Cupid's Punk UPDATED 3/01 chapter 16- a woman that wants you

[YourFNF]

9 hours ago, ezithemuse 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!

Okay'sh and no need rush this time of year can be a lot. ?

[ezithemuse]

hope everyone who celebrates had a great holiday! And since I won't see you before then, have a Happy New Year!


8- The beautiful american word

 

“Do you like anything other people hate on?” Scarlet’s eyes were bright, rested for once in her life, despite the makeup from last night starting to get uncomfortably stale. She was lying on her stomach, still in Emilia’s bed and her naked body delicately wrapped in the thin cover sheet beneath the comforter.

 

“Excuse me?” Emilia was likewise naked, sitting up against the headboard of her massive bed. She had been checking her calendar and silencing future alarms after her usual 7:00 AM ringing awoke the snoozing lovers. Scarlet felt bad for Emilia, watching as she winced at the noises of the street, and drank deeply from her water.

 

“Not, like, weird stuff, more how everyone acts like pineapple on pizza is evil? Do you like things people usually dunk on?”

 

Emilia looked back at the younger woman, an eyebrow rising in confusion, then eyes focusing on finding an answer. Scarlet had developed—depending on which of her lovers you asked—a strange habit of asking interview style questions the morning after, so long as her brain was rested enough to conjure one. Emilia seemed to be entertaining her bed guest’s request.

 

“My clientele and colleagues act like they are above eating McDonald’s because of how much they pay me. I  could not care less how nice a suit I am wearing. If I get a craving I will ravish a Big Mac. How about you, baby?” Emilia set the phone aside, stretching slowly, the shoulder Scarlet rested on last night popping softly.

 

Scarlet felt her ears warm and a shy smile grow on her face.

 

“I’m a slut for a really soft raisin oatmeal cookie,” she admitted, feet kicking softly behind her as they slid free of the sheets.”It’s underappreciated. Just cause it’s not chocolate doesn’t mean it’s bad.”

 

“I should start calling you ‘Cookie’, then. Are you Mommy’s Cookie?” Emilia leaned in to tap Scarlet’s nose, the tip of her finger emphasizing the last syllables and simultaneously cutting off an incoming rant. Emilia’s smile was less threatening, less sinister in the early morning sunshine. Instead, her eyes flickered as her head moved in and out of a shadow from the bay windows in Emilia’s bedroom. They always managed to find the light in the end.

Scarlet was thoroughly entranced. Her mind found a cheeky response when it stopped gushing.

 

“Tough Cookie,” she finally responded. “Big girl.” Scarlet’s cheeks ballooned in a mock pout. She certainly didn’t feel like a ‘big girl’ with the crinkling diaper still around her waist, the memories of last night fresh in her mind. When she woke that morning and could remember their passionate evening together, she thanked whatever goddess would listen that she hadn’t blacked that out.

 

“Ooooh, I am sure you think you are,” Emilia teased, letting the sheet fall off from her waist as she stood. “But whether you are or not we should probably clean up. My pores are furious with me.”

 

Emilia stretched again, bending at the hips before guiding Scarlet to the edge of the bed. She offered no resistance, smiling still at the playful, less domineering tone of the morning. The diaper Emilia had tightly wrapped around Scarlet was disheveled, no longer pristine like she had remembered. A night of sex, sweat, and gentle movements in her sleep had left the infantile garment a wrinkled, pathetic sight. Emilia made no mention of the state of Scarlet’s underwear as the submissive reached the edge of the bed, only gently pushing her onto her back.
 

The motion echoed Emilia’s firm physical guidance from the night before. Scarlet’s face gave a shy smile.

“Uh, not that I’m not interested…” Scarlet giggled nervously.

“Oh, I am quite interested too. But we should get you cleaned up here and changed first, right?” Emilia’s tone was matter of fact, like she was explaining the sky was blue.

 

“You’re going to change me?” The younger woman squirmed with a new kind of nervousness as Emilia’s hands reached for the tapes on the front of the crinkling plastic. “I didn’t use it!”

“I was assuming you wanted to use the potty and shower before we did anything else.” Emilia coyly retorted. She gave another patented Emilia smirk, brushing the platinum streak behind one ear.  “I do not think my drains would appreciate you wearing this into the shower. If you behave, we can have a bit more Mommy and Baby time.” Her voice was sweet, a wink and a dimpled smile making Scarlet flush momentarily. Strong hands undid the diaper tapes and let the sad disposable limply hang off the edge of the bed.

Scarlet’s face went flush. “Sure.” She wasn’t mad, necessarily, more disappointed Emilia had laid another verbal snare. And like last night, Scarlet had sprung it, a flailing and panicking animal. Now she was also exposed physically, the lingering scent of sex and obvious stains on the inside of the diaper visible to both women.
 

Scarlet’s nervousness had given her excitement away, but even she knew she could use a fresh face of makeup and to rinse the sleep out of her eyes and frizzing hair.

Emilia helped Scarlet stand, taking both her hands. Emilia’s skin was cool, soft, and refreshing after a night of sweating.

 

“Use whatever you like in the shower, and ask if anything looks confusing to operate. I can bring you something clean to wear if you want your dress washed and dried?” Emilia balled up Scarlet’s old diaper, rolling it tightly and tossing it in a large trash can in said master bath.

 

“Please and thank you.” Scarlet tried to smile, but felt her red face was on display for everyone to see. She hadn’t been expecting their game to continue into the morning. Come to think of it, she hadn’t devoted a single brain cell to the morning after their date, too enthralled in the moment to moment, until she had no blood left in her brain.

 

Emilia smiled, blowing a kiss and sitting on the bed where Scarlet had been. Her phone buzzed the recognizable tone of work email, and Scarlet went off on her own.

 

Scarlet nervously approached the master bathroom. Her first stop was the bizarre-looking toilet, a high tech combination of sleek and intimidating. She was grateful she hadn’t needed to pee, such things had been incidentally forgotten on their date until Scarlet was diapered. She relaxed, letting out a long night’s worth of tension from her bladder, unable to stop herself from sighing loudly in relief. Scarlet abandoned trying to puzzle out the buttons and lights that looked like they belonged in a cockpit, depressing the flusher the old fashioned way.

 

She approached the glass walled shower, eyes lingering on a nearby jacuzzi tub and the shining fixtures. Carefully, she grabbed a nearby towel, hanging it within reach of the doors, and entered. She was certain that she would somehow break the water fixtures as she tried navigating them, knowing they were easily more expensive than some of the apartments she had grown up in.

 

Finally, the hot water rained down, warming Scarlet’s stiff joints and sleepy muscles. She found a heated mirror inside the shower, and used it to ensure her makeup was completely washed away, scrubbing herself clean with a found loofah and body wash that smelled of lavender. She hesitated when she looked down to her crotch, her member still showing the ring and dainty kiss of Emilia’s bright red lipstick. Scarlet smiled, wishing a gentle goodbye to the love-mark.

 

LOVE marks? Easy there, she reminded herself. This lady doesn’t know you. Just because it was good sex…OKAY, it was GREAT sex, doesn’t mean she’s incapable of being shitty to you. Scarlet scrubbed herself as she pondered, trying to balance reality and anxiety with post-coital fantasies. ‘More Mommy and Baby time’, huh?

 

Scarlet shook her head, denying the flutter of happiness in her stomach. She knew deep down that the prospect of more teasing and babying could be fun, hell, probably sexy, too. But what happens when I’m ready to be done? Will I disappoint her if I ever just want to watch TV and drink bad wine? She shook her head again, wet hair splaying in the shower. She tried to let the doubt wash down her back with the water.

 

You can easily over do this, just as she can easily be shitty and you just don’t know yet. Stay cool, stay in control of yourself. That’s all you can do.

After she was thoroughly clean and smelling good, she stepped out of the shower to towel herself off, missing the special towels she had for her hair at home. At least Emilia’s towels proved to be remarkably fluffy and soft, and for once in her life, tall enough for Scarlet’s frame.

 

I guess that’s the benefit of finally fucking someone taller than me, she giggled to herself before wrapping the soft material tightly around her body. Her hair was wrapped likewise, and she returned to the bedroom once she was sure she wasn’t dripping.

 

Emilia had moved, but not by much. Her purse had appeared on the nightstand, and she had a robe and underwear laid out for herself. Scarlet more urgently noticed a long, thin t-shirt bearing the crest of Emilia’s alma mater was lying on the bed, and the packages of diapers were now neatly placed at the foot. Scarlet’s clothes from the previous night, left in a sweaty, sex-scented pile, were now missing. Scarlet scanned the bed, hoping for underwear to go with the t-shirt.

 

No such luck. Her choices were going commando in her date’s home while waiting on laundry, or…she eyed the packages nervously. Emilia looked up from her phone, hearing Scarlet’s anxious swallow.

 

“Find everything okay?” Emilia’s bright eyes scanned the younger woman’s wet body, and Scarlet blushed, feeling her boss trying to see beneath the towels.

“Um, yeah,” Scarlet dumbly replied. “Listen, I-”

“The laundry started just a moment after you got in the shower, should be done in about two hours,” Emilia cut her off. “In the meantime…I think you would look adorable in this.” 

 

Scarlet’s eyes followed Emilia’s hands as they lifted the shirt, draping it in front of Scarlet’s body. It was long enough to come just down to her thighs, if she was lucky. Whether her crotch was entirely covered, she was unsure.

 

“Do you want me to dress you?”

The question made her jump. Scarlet cursed her short sightedness, unsure of how to say she wanted to be done with the game for now. She wanted to be seen as an equal in most respects, if not outside of the bedroom. How would she respect her if she was being treated like that?

“Scarlet? Have something on your mind?” The question was sincere, not judgemental, and Emilia’s face softened to match. Actual honey, no lingering aftertaste of poison.

“I’m…” she still hadn’t found the words. The feelings made so much more sense than their logic. “I think I can do it myself. Are you sure there aren’t some shorts I could borrow? Some panties I can wash and return?”

She offered a way out, hoping Emilia would sense the discomfort. The words hung in the air.

“Well, we should talk about that. I was hoping you would stay. I do not think I have the energy or preparation for all of Saturday to be like last night,” Emilia crossed her legs, shoulders going back. Somehow she felt more together and more in command despite being more naked than the secretary.  “But I would like to spend more time together. I want to learn about each other. And, if you would indulge me,” Emilia’s sultry tone lingered on the word, bouncing straight to the part of Scarlet’s brain that made her want to do such depraved things as the night before, “I would like for you to be in another diaper.”

Scarlet considered for a moment, remembering her promise in the shower to herself. But what harm could come from playing a little more? She merely nodded, approaching the bed, and taking the shirt with one hand.

“But I can do this part myself,” she replied, trying to bring back her mask.

 

“Aww, I thought you wanted a bit more Mommy time?” Emilia’s lips twisted to a mock frown, her bright eyes barely hiding the laughter building inside her. It was another little verbal trap.

And Scarlet was going to find herself pinned and prey.

Emilia accepted the towel from around Scarlet’s body in one hand. Scarlet could see Emilia taking in the sights of her body as she pulled the long top over her head, the fabric dangling in the right places to make her feel small. It reminded her of the night shirts she adored in her own closet, a big fan of sleeping in big shirts with no pants.

She met Emilia’s gaze, who flicked gold eyes down to her half-covered member. Scarlet looked away as a blush grew from being ogled. It felt nice to be viewed that way, but in the safety of this room where only the two of them could see it.

 

“Now, lie down,” Emilia smiled, gently laying out the towel for Scarlet and standing up, “and then, I need you to pick which you want to wear again.”

Scarlet complied, a simple enough scenario to submit and enjoy without being overt. That is, until she saw the new snare Emilia had laid. She was only holding the sampler pack, a smattering of different infantile prints more at home on a pack of Huggies than something an adult would wear.

Am I one of those adults now? That wears something like that?

 

The thought made her freeze, her wet body shivering as it felt like her brain was submerged. She made no movement other than wide eyed panic. Emilia was already scanning her response as part of the game, but her face relaxed further, attempting to comfort her.

 

“Scarlet? Can you pick one you like?” Emilia’s tone was soft, undemanding. She was asking a child to pick what they would wear for the day, and that terrified the younger woman.

 

Scarlet struggled to analyze her feelings, a paralysis locking her limbs. Last night, she barely managed to stand the humiliation of a plain diaper. How exactly was she going to manage further babying, with no safety net of planning to boot. Scarlet’s mind raced, filled with a crashing, dropping sensation, arousal and excitement turning sour.

