other girl had awoken. "I don't feel hung over."

Cleo smiled. "Quite a blessing. You must have an amazing constitution. Plenty of...stamina." Something about the way she purred out that last word delivered an image into Simone's mind, surfacing out of the fog for just a moment. It was an image of her pounding the handcuffed girl from behind with the strap-on, each thrust causing the vibrator to send butterfly tingles onto her clit as she fucked the helpless, moaning girl, and Cleo sitting on the bed, legs spread wide as each thrust forced the girl's face up against her cunt. The girl had been wearing a dildo over the ball gag at that point, literally fucking Cleo with her face... Then it was gone, as suddenly as if it had never been, leaving Simone to wonder if she was remembering it or imagining it.

"Mwfmwfl," the girl said behind her, sitting up. The handcuffs kept her from balancing properly, and she wound up falling against Simone's back. Simone could feel the other girl's nipples press into her back, reminding her of the soreness in her own nipples, her own ass.

"I'm sorry, Cleo," she said, "I must have had too much to drink, I swear I would never have taken liberties like this, I...I don't even remember how I got here." She blushed furiously at the admission.

Cleo chuckled lightly. "Really, Simone, you didn't do anything to be ashamed of. Just think back for me, and try to remember how the night started."

Simone let her mind drift back into the fog again as she stared into Cleo's eyes, trying desperately to find a single shred of memory to bring up for the other woman. "A...party?" she said at last, the words as much a guess as a memory.

"Good girl!" Cleo said. Simone felt a shiver of pleasure rush through her body, and she almost looked down to see if the vibrator had turned itself on somehow. But she couldn't quite look away from Cleo's eyes. "Yes, it was a party. Just a little work get-together for some of the folks in your department."

"Oh..." Simone said, quietly. She did seem to remember the invitation now, even if she couldn't put the event into any sort of context. She remembered Cleo saying something about a quiet affair with just a few people. "But..." She furrowed her brow, trying to remember. "But nobody else was there..."

Cleo gave another little laugh, and stroked Simone's arm lightly. "Of course there were other people there," she said. "It wouldn't really be a party if it was just the three of us, would it? No, you're just remembering that you stayed late, after the other guests had left, because the three of us hit it off so well."

Simone nodded. Cleo was still holding her chin, and it almost felt like she was making her nod as much as she was following the motion of Simone's head with her hand. "But if we didn't...um..." She decided to leave it as 'um' for now, not wanting to think about all the different things the syllable could imply. "Then why am I wearing...this?" She gestured weakly at the strap-on.

"There's a perfectly innocent explanation for that, Simone. My good friend, here," and she gestured to the girl behind her, who chimed in with an incoherent mumble, "accidentally spilled wine all over your outfit. We threw it in the wash, but you were quite shy about being naked, so I found you something else to wear. That was just the only thing I had that would fit you."

"Oh," Simone said, realizing that she was saying it a lot but just so relieved that she hadn't been doing...well, doing another woman. Still, though, something nagged at her attention. "But she..." She flushed again with embarrassment, trying to dredge the other girl's name up out of the mists, but she couldn't even come up with a single letter. "Why does...I mean, if we didn't do anything, um, unusual, then why does she have the gag in?"

"Because you know how some people are after a few drinks. She started talking about punk music, some band she'd seen called 'Slutpuppy'. She just wouldn't shut up about them, so I finally resorted to gagging her." Behind Simone, the girl burbled something, but whether it was a denial or an agreement, Simone couldn't tell.

Simone tried to process the explanation through a mind that still felt half-asleep. "Why do you have a ball gag, though?"

"In case I need to gag unruly friends." Cleo noticed Simone's confused look. "Well, I needed to, didn't I?"

Simone nodded. "But she's..." Simone paused, realizing she had to break down and ask for the elusive name at some point. "I'm sorry," she said to the girl behind her. "I can't seem to remember your name."

Cleo grinned. "Oh, let's just call her 'slutpuppy', just so long as it's only the three of us." She laughed musically. "Sort of an inside joke."

Simone laughed right along for a moment, Cleo's good humor seeming infectious, but then the fog seemed to close back in. "I'm sorry," she said. "I can't remember what happened. I understand the gag, but why is s...slutpuppy handcuffed? And what's with the..." She gestured vaguely across her own chest, which still throbbed from where the clips had pinched her nipples for so long.

"Oh, she's a scamp, that one!" Cleo said. slutpuppy wriggled against Simone's back, and the feeling of the nipples dragging along her skin sent shivers down Simone's spine. "Even after we'd gagged her, she decided to try to tell us more about the band by taking her shirt off and writing on her skin with lipstick. She only got the one word out, though, before I decided to handcuff her."

Simone let out a sigh of relief. It all seemed so innocent, once Cleo explained it all. "And the handcuffs, the strap-on, it's all just..."

"Just normal household items, the sort of thing it's always wise to have on hand when company calls. It wouldn't surprise me if you stopped off on your way home and picked some up, just in case I stopped by." Simone started a little at that. To think that they'd hit it off so well that Cleo would just want to 'stop by'!

"Wow," she said. "I...I mean, you're always welcome at my apartment, but I thought that a woman like you would have more important things to do with your time than visit me."

"I've always got time for my friends," Cleo said. Her hand just kept stroking up and down Simone's arm, all the way from the shoulder to the wrist now. Simone barely even noticed it anymore.

"Like slutpuppy and I?" Something about the idea of being Cleo's friend just made Simone glow inside with pleasure. She wanted to hear Cleo say that again and again.

"She and I are...more than friends, Simone," Cleo said softly. "Does that bother you?"

