Morning wood

The morning sun crept through the purple curtains like a guilty intruder, casting soft light over Stocking’s plush-covered bedroom. The warmth tugged at Brief’s senses, urging him out of the restless daze he could barely call sleep.

His eyelids fluttered open.

There was weight on his chest. Warmth. Pressure. Softness.

Then movement.

Bounce.

His eyes shot wide open.

Stocking was on top of him.

Straddling his waist, still in her nightwear — an oversized shirt that clung in all the right ways after a night of shared body heat and twisted sheets. Her thick thighs hugged his sides, and her huge breasts... oh god, they were right there. Pressed softly into his ribs, jostling gently with every bounce of her hips.

Bounce.

“Ah—ahh—!” Brief made a sound halfway between a gasp and a plea.

Stocking blinked sleepily down at him, her face still hazy with drowsiness, her mouth in a tiny pout.

“Mmnn… you’re awake now? I was trying to get up, but you’re so squishy…”

Bounce.

He couldn’t speak. His brain was out to lunch. Everything was warm and soft and crushing and wiggling.

From somewhere on the nightstand came a perfectly timed chime:

“A good guest should be gently awakened with affection. I thought this would be the most polite method.”

Brief turned his head to see Kuromi, her button eyes glinting innocently from her plush perch, as if she hadn’t just weaponized softness itself.

Stocking yawned and stretched, her hips rocking forward with the motion, accidentally grinding against Brief’s poor lap.

Bounce.

“Geez… what’s with your face?” she muttered, squinting down at him. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“I-I’m fine,” he wheezed, eyes glassy. “Just… good morning…”

She tilted her head. “You’re kinda red. Are you sick or something?”

Bounce.

“I’m—I’m fine!!” he squeaked, covering his face with both hands.

“He’s just overwhelmed by your morning beauty,” Kuromi added helpfully. “It would be rude not to reward his admiration with a proper good morning hug.”

“Oh yeah? That’s kinda cute,” Stocking mumbled.

Then—without warning—she collapsed forward with a sleepy sigh, wrapping her arms around Brief and smothering him into a full-body pillow hug.

His entire world became boobs.

Boobs and lavender-scented hair.

And that same sleepy, oblivious voice right above him murmuring: “...thanks for staying over, perv.”

Brief’s heart gave out a quiet thump.

Buried in the warm prison of Stocking’s embrace, Brief squirmed slightly, his voice muffled against her chest.

“C-Can you not call me a pervert…?” he managed to squeak out.

Stocking blinked. “Huh?” She lifted her head, pushing herself up slightly—though her breasts still lay heavily against his chest. “You are acting like a perv. You’ve been twitching under me like you’re about to explode.”

“I-I’m not!” he insisted, face crimson. “I can’t help it if you’re—! I mean—! You’re just—! It’s morning!”

Stocking blinked down at him for a moment, then her expression softened. She gave a tired little smirk, brushing a few strands of hair from his forehead. “You’re cute when you get all flustered, you know that?”

Brief blinked, stunned into silence.

She leaned in a little, letting her weight rest against him again, her voice quieter now, almost tender. “It’s not like I don’t notice when you look. I’ve noticed for a long time, dummy. But if it’s you…” Her tone dipped, playful. “I don’t really mind.”

Brief’s heart stopped. He could barely breathe.

Then, without warning, a calm voice chimed in from the side of the room:

“No one likes a pervert.”

Stocking paused. Her eyes narrowed.

Her smirk returned—but now with venom. She turned her head just slightly toward the plush on the nightstand. “Oh really?”

Then she rolled her eyes and looked back at Brief, now wearing her signature devilish grin. “Well, if no one likes perverts, I guess I’ll just have to retrain you.”

Brief tensed. “W-Wait—!”

Stocking’s smirk widened. “Yeah. That’s it. I’ll just punish you until you learn your lesson.”

She shifted her hips—accidentally (on purpose?) dragging her thigh across the very obvious tension in Brief’s lap.

“Discipline sharpens obedience,” Kuromi added sweetly.

Brief whined in helpless panic, his limbs stiff as boards beneath her. He tried not to move—tried not to feel anything—but that was nearly impossible with her body draped lazily over his, her warmth pressing into him from every side.

Then she leaned in.

Her lips brushed his ear, just barely, as she whispered in that low, velvety voice of hers. “You better not be getting hard under me, Brief…”

His breath caught in his throat. Too late.

Stocking chuckled, not noticing, just letting the words roll out with lazy threat. “If I feel anything poking me, you’re dead. No warning. No mercy. I’ll tie you up with your own nervous energy and make you suffer for it.”

She shifted just slightly, obliviously rubbing against him in a way that made his whole body scream.

“You’re a good boy though, right? You wouldn’t get off on your friend just waking you up…” she cooed, her breath ghosting over his skin like smoke. “That’d be pathetic. Dirty. Filthy…”

Brief shut his eyes tightly, clenching his fists at his sides.

