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Hi everybody! As a long time lurker and even longer writer for my own enjoyment, I finally got the push to actually share something. It couldn't have been done without the help of some writer friends, /u/Sissybecky (r/abdlstories) who beta read and Clairanette (aka Clairacuddles on A03), talking to both of them for hours about writing. Check them out too!


Scarlet is a young woman down on her luck. She has a broken heart, bank account, and sex life. Her luck finally seems to be changing when she is offered a job on the outher side of the country, and really has no option but to take it. But what she doesn't know about the city of Caulfield Valley may get her in trouble, like what her new boss, Emilia Kane, secretly does as a side hussle. 

a slowburn, long form lesbian fic that is very kinky and ABDL oriented.


1- so it feels real


            There is both terror and freedom in restarting your life. Not in a cosmic sense, but in the moving-across-the-country-and-leaving-everyone-you-knew-on-the-opposite-coast sense. That is where Scarlet found herself this morning. Eyes red from her jetlag, hair a mess from the uncomfortable seats, and a puffy-eyed death stare meeting her from the scratched bathroom mirror. Even with her fresh start, the fresh apartment, she was not ready for her first day at a new job in this new, unfamiliar city. She wanted to sleep. She wanted to forget. She wanted to go back to her home with—a pang of heartbreak through her chest interrupted the thought. That home was no longer there, and no one was waiting for her to come home.

            Instead, Scarlet let out a dejected sigh, opened the cardboard moving box that contained the toiletries that were not in her carry-on, and got in the shower. She was up far earlier than she realistically needed to be, to make sure she could wash her hair, shave her legs, and still have plenty of time for makeup and a relaxed cab ride to work. The pipes whined and hot water splashed her face as the new-ish utilities sprung to life. She focused on getting the sleep out of her eyes.


      She resented her own anxious, over-prepare-until-exhausted tendencies. Yet Scarlet knew that on mornings where she didn’t do this, she was late. It was part of why she’d lost her last position as a Library clerk. God, that feels like a lifetime ago. If I started taking those then…what if... Scarlet let the thought drift up with the steam, and focused on the rigorous maintenance that her curly, shoulder-length bob required. The rest of the shower went likewise. She would move on to some other form of self-grooming, only for another intrusive thought to appear, and she would do her best to let it roll off of her. By the time she was done, dripping into a towel and stepping out, she had gotten most of the self loathing scrubbed off. Scarlet turned to face the same mirror. She wiped the fogged glass with one pale hand, and the same dead-eyed look greeted her. Scarlet forced a smile, hollow but just enough to come across as courteous and eager, rather than like a retail worker who was dead inside. She had plenty of practice masking in this way.


     Her breakfast was a microwaved cup of coffee and protein bar, the leftovers from her flight. She’d have to go to the grocery after work. She ate just enough to then turn to her prescriptions, the small, resentful white triangles tasting bitter and frustrating, her knowing that it was a 50/50 on whether she would be vomiting before lunch. The three small blue estrogen pills had to melt sublingually, and wouldn’t upset her stomach. They did, however, taste like minty asshole as they dissolved under her tongue while she started her makeup routine. It went quickly, Scarlet’s old “professional” looks still in her head after years of rushed mornings where her mediocre nutrition and makeup routine battled for time. Her hands danced; brushing, patting, dabbing, blending, and setting at a quick but deliberate pace.

            This wasn’t Scarlet’s first time working places that made her tone down her looks and cover her smattering of artsy tattoos that criss crossed her arms. Her new boss had assured her however, that so long as she wore at least business casual and none of the tattoos visible were profane, no one would care. Simple enough to cover the guillotine on her shoulder blade or the shoddy stick and poke of her highschool bff’s band “The Fart Coffins” on the opposite blade. She only sometimes regretted that one out of any of the designs on her body.  She finished with a modest amount of very neutral blush, and got up to dress in the outfit she had laid out the night before. A simple white blouse and black skirt, black tie, black flats. Should show a good first impression for a secretary of a legal office. She couldn’t help but roll the sleeves partially, however, showing hints and edges of her ink.


      Scarlet made sure her hair was dry, shook her head as a jolt of the last taste of estrogen left her mouth, and called for her cab. Just before leaving, she packed her purse, and heard an unfamiliar jingling at the bottom. Fishing through the myriad receipts, dust bunnies and half finished chapsticks, she finally found the culprit, and her heart dropped. A simple gold ring, with an inscription inside; Futile – the winds –/ To a Heart in port –The singular band was heavy in her hand, and Scarlet felt the heartbreak all over again. She wanted nothing more than to scream. She wanted to sob until her throat was hoarse, to wail in pain. She wanted to call her. Instead, she tenderly wiped the welling tear in one eye to preserve her mascara, roughly threw open the drawer to toss the precious bomb in with a clatter. The front door slammed and locked behind her. 

            The cab hummed quietly as it rode down the dense city streets, and Scarlet focused on taking in the sites of tree leaves slowly changing color through the cab window. She was headed further downtown from her new apartment, and even still there were beautiful trees she wasn’t familiar with. This is exactly what I thought the East Coast to look like, and yet it’s even more beautiful than I could have imagined, she mused to herself. She was used to her hometown in the Bay, the palms and pines of the San Francisco and Oakland areas all she had made friends with until now. The trees were dotted in front of the tall downtown shops, looking like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting. She took a picture every now and again, killing time until her quiet cab driver pulled over to a sidewalk. Scarlet smoothed her skirt, handed the man his fare and a tip, and stepped out in front of a small office building. Her flats echoed against the shiny, reflective tile as she followed signs and elevator directories to Kane Arbitration & Mediation Legal Services.  The interior of the elevator shined, polished enough that Scarlet could see her own reflection.


      She took a moment as she rode to the fourth floor, using the reflection to adjust her skirt. She was so tall that no matter what she wore, it always eventually turned into a skirt shorter than intended, and that was the last thing she wanted to project on her first day.  Once the soft fabric was in place, better resting on her hips and covering much of her long thighs, she noticed she had arrived. Scarlet swallowed, her nerves making it louder than she had wanted, and exited as the doors parted.


     Kane Legal was one of the only offices on this floor, and it didn’t take her long to find, but she paused outside the door anyway. She took solace in the fact her new employer wouldn’t be able to see her through the doors frosted glass. Scarlet had a moment to steady the shaking in her hands.


     There’s nothing left for you back there. This has to work. You have no other option. The thought was supposed to be comforting.


     She opened the door and recalled all the times that thought would light a fire in her—to ignite the contrarian and spiteful nature she had to anyone that doubted her. A year ago, this would have made her unstoppable…but the last year was harder than she could have ever predicted.

            The reception area of the office was nicely decorated, looking like the kind you’d see on a mid-budget daytime law drama. No one was at the desk that she assumed would be hers, so she tried to peer around a corner leading to what she assumed would be Miss Kane’s proper office. Sure enough, a door at the end of the hall was open and revealed a head of deep black hair peaking just over the top of a large computer monitor. Scarlet took a moment for them to notice her. 

            In another life, Scarlet would have confidently marched into the office, head held high, with enough swagger to convince anyone that she owned this office. Now the poor girl stood there, shivering as her future awaited. The Scarlet of a year ago would have left this newer Scarlet behind, just like the one she cared about the most. She prayed this wasn’t some kind of test.


     “Excuse me?” She called out, causing the head to twitch, “I’m looking for Miss Kane?”


     The top of the head rose for a pair of eyes to see just over the top, and then a hand brusquely slid the monitor on a pivoting stand out of the way. Scarlet recognized her now, the telltale hazel, almost golden eyes and a striking streak of platinum blonde to one side having stuck with her since their video interview.

            “And you have found her.” Her voice merrily sang, reverberating down the tiled hall. She stood. “You must be Ms. Finch. I am so glad to finally get you out here. May I be the first to properly welcome you to Caulfield Valley, I hope your flight was smooth?”

            Scarlet was immediately put off balance, having to look up at someone for once. Even if Emilia Kane hadn’t been in imposing black heels, she would easily have three inches on the six feet even Scarlet. She effortlessly glided down the hall towards Scarlet, her hand outstretched. Scarlet met her, returning her’s for a handshake. The taller woman’s hands were so soft.

     “Ah, t-thank you, Ma’am.” She politely smiled, and decided to rest her hands on the strap of her purse so as to not fidget. “I appreciate that, it was a long flight.” She wanted to divulge how exhausted and sore she was, but held back.


     “That is such a shame.” Emilia twisted her mouth into a concerned frown for a moment, a hand grabbing her chin in thought. “If you ever need to fly for me again, I can make sure you have better accommodations. Thankfully, your first day probably will not be too demanding. I am hoping to simply get you familiar with the way I organize best and have you operating at full speed before my next big meeting in…,” She checked the date on her phone, pulling it from the breast pocket of her dark green suit, “-three days. Does all that sound good?”

            Scarlet sighed in relief. “More than good, Ma’am, I’m sure I can be up to snuff by the end of the day.” She was a tiny bit surprised by how confident she sounded.

            “Oh please, Ma’am makes me feel old.” She waved a hand as if shooing the notion away, “I know to most it is respectful, but I prefer ‘Miss’ or just Emilia if it is all the same to you.” She rested the same hand now on her hips, which Scarlet noted were surprisingly accented in this type of suit. She nodded in response, and Emilia gestured for her to sit in the chair behind the receptionist desk.


     The woman looked like she was off a runway, the two piece suit and platinum jewelry complimenting her intense eyes and the vibrant streak of silver- no, platinum blonde in her hair. The hazel of her eyes became almost amber-gold as the light from the windows caught them. When her new employer wasn’t looking, she shook her head to erase the thoughts. Scarlet couldn’t exactly be thinking about how attractive her boss was if she didn’t want to risk her new living situation.


     “—and your last employer said you were familiar with all of these programs, is that right?” The question snapped Scarlet back to reality as Emilia motioned to the open windows of the computer.


     “That’s right. All of this is right in my wheelhouse.” Scarlet affirmed, grateful that the job didn’t seem to have any sudden surprises. “And this looks like a pretty standard inter-office set up on the phones as well. Would you prefer a call or a ping on your computer when you have a call or a client?” She hoped the question would help make her seem competent and ‘a go-getter,’ something her father had told her once upon a time about starting a new job.

            “A call is fine unless I am already with a client. If I do not respond, you may call regardless.” Emilia said, a small smile of approval spreading across her red lips. “On the topic of clients, occasionally you are to sit in for meetings and you will be taking notes. These are legal matters and meet the standard of attorney-client-privilege. So it is vitally important you understand that anything you hear or write down in those meetings are confidential, but could end up under scrutiny if we were ever to be sued or subpoenaed. Are you comfortable with that?”


     “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.” Scarlet nodded, “To be clear, any notes I take are private between you and I unless that happens right? Like—” she kicked herself for her valleygirl filler word, and tried to recover, “a doctor? For example, I wouldn’t talk about this with anyone except you or the client, even during off hours?” Scarlet couldn’t lie to herself and say that didn’t make her anxious. Her understanding of the legal system told her there were a million and one ways to mess up proceedings if everyone didn’t know them ahead of time. The clarity would help alleviate that anxiety.


            “Exactly. We can talk about it informally outside of the office but we must use discretion. God forbid  you run into a client at a bar, make sure neither of you are shouting without realizing. However you got the most important part. Good job.”  Something inside Scarlet warmed at her new boss’s approval. Emilia’s phone lit up and began ringing in her hand. She rolled her eyes. “I have to take this,” she explained, grabbing a small packet from the top drawer of the desk, “Just answer the phone if any calls come in and start filling this out with your info so I can make payments and records and such. It will only take a moment!” Emilia walked back up the hall, closing the door of her office. Scarlet could hear her talking in a tone that sounded professional and even, but couldn’t make out anything specific.


     When Scarlet realized she could not eavesdrop, no matter how hard she tried to focus, she instead grabbed a pen from the desk and focused on the forms. They were typical of starting with any new employer: tax info, new address, signing agreements. Scarlet was sorely missing the over-designed packets she would receive on her first day at each of the oversized chain stores she had grown up working at. The kind that tries to convince the reader that “we’re a family here,” isn’t the same as “your boss will not give a single shit about you if you think for yourself.” They were always a riot to laugh at with her fellow cashiers, clerks, and baristas.



     Everything was astonishingly professional, and felt tailored to the tiny law office. The forms were of course up to every standard Scarlet was aware of, but everything appeared handwritten and then copied from a master document. The young woman marveled at the curves and loops that seemed so practiced, so official. Calligraphy as a hobby?


     Scarlet’s daydream was broken as the phone rang. Her arm sprung to life, grabbing the phone and bringing it to her ear. “Hello, Legal Offices of Miss Kane, how can I help you?” Her mind auto piloted the greeting, a tactic she’d learned as a young adult to perform before any social anxiety made her hesitate to answer.


     There was a silent beat, broken only by soft background hum from the receiver. A deeper voice finally spoke. “Oh, is Miss Kane not in?”


     “I’m sorry, she’s stepped away for another call. I’m the new secretary.” The professional mask came back to her like a second skin, despite over a year of disuse. “Can I take a message for you?”  Scarlet offered.


     “Er,” The voice stammered for a moment, then clarified, “Yeah. Actually, you can tell her that I have to back out of Friday’s meeting, I won’t be rescheduling. She can keep the deposit. Goodbye.” Scarlet busied herself scribbling the note down.


     “Wait, I’ll need to tell her your name.” She tried to catch the man before he disconnected.


      It was too late, the line went dead. Scarlet took a confused look at the receiver before returning it to the cradle. She tried to imagine what would have someone behaving this way, but even her previous customer support and retail work did not track here. Scarlet merely blinked in confusion and returned to filling her new employment forms. She could hear the muffled speech of her new boss, not able to pick distinct words, only cadence. The forms were dull and simple enough, and before too long Emilia’s office door clicked open.


     Scarlet was finishing the bottom lines of the last page, hoping quietly to impress the imposing woman, as childish as that want may be. Emilia’s heels marked her approach down the hall, and Scarlet spun gracefully in her swivel chair to face her. “Did I hear a call come in while I was gone?”


     “You did, and I've got a message,” Scarlet tried her best to sound professional yet nonchalant, “your Friday meeting canceled, said to keep his deposit.” She looked up to Emilia to gauge her superior’s reaction. Emilia gave nothing but a solitary eyebrow twitch. “He didn’t leave a name and hung up…is that normal?”


     “Whether it’s normal or not, we get to keep the deposit for my time, and that’s what matters to me.” Emilia said, too hurried to be as casual. Scarlet decided to just let that slip.There was something going on here, but she would catch the intricacies of the client relationships soon enough.


      Emilia very pointedly avoided her gaze to check the time, and excused herself again. The rest of the day moved slowly, save for asking Scarlet for a coffee run in the afternoon, which turned into buying a cafe scone for Scarlet’s lunch as well.


      She busied herself with memorizing the upcoming schedule, the program, and the routine expected of her. She tried not to fidget as the caffeine had its way with her later in the day. The bouncing of her leg coincided with an increase in worry. Would she have another reaction to this medication like her last, and be unable to sleep? Would Emilia be angry that she wasn’t being proactive in some way? How was she supposed to know? She paused, trying to stop ruminating. She lifted her hands away from the keyboard. They were shaking, and she squeezed her eyes closed. When Scarlet opened them, they focused through her fingers, at the sticky note she had written down the message, and the smaller coffee order beneath it. Sighing, she wrote down the coffee order on her phone and on her desktop notepad. If she could do nothing, she would be constructive and prepared for the future.


     Her hands kept shaking for the remainder of the shift. Scarlet wasn’t sure if it was the anxiety, the caffeine, or her meds. She’d been so isolated until moving she hadn’t noticed if the shaking started then. Just past five, Emilia’s heels clicked down the hall, a smart designer purse over one shoulder. “Now, is there anything I can clarify before we leave?” Her voice sang again and the hall reverberated in tune with her voice like Brian Eno was behind it. Scarlet shook her head, smiling with her mask back on as she spun to face Emilia again.


     “Thank you so much, but I don’t think I’ve got any questions yet.” Scarlet wanted to be sincere in thanking her, drop the facade and business-casual tone. Speaking without rehearsal tended to bite her in the ass lately.  She squeezed her hands between her thighs to try and avoid any probing questions. Scarlet could only imagine suspicious and overbearing concern at best if her new boss thought there was something wrong with her medically.


     “Is there anything else I can help with? I’ve just been organizing your schedule and getting used to the layout in here all day.” She desperately wanted to get her groceries before it was too dark.


     “No thank you, Scarlet. You’ve already helped me enormously, you have no idea.” Emilia ushered Scarlet out the door, and locked it behind her.


*  *


     If one thing in the world could be counted on, it was chain stores being identical on the inside. Scarlet pushed an identically squeaky cart up identically packed aisles among indistinguishable brands. The only difference really seemed to be the accents. She approached bulk rice bags, hesitated, and drew out her phone with dread. Her meager bank account balance confirmed her fears, and she begrudgingly went for the generic. Other staples like cheap instant ramen and pasta followed suit. The sole splurge was the cheapest, sweetest, garbage brand of red wine she could find.


     Her cab ride was identical, save for the setting sun behind her. Purples and oranges and cotton-candy-clouds danced behind her, out of view, as she slowly sank her head against the cool glass of the window. At least the trees are still pretty. She raised her phone again to try and take a picture, but the camera went grainy in the growing dark.


     Her new apartment greeted her with the same lonely  tone as when she first received the keys. It was cold, it was empty, the furnishings were bland and picked by the property management company. Nothing here was hers yet, save the stacked boxes of cardboard. Her tired arms carried the groceries to their appropriate resting places, and she cracked open the wine before settingling on the couch. Out of habit she reached for her remote, only to remember she didn’t have a TV yet. Sold for the moving expenses.


            Scarlet was so tired of sighing. She took a swig of wine, an old comfort that was basically a juicebox and rubbing alcohol that reminded her of being broke in college. She opened her phone, wishing for any stimulation. Her friends, (rather former friends)  were still posting stories, still sharing their bad takes and inane jokes. She considered getting off the couch to do the same. It was all performative anyway, right? But the energy wouldn’t come when she called out for it. Another sip, and she swapped apps. Scarlet noticed the singular blink of darkness on her phone’s screen.


            “Please, you piece of shit. I really can’t afford you to die right now.”  Her worries seemed unfounded, as the brilliant screen returned and the malfunction wasn’t replicated for the rest of the night. What was strange, however, were the kinds of new accounts she was being recommended as she scrolled her timeline.


            Now, Scarlet was no prude. She enjoyed fucking and her alone time as much as anyone. Estrogen and Progesterone even maybe had her hornier than the average. But her timeline wasn’t  full of this much smut. She had friends in the sex work game, but she didn’t exactly like, share, favorite, reblog, or any other influencer verb their content. Another website breaking their algorithm again? 


     Even if Dani did porn, she didn’t do this kind of porn. Morbid curiosity, and a slight increase in her pulse, beckoned Scarlet onward.


            Drawings, videos, and staged photos of women in things she’d only seen in racy HBO content. She didn’t even know what to call the more intricate…props…but felt herself linger on a clip of a woman riding a…pleasure machine plugged into the wall behind her. Scarlet’s face matched her namesake and she scrolled on. A woman sitting at a home office, the quintessential framing of every vlog you’ve ever watched. Finally somebody is fucking sane in this world. She clicked the video without even reading the caption, and the perky eyed labrador retriever of a woman began to speak.


            “Hi everybody! This is the Channel of O. SO!” The blonde clapped for emphasis. “You’re trying to learn about BDSM, and you have no idea where to start.” Scarlet’s eyes went wide, she took another sip, and watched the woman jumpcut and explain through terrible jokes. It was a trainwreck, steam engines exploding in her mind. It made her hot in the crotch. Scarlet finished her glass, finished the video, and poured herself another while going deeper to the woman’s personal channel. More videos, more introductory guides. Scarlet polished the second glass, and was too engrossed despite the initial impulse to cringe to even pour another.


