222: Asleep And Awake

on May 23, 2008 in Book 8

In Which Nobody Is In Two’s Bed

Sooni’s door opened right as I got to my room. She popped out into the hall so quickly that I think she must have been watching through the peephole. She was dressed in her ridiculously tiny bikini. Her hair was down and loose, streaming behind her like a cape.

“We’re going swimming,” she said.

“That’s nice,” I said.

“You have five minutes to get changed.”

“What?” I said, so stunned by this declaration that my eyes flew up to meet hers.

“You have five minutes to put on something suitable for swimming in, or my nekos are dragging you to the pool and you can swim naked,” she said, just as calmly and matter-of-factly as she might have announced the next carriage’s arrival schedule. Her face was unusually impassive, and she looked like she was tired.

“Sooni, I don’t have a swimming suit,” I said. “I’ve told you this.”

“Well, I don’t see how that’s my fault!” she said. “I heard your naked girlfriend say you’d been shopping. I saw her putting new clothes away. If you were too thoughtless to get a suit when you knew you needed one, that isn’t my fault and I shouldn’t be punished for it!”

“Hello, Sooni,” Amaranth said, stepping into the door frame behind me and draping an arm over me. “Who’s punishing you?”

“Your stupid slave!” she said, jabbing a finger at me… not merely in my direction, but actually poking me with her fingernail just below my neck, where my robe was open a bit. “She knew I wanted her to come and swim with me and she didn’t buy a swimming suit!”

“Isn’t it a little bit late for swimming, Sooni?” Amaranth asked.

“No,” Sooni said. “This is the best time, because the pool is not crowded.”

“Well,” Amaranth said, “she’ll have to go swimming with you some other time. We’re going to bed.”

As soon as I saw Sooni’s expression change from outrageously put-upon to smug and secure, I felt my stomach contracting into a tiny ball of ice. I could already hear those two words, shrieked at the top of Sooni’s surprisingly expansive lungs: you promised!

“Say goodnight, baby,” Amaranth said.

“Goodnight,” I said.

“Goodnight,” Sooni said.

“Goodnight, Sooni,” Amaranth said.

We stood and watched her turn around and go back into her room, her fox tail swishing back and forth. It was such a useless bit of ornamentation. I couldn’t imagine it would do anything but get in the way, when she was trying to get dressed or sit down or if I were kneeling down behind her, leaning forward to…

“You just want to lick her butt, don’t you?” Amaranth said, knocking whatever I was thinking about from my head.

“That’s more your thing than mine,” I said.

“In general,” Amaranth agreed. “But I meant, specifically. You’d love to lick her butt, in particular.”

I shook my head.

“You need to get your nymph sense checked,” I said.

“It’s okay,” she said, turning us around as she spoke. “You know I’m not jealous.”

“There’s nothing to be jealous of,” I said. “I hate Sooni.”

“Don’t start that again,” Amaranth said. “I told you I’m not going to push you into anything with Sooni, but I won’t have you bad-mouthing her. Understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I had what would eventually prove to be a pleasant surprise when we stepped inside the room, though it took a while for it to sink in just how pleasant it was: they’d draped blankets from beneath a sort of skirt on Two’s mattress, so that my bed was now curtained off.

“Oh, do you like it?” Amaranth asked, seeing where I was looking.

I didn’t not like it, so I nodded.

“I thought you would appreciate it,” she said, beaming with pride, which switched quickly to concern. “Anyway, that was kind of a quick bath, wasn’t it? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Just a little… awkward. Feejee was there.”

“Oh,” she said. “I hope you weren’t rude.”

“What makes you think I would be rude?” I demanded to know.

“Um… I’m not sure how to put this,” Amaranth said. Her eyes flicked towards Two for support.

“Past experience?” Two suggested.

Amaranth sputtered out a little laugh, before covering her mouth with her hand.

“I don’t think I was rude,” I said. “It was just… weird.”

“Well, try not to let a little passing awkwardness ruin your friendship,” Amaranth said. “Not when you two have so much in common.”

“I’m not sure how much I want to have in common with her,” I said.

“Two, you have to brush your teeth and stuff before you go to bed?” Amaranth asked, though her eyes were on me.

“Yes,” Two said. “And shower.”

“Why don’t you go do that now?” Amaranth asked. She tilted her head down slightly so that she was peering past the rim of her glasses. “Put this on the door when you go,” she told Two, holding out a sock.

“Okay,” Two said. She spent a minute gathering her things, during which Amaranth kept me frozen under her glare. When the door finally closed, Amaranth went and locked it.

“You’re punishing me because I’m having second thoughts about Feejee?” I asked, now that her eyes were off me for a second.

“I’m punishing you because you were a sullen little brat all day,” she said. “You know those belts you bought?”