When she didn’t speak, Emilia looked her in the eye, asking softly, “Scarlet? Scarlet, honey. Can you answer me?”

It took her a moment, but she shook her head, lip quivering with nerves. So much for playing cool was all that went through her head, logic overridden.

 

“What are you thinking about, Cookie?” The nickname snapped Scarlet’s disassociation. She became aware that Emilia's hand gently rubbed one of her thighs. It had the tenderness of a lover but lacked the underlying intention of sexuality. Scarlet could tell Emilia was pulling away from the game, just as Scarlet’s panic was making her.

 

“I…it’s a lot.” Ever a wordsmith.

 

“Overwhelming?” Emilia suggested. Scarlet could tell she was sincerely helping, but it wasn’t until she set down the bag that she realized she was holding her breath.

 

“A little,” she breathed deeply, looking away for a moment, anxiety still present but reaching manageability. “We didn’t talk about this beforehand, like we did last night.”

“I see,” Emilia nodded. “So what is bothering you is the lack of structure and planning? Predetermined limits?”

 

Scarlet nodded, swallowing before she spoke. “I think so. I loved last night. I just don’t want to get in over my head and disappoint you, I think.”

Or myself. She grimly added from inside her head. I don’t want the severance. I think I want you.

 

“Sure. More than Fair,” Emilia began, nodding in agreement with Scarlet. “So how about we decide on a few things? Maybe make some rules going forward?” Emilia went back to rubbing Scarlet’s thigh. “I am used to playing a little more fast and loose, but if you want specifics, I can give you specifics. Sounds good?”

Scarlet let a small smile crack her exterior, nodding back quietly. “Sure.”

“Good. Now, if you still want a diaper. Can you pick, or would you like me to?”

 

Scarlet considered for a moment, then pointed towards one that caught her eye. An almost subdued, simple green pattern on a plain white diaper, the front featuring brightly colored letters and numbers, like the pattern on a preschool classroom. Simple, childish, but not so much so Scarlet would be a blushing mess. Hopefully.

“Good choice. I can make us pancakes. Legs up, bunny.”

 

***

 

Scarlet was sitting cross legged in front of the mirror in Emilia’s bedroom, the long t-shirt of some Boston law school barely covering the ridiculous diaper she wore while doing a small amount of makeup. Nothing nearly as elaborate as last night, just enough that she wouldn’t feel gross as the day went on. As she finished with her face, she leaned back, eventually settling against the foot of the bed, facing the floor length mirror.

 

Her reflection was surreal, somehow both foreign and exactly right, perfectly her. The crinkling white bulk around her crotch was of course the source, but Scarlet’s thoughts danced between being repulsed and intrigued by the simple thing. She hadn’t seen how she looked in the diaper last night until Emilia’s photo, which made Scarlet blush every time she remembered it. She got the impression she wouldn’t be used to seeing herself in them for a long time.

 

Despite the soft padding, Scarlet’s bottom still stung, bees parading and dancing on her tanned cheeks. She had to shift to her knees, gently propping her diapered butt up with her feet to relieve the pressure. With the movement, Scarlet’s eyes caught evidence of the red marks that spread up and down her cheeks, largely covered by her ridiculous diaper, but also exposing  the back of her marked thighs. 

 

Scarlet couldn’t help but admire the marks, eyes taking in every detail as the red contrasted her pale skin. Remembering last night, Scarlet braced herself, and slowly dragged her nails with the lightest pressure she could manage. Instantly, a sharp but satisfying feeling erupted from her burning skin. She breathed sharply through her nose and sighing with satisfaction, reveling in the new kind of stinging sensation it brought. The burning subsided with gentle pleasure. She studied the marks closer, vaguely seeing the shape of Emilia’s hands

 

Emilia had marked her, and she had to admit she loved having the lingering symbol of dominance on her body. Emilia was an artist. Scarlet and her aching, stinging butt composed the canvas.  
 

The artist in question was in the shower, leaving Scarlet alone. Taking advantage of the solitude, she tentatively reached for her phone. Shaking hands, from nerves and medications, took a picture of the kneeling and underdressed woman. It was not unlike nudes and risque thirst pics she’d taken before, save the diaper.

She looked down at her own crotch to examine the infernal diaper more closely. It was clearly designed by some kind of fetish shop, that much made sense. The design didn’t seem to be anything put on any actual diaper meant for actual infants, but she was no expert. It could pass for such a design, however, and that’s probably more important to most regular participants in the kink. Scarlet cursed her own curiosity making her dwell on the thought of being one of those participants.

She thought back to how different her two diaperings were. Emilia’s humiliating, belittling tone the previous night rang in her ear, reminding her of how menacing someone calling themselves ‘mommy’ could really be. Scarlet reminded herself not to get aroused before any serious discussion of expectations for the day and their relationship. Then she thought back to Emilia’s efforts to comfort her as she froze in nonverbal panic. So tender, affectionate. Her head was still spinning when she heard the shower stop.

Scarlet deleted the photo, embarrassed, and tried to look nonchalant as she cleaned up her makeup back into her bag. Emilia soon came out of the shower, a simple dress and robe around her now dry body, the faintest scent of lavender as she unwrapped her hair. She smiled down at Scarlet, making her fidget nervously.

“Come along, dear,” Emilia started, offering a hand for Scarlet, “how about we get some food in that tummy?”

Scarlet accepted, being led down the hall in nothing but the diaper and the shirt that did little to cover it. She smiled shyly at the sounds her padding made, and took in Emilia’s home in the daylight.

The luxurious home was brighter, cleaner, and more comfortable in the light. Now that the kitchen was no longer the only beacon of light after a long night of drinking, it was even welcoming. Her walls were decorated with beautiful paintings, fantastical sculptures that suggested Emilia’s travels, a smattering of bizarre art objects, and flowers that Scarlet recognized from the garden. Emilia guided her to a breakfast bar and Scarlet sat slowly on a stool, the diaper throwing off her gait and crinkling loudly as she did.

 

“Two questions to start, then we can talk about rules and expectations,” the taller woman sang behind her as she entered her kitchen.

 

Scarlet nervously swallowed, preparing for the first of many serious topics they needed to discuss.

 

 “Firstly, do you have any allergies? Secondly, do you want blueberries or chocolate chips in your pancakes?”

[YourFNF]

Emellia seems like such a wonderful mommy, she handled Scarlet's discomfort expertly.

[ezithemuse]

On 12/30/2022 at 9:59 AM, YourFNF said:

Emellia seems like such a wonderful mommy, she handled Scarlet's discomfort expertly.

she certainly knows how to handle a sub! Experience is hot

[ezithemuse]

9- and I am your valuable.

 

“So, I imagine you have never had sex quite like that before?”

 

Scarlet’s jaw mimicked the question hanging in the air, too stunned to finish putting the chunk of blueberry pancakes in her mouth.

 

“I’m sorry?” She swallowed hard, putting her fork back to the plate before the abundance of syrup dripped.

 

“Sex with a dynamic, or BDSM, or whatever you prefer to call it. I got the impression you had been topped, sure, but never dommed.” Emilia continued cutting her own matching stack of blueberry pancakes without breaking eye contact.

 

Scarlet broke first, glancing down at her half-finished breakfast. She took a nervous sip of coffee trying to delay the inevitable.

 

“You’re not entirely wrong.”

 

“A ‘yes or no’ will do, dear.”

 

“Fine! Yes!” Scarlet hid her face behind one hand, looking away again. She scrambled to deflect somehow. “I’ve never ‘done a BDSM’ as you say. I’ve never hooked up with someone who wanted to be called Mommy.”

 

Emilia didn’t take the bait. Instead, she merely giggled, hand over her mouth, just like the night before. Scarlet couldn’t tell if it was directed at her, or her reaction. Her immediate impulse told her that Emilia was looking down on her. It was the nagging notion in her mind that reminded her how people benefitted from keeping her around to mock her. An eyebrow twitched in frustration, at the idea first, then her own gut for trying to make her go back to that way of thinking. She sighed, and pushed her food around one of Emilia’s nice plates.

 

Something was different in the way she laughed this morning. Her eyes still lit up, her dainty expressions and classical manners were still charming, and she still gave this small sigh of contentment after, like she had to catch her breath. Emilia did everything the same, but Scarlet’s brain wouldn’t stop comparing the two, a certain something missing.

 

Scarlet refocused her mind.

 

“Have you? Well, obviously you have. Can I know how many subs you’ve had?” Scarlet was unsure of the etiquette on such matters, and tried to show as much. Was this the same as some dudebro at a party asking about body counts, too invasive and boorish for polite company?

 

“Many, but none like this,” she simply smiled back at Scarlet, letting the implication wash over her.

 

“None like…?”

 

“With a Little. I’m much more familiar with slaves and pets.”

 

Scarlet gulped. She didn’t know much, but slave and pet sounded ever more intense than ‘Little’. It brought to mind the stereotypical leather gimp. She felt ridiculous in her diaper and oversized shirt. As if confirming her thoughts, Emilia nodded as she sipped and continued.

 

“Yes, it is exactly what you are imagining. I was the dominatrix with the gimps and PVC puppies, the whole nine yards.”

 

“Is it ‘kissing and telling’ if I ask how serious those were?”

 

“Quite serious. As in ‘they let me tattoo them,’ serious.”

 

Scarlet’s eyes went wide. “That’s a thing?”

 

“For some. It has the same level of foreboding bad luck that getting your partner’s name tattooed on you does. For the record, it was her idea. Big ownership kink, her.”

 

“Well now I feel kinda silly.” Scarlet gestured down to her body, further self-conscious by comparison to Emilia’s tattooed ex.

 

“Why is that?” Emilia looked confused.

 

“Because my canvas is full already, no more room!”

 

Comedy was the shield of insecurity, and nothing killed that anxiety for Scarlet like the sound of Emilia’s laughter.

 

“I’d think it was because you were dressed like a toddler.” Emilia smiled, her laugh lasted through her hand falling away, gracing Scarlet with warmth.

 

She resolved to be mock offended first, rather than unabashedly yearn for the beautiful woman in front of her. She could do that anytime.

 

“Forgive me for not having been, I dunno…” Scarlet searched for the right mix of ludicrous and straight forward, given her limited knowledge of Emilia’s trade. “Being chained to a wall? Having your cigarettes put out on me? I’m pretty good at everything leading up to that.”

 

“Oh, that much I could tell,” Emilia smiled, finishing another bite of pancake and daintily wiping her mouth, “I have no doubt you are a wonderful partner in less…orchestrated scenarios.”

 

“If that’s your morning after chat, I can’t say I’m impressed.” Scarlet took another big bite, frustratingly jealous that Emilia was both a great fuck and a great cook. Usually, you got lucky to get one or the other. The pancakes were head and shoulders above any other she’d had.

 

“Oh, I did not mean it as an insult, apologies. I think I threw you into the deep end last night. You were excellent at pleasuring me, dear.”

 

The praise was oddly comforting, and Scarlet even allowed an internal pat on the back. That was a lot last night, and she still drove Emilia wild despite that pressure.

“Yeah, no one before was like that. I’ve had partners who liked specific things,” Scarlet finally answering the real question, recalling odd dates and flings with a penchant for specific kinds of outfits. In their own way, things like Georgia always wanting to wear stockings when fucking probably counted. “I usually bottom. Some are— were, rather— more aggressive than others. But nothing like that.”

 

She sipped the hot caffeine and let memories of her ex die in her stomach, away from her heart.

 

“Something tells me that last one was recent.”

 

God dammit, Emilia.

 

“I was in a very serious relationship right before you interviewed me. But I don’t really wanna talk about exes.”  

 

“You sound so serious. I thought I was just the hook-up Mommy?” She gasped in her own mock offense.

 

God DAMMIT, Emilia. Scarlet hadn’t been read this well in a long time. It did not help her suppress memories of her ex. She finished her cup of coffee and set it back down.

 

Emilia did not let her regain her composure. “Are you asking me for something more serious?”

 

She lost all coherent thought, electricity in her brain not reaching her mouth. She started and stopped a dozen ideas, stammering, until she nodded dumbly.