     Her alarm rang to remind her to take the rest of her medication, pulling her out of her trance.How long had she been zoned out? It was eight thirty. Losing track of time like that wasn’t uncommon for her and this diversion was welcome. She resigned herself and went to go take another dose of bitter antidepressants and her dose of Progesterone. Once the poison was administered, she looked across her kitchen to the counter where she left her phone. It lay there, like a metal megalith, imposing despite being a little plastic rectangle. Scarlet had to gather her nerve just to walk across the room and lift the damn thing. Once it was back in her hand, she used shaking hands to unlock it. The Channel of O was still smiling up at her, and she felt her cheeks getting redder.


     Her glass of wine was forgotten as she brought her phone to her bedroom. She unboxed her duvet, and sat on the soft material as the video resumed. Scarlet was enthralled, soaking in every bit of knowledge she could.


     “There’s all kinds of different dynamics! You’re probably familiar with a ‘master/slave’ dynamic,” The blonde woman began, “but there’s also pets and owners, and even daddies, mommies,—” Scarlet’s pulse quickened,”—or more generically caregivers and littles! Sometimes that’s called ABDL if it involves diapers.”  Scarlet felt her breath catch in her throat. Her fingers flew into a flurry, and a private internet search later, her phone was filled with images that made her heartbeat accelerate.


     Videos, drawings, and many, many depictions of adult women, with all their curves and freckles and other parts that excited Scarlet, in thick diapers. They ranged across all body types, and the infantile garb varied from plain white plastic to over the top patterns to evoke baby diapers.


     Scarlet continued to scroll, eyes wide in wonder and excitement. She finally stopped, a thumbnail capturing her attention like a punch to the gut and clicked the video. Scarlet’s mouth went wide, and felt herself starting to leak into her panties.


     A gorgeous, curvaceous woman was lying on her back,  supple lips wrapped around the nipples of another woman, in nothing but a pastel colored diaper and delicate, lacy lingerie top. The tender moment evoked  breastfeeding, save for the “mother” holding a massive vibrator against the woman’s…diaper.


     The “baby” of the couple was moaning, growing louder, and Scarlet felt a tent form under her skirt. Eventually, the “baby” was screaming, thrusting her hips into the massive sex toy, in time with cries of “Mommy!”


     Mommy’s smile was intoxicating. She was very clearly getting off just as much as her baby, her face painted a combination of maternal nurturing, hedonistic pleasure, ecstatic elation, and sadistic control as she began thrusting the enormous vibrator in time with her partner’s thrusts.


     It was obviously acting on the merit of pornography, but Scarlet couldn’t tear herself away. She allowed her hand to snake up to a nipple poking through her top. Scarlet realized her own arousal, and in embarrassment, closed the tab, flinging her phone to the edge of the bed like it was a dangerous spider.


     She flung the covers off, racing to the bathroom for a cold shower. 

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I relate way too much to this character... Hell I'm interviewing for what I'm hoping will be my second chance job this Friday... ???‍♀️?

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On 11/3/2022 at 7:33 AM, YourFNF said:

I relate way too much to this character... Hell I'm interviewing for what I'm hoping will be my second chance job this Friday... ???‍♀️?

Hi there! Sorry you're dealing with interview jitters, obvi I've dealt with it too and it absolutely sucks. 

That being said i'm sending you good vibes! Best of luck today!

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On 11/3/2022 at 9:06 AM, kerry said:

This is an excellent beginning. Wonderful character building: I look forward to seeing more.

AW! Thank you so much for the kind words! I'm working on the second chapter as we speak, hopefully you enjoy!

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  • ezithemuse changed the title to Cupid's Punk! UPDATED 11/10 Chapter 2- do it exeptionally well


2- do it exceptionally well


            Scarlet slept a dreamless sleep, only to spend most of the next day at work blushing, trying to shove the last night out from her brain. She would get engrossed in a task, mind focused and honed, an Olympic athlete mentally blocking out the crowds. Her mind performed at its peak, only to trip on the last hurdle and have a vague association to trigger a flash of bizarre erotica in her mind and a coincidental flash of red on her cheeks. Reading “best” on an email would evoke a breast, a bird call became a woman’s whining moan of pleasure. A woman jogging out the window in white spandex evoked a diaper, most embarrassingly. She excused herself often to the restroom to try and control herself. 


Scarlet would breathe raggedly as she slapped herself and looked into the restroom mirrors, unsure of who was staring back at her. I haven’t even had a remotely sexual thought in months, have I been too depressed to notice? Was it the medication? She had started her antidepressants in a vaguely similar time. I can’t remember specific dates for anything on a good day! She squeezed her eyes for a moment, willing her memory to cooperate without the aid of her phone calendar for once. Nothing came to her. Not the last time I masturbated, let alone had sex, or the day I started the medication. Before that, my fucking hormones flared and had me almost feral with Barbara. A stab in her chest again. It had been a while even before they broke up. Pity attempts at reconciling through coitus that went nowhere don’t count.


            When Emilia and Scarlet left for the day, Scarlet made sure to avoid her phone for the evening, lest the same material rear its self-indulgent head at her. Scarlet let unpacking focus her mind instead, and much of the evening was spent unpacking her old workhorse laptop, more dishes, and the rest of her closet. Her precious collection of books had been butchered, sold for additional moving funds. The remains were stacked on her lone cabinet, one of a meager handful of furniture pieces. Her copy of Ariel, ragged with love and use and stained with tears, sat atop the neat pile. Scarlet tried not to focus on its missing companion; an equally well worn, notated copy of the Collected Poems of Emily Dickinson. It had not survived when she had split their… shared belongings. 


            Scarlet’s night winded down, so tired from the day and unpacking that she automatically did her skincare routine and fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillow. The next day would not be kind to the woman still trying to ignore how such smut made her feel.


            The clock over the door struck one and Scarlet was at her desk. Emilia had a single meeting left on her calendar. The secretary was on a streak of definitely-not-thinking-about-it. Certainly not hiding flushed cheeks. Absolutely not keeping her legs tightly closed under her desk.


She heard Emilia’s door open, and her designer shoes clicked down the hall. Scarlet’s eyes went wide, a ghost of an image in her mind portraying Emilia holding her down. She shook her head, feeling the thought fly out of her brain and made sure she was presentable, and turned to face her. Emilia’s eyes were up, lost in thought, as she approached Scarlet’s desk.


            “Scarlet, our next meeting is important for two reasons.” Emilia began, her eyes finally locking with her subordinate’s. She sat on the edge of the desk before continuing. Scarlet tried not to think about it extremely hard. Emilia’s long wide hips were within reach, and she fought to quiet a thrill in her chest. Her boss settled, a confident air radiating from an assured smile and intense eyes. No! STOP! It’s day three and you’re already fucking around on the job. YOU. HAVE. BILLS.


“The first reason is that he happens to be a good friend of mine. Chris, and to a lesser extent, his partner. They have been together for about six months but I’ve known him for ten years. It is not a perfectly neutral position I find myself in, but I try very hard to be impartial. And Lila knows that.” Scarlet tried to follow, getting the impression that Emilia was to some extent thinking out loud.


Why would someone need mediation with their girlfriend of six months?


Emilia continued before Scarlet could vocalize. “Secondly, you and I are going to be putting that “legal discretion” matter I mentioned to the test. I would like you to sit in, and take notes. From the outside it may seem,” she paused, searching for her word with her eyes in the air above her, “atypical. However, taking detailed notes will help the process tremendously. Do you understand so far?”


Scarlet nodded, not expecting Emilia to ask her anything. She had so many questions, and her mind raced trying to find an appropriate boundary. How personal was too personal for a professional distance? Was she expected to make personal conversation? Sit here and keep working? Her head started to spin. Her modicum of self assurance from her first day had evaporated.


“Let’s just say it’s a…unique and private agreement, made between consenting adults.” The taller woman’s nonchalance astounded Scarlet, as if she had merely stated the sky was blue.

“Just keep a straight face, and remain professional. We can expect them any moment,” Emilia’s words each landed like a loaded grenade tossed to the younger woman. So many questions remained, and Scarlet tried to hide her confusion behind her work appropriate smile. Not too friendly, calm and confident. She had been told it suited her, and she found memories of blushing at a woman using Emilia’s same poised tone at a bar back home.  Emilia checked an elegant platinum wristwatch, and began heading back to her office.


“Page me when they get here, escort them back.” She called behind as she turned, and Scarlet felt her mask drop at the sight of Emilia’s perk ass walking away. Her footsteps faded around the corner. She waited to hear the telltale office door click closed, and nerves still unsatisfied, she bit a knuckle to calm herself down. She definitely could not focus on transcription if that was what was all she could think about. She cursed under her breath at the sudden, impossible return of her libido after a dull, eventless few months. It was hard to want sex when you weren’t sure you could pay rent. She bit harder, just enough to barely leave a mark, and reminded herself she hadn’t been paid yet. She can find NORMAL porn or have NORMAL fantasies after she knew that she wouldn’t be thrown out on the street in a strange city.


As if orchestrated, the front door opened the moment Scarlet calmed enough to work again. A woman, around Scarlet’s twenty-nine, stepped in while a man held the door open in the hall. She was petite, and her bright blue eyes went wide as they locked with Scarlet’s. The woman panicked and turned to the taller man in confusion. By the time she looked back Scarlet was ready to greet her with a polite smile. It’s no different than library patrons, grocery customers or any other bullshit from being a barista.


“You must be Ms. Finch. Emilia told me about you. Lila, don’t be rude, say hi.” The man, all broad shoulders and muscle, prodded the nervous woman with a kind grin. He was head and shoulders taller than the blonde woman, but radiated the same compassion and excitement as a floofy golden retriever. Or maybe that was just the styled gold curtains that evoked a nineties heartthrob and framed a sharp jaw.


Lila gave a nervous wave and smiled. Her own blonde hair, closer to a bright Malibu Barbie shade, did nothing to hide a bashful red in her cheeks. Scarlet wanted to raise an eyebrow at his patronizing, but held back for a moment. She was distracted, seeing her own fears in Lila’s eyes, in spite of the girl's first impression. Her own anxiety, fear of saying the wrong thing in front of someone else, as if it had flown out of the secretary into Lila from moments before their arrival.


“Chris Arnold and Lila Smith, it’s a pleasure.” Her mask was returning, but she swore her own voice trembled. Should she stand? Shake hands? She settled on paging Emilia from her computer. She got back a message to lead them back and bring whatever she needed for notes. The ever-present blade of Rent Due kept her legs from shaking.


“Emilia’s ready for you, follow me please.” She stood, gathering the weathered, hand-me-down laptop she brought for the occasion. She got a better look at the two as they followed her. Scarlet watched as Lila trailed slightly, hanging on Chris’s arm like she was going to drown in the marble tile if she let go. The man was taller than Scarlet and the woman only came up to her chest. Scarlet refocused, opening the door for them, and holding it as Emilia stood with a smile, pretending she just noticed them.


“It is so lovely to see you two again, how are you? Christopher. It’s positively been ages!” Emilia walked over to the tall man, somehow still the tallest person in the room with her elegant heels. They hugged with the distance of old colleagues who only met once a year. Scarlet watched, noting how everyone besides her seemed to be much closer to a runway ready wardrobe compared to her…how old was this blouse? She realized it was a subtly patterned one she’d bought before her interview at the library. Three years, four years ago? She took her seat in a chair on the far wall, behind Emilia, and began booting the laptop. Chris took Lila’s designer jacket, and Scarlet noted it was just a tad too big for her even with the oversized cut.


“Same to you! We’re so thankful you were willing to do this, Emilia.” Chris let Emilia loose from his arms, and Scarlet watched the awkward handshake between her boss and Lila.


“And Lila Smith, I do adore your hair. Are you settling in from the move?” Something irked her about the way that they interacted, like Lila was an afterthought. To Emilia’s credit, she made the effort to grab Lila’s tiny hand in both of hers, and make an attempt at personable smalltalk. Lila barely squeaked out one-word answers to Emilia’s interview.


“Wonderful. Now that the pleasantries are done,” Emilia clapped her hands and leaned back, sitting on the edge of her desk, “shall we resume our business? I would implore the two of you to not bargain, bluff, or otherwise try and coerce one another. Understood?”  Chris and Lila sat in the two padded seats across a small table in the middle of the room. Lila produced a folder.


“We, uh…” She started speaking, and stopped. Scarlet looked up, seeing she was passing the folder to Emilia, but cut herself off when she noticed Scarlet again. Emilia took the folder, and began leafing through it before noticing Lila’s discomfort.


“Oh, dear? If you are uncomfortable speaking on such…delicate matters in front of a stranger, I assure you that Scarlet here is bound to the same discretion as I am.” Lila looked over to Chris for assurance, and he merely smiled softly and reached out his hand for hers. Her hand leapt to his, and she spoke.


            “It isn’t anything personal, I promise. I’m just…private.” She whispered. Chris nodded sagely.


“We made a copy of the original contract and made notes on the things we’d like to change moving off of the trial.”


Scarlet tried giving her a smile in return, and zipped her own lips closed with one hand for Lila’s benefit. Remain professional….no matter what you hear. Lila seemed to relax as Scarlet’s fingers went to task of bulleting Chris’s points.


“I see. So, in red here is you and…” Emilia began, scanning a document deeper in.


“The pink pen is Lila, yes.” Chris answered, chuckling a little under his breath at Emilia’s smirk and Lila’s subdued blush. “Is there a good place to start? Should you lead, or us?”


            “Start with whatever you think is most important. Lila if you feel strongly about something you are welcome to start. Remember, we’re here to reach an agreement where everyone is happy.” Emilia circled around to sit at her desk, and neatly separated three copies of a stapled document from the folder. While Emilia organized her thoughts, Lila repeated her scared rabbit glance to Chris, and took a shaking breath before speaking.


            “Miss Kane,” Emilia cupped her chin in one hand and turned to face Lila, “I thought I wanted it, but I’d really like to remove the ‘plug clause.’” Scarlet typed away, Lila-no more plug clause. Chris laughed and leaned in to whisper.


“The BUTT plug clause?” Scarlet’s eyes went wide before she got them under control. Emilia gave a quick glance from the corner of her eyes, reminding Scarlet of her place.

 “Sorry, I…uhh…know you like it. Maybe on off weeks? That, and… I’ve been wanting to try… twenty-four-seven in diapers.”






Scarlet stayed wide-eyed and silent. The room exploded with voices overlapping.


“Are you serious, babe?”

“I’m sorry…”

“Lila, don’t apologize in mediation, it’s nothing to be sorry for-”

“You want MORE?”


Scarlet tried typing rapidly, the clacking getting louder as her fingers joined the uproar in the room. Emilia stood from her chair and with a deadly look silenced the couple.


“We’re are *far* off track. I told you, you were ‘equals, honestly negotiating’ in here. I made you two promise me. Chris, you are paying for my services no matter if you listen to me or not.” The two looked away, abashed as children in the principal’s office. Scarlet was listening, but had to strain over the sound of her heartbeat in her ears. What are the fucking odds?


“Chris, if you want to explain? You owe that to your Submissive in exchange for her trust.” Emilia scolded, seemingly stepping into the role of a punitive schoolteacher. He nodded meekly, and the couple made eye contact again. Scarlet got the sense she was prying on a session of couples counseling.  “And Lila, please, do not apologize. It will not do you any good.”


The negotiations continued, Scarlet’s head still spinning as she tried to glean enough details to understand and take adequate notes at the same time. The couple were Dominant and Submissive, but those terms meant little to her as someone who was fairly plain in the bedroom and never had an affinity for a certain popular yet overwrought BDSM movie. Well, that wasn’t entirely true, she certainly let Barbara be in charge in the bedroom.  That cursed video she had seen the other night certainly was related to all this. Every single one of the dozens of line items in their “contract” was as intense as the last, and the one before, and all the way back to the …diapers.




Thinking of that is what caused Scarlet’s fingers to lock up and her cheeks to go red. Of all the fucking things that could happen today, she clenched her jaw, looking at the clock in the corner of her laptop.  They had already been at that for hours, and it certainly felt like it in Scarlet’s lower back. She prayed they remembered how long their meeting was, even if they were two thirds of the way through. Debating, explaining, pleading, pouting, the meek woman and the gentle but…controlling man went through things Scarlet only partially understood from context. Scarlet’s phone beeped and buzzed from a notification, drawing her back to the present as she silenced it with a flush of her cheeks. Thankfully, it seems that was the impetus Emilia needed.


“Goodness, we have already gone over time,” she announced, turning the same wristwatch up to look at, “Do you two not have plans after this?” Lila seemed to drop her shoulders and Chris slunk back, as if they both were exhausted from this.


“You’re right.” Chris sighed, and stood, picking up his and Lila’s coats. “I’m sorry for how I acted earlier, Lila. I just wasn’t expecting it.” He offered her his arm, and she took it, nodding to him, to forgive. Scarlet sat there, dumbfounded with her ass falling asleep. They waved goodbye, and Scarlet could only numbly wave back, and once again she was drawn back to reality.


“I can tell that was unusual for you. I understand. You’re already done for the day; you can clock out if you want. Email me the notes and we can talk in the morning.” Emilia coolly leaned back in her office chair, almost imperceptibly giving away her own exhaustion. The two had made it hard on her, and Scarlet couldn’t imagine doing this for work for the rest of her life. Well, maybe her usual clients weren’t this…deviant? Hedonistic? The word escaped her.  Scarlet nodded, sending the notes from her work email, and left as quickly as she could. Her brain would not stop replaying the moments again and again as she rode in the back of the car. It was the most bizarre cab ride back to her apartment she’d ever had. So far.


            The apartment was starting to enter that space between “motel room on the side of the road” and “hotel for a multiple week work trip.” It still certainly wasn’t home, but it was losing the foreign, transient property it had the first two nights. It was that liminal state that she now had to ponder the most surreal work day. Scarlet sat in her dining room in the rickety chair that was in the apartment when she moved, head in hands and mind racing.


What the fuck have I gotten myself in to? She went for the cheap wine again, a moscato so sweet it was another dose of the juicebox and nail polish remover. It was really growing on her. It relieved the tension in her neck and she felt like the surreal end of her work day was a mile away. Scarlet’s evening consisted of her skincare routine followed by a cheap, long expired face mask she found in the bottom of a moving box. Lying on her bed and halfway through her second glass, she got the urge to open a private browser on her phone again. Her hand shook, this time surely from nerves, as her fingers hovered over another appealing thumbnail. She had to close her eyes in order to click it.


A doe eyed woman, curly brunette hair rolling down her back, was in cute pink cuffs and bound to the ceiling. A colorful, patterned diaper was wrapped tightly around her midsection, and her legs spread by some plastic pink bar. Scarlet watched her plead and whine, begging to be let out and Scarlet felt that familiar excitement in her chest. Another woman approached, mocking the brunette for wearing the diaper, calling her all kinds of tantalizing and patronizing pet names.








Scarlet allowed her hand to touch her hardening nipples through her shirt. The girl continued pleading as Scarlet’s breath quickened. It wasn’t until the girl called the other woman Mommy, that Scarlet felt her erection coming to full attention inside her panties.


The girl pleaded further, begging not to drink an entire baby bottle of water, bouncing from foot to foot, whining behind the rubber nipple to do as much of a potty dance as the restraints allowed. Her face was red, her eyes wide, and the other woman stood there, a combination of matronly affection and a cruel Mistress. Scarlet twisted her own nipple, and suppressed any thoughts that called this depraved.


“Just let it happen, be good for Mommy. Let me do everything.” The other woman tweaked and teased and rubbed as the girl lost control and began wetting herself. She loved it. She hadn’t felt so alive in a long time, heart pounding in her chest as it was now. She flipped up her skirt and-


The video didn’t matter anymore. Something about the motion, something she’d done a thousand times over the years, didn’t remind her of her own movements. They recalled a different set of hands. Softer, smaller than hers. Always short nails, she didn’t want to break them playing basketball. Sometimes she’d let Scarlet paint them, usually a navy blue or a nude.


Those were the hands that she saw in her mind. The ones she loved, adored, held with conviction from deep in her heart. Then she heard it, from inside her memory, the deepest part of her brain that revolted against her.