"No!" Simone blurted out. She realized that had sounded forced, but it really didn't bother her. Quite the opposite. She'd spoken so hastily to cover the instant mental image of the two women locked together in a sixty-nine, and the surge of arousal it had produced. She wasn't gay, but something about Cleo's touch and the feel of slutpuppy's body against hers was stirring urges she didn't even know she had. "No," she said again, softly and meekly, and only Cleo's hand on her chin kept her from casting her gaze downward in sudden shyness.

"Good girl," Cleo said, her own voice soft as well, but with tenderness instead of embarrassment. "Now, doesn't it seem silly to be worried now that I've explained it all to you?"

"Uh-huh," Simone said with a faint smile on her face. Then something occurred to her. "But...what about the nipple clips?"

"What nipple clips, dear?" Cleo replied.

"I...when I woke up, I was wearing...nipple clips," Simone said in confusion.

"No, you weren't," Cleo said softly but firmly. "You weren't wearing any nipple clips at all. That was just a silly dream, a silly sexy dream, and you can forget it all now that you're waking up and here with us."

Simone felt the words stroking away her confusion, leaving in their place firm, new, comfortable memories, but still a lingering concern remained. "Then why are my nipples sore?" she whimpered.

"Your nipples are sore? Oh, my dear, you should have said!" Cleo's face was a picture of concern.

"And my ass, too," Simone said faintly. "And I've got a funny taste in my mouth..."

"Yes, you did have a bit of an unusual dish last night," Cleo said. "But it's actually common to feel sore when waking up, Simone. My nipples ache sometimes too. Here, stand up." Cleo slid backwards off the bed, helping Simone to her feet. Bereft of her support, slutpuppy slid forwards on the silken sheets onto her face.

Cleo rolled her eyes. "Oh, here," she said, helping slutpuppy to the edge of the bed and a sitting position. She took the ball gag off. "Better?"

"Oh, yes, thanks!" said slutpuppy.

"Now, Simone," Cleo said, stepping back in front of her, "let's see if we can't help you with those sore nipples." She reached out and gently hefted Simone's breasts in her hands, gently rubbing her thumbs in slow, tiny circles over Simone's aching nipples. "Does this feel better?"

Simone let out a soft, dreamy sigh. "Yes," she husked out, her voice suddenly high and quiet.

"Here, hold on," Cleo said. "This thing's in the way." She reached down to the fake cock that stuck out between the two of them and slid it gently into her pussy, stepping closer as she impaled herself on the dildo. "There we go, that's just the place for it. Now I think I can really help you feel better." Then her hands were back on Simone's nipples. "How are you now?"

Simone was...wonderful. Cleo seemed to be swaying slightly back and forth, pushing herself onto the fake cock, and the little vibrating part at the base just buzzed at her clit, buzzed and buzzed as Cleo rubbed and rubbed. "good," she whimpered. "my...my ass is still, um..." Another surge of pleasure derailed her train of thought for a moment. "...sore," she finally finished.

"Yes, you fell off your chair after having a bit too much to drink. Not surprised you don't remember. slutpuppy, why don't you go ahead and give Simone's ass a tongue bath? That should help to ease the pain."

Simone just felt the certainty of Cleo's words sinking deep through her brain, through the haze of pleasure into the foggy mist where her memories seemed to sleep, overwriting silly notions of a riding crop smacking down onto her again and again as she begged for more of Mistress Cleo's discipline.

"Very, very good girl," Cleo said, seeing Simone's eyes start to glaze over. "And you probably already know that you shouldn't mention this party to any of your co-workers, Simone." Simone nodded, panting as she felt the hot, wet tongue on her ass, the fingers on her breasts, the vibrator buzzing against her clit. "You don't want them to think I'm playing favorites, do you? Don't want them to get jealous of our special relationship?"

Simone shook her head. "In fact," Cleo continued, "you really don't need to think too much about any of this at all when you leave my home. That way, you won't accidentally risk letting something slip about our friendship, will you?"

"No," Simone responded, knowing that her relationship with Cleo was so precious that she didn't want to risk jeopardizing it, not ever. Cleo was doing so much for her, so many nice things, making her feel so good that she knew she had to repay her by listening to her words and accepting them. She just wished there was some other way she could...could...

Hazily, she recalled Cleo's words of a few moments ago. "Are..." Her breath was coming in gasps now. "Are your nipples aching now?" she asked.

Cleo actually showed surprise on her face at Simone's question, but she answered eagerly nonetheless. "Oh, yess," she sighed out. Her sighs turned to moans as Simone slowly raised her arms up and rubbed Cleo's nipples the way Cleo was rubbing hers. And somehow, that just seemed so natural and right, just two friends helping each other out, there was no need to worry about it or even think too much about it just yet, she could just feel and relax and cum, cum so hard...

Really, it was all perfectly innocent, once you knew what was going on.

*****

"Thank you very much for inviting me to the party, Ms. Atwood," Simone said as she adjusted her stockings, her tone slightly over-formal and her eyes distant and vacant. "I had a..." Her expression went completely blank for a moment as she tried to remember the details of Friday night and Saturday morning and failed. "...a lovely time," she finished robotically.

"It was wonderful having you," Cleo said. "I'm having another little get-together tonight. A quiet affair with just a few people, but I'd really like you to come." The word 'come' triggered a spasm of orgasmic memory in Simone's mind, but it vanished as soon as it had arrived. "Why don't you go ahead and stop by? Say, eight-ish?"

Simone nodded absently, as though the words had bypassed her conscious mind altogether. She slipped on her shoes, kissed Cleo on the lips without even thinking about it, and headed out the door.

Behind them, slutpuppy gave a little wave. When the door closed, she said, "I think she's coming along nicely, Mistress, don't you? Did you see the way she reached out for your tits all on her own?"

"Oh, yes," Cleo said with a smile. "She's coming along very nicely. Tomorrow, I might even let her remember that it's you she's tasting."

THE END