foofybabykitten Posted July 16, 2022 Share Posted July 16, 2022 25 minutes ago, dmavn said: Honestly, I kept waiting for her to have to use the bathroom and realize she can’t get the sleeper off herself..? Based off the ending, maybe Sheila will stay for dinner and perhaps have to help Emily out so she can potty? ? Babysitter unlocked? Link to comment
D503 Posted July 16, 2022 Share Posted July 16, 2022 Oh wow, amazing chapter - I had anxiety just reading it on behalf of Emily. I really hope Sheila is discrete even if she finds she enjoys the "power". I love the paragraph about the trickster - a kind of consensual gaslighting that keeps things fun and gets people out like of their shell, but does introduce a certain element of risk. Link to comment
Little_Mouse Posted July 17, 2022 Share Posted July 17, 2022 Yes another amazing chapter ?? Is a little worried about whether Sheila in her eagerness to please her own babysitter feelings humiliates Emily and believe she is a 24/7 ab with a brain like a minor who needs fulltime supervision and care until “mommy” is home again. But it would be so much fun ?? ? Pure Emily ? Link to comment
kerry Posted July 17, 2022 Share Posted July 17, 2022 23 hours ago, Mee said: littoney Oh dear: "litany" must be another one of those words for you. ? While I am on this, I should probably mention that it is "unfazed," not "unphased." 23 hours ago, Mee said: More importantly, did Emily live here now? Curiosity: if she knew Joyce was away, had her own key, and did not know Emily lived there, why did she knock?? God, I love this story! And now Sheila knows pretty much everything. She seems to be about to assume the role of babysitter once again, but this time during the day with Emily in full command of her faculties. I do hope that Sheila is as absolutely trustworthy as Joyce thinks she is—though the fact that she found herself sneaking around her boss's home and learning her secrets begs otherwise... Link to comment
diaperboymi Posted July 17, 2022 Share Posted July 17, 2022 AWESOME chapter!!!!! Well... the cat's definitely out odd the bag now??? Wonder how Sheila will handle this. Could ne a lot of fun ?????? Link to comment
YourFNF Posted July 18, 2022 Share Posted July 18, 2022 On 7/16/2022 at 12:43 PM, Mee said: E…Emily?” Sheila retracted her hand and turned away from the door. “Have…have you had your dinner yet?” No.. Bad Sheila... Massive privacy violation and stepping on something you have no buisnness being involved in... Something tells me this is more than simple curiosity though... ?? Link to comment
Mee Posted July 18, 2022 Author Share Posted July 18, 2022 On 7/16/2022 at 2:46 PM, dmavn said: Honestly, I kept waiting for her to have to use the bathroom and realize she can’t get the sleeper off herself..? Worry not, for Emily is a smart cookie. If the sleeper couldn't be taken off by herself, I don't think she would've been able to get it on, lol. However! Lest we not forget that Joyce made sure to have at least one of those kinds of outfits made...! On 7/16/2022 at 7:50 PM, D503 said: Oh wow, amazing chapter - I had anxiety just reading it on behalf of Emily. I really hope Sheila is discrete even if she finds she enjoys the "power". I love the paragraph about the trickster - a kind of consensual gaslighting that keeps things fun and gets people out like of their shell, but does introduce a certain element of risk. Uh-oh. Something may have been awakened in Sheila... With Joyce and her personal "demons," it's really just her desires being allowed to fester. Though I think only with time Emily's growing herself and finding a better fit with her "role" that allows her to rise to the challenge! Thanks for the comment! On 7/17/2022 at 5:48 AM, Little_Mouse said: Yes another amazing chapter ?? Is a little worried about whether Sheila in her eagerness to please her own babysitter feelings humiliates Emily and believe she is a 24/7 ab with a brain like a minor who needs fulltime supervision and care until “mommy” is home again. But it would be so much fun ?? ? Pure Emily ? I'm sure Sheila would be respectful of boundaries. Probably. But of course, I can totally see an angle with Sheila justifying all of this as more direct assistance for her boss...! Thank you for the comment! 23 hours ago, kerry said: Oh dear: "litany" must be another one of those words for you. ? While I am on this, I should probably mention that it is "unfazed," not "unphased." Curiosity: if she knew Joyce was away, had her own key, and did not know Emily lived there, why did she knock?? God, I love this story! And now Sheila knows pretty much everything. She seems to be about to assume the role of babysitter once again, but this time during the day with Emily in full command of her faculties. I do hope that Sheila is as absolutely trustworthy as Joyce thinks she is—though the fact that she found herself sneaking around her boss's home and learning her secrets begs otherwise... Blegh, you caught me again! More mistakes that I will not (knock on wood) be repeating again! Thank you for putting my feet on the fire with this stuff, haha. Slightly embarrassing, but I'd rather it be mentioned than ignored...! As for Sheila knocking, I don't necessarily have any diabolical reason for that. I figured it as knocking just because. Common courtesy sort of thing, or following through on a habit regardless of the situation? Yeah, I think Sheila's just about 90-95% in on the know now. Only thing that's left I think is to catch her temporary charge in a diaper? But given everything that's happened by this point, in business terms, it's probably just a formality. While there may be some advocates for Sheila, I do think she needs a reminder to restrain herself. Snooping for the sake of one's own curiosity I can't say counts as good intentions. 23 hours ago, diaperboymi said: AWESOME chapter!!!!! Well... the cat's definitely out odd the bag now??? Wonder how Sheila will handle this. Could ne a lot of fun ?????? Thank you very much! Yes, how will things go with Sheila? With Joyce?! So much suspense! 1 hour ago, YourFNF said: No.. Bad Sheila... Massive privacy violation and stepping on something you have no buisnness being involved in... Something tells me this is more than simple curiosity though... ?? Somebody better get the spray bottle. If corner time and stern talking-to's do it for Emily, surely something similar will work for the secretary? And yeah, it always starts out as curiosity, doesn't it? I'm sure Emily felt something similar at the start...! Though, just maybe, at least for Sheila, she may have yet to be completely honest with herself... Thank you for always leaving your thoughts! 1 1 Link to comment
YourFNF Posted July 18, 2022 Share Posted July 18, 2022 4 hours ago, Mee said: Somebody better get the spray bottle. If corner time and stern talking-to's do it for Emily, surely something similar will work for the secretary? And yeah, it always starts out as curiosity, doesn't it? I'm sure Emily felt something similar at the start...! Though, just maybe, at least for Sheila, she may have yet to be completely honest with herself... Thank you for always leaving your thoughts! Secretary winds up as the big sister? Link to comment
D503 Posted July 19, 2022 Share Posted July 19, 2022 Or even a "daddy" disciplinarian Link to comment
dmavn Posted July 19, 2022 Share Posted July 19, 2022 If the sleeper couldn't be taken off by herself, I don't think she would've been able to get it on, lol. actually, i have one of those locking sleepers from babypants.com that because of the shape of the teeth on the puller can be zipped up but not down… Link to comment
Mee Posted July 19, 2022 Author Share Posted July 19, 2022 20 hours ago, YourFNF said: Secretary winds up as the big sister? Gasp. Sheila strikes with a big sisterly motive?! 15 hours ago, D503 said: Or even a "daddy" disciplinarian Dare we even ask the question whether Joyce is being firm enough with Emily or not... Or at the very least, maybe she's left to her own devices a bit too often...! 3 hours ago, dmavn said: If the sleeper couldn't be taken off by herself, I don't think she would've been able to get it on, lol. actually, i have one of those locking sleepers from babypants.com that because of the shape of the teeth on the puller can be zipped up but not down… That's sort of what I was going for in this case. That being said, it's very funny and cool to think that some folks might have just as much or maybe even a slightly better understanding of the story's continuity than I do...! 1 Link to comment
Mee Posted August 28, 2022 Author Share Posted August 28, 2022 41 - Eat your Veggies “Hon?” She called from her vanity, fussing just to make sure that every hair fell in line. Anything less than perfection was sure to leave a bad look on the company. Professionals needed to have standards, after all. A male voice carried over from the other end of the quaint apartment. “Yeah?” A gust of breath left her mouth, sending her last few hairs askew yet again. She knew that tone in his voice. The ‘I’m playing games right now but totally listening, but not actually’ voice. Fine. She stood from the bench, deciding to solve whatever was left in her hair in the car. A brisk walk in heels had her peeking her head in the living room shortly enough. And unsurprisingly the TV was in use; broadcasting screams, explosions and gunshots of a much more brutal world. “Is this one that you can pause?” she asked while she watched, hardly understanding a single thing going on. Video games never were her strong suit. She grew up alongside them with her cousins, sure, but it was the kind of media she coexisted with rather than mingled with. Though, she did remember that one about managing a team of cute little monsters to be kind of interesting… “Nope,” her fiance said without turning his head, swiveling away with his thumbs at the sticks on his controller. “But~!” But? His girlfriend watched him do something, which involved a change of pace in the game. It suddenly looked like they were back at some kind of menu. No more flashes and booms; blood and gore. Finally though she earned his attention. “But I can always quit?” he grinned. “I’m that special to you, huh?” she grinned right back. “Of course you are!” he puffed out his chest all manly-like. Then his head scanned her from head to toe. Not only because he was smitten with herself and her looks, but also because, “Ah, need to go out for work?” “Uh-huh,” she spoke with indifference. “It’s important and Ms. Summers isn’t available to do it herself right now.” “Sheil, can’t it wait until the weekday?” Greg sighed not from selfishness, but the upset of having to see his girlfriend take up her own time on a weekend. “She wouldn’t mind it getting done on a Monday, right?” “Maybe,” almost certainly, she could imagine getting it done on a Monday. “But I have to go to her house directly. It’s something she left on her work computer.” Greg finally rose from the couch, sharing the doorway with her as they touched foreheads. “Okay…” And just from his look alone, Sheila knew what he was thinking. “Stop. Don’t think that. Ms. Summers is good to me, Greg. Good to us.” “I know, I know,” he quietly hushed. “Still doesn’t mean I like seeing you have to do this stuff on a weekend?” “It’s because I want to,” Sheila kissed him. Want to, yes, but certainly a soft ‘need to’ as well. Work undone that was sitting around at such an opportune moment was simply irresistible bait to the woman. Leaving an empty chair halfway pushed out from the table, leaving the curtains only partly closed or partly open on a sunny or rainy day. Letting the dishwasher clean all your utensils when you could just do it three times as fast. Yet Greg wasn’t the fiance for nothing, narrowing her thoughts down immediately. “I think it’s because you think you need to.” Sheila pursed her lips, quiet for a moment. “Maybe.” “Just maybe, huh?” he chuckled. “Whatever, I won’t stop you. And yes, your boss does sound like a good person. Just remember that you matter to me too, you know?” “And you matter just as much to me.” Another kiss. “Can you make plans tonight?” Sheila looked hopeful. “I don’t wanna leave you here without anything to do. And maybe if I finish up early I can come and join you?” Greg thought for a minute. “Actually, Kevin and a few others were planning to meet at a bar a little down the street tonight for drinks? We could join them?” Sheila exhaled with a smile. Good. Boyfriend taken care of. “Good. Go join them. Send me the address too. I’ll see if I can make it once I’m done?” “Sounds like a plan!” WOOF! Startled, Sheila looked around in a slight panic, face to face with a panting tongue lazily hanging out of their third roommate’s face. Wagging tail and all. Crouching down, Sheila frowned at the dog. “Look at you!” her voice fell into coos and chuckles. “Woosa cutie scaring me like that? Who? Who?” she ran her hands through his golden fur, taking in all his furry softness before it was time to go. “Baxter should be fine for the night,” Greg took to stroking the dog as well. “Won’t be long.” “I hope not?” Sheila laughed, “unless the plan was to get blackout drunk and make it an overnight stay at the bar?” Baxter barked again. “Shhh!” Sheila playfully stuck a finger up. “Don’t talk like that!” she accused her boyfriend. “He understands more than you think?” Defensively, his hands were raised. “I didn’t say anything! That was you!” Maybe, but Sheila dodged the blame, standing back up. “Okay, sounds like we’ve got a plan?” “That we do!” WOOF! Collectively this time the couple shushed him. It hardly did a thing to damper the pep in his step and the wag in his tail. “Oh–” a thought struck Greg and the smile left his face. “Uhm, one other thing.” A brow was raised. “Yes…?” “You…might be hearing from my mom again tomorrow.” “What?” Sheila gasped tiredly and Greg tried not to flinch. “Again? We just talked last week though?” “I know, I know…” he sighed. “She’s just restless, babe. I promise, it’ll stop soon.” “I hope so…” Sheila frowned. She knew it, and Greg knew. They were both okay with it and preferred it. But even so, Sheila still said it aloud. “I don’t want a baby, Greg. I like what we have,” she brushed her hand against their dog. “This is enough.” “And