 

“I would like that, too. We can talk specifics afterwards.” Emilia winked, standing while taking the empty cups and her own finished plate over to the sink.  “You also wanted to talk about boundaries? I’d like to outline what would be feasible and reasonable and…enjoyable.” Emilia’s lips curled into another predatory smirk, hidden almost immediately by her own coffee cup. “And, it will help me eliminate a few options that we will not enjoy.”

 

“Umm, I think it would help me a lot, yeah.” Scarlet was feeling exposed again, still embarrassed at her panic earlier that morning.

 

“More than fair, dear. I think the first thing is I can host you pretty indefinitely this weekend, but I think Sunday I need to do errands. You are more than welcome to turn me down for those.”

 

Scarlet read the statement for what it was, sex is great but we can’t be glued to the hip this quickly.

 

She was grateful, having the same impulse. She recycled the excuse, doing her part to help the planet.

 

“I do really need more groceries and…home goods type stuff. I didn’t really bring anything with me like that in the move.”

 

“So I’ll drop you off Sunday Morning? Lovely.”

 

Good, time limit established. She only had to perform until then, after which she could decompress. She’d done it for longer with other dates that ended up laying multiple days. But those dates didn’t land me in adult diapers with cute prints. Scarlet took the final bite of her breakfast, grateful for the space.

 

“The next thing I’d like to iron out,” Emilia began, taking the final dish to the sink. “Is exactly how little you are.”

 

The words hit Scarlet’s ear wrong, and the confusion showed on her face.

 

“Oh, right. I forget you are new to this. So ‘how little’ a Little is tends to mean the ‘age’ they play.” Emilia finished rinsing the dishes, and returned to the breakfast bar.

 

“Ok. Um.” The new submissive struggled with her choice of words. “It's been a minute since I learned about child development.”

 

“Oh, throw that all out,” Emilia scoffed, like the notion was ridiculous. “Not to knock the other Littles I know, but they do not know jack or shit about actual Child Development. It’s more…a fantasy, or an idealized version of it. A feeling.”

 

Scarlet couldn’t help but laugh, hearing Emilia speak so frankly. “So I'm not breaking any rules if I don’t know when a kid should be playing with hard toys versus soft toys?” She sighed in relief at Emilia’s nod.

 

“It will give me a frame of reference on how to more specifically I should treat you. I can give you suggestions?”

 

Scarlet nodded enthusiastically. “I’d have no idea where to start.”

 

“Just remember, there are degrees to being little. It cannot be binary, there’s too many variables. You can want some things that are ‘more little’ and some things ‘less little’ and just say whatever age you want. For example, do you want to crawl, or walk? Somewhere in between? Think as small of a baby as you can, a newborn, and tell me what you do not want.”

 

Scarlet blushed, the image of herself swaddled like a newborn, impossibly small, bright in her mind. That, of course, meant a severe lack of agency, and not in the way she had enjoyed last night.

 

“I don’t like the idea of crawling. Same with eating mush. I want to eat actual food, and being forced to eat gruel doesn’t sound sexy.”

 

Emilia nodded sagely. “Both are sexy to someone, I am sure. I am less interested in how you’re fed than in embarrassing you just the right amount. And it is not very practical to have you crawl around the house.”

 

Scarlet’s face went red, a slight smile forming as she fidgeted with her hands.

 

“Go on, dear. I did not mean to interrupt your thought.” Emilia leaned on the bar, chin in her hand. Her eyes shined as she locked on to Scarlet, a look of tenderness, eagerness to understand.

 

Scarlet tried to calm herself, but excitement at the thought of custom tailoring their activities to her overwhelmed any attempt to be coy.

 

“I don’t like the idea of bottles; I don’t think they’re cute. Sippy cups, sure. Juice boxes, sure. But like classic glass bottles? Couldn’t be me. And I want to be able to talk!” Her thoughts poured out of her as soon as they solidified in her head, her face still slightly flush from admitting such opinions that didn’t exist even a few days prior.

 

Emilia smiled softly, then shook her head, almost imperceptibly, as if changing her mind on something.  Before Scarlet could ask, Emilia spoke. “But baby talk is okay?”

 

Scarlet nodded. Emilia had a penchant for making her lose her nerve.

 

“So at least a toddler, because of sippy cups, walking, and talking. Yet you still like diapers, so not too big…” Emilia’s eyes wandered for a moment, Scarlet could tell she was focused on puzzling out the just right.

 

“What if…” She hesitated, not wanting to distract Emilia. ``What if I wanna be big and still wear them when we play?”

 

“Oh? Like a grade schooler who has accidents?”

 

“No…not that big…” The feelings weren’t tangible fantasies yet, and that added to the complication of explaining them. She only had the vague shapes and impressions of the answers Emilia sought, like paintings on a wall, seen through unfocused eyes in a dark room. “But the idea of school still sounds cute? I can’t imagine involving it, like logistically, but…”

 

“Well, it’s not impossible for a preschooler to still need to be checked every now and again.”

 

Scarlet liked to think of herself as having a good poker face typically. Judging by how hot her face felt, she may have to re-think that. Emilia’s face lit up with glee at such an obvious reaction, and Scarlet felt that same notion from Emilia’s giggling before. There was a change, a certain something in the way this face was so close yet tangibly different to her predatory grins, in ways that compounded exponentially until it made Scarlet’s heart warm.

 

“That struck a chord! Does that sound good, princess? Mommy has to talk to your pretty teacher and explain you still have accidents sometimes, need extra attention? A big girl who still likes being Mommy’s baby?”

 

“...I think that works.” She began fidgeting again, unable to contain a bright smile. “So…three or four years old, but…”

 

“But behind on your potty training, yes. You like to say you are a big girl, but I think you just like the attention Mommy gives you while you are in diapers.”

 

The implications finally clicked in Scarlet’s head, making her turn red for a different reason altogether.

 

“Wait, no. I didn’t mean I want to…use them.” Even just saying it out loud made her squirm with revulsion. “I agreed with the impression, not the specifics.”

 

“Really? If I recall, that is not what was happening in your little video.” Emilia’s retort caught Scarlet like a punch to the chest. It wasn’t until then she had considered that’s what was happening, and thus the primary impression Emilia had of her kink.

 

“I didn’t even know this kink existed until like a week ago, that’s just the last thing I saw before I got bored!” She lied through her teeth, more desperate than she had been in a long time. Her cheeks matched her name and she gave Emilia pleading eyes.

 

“Hmm…” Emilia considered, hand returning to her chin. “How about this; we can try it at some point, and if you like it, we can consider it a regular activity. If not, then no harm, no foul.” Emilia’s grin took on just a tinge of the menace from last night, “But I get the impression you would do whatever it takes to be my good girl.”

 

Scarlet felt shivers down her spine from Emilia’s words. They made her head feel cloudy, too fuzzy to form nuanced thoughts. On some level, in the back of her brain, she was uneasy, but couldn’t put her finger on it.

 

“I…I guess that sounds good? You mean it? If I don’t like it, that doesn’t-”

 

"Scarlet, we are doing this because you want me to embarrass you and we both want to cum. If it goes against that, then we drop it." Emilia winked, dimples out in full force. Scarlet swallowed hard, considering.

 

“Then as long as that’s a blanket rule, I think that I’m game.”

 

“Excellent. Now, how about we write down some specifics, up for renegotiation whenever?” Emilia reached for her phone, unlocking and opening a blank note for them to work from.

 

The couple were determined, locked in on their task, sharing in something Scarlet could only compare to collaborative writing in university and, well, really great sex. The conversation was laughter, and eager contributions, give and take which felt symbiotic, strong because of the connection blooming between them. Together, they wrote out a trial set of rules, Scarlet in turn grinning widely and shyly blushing. Even Emilia’s veneer of the cool, collected, expert domme cracked occasionally, a gleeful smirk of eagerness peeking through, matched with a twinkle in her golden eyes as she reframed rules in her expert legalese.

 

Finally, the sun high in the sky, morning dew dried and the rest of the world even more bustling and busy, the shook hands, a wink and a kiss sealing the deal.

 

1-    Emilia will never put Scarlet in harm’s way or expose her to any unconsenting parties.

2-    If Scarlet breaks any rule, she is to accept her punishment in contrition.

3-    While at work, work comes first. Both parties will refer to each other by last names and ‘Ms.’ to denote when is not an acceptable time to play.

4-    If Scarlet is being treated like a toddler, she is to only refer to Emilia by titles or nicknames, defaulting to ‘Mommy’.

5-    If Emilia dresses Scarlet, she is expected to stay in those clothes until given explicit permission or direction otherwise.

6-    Scarlet gets three warnings on any of these rules per day. Valid punishment: Spanking, escalating in proportion to the rule broken.

7-    These rules cannot be broken except in extreme circumstances and in good faith. In such circumstances, Rule Seven must be explicitly invoked. 

8-    Scarlet will not give Emilia orders nor backtalk Emilia’s orders. Punishments include: Baby talk only, Pacifier ‘Mute’ Button, gags, and mouth soapings.

General Accepted Punishments include but are not limited to time out, restraints, spankings, edging, orgasm denial, humiliation.

          a)    Under no circumstances are things like ‘Silent treatments’ an acceptable punishment. Both parties reserve the right to update this list.

 

 

 

 

“Oh,” Emilia chimed, distracted from sending the note to Scarlet to have her own copy. “Before I forget, there is one last point to address.”

 

They had moved from the breakfast bar, lounging on Emilia’s plush couches. Long forgotten was Scarlet’s self-consciousness about her diaper as she lay against Emilia’s shoulder, looking up at her. That is, except when it was brought up in their negotiations. She had been her excitable, eager self for the duration, save for the blushing brought on by it.

 

Now, Scarlet raised an eyebrow, unsure of any last-minute additions that would have to be playfully litigated back and forth as they had all morning. She was excited at the prospect of their current arrangement, what else could Emilia want? She hated how much her curiosity drove her when she was like this.

 

“You said you wanted something more serious?” Emilia smiled, batting her eyelashes at Scarlet, stopping her heart.

 

“Oh.” Scarlet’s heart resumed beating, pounding in her ears. Would asking ruin things? Would NOT asking ruin this? Her eyes flicked back and forth, mind racing to consider.

 

“Scarlet. I want you to ask me specifically. Use your big girl words.” It wasn’t quite a command, but close enough. Scarlet felt her chest get warm, embers of last night started to smolder.

 

An epiphany came, not like a lightbulb, but a spark of a struck match that briefly illuminated the inside of her heart, like a dark cave for Scarlet to read what was already painted inside. Just as quickly, the images faded back to darkness. The certain something, the very noticeable change in Emilia that she couldn’t quite articulate.

 

At some point since their night in bed, her paramour had shed her persona, the heavy mantle of Emilia, the Kinky Cupid, the Expert Domme, the Rich Lawyer. Scarlet saw how she wore her own skin, her laugh, and affectionate smiles. Of course there was still an element of the Domme, and of the highly educated and headstrong woman. Those were likely inseparable from her core as much as her brain was.

 

She could hear the effortlessness in her laugh. Emilia was enjoying Scarlet’s presence, her company, her jokes, not just starring as Mommy Enjoying Scarlet’s Humiliation, no matter how much of a side benefit that was.

 

Scarlet’s nerves lit with new fear, a dawning in her mind as her previous questions were now burdened with this new realization. This was no longer a great evening that she wanted to become a regular thing. This was now a woman showing her true self, and Scarlet might just ruin that trust with her selfishness. Was this how things were always going to play out? Was she already doing it, and just unaware until this very moment?

 

Emilia was being genuine with Scarlet. She wanted her there.

 

There is terror in removing your plating. To letting beaten metal armor expose you.

 

Scarlet owed her the same. 

 

“I want you to be my girlfriend, too.” She hadn’t even told her mouth to say the words. She was frightened at how often her brain defaulted to blurting out how she really felt around Emilia.

 

The words hung in the air again, and Emilia’s grin grew wider, while somehow retaining the cocky smirk that made Scarlet’s pulse race.

 

“I would love to.”

 

[YourFNF]

Such a cute dynamic!

She's a bit smaller than the lower bound of my headspace!

[ezithemuse]

On 1/7/2023 at 3:05 PM, YourFNF said:

Such a cute dynamic!

She's a bit smaller than the lower bound of my headspace!

That’s so funny to hear! She’s in a similar age range to my sub/littlespace (I’m very upfront that Scarlet is very much based on sub me and Emilia as domme me) and I feel like that’s usually older than is typical in Abdl play!