Just let me do everything, Lettie~


Tears welled, but refused to fall. Scarlet harshly threw her phone across the room, bouncing off the wall and onto the carpet. She wiped away the tears and buried her face in the pillow, muffling a pained wail. 

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Heads up everybody! Chapter 3 is already done and ready to roll out! I’m going to give myself another day to try and get ahead on 4, but expect it soon™️

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3- And I am a smiling woman.


            Scarlet’s sleep on Thursday night into Friday morning was, unfortunately, the least restful she’d experienced in a long time. It echoed nightmares she’d had for a long time. She was back on a rooftop in autumn, smelling the sweet scent of homemade desserts and their neighbor’s rooftop flower garden. Someone slightly shorter than her had their arms around her midsection. Soft hands with navy blue nails. A tattoo in a looping script peaked from under flannel sleeves, “Rowing in Eden with You.” Scarlet always hated how she got the quote wrong.  A soft, lower voice whispered in her ears.


            Happy Birthday!

Scarlet felt herself falling. Vertigo.

            The last day of scorpio season. Makes sense.

The rooftops were gone. Everything was black, save a blinding light above her.

            You always have to be dramatic about deadlines.

She bounced when she landed. A twin sized mattress caught her. It did not comfort her.

            I’m always going to be here for you.

Her legs dangled over the edge, too tall for the bed.

            I’ll always love you, Lettie. No matter what.

Her limbs wouldn’t move. Her eyes burned, but she was unsure if it was from the light or tears.


She was stuck against the bed, and the light was slowly being eclipsed.

            I’m sorry. I can’t be the person you need.

 Her skin felt like it would rip off, it clung to the soft material like tar.


She couldn’t get free on her own.

I can’t help you.


            Scarlet woke, not with a start and a scream, panting in sweat like a movie. Her eyes simply opened in one go, and she stared at the ceiling and focused on not weeping. Her alarm would go off in a few hours, but she sat up and got ready for a shower anyway. No one would hold her if she wanted to go back to sleep. There was no one to make coffee for. No one to kiss as she brushed her teeth. She was in a world alone.


            By the time she got to work, Scarlet’s composure had returned enough that she could face her own reflection in the elevator. She got off on her floor, and entered as Emilia was opening her door at the end of the office. They gave each other polite smiles and waves, and got about opening shop for the day. Scarlet set about returning emails and organizing Emilia’s schedule, trying to force her upsetting dream deeper down under the water, away from the surface of her mind. She was starting to get in a groove only to have Emilia appear at her side around an hour later. She sat on the edge of Scarlet’s desk again, and Scarlet felt the excitement of seeing her boss’s shapely hips be washed away by a wave of numbness. She was about to speak to Scarlet, when her phone rang.


            Emilia stepped away, and walked back down the hall, as a voice screamed on the other end. It finally stopped, and Scarlet could hear the irritation on Emilia’s face.


          “Well, Veronica, that tends to happen when one calls before office hours, is it not? You get an answering machine? Or, am I required to staff my office twenty-four seven just in case you call outside socially acceptable hours?”


          Scarlet couldn’t help but laugh to herself, listening in as Emilia responded to increasingly ridiculous suggestions. Scarlet had only ever worked jobs where she wasn’t allowed to tell customers they were wrong, and she envied that power. She knew she wasn’t perfect. God she knew it. But if she had gotten a bonus for every client mad at her for something out of her control, having to grovel in contrition as close to the company letter as required—she’d never have to work again.


         Emilia’s call lasted into her first meeting, and the earlier conversational attempt was forgotten. About an hour later, Scarlet brought back an elderly, suited gentleman called Mr. Winters to Emilia’s office. Emilia had her take notes again as he went over his prenuptial. Or his fourth prenuptial, rather.


          Scarlet’s laptop brought up the notes from yesterday’s bizarre meeting, and she tried to hide a blush during her frantic efforts to open a new document. She was able to keep her composure for the remainder of the meeting, and was actually quite impressed with Emilia. It was a tedious two hours of legal jargon and nuance that largely went over her head, something about how Statute Nine versus Statute Eight, subsection Four.  How multiple Child Support cases weakened certain negotiation standing points, or his job compared to his fiance’s would be a factor in upcoming meetings.


           Scarlet felt like once upon a time she could have handled learning something so complex as law, but now her brain barely functioned unless she was forcing herself to work in the presence of someone who would hold her accountable. Her brain was too chock full of poets and show trivia and bad memories. She assumed Emilia was intelligent just by virtue of being an accomplished lawyer, but she was truly dazzled.


          His time came to an end, and he thanked Emilia with a firm handshake and ignored Scarlet. No, he didn’t ignore her in fact, he looked her in the eye and decided she wasn’t worth the effort to say goodbye to. She felt a sting of envy, even if she knew she didn’t have a law degree. It’s stupid to get upset about, she reasoned away her feelings, I’m “just” the secretary and he’s some old fuck. Probably was alive when you could pinch asses at work. When Emilia and Mr. Winters weren’t looking, she stuck her tongue out at him.


          “Thankfully the honorable Mr. Winters didn’t see that.” Emilia announced as soon as the front office door was closed. Scarlet felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up, Emilia still standing in her doorway where she watched him leave from.


          “See what?” Had she screwed up in her first week already?


          “It was rude of him to treat you like that, and I would have said something if I thought he would be receptive to it. But some men think they can get elected to a high enough seat of power to not have to respect “normal people” like yourself.” Scarlet’s blood ran cold.


          “Elected?” She swallowed, now worrying she was in trouble.


          “Pay it no mind, Ms. Finch. However, from now on please refrain from any mocking the clients until after they are gone. That way I can mock him with you.” She finally turned from her spot, facing Scarlet. Now that she wasn’t in fear for her job, she made note of the compassion hidden behind her professional demeanor. The twitch of her lips from a confident smile to an almost imperceptible frown, or how her eyes seemed to soften. She was sympathetic to Scarlet’s frustrations.


          “Understood,” Scarlet began, “I’m sorry, Emilia. It won’t happen again.” She was elated to not be chewed out like many of her former employers would have. Touched, even, that she was being given empathy instead. She checked the clock on her computer, it was just enough time before Emilia liked to take her lunch.


          “It’s about thirty minutes until you like to have your lunch, Ma’am. Is there anything else, or would you like me to go get that for you?” Scarlet was eager to prove she was still of service, given how she was treated like a valued employee rather than being unworthy of the effort to teach.


          “That would be lovely, dear. The usual, please, and get yourself more than just a coffee this time. Send me those notes when you have come back and had your break. ” Emilia smiled and held the door as Scarlet packed her laptop and made her way out of the office.


          The empty seats inside caught Scarlet’s eyes, and she recalled how less than twenty four hours ago, they hosted the strange couple. Her walk to the corner cafe was tinted with memories of the bizarre meeting, knowing that a second one was inevitable. She would have to see them again on Monday morning—what a hell of a way to start a week.


          She grabbed Emilia’s salad, croissant and tea, ordered herself a small muffin and coffee, and tried not to think about Lila in diapers similar to the ones from the video she had seen last night. I bet they’re soft…and cute. She did her best to deliver her boss’s lunch with a straight face and return to her desk. Her break was focused on her coffee, wishing she had something sweeter so her hands wouldn’t shake, but knowing she needed the caffeine. She focused on that instead of the recurring flashes of the video, and of Chris and Lila. Who knows what depravity those two were up to as she sat there? It was bizarre! So why did it make her heart beat faster?


          She got lost in her work.  A few hours later when Emilia appeared next to her, and sat on the edge of Scarlet’s desk as she had before. The secretary jumped, then tried to hide her blush, quickly coming up with an excuse.


          “Sorry! You surprised me and I guess I’m embarrassed about that.” She laughed nervously. Emilia waved away her concerns.


            “That was quite a lot to handle, yesterday, no?” Emilia gave a half eyeroll, the ridiculousness of the subject apparent to all, and sipped from her drink. “Did any of that upset you? I wanted to warn you but was not sure how to without being crass. I would prefer to always be professional with you.” Her hands drifted to rest on her lap, less than a foot from Scarlet. Now she had to turn her head up to see into the woman’s eyes.


            Scarlet felt her excitement be overtaken by feeling exposed, in the spotlight. How do you tell your boss you were extremely flustered at that kind of talk? It only now occurred to her that she definitely had a crush. On a woman, her boss, who just said she wants to stay professional. Is she cursed? Is her stupid crush completely pointless? Emilia’s eyes studied her reaction, and Scarlet swore she knew about that stupid video in the back of her mind.


            “It’s…a unique arrangement between adults, right?” She tried to slip offstage, but Emilia would not allow it.


            “Have you heard that kind of talk before? No need for specifics, we are all ladies, here.” Scarlet could read the implication. She was really asking Are you a prude or a pervert?


            “A friend is on the…wilder side of romance.” Scarlet lied as well as she breathed.


            Emilia looked her up and down like she was lunch. Scarlet decided to look busy, turning her chair back to face her computer. It took her a moment to recall what she had even been doing beforehand, the thought forced out by memories about butt plugs and leashes and spankings. And diapers.


          “You seemed pretty flustered.” Emilia offered. Scarlet tried to ignore the implication.  


          “Just wasn’t expecting it. I should’ve gotten it when you mentioned ‘consenting adults.’”


          “Then would you be alright with attending further meetings?” Scarlet wasn’t exactly in a position to say no. “They are at least one more meeting away from being finished, of course. But there’s more to the situation.”


          This caught Scarlet’s attention. What more could those two possibly do to each other that wasn’t illegal in some states? Emilia sighed.


          “Never easy to explain this. I run a…side business here as well. I matchmake for people like Chris and Lila, pairing them together. I rather enjoy playing Kinky Cupid. Lila moved here a few months ago, came to me, and Chris was already in my little black book.” Scarlet tried not to let her eyes go big. Instead her mouth ran before she could think.


          “So their…’contract’ was because you paired them, knowing what they’re into?” She tried not to let her voice quiver, and Emilia seemed to notice, turning her head as she watched. Her boss still had the look of a predator, and Scarlet felt like prey spotted out of cover. It gave her a nervous thrill.


          “Their trial period contract, yes. Then, if they want to remain together like Chris and Lila, they negotiate a new one to both their satisfaction.”


          “So this isn’t the first time you’ve done this? You seem to have a lot of knowledge about it.” Scarlet swore in her mind, certain she’d gone past the point of casual curiosity or professional courtesy.


           Emilia smiled. “That is correct!” She spoke with a slightly patronizing tone that made Scarlet blush despite herself. “I learned my fair share before starting my little side business. I have experience making grown women blush, to put it politely.”


          Scarlet felt that same thrill build, and she decided she was angry about it. Emilia, pretty fucking confident. I can see where this is going. She did her best to make her face neutral, turning away to face her work computer. “Everybody I've met that brags like that tends to be…overcompensating.” This isn’t some 50 Shades knock off. I’m not going to fuck my boss on my first week just because she can have a stern tone of voice. Scarlet’s spiteful resolve finally came out of hiding for the first time since her engagement ended. Her heart beat faster now, keeping the same thrill but now with pride in herself.


          Emilia’s designer shoe twitched, the only betrayal at agitation.  “Tell me, Ms. Finch,” Emilia began, “Why would you possibly think I would be promising something I cannot deliver?” Her tone was steady, even curious, but confident she had already won. She viewed Scarlet as a mouse to play with. Scarlet’s blush returned. If Scarlet answered directly, she’d have to say something explicit to her so-called “professional” boss.


          Her nostrils flared as she strengthened her will to resist, an ember in her heart despite a secondary heat in her crotch. “So much for remaining professional. I didn’t move cross-country only for…,” trying to fuck my boss, “That.” She gave a sarcastic smile, grabbing a stack of folders she needed to file in Emilia’s office by the end of the day.


           God she wanted to fuck Emilia. She’d rather not lose her job by breaking things off if it went poorly, however.


           “‘Only?’” Emilia called after her. Scarlet could hear her slide off the desk, and calmly follow as the secretary entered the office and stored the errant paperwork. “So you were open to the possibility, so long as you had a place to stay?” Emilia’s voice dripped with mirth. She sounded confident, like she had pulled a prank. Scarlet felt her ears turn red, but Emilia continued. “Did you already have a crush on me from our video interview?”


           Scarlet was exasperated, but was unsure if it was at Emilia’s boldness or that her face somehow got even redder. “Emilia! Just because you do all this stuff doesn’t—” She went to turn, facing her boss as she stood in the doorway, but Emilia was closer.


            Much closer.


            She had put one hand on the wall, arm outstretched, inches from Scarlet’s head. She was bent at the waist, face even closer to Scarlet’s. Her intense eyes and strong hands pinned her in place. Right between Emilia’s hand, her body, and the filing cabinet. Scarlet’s heart pounded, it was the tempo of a night club, the rest of her body the club interior full of sweat and ecstasy. Emilia’s bright red lipstick was twisted in a mischievous, patronizing smirk, and they began moving. It took Scarlet a moment to focus and listen to her words, their tone oozed condescension. She had been outplayed.


            “By that blush on your face, I think you believe me now.”


            Emilia’s cool words made her former resolve melt, replaced now with panic. Scarlet sank against the wall, looking away, certain for the first time since being a closeted teenager that she would die of embarrassment. She felt Emilia’s free hand touch her chin and gently pressed against it to lift, forcing their eyes to meet again.


           She withered, losing the ability, or perhaps desire, to be responsible for her own body. She squirmed under Emilia’s gaze, every nerve and skin cell alive with fire and desperate for touch. What finally made her heart seize was watching her motormouth go on autopilot, helpless to stop her own voice betraying her.


            “W-will you take me out tonight?” Emilia must have a record grip strength, because Scarlet swore her legs gave out at the sound of her own voice. Emilia’s hand on her chin kept her in place, pinned in excitement. Her amber eyes saw deep into Scarlet’s soul.


            “I already have a car coming to pick you up at nine.” Emilia purred, and Scarlet’s spine shivered in harmony.


             Every burning, blushing spot on her face screamed. Of course Scarlet wanted to say yes. Of course she adored the feeling of being pursued like this. It made her feel like a lady, like she was valuable, like she was cherished, like she was vuln—


             But the last time…


            Emilia’s eyes searched hers, and they both saw the change in each other’s demeanor.


             Her boss softened the approach. “Ms. Finch, I am certain this is something you desire.” She tenderly teased, voice barely above a whisper but filling Scarlet’s ears with its confidence. Emilia’s free hand rose, and lifted Scarlet’s chin, forcing her to look the taller woman in the eyes. “However, I am no more perfect than anyone else. You need to say it explicitly. I'm not letting you get away with just asking me to the school dance like a shy teenager."


             Scarlet’s eyes went wide. She knew what was coming in her heart of hearts, and wouldn’t be able to lie about it. Every muscle in her body refused to respond, her body was in revolt, wishing the gorgeous woman would ravage her. But her heart disagreed. Emilia searched her eyes again, and she raised an eyebrow.


              She took that same patronizing tone, like a teacher who knew better than a small child. “You can do it, right? Just say something like ‘Emilia, I do not want you to take me out tonight, treat me like royalty, and give me the best sex of my life.’” Emilia smiled devilishly, certainly getting a sadistic joy from how much more ragged Scarlet’s breaths were becoming. Scarlet’s adrenaline fueled panic caught the barest hint of Emilia’s cheeks going flush as well. Her boss did not let up the pressure.


              “Or, you can say what I know you want to. ‘Emilia, I want you to control me, like all those other women you have put on their knees, and have written out contracts with people in this very office.’ The choice is yours, you just have to say you want to be under my control, and be all mine.”


             Scarlet’s mind ran at a million miles a second, too flustered and aroused to operate her mouth. OF COURSE she wanted to say yes. But every memory of the past year of her life, every part of her heart that told her to keep people at a distance until she was sure she could trust them…


            Like a flash, she had her answer. “All those women had trial periods, right?” Her hands were shaking, but she was more confident in her response than anything in her life.


            “That is correct.” Emilia raised another eyebrow, smiling with curiosity at the question.


             “Well that’s to protect both people, right? So I’m going to hold you to your little speech.” That’s it. That’s the fire coming back. She felt the same punk-bitch attitude sparking back to life. I missed feeling like me.


             Scarlet continued, “We have a trial period agreement. This is as much an audition for you as it is for me. I’ll let you take control, and the moment you don’t live up to your talk, I’m gone, with severance pay. Deal?” She stuck out her hand to shake on it, instantly feeling dumb. Her heart still pounded, and she was breathing hard and wishing for a cooler head. Did she go too far to get what she wanted?


            Emilia studied her prey again, looking up and down Scarlet’s whole length. She laughed under her breath, bemused at Scarlet’s defiance.


            “I’m not used to them putting up a fight. I get the feeling you were a punk in school.” It was more a statement of admiration, of piqued interest, rather than accusation. To be fair to her, she had Scarlet pegged.  “It’s a deal Ms. Finch.” Emilia shook her hand, and smiled coolly.


            “Now, the day is practically over anyway. Unless you want to go out in your work clothes, I suggest you go home and get ready. I expect you will want to look your best, Scarlet.”


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  • ezithemuse changed the title to Cupid's Punk! UPDATED 11/17 Chapter 3- And I am a smiling woman.

Hi! I hope everyone had a great holiday. Chapter 4 was delayed as I forgot to post before I left for the family events and couldnt exactly justify being on my phone a ton, let alone kink sites and all the copy-paste nonsesne. Anyway! Here it is, commence date night!


4- ruddy. Ready./ Rusty.



            Scarlet’s leg bounced the entire ride home, and her cab earned a generous tip for shaving an extra four minutes off the commute. She was by no means unpresentable, but she wanted to impress the woman in every sense. She talked such a big game, now it was time to deliver.


            With the apartment door unlocked, she set her things down, then froze. She needed her meds, a shower, do her hair, find the right outfit, and to do a full face of makeup, with less than four hours. Considering how long her curls alone took to dry it would be cutting it close even if she wasn’t overwhelmed. Indecision paralyzed her for a moment in her entryway, before she sprinted to her room to take her medications and pick something to wear.


            Scarlet swallowed them dry, playing out the “Hey, Emilia, one sec. Need to take my not so crazy pills,” in her mind.  Very sexy. Between that and her knowing i’m trans…She froze, the dress she was considering in the mirror still held against her body. Her impulse was to embrace the intrusive numbing feeling, to let her muscles turn to liquid. It was true to how dates had gone in the past, after all. She could just drop the dress and lie on her bed and never get out. It would all be wasted. Pointless, she would think she wasn’t elegant or smart enough. Even if she did, she wouldn’t want her in the same way…someone who she could be honest with about how hard this past year was. A sick prank.


            She flared her nostrils and tried to breathe. You’re fine…She wouldn’t have been so eager if she didn’t mean it, right? She felt her stomach rumble, and paused her dressing to find and shove a protein bar down her mouth so she wouldn’t make any rude noises. She eventually decided on a cute a-line dress, black like most of her wardrobe. It was a flattering cut on Scarlet that could hopefully split the difference between formal and understated. Given the amount of shredded tees, too-short dresses and skirts in her wardrobe, it probably wouldn’t cover enough for anywhere in Emilia’s income range. She matched it with patterned stockings that would accent her butt and her nicest boots.


Putting the cherry on top (or rather bottom), she dug deep in the back of her dresser for a cute pair of satin, babydoll pink underwear set. That was generous, it was definitely lingerie, and did as much to make her cleavage more appealing. She wasn’t insecure about her chest, thankfully having larger than average breasts for a trans woman. Instead one of her primary concerns was the way her stockings settled would accentuate her hips under the dress.


Her hips. That’s what she stared at when she felt the heavy self loathing wash over her like cold saltwater. Too small to be feminine. Same bullshit. Self fulfilling prophecy. If I focus on them that much I’ll just come across as insecure. And if this date is doomed…I’ll choose to have fun on the way.


            Her face was scrubbed of makeup, her shower hot and soothing to stiff muscles from sitting at a desk all day. She luckily didn’t need too much to feel clean and smell good, so she just made sure her hair was cared for, to bring it back to life. Out of the shower, brushed, product in, microfiber towel wrapped around it.