I feel the same way?” Greg spoke like his conviction had been called into question. “My mom wants to be a grandmother, that’s all.” Calling that ‘just it’ was definitely a bit of an underestimation. Parents trying to append “grand” to the title were a scarily driven bunch. Greg’s mom included. Too much hustle and bustle. Not a fan of the high-maintenance with all the non-verbalness. Maybe somedays Ms. Summers was a bit nonverbal herself with her moods, but maybe Sheila accepted it because it was already her job. And, she did like Ms. Summers. Who could like a baby? Maybe if she could skip to the speaking-and-listening phase… There wasn’t a single family gathering or event nowadays that didn’t involve bringing the talk of having kids up. Subtle nods or direct questioning, depending on how much she had to drink that evening. “Maybe we shouldn’t get married,” Sheila openly mused, “just so we can keep using that as an excuse?” “Maybe it would be,” Greg chuckled, “but I think I can take a little harassment from my mom if it means we get to share the same last name?” They touched hands. “Okay, fine,” she grinned from ear to ear. “I think I can too. But anyway, wanna come see me off?” Greg followed her to the door. “Though, it is a little funny, you know?” “What’s funny?” Sheila asked as she slipped on her jacket. “I mean, you work as a secretary now, and as a kid, didn’t you do a lot of looking after your cousins? You dote on Baxter a lot?” “Yeah?” And? “Well, Sheil,” Greg choked down a laugh. “I hate to say it, but I think you’re kind of a natural-born babysitter at heart?” While it was intended to be a ‘gotcha’ kind of moment, Sheila stuck her finger high with a eureka. “Ah! See?” She came in for one last kiss. “Babysitter.” Not a mommy. And with that, she departed for the Summers’ household. “Have…have you had your dinner yet?” Sheila asked out on a limb so strandily and shaky from the original tree of reason; the entire basis for why she was even here. Her heart was beating nervously, questioning her words that came off the cuff as soon as they came to mind. It was so wholly uncharacteristic of her, and yet it was a part that she simply did not want to ignore. “Dinner…?” For once they were on the same wavelength, which was wondering for what reason Sheila was asking something like that. She said it. She actually said it. I just asked that…I just asked my boss’ girlfriend that… “...Right…” Sheila confirmed, though had absolutely zero idea on how to follow up with it. Dinner? Wasn’t Sheila here for files? Emily wanted to express confusion, yet she remained awkward, lest it was something so four-dimensionally obvious that she was somehow the clueless one. So she opted for cautious honesty. “Uhh…no…” Her hand wandered to the cuff of her sagging hood. “Joyce usually cooks, and…I was sleeping before you got here…” She caught her. Red-handed. Sheila had made a gamble and she’d been validated. Justified. Her foot was halfway in the door and the urge to pry it wide open took the momentum. “Lunch? You had lunch, right?” Emily blinked. Lunch too? A slight feeling of unease was sprouting in her stomach. Was this second grade already again so soon? “...I wasn’t all that hungry…?” And why? Why was she answering so honestly? Sheila did Joyce things, not Emily things! She was mere seconds from leaving, and yet the whole situation hit a stunning reverse when an unbroken chain of eye-contact ensued. In that same moment, Emily silently watched Sheila step away from the door. Back inside. “And were you planning on making something?” No? “Yes…?” Was this really her business? “Like what?” Sheila asked. Momentum. A groove. Slowly, carefully, the rhythm was being found. “...” Emily told herself that was going to make herself something, though the same was said right around lunch time as well… She quietly looked over at the entrance to the kitchen, like tonight’s meal had been scribed on a piece of paper for her. What did they even have for food? To make actual food? It’d been so long since Emily made herself anything. As much as a deli meat sandwich maybe, but that’s when Joyce was working. Either that or reheating leftovers. “Emily?” Sheila called. Confidently. Expectantly. “I…a…a sandwich. I’m not that hungry, so…” “You’re not that hungry?” Sheila repeated, lacing her words with a feigned surprise, “Even when you didn’t have lunch?” There was no surprise, just doubt. And in trying to pretend like her face wasn’t feeling warm, Emily’s feet were unconsciously starting to fidget. The cornered girl resorted to her best, strongest and most effective tactic. An unbeatable one, at that. “...I…I don’t know…” Sheila quietly nodded. I won’t be going to the bar tonight. “Can I take a look?” Sheila asked, but her heels were already off and she was stepping back onto the hardwood floor. She was already midway to the kitchen before Emily could stammer something back. “W-wait! I…really, Sheila I’m fine! So…!” What did they even keep in the fridge? Suddenly it was a blur. She looked inside it every day. Hell, she looked in it before her afternoon nap! But the moment she was under a magnifying glass and was dealing with a person she was already wary of, caught in an embarrassing outfit, no less, she could hardly even remember if they kept ice cubes in the freezer. All she knew of right then was what they didn’t have. No ice cream. Bleh. Joyce liked to kid, but she also liked to follow up on her rules. Stupid rules. They rarely froze their meat; Joyce got it fresh when she was ready for it. They had vegetables, but that was it. She didn’t mind stuff like that– Correction, she did mind. A particular prejudice for beets, specifically, but that was a totally separate issue. Back to the thought at hand; what could you do with vegetables alone? A bottle of wine that Joyce liked was in there too? That hardly made for a dinner, though… And as much as Emily wanted to ask why her girlfriend’s secretary was currently snooping through their fridge, she was simply too busy bunching up her footie pajamas trying to muster the courage that could let her actually ask those things. Question the person that Joyce trusted so vehemently. Trusted enough to be their personal diaper procurer. The secretary went straight for the fridge once her feet crossed the threshold. She stopped only for a moment to admire the page torn out of a coloring book. A small smile escaped her once she saw that. Cute. Emily absolutely did this. Sheila’s eyes scanned up and down the tidy and clean interior, looking over the assortment of things to work with. No meat. Vegetables. Wine? Sheila could feel Emily’s presence behind her and the memories of her at a particular hotel one particular night. Definitely no drinks tonight. The fridge was closed and Sheila moved on to the cabinets. “Sh…Sheila? I…I really appreciate it, but I’m all set…” “Didn’t you say Joyce normally cooked for you?” The committed woman asked with her back to the rest of the room. “It’s no trouble, really. I can cook too?” And Emily couldn’t? Well…maybe some questions were better left unanswered. She “cooked” sandwiches confidently. Maybe she wasn’t a cook. An assembler at best. But that wasn’t Sheila’s business, and neither was Emily’s nursery. And yet, while Emily disillusioned herself into thinking there was still a thin veil protecting her and Joyce’s darkest secret, Sheila was busy trying to snip at the last few threads still spacing Emily from the diapers. Busy with that and formulating a dinner. To Sheila, it simply wasn’t her boss’ house anymore. It wasn’t some silly, boring job to go run after some digital files. The clock had been wound back to a high school Friday night. Her aunt and uncle were on date night and her sweet baby cousins had become her responsibility for the night. Pasta…? Sheila held the box of carbs in her hands, contemplating. Spaghetti needed a sauce… “Emily, does Joyce…?” Then she stopped. Would Emily know? “Sorry? What was that?” All Sheila did was smile. “Sorry, nevermind!” One more cupboard later and there was in fact a can of sauce. The silly and ignorant Emily told herself that Sheila was just doing prep to set the girl up for the rest of the night. You know, what a secretary would do. Set up meetings, set up schedules and appointments. Set up the beginnings of dinner… But one pot of heating water later and Emily was having serious doubts. Things had clearly gone beyond what should and should not have been condoned, yet only after the damage had been done was Emily finally finding the will to speak and confront. “Sheila…?” On a dime Sheila’s head was turned. “What’s wrong?” What wrong, hon? Damn! She nearly just said that? Honey? Sweetie…? No, she probably shouldn’t say that, she shouldn’t. She wouldn’t… Was this water boiling already? It was starting to feel a little hot… Emily interrupted the woman’s thoughts. “You don’t have to make me anything… I appreciate it, but I’m all set…really.” And yet Sheila casually shrugged, searching for a can opener. Crap. Sheila had already sunk her fangs into this and her hold was getting stronger by the second. Every moment of uninterrupted authority was another ounce added to a crushing case of justification. Poor Emily simply didn’t have the strength to fight this woman off from her own convictions and conclusions. With a utensil resting in her hand, Sheila looked at the girl from across the kitchen. “I’m here, Emily, I might as well? Besides, you’d get your PJ’s dirty if you tried cooking like that…” And her comment made Emily’s eyes wander down. But finally, something to work with! The moment she opened herself up for an attack, Emily’s heart skipped a beat. The pot calling the kettle black, as they say? It was an off-moment to be feeling it, but maybe a piece of Joyce’s wit had finally rubbed off onto her…! With an inkling of inexplicable trepidation, one adult said to the other, “But…you’re dressed too?” Sheila paused and Emily did her best not to smile. Easy! Victory! Sheila’s empire of logic was failing and everything she assumed and insisted on was now but a fallacy, all because the silly secretary had made the critical error of wearing a formal office jacket to a home visit. She wouldn’t dare risking sauce on her work attire! Why Emily felt an almost competitive nature, or the unspoken idea that she somehow needed to “earn” her freedom or independence from this woman was absolutely beyond her. And yet, if either of them could read each other’s minds, they’d understand quite quickly just how many unspoken assumptions and vulnerable feelings were influencing the other. And while the corners of Emily’s mouth were ready to jump with glee, two cinderblocks of blind ignorance came crashing down on them. “Thank you for reminding me,” Sheila chuckled, making a show of her appreciative smile. Off came the jacket that Emily foolishly thought to be the linchpin that’d do her in, dressing down to just her sweater that certainly could afford a battle scar or two from a war on tomato-saucy terror. She disrobed just as easily as Emily could have changed into something else. Something that Sheila couldn’t have just used the same exact reasoning against. Just like that, the self-invited woman was back to taking charge. Clueless now with what to do, Emily quickly disappeared from the room, phone slipping out of her pajama pocket. Joyce…pick up! “So if you’re not comfortable with it,” Carol steered them up a short set of brick-laid stairs, “There’s nothing wrong with using a fake first name or anything like that, you know?” “There isn’t?” Joyce gave her friend a weird look. “I can’t say I’ve ever gone under an alias or anything before,” she chuckled. Well, maybe a retired chairman on paper, once or twice… Carol shrugged. “I don’t bother with it anymore, but I was a little cautious at first. This sphere of business is a bit more…’underground,’ I guess. You don’t hear much about it publicly for a reason. Just want to be mindful of…you know,” Carol looked her up and down, like Joyce’s fortune was stored in her looks. “Thank you for warning me,” Joyce smiled, reaching the front of the restaurant. It did look busy inside, yet a quite obvious sign still called it out as reserved. This many people came for something like this? But now that they were here and Joyce knew it was real, she was feeling something like the kind of nerves Emily got whenever she was meeting new people. “And…also,” she stole another glance at the people inside. “Should I…erm, prepare myself for anything?” “Pre…pare?” Carol didn’t share the same thought, hence her confusion. Darn. Did she really have to say it? “Like…stuff? People showing things…? Or…wearing stuff?” Stuff that wasn’t normal clothes? Carol’s eyes widened. “Oh!” she laughed aloud, patting Joyce’s just slightly flustered shoulder. “No! No! Not at all, I promise! This is strictly about networking. Nothing like that is allowed here. Definitely not.” More than anything, it was a relief to hear. By now, it was safe to say Joyce was hardly a stranger to the ideas of diapers, bottles, cribs, and playpens. Rather, a beneficiary, even, as long as it somehow involved Emily. That all being said, Joyce in her own estranged bubble that she trapped Emily in with her somehow had virtually no understanding or concept of other kinks or “niche” interests. While it could be argued she was hypocritical or ignorant to have no interest or hold reservations for anything else, that’s simply how it was. But maybe that could stand to change. Inside the restaurant they finally went, shifting from crickets playing under the night sky and to a bustling crowd of appetizers and conversations. Joyce’s eyes immediately wandered to spot the crowd. Size it up. See who she was dealing with. It was a formal kind of event, but not overly formal. Casual, just maybe. Needless to say, her first thought was probably if she brought Emily. Dress her in something that had stripes or a little bit of color. Stripes played up the mood and color magnified her eyes. Anything to bring out a little something in her. “Joyce?” Carol tugged on her arm, ending the daydream. She discreetly pointed nearby. “We need to go sign in.” “Oh, right!” Joyce apologetically chuckled. “Sorry! Just people-watching.” “Sizing everybody up?” Carol asked as they walked up to