[YourFNF]

8 hours ago, ezithemuse said:

hat’s so funny to hear! She’s in a similar age range to my sub/littlespace (I’m very upfront that Scarlet is very much based on sub me and Emilia as domme me) and I feel like that’s usually older than is typical in Abdl play!

That's probably cause I'm more of an age regressor and Middle than an AB my smol side is roughly equivalent to a 10-15 year old? But drops as low as 7? But like with some potty problems and occasionally non-speaking. And like a lot of the times it's not even a separate headspace just me? Like I'm Autism/ADHD duel diagnosed and tend to loose masking/get more visibly autistic when I regress. ??‍♀️?

[Hugues]

I was just screaming when I read the sentence of “I would love to”.

[ezithemuse]

10- in her carmine/ mouth

 

“Can’t believe you talked me into this bullshit.” Scarlet, exasperated, pouted incredulously from the front seat of Emilia’s luxury coupe. The smooth ride helped calm her racing heart, but each turn made her stomach roll, and her diapered bottom crinkle in response. 

 

“I’m quite confident that you hate this less than you say.” Emilia’s smug smile and glowing eyes never left the road.

 

Scarlet wasn’t sure if she could take one of her new girlfriend’s signature smirks right now. “I believe you when you say you won’t let anything unsafe happen. But I can still be nervous, right?”

 

They made another turn in downtown Caulfield Valley, away from her apartment. Scarlet had done a Walk of Shame or two before in her life, but none where her diapered bottom was barely covered by the oversized tee and her tights from the night before. She’d asked for a pit stop, both for a new skirt and her medications for the day, to which Emilia had obliged happily on their way for some groceries.

 

“Just relax.” Emilia’s even tone helped to soothe Scarlet’s racing thoughts. “Let yourself enjoy it.”

 

That was easier said than done, Scarlet’s mind still buzzed as she fought her growing, central anxiety. She was pouring over their agreement from earlier with her phone. For the millionth time, she studied it, considering each of the intricacies. The legal-ish phrasing made her smile despite herself. Emilia couldn’t help but be a lawyer. She already had a few loopholes and considerations for updates. That could wait for the future however. Instead, she decided to voice her current concern.

 

“You don’t expect this kind of thing at work, right? Or all the time? Like we came up with that so—”

 

“No, I do not, dear.” Emilia interjected. “That rule is so that we get work done and you don’t have to call me Mommy in front of clients.”

 

Scarlet wanted to continue, but instead the car pulled into their destination, an upscale grocery chain nearer to Scarlet’s than Emilia’s home. Scarlet whined and tugged her skirt lower, finally giving up on any of her usual high waisted styling if it meant the cursed disposable diaper was more covered.

 

Emilia opened her door for her, and took Scarlet on her arm as she had on their date, with the younger woman hanging on to her like her life depended on it. They entered, the air of overpriced luxuries immediately hitting Scarlet, making her only cling to Emilia tighter. The markup on even something as simple as the bakery by the door made her double take, but she tried not to gawk as Emilia led her around. Her diaper crinkled softly with each step, but, as Emilia had assured, was impossible for others to hear between the generic loudspeaker music, inane socializing, and her own tights.

 

Scarlet’s eyes nervously scanned, shot to every fellow patron they passed, eyeing them up and down, gauging their reaction. How the fuck did I ever let myself get talked into this. Stupid, horny brain.

 

She kept waiting for one of the overdressed, designer-labeled residents of the nicer part of town to start pointing and laughing at her. It had been years since she had been so self-conscious in public. It was taking her back to her first few outings after transitioning, when she had felt like a gangly eyesore in poorly styled clothes that didn’t fit, rather than the young woman she became.

 

She blinked, and Emilia had already taken a basket and had loaded up the beginnings of a lunch of stir fry veggies, and snacks for Scarlet’s relatively meatless diet. She gave a small look up to the taller woman, pleading eyes full with nerves, and mouthed a small ‘thank you’ as they went. Emilia had been more than gracious. A small package of hummus, carrots, instant soups, and other quick and ready snacks would be stocked for her visits. Scarlet gave a quick squeeze of her girlfriend’s arm to try and show further gratitude.

 

Emilia merely returned a soft smile at the gesture, her understanding of the woman’s nervousness all over her face.

 

“This sight is quite a change from all that spunk yesterday. I rather like a quiet, shy babygirl on my arm to match the one that made me wait on purpose.” Emilia whispered back, giggling to herself.

 

Before Scarlet could plead with her to be quiet, she realized where she had been leading them. Her eyes, alternatingly locked on her feet or on Emilia’s face, caught the brightly colored packaging of Baby Diapers. They finished turning a corner and Scarlet too was greeted with the soft scent she was all too familiar with lately, baby powder. Infant care. Huggies and Pampers lined the walls, and simple soft toys joined them before giving way to bottles and baby food.

 

“Mommy!!” Scarlet whined with a whispered hiss.

 

“Hush, we only need a few things and then we can be done.”

 

Her heart pounded as they approached the baby diapers, a new, almost sinister air about them with their shared secret on her mind. Scarlet was suddenly concerned as to how she looked, a grown woman desperately clinging, but unsure if the lost puppy look she’d adopt following behind Emilia was much better. She had been in more than one relationship where she and a girlfriend had clung to each other like this so quickly, and she’d never even considered how she looked then. It was normal, typical even, for sapphics to move quickly.

 

Thankfully Emilia led her past them, stopping near the bottles. She spoke, derailing Scarlet’s anxious train of thought.

 

“I need you to pick the ones you like.” She gestured, still speaking softly as other patrons passed. Of course none of them paid the couple any mind, but Scarlet was sure everyone and their mothers knew why her cheeks were turning red.

 

“What?!”

 

“Pick a set of utensils and a cup you like, dear. I want you to be happy with them, else I would risk picking myself.” Emilia’s confidence was astounding, as if they were the only two people in the world.

 

Scarlet’s eyes scanned, her heart pounding. Just get it over with. That’s all, then you can leave.

 

She settled on a pink and purple set of plastic utensils, ridges on their handles to aid developing hand muscles with much less dexterity. A maroon red sippy cup came quickly after, almost matching the spoons and forks, but not quite. Scarlet tossed the two packages into the basket roughly, even more certain everyone in the store knew why they were buying them.

 

Emilia only giggled, and added a pack of baby wipes, powder, and baby oil to the basket.

 

“There, you survived. We can go, dear.” Emilia offered her arm again, Scarlet not even realizing she hadn’t returned to it. When Scarlet hadn’t relaxed by the time they were deep in the checkout line, Emilia gave her another knowing look.

 

“Relax, baby. Talk me through it.” Her kind eyes almost helped, but Scarlet couldn’t help but feel the malicious, sadistic joy behind them at her discomfort.

 

“I don’t exactly wanna talk right now. I just wanna be done, Emilia.” She tried to keep her tone even and her voice down, but the din of chatter and the beeping of registers easily covered it.

 

“I thought we said you would use titles?”

 

“We’re in public!” Scarlet whined indignantly before covering her mouth and looking around. She’d managed to not draw attention this time.

 

“And the more of a fuss you make, the more likely you are to draw attention. I’ve asked twice now.” The warning was clear this time.

 

“...I’m anxious and wanna be done…” The anxiety in her voice almost took over her brain, paralyzed until a solution came. “Emms.”

 

Emilia’s eyes softened further, laughing at the nickname. “Emms?”

 

“You didn’t say it had to be…you know…” Scarlet explained.

 

“You have rules for two hours and you already pull the technicality card.” Emilia tsked with feigned disappointment. Or what at least appeared to be feigned disappointment.

 

Scarlet pulled her trump card, a discrepancy she’d noticed before they left in her so-called rules.

 

“I don’t have a rule where I’m obligated to obey, you know. Even I know that’s in those stupid Fifty Shades books.”

 

Emilia stood there, stunned for a moment, not even advancing as the line moved in front of them.

 

“Scarlet, it’s a contract. Obviously, that should be a given.”

 

Inspiration struck the anxious woman. Desperate for a laugh, she let her mouth run anyway.

 

“And which of us is the lawyer and Expert Domme here?” Scarlet couldn’t help but to giggle at the death glare Emilia gave her.

 

“Watch it, missy. We’ll rectify that later. Until then, promise me no more technicalities? Both the letter and the spirit of the law, understood?”

 

“Okay…”  Of course, she wanted to listen, it had already proven to be fun. Yet, something nagged at the back of her mind, and it took a moment to identify.

 

She’s so cool and collected normally, or at least projects that way. The only time she isn’t is when we’re fucking and i’m doing a good job. She smiled to herself momentarily, then remembered where she was, shunning the memory of Emilia’s white knuckles and flushed face.

 

She saw Emilia roll her eyes and smile; her girlfriend was likely still focused on their rules.  But that was fun too? That isn’t the same *kind* of reaction. Is it just that I like getting reactions out of her? Scarlet returned to reality as the line moved up and their items were placed on the belt.  

 

Scarlet again silently panicked as they checked out, the cashier a woman not much older than her. How could she not know? What would two women our age need with those? Her mind raced as the woman scanned and bagged, eying Scarlet a few times. She swore her heart would explode out of her chest as she finally stopped, gave Emilia the total, and turned to speak to Scarlet.

 

“You know, I just LOVE your hair. Your curls are beautiful.”

 

Oh.

 

Scarlet’s tension immediately dropped. It wasn’t as if she was complimented everywhere she went, but the red-brown curls were the first line from every date, stranger, and acquaintance who felt like breaking tensions. She’d had the exact conversation that was about to take place one million times, and the returning mask helped relieve her tension.

 

“Oh, thank you so much,” she’d say, making sure to appear humble. “They’re a ton of work, I feel like I spend more than my rent on them!” Cue canned laughter from everyone involved.

 

“Mine used to be that curly too, ya know.” They all said some variation.

 

“There’s a ton of products these days that are much better for them. Videos and stuff about what works and what doesn’t, how to use them. That’s how I learned.” She sincerely wanted to be helpful, but the rehearsed, reflexive nature of the state made her worry she came off as robotic.

 

“Oh really? I’ll have to try to look that up! Thanks for the info.” They were always polite. It was like she’d just told them how to take off the lead shoes they wore.

 

“Of course. Have a good one!” Conversation disengaged. Nerves reset. Emilia had already paid. Grab the grocery bags and walk away.

 

Emilia gave her a surprised smile and followed behind. It took her a moment to catch up, Scarlet’s eyes in a thousand yard stare beyond the sliding doors and past the parking lot.

 

“Scarlet?” Emilia’s curiosity tilted the song in her voice, and it made Scarlet blink back to reality.

 

Her eyes refocused, and she stopped, realized she stood in the middle of the street, then took her girlfriend’s hand as they resumed walking. “Sorry?”

 

“That was certainly something. You were shaking like a leaf just a moment before and then you…?”  Emilia was fishing for Scarlet to incriminate herself.

 

“I just really wanted out of there, I think.” She lied. The mask was a reprieve, dunking your head in a cool bucket on a scorching day, and she didn’t want to get into it.

 

How could she sound like a sane person, let alone a sexy coquette if she had to go into all that?

 

“How are you feeling? I haven’t seen you shut down like that.”

 

Damn.

 

“Emilia, it’s okay. Just…overwhelmed. Noise and people and nerves and adrenaline.” She floundered, wanting to give just enough to not be pushed further.

 

“Too much?” Her voice was between suspicion and concern, “did you need to say red?”

 Emilia’s tone became taught strings, ready to snap in anticipation.

 

“No.” By now they’d reached the car, and Scarlet’s nerves had returned. “I can take it,” she added, hoping to placate any suspicions. “Like you said, just let myself enjoy it. You’re not putting me in danger.”

 

Emilia smiled, and leaned over to give her a kiss. Their tender lips met, and it quelled Scarlet’s fears.

Almost.

***

After enough pleading, Emilia finally relented from her refrain of ‘you are far too small to be chopping veggies’ to allow Scarlet to help with a stir fry lunch.

 

She was more than capable of handling a knife for something so menial, having cooked since her teenage years and more than a few poorly compensated restaurant jobs. Part of her almost wanted to be sitting on the couch, twiddling her thumbs and trying to feel ‘Little’—whatever that meant—rather than finely chopping mushrooms, carrots, onions, and bell peppers.