            Despite biting her lip as she dressed, or her leg bouncing as she let down and styled her hair, she was making remarkable time. As she did her eyeshadow, she managed to work efficiently enough, despite having to start over. A full, styled face; winged liner and detailed eyeshadow, contour and highlighter.


She felt more confident as she looked in her bedroom mirror. Perhaps even, for the first time in a very long time, sexy. She gave a small smile that warmed her chest, happy, as she finished the look with her favorite lipstick.


With thirty minutes to spare, she noted as she checked her phone. It was here that she noticed that her nail polish was chipping from the thorough cleaning and styling of her hair. Just a quick touch up would only take her half her remaining time.


She used the meditative practice of painting her nails to mentally prepare. Emilia is bringing a car? I’m not even used to dating people who own cars, let alone rent them on a whim. How much was Emilia making? Scarlet resolved not to let herself be intimidated by money, despite the status of her own bank account. Ten minutes later she was blowing on the quick dry polish, simply making sure the black matched and was even with her previous coat.  


Her phone buzzed, and a gentle test proved they were dry enough. Her face went a little red in excitement as ‘Emilia Kane (boss)’ flashed on the screen. Still trying to be gentle on her nails, she opened the phone: “there in 15. No rush”


She couldn’t help but laugh to herself a bit. Even Miss Intimidating can be late. She double checked her reflection and continued to blow on her nails until getting a follow up text: “Pulling in. Hop on down, bunny.”


While the text did strengthen her blush, Scarlet decided to be a tiny bit clever. If she thinks I’m going to come running at her beck and call, she’s dumber than she looks. She watched her phone, telling herself she’d take three minutes then depart as she fidgeted on her couch. It only took about ninety seconds before a follow up message arrived: “I can see your read receipts, little one.”


Scarlet giggled to herself, her heart strangely bouncing in her chest at the pet name. She locked the door behind her, finally replying as she descended. “already on my way down. Someone’s so eager ?'' That oughta rile her up.  Coming down from the third floor of her building did take a while, after all.


Scarlet froze at the sight of the luxury limousine in front of her building. Emilia was leaning against the back door, where actors and singers emerged from on tv. It took Scarlet—still distracted at the prospect of being picked up by a limo—a moment to notice her suitor’s outfit. Emilia typically wore either fitted suits to the office or professional, but sharp looking skirts. Scarlet was not prepared for how effortless and luxurious her hair looked. How did one match platinum jewelry that well? And the beautiful corset, that made Emilia’s figure only that much more distinct. Scarlet forced herself not to gawk, and walk to the door as Emilia opened it.


“Is this how you treat all of your dates, or just your boss?” Emilia raised an eyebrow with the dry sarcasm in her tone. She was annoyed, but not too annoyed. 


“Only the ones that act like they’ve got the whole world under their thumb.” Scarlet returned the playful barbs, and blew the taller woman a kiss from inside the limo. Emilia smiled, and closed the door behind her. Good. Pushing buttons is too fun. People who can’t take the heat are boring.


Emilia smiled again at Scarlet, making her a little excited in her chest. Her boss touched a call button, and the limo pulled out into the street proper.


“Didn’t tell me where we were going, did you?” Scarlet mused, realizing now she hadn’t been to the part of town she was riding towards.


Emilia sat back, crossing her legs and relaxing her shoulders. She was on the other side of the same seat as Scarlet, barely four feet from her. “It is a favorite restaurant I first found a few years ago.” She began, “Now, it is my go-to for special occasions. They save me a table right on the river, the best view you could imagine of the sun setting.” Scarlet could see Emilia’s eyes wander, remembering this legendary view as if it were the peak of Romance. “And they do have my favorite Chardonnay.”


Chardonnay? A view of the river? Might be a little blue for my blood. Scarlet thought, trying not to give away her knee jerk distaste for such a place. Emilia clearly noticed the change, her head tilting in confusion.


“Something wrong?” Emilia’s simple question betrayed a simple answer. Scarlet knew Emilia had the income for a place like that, and was already dressed for it. How do you tell someone you probably can’t even afford to split the bill? Was Emilia trying to impress me?


“I’m sorry. It sounds lovely, but it seems kind of stuffy? Like, you don’t have to do all that. I’d feel bad having someone else pay that much, especially with the car? I think I’d just be uncomfortable. I’m a lot more accustomed to dives than six-star dining.”


Emilia laughed to herself, but Scarlet was unsure at why. “You may be thinking of Michelin Stars. They only go up to three, dear.” Scarlet felt her ears turn red. “If it is a dress code or cost you worry about, I sincerely mean that it is no trouble.” Scarlet’s nerves flared, and her masked smile started to come back.  “I want to treat you, and between being friends with the owners and the privacy of my table—”


“Emilia!” She said, a little louder and panicked than she’d meant to. She calmed down with a breath before continuing. “Sorry, I just…I don’t need you to impress me? I’m already impressed, okay? I’m—” She blushed again, trying to be sincere and not let the mask overtake being honest. “I didn’t just say yes out of nowhere? I am impressed each day at work.” Scarlet felt exposed, vulnerable in the way she detested. Every instinct told her that she was giving too much too fast, and yet her rational brain knew she had scared off more than one date with too much “flirting” like her previous barbs.


“I see.” Emilia mused under her breath and thought, before emphasizing each careful word choice, “I must admit you’re the first date to want to go somewhere less formal with me. What would you like to do?”  


“Your favorite place.” Scarlet emphasized each word in return as a true smile crept across her face. “Not the rich lawyer. Not the expert dominant. Not the matchmaker Cupid’s. Emilia’s favorite place in the whole wide world.”


Her date’s mouth spread in a smile, bright red lipstick lips curling upward with intrigue. Scarlet also thought she detected a hint of admiration.


“I think I can do that.” She touched the call button once more. “Driver, could you turn around please? We had a change of plans. Take us to Sharkie’s.”


* * *

Silent motor, smooth ride, and the most comfortable seats Scarlet had ever experienced. Scarlet could not recognize the part of the city they drove through, away from both her apartment and the office. Emilia refused to give away anything about the new venue, save for a sly grin, a mischievous—hopefully benevolent—secret. Every attempt to ask was met with a verbal riposte. 


“What kind of dive could ‘Sharkie’s’ possibly be?”

“Exactly my kind of place.”

“Should we look at a menu ahead of time?”

“I know it by heart. It is my favorite, after all.”

“Not even going to tell me what part of town it’s in?”

“Worrying your pretty little head about something like that?”


Scarlet had an impulse to pout, to get annoyed with her date as the woman sat there with an effortless sense of cool. Instead flipped her hair and leaned back to simply enjoy the ride, the texture of the seats and gentle vibration soothing. In mere moments, Emilia looked out the window with another small smile, and spoke, “Here we are.” The limo pulled to a stop, and Emilia got out first, holding the door open for Scarlet. She slid out into the cool evening air to a bustling downtown street full of people giving double takes at the car and the couple that emerged from it.


Sharkie’s was, in fact, not a dive as Scarlet had hoped. She was far more comfortable at such places than anywhere that had a coat check. It was still upscale from its exterior, abstract shapes and asymmetrical windows that some architects were overpaid to design. The neon signs were minimalist, to the point where Scarlet could not interpret what the glowing design was actually meant to represent.


“What kind of bizarre club did you take me to?” Scarlet managed to decipher that one shape was the protruding dorsal fin of a shark, attached to some kind of orb.


“It was a bad habit I picked up from my university study group.” Emilia began to explain, offering her arm to Scarlet. The shorter woman took her arm, blushing to herself as she listened. Scarlet adored feeling like a capital-L Lady with her dates in the past, and with such a gorgeous woman only heightened the feeling. Emilia continued as she opened the door for them.


“In the evenings in Boston, there isn’t much to do as a broke, exhausted student beyond going to local bars. So after studying, my friends and I would go to a special one that Michael introduced us to. They had a billiards table, but he corrected us. ‘Um, actually, it’s Snooker.’”


Scarlet gave the woman a look of confusion. They entered a formal waiting room, with expensive-looking modern and industrial furniture for customers to recline. Here the hostess, a short blonde woman in a vest and tie, immediately gave a look of recognition at the sight of Emilia.


“Miss Kane! Lovely to see you again. Should I prepare your usual spot?” The woman gave an earnest smile that Scarlet recognized. When Scarlet was a waitress, two lifetimes ago, she had one patron who was always polite, patient, and tipped well. The woman gave that exact smile to Emilia now. 


“Perhaps a more private one tonight, Melody. My date and I will be at the bar when one is ready.” Melody nodded, and held the second door open for the two taller women. Still on her arm, Scarlet smiled the smile of the shared plight of the service industry.


“Have a great evening, ladies!” Melody waved, nodding to Scarlet’s look. She reached down to a headset to send Emilia’s request in, and Scarlet turned to look where they were walking. Scarlet’s eyes took a moment to adjust, the dim lighting of the interior closer to a nightclub, and the bar on their immediate left gave the same impression. Less than a quarter of the floorplan was occupied by it, however, as the rest of the club was occupied by evenly spaced pool tables.


“This is a poolhall? Or…?” Scarlet finally connected the dots on the sign outside. Oh, a ‘pool shark,’ like a pool ball with a shark. Cute. She focused on the tables, and noticed some differences. “They’re not pool balls i’ve ever seen.”


“Not quite. Snooker is practically billiards, but with a bit more strategy. We played every week and I have adored the game ever since.” Emilia led Scarlet over to the bar, and the younger woman scanned the overhead menu. She was slightly intimidated, knowing the garbage ‘Fruitscato’ she had favored this past week would not be on the wine list.


“Get whatever you like, dear. My treat.” Emilia sounded sure of herself. Scarlet took the challenge.


“Oh? That’s so kind of you to buy such expensive bottles for the whole club.” She made sure to say it loudly, getting the attention of other patrons at the bar.


"You're a cute date, but not that cute. Emilia smirked at her, an eyebrow rising. Scarlet saw the clear warning in the omen as the bartender approached. "An Old Fashioned for me, and you dear?"


Scarlet panicked for a moment, and defaulted to her preferences, "A Painkiller, please, salted if you can." Sweet, tangy, a tad fruity... immature? The man nodded with a polite to the two women, and began mixing. 


"A Painkiller?" Emilia gave her an inquisitive look.


"My dad introduced me actually. He got it once on family vacation because of the Judas priest song? Ever since it's my usual when I go out. If I'm at home it is just some cheap wine...or, like, whatever sweet 'themed drinks' are around. I just wanted to not be so picky for once." She fidgeted with her nails, checking to make sure there weren't any chips to cover her nerves.  


"I had never heard of such a thing before tonight," Emilia's curiosity shined in her words.


"It's like a Pina Colada without the Jimmy Buffet connotations. More distinct flavors." 


"I could see you in a Hawaiian Shirt wasting away in Margaritaville."  


"Noooooo thank you. I was hoping you'd ask about the other drinks."


Themed drinks? The drinks were produced, "Open a tab, please." She passed Scarlet her drink, and raised the neat Old Fashioned for a toast. "To fun and games." 


“To fun and games.” She returned. She blushed as her larger glass, salt on the rim and vibrant colors clinked against the whiskey, and sipped.


“Oh my god that’s so good. Um..yeah, themed. A couple Halloweens ago my friend made ‘Vampire Kisses’ or somesuch? It was just black cherry vodka and grenadine and coke and I loved it…but I don’t want to be a fuss at like regular bars? I feel the kind of places I usually go to don’t exactly carry black cherry vodka just in case some girl wants a spooky spiked cherry coke.”  A sudden sense of self-consciousness broke her train of thought. Rambling. Insert foot in mouth before you bore her. Scarlet decided to sip again to silence herself.


Emilia gave a genuine giggle, raising a hand to daintily cover mouth. “I can honestly say I’ve never done a spit take of a whiskey before, but you almost had me.” Scarlet felt her smile grow and her chest grow full, moved that she hadn’t actually embarrassed herself.


They drank more, idle chit chat. Emilia went to Boston University to study law. Scarlet graduated from Cal State Long Beach studying literature and poetry. Scarlet was from Orange County originally, and Emilia from New York state. Scarlet was just explaining how amazing Long Beach was compared to her hometown when a young man in a vest and tie matching Melody’s approached.


“Miss Kane,” he started, a small but formal bow accompanying his words, “we have arranged your private table for the evening and retrieved your cue. Shall I take you to your suite?”


Scarlet didn’t wait for Emilia’s reply, hooking her arm around her date’s and holding her drink in the other hand, a satisfied smile spreading across her face. The smile was aided by the pleasant warmth both in her chest at the fun she was having, and her head from the alcohol.


“Thank you, I believe we are ready.” Emilia gave a smirk down to Scarlet, and the pair followed their guide between tables through the open floor. He led them to a door in the far corner, which opened with a card swipe, and inside a private table awaited. It brought to mind those karaoke venues Scarlet had seen before with private lounges for individual parties, hosting plush couches against the walls. A long, open case was open on one such set of couches, a disassembled stick inside.


Emilia tipped the young man and he closed the door behind him. “By that look on your face, you’ve never played?”


“Snicker? No.”


Snooker, dear. Far deeper than a simple game of pool.” Emilia began assembling the stick.


“Can’t be that hard.” Scarlet studied the table, each ball and cue stick polished to a mirror sheen. She found a coaster to place her drink on, before lifting a dark red ball up to her eye. “Are you going to teach me?”


“I imagine it will be more fun that way.” Emilia smiled, setting down her own drink and gathering up one of each colored ball.


God her eyes are so pretty. And she has a little beauty mark on her cheekbone.


Emilia’s eyes had this intensity when her brain was focused, when she was formulating her next few talking points. “So as opposed to solids and stripes, you merely have multiple reds and one each of other colors.” Scarlet tried to focus, to follow along as the rules were explained.


“You shoot with the cue ball like normal, but you must pocket them in alternating order. A red ball, then any other color ball, then another red. You keep going until you do not pocket a ball.” Emilia looked up to Scarlet, those same intense eyes locked with hers. She felt her cheeks go red.


“The red balls stay pocketed, and the colored balls come back each turn until there are only colored balls. They’re worth different amounts and that’s on the wall.” She thumbed her hand at a poster on the wall. Sure enough, they were worth cascading points. Red balls were worth four, and each color was worth one more than the last.


“I think I get it so far. You’re not skipping anything important are you? I get competitive, despite myself.” Scarlet smirked, unsure where this confidence came from. After all, It is called ‘liquid courage,’ she reasoned to herself.


“There’s complicated rules about fouling. But we can play without those.”

            “Is fouling like Scratching? And what, you think I need the handicap?”

            “Okay, then on the black ball, final shot, if you foul you lose.”


            Scarlet couldn’t help but giggle. “I didn’t realize we were playing high stakes.” She spun a lone blue ball on the green foam to let out nervous energy. Emilia was placing the balls in what Scarlet assumed was their rack position, and rolled the blue ball to her gently.

“I doubt you want your first game to be high stakes. Last thing to remember is that once all the red balls are gone, the other balls must be sunk in point order. Any questions?”


            “Only if you’re afraid of losing your money? I think I can handle it!” Scarlet tried leaning coolly against the table, grabbing a stick from a nearby rack and taking a sip of her drink again. “Are you gonna break or shall I?”


“Oh I will, but you can take the first shot after that.” Emilia’s eyes grew serious, focusing like a lens to a laser.  She grabbed her own cue, and Scarlet watched from the other side of the table as Emilia leaned over in her corset to take careful aim. The young woman wished she had taken a seat behind her gorgeous date now that she was realizing what she was missing. She wasn’t even at a proper angle to view Emilia’s…intricate racking…without being obvious. With a *CA-CRACK*, the cue shot forward, splitting the formation. Scarlet watched them fly, dancing and bouncing around before settling. Emilia had set up an incredibly simple set of shots for her.


“Even if you are sharking me, I pick up new games pretty fast.” Scarlet saw a few straightforward shots, and tried to do the mental math on what would earn her the most points while setting up a follow up shot. She finally spied a red and the same blue ball she had fidgeted with in perfect position. Scarlet took a sip for courage, and tried to lean in seductively as she took her aim. *ca-crack,* a red ball sank. *Ca-crack,* the blue sank as well.


Scarlet looked up to see Emilia giving her a smile and a curious eyebrow. “How do you keep managing to surprise me, Scarlet?”


Scarlet almost lost her balance, and whiffed her next shot. “I played a lot of pool when I was in college too…but we were definitely underage. So it’s been a minute.” She gave a small smile to excuse her miss.


Emilia leaned over as well, replacing the blue ball, and then began lining up to a different red. She scored a red and a pink ball, and another red. “I promise I’ll give you a fair chance.” A green ball bounced sneakily off a far wall and sank into the opposite pocket, and Emilia gestured to Scarlet.


“You can just pass the turn?” Scarlet asked, still watching Emilia deliberately replace the colored balls once again. Then she realized that Emilia had deliberately left the white ball where it would be hard for her to make any shot! So that’s how you strategize in this game. “Isn’t that rule a little important for you to skip? I won’t need the handicap and you’re too confident to cheat.” She sipped again. “Unless you think I’ll win?”


“Awww, you are adorable when you bluff.” Emilia cooed to her. Scarlet blushed again, taking her shot and completely missing. Scarlet did admirably for her first game, but as the game continued and the score tracker on the side showed, she was falling behind.


“You seem to be getting the hang of it.” Emilia announced as Scarlet sank another red. Scarlet took another shot, whiffing at the brown ball. She looked to Emilia and pouted at the distraction. They both sipped from their drinks.


“Don’t think I’ll respect you going easy on me.”


“Fine. If you want, we can make things interesting.”


“How? You gonna give me $50 for when I beat you?”


“A bet, but for something much more…intimate.


Scarlet felt a shiver run down her spine as Emilia spoke, her voice positively dripping with seduction. Or perhaps Scarlet was more buzzed than she originally thought.


“What did you have in mind?” She tried playing cool again, sipping. Her drink was almost empty.


“Well, I am not a mind reader, but I want to take you home with me tonight.” Scarlet had to stop herself from doing a spit take of her own. “I would like each ball we sink from here on out to be a kinky rule we play with tonight. There are still fifteen possible shots, so fifteen maximum. And if either of us are not satisfied with a rule, they can use the following shots to undo the previous. You said you were competitive, hopefully that makes you show me you are serious. Just a taste of that ‘fuck you’ punk attitude.” Emilia leaned in towards Scarlet, the seemingly minute height difference growing larger with each moment. Scarlet’s heart pounded, and she could not help but let her leg bounce, to barely contain herself as she felt burning electricity shoot through all her nerves.


Emilia stuck her hand out. “Care to play by my rules, little one?” 




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  • ezithemuse changed the title to Cupid's Punk! UPDATED 11/26 Chapter 4 COMMENCE OPERATION DATE NIGHT!
15 hours ago, ezithemuse said:

“I think I can do that.” She touched the call button once more. “Driver, could you turn around please? We had a change of plans. Take us to Sharkie’s.”


Okay I like that despite laying it on heavy she listens to Scarlet and works to make her comfortable. It's clearly a dialogue and not being forced

15 hours ago, ezithemuse said:

Emilia stuck her hand out. “Care to play by my rules, little one?” 



Okay hot...

*subby lesbian bottom squirming*

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Thanks so much! It means a lot to see people enjoying it, especially since you commented so early on!

and yeah, I'm glad Emilia is coming across as listening to Scarlet and that she's clearly pushing some buttons for my readers. Her and Scarlet are like domme me/sub me and I just write what I like and hope other people like it too!

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5- sweet as pink zabaglione


            Scarlet had all but turned her cue stick into a cane for how much she leaned on it. Her body betrayed her in the most dramatic fashion, as usual, when she almost collapsed at the knees in response to Emilia’s offer. Emilia was busy giggling to herself at the sight.