a receptionist podium. But Joyce didn’t get a chance to answer before a new conversation began. “Hi there!” The man behind the desk gave a small wave before picking up a weighty pen. “Who am I signing in for?” “Carol Baker?” Carol, clearly not adverse to the idea of using her own name, offered. “And this is my plus-one.” Carol then raised her brows, leaning in at the entrepreneur with a grin. “Her name is…?” “Joyce,” Joyce decided, bold and brave enough to wear her wallet on her sleeve rather than hide away. Besides, if there was any merit to this and something did actually go somewhere, moving on from a fake name was certainly an awkward foot to start on. “Last name?” he then asked, and Joyce hesitated. “‘S’,” Carol jumped right in, finishing for her. Apparently it was of no issue, because moments later they both had their own name cards. “Thanks for that…” Joyce muttered, adjusting how the card looked on herself as she walked. “Of course!” Carol chuckled, taking the lead back to the main area. Though, quite not so tactfully she added, “Oh! But, maybe as a thanks, say if…I don’t know…you find something that might be worth investing in?” Dollar signs flashed in her eyes. “Don’t forget about who brought ya here?” Cute. Not quite Emily cute, but cute. Joyce smiled regardless. “Yes, I will most certainly remember…” she chuckled. “So…what’s the best way to do this?” “Well first,” Carol paused as she finally started to survey the crowd herself, “Ah! Let’s go meet him!” Him? After navigating an aisle carved by the backs of people standing in circles and chatty cliques that were forming, Carol tapped on the back of a broad-shouldered individual. Just as he turned, the first person he saw was Joyce, then noticed Carol just a few inches below. “Oh! Carol!” “Logan!” The pair hugged just briefly before separating. “Ah– One second?” he apologized, turning back to his group. “Sorry, I’ll be back later to discuss! I just need to catch up with someone.” Waving as he left, Joyce, Carol and now Logan in accompaniment found an empty booth by the side. “First, this is my friend Joyce,” Carol warmly introduced and Joyce just smiled. “She’s not new to business, but as far as things like what goes on here, that’s a bit different.” Logan nodded as he listened, scratching his black void of close-shaven beard for just a moment. “Uh-huh? Well, first,” Logan stretched his hand across the table, giving Joyce a firm, yet reasonable shake. “Joyce, thank you so much for coming. I know that it can sometimes be a little strange or intimidating attending stuff like this. So first and foremost I want to assure you: it is just business. All talk, nothing else.” “Don’t worry,” Carol cut in, “I made sure to tell her that.” Another trained laugh left Joyce’s mouth, holding a hand to her mouth. “Jeez, you’re making me sound like I’m just in it for the money…!” And everyone laughed, but then an internal panic started to rise. Wait, what if they were just in it for the money…? Did that mean she just outed herself as someone supposedly in it for the kinks, too?! “I–” she stammered, “I mean, I guess I’d be lying if I said that investing wasn’t my main interest…” Logan held out a hand, as if to halt her words of self-doubt. “No, no, really, I understand. Carol’s the same way.” “I am,” Carol gingerly included. “I just don’t want you or anyone new to things like these feeling nervous. Everyone has their reasons for associating with this, just like with anything else. Even if you were here just for the potential profits, which hey– money is money, I completely understand. That being said, any kind of capital to help business or services related to what these circles have an interest in is always welcome.” In other words, not a single investor had to actually like the kink they were helping pay for. Profit was profit and nothing else had to come of it. A truly blind investment, but by no means was it unheard of. After all, Joyce could hardly imagine that every shareholder of a dying movie theater chain believed in the actual product just as much as their primary hope of just turning a personal, baseless and speculative profit. “Well, thank you for assuring me,” Joyce nodded appreciatively, trying not to let her eyes wander. All this red-tape talk was starting to make her admittedly curious. “So…how do I know who…uhm…has an idea?” As far as she could tell, Joyce saw no difference between either the givers or receivers. Her scenes that were few and far between nowadays were the kinds that rented out properties and had designated stands and displays. All she could see here were handshakes and business cards. “I was hoping there’d be some kind of system like that by now…” Carol passively added, implying this apparently wasn’t an unpopular opinion. Logan could only half-grin apologetically. “Okay, I think you might be in the same boat as Carol, here. But, hopefully you might be a bit more receptive than her, Joyce?” “Bold of you to talk about me like I’m not sitting right here?” she frowned at him. Joyce watched with a tinge of amusement. Logan’s face didn’t have much to offer in the give-a-fudge department. “Sorry, Carol! You started it!” “Well,” Carol was scooting her way to the edge of the booth, “I suppose I shall make it so. Joyce, I’m going to get a drink and start meandering, alright? If you spot me, feel free to be my shadow!” “Will do!” Joyce saw her off, now just with Logan. “If you don’t mind me asking, how’d you two meet?” Logan watched his friend disappear before sitting up straight again. “Oh, uhm…through her husband, actually. Nothing big!” Yes, through her husband, which was through their daughter, which was through Emily’s misadventure at the zoo… Not complicated in even the slightest. “Awesome, that’s, er, great,” he suddenly laughed, and Joyce did too. Anything more than that would’ve been forcing the man to make up comments and lies that had no basis about her. Carol was a friend, sure, but Logan’s extent didn’t go a whole lot farther than that. “So…I’m just supposed to socialize?” Joyce tried summarizing, finding the job easy enough, albeit a little aimless. Taking in a breath and finally exhaling with an admission, “Yeah…okay, I know, I get it. First-timers can find it a little hard talking to people, especially about kink stuff.” Kink. The first time Joyce heard that word this entire night. Suddenly it felt real. Suddenly it was more than just indirect references and a nondescript socializing dinner. The dynamics were astronomically different from the norm now. She wasn’t speculating just businesses, but kinks. Weird, wacky and odd kinks. Things people did for sexual pleasure and she was throwing money at it? “Nervous?” Logan smirked, kind enough to get a read of the booth. Joyce’s hands were together, stroking her knuckles. It wasn’t the best look, but without having her girlfriend around and not needing to be unwaveringly brave, her face slumped. “Is it that obvious?” “Eh, a little? Getting through the front door is pretty impressive though.” “How about flying across the country?” “No kidding?” “Yep. Carol and I are from the same state.” “Oh, well, I guess when you put it that way it should’ve been obvious!” he laughed. “But actually, hey?” Logan stood from the booth waiting by the table on his feet. “Since you’ve been so graciously abandoned by your friend, and I have to be a good host, why don’t I get you started with some people?” Joyce nodded, though her tinge of trepidation she forgot to leave with Emily was tingling. “With other investors? Or…” “So another thing,” Logan smiled over the forgotten talking point, “Part of why we don’t have any visual labels is because as much as there are investors and idea-havers here, my hope is to really push forward a collaborative style of relationship.” “Isn’t paying someone to make them more money collaboration enough already?” she chuckled. “Yes, very true. But, stuff like this is usually at least a…” He paused for something eloquent. “-- an inherent passion to the originator? People on some level do care about what they want to produce or do here, Joyce. After all, a passionate project tends to pay!” That it did, and thinking on a cute diaper bum she got to fondle last night, the return on investment didn’t always have to be in cash… “Okay, sure. You win,” Joyce sighed giddily with some wind beneath her sails. “Since Carol ditched me, I think I’ll take you up on introducing me to someone?” And with an exaggerated bow, Logan signaled for her to follow. “It would be my utmost pleasure!” “Emily! It’s ready!” A distant voice called and Emily shuddered from the floor of her room. Same place she was when it was time for the dentist. She was laying against Joyce’s side, fuzzy feet against the bottom of their tall window while she tried to get some kind of response from her girlfriend. Absolutely nothing. What gives? Busy, probably, but that was no excuse for going quiet…! Emily huffed, looking at the doorway. If she was the one not responding, it’d end probably in a legitimate spanking, now that Joyce was apparently into that. But also apparently Emily couldn’t not be into spankings. Well, she could, but that’d probably only make Joyce like it more. Mommies like effective discipline. And right now Joyce was above every law in the universe. The one that included keeping communications. “Emily?” Sheila called again, whisked away by her own mood of giddy fun. Greg had long since been texted that she’d be running late. After all, her work “still needed to be taken care of.” A plate of dinner was awaiting her boss’ special someone and the mood couldn’t have felt better despite her flurry of emotions. Of course Sheila still had her reservations; about what she was doing. And yet, with each little reveal or small mention and mishap at work, they were all little droplets into a big bucket of pent-up frustration. Frustration she didn’t even know she had until tonight. Until she caught little miss Summers in the cutest pajamas she’d ever seen. “C…Coming…!” A faint voice reached her from the other end of the apartment. What was keeping her? Sheila brushed the spoon of a clean ladle resting in her hand. After a few padded shuffles Emily emerged, for some reason half-expecting her highchair to magically be there. Thank goodness it wasn’t, otherwise she’d be having hospital food for the night after her heart attack. It wasn’t Joyce there to receive her, but a close branch that had quite the similar arsenal. The way she stood. The way she smiled. Down to the very way she even had the chair already pulled out for her… Everything now seemed to put the girl on high alert. What’s worse, Emily felt the need to scrutinize anywhere for potentially a baby bottle or a bib. But she knew she was being silly… Sheila may know about the diapers, but that was it. She likely assumed Emily wasn’t wearing them, and she definitely didn’t know about the nursery. She was safe. Protected. Sheila didn’t know. She knew nothing. Nothing but beets. Her hand on the top of the chair held her back the moment she saw it. Staring long and hard at the plate of green spinach leaves, slices of tomato, onion and feta, there and all throughout were monsters from the purple, soily deep all throughout. “Something wrong?” Sheila asked, standing right now to her. She was looking down at her handiwork now. Did it look bad, or something? Putting on her bravest look, Emily sunk into the chair. “N…no…No. It’s nothing…” Despite never having asked for it, Emily smiled somewhat appreciatively. “Thank you for dinner?” The pasta did look good, and had the salad been one specific ingredient short, it would have gone from putrid to perfect. It was gratitude and that’s all Sheila wanted. She smiled cheerily before she walked away. “Of course! You’re very welcome.” It was one trip to the stove and counter later before Sheila was sitting a chair’s width away from her at the table. “Do you mind if I eat with you? I was going to see my fiance after I left, my boyfriend, but he got a little wrapped up in something. I hope you don’t mind me imposing and all like this…” I know what fiance means… “No, that’s fine. Sorry you’re stuck with me and not Joyce?” After all, they actually had a dynamic. Sheila and Emily? There was something, but it certainly wasn’t business. Sheila waved dismissively. “Don’t worry about that. Joyce and I…well,” her eyes wandered above for a second, “She’s my boss, so I don’t like stuff like that so much. Or…I guess it makes me feel a little uncomfortable.” “Keep your distance?” Emily ate a forkful of pasta. She was going to eat a forkful, then Sheila piped up. “Ah-ah! Emily? Uhm, maybe you’d want to take off the pajamas first?” Just as she was starting to forget, her substitute-Joyce had reminded her. “Oh…” And embarrassingly, Emily set her fork down. Standing back up she hovered to the edge of the kitchen. “S-sorry…let me go change real quick…” “Sorry I didn’t think to remind you,” Sheila included apologetically. She’d have to be better about that next time. Next time? A few minutes later Emily had returned in the best adult-looking pants and shirt she could find. Sheila quietly observed with an inexplicable feeling of disappointment, but left it at that. It was almost as if they were equals now. And thankfully for Emily she was feeling some confidence now, having shed her skin and emerged as a blossoming, super-mature butterfly. “Sorry about that… So you were saying? You prefer keeping it work-related around Joyce?” “Uh-huh,” Sheila nodded, taking a bite. “It might sound weird, but I think I just work better when I know what I’m fully dealing with. I know it might be unusual, but I like clearly defined roles?” Ew. Weird. Did Sheila put deja vu in the sauce? But more importantly, no wonder Sheila was held in high regard. She was just like Joyce. “No, I get that,” Emily mumbled partway through a mouthful of food. After swallowing, “So like, it’s tough to be friends with your boss!” “Exactly!” Sheila immediately lit up. “That’s exactly it. I like Joyce and I think she’s a very capable person, and that’s why I want to do whatever I can to help her.” She took a second to quietly observe Emily who glanced down at her food. Helping her boss in any way. Even if it meant holding down the fort at home. “Well, I guess just from