 

Even if she had allowed herself that, the other part of her overactive brain knew she’d just overclock and default to being anxious. It brought back too many self-conscious memories from childhood. A short stint with therapy had pointed out how many times she was made to feel like a difficult task to manage rather than something precious. 

 

She shook her head to remove the thoughts, and decided to play a game. She thought back to the shopping trip and the loophole that she found.

 

“You’ve made stir fry before?” she started, not looking up at her partner.

 

“Of course! Fried rice is definitely a favorite. Why do you ask?”

 

“Just checking! I wasn’t sure. Should I double check the order you’re doing everything in?” She looked over her shoulder, Emilia was setting up a deep pan to cook from and their plates on the opposite side of the kitchen.

 

Her date’s eyes narrowed, tentatively approaching, sensing a trap was ready to be sprung. “How do you mean?”

 

“Well, you forgot to give me a rule to obey, if that’s the spirit of the rule, I just wanted to make sure you knew the first step of making rice is to boil water.” Scarlet laughed to herself as she finished chopping, and began cleaning the knife and left it to dry by the sink.

 

“Ohhhhh. So you want to talk to me like that, huh?” Scarlet was relieved as a playful smirk formed on Emilia’s face, and she approached menacingly.

 

The shorter woman giggled, then gasped, face turning red. A hand was groping her padded crotch.

 

“Hmm, not wet, yet.” Emilia whispered, a mocking giggle escaped as she could clearly feel Scarlet shiver at the touch. One of Emilia’s hands was holding up Scarlet’s skirt, and the other was gently rubbing her padded crotch with their long, piano-player fingers.

 

“I don’t do that!” Scarlet protested, pulling her skirt back down. Her voice was shrill and shaking, more from the sudden humiliating turn, rather than any actual offense. She looked back over her shoulder, checking Emilia’s reaction. She added a pleading eye, and a small “...Mommy,” to make her intent clear. Despite her heartbeat racing, she was playing along at the sudden humiliation.

 

God, she liked it. She hated the idea of actually pissing herself, of course. Any sane person would. But God did she love the tone Emilia used to imply otherwise.

 

“Aw, poor thing,” Emilia’s smirk surfaced again, and Scarlet felt her skin grow hot.  “Your mouth is saying you’re much too big for diapers, yet your eyes say how much you’re liking this.”

 

Scarlet wanted to speak, but only gave a small whine as Emilia read her, an open book to be fingered through at her Domme’s leisure. She would’ve stayed silent too, were it not for Emilia’s hands moving to her padded bottom. Her eyes went wide as one hand gripped and lifted her skirt, and the other pulled her diaper’s waistband. The implication took a moment to sink in, and she wanted to squeal from under Emilia’s thumb.

 

“And still clean back here, as well. Good girl.” 

 

Fuck.

 

“I told you I didn’t want to do that!” Scarlet was actually a bit offended now, a pout quickly forming on her blushing face. Emilia pressed into her back, breasts softly pushing into Scarlet as the strong arms wrapped around her middle. Her breath was hot on Scarlet’s neck.

 

Emilia what the fuck. That’s so gross it’s not even sexy! How could you say-

 

She didn’t need to say much. “Then why is my little girl’s heart racing like that?”

 

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. Retort. Reversal.  Brain, please just fucking work!

 

She wanted to crawl in a hole and die rather than face Emilia’s implication, wanted nothing more than to cover her face with both hands and vanish from reality, erasing her entire existence. She hated it. Her mind raced.

 

“You’re soooooooo dedicated to humiliation that you’d literally deal with my shit, Emms?” Her mouth ran before her brain had even finished the comeback. Like she was watching as an outsider,  she saw the response wash over Emilia. First, her amber-gold eyes flared with anger, only to be softened by the crackling of laughter across her face.

 

“Cheeky,” she finally spoke. Emilia squeezed Scarlet around the middle, releasing a giggling squeal from her. “I will break you of that, yet, Little One. Now, here.” Emilia kissed her temple, and took the chopped veggies from the cutting board they rested on.

 

Scarlet gave a small smile in response, and hopped up to sit on the counter as Emilia began pouring in the veggies with their fried rice.

 

The couple resumed their stir fry, the conversation moving on to new topics with just as much laughter.

 

Scarlet would rather die than admit she liked the embarrassment Emilia had given her. She still abhorred the idea of actually using the crinkling underwear she wore for its intended purpose. And yet the sensation of Emilia checking her, to make sure she was able to act like more than a helpless infant, had made her melt. Visions of the brunette in the video bounced in Scarlet’s head, still chained to the ceiling of a nursery as she pleaded, “Mommy! Mommy, please, no!” 

 

Partners before now had made excited, but not in the way Emilia was twisting and pulling all these knotted feelings inside Scarlet’s chest. The arousal from their play made Scarlet’s heart thump in double time, unable to relax if Emilia so much as made a vague notion of being assertive.

 

She loved it.

 

“You’re pretty cute sitting up there.” Emilia smiled, looking to Scarlet as she put the finishing touches on lunch. Delicious smells filled the kitchen, and Scarlet cracked the window behind her, letting in the beginning of her first bitter chill of east coast autumns to come. The aroma of soy sauce, fried rice, and every sauteed vegetable combined as they wafted out the newly opened window, away from Emilia’s pan, the portrait of an artist looking sexiest when they are at their craft.

 

“Yeah? I’ve been told I’m a pretty cute date before.” Scarlet smiled back resting her head in her hands as she gazed dreamily at her new girlfriend. Could it be called a honeymoon period if they weren’t even married?

 

“Just know you’re only to be up there with a clean diaper, understand?” Emilia laughed to herself as Scarlet’s squeals of irritation filled the kitchen.

 

She hated that she loved it.

 

Lunch was plated and served by Emilia, who expected Scarlet to do nothing to help but fill her new sippy cup with water or Emilia’s already opened oat milk. Scarlet decided to save herself some dignity and get water.

 

They were halfway through their plates when Emilia had changed the subject abruptly.

 

“So you asked about mine. I think I am quite entitled to ask about your sex life now.”

 

Scarlet almost choked on a mouthful of mushroom and fried rice, covering herself with a napkin to try and save face.

 

“Drink from your cup, dear. Mommy got it for you for just such a reason.” Emilia smirked and waited, watching as Scarlet took a red-faced suckle from her juvenile chalice.

 

“I-” Scarlet coughed again, “fine. I guess that’s fair.”

 

“So.” Emilia began, looking away to sip from her grown-up glass, “what I want to know is- Exactly how familiar you are with a strap?”

 

Scarlet scoffed at the line of questioning. “I feel like my performance speaks for itself.”

 

“In that you have sucked on plastic before, yes. That’s not quite what I’m asking.” Emilia’s eyes lit up, shining with barely restrained eagerness. “Do you take strap well?”

 

“Of course? Do I look like I don’t?” Scarlet gave another incredulous scoff and drank from her sippy cup again. It was becoming easier, and she could gesture without worrying about spilling, at least.

 

“You do, I just wanted to hear that you were proud to bottom.” Emilia finished her last bite and motioned to take Scarlet’s as well.

 

Red faced, Scarlet faced her burning cheeks away from Emilia and gently pushed the plate to Emilia.

 

“Yes, I receive more than I top, okay?” She finally admitted, watching as Emilia gave them another small portion for each.

 

“So with a relatively standard sized one, would you be used to taking that size?”

 

Scarlet somehow turned redder, thinking back to both the night before as well as the last time she and…her ex had been so inclined.

 

“It’s just been a minute. But yeah, that should be fine.”

 

“That hesitation is concerning,” Emilia mulled over a bite of fried rice.

 

“I’ve taken bigger and more, just…not all that recently. I’m not new to this. And yours wasn’t that big.”

 

“Do you ever orgasm from anal?”

 

“Wha-” Scarlet had to stop herself from gesturing wildly with a fork full of the last of the veggies. “You have the guts to ask something like that?” She huffed, before shyly adding, “yes, of course I have. Not only from anal, but yes.”

 

“None solely from prostate orgasms? I can certainly help with that.” Emilia’s devilish grin was out in full force.

           

“Cocky, much?”

 

“Quite confident I could get there. I am still working up to miracles, unfortunately, so perhaps not the first time.”

 

“I’d like to see you back that talk up.” Scarlet’s heart was racing at the thought, but urged her to call Emilia out.

 

Emilia merely raised an eyebrow before speaking. “Mouthy thing. I bet you will be begging, just like last night.”

 

“Was not.” Scarlet swallowed, hard.

 

“Oh? There is a bit of explicit photographic evidence to the contrary.”

 

Emilia had her there, after all. She couldn’t deny the photos of her in throws of passion, face clearly flustered as she tried to cum in a diaper. The thought made her smile for a moment remembering the fun, before completely hiding her face. Every thought merely spun in circles, unable to make her body move as she burned hot with embarrassment.

 

Emilia reached over, gently brushing her hair with one hand, nails gently scratching Scarlet’s scalp.

 

“I would like you to admit that you were hoping we’d go back up to my bedroom again today. I was hoping to tease you into it, not make you shut down completely.” Her voice was once again the familiar tones of envenomed honey, sending shivers down Scarlet’s spine. “So can you do that for me?”

 

It took Scarlet a moment to even nod affirmative. She knew what Emilia’s response to a silent answer would be, and quickly added, “Yes, please, Mommy.”

[Guilend]

I love the new chapter. Nothing quite like getting the back your diaper checked as if you could have done that in your diaper, but probably more embarrassing is when the one doing the checking actually finds something in there and proves the check was actually needed. 

[ezithemuse]

it really, REALLY is. ty for reading!

[Hugues]

I really enjoy the new chapter. Read this story more than third then I usually close the website with a sign. It’s so realistic emotion about Scarlet facing to her new environment. I am so scared too.

[ezithemuse]

10 hours ago, Hugues said:

I really enjoy the new chapter. Read this story more than third then I usually close the website with a sign. It’s so realistic emotion about Scarlet facing to her new environment. I am so scared too.

aww that's a sweet compliment. Thanks a bunch Hugues!




to everyone else, i'm doubtful there's another chapter ready for this week, but should be one for the FOLLOWING week. So I should see all of you again on thursday the 16th

[YourFNF]

I feel Scarlet on the store thing... I get so nervous even mentioning this sort of thing in public and tend to shut down.

[ezithemuse]

11- come nervous brave

 

Scarlet stood at Emilia’s sink with a grimace on her face. She knew she should be thankful Emilia had let her off easy. Again. But something about the way she’d been ordered had tweaked her nerves.

“Be a good girl and clean up for us? I need to get something.” Emilia had winked as the sink filled, disappearing out of the kitchen. Scarlet had felt the butterflies return and eagerly jumped up to help. She was more than happy to NOT feel like a freeloader after someone cooked for her.

It was Emilia’s echoing words from the hall that annoyed Scarlet.

“After all, you are the sub.” A small laugh followed the statement.

Scarlet, unfortunately, was one of those people; Happy to help, until directed to. 

It took all the good will out of the act! It made it a chore instead of a deliberate act of service! She rolled her eyes at her own unintentional pun, huffed in annoyance, and rolled up the sleeves of the oversized shirt. 

The day's dishes did not take long, gentle scrubbing being more than enough for the leftover oils and sauces. Once finished, Scarlet remembered the medications she had gotten with Emilia, and went to go take them from her purse. She unfortunately still had water in the ridiculous sippy cup Emilia bought. She unscrewed the lid and downed the pills and water all in one go, hoping to be done with the infantile thing for the day. 

Scarlet was treated to the ever present threat of nausea. The white triangles mixed in her stomach, and she gagged before sitting heavily on the couch, annoyed at her  brittle constitution and her crinkling bottom. 

In practiced fashion, she stuck her head between her legs and squeezed her eyes shut, grateful that Emilia was not here to see her embarrass herself. The pressing feeling of vomit didn’t come, instead her stomach slowly settled. 

The pressure of squeezing her eyes shut helped, and the sensation passed. When she opened her eyes, she blushed hard. Scarlet was staring up her own skirt at the crinkling plastic diaper she wore, the infantile patterns peeking back at her. A green stripe covered by toy blocks spelling out her ABC’s decorated the disposable. She felt her face go hot, with a small, shy smile to go with it.   Trying to stifle her embarrassment, she slowly rose from the couch, face still red and twisted in a vain attempt at nonchalance. She tried listening for her girlfriend, only to be met by the soft silence of the house. 