            “Look…not that it isn’t tempting,” Scarlet tried to regain command of her joints, “but we don’t know each other like…that. Shouldn’t we…?” Shouldn’t we have normal sex first? Scarlet couldn’t bring herself to say it, but covered her hesitation with the first thing that sprang to mind. A small yet important detail from that silly ‘Basics of BDSM’ video: “Negotiate safety before all that?”


            “Ah, well I find it reassuring you want to discuss basic safety now rather than later. I always use the stop light system, and if need be, a nonverbal safe word. Are you familiar?”


            “I’ve heard of it before. Red is like calling a safeword?” She was shaking, this time purely from nerves, and knew that Emilia could tell. She’d only heard about such a concept for the first time at the beginning of the week with that ridiculous channel she found on her phone. “...and no strings attached if I say red? I’m not going to lose the trial contract terms?” She could only imagine how desperate she would be, living on the street after she quit and Emilia had no legal obligation to give her severance. Was this a smart move? Was any of this? She had no family here, no other prospects, and she was wagering all that on if she even liked BDSM, let alone doing it with Emilia?


            “Of course, I’m a domme, not a monster.” Emilia leaned back on one of the sofas, sipping her drink again, and Scarlet matched her. “You just say ‘RED’ one time, and it is all over. I will stop, respect your wishes,  we are done for good, and we will never see each other again after I cut your check.” Her brilliant amber eyes locked onto her, glowing along the dim edges of the lights shining over the table.


            I call it once and we’re done. For good. “And you mean it? No revenge, nothing personal? No second thoughts on a technicality?” Her body was steadying, but her voice shook enough to make up for it.


            “I promise you,” Emilia’s eyes took on that same intensity as before, “these rules will only affect tonight and will have no cause for me to not hold up my end of our bargain.” 


Scarlet nodded, and stood tall by the table. “Then I accept. I believe it is your turn? You can show me what you had in mind.” Scarlet was grateful that she was not the one who now had to set the tone for their little contest. Emilia’s wickedly sly grin informed Scarlet that she felt the exact opposite way.


            “I would adore that opportunity to show you what I have in store. We have to start small, however.” Emilia lined up the cue with a red ball. A crack, and it glided effortlessly into the corner pocket. The grin, like a jungle cat cornering live prey, never left her face. “My first rule: You will call me any and all titles I choose from here on out. Understand?”


Scarlet nodded, swallowing hard. Emilia gestured with a hand, passing the turn back to Scarlet. “And now I can modify that, right?”


“If you make the shot, of course. Otherwise I think you should only refer to me as ‘Mistress Emilia.’” Emilia barely contained the smugness in her voice. Scarlet wanted to whimper in arousal. How could she be this confident? How could she be this sexy? How could she know how to push all of My Buttons so well? In the back of her mind, she knew what she really wanted to call Emilia while in the throws of passion. 


Scarlet sipped from her drink, almost done with the whole glass, and leaned in to shoot. Emilia had left the cue ball in an odd angle to get any red balls, but Scarlet was confident she remembered how to shoot a little English. *Ca-CRACK*, and in sank the red after curving around the blue ball in its path. Scarlet knew instantly how she could minimize the destruction that Emilia was promising. “I’m changing that. You need to do a rule per title, and pick them when you make the rule. No being vague going forward.”


Emilia gave only a thoughtful, understated nod in response. Her opponent smiled as Scarlet went to line up another shot, a simpler shot than her last. Another crack, and her ball added another five points. This time, she wasn’t sure what to add. Scarlet took a deep breath, and tried to search for what was giving her anxiety as they played. When she thought of how tonight could go poorly, aside from ending up homeless, she worried Emilia was a leather clad dominatrix with every manner of whips and crops, waiting to trick her into punishment.


“If I break any rules, I’m not going to be punished.” She looked up to Emilia, trying to appear defiant, but couldn’t resist explaining herself. “I’m new to this,” she shyly admitted.


Emilia’s domineering stance broke for a moment, her shoulders bouncing and dimples forming as she laughed. She has dimples, too? Why are you so pretty? Why am I so embarrassed? Why do I like it so much?

 “That’s fair, dear,” she finally said after regaining her composure. Emilia reached for the lounge remote and Scarlet watched as she ordered a refill for Scarlet’s sweet and salty drink.


She reestablished that same self-assured grin as Scarlet went to take her next shot. Scarlet managed to sink the green ball, and couldn’t help but cheer for herself, and blabbered out the first rule she could think of. “I don’t like degradation. No calling me mean names like that.” Scarlet swallowed, “things like…’whore,’ ‘slut’…I don’t like it.” She went about lining up her next shot, riding high on her first three successes in a row.


Emilia’s lips curled, as she cut deep. Scarlet had unintentionally exposed her weak spot mid shot. “So there are kinds of names you do like?”


Scarlet scratched, the white ball sinking as her cue went crooked. “Perhaps.”


Emilia laughed to herself, covering her mouth with her hand like before. She held up a finger to pause the conversation as she accepted a replacement drink for Scarlet from the waitress, waiting for the door to close behind them. Emilia’s designer shoes led her to Scarlet, and the younger woman felt herself shrink as she was handed the drink. “I’m going to sink this, and you’re going to tell me.”


*Ca-CRACK!* The ball bounced twice and nudged a red ball off the lip of the pocket, letting gravity pull it over the edge. Emilia turned to Scarlet, eyes beaming with expectation. Scarlet blushed harder, and knew she needed to dig deep for the things she really enjoyed from that video, without giving away the game.


“Praise…affectionate names. I can’t take being called a whore, unless it’s like,” she swallowed again, having never admitted this out loud, “my good little whore. My Slutty Princess. Good girl, too.” She wanted to melt where she stood and disappear. 


Emilia gave her a small smirk. She could see right through Scarlet, and they both knew it. She circled the table for her next shot, but really she was circling her date.


*Ca-CRACK*! Another pocketed ball. Another pause pregnant with nervous anticipation.


“Show me the last porn you looked at,” Emilia commanded, “I’m certain you have still got your private browser up. If not, I can wait until you find it.” Scarlet could see the barest hint of her date’s cheeks flushing, but it paled in comparison to her own.


Her hands trembled, and everything in her body told her to just leave. But somehow, the idea of showing this to her date thrilled her. She opened her phone, tapped the browser, and sure enough, the video was still open. She hadn’t closed it from the previous night. Scarlet let out a small squeak as Emilia’s hand suddenly lifted the phone away from Scarlet, full of grace yet forceful enough to tell Scarlet it was useless to resist. Scarlet’s eyes went wide as her phone’s speakers began projecting the moans and cries of the hapless woman, her crinkling diaper, and malicious giggling of her ‘Mommy.’ Emilia wordlessly handed the phone back.


“You are making this quite easy for me, you know?”




Emilia smirked, “You are going to call me mommy,” *Ca-Crack!* The ball shot to the pocket as adrenaline shot through Scarlet. “Then I am going to put you in a diaper, just like you want.” *Ca-Crack* Her face grew so hot it matched her namesake. Emilia passed the turn to the flustered woman.


Scarlet took a shot of her new drink, and took her shot full of adrenaline. It bounced once, and sank her target. “I’m not going to use it!” She blurted it out without consideration, acting purely on impulse. If she slowed down to whimper under Emilia’s gaze at every rule, she would go into cardiac arrest. Instead, she tried to rush through, not allowing her brain enough time to focus on anything but winning. 


“And yet, you only modified it, rather than just outright undoing it.” Fuck.


Scarlet doubled down on her ‘rush through the cringe’ strategy. Thankfully Emilia hid her mirth when Scarlet missed her attempt on the green ball.


“Better luck next time, darling,” she cooed, and waited for the cue ball to stop. Scarlet kicked herself as it slowed to an effortless shot to another corner pocket, and Emilia scored just as effortlessly. “You will beg for permission to cum, in baby talk.” Scarlet had to be discreet, but put her knees together, leaning forward in hopes of hiding the physical reaction that was beginning. She remembered herself before Emilia took her next shot.


“You only get one of those per shot!”


Emilia considered, clearly amused at Scarlet’s reactions. “The baby talk, then, starting as soon as we leave.” Emilia effortlessly sank another, this time bouncing against three walls to hit her target. Emilia IS sharking me. She looked up to her date. “And I'm going to edge you as much as I like.” She did her passing gesture again, somehow patronizingly handing off Scarlet’s fate to her increasingly drunk state. Scarlet noticed Emilia was still on her first drink.


She’s getting me drunk so I don't have a chance. Scarlet realized the depth of her position, almost completely at the other woman’s mercy. The secretary knew, deep down, that was also what she wanted. But nobody gets the best of me without a fight, ever.


She was done with babbling out the first rule she could think of. Scarlet knew that denying the thrill in her chest was pointless. Much to her chagrin, she liked the thought of Emilia’s elaborate efforts to humiliate her. Aside from that, rushing through things would not let her effectively participate in their little duel. She could hardly riposte if she was too busy fending for her life.


Scarlet did her count, and checked against the chart on the wall. There were only three balls remaining, and she needed to get the blue ball next. If she got any two, she would pass Emilia’s twenty five points and win. If Emilia got any other, she would win. Scarlet lied to herself that she would be happy with a close game. It only mattered who made the final rule, and she knew that. She focused, realizing she had a straight shot for the blue, but nothing she could do would line her up for the following pink ball. The baby pink ball. She settled for her best bet, a bank off the corner wall. *Ca-crack!* It sank, and she looked Emilia in the eye with hot defiance.


“You get to edge me ONCE. No more.” We both know we both want this. That doesn’t mean I’ll roll over for you.


            Emilia’s face gave away her curiosity, and Scarlet knew that was her leverage. She could put up just the right amount of fight to have Emilia give her what she wanted without breaking her.


            Scarlet’s next shot whiffed, completely out of line with the bank she needed. Her heart sank. Emilia elegantly stood from her spot on the sofa, and lined up her shot with practiced precision. To Scarlet’s credit, she had to align, realign, and then reverse her grip in order to make the curved shot required. But the cue cracked against the pink and it rolled into the center pocket. She flashed her teeth like a lion.


            “You will get five spanks per point that I have.” Scarlet’s heart pounded again. She hadn’t been spanked since the fourth grade, and back then she bawled immediately. Would this woman really do that? Emilia was already six points up, so to the bare minimum it was thirty,  but would this be a fun, sexy spanking? The woman tied up in the video was borderline crying. Would she go out of her way to make Scarlet cry? She found the idea thrilling, but couldn’t help but feel like a grown woman blubbering in tears wasn’t the sexiest thing in the world.


            Scarlet came back to reality as Emilia was lining up her shot, the final ball. The hard, black resin was polished to a mirror sheen, and reflected Scarlet’s flushed cheeks and wide eyes back to her. Emilia looked ready, but to take her shot or deliver a supervillain speech, Scarlet wasn’t sure. She got her answer when Emilia’s beautiful eyes, shining gold as they caught overhead light, locked with her again.


“And when I sink this, and after your 65 spanks over my knee, we will have a little photoshoot tonight. My own private scrapbook of the night ahead, so I can always remember it.”


Scarlet felt her heart as it was tugged in opposite directions, threatening to tear down the middle. One part of her screamed with excitement, wanting to wrap her arms around the woman and kiss her, hard. The more rational, reasonable part of her brain abhorred the idea of anyone having such pictures. Her ex didn’t even have Scarlet’s nudes anymore, and she had seen them all deleted. Scarlet had to do something to minimize her humiliation. But what?


Emilia looked back down, eyes aligned to her custom cue, and she got ready to shoot. Scarlet stood on the opposite side, dumbly watching, frantically searching for an answer. Finally, inspiration struck.


In one motion, she knocked her phone from its spot on the table rim, where it had stayed since Emilia had handed it back. It crashed to the floor, and Scarlet bent at the waist, deliberately forcing her ass and panties, covered only by sheer tights, right into Emilia’s eyeline. Scarlet felt another thrill form in her chest, exposed as she was. However, she didn’t have time to stand back up before the telltale crashing sound of the cue hitting the black ball rang out.


Both balls bounced with dull thuds against the rim of the table. 65 spanks… over her knee…

Once each… And a photography session…

twice…time slowed. For her scrapbook…

Scarlet was already halfway up, and waiting to hear the sound of a ball sinking into the pockets… but it never came.


Scarlet was dumbfounded when she was back to full height. The black ball was still visible, inches off course from the corner pocket it was aligned to. The white ball had rolled all the way back to Emilia…and perfectly aligned for Scarlet’s rebuttal.


            “Now I suppose you will say ‘that wasn’t interference,’ hm?” Emilia’s eyes were still shining, giving an annoyed smile that betrayed that she wasn’t as mad as Scarlet expected.


            “I learned from the shark! Is that against the rules?” She did her best to give puppy dog eyes to her date, her own smile of satisfaction giving her away in return.


            “You’re not going to be so cheeky when I get my way.”


            “I dunno, Emilia. I think you’re admitting you either cheated this game…or you're just bad at it?” She gave a look of mock disappointment at her opponent’s poor sportsmanship.


            “Go ahead and take your shot. You still need to win before you talk that big.”


            “Think I can’t make a shot that easy?” Scarlet was incredulous, pointing out how obviously straightforward her victory lap would be.


            “It is not a matter of if you can,” Emilia began, piquing Scarlet’s interest, “but a matter of if you want to.


            Scarlet narrowed her eyes, and she leaned in to her shot to show she was serious. “And I wouldn’t want to because…?”


            “You want to give in.” Emilia answered, matter of factly. She was already breaking down her collapsing cue stick to return it to the case. She looked back up to Scarlet. “I can tell by the way you modify, but do not undo many rules. You want me to be in control. So I propose we double down.”




            “If you make this shot, we only do what you want, within what is safe, and none of my rules proposed so far count.” Emilia began, completely calm, like she was explaining the cause of a parking violation.


            Scarlet was waiting for the other shoe to drop. She drank again. “And if I miss?”


            “We do only my rules, within what is safe, and none of your rebuttals matter for tonight.” She stood to her full height, and walked back in front of Scarlet, emphasizing her height for the third time tonight. Scarlet knew calling her a supervillain earlier was on the money now. But she knew she wanted that safety net of calling the shots. She could frost her cake, covering it in kinky sex with her drop dead gorgeous boss, and then eat it too. She would get to set the pace, to savor it. She could have control of her life for the first time in how long? Her heart pounded, her brain in a haze of alcohol and arousal.


Or is that what I really want?


            “Deal.” How could she not? Emilia didn’t let her consider the question.


            “Wonderful. Deep down…I know this is what you want. You want to give in, but you want to fight it first. It saves you some small dignity. It even makes it sexier, to convince yourself that you were forced, doesn’t it? You will try to convince yourself that you enjoy the control and embarrassment, not the acts. Yet, my dear, dear, Scarlet…I know it is every single moment, dripping with humiliation as I give you everything you want, that you crave. I want you to remember that. I want you to remember that you want the acts AND to be controlled. I want you to think about it every time you call me ‘Mommy.’”


Scarlet felt her heart pounding loud enough she had to focus to hear Emilia’s words.


“So throw the game. Miss the shot, and be all mine. Miss the shot, and I’ll be ‘Mommy,’ just like you want deep down.” Emilia leaned in to whisper, hot breath tickling Scarlet’s ear, “and you can be my little princess, bound and begging, just like your little video.”


Scarlet’s breath caught in her throat. She was torn in the same halves as before. The world spun, then focused with her in the spotlight.


She took a deep breath. She thought about what she really wanted. How controlling her life had treated her before.


And took her shot.


The cue ball slowly rolled into the black ball.  They kissed gently, the black ball inching towards the pocket while Scarlet smiled the whole time, looking up at Emilia.  A single, satisfying, effortless kerplunk told Scarlet all she needed to know.


Emilia did nothing to hide her small disappointment at the white ball not following suit. Did she only want to fuck Scarlet if she had complete control?


“So what is your decision? We do what you want.” Emilia did her best not to be a sore loser, but Scarlet could tell by the way her smile was not as bright and vibrant as before. She was no longer a predator cornering prey, she was a winded animal, resting after being outrun.


“You said we get to do what I want if I win, right?” Scarlet was breathless, desperate. She wanted Emilia to stay. She knew how to actually have her cake and eat it too. “So let’s get out of here.”


“Excuse me?”


“This place is still too stuffy for me. I’m not used to places with coat checks. Take me to your place.” She felt her hands shaking as she set the pool cue down, and took the last sips of her second drink. She prayed she could drink enough water between now and the end of the night to not be hungover. Her prayer to whatever goddesses were listening finished with a plea for this gambit working.


“And our rules?”


“...they can come along with us. I’ll submit to every rule you won.” Scarlet felt the familiar fluster spread from her chest to her face, her ears burning with embarrassment. Was she even playing this little game correctly? Emilia is clearly an expert, was Scarlet being obvious, or was she still enticing her date? “And I p-pwomise I’ll…” she cleared her throat, “I pwomise i’ll beg to make cummies wike a good giwl.” She couldn’t help but back down from meeting Emilia’s gaze, her eyes shooting down to her boots. The warm thrill burned hotter still in her chest, mixed with her newfound fear.


Is that good enough, Mommy? Did you like that? Did I do it right? The thoughts stayed chained to the inside of her head, unable to free themselves and become speech. Scarlet wanted to say it, even if only to show Emilia how badly she wanted to play her part. There was a dance to it, Scarlet could tell, in the give and take of this type of kink. Scarlet was terrified, completely out of her depth. Calling her ‘Mommy’ here and now was too much.


I want to make you feel good. Just as good as I feel when you talk about controlling me.What if she gets so humiliated she can’t be a good partner?   What if she gave up all control…and Emilia got bored of her?


Emilia’s bright smile and radiant eyes returned, positively twinkling with her own excitement. “Then we should probably get this good girl home and tucked into bed, shouldn’t we?”

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  • ezithemuse changed the title to Cupid's Punk! UPDATED 12/1 Chapter 5 High Stakes Strip Billiards!
10 hours ago, YourFNF said:


I take it you liked it???



in all seriousness, thanks for reading and commenting! Always makes my day to have a notification pop up!



now just wait for chapter 6 ?

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8 hours ago, ezithemuse said:

now just wait for chapter 6 ?

sakdjkjkd *nervous lesbian subby bottom squirming*

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small edit in chapter 4. Just some details. I made a note to do a Painkiller, which is a fucked up Pina Colada and accidentally didn't change it properly before I posted

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6- both rose and solferina.


            “Can I take a second out here?” Scarlet asked at the stoop of Emilia’s home. It was equal parts nerves and a craving that stopped her.


            “Is something the matter?” Emilia turned from her opened door, replacing her keys back into her purse with a look of concern.


            Scarlet’s face burned red, hoping Emilia would just walk away to give her the five minutes she needed. “I uh,” she stammered, “I smoke when I’m drunk.”


            Emilia raised an eyebrow.


            “Only when I’m drunk! It’s a bad habit, I know. That being said, somebody ordered me a second one and only had one themselves.” Scarlet teased, and retrieved the withered pack of cigarettes from inside her purse, untouched for some time, along with her lighter. Scarlet could sense the pause in the conversation and felt her nervousness rise. “I hope that’s not a deal breaker. They’re menthol. Either way you don’t have to stay out here with me.”


            “It is no problem at all dear.” Emilia’s eyes showed an uncommon amount of sincerity as she gave a small smile. Scarlet swore she was thinking back, remembering a different time. Perhaps Emilia smoked once upon a time? “Make sure it is completely out when you’re done, okay? Then join me in the kitchen when you are done, I have water for us and a tour to lead.”


Scarlet met her smile and sparked the lighter.


It never felt better than when she was nice and tipsy. She hated that she still craved it, but at least she didn’t while sober. Now of all times was embarrassing, especially when she had spent the limo ride back pent up and horny as all get out. But now that she was here, facing the elaborate two story house that would be at home in Bel-air? She was all nerves. The single menthol flew by, helping her calm in a way fidgeting never did. She put out the butt, and for lack of a trash can or ash tray, returned it to the pack. Scarlet let herself in, and tried not to gasp at the luxurious interior.