when we’ve talked, Joyce does have a lot of nice things to say about you,” Emily added, and tactfully retracted all the sensitive backdoor-bits. “That makes me happy to hear,” Sheila smiled appreciatively. Maybe she really was appreciated if the boss was bragging to her dau– Girlfriend. Sheila’s smile didn’t falter as the mental struggle ensued. The conversation was sobering, enough to help Emily forget whatever weird funk she was feeling since Sheila got here. Enough to make her curious. “Oh!” An eager feeling suddenly hit her. Her leg excitedly swung under the table. “So what’s Joyce like at work?” A very good question indeed. Something she could probably never get straight from the source’s mouth. A working Joyce to Emily was like talking about a unicorn. By big mama’s doctrine, a Joyce away from home simply did not exist. All she got to know was the motherly and girlfriendy one. “At work?” Like always? Sheila pondered, only just remembering how intimate her boss had been with Emily that one night. “Well… She’s definitely passionate about her work. I’ve had a few late nights just trying to get her to leave her office.” A surprised giggle erupted across the table. “What? Really?” Joyce choosing to stay late? Impossible! “That was a little while back though,” Sheila lightly chuckled. A bit before Emily, most likely. “People at the company have a lot of respect for her,” she continued. “Though…” What were the best words to use… The most appropriate ones to use in front of her boss’ number one confidant. “Joyce can be very…strong-willed?” “Right!?” Emily damn well near slapped the table in excitement. A mutual understanding! Sheila looked slightly taken aback, hence Emily quickly simmering herself down. “S-sorry…!” she couldn’t help but giggle. “I just… That’s exactly how Joyce is when she’s home!” Maybe work and home with her were one and the same? Immediately her mind was racing to share an example. And oh so many to choose from! Like…oh! That one time Joyce supervised her the whole time while they cooked? Or…ah! The other times when she forces her to wait in the bathroom until she’s done drying off? Or maybe when she’s fidgeting on the changing table! No scary movies without a diaper on? Well, Emily’s frantic mind paused for that one. Not quite a rule yet. The Supreme Joyce was probably still deliberating on whether that one was constitutional or not. Not quite ratified yet, but Emily had a hopeful hunch. Aside from that one though, so many examples! So…so many…and she couldn’t share any at all… Not one. Sheila raised her brows, waiting for more to follow, but by the look on her face, clearly there was more she did not want to tell. Throwing her a bone, Sheila said, “So you wanted to know what else, right? Mmm… Well, hmm… If I share this, do you promise not to tell her?” Emily blinked. A secret? A secret about Joyce? If it weren’t for the food in her mouth Emily would have been smiling from ear to ear. Forget everything she held against Sheila; this woman was pure gold! Vigorously she nodded. Sheila pursed her lips, choking down an elated feeling just to see the girl so giddy. If only she had the authority to wipe that small smudge of sauce on her mouth…! “Alright… Well, recently, Joyce was having a bit of a…bad day.” The one audience member gasped aloud. “Like she was angry?” Joyce? Angry? She could be slightly cranky or moody, but that was the worst Emily ever got to see! After a momentary thought and a calculated admission, Sheila nodded, “Yes, I guess you could say she was. But, maybe more like upset? Anyway– I usually take down notes for her in meetings that she has to go to. There was a presenter for a product revision and Joyce was being…uncooperative.” It was as clear as day just how many eggshells Sheila was walking on, trained to be obedient even when her boss wasn’t actively around. Yet despite her subtle choice of words and active filtering, Emily could see through all of it and was eating it up so eagerly. As eager as she was to ignore her beet-ridden salad. “And I…” Sheila cracked a sudden grin, trying to hide it with her hand and fork, “I probably shouldn’t, but I guess it was a little funny…” “What? What was?” Emily pestered with a baited breath. “The presenter…Joyce sort of…snapped at him.” “No way!” Emily laughed at the poor unknown employee’s expense, too busy envisioning Joyce in such a hostile manner. The humor only came because it sounded so unlike her and so very much all the same. Maybe the joy though came from getting to hear about Joyce’s wrath and not being on the receiving end of it for once. Luckily for Emily, she wasn’t the one caught lying this time…! And what was never considered in the girl’s fanatical mind was the world of difference that laid in consequences. Joe Schmoe was risking his entire career getting in Joyce’s way. Emily was in danger of thirty minutes with her nose facing the corner. “Sometimes Joyce needs a little bit of talking too…” Sheila quietly laughed. “But ninety-five percent of the time, she’s probably one of the best people you could imagine working with.” “That’s good though,” Emily smiled, stowing away her devilish grin. Oh how much fun it would be to taunt Joyce with all of this. Barring what she was explicitly ordered not to share, of course…! “And also,” Sheila pointed with her fork, “Is something wrong with the salad?” “Hm?” Emily smiled innocently, daring not to look where she pointed. Her plate of pasta was near-finished, and yet her splendid garden of greens right beside it hadn’t been harvested one bit. “Your salad? You haven’t touched it…?” Finally Emily did acknowledge it, dancing her fork around precariously. Carefully. Deliberately. Right until she had just the right serving. Just the right stuff with none of the poison sitting on her plate… Success! Emily popped a forkful of spinach, tomato, feta and onion into her mouth. It was pretty good actually. She smiled, almost forgetting her manners and flashing an empty mouth. “Nothing’s wrong? I just…like eating stuff in order? Kinda weird, but I guess that’s just what I do…?” Good lie, Emily! Actually! “Oh, alright. Sorry about that, I hope I didn’t make that weird?” She hoped she hadn’t, as a fully-stocked adult nursery was still a long ways away from calling anything before that weird. Emily’s head was casually swinging each way. “Not at all!” And just to try and prove it, Emily took another filtered bite from her salad. “So?” her eyes lit up again, “Can you tell me any more stories about Joyce? I wanna know more!” It was another fuzzy tickle in Sheila’s brain, and maybe her heart, but she laughed in tune with the pleasant feeling. “Another one? Okay…let me think…” “Todd, right?” Joyce’s rehearsed smile came out to play, “Thank you for taking a second to chat with me! I’m wishing you the best!” Wishing him the best? For a store that specializes in selling whips and collars? Joyce didn’t get it, but she was coming to respect it. The pair parted ways, each drifting into their own pool of the crowd. Each conversation was enlightening, to say the least. Cages meant for chastity, leatherworks, latex fashion, “rent-a-puppy,” which was most certainly not a puppy, and the like. Ball gag designs like they were fashion statements and phone cases, platform heels so high with stiletto heels so sharp– tall enough to actually make Emily look like a big girl. It was nothing Joyce could have ever imagined as legitimate ideas, and yet she was astonished to see them as plausible, given context and explanation from the “idea-havers,” as Logan put it. It was all with a grain of salt, considering the whole point was to sell yourself and your project, but the bias was lessened if it meant Joyce was actually seeing it herself. Bizarre, sure, but there really was a market for all of this. Markets that weren’t quite speaking to Joyce. She mixed and she mingled, learning quite a bit about the other side of life and what went on behind the public door. Fascinating, yes, but personally interested? Not as much. None of it clicked. None of it had her jumping for joy, pouring out the cash or personally wanting to see any of it come to fruition. She wished them all the best, certainly, but she was indifferent to being a part of any of it. She was a bad liar, saying that it was all about the money. It was, but that in itself was just a pretense. A pretense for what she didn’t even know herself. Something. Something that spoke to her. Her emotions. Without skipping around in figures of speech, Joyce was made of money. She was set for life, and by extension so too was Emily. The only stake she had in a race like this was personal interest. An interest that wasn’t being pegged quite yet. And maybe not at all. And in her thoughts she accidentally touched shoulders with another person. After bumping the bronze shoulder, Joyce apologized on reflex. “Sorry about that! I’m sorry– I’m barely looking where I’m going!” “No-no! Stop!” the stranger laughed back with her black headful of curls bobbing with her chuckle. “Gosh, I’ve gone so many times around this place already, I should have some better awareness!” They both laughed, but they didn’t move on. “I think I may have seen your face around here a few times?” the young woman scrutinized with a playful eye, then looked at her nametag, “Ah! Joyce! Joyce S!” “The one and only,” Joyce smirked, then looked directly across at hers. “Isabelle…Barros?” “So nice to meet you!” Isabelle stuck her hand out and Joyce returned the gesture. “I don’t want to sound too excited, but I really was hoping to get a chance to speak with you?” “Who? Me?” “No,” she commented, pointing her finger somewhere random. “The other Joyce! Yes, you!” Isabelle, clearly in her stride without a drink in her system and simply pure lovability and energy laughed. “You’re not busy, are you? Can I take up some of your time?” Clearly she had no other takers, especially when Joyce was the one approaching people all night. Carol was probably still busy networking as well. Likely laying the groundwork for a small fortune. “Sure?” Joyce shrugged, allowing herself to be led by the shoulder. Not often someone as forward and as tall as her would do that. The best anyone could do to get her to follow was a padded tush leading her by the hand. “Sorry, I hope you don’t mind sitting?” Isabelle apologized, wiping her forehead with a slightly exaggerated sigh. “It feels like I’ve been running in circles all night.” “Oh yeah? Trying to find investors?” And Joyce with her subtle guess figured that she was being pegged as another “customer” right then. “Did I give myself away so soon?” She smirked, then chuckled. She seemed unapologetic, but it wasn’t a turnoff. “But yes,” she admitted with a sigh, yet still looking just as lively as she might have had she not been on an investor’s losing streak all night. “Has anyone brought anything up yet that’s interesting to you?” A sigh of pausing to think weighed over Joyce’s mind. “Well…I guess the one about robotic tails that…uhm…go in the back was interesting…?” Joyce did her best to explain in censored terms, but the look on her face was obvious and Isabelle was already laughing. “So it’s not your cup of tea, I take it? That’s alright. The way Logan puts it, if you’ve met him: it wouldn’t be quite the passion if everyone had such an interest in it?” Already trying to bleach her imagination with other thoughts, Joyce nodded with a chuckle. Now she was about to get it dirty all over again, most likely. “Okay, you have the floor,” or the table, “what are you here to promote?” Isabelle reared her head back with playful offense. “Don’t make me out to be some kind of villain!” “Sorry, sorry,” Joyce chuckled, almost genuinely, “I just don’t want you to have to take up any more time than you need to?” A curious tilt came from the curly-haired head. “Oh? You say that like you already know what I’m going to talk about?” Joyce shrugged, feeling her prospects of the night already dwindling. “True, I don’t, but… Well, nothing I guess has quite piqued my interest here just yet.” “Not even if I wanted to show you my tail?” The comment was brazen and bold, and not but a second later Joyce was blushing uncomfortably. Isabelle was all pearly whites and laughter then. “O-Okay…” Joyce stammered, looking somewhat professional again. “I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions… So what do you have?” “Não-não!” she tutted with energy, stalling precisely because she seemed so in the moment, trying to savor every bit of it. “I’m not as heartless as you might think I am! Tell me first! Why are you here tonight?” “Why am I here?” Since when did a potential investor have to give their life story? But she didn’t object. “I…came because a friend invited me.” “So you came because you were only invited?” “No…well, yes, sort of.” Isabelle nodded, but her curious and discerning look just wouldn’t leave. “So you came to something like this just for a friend?” “...Yes?” She expected it to end at that. However, “I don’t believe you.” “Sorry?” Didn’t believe her? For coming just for a friend? “You have a look, Joyce?” A look? Didn’t everyone have a look? After all, people needed faces, and faces did looking all the time? “I…” and yet she knew exactly what the woman meant. “I don’t know what you mean…?” “That!” she pointed with a noise of joy and Joyce shuffled uncomfortably. “That look! The look when you’re hiding something!” “I don’t have anything to hide…” “You’re right, you don’t? So why don’t you tell me why you’re here?” Was this therapy or a business proposal? Had it been any other person she’d be walking away right now. But she was sitting. Damn, Isabelle was crafty. But in reality, Joyce didn’t know why she was still sitting there. Maybe not to cause a scene? “I’m here to invest…” “Invest in what, though? Not animal tails?” “Yes, not animal tails…” Yet another unpleasant reminder. “Ou– I’m bothering you, I can see that,” Isbaelle apologized, per se, but her face did not falter nor did her determination change. “I’m not trying to be a life coach or anything– I just mean to start off on the right foot?” “Well…” Joyce with nothing but mixed feelings sighed, “it doesn’t seem like it’s going very well…” Yet her less than enthused comment had no effect. “Maybe not?” the stranger