Kuromi’s voice cut in sweetly from the top of the plush pile, tone as even as ever:

“Inappropriate arousal is a sign of weak discipline. Punishment is recommended.”

Stocking grinned against his cheek, her voice a little sing-song as she echoed the plush. “Mmm… punishment, huh? Now that has potential.”

Brief squeaked as Stocking suddenly sat up. Her eyes drifted downward, then slowly widened.

“Wait a second...” she muttered, then blinked. “Are you... seriously hard right now!?”

“I—! I-It’s not what you think!” Brief gasped, scrambling for the blanket, but it was already too late.

Stocking’s mouth dropped open in exaggerated horror. “Oh my God, you pervy little—! I told you not to get turned on by me!”

She threw her arms up in dramatic outrage, the oversized shirt she wore lifting just enough to reveal the underside of her thick thighs—and her bouncing, jiggling chest underneath. Her large breasts swayed wildly beneath the loose cotton, clearly braless, and made it near impossible for Brief to focus on anything else.

“You’re such a creep! That’s it!” she shouted. “Kuromi! What’s a good punishment for a little pervert who can’t keep his nasty thoughts to himself?!”

Without missing a beat, Kuromi’s soft voice echoed from the plush where she sat, perched innocently on the nightstand like a devilish angel.

“Perverts must serve. You will assist her in changing.”

Stocking froze. Then turned slowly toward Brief with the most evil grin he’d ever seen.

“Ohhh. Oh that’s good.”

Brief went pale. “W-What?! Change!? L-Like, help you change your—?!”

“Yes, genius. Clothes. I need to pick a new outfit anyway,” she huffed, flipping her legs over the edge of the bed and standing up with her hands on her hips, chest still wobbling from her tantrum. “Since you clearly enjoy watching me so much, let’s put those disgusting little hands to use.”

She leaned close, eyes narrowed in devious delight. “But don’t get any ideas. You’re helping because you're being punished. Not because you get to enjoy this.”

Brief’s legs were trembling under the sheets.

Kuromi’s voice chimed again, just barely holding back its amusement.

“Serving others is an excellent form of discipline.”

Stocking smirked. “You heard the plush. Let’s get to work, filthy boy.”

Brief was still clutching her oversized T-shirt like it was a holy relic, frozen in place and blinking rapidly. His eyes darted anywhere but her chest, which was impossible, because her chest was practically its own gravitational ****.

Stocking placed one hand on her hip, the other casually raking through her hair as she looked him over with that dangerous smirk of hers. “You heard the doll,” she said with mock sweetness. “Thoroughness is important.”

“I-I think she was just, uh, metaphorically speaking—!” Brief stammered.

“I never speak metaphorically.” Kuromi’s voice rang clear from the nightstand like a courtroom verdict.

Stocking's smirk sharpened. She crossed the room with deliberate steps, each one making her breasts subtly bounce with the sway of her bra. She stood in front of him, close enough that her scent — sugary, with a hint of something darker — clouded his brain.

“This is your punishment, remember?” she said, voice low and purring near his ear. “You got hard while spooning me, so now you gotta help me dress. Or undress. Whatever Kuromi feels like. No whining.”

“But—!”

She reached out and tapped his lips with one finger. “Shh. Don’t make it weird and help me put my new bra on.”

Brief stood there, trembling. Stocking just rolled her eyes and gave him a light push toward the dresser. “Get moving. Bra clasp’s in the back. Better figure it out, genius.”

Brief’s soul left his body.

He turned slowly, his hands shaking as he reached up. The clasp sat in the middle of her back like some final boss challenge in a game he wasn’t leveled high enough for.

He touched it—then paused.

Stocking didn’t move. She just raised an eyebrow. “What, you want me to do a twirl too? Hurry up.”

“Take your time. But not too much.” Kuromi added calmly.

Brief exhaled shakily.

Click.

The clasp popped free.

As the clasp came undone with a soft click, Brief froze again, hands hovering in limbo behind her back. His breath hitched. He couldn’t see anything — thank God — but he could feel the looseness of the fabric now, the weight of it soft against his knuckles. His imagination betrayed him instantly, painting mental pictures he couldn’t unsee.

Then Kuromi's voice chimed in again, perfectly level yet absolute in its authority:

“Perverts aren’t allowed to watch.”

Brief flinched like he’d just been found guilty in a trial. “I-I wasn’t! I swear I didn’t—!”

Stocking chuckled darkly, slowly turning her head to glance over her shoulder at him. Her cheeks were faintly pink, but her expression was pure mischief.

“Well, sounds like you need a handicap, perv.” She turned fully to face him — still clutching the front of her shirt to keep it against her chest — and reached over to the dresser. She pulled out a new bra, black and lacy with little purple bows on the straps, then shoved it into Brief’s hands.

“You’re gonna put this on me,” she said casually, “without looking. That’s your punishment. You made this weird, now you gotta finish what you started.”

“W-Wait, I can’t even see how—how am I supposed to—”

“You’ve got hands. Figure it out. And if you peek, I swear I’ll kill you.”