“If that is you, dear, take your shoes off and place them in that first hallway. Floors are freshly clean.”  Emilia’s voice called out from further in, and Scarlet saw the spot in question. Emilia’s heels were resting there, and Scarlet tried to gracefully remove her boots as well. She only slightly swayed like a drunk as she did.  The cool hardwood felt good against her feet through her tights, and she followed a light towards what she assumed was the kitchen.


There her lovely date was, the picture of domesticity as she snacked on a  homemade roll and drank deeply from a glass of water. “You were not wrong when you said I did get you drunk. If it helps, have as much bread and water as you like.” Emilia gestured to a plate and a second glass.


Scarlet nodded, and took her glass, stomach unbothered. With a small thanks, she drank, having to steady the glass with both hands. “I appreciate it. But I was mostly teasing. I spent a lot of highschool weekends drunk on the curb of garage shows.” She had a pang of nostalgia as her vocal fry slipped out. “The music is so bad I'd rather be smoking.”


She felt herself start to ramble again.  “Anyway, I’m still game for…the tour.” Scarlet tried to be nonchalant, to bring up her mask that allowed her to operate through her anxiety and depression, whichever was worse at the time. Yet, Emilia had some kind of effect on her. Whenever she reached for that place, Scarlet found herself coming up empty.


I…want to be genuine?


“Still, it will not do either of us any good if one of us is too inebriated to function.” She winked playfully to Scarlet, and she felt a small blush creep across her face.  Emilia finished her glass and curled a finger, beckoning Scarlet to follow.


“You have seen the kitchen, the dining room you walked through,” Emilia practically glided across the floor, passing lavishly decorated rooms, paintings on walls and designer furniture. “The living room of course, there’s a bathroom down the hall. And past that is my office. Would you like to see?”


“You have a home office?”


“I do, and I figured you might be interested in comparing it to work. Not sure if it would bore you beyond that, but you are welcome to look through my bookshelf as you like.” Emilia led Scarlet back, down a hall away from the door, and through a set of double doors. A high-end desk, all intricate carvings and sharp angles of a highly detailed craftsman. It sat against one wall, facing a window with a view into the manicured, blooming garden. The whole room was lined by regal bookshelves. Scarlet’s eyes adjusted as Emilia flicked on a few low lights. “This is all simply reference material,” she gestured to one side, “but this is my collection of novels.”


Scarlet’s ears perked at that. “Novels? What’s your favorite?” Scarlet moved to scan the shelves in question, unsure of what Emilia’s taste would entail. She quickly found herself among a wall of the Capital-C, Capital-L Classic Literature that she abhorred in college. The Odyssey. Dracula. War and Peace. Collected Works of Herman Melville. 


“Oh, I see. One of thooooose.” she rolled her eyes in mock annoyance.


“Too bougie for you? I thought you had a Literature Degree?” Emilia laughed, leaning against her desk, just like she did at work.


“It’s in Poetry!” Scarlet’s defense sounded whinier than she had intended.  “I like it so much I got my name from a poem.” She felt her rambling urges return, and this time she had no intention of stopping. “And I just don’t get why fuckin’ Moby Dick needs to be that long?! It’s about revenge! I get it! You can do that in half the pages! Poetry does that in like, a few stanzas AT MOST.” She was not in control of her body, a passive rider as her passions controlled her. She ripped the Herman Melville collection from the wall. “And before you say ‘ohhh it’s Formalist. It’s supposed to be obsessively detailed to portray obsessive revenge,’” she dropped the mock intellectual voice she used. “I know it is! That doesn’t make it fun to read! It should be CONCISE!”


Scarlet watched as Emilia covered her mouth again, laughing clear and high, no attempt to hold back for appearances. Scarlet felt her face warm as Emilia collected herself, only slightly embarrassed this time. Instead, she was happy…her chest grew warm at the thought of bringing laughter to Emilia’s night.


“You certainly have a strong opinion about it. I suppose all sensitive souls think that way about art, no?” The question was rhetorical, as Emilia stood, and took the book from Scarlet’s hands. Their fingers brushed, and it was like lightning sparking dead brambles into flame. Scarlet watched as Emilia hesitated for a moment at the contact, irises fluctuating in the low light. The pair stood there, silent and barely touching, for just a moment too long. Emilia gave a small smile, then returned the book. Scarlet felt the lingering heat on her fingers. It was different from hanging on Emilia’s arm as she did before.


 “I will concede that it takes an unbearable amount of time to read. I heard you say ‘concise.’  Do you feel poetry is more…,” she searched for the right word, “ dense? Is it denser because it is shorter?”


“I’m not saying it’s bad. But it’s bad for me.” Scarlet backpedaled a bit, not wanting to hurt Emilia’s feelings on something she genuinely cared for. “My favorite poetry has an inherent rhythm. You can’t miss it, because it’s only a few stanzas long. It has its heart on its sleeve. It tells you how to read it just by reading it. I know novels do that on, like, a bigger scale. But it’s not the same to me.”


“That is more than fair. Yet, many things need that time to breathe. I think of it like a candle, how music exists between two notes, or…a well tended plant.” Emilia responded, eyes turning to the flowers and bushes out the window. “Just because it takes longer to bloom does not make it less, correct? Roses require much more work than sunflowers. Both get sonnets written about them, no?”


Scarlet was enthralled, hanging on every word. Emilia’s eyes were positively shining, a set of perfect jewels reflecting light through every facet. She wanted to kiss those perfect lips, but could not bring herself to interrupt.


“But when you put the labor and love into a rose, it is beautiful in part because of that work. Then, you have to wait for another season once it is done blooming. There is beauty in that. That’s how I think of novels. Cycles.  Long cycles, that take a lot of work to see to fruition. It is hard to see when you start, but every time it has been worth the effort.” Emilia sighed, clearly satisfied that her explanation went somewhere, and obviously resonated with Scarlet, who could not keep her eyes from giving her away.


“I…I see the appeal.” Scarlet said dumbly, barely registering their actual meaning for appreciating the raw, gorgeous portrait that Emilia cut in the soft light of the reading lamps. Scarlet couldn’t have tried to seem cool in this moment if her life depended on it. Where was the girl who had been so distant the past year to any suitor, that she drove them away? She was so lost in Emilia’s glow that she missed her hostess’s response. “I’m sorry?”


“I said, To the Lighthouse. Virginia Woolf. You asked my favorite novel, then jumped into your little…monologue.” Emilia giggled at her own joke, the same satisfied, confident smile Scarlet adored.


“What’s it about?” She asked dumbly. She had to remind herself to breathe.


“A family’s vacation to an island in Scotland. And the young woman they commissioned to paint a portrait. It is beautiful, does not require any direct action but speaks volumes on…how people think. How they feel. The minute actions that—” Emilia brushed her long, raven black hair behind one ear, the shocking streak of platinum blonde moving with it, “—tell someone how we really feel about them.”


Scarlet couldn’t help herself. I’m going to do it.


She crossed the distance in two steps, it’s really happening.


Emilia’s eyes went wide for an instant, and then relaxed.


  Scarlet pressed her lips against Emilia’s soft, tender mouth, delighted to feel her reciprocate. I’m kissing her. I’m really kissing her. She lost herself in the tender motions, no anxiety, no insecurity, only sparks and heat and soft skin sending waves of pleasure through her body. Scarlet could taste Emilia’s peach lip gloss.


Emilia breathed hard, a small moan escaping into Scarlet’s mouth from hers. Scarlet could taste her hot breath, the barest hint of alcohol tickling her own tongue. She imagined her tongue inside the whiskey glass that Emilia cradled all night, Emilia’s hot breath tingling inside her mouth. Scarlet had to suppress a whimper in return, but her knees still bent as she felt her arousal intensify. Emilia was enjoying this just as much as her.


There is terror in being known. To being vulnerable.


But oh, god was a drunken kiss with a pretty woman worth all that.


After a long enough time, they broke to breathe properly. Scarlet wanted to bathe in the afterglow, staying serene as she had been while lip-locked. Her brain would not allow it. Her thoughts jumped to how to make the pause less awkward.


“And it takes a whole novel to say that?” Emilia laughed at Scarlet’s question.


“Well, it takes place over ten years, you see. It is also about how we are forced to grow as the world moves on. It takes about an hour and a half to say all that.” Emilia smirked at her, reeling Scarlet into another wordplay trap. “Sometimes the best things in life take a long, long time to…come.”


Scarlet’s face practically steamed as the innuendo hit her.


“Now come along, I assume you want to go upstairs at some point tonight?” Emilia returned the book, like she was putting something out of reach of a child, and stepped towards the door. She stopped, and held her hand out for Scarlet, who eagerly took it. They moved towards a lofty staircase with polished banisters, and up to the second floor. Scarlet was lost in her own head, marveling at how a grown woman could feel like a teenager again, sweating at the notion of holding hands, after the right date. She focused again to listen to the beauty leading her through her home.


“And there’s another bathroom on the right down that hall. Ignore the other door, that’s not for you. My bedroom is this way.” Emilia sounded firm, serious about the warning given.


“Can I see it another time?” She danced to the edge of the line.


“Maybe if you’re good.” Emilia looked over her shoulder, winking at Scarlet, who resisted the urge to melt in embarrassment. Instead, she rolled her eyes once Emilia was looking away, trying to play like she wasn’t enjoying being patronized.


“Not very subtle, dear. I thought you learned from that time with the politician?”


Scarlet’s heart skipped, blushing at being caught.  They stopped at the landing. “You could tell?”


“You do not get to be a good mommy without dealing with a few brats. If you are anything like them, I can read you like a book.”


“Fire away. Read me.” It was half provocation, half interest in her beautiful hostess’s mind.


“I already did, at Sharkie’s, remember?” Scarlet blushed again, looking away sheepishly.


Emilia grabbed Scarlet’s chin, and pointed the shorter woman’s face back at her.


“You want to let go and be controlled but you will not say it out loud. Instead, you want to resist and be forced to comply..” Emilia’s tone tingled the hair on the back of Scarlet’s neck, and she was enraptured by the golden eyes through low lids.


She was looking down at Scarlet, a step above and towering over her. A sneer of confidence formed as she lowered her voice even more.


“And I happen to be very good at making brats beg for what they want instead of provoking me. So do not make me repeat myself again.”



Scarlet nodded, equal parts fearful and excited at the prospect.


“Scarlet is such a lovely name. Will you read me the poem you got it from?” Emilia led Scarlet into a plush, carpeted master bedroom with the fanciest bed Scarlet had ever seen. With a gentle lead, she brought Scarlet to the bed, and gently but firmly forced her to sit on the edge.


Scarlet couldn’t resist the temptation, “Maybe if you’re good.” she teased Emilia with her own words, sticking her tongue out. She watched as Emilia shook, and it took a moment, but Scarlet could see it was not from anger, but anticipation. She was excited. As excited as Scarlet was. The thought made Scarlet positively drip with arousal, and Emilia gave a smile that said she was ready to get back at Scarlet for her teasing.


“The rules we agreed on.” Emilia said, removing her jacket. Her voice trembled slightly, giving away her eagerness. “Traffic lights for safewords.” She tossed the jacket, now showing off the corset and fitted blouse she wore underneath. Emilia undid the top buttons, and her cleavage drew Scarlet’s eyes.


“First rule, I am your Mommy, and you call me ‘Mommy’ from here on. Am I understood?” Emilia leaned over Scarlet, who could only feel herself shrink.


Scarlet nodded, and Emilia used one finger to lift her chin again.


“That’s, ‘Yes, Mommy.’”


Scarlet swallowed as her face started to glow bright red. “Yes, m-mommy.” Emilia studied her face, the same look of a predator, observing her like she was on a lab table.


“You really do like that, don’t you? Did you want to call me mommy back at Sharkie’s?” Emilia took one leg, bringing it up to the edge of the bed next to Scarlet.


Scarlet felt herself shrink more. She leaned back to look up to Emilia, and nodded before correcting herself, “yes, Mommy.”


“Poor thing,” Emilia’s voice practically dripped with condescension and arousal, “well let’s get through the rest of the rules quickly then, shall we? I’m not going to punish you tonight if you slip up, and I will not call you ‘mean’ names.”


Scarlet blushed, remembering how easily she had played into giving away her preferences.


“Just sweet ones. I can sense a praise kink a mile away, so we will just stick with good girl, if you can earn it.”  Emilia was practically whispering it into Scarlet’s ears, and she fell backwards onto the bed. Emilia’s soft comforter cushioned the fall well enough. Scarlet’s burning ears reminded her that no, she did not die from embarrassment. She wished she had.


“Mommy is going to spank and diaper you,” Emilia enunciated, driving home the humiliation for the flustered woman beneath her, “and you will use nothing but baby talk for the rest of the evening. I let you off easy, since technically you should have started in the limo. Babies don’t exactly give speeches about Moby Dick, do they?” Scarlet flushed and looked away for a moment at the mention of getting off easy.


“If you are extra good, I will allow you to beg for permission to cum. Then I will take as many pictures as I like. Understand?”


“Y-yes, Mommy.” Scarlet swore her body shook so much Emilia could hear her nervous heartbeat, but she gave no such indication.


“Now. There is just one last thing.” Emilia sighed, breathing deeply. Scarlet felt her body language shift, but couldn’t quite pin why, or how.


“I have not personally slept with a trans woman before. I want you to be comfortable. What should I know about your body before we start?”


Scarlet’s heart dropped through her chest. There were times she was so caught up with life, or excitement, or just busy, that sometimes…she forgot she was trans? If she hadn’t had to look at what was in her panties for a while, she forgot it existed sometimes. Reality came crashing back to her, and for all the tenderness Emilia gave the topic, she was still anxious to discuss it.


“I uh…I haven’t had bottom surgery yet.” Scarlet scanned Emilia’s face, looking for some sign of disgust. Emilia’s eyes said she understood. She gave no sign of disgust.


“It…doesn’t work like a cis man’s. And I don’t want it to. It’s…softer…cuter. Doesn’t get as hard.” Scarlet wasn’t sure what all her partners wanted to hear before sex, and felt like she was rambling, hoping to get to the point. She scanned Emilia’s face again, and still, nothing but compassion, interest and understanding.


“I…call it something specific.” Emilia raised an eyebrow. “A girldick?”


Emilia tapped her chin in thought. “Very effeminate, cute. Diminutive, but to the point. I imagine you want me to use nothing but that unless I check first. Is that the goal?”


“Yes, Mommy.” Scarlet wanted to slap herself for going back into ‘character’ out of nervousness. Emilia was right, however, and being understood that way made Scarlet only want her more.


“Good. Thank you for explaining it to me.” Emilia’s eyes were still full of compassion and interest. In a mere moment, they flashed, bringing back the dominant. “You won’t regret it. Or maybe you will, just a smidge. We shall see how you feel when you look through the photos.” Emilia smiled down at her, flashing her teeth like an animal.


Scarlet quivered under her, but Emilia simply stepped back, and moved to the closet on the other side of the room. Scarlet rose to her elbows to watch her date move, admiring…assets. After she had said all that, she was walking away?




“I was certain I told my date to only call me Mommy for the evening.”


Scarlet’s blush was back with a vengeance, “...Mommy?”


“Yes, my princess?”


The flustered woman melted into the soft quilt, “what’re you doing?”


“Did you forget you were going to be in a diaper tonight?”


Scarlet’s arms gave out, returning her to her back on the plush bed as she covered her face in humiliation. Oh Jesus, of course she was serious… wait…


“You have some? Why do you have d-diapers in your closet?” Scarlet wanted to kick herself for stuttering. Why was she so embarrassed about them now? She’d babysat before, she never was embarrassed then! That stupid fucking video.


“You and Lila are not the first subs that I know to be into diapers. I host other mommies and daddies who need to change their little ones, too.”


Scarlet whined into her hands as they covered her face again. “I’m not into them! I’ve never even thought about them before I saw that stupid video!”


Emilia returned, and Scarlet spread her fingers so she could see the beautiful woman over her. In one hand she had a large, opened package, and in the other a smaller sealed one. It looked like the plastic packaging from ordering online.


“You certainly are acting like you are.”  Emilia’s smirk made Scarlet want to melt. “Eyes open, sweetie. I only brought what looked like it would fit, and I need you to pick.”


Scarlet nervously moved her hands to rest on her chest, taking in the sight. Once she was done ogling her gorgeous date, she focused on the instruments of her humiliation.


The opened package had ‘Northshore’ written across it, and thick, plasticky looking contents, solid white. They reminded her of passing the Depends when she was in the drugstore, and they looked comfortable enough. About half the package was gone, so Emilia likely was telling the truth.


The other, smaller bag looked like it had a mix and match of designs. Designs, Scarlet realized. Like the pictures she’d seen the other night. Pink Princesses, Flowers, Baby Blocks, Cartoon Animals, all of which looked at home in a nursery, patterned the diapers inside what was obviously a sampling pack. Scarlet didn’t know how much more her heart could take, and picking the ones with the prints might make it give out.


She would be lying to herself if she said she wasn’t curious. If there wasn’t a call, a building desire to explore the more infantile designs. Scarlet would also be lying to herself if she picked them now. She wasn’t ready. She lifted a trembling hand and pointed to the ‘Northshore Megamax’.


“Excellent choice, my little Scarlet Girl.” Emilia cooed, dropping the sample pack and fishing one of the cursed plastic rectangles with the freed hand. She set the package down, the white pillow gently resting between two fingers. She leaned forward, hovering over Scarlet again, and gently dragged the crinkling object across Scarlet’s thigh. “I thought you detested diapers? You certainly are blushing hard for someone who does not want to wear them.”


Even through her dress, Scarlet felt the electricity from Emilia’s indirect touch, and Scarlet felt herself whimper quietly, practically shaking at the sweet but condescending tone. She could feel a small spurt of precum into her panties as her arousal grew with her anticipation.  Emilia set the diaper down on the bed next to Scarlet, laughing to herself softly in satisfaction. She was clearly enjoying having Scarlet under her thumb. Scarlet was enjoying being under it too.


“First, I want you to take this,” Emilia balled one hand, extended her thumb, and moved it towards Scarlet’s face. ‘Mommy’ was standing tall over her, back to her full height while Scarlet sat on the bed, and the thumb was now level with Scarlet’s eyes and Emilia’s stomach. Scarlet could clearly tell where this was going. Her tormentor’s tone went back to its old, patronizing ways, “and do exactly what I say.”


“What’s that?” Scarlet’s voice trembled.


“Baby talk. You are not being punished but I expect you to follow your rules.”


Scarlet’s voice trembled more as she searched for the words. “Wat’s dat?”


“I want you to suck my thumb, exactly like you want me to suck your cute girldick.”


Scarlet’s heart hammered, and she practically came on the spot. She stammered some nonsense before giving up on forming words, and nodded.


“That’s ‘yes, Mommy.’ I thought you wanted to be a good girl?”


Scarlet’s nerves shot with electricity, arousal coursing through every part of her. If she weren’t so dedicated to playing the part of a submissive, she would have thrown herself around Emilia. Yet, she was, so she merely took a breath and replied, “yes, Mommy.”


“That’s my good girl.”


Scarlet shivered with delight. She licked her lips, letting out a nervous breath as she eyed the digit. Scarlet slowly sat up, her feet folding underneath her bottom. She opened her mouth, closed her eyes, leaned forward. She took Emilia’s thumb into her mouth.

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  • ezithemuse changed the title to Cupid's Punk! UPDATED 12/8 Chapter 6, Taking Her Home With You.
7 hours ago, YourFNF said:





Hehehehe. That was all just foreplay! Honey how are you gonna handle when they actually start having sex?

that being said, thanks so much for the comments. In as much as this is the first story I've ever shared publically, you're my first regular commenter. 

Tune in next thursday! Same diaper time, same diaper forum

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Happy Slowburn Payoff Day!!! Every Sapphic's Favorite time of year! I might miss next week because of the holiday but until then, enjoy a DOUBLE LENGTH CHAPTER

now, before we begin, let's play Two Truths and a Lie

In this chapter:
1) I, Ezi, teach you how to give a good blowjob via Scarlet's POV
2) They finally fuck
3) Emilia doesn't call Scarlet good girl until the last line of the chapter.