admitted, laughing without a care. At this point their small discussion was feeling like an interrogation session. No wonder this woman wasn’t getting any bites, and this shark too had no intentions either. “Can I guess?” “Guess what?” Joyce frowned. “Your thing? Why you’re here?” Thankfully the crowd was noisy enough to mask the small click of her tongue. “I told you, I’m here for a friend–!” “Is it bondage?” Such a daring question which would have had Joyce falling over had she not been sitting. “N-no! What are you talking about? I don’t have a thing for–” “Pets? Do you like big puppies and kitties?” The crease between her brows that sloped up to the ceiling was beginning to form while she tried to look anywhere but the woman’s piercing gaze. “Th-this is ridiculous…” If Joyce could feel this vulnerable and bothered, she could only imagine the puddle of liquid Emily would be under the same kind of duress…! “Oh?” and like she struck gold, “You do? Well, that changes things a bit, but I–” “No!” Joyce stressed in an outburst, enough to actually garner some looks. She didn’t look back, but immediately set her back against the booth seat again, much more quiet now. “I’m not into any of that…” “But something?” “...But nothing.” And it was like her words had no effect. Unless it was the true answer, the one Isabelle somehow knew existed deep down in Joyce’s flustered heart, she was only going to keep digging, and Joyce just kept sitting. Twenty questions somehow ensued. “Roleplay?” “No.” “Another person?” Emily? She knew? “N-no.” “So it is! Then is it–” “N-no! I said it doesn’t!” “But you’re saying it?” And Joyce’s cold sweat only intensified. How to admit to having a fetish without admitting to it… Shit! Isabelle kept on going, on an un-ending, joyful assault. Curiosity fired from her mouth like a relentless lazer and Joyce’s fragile mind was at the seams with trying to protect her most vulnerable secret. “So it does involve someone else…” the interrogator passively mused and Joyce was losing her voice. Then a lightbulb went off. A flash of blinding light that hit before the Brazilian bomb sent her shockwave. “Are you a…domme?” Or maybe not. A total miss. Joyce’s inner monologue sighed with relief. More than happy to answer, with a tinge of confidence she promptly replied, “Nope.” “Oh wait, you’re new to this, aren’t you? A gentle domme?” No sparks were flying yet. “A mommy?” The crowd must have screamed in collective horror. All Joyce could hear was the deafening crash. Shattering glass, crumbling brick and groaning mental infrastructure. Fire alarms were sounding and all she could hear was pure chaos with eyes wide as saucers. Too stunned to move from the shock, her peripherals tried to survey the damage of the restaurant. Yet there wasn’t any. No one was screaming, people were chatting. Windows were whole, lights still worked and there wasn’t a single flame to be seen. No one was the wiser to the absolute mess Joyce was certain she had heard and seen. All for but a flash. All in her mind. Her precious psyche with a hole gaping wide from the fracture this woman had dealt to it. All just to see what was inside. Her teeth were cemented together yet her lip trembled. Barely anything. Joyce had said nearly nothing and it got her like this. To a point like this…! She said nothing in return but she didn’t need to. Her look of embarrassed surprise told more than enough. She waited for the party-like laughter Isabelle had been touting this entire evening to Joyce and likely others. Her relaxed, go-with-the-flow atmosphere washing through Joyce’s confidence and composure like a typhoon. But with her fist left vulnerable on the table, she felt the jolt of electricity once Isabelle touched it. She’d been had. Discovered. Found out. Again. Again and again. Her most important secret that could hardly be kept from anyone…! And in all this time to think to herself, lament and quiver from the reveal; awaiting the ridicule from someone who just simply didn’t understand. Someone who couldn’t even fathom a modicum of how precious it was, how much it mattered. From a know-it-all that just had to–! For the first time that night, an honest voice that wasn’t doped on energy came from Isabelle. “Sorry, I think I overstepped my bounds a little?” No laughing. None? Hurriedly Joyce retracted her hand. She was already looking for a way out. Where was Carol? “Joyce?” Feeling like her heart was going to pop out of her chest, Joyce looked at the woman one more time, regretfully so. And immediately in spite she spoke. “What? Are you happy? You figured it out. Good for you.” “Joyce– No, I’m sorry, I was a little excited… It’s because–” “No.” Finally with enough conscience to leave, Joyce stood from her seat in a moment of confused rage. For a split second she was ready to crumble, had Isabelle been ready to attack. Her loss, now that Joyce’s psyche was intact. Isabelle was standing up in a hurry to catch her, but Joyce was already storming off. She walked with one purpose and one only. Forget waiting for Carol; she was leaving on her own. This was a mistake. A dumb, stupid mistake. What was she thinking? What was she hoping for? Whatever it was, this certainly wasn’t it. All she found was a bunch of weird proposals and a bully to boot. Stupid. So stupid! Isabelle got as far as halfway before the crowd between them simply did not permit. With an angry text rushed with one hand Joyce descended the steps of a place she would never be seeing again. Christ, an entire fucking state she’d pay the pilot just to not fly over. Keeping her words simple and prompt, letting Carol know that she left early, it was a brisk, lonely walk along the brick-laid path as she scheduled some kind of ride back to the hotel. Stupid! So fucking stupid! And before she stuffed her phone back in her handbag, a new horror swept her over a thousand times over from a mere glance at her screen. MISSED CALL: EMILY (4) Multiple missed text messages. Where r u? Pick up!!! need to talk. Please! im gonna go buy ice cream if you don’t text back!!! Since when? Emily had been trying to reach her this whole time? Forget the restaurant. Forget that woman. This was a whole new grief that swallowed any other issue like an abyss. Forgetting to call Emily. Not texting her back. A long exhale left her nose, stricken with worry now for what was back at home. A place she wanted to be more than anything now. And she did want to call right then; drop everything just to do it. But she was upset. Frustrated. So many complex and difficult emotions she didn’t want Emily trying to deal with. Not wanting her to worry. She would be fine and she knew it, but if it wasn’t such a horrible feeling. Barely as an afterthought there was something from Sheila as well. Work, undoubtedly. But she allowed herself to feel selfish on that front just for the night, wanting nothing more than to get back to the hotel, call Emily, then sleep early just to get home even faster. What a night. What an experience. What a mistake. 19 2 Link to comment
Bel George Posted August 29, 2022 Share Posted August 29, 2022 I am always pleasantly surprised when there is a new chapter of this story. I love it. Link to comment
kerry Posted August 30, 2022 Share Posted August 30, 2022 Both of your stories updated on the same day? Be still my heart! ? Link to comment
D503 Posted August 30, 2022 Share Posted August 30, 2022 Poor Joyce having to face her fear and take a flight response. I hope she can be reassured and allow herself to be vulnerable for a short time so she can flourish. Link to comment
YourFNF Posted September 2, 2022 Share Posted September 2, 2022 Sheila is standing right one the line... Link to comment
AdultInnocence Posted September 3, 2022 Share Posted September 3, 2022 I haven't really said much here since I am reading it on Patreon. The woman guessed it and Joyce doesn't seem to be thinking there are others out there like her. I really hope things turn around and Joyce is able to talk to her again. I have enjoyed this story from the very first chapter when I started reading it over a year ago. I'm immersed with the people and wanting to know what is coming next. Way back when Joyce's parents visited, I thought something might happen where they ended up finding what was behind the locked door. As embarrassing as that would have been for Emily, I think her parents are ones that would accept her however she is. Link to comment
Mee Posted September 3, 2022 Author Share Posted September 3, 2022 On 8/29/2022 at 12:36 AM, Babytom948 said: awww,poor lady Poor Joyce indeed. I think she may have flown a little bit too close to the sun... On 8/29/2022 at 12:39 PM, Bel George said: I am always pleasantly surprised when there is a new chapter of this story. I love it. Thank you very much! Knock on wood, but at least for now I think I've found something for a consistent release schedule. With how spacing works out, Sheltered should be approximately a monthly release for the public. On 8/30/2022 at 12:26 AM, kerry said: Both of your stories updated on the same day? Be still my heart! ? I may have just forgot to update one sooner than the other... However! A double release, yep! On 8/30/2022 at 10:04 AM, D503 said: Poor Joyce having to face her fear and take a flight response. I hope she can be reassured and allow herself to be vulnerable for a short time so she can flourish. I think Joyce may have been slipping herself in a little bit more than she was expecting. While she was in a "safe" environment, I think she was just sort of lucky to not meet someone like Isabelle up until that point. For the most part she went from tame to pretty extreme, relatively speaking. And yeah, maybe she should take a page out of Emily's book? If anyone can speak on it, surely it's Emily. On 8/30/2022 at 1:04 PM, Sarah Penguin said: Platypus cannon. Yes On 9/1/2022 at 11:54 PM, YourFNF said: Sheila is standing right one the line... Yeah, and depending on who you ask, it might be fair to say that she's already crossed it... All a matter of perspective, though! Thanks for the comment! 7 hours ago, AdultInnocence said: I haven't really said much here since I am reading it on Patreon. The woman guessed it and Joyce doesn't seem to be thinking there are others out there like her. I really hope things turn around and Joyce is able to talk to her again. I have enjoyed this story from the very first chapter when I started reading it over a year ago. I'm immersed with the people and wanting to know what is coming next. Way back when Joyce's parents visited, I thought something might happen where they ended up finding what was behind the locked door. As embarrassing as that would have been for Emily, I think her parents are ones that would accept her however she is. Thank you for being a patron, and thank you for commenting on the public side as well! I tried to build Joyce's character as someone clearly kink-oriented, but also as someone very narrow-minded on that view of things. As devil's advocate, you can make the argument that when she was first scouting diapers or baby furniture that the very existence of those things should've been enough to make her think twice, but given how much time has passed and things have developed, I think that gives credibility to her shock in never expecting to get so close to something or someone in the flesh. It's definitely not a perfect story, and especially with the earlier half there are subtle/meaningful changes that I would make based on my own impressions and helpful critiques I've gotten over time. That all being said, I'm glad nonetheless that there are so many people enjoying it and kind enough to even leave comments and feedback. I'm sure Joyce's parents could be understanding people. After all, I think if Mary is going to be as bold and invasive as she is, being tolerant of others is absolutely the bare minimum to avoid being completely hated... So, while they may not have seen the nursery, and only Joyce's mom is privy to Emily's diapers, we'll definitely be seeing them again and there will be consequences for others being slightly in the know on Emily and Joyce's situation. Thank you again for commenting! 2 Link to comment
Little_Mouse Posted September 12, 2022 Share Posted September 12, 2022 What a amazing chapter! ? I was somewhat worried about Emily being in Sheila's hands. But I'm starting to believe she could be a good addition to Joyce and Emily's life as mommy and daughter. And poor Joyce. Hope she can find someone who can help her not be ashamed and embarred of her feelings, but start to being proud to be ‘a mommy’ for Emily. ? Link to comment
Baby Toni38 Posted September 19, 2022 Share Posted September 19, 2022 This is still on of my all time favorites. Please keep up the great work. You are a talented writer and I am honored to be able to read your works. Link to comment
Mee Posted October 5, 2022 Author Share Posted October 5, 2022 On 9/12/2022 at 7:18 AM, Little_Mouse said: What a amazing chapter! ? I was somewhat worried about Emily being in Sheila's hands. But I'm starting to believe she could be a good addition to Joyce and Emily's life as mommy and daughter. And poor Joyce. Hope she can find someone who can help her not be ashamed and embarred of her feelings, but start to being proud to be ‘a mommy’ for Emily. ? What?! You doubted Sheila?! She's the one-stop shop for all and everything Joyce-related! Frankly, one could argue she's a bit tardy to the party with buckling down on her Emily-wrangling skills. Lol, but with less joking, I think she'd be a great addition! And yeah, while Emily has Joyce to force her into uncomfortable situations, Joyce doesn't have that same kind of "motivator," so this is just one of those times we get to see her thrown off her game! On 9/19/2022 at 8:53 AM, Baby Toni38 said: This is still on of my all time favorites. Please keep up the great work. You are a talented writer and I am honored to be able to read your works. Thank you so much! I'm always so happy to get comments like these! Link to comment