I nodded, thinking she was going to use them in place of my paddle. I wasn’t sure how well that would work. They weren’t as thick or heavy as Ian’s sword belt.

“Until further notice, you’re going to wear one of them every day, so you’ve got some place to hang your paddle,” she said.

I stared at her, not following.

“You’re going to keep your paddle with you at all times,” she said. “So that you don’t forget yourself as often… and so that Steff, or I, or Ian can take you aside and give you a little mood adjustment if you do. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said, ducking my head.

“Now, take off your robe and go get your paddle,” she said. “I hung it up on the wall inside your bed.”

I stuck my head through the opening in the curtains and saw it immediately, hanging by its thong from a peg.

“Got it,” I reported, as I pulled my head out from the enveloping darkness.

“Not yet, you haven’t,” Amaranth purred. “But you’d better believe you’re going to get it.”

She pulled out a desk chair and turned it around.

“Lean over and put your hands on this,” she said. “Make sure you’ve got a firm grip.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said, getting a hold on the top of the chair’s back.

“Ten strokes,” she said. “You count them off.”

Just ten? That didn’t seem like so much.

“Every time the chair moves, we start over,” she added, giving me a powerful whack with the studded side of the paddle just as I started to brace myself.

“Ah!” I cried. The chair scooted forward several inches as I did my best not to fall over it.

“Move the chair back and start over,” Amaranth said. “And add an extra one for not counting.”

This time she let me get ready, then hit me twice as hard.

“Ah!” I cried again. “One! One!” I added quickly.

“Better,” Amaranth said, giving me another.

“Two!”

I made it up to four before having to start again, and then to seven, and then only as far as three. Amaranth wasn’t using her customary skill, or rather, she was using it towards an unaccustomed end. Each blow seemed to line up perfectly with the last one, reinforcing the pain and adding to it.

Hot tears welled up in my eyes, and spilled out in humiliation when I was forced to start counting over again at one. This coupled with the raw and searing pain in my behind was enough to feed my arousal, but she was deliberately not letting that build or guiding me towards a release.

I made it to nine, and then braced myself for ten. When it didn’t come, I had a moment of confusion, and then she laid into me just as hard as she could. I didn’t move, but the shock kept me from saying “ten” until Amaranth had ordered, “Start over. Add one.”

“I can’t do it!” I cried.

“You can,” Amaranth said, and she paddled me again.

It was too much. How could she expect me to do any better than I already had? This was true punishment. There was no love in her voice. There was no love in the blows. Bit by bit, my heart was dying inside me.

Had I really been so bad? Of course I had. Obviously I had. “Bad” was what I was. It was in my blood. Hadn’t I known that all along?

“Count or I’ll keep adding,” she said.

“One,” I said. “One!”

“Good,” she said, with just the tiniest hint of a loving purr. My heart fluttered back to life inside my chest.

Then, miracle of miracles, she relented a bit. She was still using the studded side but with less force and more laxity in lining up the blows exactly. I started to relax and settle into it. I could feel the pleasure of the punishment now… not as acutely as I had other times, but I could feel it all the same.

I relaxed a bit too much on the eleventh stroke. My knees weakened a bit. I swayed. The right side of the chair moved, about half an inch.

“Did the chair just move?” Amaranth asked, before I’d even finished counting the blow.

“I… I…”

“Did it move?” Amaranth repeated.

It was too much. I’d made it to eleven… one stroke to go, and I’d blown it. I couldn’t start again. I couldn’t make it any higher than I already had. It wasn’t possible. It wasn’t.

“I’m sorry!” I sobbed, collapsing over the back of the chair. “I didn’t mean it! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

Amaranth’s hand touched my shoulder. A moment later, her other hand was gently stroking my ass.

“You can apologize without prompting, when it’s your butt on the line,” she said softly. “If you can learn how to do that when it isn’t… or if you can remember that your butt is on the line when I find out about it… then maybe we won’t have to do this again. Okay, baby?”

“O-okay,” I sputtered.

She helped me upright. I was shaking, weak with relief and gratitude… gratitude that it was over, that I didn’t have to start again, that she had lost none of her love for me. I threw my arms around her and sank into her, still sobbing.

“Shh,” she said, stroking my hair. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“I’m sorry, too,” she said. “I’m sorry I had to do that.” She gave me a pat on the bottom and swiveled us around, steering me towards the beds. “Get to bed. I’ll go fix the door and then join you in a bit… I want to have a little talk with Dee before I turn in.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said.

She put the paddle into my hand. I climbed through the curtains and hung it back up on the wall, then slid under the comforter and blanket, only to realize that I’d missed the top sheet. I moved that back and slipped beneath it, too. The sheets were cool, but not terribly unpleasantly so… it was a soothing coolness, and I knew they’d warm up soon enough.