7- different names for dolls

How hard could it be? I’ve sucked strap before. Hell, I'm GREAT at it. Like riding a bike right?


It was not like riding a bike, nor sucking strap.


Scarlet felt the soft, warm thumb enter her mouth, and began slowly exploring with her tongue. She experienced a new set of sensations she never had before. Of course she was humiliated, that was a given—and not new considering the events of the evening. The slightly salty tang of skin, the smooth, hard surface of Emilia’s nail, their slightly pointed edges, the folds in the joints. All of these were new.


There was no time to be distracted by stimulus, however. Scarlet focused instead on dragging her tongue slowly around the finger, trying to be sensual and appear at least hesitant for a moment. That hesitation was important, the pause created contrast. She looked up at Emilia’s face, a satisfied grin on the taller woman’s face. She softened her eyes, trying to look needy, yet shy. Coquettish.


Tops always love that shit.


Scarlet could not remember the last time she’d sucked a thumb. She’d had other women’s fingers in her mouth before, sure. But she’d never been expected to “perform” then like one was when sucking dick, plastic or otherwise. Not that she’d had experience with the organic kind.


Instead, the digit was just short enough that she could barely do anything elaborate with it. But hell if she didn’t give it her all.


She bobbed her head, faster than she had intended, but dramatic. Contrast. Breathe. She was telling a story. The coy, sexy bottom warming up to their top’s depraved desire. That’s what this act really meant, at least with every other person she’d fucked. She hadn’t felt this good in a long time, and she knew it by how much precum was dripping into her panties.


Slow, dramatic crescendos, letting the tongue explore and lick with the downward motions, letting the tension release without climaxing. After Emilia’s thumb was good and wet, she realized she had not been looking up at her partner for a moment, instead too focused on the stage where she was performing. Gotta play to your audience.


Scarlet preemptively softened her eyes again, and prepared her lustiest gaze. She let the thumb leave her mouth with a small pop, letting her cheek rest on Emilia’s balled fist. She looked up at the imposing woman, slowly continuing to lick the base of the thumb. It was all porn acting, but that’s what they wanted. It’s also what made her feel sexy. Or, rather, the flush of red on her partner’s face did. Emilia, likewise, was now red in the face, her eyes full of lust and desire. Scarlet couldn’t help but show her smug, triumphant grin as she continued. She raised a hand up and began vulgarly pumping the wet thumb like a cock, to give her mouth a break.


“Am I doing it right, Mommy?”


Scarlet could’ve giggled with glee as she noticed an almost imperceptible nervous swallow from her paramour. She decided to suppress the laughter for her partner’s sake, and instead transformed it into another coy smile. When Emilia said nothing Scarlet resumed her performance.


Scarlet’s mouth wrapped tightly around the digit again, and instantly matched the tempo her hand had reached before. Take your time. It’s not like she’s going to cum too fast or something. It’s all foreplay. She was now in what she called “The Sprint”. When she imagined doing it on her occasional male crush or anyone with those parts, this was where the performance was at breaking point. Bobbing in rhythm, breathing deeply and taking dramatic licks to catch her breath. She felt Emilia’s arm trembling as the show went on and Scarlet increased in speed.


The coquette counted to sixty in her head, then with another small pop, releasing the digit, and letting a small line of wet saliva, a spider web in dew, carry away with her lips until she wiped it with a finger. She gazed proudly on her work, the thumb slick with her spit and a small ring of her cherry-coke colored lipstick at the base. She leaned over to plant a small kiss on the tip, the outline of her lips left in the same color. 


Her heart was pounding in her chest with anticipation, Emilia’s reaction was all she cared about in the world. Not the humiliating lead up, nor the devastatingly embarrassing following act—though Scarlet shivered in delight as she thought of it. Right now, despite every insecurity that threatened her current floating headspace, she only cared that Emilia was as turned on as she was.


Before she was even able to meet her partner’s gaze, Emilia had her hands firmly around Scarlet’s cheeks with soft hands, rewarding her by planting her bright red lips on Scarlet’s. Emilia kissed her, hard, and moved to her cheek, then down her neck, and Scarlet moaned. Scarlet felt Emilia push her back against the bed, One hand pressed on her collarbone, and one knee between her thighs held Emilia above her.


Emilia’s tongue slipped past Scarlet’s lips, tasting the inside of her mouth. Scarlet felt Emilia’s lips leave hers, and she opened her eyes to see Emilia looming over her. The coquette breathed hard, and matched the look of desire her paramour gave. Scarlet felt her arousal only grow stronger as she watched Emilia reach behind her head, tying up her long hair into a messy bun with a confident smirk and eyes locked on Scarlet.


Scarlet had dated women long enough to know what was next.


Like lightning, there was a flash and Emilia had her hands on the skirt of Scarlet’s dress, kneeled above her pale legs and shaking form. Scarlet could only watch with burning anticipation as Emilia lifted the front of the dress, revealing a wet spot had formed on most of Scarlet’s panties, having soaked through to the front of her tights. She felt her face go crimson as she hid behind her hands.


“Looks like someone is excited. All the more reason to get you into your padding.” Emilia darkly chuckled, sending electricity up Scarlet’s spine.


“No hiding, princess,” Emilia’s words had her spellbound, and she felt her face grow hotter, her ears burning.  “Hold your skirt up for mommy. I promise to take good care of you.”


Scarlet’s hands reached down slowly, shaking like leaves in Emilia’s windstorm. She carefully took the edge of her dress, and held it up to her chest. Emilia took the time to look her over, from her sex soaked crotch to her blushing face and wide eyes. Her predatory gaze had returned.


“Good job, baby,” she started, sending more shivers through the previously bold coquette. “You are going to make Mommy so happy.” Emilia hooked the tights with each thumb, and carefully slid them down. “Lift your bottom for me,” she ordered, and Scarlet complied, obedient despite her nerves telling her to run. Emilia left the tights to rest around Scarlet’s mid thigh, holding her legs tightly together. Scarlet wiggled, tentatively trying to free herself, but they restricted her movement with surprising ease.   


“Awww, someone is REALLY excited. I think you might have ruined your cute little panties.” The babydoll pink lingerie was soaked at the crotch. “I like that a lot. You did a good job for me, baby.”


“Really?” Scarlet hadn’t really understood what a praise kink was until now. The flood of serotonin immediately quieted any concerns she had about actually staining her satin panties. She wanted only to hear more, to earn more.


“Yes, Princess.” Emilia smiled, letting her tone go back to that saccharine sweet, patronizing voice of someone talking down to a child.


She loved it. Scarlet let out a small whimper, a mix of embarrassment and pleasure as Emilia traced a finger around the small bulge within the delicately feminine panties, watching it pulse ever so slightly. Emilia hooked one side of the panties with a finger, pulling it aside so that Scarlet’s soft, pink girldick revealed itself, with the tightly manicured bush beneath. It actively pulsed a steady stream of translucent, glimmering precum.


“Adorable,” Emilia chuckled, still in the same demeaning but tender tone.  “Are you ready?”


Scarlet nodded, timidly clutching the fabric to her chest. The combination of the act preparing her for inspection and leaving her subordinate to her paramour, fused with the deliciously patronizing tone of making her feel vulnerable, dependent, and perhaps most embarrassing of all…so much smaller than Emilia.  


She wasn’t given time to prepare her nerves, as Emilia’s bright red lips lowered to kiss Scarlet’s hard member. Or at least, as hard as it could get these days. It was far closer to a clit these days thanks to how high my estrogen is, not much use for penetrating. Not that Scarlet had much interest in topping. There were hollow straps for when the mood struck her with Barba-

Wet lips touched her sensitive member and Scarlet was pulled out of her head, her line of thought. She let out a pathetic whimper, and her pale hand shot to her mouth as Emilia began licking. Her tender flesh was alive with electricity as nerves met Emilia’s hot tongue, and Scarlet felt her back arch as she moaned into her hand. She wasn’t lying, Scarlet thought between building pleasure, heat and increasingly loud moans. She’s doing exactly what I did. That means it’s only going to get better.


The thought terrified and delighted her. She couldn’t help smiling as she arched her back, but apparently Emilia thought that was the wrong reaction. Scarlet could feel Emilia’s ‘tone’ change as she worked hard to bring Scarlet to the edge but not over. Once Scarlet’s back was flat against the soft bed, she looked up to see Emilia’s eyebrows, one arched and the other angled sharply down. Oh no, what did I do?


“M-m-mommy?” She tentatively asked, not meaning to stutter but trying to get ahead of any consequences for her perceived failure, her mysterious breach of contract.


Emilia said nothing, did nothing besides continue to lick. She did look like she was enjoying herself, but somehow so stern at the same time.


It took a moment before she finally spoke. “Simply thinking, little one.” She said, pausing her oral performance and gently rubbing the throbbing member in one hand.

“A-about? Did I do something wrong?” She found it hard to think straight when most of the blood was not going to her brain. Her nipples were hard beneath her top and bra.


“Not quite. I’m deciding how long I want to do this before we get to the REAL show.”


Is her resting bitch face THAT scary?


Scarlet’s eyes went wide and before she could respond, Emilia took Scarlet’s whole member inside her mouth, the hot, wet sensation surrounding it, lips wrapped tightly around the base. Scarlet could only watch Emilia’s gorgeous curves bouncing slightly with her head. The same lustful eyes Scarlet once gave now showing through Emilia’s golden gaze, spiced with condescending smugness.


Scarlet felt her eyes roll back as pleasure built. Out of habit she tried to bring her knees together, merely bouncing off Emilia’s hips for a moment, and she moaned louder than before. It didn’t take long for Emilia to reach The Sprint, and Scarlet swore she wouldn’t last half as long as her own little performance did. But as the heat built in her loins, her pleasure slowly built towards climax, her voice getting higher and louder as her ecstasy brought further moans…it stopped.   


Emilia was staring at her with a devilish grin, worse than any of the confident smirks Scarlet had seen so far. She whined, truly frustrated, sounding much more like a spoiled child than she intended. She hid her face again, letting the skirt drop against her chest and whimpering.

“What’s the matter, precious thing?” Emilia was laying it on thick now, voice all poisoned honey. “You can tell Mommy what’s wrong.” The sadistic smile was still on her face, as she reached down to slowly circle the head of Scarlet’s girldick. It also had a lipstick ring at the base, just like Emilia’s thumb.


When Scarlet could only whine in embarrassment, feeling her ears burn further, Emilia showed her displeasure and growing impatience.

“Mommy asked you a question, dear.” Emilia’s grin dropped slightly, taking her terse, stern visage from work and bringing it into the bedroom. “She expects an answer. Promptly, and in baby talk.”


Scarlet’s face went white, mortified at what she was ordered to do. She took a breath, panicked, and searched for the right words and the right way to twist them.


“I was weally close to finishing, okay!” Scarlet finally confessed after a moment of red faced frustrations. “I have a hawd time… making cummies fwom getting head normally! And you did that SO EASILY and…and HOW did you get me that close so easily?” She blurted out the additional context, desperately hoping it would somehow make Emilia take pity on her for her troubles. Scarlet wasn’t lying, stimulating her that was rarely enough to make her finish.


“Hm.” Emilia’s face already told Scarlet what she feared. “Shame that doesn’t count as your edge.” 



“Pardon me? Is that anyway for a good little girl to speak to her mommy?” Emilia leaned in, kissing the head of Scarlet’s girldick gently, and Scarlet watched as Emilia left a twin lipstick mark to the one on her thumb.


“I told you back at Sharkie’s, remember? You had to beg to cum after being put in a diaper. You also owe me a very long spanking first.” Emilia giggled to herself darkly, the same hand with the lipstick marks covering her mouth as she rose to her feet. “Must be hard to remember anything with no blood in your head, huh baby?”


Scarlet groaned in frustration, her pleasure falling but arousal, somehow increasing. She was liking this treatment, but every cell in her body screamed at her to finish first.


“Now,” Emilia resumed, “how about get you out of these big girl panties? Judging by those stains, you clearly were not ready to be out of diapers yet.” Emilia bent at the waist, showing off more of her curves as she drew Scarlet’s panties down, past her hips. Scarlet lifted again, this time without being commanded, to allow them past her cheeks.

“Good job, Scarlet!” Emilia’s voice dripped with lust despite being full of belittling praise. “Saving Mommy the trouble of asking.” Emilia’s hands took the panties and tights all the way down, sliding them off gently and letting them fall to the floor.


Scarlet’s face burned with a delicious mix of arousal and humiliation, and she was desperate for more. But when Emilia lifted the megamax from its resting spot on the bed, the hot pounding in her chest, spreading her arousal took a sharp pause at the sight of the diaper. How could the ridiculous plastic garment feel half as good as Emilia’s mouth had just moments prior?


Emilia’s hands moved painfully slowly for Scarlet, unfolding the crinkling underwear becoming its own form of torture for the blushing woman. When its full hourglass shape was revealed, she didn’t move to place it under Scarlet, instead, sitting on the edge of the bed. She placed it open on her lap, and patted the plush material with one hand. The padding made soft noises as Emilia beckoned her.


“I need you here, over my lap. Do not make me ask twice, bunny.”

Scarlet blushed harder at the pet name, now deciding that she liked it just as much as princess and good girl.


Scarlet sat up, self conscious of her dangling erection, and moved to all fours. She crawled, arms shaking from her medication, her nerves, supporting her weight, and her humiliation. Emilia knew exactly what she was doing to her.

Emilia used both hands, one on each hip, to firmly but gently guide Scarlet. She winced for a moment as her sensitive girldick made contact with the soft disposable. Every small movement would make her erection thrust into the padding. The feeling was FAR better than it had any right to be, but Scarlet’s face burned so hot with shame. She was over another woman’s knee like a toddler, even lying on top of a diaper like one, caught between lust and infantilizing humiliation..

“Perfect. Now we have something to catch your little ‘accidents’. Does it feel soft on your precious girldick?”


Scarlet could not see Emilia, but she knew the look she was giving the back of Scarlet’s head, that same devilish smirk, lavishing humiliation onto her helpless prey. Scarlet also knew that Emilia could tell how hot and red her cheeks were at the treatment. Emilia knew, for a matter of fact, that Scarlet was enjoying it.


“Answer me.” Her voice was cold, a hand shooting to Scarlet’s hair and gripping it tightly.

“Yes, Mommy!” She whined, sudden pleasure at the even more sudden tightness on her scalp overriding her embarrassment momentarily.

“‘Yes, Mommy’ what?” Her tone was a frigid wind that made goosebumps rise on the back of Scarlet’s now exposed neck.


“Y-yes, Mommy,” she stuttered, trying to buy time to desperately search for what Emilia wanted. “Yes, Mommy, it feels soft on my girldick!” Her face burned hotter than she thought possible.


“Good. You will need something soft on that bottom after I’m done with your spanking.”


A chill ran down her spine at the threat.

“Listen closely. You will count, outloud, each spank and end each number with ‘Mommy’, do you understand?”

Fear spread on Scarlet’s face. “Um…no, Mommy, I don’t. Like ‘one, Mommy’ then ‘two, Mommy’?”


“Exactly. I knew you could get it, such a clever baby.”


The praise, no matter how patronizing and backhanded, still filled Scarlet’s chest with butterflies.


“Are you ready to begin?”


Scarlet swallowed hard.


“I think so.”


“No ‘maybes’, you either are ready or you are not. Take a moment if you need.”


Scarlet was taken aback by the consideration, Emilia’s patronizing somehow giving the impression that she had no say in when things began. She jumped a little, feeling a hand on the small of her back, but it was only Emilia adjusting Scarlet’s dress. She felt her gently tug the back of the skirt up to the small of her back to match the front still under her chest and draping over Emilia’s knee. Emilia’s hand then came to rest on her back, gently rubbing circles around the top of her cheeks and her shoulderblades.


Soothing as it was, Scarlet had no time to be distracted. She wanted this part over with whether she ended up enjoying or regretting it. She breathed deeply, trying to relax her body. She moved from her neck to her feet, easing the tension in her jaw, shoulders, and back. Emilia continued to rub her back, tenderly accelerating the process.


This…this is so affectionate and considerate and kind…I could get used to this.


“Okay.” It hung in the air for a second, and Scarlet finished it off, “Mommy.”


“Good job. I did not have to remind you. I’ll have you crying in no time, just like your video.”


“I don’t cry.”


Scarlet felt her mouth twitch into a small grin, then quickly drop in fear as Emilia’s hand pressed into her skin, slowly drifting to her butt. It gripped one cheek tightly, causing Scarlet to let out a whimper in pleasure.


“I am about to begin. Remember to count, or I start over, understand?”


“Yes, Mommy.” She was ready as she could possibly be.


“Good. If you forget it, that is the same as losing count.” There was no moment of hesitation. The first spank came fast, and hard.


The stinging clap surprised Scarlet, who let out a yelp of pain and shock before remembering her orders.

“One, M-Mommy!” She tensed, unsure if she had counted quick enough. She marveled at how good the sting felt in the moments between spanks, and how the thrust of her member against the diaper beneath her increased her enjoyment. The question of if she had answered in a timely fashion was answered by another stinging slap to her ass.


“Two, Mommy!”


Emilia giggled to herself, Scarlet turning her head to look at the woman tormenting her bottom. The same sadistic grin was plastered across Emilia’s face, and it sent a chill up Scarlet’s spine. The sting wasn’t too bad yet, merely surprising, and Emilia clearly knew.


*SMACK* “Three, Mommy!”

*SMACK SMACK* “Four Five, Mommy!” They were coming faster. They were certainly coming harder than before. Scarlet was remiss to admit she enjoyed the thrusting each spank encouraged into the diaper. She reflexively kicked and bucked at the quick instances of pain but as she began counting ‘twenty, Mommy’, she was almost…disappointed?


She had seen images and videos of women sobbing and flailing in pain, desperate to get away from their dominant torturer. Now she was on ‘thirty, Mommy’, and was in some pain, sure. But she was more humiliated than anything. This was compounded by the fact that she realized part of her WANTED that catharsis of tears and pain. Surely, that was a ridiculous thing to want? How would Emilia find her sexy if she was sobbing, makeup strewn and wailing like a toddler. The thought made her sensitive member throb against the padding. 


“Forty, Mommy!” Scarlet cried out, trying not to give away her realization. She hissed in pain before letting out a contented sigh, feeling sharp nails slowly drag across her reddened bottom.


“How are we doing, Princess?” Emilia was kind in her words but the pet name was accusatory, a challenge. Emilia was telling her surely you’re already done. You can’t handle what I’m really capable of.


Scarlet was unsure of how to answer for a moment, not wanting to invite more pain, yet wanting to impress the sadistic woman who held her over her knees.


“G-good, Mommy. I like it.” She finally settled on, trying to split the difference.


“Still green, my little princess?”


She nodded affirmative, stinging bottom still being lightly scratched in return. Scarlet absentmindedly brought her legs up and swayed. Had she noticed her own movements, she would be reminded of a teenage girl in a sitcom, kicking her feet as she tied up the phone line. Instead, only Emilia saw the precious sight.


“Someone is a little masochist. I have to say, I am impressed. You have a much higher pain tolerance than I expected.”


The praise warmed Scarlet’s chest again, still throbbing slightly in her crotch.


“Thank you. Did you really think I would be a wimp?” She smirked confidently, looking over her shoulder to her tormentor.


“I have been quite lax on the baby talk, since you were just counting. Try again.” Emilia matched Scarlet’s smirk.


Scarlet felt her face go red, any sense of matching her date blow for blow lost.


“Did yoo…weally think I wasn’t tuff?” She finally settled on what she hoped would be just enough to satisfy Emilia, and spare her burning cheeks.


“Just the impression I got from you. You seem like the type that wanted to scream and cry and kick but here you are. Just a kitten in my lap as Mommy scratches your red little butt.” Emilia gave one of Scarlet’s cheeks a quick squeeze, causing the submissive to squeal and giggle.


“Shall we finish? I will go a bit harder here at the end but nothing crazy for your first.” Emilia returned to dragging her manicured nails across Scarlet’s bottom.

She really does know what she’s doing.


“Yes, Mommy. Do I keep counting?” Scarlet turned her face away, resting her head in her hands on the edge of the bed.