Mee Posted October 5, 2022 Author Share Posted October 5, 2022 42 - Bathtime Blues Hear the knob! Ready for the pounce! Plant your feet and–! “Welcome hom–!” Emily shouted with a cheer as she started to soar, yet the train barreling through the doorway had caught her completely and expectedly. She couldn’t finish her signature line because her face was currently being smothered into her girlfriend’s shoulder. “Awwwhhh! My sweet baby girl!” Joyce cooed and rocked, shaking her all over as her hips turned one way then the other. “I missed you so much! So-so-so much!” A refreshing gasp of air entered Emily’s lungs once her face was released. “Home!” she finished her line, “At least let me finish!” With Joyce’s burst of emotional Amazonian strength, she supported Emily in her arms long enough to knock the door shut with her backside before putting her back on her feet. Standing from the slate entrance she gave Emily another tight hug, propped up on the wooden floor. “Didja miss me?” Emily giggled. “Did I miss you?” Joyce scoffed with a gasp right before another smothering affection. With some distance between their lips she doubled down again. “Yes, I missed you!” And yet all her excitement and love was just a front. “I…I’m sorry I took so long to get back to you last night…” “And I said last night that it was fine…” Emily leaned out on her ledge to pat Joyce’s head with a grin. “But you didn’t tell me much…” She made a sly face. “So? What happened? Anything fun? Crazy?” Joyce pulled her suitcase up and into the home. “It was…interesting.” “Ouuuu~!” Emily ‘ahhed’ all the way to the bedroom, poking Joyce’s jacket all the way. “Crazy kind of interesting? What’d you see? Did Carol do anything? What was the place like?” “It was…normal. Carol was fine, though we sort of split up for most of it…” Normal? Something like that? The enthusiasm had been killed some. “Oh, was it? Uhm…so what was it like?” “Lots of people at a restaurant sort of place… Name tags. Conversations…boring stuff.” A sideways glance had been earned. Her sales pitch clearly wasn’t very dazzling. Emily hopped on the edge of the bed, swinging her legs by the unzipped luggage. “Y’know, when you weren’t telling me much last night, I figured you were saving it for once you got home...” “I would tell you if something meaningful happened,” Joyce chuckled, dismissively. “It was actually just like one of my normal business dinners…” So it’s a very good thing Emily didn’t go… “...Okay.” With a shirt hanging from her hands, Joyce looked at her expectantly, hiding her own guilt. “You don’t believe me?” “No…?” Emily tilted her head. “Just gotta feeling.” “A feeling?” “Uh-huh,” Emily nodded. Maybe she was starting to read minds like Joyce, too? “You can tell me, you know?” “Tell you about what?” Tell her about Isabelle… “Something happened,” Emily pointed her finger accusingly, “I know it.” “...Nothing happened. More importantly, what time did you get to bed last night? I called you pretty late, you know?” “No!” a whine escaped the excited girl, “You can’t do that! Answer my question first!” “And are you dodging mine?” Joyce flipped the script. “Times. I want them.” “A little before midnight– there! Now answer my–!” But Joyce’s eyebrows were already ascending at an incredible speed. As high as could be before Emily had a snowball’s chance in hell of finishing her pseudo-big girl defense. “A little before midnight? This is why I don’t leave you home alone…” Joyce sighed with a face held in her hand. “After how hard I’ve worked to get you on a sleep schedule…” “I was on one before and it was one time!” It wasn’t even a school night! “And one is enough to make you excited into trying for two,” Joyce tutted, putting away the last of her clothes. “Early bedtime tonight. Both of us.” “Then you do it by yourself!” Emily deflected, clearly not likened to the idea of going down with the ship. “What? It’s my first night back and you don’t want to snuggle together?” “Urgh!” Emily grit her teeth, doing her best to shoulder the blow to her heart. Damn! No cuddles without Joyce…? “I’ll…snuggle, but I’m staying up after.” And just for good measure, “but I’ll go to sleep at our normal time…” “Once I fall asleep you’ll be free to go,” Joyce smiled amicably. Sure. Go stay up late if you think you can wiggle out of my arms tonight…! With the crooked deal having been made, their walk and talk continued over to the closet. “Oh, that’s right; Sheila stopped by last night, didn’t she?” It was a very brief conversation last night over the phone. There was difficulty in trying to talk to Emily just to hear her voice without spilling her own situation over. And with a surge of vividly embarrassing and truthfully joyful memories, Emily nodded simply, “Yeah, she did.” Apparently Sheila must’ve contacted Joyce at some point. Good to know it was planned, at least the file part. Dinner though…? “Uh-huh,” Joyce wheeled the empty case back in its place, “I’m sorry I didn’t know any sooner to tell you. She’s usually in and out, but I should’ve told you to expect someone… I take it that she was quick, right?” “...Yeah.” Emily may have been lucky earlier having a ‘feeling,’ but Joyce with her feelings stacked on top of keen intuition struck much more confidently. “What happened?” “What?” Emily stammered, avoiding eye contact as she strolled back over to the bed. “Nothing happened…!” This was certainly weird. Emily was hiding something about Sheila visiting? That didn’t sit right with the mommy in charge at all. Not one bit. “No, spill it. I know something happened.” And don’t make me check the security cameras… “We just talked a little, is all…” “Talked?” Was talking about anything worth keeping a secret over? “Emily, what happened?” Sheila, of all people? What did she do? “It’s not even that big of a deal…” “Which is why you’re gonna tell me?” Ouch. Hands on the hips. It wasn’t looking good for Emily. “It was just about stuff…” “Stuff?” Stuff? “What kind of stuff?” “...Secret.” “No,” Joyce shook her head, “nuh-uh, no secrets.” No secrets from the two people either emotionally or contractually obligated to tell her nothing but the truth. Sheila told the truth if she wanted to keep her job. Emily told the truth if she wanted ice cream or a diaper change. But more importantly, why did anything happen with Sheila at all? Wasn’t she just a go and get it done type? Since when did that change? “Nope,” Emily shook her head right back, wrists and back on their bed, “not gonna tell.” After all, she swore to secrecy with Sheila… “Emily…” that expectant motherly tone was starting to flare. Then the smaller girl made a daring taunt. “What’re you gonna do, not cuddle with me?” Joyce’s muscles stiffened. Crud. It would appear that a deadlock had been reached. “...Why can’t you tell me what happened?” Joyce tried to negotiate; something she certainly did not like being made to do. “Because I promised not to…” Promised not to tell Joyce anything that Sheila said about her. Then some dots started to connect for Emily and the verbiage her girlfriend had been using was reviewed. “Oh, wait! I can tell you what happened, but not what we talked about?” A great sigh and roll of her eyes dropped Joyce right on the bed next to her. “Well start from there, silly.” Goodness, to think this was about to escalate to tickle torture all over just a simple misunderstanding! “She stayed for dinner,” Emily said quite simply and openly, despite how awkward it actually was at first. “Dinner?” Joyce cocked an eyebrow. “Sheila did?” “Yeah,” Emily nodded. “Though…she kinda invited herself to stay…” At one point it had crossed her mind that maybe it was all something that Joyce had put her secretary up to, but the look on her girlfriend’s face was telling a different story. “Was she not supposed to?” “No…not really. She sent me a message about having to get a file from my computer last night, but that was it. So, she stayed for dinner? Sheila did?” The same Sheila that wouldn’t even accept a drink from her boss? Now Emily was propping herself back up. “Wait, so her staying over wasn’t your idea?” Joyce shook her head pensively. “No, it wasn’t. That’s…really not like her. When did she leave?” “After she made us dinner…?” “Sheila made dinner? For you both?” Were they talking about the same person? Sheila had access to their home, yes, but that was strictly for work reasons. What reason was there in staying to have dinner? None of this was sitting well at all. Uh-oh. Sheila was maybe in trouble… Emily kept most of her thoughts to herself, although she did ask, “Should…should I have said no? I was trying to call you about her being there that whole time…” “It’s just a little weird is all, I guess. I’ll be talking to her about it tomorrow at work, though. Did…anything weird happen?” Anything weird other than being made dinner? Anything weird other than accidentally being caught wearing her footie pajamas from the nursery that she wasn’t supposed to? Lord, she hoped Joyce didn’t check those cameras… “No…we just talked, I guess. It was actually kinda fun…” Fun? With Sheila? Not that Sheila wasn’t fun or interesting, probably, but Joyce couldn’t speak to any of that. Sheila was a shadow that took notes and made the world bend to her boss’ whims. Not the sociable and friendly face that cooked dinner for people? “And what’d you two talk about?” Emily’s mouth clamped shut. Joyce rolled her eyes. “It was about me, wasn’t it?” “--No!” Emily blurted out, though she couldn’t have sounded less convincing if she tried. Baiting Emily was so easy that it almost made Joyce feel bad. “Uh-huh?” Joyce nodded with a grin, one that didn’t believe for a single second that it wasn’t about her. “Let me guess: bad stuff?” While there was the option to stay in denial, Emily hardly had the fortitude to commit to something like that, especially against Joyce. Maybe it was a mind over matter situation, but trying to beat Joyce in a battle of wits simply seemed impossible. The thought of triumph alone was too exhausting to imagine. “No, good stuff! Joyce stuff… The stuff you won’t tell me about work!” “The stuff I don’t talk about because I want to keep that stuff separate, Emily.” Gosh, did Sheila actually talk about her at work? What if she mentioned something about how she can blow up at others? Appear as scary or intimidate others? Emily had no business knowing that. She was supposed to see Joyce as a mother and a lover, not a tyrant! The thought of affecting that persona was legitimately vexing. Did her secretary really just go and ruin all of that? “Well I thought it was really cool stuff…” Emily put on an exaggerated sulk. “I’m glad to know that I’m not the only one you get upset with…” Joyce spun her head and Emily raised her giggling hands defensively. “Relax! If anything, it really just sounds like you’re the same way at work as you are here?” Joyce was reluctant to leave it at that, but hopeful that’s where Emily’s conclusions actually stuck. “...Maybe a little,” she sighed, “but I don’t tell you that stuff for a reason, Emily. I don’t want to be a businesswoman to you. I want to be your girlfriend…” When things had first started Joyce’s wealth alone was already a straining force on their relationship. Now that they were finally somewhere to get beyond that, the thought of trying to add any more turmoil to the mix just felt wrong. “And you still are, Joyce…” Emily draped her arms up and over Joyce’s shoulders. “I like hearing about your work? I guess I got excited because Sheila told me something that you wouldn’t… Don’t get angry at her.” Joyce was certainly feeling something for her trusted confidant. “Okay. We’ll leave it at that. Thank you for being honest with me,” even if it had taken a little tooth pulling. “So, more importantly, what did you two have for dinner?” “Oh…uhm, pasta and a salad?” “As good as my cooking, though?” And suddenly whether it was friend or foe, secretary or stranger, treatment for Emily was always an ongoing competition. “No, not as good,” Emily assured, though more so to stroke her partner’s ego. And come to think of it, Joyce definitely won by a landslide. After all, Sheila had made the rookie mistake of using beets of all things. Good thing Emily was skilled in making it look like she was eating them. A thought crossed the girl’s mind to request that the vegetable be blacklisted right then, but knowing Joyce… Well, as of late, telling Joyce the things that she did not like always seemed to somehow make them that much more common in her life. Yucky vegetables would not be discussed on this day. Redacted. And as great of a sight as Joyce was to look at, Emily happened to look back down at her suitcase and notice the shopping bag inside of it. Just as she started to move for it, Joyce smoothly pushed it away. “No, not yet,” Joyce teased, and Emily frowned. “What? Did you get me a souvenir or something?” “Sort of? Guess you’re gonna have to wait and find out, huh?” “Or…you could just let me see now?” Joyce rose from the bed, standing with Emily’s legs around her waist. She taunted ever so lovingly right back, “Or you can wait until it’s time to show you?” Then she made a loud sniff. “Hmm…Emily, did you take a shower while I was gone yesterday?” “Oh come on! Stop exaggerating! I was too busy!” “Too busy napping and having dinner made for you by my secretary?” “W-well…” Emily didn’t need much time to think as she was carried down the hall. “Yeah. You wouldn’t get it. It was a ‘had to be there’ sort of thing…” With the flick of a switch the spacious bathroom was on and the lights were living. “That so? Well, what do you say to a nice scrub-a-dub in the tub so I can get you nice and squeaky clean?” And Emily answered right back with her own obnoxious sniffing. “I’d say you need a bath too, missy.” “Oh,” Joyce scoffed with a laugh, “I know I smell fine! You’re just jealous I’m not on a bathtime schedule, is that it?” “Say whatever you want,” Emily with a nasally pitch shrugged as she pinched her nose. “I’d just hate for everyone to think how stinky you are tomorrow!” Joyce sat Emily on the step beside the rim of the tub before rolling up her sleeve to turn on the faucet. “No, I guess I probably do need a bath now that your stinky-ness is rubbing off on me, huh?” “Sorry Joyce, I think that’s just you~!” Emily called after her girlfriend who disappeared from the bathroom. Not a minute later and she was back with a familiar shopping bag from a suitcase that’d been punched out of Emily’s reach. “New fancy towels?” Emily mused. “Oh! Conditioner? I actually wanted to