She got comfortable on the couch, like she had with Emilia earlier that morning. Clutching a pillow tight to her chest, she allowed herself to lie flat on her back, legs dangling over the arm. Scarlet’s brain was still focused on her blushing confessions from lunch, and the humiliation she endured while preparing it. She thought back to when Emilia had threatened, no, promised that she would have anal orgasm from her, and Scarlet felt herself involuntarily wiggle and press her hips down and into the couch. Time was not on her side, however. Her mind wandered, counting the times she heard a certain birdsong outside, or the number of times she was able to recite a poem committed to memory.

It was her forth pass on Cerise/ streak across her cheeks. Blood-/ blistered, when she threw the pillow onto the couch with a huff and got up. Really, what would happen next was Emilia’s fault for making her wait this long.  

A short walk to the stairs and Scarlet could not see where Emilia had gone. She got the impression that she was not supposed to be following—maybe Emilia was in that forbidden second-floor room. A careful, quiet step up allowed her the confidence to try the rest of her sneaking mission. 

The lack of shoes and the soft crinkling did make her smile. Scarlet felt like a child tiptoeing through the house past her bedtime. A strange kind of glee filled her, a lightness in her chest not felt in a long time, and a small smile at the thought of something as silly as sneaking around. Was this what being Little felt like? She reached the top before she could find out.

Sure enough, the forbidden room had its door cracked just enough that light shined through. Not natural light, but the warm, yellow-orange glow of deliberately placed lamps and fixtures. Scarlet could only guess what was inside, a red wall the only thing visible through the crack. 

Still at the top of the landing, Scarlet tiptoed closer, trying to see more. The wall wasn’t just red, but blood red. She squinted to try and make out more details. 

The door swung open. Scarlet’s heart flew up into her throat as Emilia stepped out with a small bag, locking the door behind her with a small key before she noticed the diapered woman at the top of the stairs. Scarlet stood there, surprise across her face, and suddenly felt self-conscious of the fact she was standing there in the oversized shirt, too-short skirt, and a diaper.

“I wasn’t going to!” Scarlet scrambled to find a defense. 

Emilia merely raised an eyebrow, one hand depositing the key into her shirt pocket and finally resting it on her hip.

“I was just looking for you,” Scarlet added, trying to save a small amount of face. “I finished quickly and got bored.” 

“Mhm. But I told you directly not to go in, right?” 

“And I didn’t, I was out here!” She stopped herself from saying ‘technically’. “Also, it was from before we wrote the contract. Invalid now—uh—ex post factor, or whatever.” A flimsy excuse, she knew it. But now neither of them would ever know if she was going to go in or not. 

Emilia laughed at the latin malapropism. “Schroedinger’s rule breaks will not result in Schroedinger’s punishments. You were trying to peek inside. What did I say about technicalities?” 

“Okay…” Scarlet finally conceded. She liked being teased, but was unsure why this felt different. She would have to think on it later. “What took you so long anyway?”

“I checked on the garden first, that's all. Would you like to see what I’ve got?” Emilia motioned with the bag, dangling it over one shoulder as she walked further down the hall. 

“Of course!” Scarlet stopped, controlling her volume and to hide her eagerness. “Definitely no intent to puzzle out what’s in there.”

“Too bad.” Emilia giggled to herself and dropped the bag with a soft thud onto the carpeted floor of the bedroom, turning back to Scarlet. “I want you to finish your bottle on the couch while I set up a few things for tonight.”

“It’s not a bottle! And I did finish it!” Scarlet’s pout was becoming less and less ironic each time she did it. This order felt wrong too, like it also rode the fine line between fun teasing and a hard to articulate meanness. 

“Not yet it isn’t, Missy, but it could become one.” Emilia teased.  “You are to go back downstairs and fill and drink it all again.” Her tone was that same sweetness that made Scarlet’s face bloom with blush, but something was wrong.

Scarlet tried to reconcile the teasing threat, which was admittedly hot, with what she was now realizing felt like rejection. 

Was Emilia trying to get away from me? Am I being too much again? She felt her eyes go glassy for a moment, but no tears welled.

 A dozen rejections flashed in behind her eyes; desperate job interviews, romantic partners, even blood relations turning away from her. She wouldn’t allow the hot tears to get beyond that, and she did not want the pity that tears brought anyway. 

“Scarlet?” Emilia had watched as her emotions passed over her like a cold wave. “Did you hear me?” There was no angered urgency or scolding demand in her voice. Emilia was checking on her.

“I, uh,” she stammered dumbly, trying to say something convincing. “I spaced. Sorry. I have to go back downstairs and drink another?”

“That’s right, Princess.” Emilia smiled, and immediately Scarlet’s heart was lifted. “Just a few more minutes so I can set up a surprise for later.”

“You um…” she swallowed hard, trying to synthesize the jumbled, tangled, hurt feelings into something concise. “Getting sent downstairs isn’t a punishment, right?” was as close as she ever got. 

“No, Scarlet. You’re not in trouble…yet.” She sighed, shaking her head. “But, please be good down there, okay? Play on your phone if you must, just a few more minutes.” 

Emilia walked the hallway, giving Scarlet a soft kiss on the forehead, and another on the cheek, before squeezing her tight. Scarlet, for all her jumbled feelings and unspoken thoughts, squeezed back. 

Emilia gave her a love pat on her padded ass as they separated, eliciting a giggle from them both. 

Scarlet refilled the stupid, cute, inane little sippy cup, and tentatively went back to sipping on the couch. She decided to check the stories from her friends back in the Bay. The same ones that had picked sides in her break-up, with half hearted attempts to check in on her. Probably just making sure I was alive so they wouldn’t feel guilty, she added grimly. 

People were enjoying the warmer fall on the west coast, and Scarlet’s jealousy flared. However, it didn’t take long before They made an appearance in a photo, causing Scarlet to solemnly lock her phone and drop it on the couch beside her, letting her eyes go unfocused in a thousand yard stare through the ceiling. Her former friends were moving on without her.  Of course they were. They had lives without her. The new distance was not making her heart grow fonder for them, and they seemed to feel the same. She would not let any of them ruin this. 

She found herself on her back again, this time with the sippy cup beside her. Her first thought was to merely down the embarrassing drink, but instead…she decided to give it a whirl for its intended purposes. 

She was still diapered, she still liked the theoretical humiliation of what Emilia had ordered for her, so why not give it a go?

Scarlet tentatively brought the maroon plastic to her lips, and gently sucked, not like she was pounding water, but like she was self soothing. She was rewarded with a slow trickle of water. A surprising sense of calm washed over the woman, who closed her eyes and drank deeply. Emilia was upstairs, doing grown-up things, and she was here, suckling her sippy in her diaper. It brought a flutter of excitement and made her smile to herself. Her imagination started to wander. Emilia coming downstairs, praising her for finishing the sippy cup. She’d then check Scarlet’s diaper, then, finally completely divorced from reality as Scarlet’s imagination was, take her upstairs to be dicked down. She squirmed happily, kicking her feet without a care in the world. 

The afternoon dragged on, and boredom set back in. Scarlet was feeling completely underwhelmed and understimulated by the infantile sippy cup and lack of social media that didn’t feature Them. Now her kicking feet were slowing, the placid touch of littlespace was diminishing, but her horny thoughts of being brought upstairs would not subside. Thankfully, Emilia’s heels began clicking down the stairs. Scarlet sat up eagerly, halfway through her drink, before her padded bottom settled on her feet as she finally saw her boss, her domme, her mommy, her girlfriend with her own eyes again. She squirmed happily in place as Emilia approached. 

“It looks like you do know how to listen. Good job, Princess.” Emilia smiled down to her as she approached, finally reaching Scarlet for a gentle caress of her cheek. The younger woman sighed contently at the praise.

“Does this mean…” Scarlet spoke around the sippy cup at first, before turning red and realizing her mistake. She took it away before continuing. “Does this mean you’re done? We can…go upstairs?” She was usually far less meek about sex than this, but something about Emilia’s piercing gaze and dimpled smirk made her wither and blush. 

“Maybe after dinner, if you keep behaving.” Emilia cupped Scarlet’s chin with one hand before lifting it to a kiss. 

Scarlet couldn’t help but whine at the refusal, half whimpering and half moaning into the kiss as she returned it. They parted after a moment, and Emilia’s predator grin returned. Scarlet knew she had fallen for another trick.

“Besides, you need to finish your drink, silly little thing.” Emilia giggled as the younger woman turned red again, retreating into the corner of the couch as she tentatively returned the plastic vessel to her lips. 

“am workin’ on it.” Scarlet lisped around the sippy cup, pouting slightly behind it. The small opening limited how much water she could get from it at once even if she wanted to down it like before. 

“Good, keep going baby. If you get fussy, I might have to put you down for a nap instead of taking you upstairs. Fussy babies who don’t listen don’t get to play, do they?” Emilia’s words were loaded with that same delicious condescension Scarlet was coming to enjoy. The taller woman sat next to her, and let a hand fall on her thigh, gently rubbing at the edge of her skirt. Her long, slender fingers fiddled with the fabric, dancing across a tattoo of a bouquet from years ago. 

Scarlet merely nodded, either at the implied proposition of touch, the threat of denial, or the encouragement to finish, she wasn’t sure. All three, if she wasn’t imagining things. She leaned fully into the couch cushions, and tried drinking faster.

Emilia’s hands immediately began to wander, as Scarlet expected. She cupped the front of Scarlet’s diaper, murmuring under her breath. “Don’t seem to be wet yet.” She shifted to her knees and leaned over Scarlet.

Scarlet’s legs closed in embarrassment, prompting Emilia to slowly force them open, gentle but firm. 

“No, no, honey. Let Mommy check, just in case.” Emilia’s devilish grin was suppressed only barely by her performance, taking on the appearance of a doting, concerned mother as she thoroughly squeezed, rubbed, and groped every part of Scarlet’s diaper.

“I don’t do thaaaat.” She could merely whine in response, flustered. She was still red in the face, shyly staring down at Emilia’s roaming touch. She shook, trying not to thrust into her hands. She knew on some level every small concession that she made would just be more fuel for Emilia’s humiliating taunts. Part of her wanted to give in anyway, for the satisfaction and the teasing both.

“And yet your princess parts are so excited?” Emilia had her dead to rights, and she knew it. Scarlet could hardly hide her arousal through the padding. Something about that new phrase, princess parts, left her feeling even smaller than the night before. Emilia’s words, combined with that firm touch, made her hand feel so much bigger between Scarlet’s legs. “Why might that be, baby girl?”

She couldn't contain herself anymore. Gasping, Scarlet dropped the sippy cup and threw her arms around her domme's neck, meeting her boss’s lips for a hard kiss. 

Emilia returned the kiss, and Scarlet felt nothing but bliss. Their lips worked in tandem, giving her that pleasant floating sensation again. That is, until she heard a mysterious splashing sound in her ear. She turned away to see Emilia shaking the cup, sloshing at the bottom with barely a whisper of liquid. 

“Emilia, please!” Scarlet whined as Emilia used a hand to gently push her onto her back. “There’s barely anything there!” 

“Is that backtalk and the wrong name for the third time I hear, missy?”

The hair on the back of Scarlet’s neck stood up at the warning. 

“No…Mommy.” With a sad pout, she unscrewed the top and knocked back the last few drops. Her brain felt fried, overwhelmed by all the blood in Scarlet’s cheeks rather than her brain.

“Good! I know my princess does not disrespect mommy that way. Especially since the bottle is so small.” Emilia pointed to the small plastic, and Scarlet realized in that moment just how little water she had actually been drinking.

“I’m sorry, Momma.” Scarlet said the words without a second thought, but she noticed Emilia’s hesitation.

“Momma, huh?”

Scarlet raised an eyebrow.

“Adorable. Do you know what that means?”

“It… means ‘Mommy’ right?” Scarlet was unsure if she was stepping in an unseen snare. “Does it not count?”

“That’s not it, silly little thing.” Emilia reached over with a single finger, lightly tracing Scarlet’s high cheekbones. “You came up with your own version of Mommy. That is very little of you. I must be doing something right afterall.”

Scarlet’s face went more flush, the buzzing, overclocked feeling in her head, a hallmark of humiliation rising in her. She also felt a warm endearment forming; Emilia was clearly moved by the notion that she was a good Mommy. “I’m having a really good time if that’s what you mean…”

“I adore hearing that.” Emilia gave another smile, looking down at Scarlet from her spot on the couch. “To be clear, I meant more that while I’m familiar with Littles and I've played with them before…I’ve never had one myself. I worried I’d be too firm.”