“From Forty-one, yes.”


The nails left Scarlet’s bottom, Emilia clearly winding up for another spank. The anticipation hurt more than the eventual *SMACK*


“Forty-one, Mommy!” Scarlet was stunned for a moment by the impact, harder than before.  The contrast generated by allowing her stinging butt to cool for a moment had made these new hits much more severe. 


*SMACK* “Forty-two, Mommy!”
*SMACK* “Forty-three, Mommy!”

*SMACK* “Forty-four, Mommy!”

*SMACK* “Forty-five, Mommy!”


The pattern was becoming clear, Emilia was giving three spanks on one cheek and then the other, building in intensity drastically. Scarlet’s backside blistered with heat and pain, more intense than anything she was used to.


Scarlet admirably kept count, barely making it in time as the pain increased. Fifty, Fifty-one, Fifty-two.


At “Fifty-eight, Mommy!” She was panting, wincing in pain at Emilia throwing a fake-out, the simple movement of air against her butt renewing the stinging sensation. She could not cry, but she was much closer to thrashing than she was before.


“What’s the matter? Can my bunny not take the heat?” Emilia resumed the delicate scratching, the deep green nails dragging sharp sensations up from the depths. “What color, dear? Mommy does not want to write a check tonight.” Her tone again was degrading but with the barest hint of admiration.


Her patronizing only improved Scarlet’s resolve.


“GREEN!” She cried, perhaps a little too eagerly. “Green! I can take more. I said sixty-five, I can take sixty-five.” Her bottom burned in pain, her face and ears burned in humiliation, but in her chest, there was the defiant fire. “I know you’re not hitting as hard as you can.”

This defiant fire smoldered, refused to let herself be a pushover; whether for her parents, or her friends, or her coworkers, or for Emilia, or for Barb-

*SMACK* “Fifty-nine!” She balled her fists tight, the pain pushing her to run, but she held tight for the follow up…that didn’t come. Scarlet realized her mistake.

“Mommy! Fifty-nine, Mommy!”


There was another tense pause. Scarlet knew she messed up.


“I will not be so forgiving next time.” Emilia’s voice sent chills down Scarlet’s spine again, shivering in the wind despite the heat emanating from her ass.


“Six more. Can you do it? For me, princess?” Emilia’s tone was full of smug self-satisfaction, she knew she was driving Scarlet to the brink. Emilia knew she had already won.

“Yes, Mommy.” Scarlet seethed, the pain and pleasure building as she absently began grinding into the padding and Emilia’s lap.


*SMACK* “SIXTY, MOMMY!” The swings came hard and fast, like Emilia was trying to break the bones in her hand. Scarlet cried out with each hit, white knuckling the sheets beneath Emilia.

*smack* “Sixty-two, Mommy!”


*Smack* “Sixty-three, Mommy!”


*SMACK* “Sixty-four, Mommy.”


*SMACK!* “sixty-five, mommy.” She had done it. Her voice was hoarse, her backside burned, she thought she may have even ripped holes in Emilia’s sheets. But she survived.


Scarlet felt her body being moved, scooped up in Emilia’s arms, before she had time to so much as exhale. She found herself straddling Emilia’s lap, arms wrapped tightly around her and soothing whispers in her ear.

“You did it, honey. Just breathe now. We can take a break. Just breathe.” It could have been an order, and Scarlet may have even preferred it. She was still in a floating headspace, humiliated, swimming in endorphins, and reveling in the tender touch of the woman who had been the mastermind of the previous two.


Emilia rubbed circles on her back, and Scarlet started matching her breaths. Emilia’s other hand went back to gently scratching her stinging bottom, and Scarlet couldn’t help but let out another content, ragged sigh.


“Such a good girl. I am quite proud, Scarlet.”


“Yeah? I did good?” Scarlet’s eyes were half closed, she slurred her words. She’d never felt this good in her life. She hugged Emilia tight.


“You really did, bunny. You did so good for me. Good girl.”


They sat there in that embrace, Emilia holding Scarlet tight and Scarlet slowly letting her adrenaline fall, her breath even out, for god knows how long. Scarlet felt like she was unanchored from tactile reality, floating away from her humiliation, pain, discomfort. She was in heaven.


“How are you feeling dear? I could tell that was your first.” Emilia squeezed Scarlet again after not too long, before leaning back to look the spankee in the eyes.


“I…I’m good.” Her voice was shaky, still coming back to her body.  “That…was really good.”


“It looked like it felt good.” Emilia brought a hand up, patting Scarlet’s cheek.

That brought her the rest of the way. That same belittling. The Emilia she knew.

“Do I…Do I need to do anything else before we…keep going?” Scarlet’s throat was scratchy, dried out from her scream-counting. But she was proud she hadn’t cried.


“It sounds like you need some water. Go ahead and sit on the bed, dear.” Emilia gently shifted Scarlet from her lap to the downy comforter, somehow STILL not soft enough for Scarlet’s stinging bottom. Emilia grabbed a cool glass from her nightstand. Scarlet drank deeply, the cool crisp water refreshed her.



“Are you ready? I am going to undress you once you are.”


Scarlet nodded, the eagerness betrayed in her speed. She had a nagging doubt as to why she needed to be undressed.


“Good. Arms up.” Emilia ordered, sitting down behind Scarlet to begin unzipping her dress.

Scarlet complied, arms rising overhead as the dress began peeling away from her. Her skin was slick with sweat she didn’t know had been collecting. It wasn’t entirely dissimilar to lovers undressing each other, until-


“Good girl. Mommy’s got you.” Emilia began tugging at the sleeves of the dress, and Scarlet felt herself melt at the dominant woman’s touch.


Next came her bra, the matching pink satin to her discarded panties.


“So cute. You thought you were a big girl?” Emilia unsnapped the bra and pulled it free.


“Y-yes, Mommy.” She whimpered as the bra fell to the bed, then was tossed into a pile with her dress and underwear. She was exposed, naked in front of her boss, the woman who had just beat her butt.


“Well that cannot be, right? No big girls sharing my bed with me. I just see a nakey baby.”


Scarlet cringed to herself, hating how much the phrase cemented her enjoyment of the treatment. She felt Emilia’s hands reach for her shoulders, and her body being gently guided backwards, until she was on her back. Emilia reached for the open diaper, left at the edge of the bed momentarily with a small dark stain of Scarlet’s making. Emilia smiled down at her, that same poisoned honey grin.


The crinkling diaper was brought over into Scarlet’s view, and Emilia fluffed it thoroughly. The plain white padding crinkled loudly and grew thicker before Scarlet’s eyes as she watched in amazement. Emilia gave her a tap on the hip, making Scarlet lift her bottom off the bed, so she could slide the diaper beneath her date. Emilia took a moment to look at her ass, confusing Scarlet before she was gently pushed back to the bed. Admiring her handiwork, it finally occurred to her. 


“There we go, babygirl. Is it nice and soft on your sore little butt?” Emilia’s smirk of satisfaction had returned, belittling Scarlet who blushed in response.

She wasn’t wrong. It did extremely well to cushion and comfort her stinging bottom. But that didn’t mean she wanted to be in a diaper, imagining orgasm being even more difficult than before. Emilia got to task bringing the front up between her legs, making Scarlet’s heart race. She was going to be trapped inside that thing for god knows how long, and she feared the barrier between her and her private parts.


The crinkling plastic came up between Scarlet’s legs, gently folding up to her stomach, rising high to her belly button. Her sensitive member, still vaguely aroused, was enclosed inside, sealed tight with each tape. While it was soft and tenderly held the twitching girldick, it was now almost for her own pleasure as it was for Emilia’s. Her heart rate increased further. It felt like a pillow between her legs and she could no longer have her knees touch.


“There we go, baby. All padded up.” Emilia reached down to pat Scarlet’s diapered butt, an embarrassingly intimate sense of calm flowering inside Scarlet’s chest. Emilia gave her no time to languish, as she then groped Scarlet’s covered crotch.


Scarlet let out an involuntary moan, her girldick pressed firmly into the soft padding. The feeling was overwhelming, accentuated by the chorus of crinkles that reminded Scarlet; you’re just a baby. Helpless without Mommy, even for pleasure.


Emilia continued rubbing, evoking memories of being touched through a pair of short shorts on more than one occasion after well received dates. But now, rather than an affirmation that this new paramour found her sexy and wanted to make her feel good….it was that and a nice neat bow of humiliation.


“Does that feel good, pretty baby? Do you wanna make cummies for Mommy?” Emilia’s belittling was somehow exacerbating Scarlet’s arousal.


She hated it. She loved it. She hated that she loved it. She wanted to cum more than anything. She moaned louder as Emilia’s graceful hands met Scarlet’s puffy pink nipples, pinching hard. She kept pinching, kneading her breasts, and rubbing until Scarlet finally answered.


“Yes, pwease, Mommy.” She whined, pathetic puppy dog eyes forming from sincere desperation.


“What a good girl I have here!” She said with faux joy. Rather, she was truly joyful, but not at praising Scarlet. More so joy in making her mewl in pleading whimpers.


“You need to be edged, first. Remember?” Emilia stood back up off the bed, sly smirk and devilish eyes still locked with Scarlet’s. She hated her. She wanted nothing more than to kiss those beautiful dimples and grind against her hand until she came.


Scarlet whined again, and sat back, waiting to puzzle what Emilia was doing. Scarlet’s eyes went wide as she watched Emilia undress. Her jacket was already gone, but she slowly undid her corset, removing her blouse and pants. Her black underwear matched, lacy and made Scarlet’s heart race. These too Emilia slid off, leaving them in a small pile. Scarlet couldn’t help gawk at the beauty of Emilia’s dark, pierced nipples and the supple slit that awaited her under a neat bush.


“You can grind while you work, but you’re going to eat Mommy out,” Emilia began. She sat on the bed, laying back against the headboard and the mountain of deep royal purple pillows. “When you get close, you may ask for permission to make cummies. If you do so without permission, you will not be happy with the outcome.”


Scarlet nodded, shaking in anticipation, for the potential punishment, the permission to grind, and the moment she got to lick Emilia’s precious clit. She crawled to her boss, her tormentor, her domme? She lowered herself between Emilia’s thighs.


“May I begin, Mommy?” Her shaking had worsened, and now that she was lying on her stomach, her crotch was pressed into the pillow wrapped around her middle and further pressed into the bed.


“You may. Keep being my good girl, and you will be rewarded, bunny.” Emilia cupped Scarlet’s face with one hand. Her gold eyes shined in the low moonlight coming through the windows.


Scarlet eagerly set about her work, one hand gently thumbing Emilia’s clit as her tongue began tentatively rising and falling between her folds. Emilia let out a low, satisfied sigh, letting her head roll back to look at the ceiling. Scarlet wanted more than anything to kiss her, or her gorgeous pierced nipples, but settled on kissing her pussy before redoubling her efforts. Her thumb now circling, her tongue now going deeper, she watched, listened, to Emilia’s body responding to her efforts. Scarlet felt Emilia’s shoulders relax, but her thighs tense. It was hitting the spot. She grinded slowly, pressing her body weight into the bed. The only difference between her teenage years discovering masturbation and now was the humiliating tell-tale crinkle of the diaper. She felt her face go red, and told herself it was the heat from Emilia’s wet sex.


Emilia was quickly gripping the headboard, white knuckling as another gently explored Scarlet’s hair. She was sighing and moaning louder now, with the occasional muttered ‘good girl.’ Scarlet kicked her feet in the air happily at the praise, and went deeper, faster, harder, wanting nothing more than to earn more.


It did not take long for the hand in Scarlet’s hair to grip tight. But there was an issue. Emilia was definitely approaching orgasm, but so was Scarlet. She felt herself approaching the edge. She could even finish if she was quick about it and gave a few rapid pumps. Would Emilia be able to tell if she came without permission?


She erred on the side of submission, the thought of confessing somehow even hotter.


“Emi-er, Mommy. Mommy, I’m getting close.” She pleaded, not taking her fingers away from Emilia’s clit.


“Oh? Is there something you want to ask me, little one?” Emilia’s eyebrows rose, but she could not keep her poker face while this aroused. She had no intention of letting Scarlet cum this soon.


“May I make cummies, Mommy?”


“NO.” Her words seemed to echo throughout the luxurious house, crushing Scarlet’s heart even though she already suspected.


“You do not have permission to cum. You will finish me off and then I will make you cum. Understood?”


Emilia’s authoritative words made Scarlet shiver in arousal. She slowed her grinding, nodding affirmatively, and obediently dived back into her task. Had she not been so aroused, she might have remembered she wasn’t going to be punished for breaking rules tonight. Even so, she probably would have obeyed.


Scarlet had plenty of experience eating pussy. Emilia’s hands quickly returned to Scarlet’s hair, white knuckling handfuls, making her wince in pleasure. Emilia moaned, louder each time, rising to match her own climax, until finally Scarlet felt the hot wet orgasm reach her mouth. The sex juices did not disturb her, as she slowed her work to gently let her partner back down from her orgasm.


“You did very well, dear. You are quite full of surprises,” Emilia panted, still flush as she came down from her high point.


Scarlet lifted her head, face still slick with sex and kicking her feet at the praise.


“I’m glad you liked it.” She giggled. Normally after her partner came Scarlet was filled with the pride of an experienced and generous lover, but this was different. She was given a task and purpose, which she fulfilled with excellence. Her face turned red with arousal again.


“And now,” Emilia was still catching her breath. “Now we will take care of you. Grab a towel from that nightstand and open the middle drawer, please?”


Scarlet nodded, crawling over to the far side of the bed, crinkling with each movement as she grabbed the dark towel atop it. She tried to suppress her embarrassed blush at the infantile noises and draped the towel over one shoulder and then pulled the middle drawer.


It was the largest cordless vibrator she had ever seen. Her heart pounded with excitement. 


“I can tell you found it. Bring it here as well.” Emilia ordered.


Scarlet, still shaking with anticipation and face red with arousal, grabbed the monster sex toy and slid back over to Emilia. The dominant woman took both the towel and the vibrator, and began gently wiping Scarlet’s face to clean the juices from it. Not without a quick kiss however, where Scarlet was certain Emilia tasted herself.


Once she was done, Emilia pointed to the spot between her legs again.


“Kneel,” she gave a bright smile with the order. “You can thrust into it,  but I am in control. You must still ask permission, in baby talk. Understand?”


Scarlet hesitated, overwhelmed for the moment. She had been horny for hours now. Lesbian sex lasted a long time, sure, but with the foreplay on their date at Sharkie’s, the ride back where Emilia kept petting Scarlet’s thigh, the kiss in her office and everything that had transpired in the bedroom? Scarlet was ready to burst.


She nodded. “Y-yes, Mommy. I have to ask pewmission,” she stumbled through the baby babble.


“Good.” Emilia took a hand, lightly petting the back of Scarlet’s head. “You are so close dear. Do not fail me in the final sprint.” Her eyes were serious, sincere, like she was pleading with Scarlet. Don’t disappoint me, her golden eyes said.


With a click, the vibrator sprang to life, buzzing loudly, and Emilia lowered it with the gravitas of a guillotine. Scarlet couldn’t help but breathe hard as it neared, until finally, she was microscopically close to making contact. Emilia paused. Scarlet looked up to Emilia in confusion.


She was smiling. She had pulled another trick. Scarlet’s heart stopped.


Emilia pressed the vibrator into Scarlet’s padded crotch, already slick on the inside with precum that had yet to be absorbed. Scarlet’s face was frozen in a moan that refused to leave her throat.


She had no control over her muscles. Every instinct was to try and press herself harder into the buzzing toy. As she tried, Emilia pressed harder as well before gently making the vibrator rise and fall the length of Scarlet’s girldick.


Scarlet couldn’t remember the last time sex felt this good. She tightened every muscle she could to try and hold in the pending orgasm.


She finally moaned, loud, loud enough she thought she’d wake the neighbors. Scarlet didn’t care, she thought only of finally earning permission to cum.


With another click, the vibrator stopped. Her eyes hot up to Emilia’s, and just as Scarlet was about to whine pathetically, Emilia clicked it again. This time the buzzing was louder, faster, harder, against Scarlet’s crotch.


Scarlet’s legs locked, shaking hard in pleasure, she almost collapsed into Emilia’s arms, instead wrapping her hands behind Emilia’s neck for support. Emilia laughed like Scarlet had told a joke.


“Goooood girl! Are you getting close? Do you want to make cummies for Mommy?” Emilia’s voice gave the faux pity of a Teacher comforting a child with a skinned knee.


Scarlet had never been more turned on.


“YES! Yes,” she began, the shaking extending to her voice. “Pwease, Mommy. Pwease! Pwease can I make cummies?” Scarlet closed her eyes, and began thrusting into the vibrator, her diaper humming and crinkling as she did.


“Hmmmmm.” Scarlet could feel Emilia shift, moving, but couldn’t open her eyes. She couldn’t take Emilia’s patronizing gaze.


“I think you have earned it. Go ahead, pretty girl. Let your princess parts make all the cummies they can. Fill that diaper up for Mommy.”


Scarlet couldn’t have held back even if she wanted to. The tone, the ridiculous cutesy names, it was too much. Scarlet leaned back, finally releasing the tight muscles in her core, finally allowed to reach her own climax. Her face was hot, her body quivering and covered in sweat. Humiliation ran down to her core, being turned on by belittling baby talk and cumming in a diaper. She didn’t care. She came, hard. Eyes rolled back, a screaming moan escaping her mouth, high and sweet. She shot her hot load into her padding.


After a moment, a quiet *click*


Scarlet opened her eyes in a flash, finally coming down. Her pulse was pounding, her cum only just now finished pumping into her diaper.


Emilia was sitting there, bright eyed, dimples in full bloom as she gave a triumphant, full smile. She had all her predator’s teeth on display as she spun her phone around in her hand for Scarlet to see. 


Scarlet saw a picture of herself. Her back was arched like she was making porn, her face was flush, nipples pointy, and an obvious tent in her obvious diaper up against the vibrator.


A little photoshoot tonight. My own private scrapbook of the night ahead, so I can always remember it.


Scarlet felt the hot humiliation fill her, her face somehow getting hotter and redder. She couldn’t help but smile. She covered her face, an embarrassed smile obvious. Another *click*


Scarlet laughed, diving into Emilia’s soft chest to hide, and she felt Emilia shift again. She dared to peek a singular eye up and out, still smiling in embarrassment. Emilia took one final picture, a horizontal selfie of the two of them. Scarlet’s smile was obvious, her diaper as well. It was cute.


Emilia whispered, giggling down to Scarlet as she set her phone down. “You did it, Scarlet. You did it all. I am so proud of my good girl.” She kissed Scarlet on the lips, bringing back the smell of Emilia’s sex for both women. The kiss was both a passionate expression of arousal as well as pride in Scarlet. When Scarlet was released, Emilia guided her head to rest on her lover’s chest.


Scarlet looked up to Emilia, the proud woman began petting Scarlet’s hair, soothing her, despite her racing heart.


“I did good?”


“You did well,” she teasingly admonished. “And yes, you did very well. Such a good girl for Mommy.” Emilia squeezed her, making her feel tinier than she ever had in her six foot frame.


“Thank you, Mommy.” Scarlet slowly felt the adrenaline leave her system. Emilia continued petting her, and once the pair had calmed; naked, save for Scarlet’s diaper, limbs intertwined, and extremely satisfied emotionally and physically, Emilia brought the comforter up and over them.


“Sleep tight, princess. You earned it.” Emilia kissed the top of her head.


Scarlet slept better that night than she had in over a year. Like a baby.

  • Like 4
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  • ezithemuse changed the title to Cupid's Punk! UPDATED 12/15, Chapter 7-HAPPY SLOWBURN PAYOFF DAY
12 hours ago, YourFNF said:




VERY glad you're enjoying it. I really like getting feedback as I go! I'm already hard at work on chapter 8, but it might get delayed because of the holiday. Hope youre doing well!

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  • ezithemuse changed the title to Cupid's Punk UPDATED 3/01 chapter 16- a woman that wants you

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