try some new stuff that I saw on TV the other day!” Joyce always did know just how to surprise her! “Close!” Joyce giggled excitedly with the bag in her lap. “I got a couple things, actually…!” “Well don’t make me wait!” Emily crawled over to peer inside, but Joyce already pulled out the first thing. A tall bottle of many words and a large logo of a shiny soap bubble. Not what she was quite expecting. “Ta-da!” Joyce cheered, and not a second later she was gingerly pouring the bottle into the filling bath. “Wait, bubble bath soap?” Emily asked as she watched the tiniest bubbles already starting to form. Maybe not what she was quite expecting, but fair enough… “I saw some at the airport! As soon as I saw it, I knew we had to get some!” Finally making good on a promise that’d been a long time coming, it felt good to realize just a couple more desires. It went without saying that Emily couldn’t remember the last time she’d mingled with bubbles in a bath since ever, nor if a memory even existed with them. So while she wasn’t quite excited to receive the gift, it was a souvenir nonetheless that clearly made Joyce happy. Wrapping her arms around Joyce, Emily smiled. “Thank you for the gift!” “You’re very welcome!” Joyce hugged her right back. “But…! There’s more!” More than that? Well, come to think of it, the bag did seem a bit bigger than what just a single bottle of soap would call for… Emily’s hands latched on to the plastic bag, stationary for long enough to let Joyce swipe them away, but she didn’t. Interpreting that as consent, Emily looked inside the bag. There were multiple plastic cubes inside. Plastic packaging, at least. Clear cubes of stuff that had bright colored packaging and labeling trims on all their edges. Bathtime Blast! They were certainly not the puzzles she wanted to take into the bath like last time. Emily pulled out one of the cubes and looked at it. It was a generously sized bath toy sitting in both her hands. A spherical puffer fish stared back at her with a cartoonish smile and flimsy fins attached to its ball-like body. Admittedly unsure of how to react, Emily grinned dumbly as she asked what was already obvious, “Bath toys?” “So no more asking about bringing anything else in the bath, alright?” Joyce said as she dumped the bag of toys on the floor. There were five other cubes just like the one Emily had pulled out. A shark, an octopus, a clown fish, a turtle, a crab, and a sea urchin? If nothing else, it was admittedly kind of cool that they were all part of a matching set… Joyce always was good at accessorizing. “You didn’t actually need to get me these, you know?” Emily laughed as she helped with opening the packaging. “And let your baths stay boring?” Joyce couldn’t have sounded like it was any worse of a turn off. “You don’t have to play with them, but from now on if you’re in the bath, so are they.” With one ceremonious plump after another, each rubber toy splashed with the water as every saltwater creature was made acquainted with its freshwater home. Emily was next pulling off her shirt while Joyce had her pants and underwear sliding off all in the same stroke. “You’re getting in too,” Emily reminded her by undoing the button on Joyce’s jeans. And without the strength or will to reverse the process, Joyce undid the zipper next. “Okay…fine. You win.” “What? Do you not wanna take a bath with me that badly?” “Obviously not,” off came her shirt, “but I figured maybe with one less thing to play with you might actually try out your new toys!” “I’ll play with them…!” Emily groaned with her hands slapping the surface of the soapy water. “Are you sure they’re souvenirs for me, by the way? Kinda just seems like something you want to see me with…” “And I almost might have agreed with you, had you not been squeezing one of them just now,” Joyce was smiling ear to ear, catching Emily red-handed, or crab-handed specifically, who didn’t even realize just how aimless and distracted her hands were. Suddenly some of the local aquatic life was soaring across the tub with another splash. “It’s still a fair question…” “A question that will remain a mystery,” Joyce sufficed with a pat on Emily’s bare bum. “Now hop in. If we’re quick we can still fit in lunch!” And while managing lunch into such a tight timeframe was a questionable squeeze, somehow two adults and an armful of bath toys into a massive tub was not. The realization alone was enough to make Emily laugh as she smacked the water again. “It’s kinda like an ocean if you think about it?” “An ocean that barely has any life in it…” Joyce looked at the spread glumly. The unfortunate drawback to having a big tub was the steep number of toys that was needed to fill it. “I should have bought you more…” While she was feeling awfully proud in the store with so many toys, her imagination had clearly sold her bathroom short. “It’s fine,” Emily said, swiping a toy as she scooched right up against Joyce in the water. “You really set the bar so high for yourself in the weirdest ways, ya know…” “It’s because I care,” Joyce kissed the top of her head, reaching outside the tub for an empty cup. “Besides, what I love about you so much is how you’re always fidgeting with something,” she chuckled, “so I really do think these are great for you.” Whether it was Pip, a puzzle, a pillow, or Joyce herself, Emily in her blankest of moments always was busying herself with something, whether she realized it or not. But most importantly, a justified reason for babying Emily? Quite simply that put Mommy over the moon, and for Emily it put her head in a weird, cushy space. Just as a soapy dribble was starting to trickle onto Emily’s head, she started to ask, “So when are you gonna–!” Yet the trickle had grown into something more than that; a full on waterfall over the girl, now with wet hair in her face. “Sorry? You were saying?” “When,” Emily draped back her hair like they were curtains, “are you gonna tell me what actually happened last night?” “I already did?” “No you didn’t. Joyce? We promised? No more lies?” “...Is it really a lie if I just don’t tell you anything at all…?” “Yes, it is.” All Joyce did was take a breath, scooping another soapy helping of water and splashing it all over Emily’s head again. Joyce was stalling again. Emily grouched, “Hey.” “We still have to get you clean?” Joyce smiled above her innocently. “Fine,” Emily huffed, picking herself up and spinning around. She took her time in tugging Joyce’s legs out and positioning them just right to make herself a nice comfy lap to sit in. And just so the pressure stayed strong, Emily sat herself squarely in front of Joyce. Face to face. “Let’s make a deal, Miss businesswoman.” That made the adult narrow her eyes. “Hey.” “You tell me what happened last night,” Emily started, then squeezed, suddenly surprising herself once a stream of water went flying. “Ah!” Joyce yelped the moment it just barely hit her eye. “Emily!” Surprised and amazed, Emily looked down at the toy. “I didn’t know they squirted…! Sorry…!” And as apologetic as she was on paper, her giggles made her remorse seem questionable. Joyce’s answer was another cupful of water over Emily’s head. “Well they do!” It was a fair rebuttal and Emily was giggling the entire time, all the way up until Joyce finished wiping her face with a towel. “Squirt those the other way, please?” “Sure, sure,” Emily nodded dismissively, sure to break such a fickle rule again shortly, “but back to brass tacks. Tell me what happened, and…” And…something along the lines of making a deal that she had yet to fully think through. A prime reason for why she wasn’t the one wearing the business pants. “And I’ll tell you his name,” Emily held up a face Joyce was already less than fond of. The octopus responsible for sending a stream of water in her face. “So if I tell you about last night, you’ll tell me about your bath toy?” “Fair, right?” Damn it. Yes, it somehow was. “...Fine.” Emily’s skin rubbed against Joyce’s as she got somehow comfier than she already was. And just as Joyce was about to start– “--Wait!” Emily cried, “Hold this first!” She shot first and asked questions later, shoving the octopus toy into Joyce’s hand. “Okay, okay. Ready for real!” And now with her hands free, her imagination was left unhindered to spin and weave many different threads into something purely magical. Grouping clumps of soap bubbles, Emily got to work while she listened. “--And she just said it. Right in the open. She accused me! She…she just asked if I was a mommy on the spot…!” “Wait, so like, she just figured it out?” Emily asked with a wide-eyed expression. “But she just met you?” “Yes!” Joyce flexed her shoulders with an exasperated sigh. A tickle reached her nose though and she was immediately blowing on it. “Oops, sorry,” Emily wiped her face for her, leaving even more soap behind than what she removed, “my brush isn’t so good…” she looked at her soapy fingers. “What are you doing up there, anyway?” “Find out later. So what was her name? Isabelle? I…I guess that’s really weird. She could actually just tell from looking at you?” “I don’t know…” Joyce sighed again, wanting to sink lower in the water, had she not been balancing a naked Mozart in her lap. “I just…it felt so…violating? Like, who was she to just ask me that? To keep asking?” “Did you ask her to stop?” As silly as it was, vocally revoking consent was important. “Yes! W-well…sort of… I told her to stop…I think…” Then came another embarrassing admission. “But I kept answering every time she tried to guess… But wait, why aren’t you upset? Doesn’t that freak you out? That somebody else knows?” “Aren’t they just a stranger?” Maybe she had gone insane or there were simply too many bubbles on her mind, but Emily was steadfast on the course of simply just listening. It wasn’t often when she got to be Joyce’s complete sounding board, so it was awfully important she make the most of it. So somehow, miraculously, despite an encounter with someone like Joyce’s mom, yes, this wasn’t affecting her. “They are…” Which in itself is an immense relief. It’s what probably allowed her to leave the anxiety back in the state she flew from and just needed to deal with whatever residual worries she had now. “Maybe she was like a kinky whisperer, or something,” Emily thought out loud, fussing with Joyce’s head some more. “Hey, do you want to be a unicorn or a wizard?” “Emily.” Now wasn’t the time for funny hat discussion. “Okay, I’ll choose,” Emily continued on. “But no, I guess I’m not really worried… She doesn’t know us, and we don’t know her? I mean, isn’t there some kind of risk involved in going to stuff like that?” “Sure, I mean yeah, but…” “I mean, I’ll be honest,” Emily paused to swipe away the toy shark starting to sneak its way in. Octopi obviously weren’t friends with sharks. “I think me not having gone makes it a lot easier to be calm, but I guess I sort of have a broader perspective because of it…?” “Fair,” Joyce nodded carefully, trying not to mess up whatever her little girl was working on up there. Whatever it was, the distinct clearing of bubble-less water around them said that she was using quite a bit of material. “Did you only go because Carol invited you?” Emily asked a bit more seriously. “The other day when we were in bed and we were talking before you left. You were sort of joking about that babysitter stuff, weren’t you?” Joyce didn’t answer readily, so Emily tacked on some more. “...Did…did you want to get found out?” A dribble from the faucet plopped into the water. “No. No. Definitely not. No! No, this stuff is a secret. It stays between us. I don’t want anyone to find out!” No one more than who needs to, at least! “It’s private, Emily, I promise. I wouldn’t do that. I went because of Carol. Sure, I was a little curious, but really, it was only for that. Just that. Seriously.” And it was one of those rare moments where not only did Emily get to look down on her partner, literally, but in that same circumstance it was another opportunity to see her rock look so flustered. Emily took the chance to swab some bubbles on the tip of her nose, to which Joyce partly sneezed. “Emily…!” “Sorry, I don’t get to do stuff like this often!” Emily was thinking something, and Joyce was too. Joyce was thinking what she thought Emily was, and all that remained was for the baby in charge to say it herself. “I don’t think you’re being honest with yourself,” Emily casually chatted as she moved on to the final detailing of her masterpiece. “No, I am being honest.” Joyce proclaimed. “This stuff is private, Emily.” “So why did you let her keep asking you?” Emily drilled, and Joyce winced, for once not from the soap. “--Because she wouldn’t stop pressuring me!” “But you could’ve walked away?” “She had us sitting!” Emily’s mouth tucked itself behind her cheek. A poor excuse for even Emily’s standards, and Joyce was avoiding eye contact. “Can I try guessing?” Now the one acting all demure and vulnerable, Joyce pouted, “You’re gonna even if I tell you not to…” “I think you did want someone to know. Since talking to me the night before, or maybe even earlier than that, since Carol told us about this whole thing. I think you wanted to meet somebody that knows this kind of stuff. Someone that gets what being a mommy is like.” “...You’re upset with me, aren’t you?” “...Kind of,” Emily admitted, “but I guess also not so much. Joyce, I don’t know how much you actually talk to other people about this kind of stuff.” After all, half the mystery and wonder of getting an entire tailored nursery was not knowing nearly anything about what went into getting it all put together. “But you know yourself best, and all I can do is guess, so… My guess is that you wanted something out of this. You wanted to find something close to what we do… What we have together?” Amazing what a different perspective on things could do for a person. A fearful voice spoke, “And…and if I said you were right…?” “Then I’d want ice cream,” Emily declared, “no exceptions. That, and I think you must’ve been scared because you actually got what you wanted? I think I’d probably stop breathing if I was there in that moment… But anyway, you got what you wanted and it scared you? I dunno why, but that’s my guess.” “It was scary…like– If she could just guess so easily, what’s