It was hard to believe I was on the same bed as before. The foam pad made the hard, institutional mattress feel cushiony and soft. Amaranth and Two had done a wonderful job cocooning the place in, too. There were heavy fabric walls on three sides, with the actual wall on the other. I couldn’t spot any gaps, but there was still just enough light for me to sort of see by.

I closed my eyes and pulled the covers over my head, curling up and making a cocoon within the cocoon. I was starting to understand why Amaranth had thought I would like this arrangement, this enclosure. I was boxed in, secure.

The walls may only have been quilted fabric, but they kept out the world well enough.

A few moments later, Amaranth opened the flap.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to wake you. That took longer than I expected.”

“It’s okay,” I said, feeling a little confused. “I don’t think I was asleep.”

“I know you had a pretty horrendous time, this past week,” she said, climbing inside. “And I’ve been trying to give you some slack, because of it… but I think what you really need is a clean break. Last week was last week, this week is this week, and now that you’ve received a good and proper punishment, you can start the week fresh, not all moody and sullen.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said, snuggling eagerly up against her as she joined me under the covers. She started to climb on top of me, and I tried to turn over, so she could lay pressed up against my back like she had the night before, but she stopped me.

“Two’s already asleep,” she whispered. She was? When had she even come back? “And she seems like a pretty sound sleeper… so…”

She parted my legs with her own, and then… then one of my legs was between hers, and one of hers was between mine, and then she kind of flipped herself backwards and started moving, and I was moving with her and oh, fuck… oh, fuck. I’d never known that lesbians—and by extension, any two women—could do something like this.

Even if I could have explained away every other thing we’d done together as being something else, this was unmistakably and inarguably sex. She was moving against me and I was moving against her, and we were moving as one. My legs were spread, hers open but kind of locked around me, and she was rubbing the tidy little folds of her vulva against mine.

We were fucking. It wasn’t possible to sprawl out as much as we might have; Amaranth was sort of twisted on her side, and both of us were propped halfway upright, backs against the ends of the bed. I couldn’t imagine what the position would look like from the outside, with our bodies joined like dueling pliers… and then I did imagine it, and I couldn’t picture anything else.

Dirty, a voice whispered deep inside me. Dirty dirty dirty.

The voice was right, of course. We were rubbing the filthiest bits of ourselves against each other, smearing nastiness upon each other. Sure, Amaranth was technically “clean” no matter what, but could that really counteract the essential disgustingness of what we were doing?

I didn’t care.

It felt so good. I loved her so much.

She was coming, had come already, was coming again and again… and I was so close, so incredibly close, and somebody was crying, and… somebody was crying.

“Stop,” I breathed. “Stop it.”

“But you’re not…”

“Please,” I said.

We stopped and broke apart. The bed frame was still shaking, though the motion was now coming from above. Two was crying, the way only she could… the only way she knew how… like a newborn baby, in an eighteen-year-old body.

“Oh, Two!” Amaranth said. She jumped out of bed and then the beds shook again as her relatively heavy frame climbed the ladder.

Shit. How had we ever dreamed we could have done… all that… and not disturbed her?

“Two, honey, what’s wrong?” Amaranth asked.

Two said something, which I couldn’t hear, through the sobs and the muffling effect of the enclosure.

“Oh, no, honey, nobody was getting into your bed,” Amaranth said. “It’s just us in here.”

“They were!” Two insisted. “I felt it moving.”

“Oh, sweetie, honey, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Amaranth gushed. “That was us, down below. We didn’t think we’d wake you. I’m sorry.”

“Somebody was here,” Two said. “They took my bear.”

“No, honey, you had a bad dream,” Amaranth said. “You were asleep and the bed was moving, and…”

“Where’s my bear? Where’s Hand Wash?” Two asked. “He can’t move on his own. He’s just a teddy bear.”

“Look, he’s on the floor,” Amaranth said. She hopped down, landing rather loudly. “See? Here he is. He just slipped off the side when the bed was shaking, or when you woke up.”

“Somebody was climbing into my bed and I did not like it.”

“Did you see anybody?”

There was a pause, and I could picture Two’s face, her eyes twitching and moving around as she puzzled it out. I had no doubt that she knew somebody had been in her bed, based on her half-awake impressions, but now that she was completely awake those initial impressions were clearly in conflict with reality.

“I… I do not think so,” Two admitted. “But somebody was here.”

Amaranth sighed.

“Honey, if you can’t believe me that nobody was, will you believe me if I promise you it won’t happen again?”

“Yes,” Two said.

“Then I promise,” Amaranth. “I promise that will not happen again.”

“Okay. Good.”