“Failure will not be tolerated. Accuracy is expected.” Kuromi added, like this was some kind of twisted exam.

Brief swallowed hard, his knees weak. He turned around, facing away as Stocking slipped her arms through the straps and pulled her long hair out of the way.

“I’m ready,” she said, voice low and amused. “Now come here, birthday pervert.”

He stepped in carefully, as if defusing a bomb, the bra held in his shaking hands like cursed treasure. He couldn’t see anything, but he could feel her body heat. Her bare back was right there, smooth and warm under his fingertips.

This was going to be the slowest, most embarrassing, most panic-inducing ten seconds of his life.

Brief held his breath as his fingers fumbled behind Stocking's back, trying to feel out the tiny metal hooks. His hands trembled, brushing her skin every now and then—each touch like a spark to his system. The lacy fabric felt like it belonged in a dream, not in his nervous hands. He finally managed to hook the clasp on the third try.

“…There. I think I got it,” he whispered, slowly pulling his hands back like he'd just completed a ritual.

He stood there, eyes still shut tight.

A moment passed.

Silence.

Then curiosity crept in, like a whisper in his brain.

Just a peek. Just to make sure it’s on right…

He cracked one eye open.

From this angle — standing just behind her — all he could see was her back, yes… but even like this, the sides of her breasts were spilling out from the bra, soft pale skin pressing against the black lace like it was barely containing her. The straps dug slightly into her shoulders, tugged taut by the impossible weight they were meant to hold.

Brief turned scarlet. His breath caught in his throat. His brain promptly short-circuited.

And then:

“You were instructed not to look.”

Kuromi’s voice sliced through the silence with the same grace and menace as a guillotine.

“Wha—! N-No I didn’t— I was just—!!”

Too late.

Stocking whipped around, her face flushed, her massive chest now fully cupped and straining against the bra. “YOU LOOKED?” she shouted, eyes wide in theatrical betrayal. “You filthy little—!”

SLAP!

Her hand smacked him across the cheek with a satisfying crack, sending his glasses lopsided.

“PERVERT!!”

Brief wobbled, clutching his burning cheek. “I-I just—wanted to check if—if it was secure—!”

“Oh, I’ll secure something for you,” she huffed, adjusting the bra straps with exaggerated fury. “I told you not to make it weird!”

“Perverts must be disciplined swiftly,” Kuromi added, still perched on her plush throne of stuffed animals.

Brief was still rubbing his cheek, stunned and red all over—part embarrassment, part arousal, part sheer sensory overload. Stocking’s glare lingered on him, arms crossed under her absurdly large chest, making the lacy new bra strain even harder as she huffed.

“Perverts must not be allowed to indulge in their impulses.”

Kuromi’s voice echoed through the room with unflinching composure.

“As punishment, you are forbidden from touching yourself for the rest of the day. Total abstinence. Not even a little squeeze.”

Brief nearly collapsed.

“W-What?! That’s—?!”

“Hmm…” Stocking tapped a finger against her lip, pretending to think it over. “Yeah, that sounds fair. In fact...” She leaned in close, her eyes glinting behind her bangs. “I insist.”

Her voice dropped an octave as she whispered right next to his ear.

“I want you to suffer, perv. I want you to ache. All. Day. Long.”

Her hot breath made his knees shake.

“But—! B-But I didn’t mean to look! It was just—!”

“Still looked.” She grinned, smug and merciless. “Now you’re cursed. A full day of pent-up frustration. No release. Not even a dream.”

Brief let out a tortured sigh, trying to cool his red face with both hands.

Stocking tilted her head, then gave a smirk so wicked it could melt steel.

“Oh, and by the way…” she began, circling him like a shark, “if I find out you’re gonna use any of this for your personal ‘fap material’ later…”

Brief blinked. “W-Wait, wh—?”

She stopped in front of him and leaned in, her breath brushing his ear as her voice dropped to a sultry whisper.

“You know. Like, that whole thing where you fumbled all over my bra with your clumsy little hands, blushing like an idiot while trying not to peek… even though I could feel how badly you wanted to. Or maybe that part where you got a full look at my tits from behind, overflowing even when I was turned away, huh?”

She grinned as he physically tensed up, practically vibrating with panic.

“Maybe you’re planning to slowly replay the way my boobs bounced in my shirt when I slapped you, over and over in your filthy little perv-brain...”

“I-I wasn’t—!”

“Maybe,” she drawled, biting her lip for show, “you’re thinking right now about how warm my body felt when I was lying on top of you this morning, and how I kept breathing on your neck, like some helpless little cuddle-bug.”

“PLEASE STOP—!”

“Oh no, pervert. You don’t get to beg now,” she said sweetly. “Because if I even suspect you used any of that as bedtime fap material...”

She leaned closer, her tone suddenly dangerous.

“…I’m telling Panty.”

Brief froze in horror.

Stocking pulled back with a victorious grin. “So keep it in your pants, pervert. Literally and mentally.”