stopping anyone else from figuring it out?” “Maybe she knew how to guess because of the kind of event it was,” Emily shrugged. “I guess I’m upset because you tried taking things to the next level without actually telling me, Joyce… But since it was with a stranger, it doesn’t bother me so much…” “I…I don’t know what I was thinking… I don’t even know what I wanted. Is it weird? Ever since Carol told us about it at their house…I’ve been thinking constantly…there has to be more to this, right?” They weren’t the only two in the world? Adult baby furniture existed online for a reason. Giant pacifiers, big baby bottles. Stylized diapers for adults. “I…I wanted to find something that maybe we didn’t have yet…” “Maybe you sorta did, but I think you kinda ran from it,” Emily finally dropped her hands. “Okay, I’m done, but no looking until we get out of the bath!” “I need to wash my hair, Emily…” “Then do it after you finish washing me!” “Fine, you win,” Joyce gave up easily with a smile, finding her cup again. “Thank you for picking at my brain…” “Thanks for not exposing us,” Emily giggled, then turned her head. “W-wait! I’m kidding! It’s a joke!” A douse of water was promptly dumped on her head. No more lip from Emily after that. Sensitive topics were strategically avoided for the remainder of bath time after that. A little bit later and Joyce’s upper half was leaning out of the tub as she tried to squint at the mirror. “Is…is it a unicorn horn?” A very thick and stubby one, it seemed. “Half-right!” Emily beamed with pride. “A horn and a hat! You didn’t choose so I gave you both!” “Well,” Joyce turned her head every which way like she was modeling a summer-season set of fashion, “very chique, but a bit out of style, I think… Can Mommy wash it off now?” “At least compliment it!” Emily groaned, “and yes, you can.” Right before giving herself a shower of water, Joyce kissed Emily on the lips. “Thank you for such a pretty hat…horn hat.” And while Joyce took some time to clean herself, Emily casually piddle-paddled around the tub. “Ah! Wait?” Joyce called from her spot. Emily looked over and Joyce was holding up the toy octopus. “We had a deal, didn’t we? What’s his name?” “Oh. Uhh…Inky.” Obviously. Then she gave Joyce a toothy grin. “Cuz he squirts?” After pursing her lips, suddenly a thin stream of assault was firing across the tub. “Ah! Joyce! Mercy! Mommy! Stop!” Bath time didn’t last much longer. And later as Joyce was drying them both off, a new and uncomfortable subject had arisen. “Oh, and speaking of all that misbehavior in the tub, that reminds me,” Joyce rubbed Emily’s head with a towel. “I think I may have made a slight mistake before leaving for the airport…” “Yeah?” “Mhm. I don’t think you noticed, surely, but I forgot to lock the nursery shut…” Uh-oh. Play dumb, Emily. “R-really? That’s unlike you…” “Yes, it really is. I know you didn’t unlock it because I kept the key with me. Unless you’ve been learning how to pick locks?” “Ha-ha, very funny,” Emily crudely joked, secretly glad for keeping her act so well together. “No, I didn’t even notice. Be glad Sheila didn’t either.” “Even if she did, I doubt she’d snoop,” Joyce continued casually, and froze her hands the moment she had them over Emily’s arms. “But…you wouldn’t believe the weirdest thing that I saw?” “What’s that?” “This cute little foot peeking from underneath our bed! In fact, I just saw it when I went to get your bath toys from my suitcase!” A cold sweat hit the girl. “Uh…huh?” “Uh-huh,” Joyce nodded, continuing to dry a frightened Emily. Now that her therapy was done she felt free and unchained to use and assert her dominance yet again, and how wonderfully sweet of Emily to give her the opportunity to boot. “It was a cute, fuzzy blue foot, actually! A furry one! Almost like…a pair of footie pajamas we keep in your nursery?” Shit! When Sheila had her undress, it was a mad dash back to the bedroom just to get it off. It was trying to reason with herself that she’d go stash it back in the nursery once Sheila left…! Then once she did, Joyce had called and…well, she forgot. The next morning? She still forgot! “...You left it unlocked, so I guessed–” “--So you guessed?” Joyce leaned in close and over just to show Emily her look of feigned disbelief. “You thought because Mommy left your nursery open, you were allowed in there by yourself?” “Y…yeah…?” Suddenly she wasn’t so good at keeping her act together anymore. “Hmm…” Joyce hummed thoughtfully, radiating on Emily’s skin like a lingering panic. “W-we both did some stuff we probably shouldn’t have?” “Sort of, but I think where we differ is you know you’re not supposed to do what you did.” Joyce tapped her shoulder thoughtfully, making the girl flinch. “I…I’m sorry?” “And I’m sorry for giving you the chance to misbehave,” Joyce said solemnly. “So because it’s partially my fault, I’ll let you off easy tonight.” Thank goodness. “Really?” “Uh-huh. So, you’ll be going to bed. Early. After you’re diapered and we have dinner tonight.” “That early?” Emily openly cried. “Joyce! Please!” “Don’t Joyce me! You made your choice, Emily, and now you have to live with the consequences. Would it make you feel any better if I still went and got that ice cream?” “Really?” And suddenly things were right as rain again, until at least the dairy treat ran out later that night. “Yes, but we’re diapering you first before we take the car ride.” That had her pouting. “No pouting, either. Be happy I’m letting you off with just that…” she warned. Ice cream secured, but at what cost? “Here are today’s notes for the next meeting, ma’am,” Sheila handed off a manila envelope, to which Joyce accepted. “Thank you,” Joyce took them, though promptly set them to the side. And just as Sheila was about to leave, “Oh, Sheila? Could you stay for just a second?” Joyce was always good at sounding how she wanted to, but herself like every other person had far less skill at hiding any sort of undertone or ulterior feelings. Needless to say, Sheila could tell something was up, and unfortunately she had a confident feeling for what it was. But she stayed calm anyway. “Yes?” “Have a seat, please,” Joyce smiled, waiting for her secretary to park herself, right in front of her boss. It was quiet for a moment, save for the stare Joyce was giving her employee. Innocent, somewhat, but the hidden messages were far too strong for Sheila not to recognize and bear some kind of pressure. Maybe it was facing her consequences in real time that was suddenly taking the woman off her high, or maybe it was the well-needed reality check that she was about to get. A further word had yet to be spoken, nor a direct reference to just a couple nights prior needed be said for Sheila to already feel a steady stream of oncoming regret. She crossed a line. Big time. A very dangerous line. A line that separated a very private life from what Sheila had been so carefully and selectively allowed to aid and assist in. For just a second, it was quiet enough to hear a pin hit the floor. “Were you able to get what you needed from my house?” And are you ready to tell me what else you did while you were there? “...Yes.” No. “It didn’t take you long, did it?” Which was longer: using my computer or using my stove? “No…” Putting together the salad probably took longer… Joyce rested her hands on her desk, nodding thoughtfully, though not quite hearing what she was expecting. This was an issue. A big issue. A lack of honesty. A lack of loyalty? As far as Joyce knew, it wasn’t even a red flag, necessarily. Sure, she was treating this like an interrogation, but it’s not like her secretary had committed a crime. But it was certainly weird. Was there some kind of misunderstanding? Meanwhile, in Sheila’s mind: She knows. Ms. Summers knows. Did Emily tell her? Tell her everything? Did she see me snooping in her nursery? Did she say all the things I said about her? Crap…crud…shit. While Joyce was devising the best way to tease her employee, Sheila was already formulating a new resume. It wouldn’t be the first time Sheila had cared for Emily, given that Joyce was coerced into letting her take Emily off to bed during that business dinner. For Sheila to do anything like that of her own accord though was…interesting. Harmless? But weird. So with those thoughts in mind, Joyce cracked a grin as she said, “Sheila, I know that–” “--I’m sorry!” It was an immediate, knee-jerk response from the secretary. Her head drooped in just the slightest like her bowing posture could signal any more remorse than just her words could alone. Joyce rested her hand on the desk, looking a bit awkward. “...You’re sorry?” “I’m sorry.” Sheila repeated with much heavier resolve. “I crossed a line that I shouldn’t have. It was wrong, disrespectful and a gross misuse of my privileges…!” Was there actual recourse from this? In what way did it end in just this career burning down? How in the hell could she secure a living wage if she’d be effectively labeled as a snooper and a sneak? Her boss had to have known, otherwise they wouldn’t be having this conversation! “Sh-Sheila…?” Joyce raised her brow, taken aback by the profuse and sudden apology. Sheila was as humble as a person got, but this was Joyce’s first time seeing her apologize like this. Take off Emily’s diaper and put a big girl suit on her, and just maybe the feeling right now would be similar. “I’m not mad… I was just–” “--I have no excuse…! I…I did something I shouldn’t have, but I promise I won’t tell anyone! I’ll honor my NDA, I promise!” Christ, how was she going to explain this to Greg without being able to explain anything at all? Fired for snooping in her boss’ apartment and finding out that all the [REDACTED] she had made was actually for her boss’ girlfriend for her very own [REDACTED]? And because Sheila was so devoted, and Joyce knew that far too well, now the boss was starting to second guess herself. Was there more to this? More than Emily had let on to? More that Sheila had kept from Emily? And with a final hope, Joyce tested the waters. “Sheila…it’s okay if you stayed to have dinner with Emily…” She let the words sit. Permeate. Cure or dispel whatever worries her secretary may have been having. Bring back the calm and collected person that she knew and expected her to be. But a sinking feeling simply kept on plummeting as the look on Sheila’s face did not change. The remorse didn’t fade, not because Joyce couldn’t dispel her worries, but because she had yet to hit the nail on the head, and that was slowly becoming apparent. “Sheila?” “I’m sorry…!” she apologized unyieldingly once again. “I promise, I have not nor will I ever tell anyone!” It was suddenly worrying beyond a scope for what Joyce could perceive or imagine. Now her emotions were getting the better of her. Never once had she ever seen her strongest link so easily frazzled. If it was enough to make Sheila panic then there wasn’t a single object in the world that could withstand what she could not. Yet with quiet hesitation, Joyce pulled out her phone, taking herself to a program and a place she thought she’d been given enough honesty and clarity to stay away from. But apparently not. Strolling down memory lane, she opened up the archived footage from just 48 hours prior and started skimming. Skimming through seeing herself leave for the airport. Skimming through dead silence in the apartment, finding Emily in her footie pajamas that she wasn’t supposed to be in, napping on the couch… Sheila arriving… Sheila heading to the office… Sheila…not heading to the office…. Sheila entering the…the unlocked… Like her eyes had deceived her, Joyce blinked, re-watching the short snippet one last time, like it was some bizarre crossover she could never in a thousand years expect. This wasn’t real, right? Surely the footage had been Photoshopped? Was the lack of audio corrupted? Was that why the video was leading her astray? Quietly, shaken and unsure, Joyce set down her phone. Bewildered and beside herself, arriving at a complete and total blank. Sheila, her most trusted and closest employee of countless years, now before her, tail between her legs and with a look of guilt so heavy and so potent that Joyce wished the skyscraper’s windows so high up could actually open. So many questions. So many. So many problems. So very few solutions. Were there any solutions at all? Suspension? Termination? Terminate Sheila? Sheila? Fired? Joyce’s eyes couldn’t stop wandering, and Sheila’s wouldn’t leave the floor. As Joyce tried to compose herself, Sheila tried to remain as still as possible. She wasn’t curious anymore. She got what she had wanted. Realization. Satisfaction. Discovery and pleasure. All at the cost of flying far too close to the sun. She’d stepped beyond what she was allowed and now it was time to face the immediate consequences. The end of her cushy wage and well-lived career. “I…” The words were hardly coming to the boss, but her thoughts more or less seemed to stay in tact. This needed to be resolved. Now. Immediately. Get their bearings and figure out just what exactly was going to happen from here. Whether this really constituted a wide-scale issue or could somehow be mitigated into something else. She knew about the diapers, but now the nursery, too? She had to know now. What it was all for; what it all meant. But she couldn’t go unpunished, right? She couldn’t just be let off the hook for something so inappropriate…! Joyce closed her mouth for a moment, then opened it once again. “C…Cancel my next meeting.” And possibly cancel the entire day. By the end of her sentence Sheila couldn’t have been moving any faster than her heels would let her. “Bring your laptop back in here,” Joyce added before she could leave. For the first time in Sheila’s working career and personal tenure with Joyce, she was about to receive a disciplinary discussion. A very strange one at that. It would be a very awkward discussion. 20 2 Link to comment
YourFNF Posted October 5, 2022 Share Posted October 5, 2022 9 hours ago, Mee said: or the first time in Sheila’s working career and personal tenure with Joyce, she was about to receive a disciplinary discussion. A very strange one at that. It would be a very awkward discussion. 4 Link to comment
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