“Are you okay now, Two?”

“Yes,” Two said.

“Goodnight, then.”

“Goodnight, Amaranth,” Two said. “Goodnight, Mack.”

“Goodnight, Two,” I said.

Amaranth came back to bed. This time, I noticed the glow of a nightlight when she opened the flap… another new addition to the room. I smiled when I saw it, because that was a sure sign Amaranth really did think of my room as home for the time being. Two had mystical darkvision and I could see pretty well in dim light, but Amaranth had poor enough vision without her glasses in any lighting.

Moving very slowly, she got back beneath the covers with me, and we very carefully arranged ourselves, me lying on my stomach and her covering me like another blanket, a protective insulating shell within the enveloping blankets, within the enclosure of the bed, within the locked room.

I hoped Two felt even half as safe as I did, in spite of our disturbance.


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13 Responses to “222: Asleep And Awake”

  1. Daezed says:

    I’ve been on the receiving end of a roommate ” rocking the bunk,” though I was on the bottom one. Can’t say I blame Two in the slightest! I woke up seasick from it; not a pleasant experience.

    Current score: 0
  2. Kate says:

    I’m at least half a lesbian (something like Mack, I guess), and scissoring never worked for me or any of my partners. Does somebody know somebody it -did- do something for? Diff’rent strokes for diff’rent folks and whatnot, but… I’ve asked around, too. I’ve never got “oh yeah, I totally love that!” or “yeah, it works for me” or “… hmmm… well, yeah, but it’s not the same” or any of it. Just “No. Lesbians don’t do that. It doesn’t work.”

    Current score: 0
    • Pamela says:

      It would have worked for me when I was Mack’s sexual age, but not for long. I’m not sure on that, though. I think I only attempted scissoring once. Nothing.

      Current score: 0
    • ElectricHarpsichord says:

      Yeah, scissoring sucks. I met one couple who’d managed to orgasm from it, but that was after hours of trying; they said that it’s possible, but waaay too difficult. Especially when other methods work better and quicker.

      Current score: 1
  3. pedestrian says:

    Frankly, I would suspect that it’s more a male porn delusion. Maybe if the two women were sharing a doubled dildo, might be more realistic. But to be honest lesbians do not discuss with me their preferences.

    Come to think of it women in general seem to be uncomfortable about the subject of sex in my presence. I am beginning to suspect Alberta must have been talking to her sister and friends about some of my preferences when I am not around. Would explain some of the judgemental-glares-askance when I walk into a room of suddenly quiet females.

    Oh, and TWO made a snarky funny:“What makes you think I would be rude?” I demanded to know.

    “Um… I’m not sure how to put this,” Amaranth said. Her eyes flicked towards Two for support.

    “Past experience?” Two suggested.

    Current score: 5
  4. MadnessMaiden says:

    Scissoring over clothes has worked for me. Back then I was too shy to try underneathe.

    Current score: 0
  5. Arkeus says:

    Dammit, there goes the good old loathsome Amaranth, always eager to dismiss everyone else’s opinions as irrelevant in her quest for what she perceives as goodness.

    Current score: 3
  6. Rendia says:

    Never done it, never been with a woman at all, but I know it feels amazing when my boyfriend puts his thigh against me and moves that back and forth.

    Current score: 4
  7. Anthony says:

    That makes me wonder. How does Two fall asleep? Does she get tired and drift off like humans do? Or does she just sort of… switch her conscious mind off, because sleeping is what she’s supposed to be doing?

    Current score: 4
    • Ryzndmon says:

      Two was designed to emulate human biological functions, so that she can generate her own magic energy. Therefore, she eats, excretes, breathes, and sleeps. She has mentioned sleeping standing up when her maker forgot to put her away. I believe that sleeping is just another biological function she mimics to regenerate herself and her energy.

      Current score: 4
  8. Cadnawes says:

    Hi, I am one of the three lesbians on the planet this works for, evidently. Or, actually, I think I might be older than many of you. Those who began sex before the internet existed often had to just experiment and see what worked, sometimes in what seems now like an information vacuum. Anyway, friction is great, especially in conjunction with good kisses and contact with other body parts at the same time. It is a time consuming endeavor, sure, but that in itself may be its highest selling point. I cannot believe I shared that, but hey, I felt I had to defend the methods of the pre toy revolution days. 😉

    Current score: 9
  9. Zdawg says:

    There’s certainly a gap between physical and mental orgasms. It depends on your state of mind. If you get worked up enough you can cum from any thing. Which is what kink is for; exploring alternatives.

    Current score: 3
  10. zeel says:

    I couldn’t spot any gaps, but there was still just enough light for me to sort of see by.

    Still unable to admit she has darkvision…

    Current score: 1