Scarlet’s mouth ran without permission from her better judgment. “I don’t have a rule about obeying, remember? How firm could you be?”

“I just gave you a chance to walk back your third time breaking Rule Four, no?”

“Sorry, Momma?” The affectionate twist on Emilia’s title would not save her.

“And after you promised me no more technicalities.”

“In my defense,” she started, knowing immediately that this would not fix anything. Her mouth joyriding again, “I didn’t promise, I just said okay.”

It took a moment for Emilia to respond. “Excuse me?”

“I didn’t say ‘I promise’…so it’s not a promise right?” Scarlet knew the moment she said it the bit wouldn’t land. Deep down, she also knew it was a genuine deflection, but it is hard to admit that to yourself in the moment.

“Astounding.” Emilia’s mouth twitched with an emotion Scarlet could not pin down. Her tone was halfway between her performative disappointment and frustration. 

Scarlet tried to apologize, tried to downplay her joke as merely feeling out the limitations of her new dynamic. Emilia spoke over her. 

“I didn’t think you could manage to get a real punishment on your first day with rules, but here we are.’ Emilia pointed over her shoulder towards the stairs. “To the bed. Over my knee.”

[ezithemuse]

FINALLY fixed the formatting, idk why the text was so giant and bolded.

sorry for the ugly text, i had to get help from a site veteran in order to get around it

[ezithemuse]

 

12- and they will be simple

 

Her pulse pounded in her ears as they approached, the master bedroom now held the menace of a firing squad. Scarlet was barely able to move on her shaking legs, drawing closer to the edge of the bed where Emilia sat. The smaller woman felt her throat go dry when she got within arm’s length. Though the walk had taken mere seconds, she could not shake the feeling Emilia’s scowl wasn’t the same kind of play-acting disappointment as before. 

“For the sake of this being your first punishment, I want this to be crystal clear for you,” Emilia began, throwing her hair over one shoulder as she crossed her legs. Scarlet couldn’t read her tone. 

“Emi—er, Mommy,” she corrected herself, knowing that it would earn her no favors if she continued to make mistakes. “I’m sorry, please, I didn’t mean to hur—” 

“Of course you are sorry, you are getting punished,” Emilia cut her off, eyes locked on her. Scarlet wanted to wither under her gaze, and a cold shiver ran down her spine. “Save it for after. I want you to kneel.” Emilia pointed to the floor in front of her.

Scarlet swallowed, and obeyed despite their dynamic being nothing like this prior. The plush carpet would certainly be more comfortable than the hardwood downstairs, but she still couldn’t help a growing dread as disappointment radiated from her girlfriend’s face.

Emilia now loomed over her, the mere two or three inch difference in height now magnified not only by Scarlet’s spot on the floor, but by her own withering expression under Emilia’s gaze. She squirmed under her golden eyes, and hated to admit she enjoyed feeling smaller than her. If Scarlet hadn’t been in trouble, she might even be happy kneeling. 

“I want you to tell me,” Emilia brought her shoulders back, her chin up, speaking slowly and clearly, “why you are being punished.”

The young woman’s heart had not stopped pounding, and now adrenaline made her stumble over her thoughts. She opened her mouth to begin twice before actually speaking. 

“I was given multiple warnings about using proper titles,” her voice quivered, “and about trying to find technicalities.” She swallowed, and her nervous, shaking hands came together to fidget. “But, I mean it, I’m so—”

“Scarlet,” Emilia interrupted, her voice terse. “I gave one request, I did not ask for your commentary.” She folded her arms over her chest. 

The younger woman’s hands shook harder and she looked down. She managed a small “i’m sorry,” so softly whispered and where Emilia could not see her lips. It wasn’t even the tip of the iceberg for an actual apology, but it was clear to her that Emilia wasn’t interested in an apology yet. 

Yet, she tried to remind herself. Yet is the operative word. Her chest pounded harder as an old, familiar anxiety crept in. Scarlet slowly looked back up. If I could just say sorry—

“Correct. Therefore, as part of the rules we both agreed to,” Scarlet could tell Emilia’s mind was in overdrive as she spoke, complicated consideration of each word and decision behind her eyes. She spoke, “You’ve earned a punishment. I didn’t think you could earn one so quickly, but I seem to be mistaken. This will hurt more than last night overall, but be shorter, more intense. Concise.”

The words rang in her ears, the lingering implications twisting as they reached her brain. She did not have the opportunity to dwell on them long, as Emilia used one hand to give her lap a firm slap. The message was clear: You have one chance to get over my knee yourself before I force you there. 

Scarlet swallowed hard, nodding to show her acceptance of the order, despite her body freezing in place. I really made her mad…but I earned this, right?

She did not remember standing, or lowering herself down, or the beginning of her girlfriend’s latest order as she settled her core onto the larger woman’s strong thighs. 

“—and if you try to block my hand I will start over, understand?” Emilia’s tone was serious, but calm, lacking the expected anger or frustration. Scarlet imagined the dagger look Emilia was giving to the back of her head. When she hesitated, a hand shot to her scalp and gripped her hair—not as tight as the night before, but tight enough to focus her attention. “Are you paying attention? Or should I add more—one set for the original disrespect and an additional set for ignoring me?”

Scarlet panicked. “I was making sure you were done!” 

A gag reflex, an old standby when her brain took longer than the average person to comprehend. Her words hung in the air for a moment before Emilia relaxed her grip. Scarlet’s heart continued pounding, now for her own half-lies while already in trouble, her own brain betraying her. She could feel the soft material of the tights against her skin, sliding down to her knees as Emilia prepared her.

“Fine. No blocking my hand, but squirm and cry as much as you want without getting out of my lap. Am I understood?” Scarlet nodded, almost missing the hand in her hair, if only for the moment she could pretend it was a loving touch. Instead, Emilia’s hands grazed Scarlet’s hips, hooking a nail then popping each tape on the diaper in sequence. If she wasn’t so terrified, she would’ve been impressed. The phrases and commands resonated in her chest, eery echoes of her childhood.  

Scarlet’s stomach dropped. She swallowed again, her throat still dry and cold, all energy of life fleeing in her fear. The back of her diaper was pulled open, softly crinkling as it unfolded, and cool air directly touched her bottom for the first time since being taped into it on this very bed.

A sudden, sharp SMACK cracked the air. Scarlet’s bottom began to burn from the impact, no warm up period like the night before. She yelped, a small squeal of pain escaping. 

“Which rule is it that pertains to titles, Scarlet?” Emilia’s voice was stern, but still lacked anger. It was impossible for Scarlet to parse if she was putting on a persona to fulfill the punishment or even if she truly wasn’t upset. The uncertainty unnerved her. SMACK. Her right cheek was greeted by a second surprise spank.

“Uh, Rule Four?” Scarlet wasn’t sure anymore, and her voice said as much. Emilia’s hand landed hard on her left cheek. That’s the one for calling her a title right? Or am I misremembering? Five? Will I get punished more for speaking wrong twice? 

“More specifically?” Again, unreadable. She felt her panic rise as the spanking continued, four more spanks landing, spiking her heart rate with each blow and speeding along her train of thought, faster and faster. Or would this be the three warnings rule? Fuck, which one was that? 

“I’m to call you a title whenever…I'm dressed like this.” She finally confessed. She knew this answer was right, but the only response Emilia gave for a long time was her hand coming down and leaving stinging marks.

“Correct. I didn’t force any of these rules, you wanted them just as much.” The words stung in Scarlet’s chest, still unable to parse Emilia’s performance or genuine offense, though the latter felt very believable. The stinging strikes continued as Scarlet realized, I do want them…I just messed up. Please—

Emilia was not as distracted as Scarlet. She continued, “You helped pick them, and you agreed to honor them. This is what you’ve earned.” Heavy, the newly minted truths weighed on her. I do deserve this, she agreed, though the thought was unable to escape through gritted teeth. The pain and intensity of the spanking had already reached the worst heights of the night before. 

She lost count of how many times Emilia swatted her butt before she continued, “You’ve had rules for all of what, five hours, if that? And you’re already here over my lap for punishment?” Scarlet bucked as another hard SMACK rained down, at first unable to help her reaction. A sudden, desperate urge told Scarlet that she could save her relationship by not shouting or squirming, so she decided to lock her limbs, bracing around Emilia’s. If Scarlet’s domme noticed, she didn’t comment. She’s right though. It’s my usual routine…

The spanking continued and Scarlet screwed her eyes shut tight. Why did I think I was ready for this? Just for being horny? I’m not good enough for a relationship, this is proof. Burning pain continued building in each cheek as her ass continued to be pummeled, followed by a growing weight of a cold, familiar feeling in her chest. It took her a moment to remember, but the dawning recognition was ominous as lightning on a clear day. 

No.Nonono. Please, I know that’s not what— She cut off the thought, trying to force it out, not even the recognition of what was coming could be allowed in her head. This sounded too similar, rhymed too well with her past, and her eyes grew wide with panic.

“EMILIA! Please, Emilia, I’m sorry!” She yelped, whimpering at each swat from her girlfriend’s hand. They slowed, and Scarlet was able to catch her breath. It was then she realized that her eyes were stinging with tears that refused gravity. From her position, she couldn’t tell the moment Emilia would resume. Scarlet waited for it like her turn at the guillotine. 

Emilia’s legs shifted under her core. Scarlet flinched, gritting her teeth, and braced herself…

Emilia’s hand never came down.

Scarlet hesitated, still panting, counting heartbeats, then opened one eye, daring to turn and look up at her partner.

Scarlet watched as Emilia saw her move, then turned to face her, and a small smile appeared. “That was all of them, Cookie. Mommy just needs a second afterwards, too. How’re you feeling?”

Scarlet didn’t respond. Instead, every part of her body started going numb. Emilia must have thought this was an indication of relief, as she merely giggled and guided Scarlet’s sliding body. She landed softly onto her knees at her girlfriend’s feet. She felt her eyes screw shut again. Emilia used a few soft fingers to turn Scarlet’s face back to look at her. Scarlet had to blink a few times, letting her stinging eyes calm. She could make no tears fall. 

Her vision focused. She saw Emilia, still dimpled and smiling for but a moment. She watched Emilia blink into soft concern, gold eyes searching her ruddy, russet ones. Some part of Scarlet knew that Emilia was reading her now. The parts of Scarlet’s brain that still cooperated knew she’d need help in a moment.

She watched Emilia’s mouth move, probably calling her name, but heard nothing. The taller woman’s hands moved, one to caress Scarlet’s cheek, the other gently petting her hair, tousled from sweat and movement. After a moment, she could hear the soft reassurances from her partner. 

Scarlet felt the cold linger. Frostbite clung to the inside of her ribcage, stinging the tender parts within. She slowly lowered her head into Emilia’s lap, unable to feel the needling pain that was surely radiating from her bottom, nor the endorphins that she imagined repeating their performance from the night before. 

Instead, she let out a shuddering, painfully shallow breath. Her body started shaking, deep grief now escaping the cracks in her best forward face. The next breath was more stable, but every third inhale wracked her body.

It took only an instant for Emilia’s hands to move, supporting Scarlet as she felt her body refuse to support her weight. She landed hard on her bottom, and threw her arms around Emilia’s calves. She pressed her face into her lover’s skin, trying to crawl into her and away from sight. 

Scarlet squeezed tight, and Emilia put a hand on her shoulder. Between slow, sharp breaths that struggled to provide enough air, Emilia’s tender words reached her. “Scarlet, I need you to breathe. Talk to me, are you okay?” 

She nodded to acknowledge her. It was a sign this was not going to be as devastating as it was the time with her ex. Both then and now, she couldn’t make her throat cooperate.

“Do you need a minute?” Scarlet nodded again, and a hand began rubbing soft circles on her back. She took a few more breaths to try and calm down, still fighting how suddenly the feelings had overwhelmed her during her punishment, a freak storm on her clear day. 

“msorry,” was the first thing that escaped her mouth, her vocal chords numb, her throat tight. “msorry,” she continued begging, “donhateme. please.”

Scarlet spoke an unfiltered harmony from twin hearts—one that begged her lover to forgive the transgressions against her, and the second pleading from beneath long healed scars that made fresh, new wounds by the day’s events.

She was still pressed against Emilia’s legs when she felt the taller woman move. Emilia leaned over her, turning Scarlet’s head, permitting a sudden rush of air to come with it. Scarlet’s scattered senses could tell Emilia moved slow, not just for the adrenaline coursing through her body, but to be both tender and firm. Emilia pressed her forehead to Scarlet’s, heat started exchanging, and Emilia whispered, “You’re okay, dear. Breathe for me, and we’ll talk it through. Deeeep breaths for me.”

Scarlet shuddered again, gasping. Crisp air returned, and she felt the muscles in her throat finally release their grip. 

They stayed there, Emilia guiding Scarlet’s breathing, allowing one muscle to uncoil from the white knuckle lock they had formed around her heart. The two women were silent otherwise, save the occasional pleading apology, accompanied by a gentle shushing. They stayed in that spot for a long, quiet afternoon. Scarlet’s breathing evened, and they did not move from their spot, arms wrapped around each other’s bodies. 

***

The light streaming into the first floor windows grew low, turning a brilliant shade of gold as it reached not-quite-sunset.

Scarlet’s body had long since come down from the heightened state of emergency. Now when she checked in with her body, she was somewhere between empty, listless, and bored. Must be the bad kind of comedown from something like last night. The thought made her shiver momentarily, until a soft hand gently petted the top of her head—a familiar sensation that afternoon as evening approached.

They had moved—Emilia first led her by the hand to the bathroom, where she let Scarlet wash her face and use the toilet, then down to the living room couches. She brought down a book she thought Scarlet would like, along with some kind of hobby kit. Scarlet’s brain had been so fried she didn’t retain the novel’s title. They settled, Emilia guiding her to the couch, until Scarlet had asked if she could sit on the floor by her legs.

She remembered Emilia’s hesitant but comforting smile, “Sure, Scarlet.”

Now she was here, leaned against the soft, cool skin of Emilia’s leg, fingers absently tracing the raised textures of the hardbound book cover. Carmilla. Like the drinks I mentioned? she mused to herself as she read the title again. Sitting like this, not unlike her kneeling before the spanking had begun, helped her remain calm.

She’d sat there for god knows how long, Emilia diligently leaned over some craft on the coffee table. They were practically silent, the only sounds the soft scratching of Emilia’s pen and the occasional reassuring touch. The silence was nice in its own way, but every passing second made it harder for her to finally speak—and the longer she went without speaking, the more self conscious she was of what Emilia thought of her.

“How long have we been down here?” Scarlet finally asked, breaking the shared simplicity of the silence. Emilia’s hand returned to Scarlet’s curls, gently brushing them clear of her eyes. 

“An hour and a half, maybe a bit more,” Emilia smiled down to her, contemplative furrowing of her brows accompanying her concern.

Scarlet sat up on the floor, removing her weight from Emilia’s leg and resting against the couch. She could now see Emilia working on some art project, but it didn’t look like an illustration or scrapbook to her.

“Sorry,” she whispered for the umpteenth time. She hated the compulsion to apologize. She knew it was all in her head. Everyone said the same thing. Emilia was gonna say—

“There’s nothing to apologize for.” Her soft eyes warmed Scarlet’s chest again, even if she preferred the cool feeling of her skin on her cheek and neck.

“I’m still embarrassed. When you took me here last night you didn’t sign up for…whatever that was,” Scarlet explained, dragging her fingers along the well-loved pages of the book. The sensation seemed to distract her brain from spiraling, and she continued to try and fidget without being distracting.   

“That may be,” the other woman began, capping her gold lined pen without looking, “But that’s what ended up happening. Has anything like that happened before?” 

Scarlet swallowed, closing the book again with a snap.

“There’s…it’s the ex,” mostly. Her voice gestured vaguely, words omitting how much she knew. That wasn’t much, to be fair. The feelings came up from familiar sources, a deep wellspring of ice water from memories that were not dissimilar from each other. But why they were this intense, and why now? She couldn’t tell.

“...I’m not sure I follow,” Emilia leaned into the back of the couch, looking down to her, but not down on her.  

 It means I don’t want to dig into this with a new girlfriend. I didn’t want to break rules or have a panic attack when I have to take what I've earned. Ruin the afternoon.

“I…wasn’t exactly expecting to be asked out when I moved here,” Scarlet began. Sometimes her mouth did this, running tangential to her thoughts, or parallel, but winding up at the point eventually. “I didn’t do the work to prepare and make sure I didn’t let things from my last ex interfere…cause I didn’t know you were going to do something like this.” She turned away, cheeks a little flushed, looking at Emilia out of the corner of her eye.

Emilia’s dimples returned. Her soft smiles made Scarlet’s heart feel fuzzy. “Do you mean ‘something like this’ as in…being diapered, or as in being asked out?”  

Scarlet let out a giggle despite herself, bringing her hand up to her mouth, and she could see Emilia’s shoulders bounce in soft laughter as well. For an instant, she regretted that Emilia hadn’t tenderly diapered her again, craving the tender intimacy. Instead, she’d given her the cleaned panties she’d discarded the night before. Actually, she reconsidered, maybe not. If I'm this messed up right now, they might just make things worse.   

“I’ll let you decide,” she responded, looking up to the taller woman. “I just…it’s been over a year since I ended things with her,” it was critical to Scarlet she remembered that’s how things had gone, “but it was, like, a six year relationship. I didn’t want anyone to think I was still hung up on her.”

Emilia reached a hand over and lifted a coffee mug from the table, sipping softly as she listened, like she had this kind of conversation every day. “Oh, I know you’re not hung up on them. You don’t move to the other side of the country if you were still hoping for things to work out. I just think you’re still mourning. A different matter entirely.”

Scarlet frowned, thinking. Emilia certainly sounded wise. But given how she reacted to something that even vaguely echoed Barbara’s words when things were getting bad—

“So what about that reminded you of your ex?” 

The words returned her to reality, with a sinking realization that she hadn’t been able to dodge the crux of the question.

“I don’t want to get into specifics,” she tried. She desperately wanted the energy to put her mask back on, to move away from the topic. Even if it meant she didn’t come back to Emilia’s for kinky play again.

“Scarlet,” Emilia grabbed her attention, a hand on her chin turning the smaller woman’s face. “The only way this works is if we trust each other. That was a fairly standard punishment and fairly standard treatment, at least from what I am accustomed to. I went light and simple in terms of how intense it was, comparatively, but it wasn’t supposed to be that…affecting.” Scarlet looked deep in her eyes, trying to find the truth in the words. “If you need something different from this dynamic, I need to know so I don’t cause you that kind of panic again.”

Her brain translated her partner’s words; ‘If you can’t handle this, then I can get out the kid gloves.’  She was already a ‘Little’ of all things, it would make sense she couldn’t handle the real kinds of dynamics Emilia was used to. She cringed at the realization.

“Not to mention how scared I was,” she looked away as well, Scarlet only catching a glimpse of the change in expression. “Right after my relief that you said I was a good mommy, I was terrified I’d really hurt you.” Emilia looked back to her, resolved, and said, “so I need you to answer me.”

Scarlet’s eyes went back and forth, thinking, searching for an answer in anything that caught her glance. 

“I don’t even know how to explain the important parts. Something about the way you talked to me…hit close to home, I guess?” She was exploring as she spoke, unsure of where her words would wander to once more. 

This brought a thoughtful finger to Emilia’s chin. When she didn’t respond out loud, Scarlet sighed and continued.

“Things ended for a lot of reasons. But the most important thing is that I wasn’t my best,” she pointed to her skull, gesturing ‘up here’, in order to explain what she couldn’t say. She saw the recognition in Emilia’s eyes, and looked away, hoping to avoid the piteous gaze that always followed.

“So when I couldn’t really, take care of myself,” she continued, trying to rush to the point, “all of our fights became about how I wasn’t a partner for her anymore. I was a dependent, and a child, and an invalid.” She felt her face screw up again, tight and hot with stinging eyes. “Maybe she was right at the time to say I needed more help, but when I wasn’t able to help around the house and lost my job…the talk changed to being taken to an inpatient center, and being ungrateful for what she did.”

The words kept spilling out, snowballing out of control. She didn’t like saying it aloud, even thinking about it made the memories weigh on her, ringing cold in her ears. She hadn’t been vulnerable like this, telling another partner, let alone her boss, in a very long time—If the meltdown hadn’t already done so, she was officially stripped of any chance of this woman respecting her. 

Scarlet brought her knees to her chest, and hugged herself tightly. Another memory bubbled up to the surface, one of the more upsetting fights, a signpost in hindsight to warn them both that things were not going to recover. Scarlet felt the words build in her mouth and overflow.

“And just, I wasn’t even allowed to say sorry,” her mouth operated entirely on its own as she rambled into her knees. “No matter what, she just kept saying ‘don’t be sorry, just do better’. Like, I know she was trying to help, but between that and always being told I wasn’t doing enough,“ She breathed deeply, hesitating to commit completely and say the thing she had never spoken out loud. “It felt like she just wanted me gone. Long before it ended.”  

Emilia wrapped both arms around Scarlet and a hand in her hair. Scarlet shook off the return of the shuddering breaths.

“Honey, no wonder you got so upset.” Emilia’s words were soft, barely more than a whisper as well, spoken into Scarlet’s wild hair, “It sounds like you spent a long time hearing those sorts of things, and they’re still with you. I’m no therapist, but I think the way I was talking was too similar to that, huh?”

Scarlet merely gave a nod, silent again.

“Are you getting those feelings again?”

Another nod.

“Stay with me, honey, focus on my voice.” Scarlet recognized the concern in her voice, and felt another wave of guilt as she realized what she was doing again. Making her girlfriend panic over her stupid insecurity. I’m sorry, I hadn’t even thought about those conversations in so long. I didn’t know. 

“Can you do something for me? Can you…” Emilia moved outside Scarlet’s vision, before finding what she was searching for. “Can you tell me about this tattoo?” 

Scarlet felt a finger gently outlining a long spot on one forearm, from where her sleeves would roll and up to her elbow. She didn’t need to look up to know which it was, just like she didn’t need to look Emilia in the eyes to know a grounding exercise to distract her spiraling.

“That’s Slinky,” her voice cracked, eyes landing on the technicolor design of a cheery-eyed reptile. “He was my ball python from when I was a kid.” She was able to breathe deep, and a small smile formed.

“You had a ball python?” Emilia’s finger gently traced the winding coils, portrayed as if he was wrapped around her arm like jewelry. “I didn’t know they came in a rainbow pattern like this.”

She giggled. Everyone who asked said the same thing, but this repetition of conversation made her smile. 

“They don’t, he was pretty but a normal morph,” she started, her left hand going to pet where his head rested. “But he was so small and sweet. He was one of the only things constant in my life when I came out. My whole world flipped upside down, and within a year or two he was one of a handful of things that sixteen and twenty year old me had in common.”

“So it’s a pride tattoo?” Scarlet nodded, looking up to her lover. “I can tell how much you cared about him. I also envy you for knowing so young.”

“Knowing? That I was trans?” That caught her off guard. What could a rich, cool, hot lawyer envy her for?

“I didn’t know I was gay until thirty,” she smiled wryly. Scarlet could tell maybe she regretted how the little distraction had panned out, but not that it had worked. 

Scarlet hesitated with her response. Blushing, voice only marginally louder than her previous whisper, she asked, “I wasn’t…sure about your age, and didn’t want to be rude.”

“I’m forty.” There was no shame, or embarrassment, or eyeroll acknowledgement that someone would share with Scarlet to mask insecurity.

“So…I've been out longer than you? Eleven years to ten?”

“I suppose so, Princess.” Emilia let her hand move from Slinky’s portrait back to Scarlet’s hair, gently rubbing like before.

“I think that means I should be in charge,” she laughed, earning a different kind of eye roll from Emilia.

“Over my dead body,” Emilia squeezed Scarlet’s body, letting out a squeak and giggle from the sassy woman. 

Scarlet leaned into her girlfriend’s embrace once she’d settled back down, another small smile forming as their hands reunited and fingers interlinked. 

“So…are we good?” Scarlet’s nervous voice acted on its own again. 

“Yes, honey. Until you say red, you’re my Princess.” Emilia leaned over and kissed her forehead, tender lips meeting Scarlet’s skin. She realized how long it had been since they’d kissed, and craved it.

“Thank you.” Scarlet turned to look up at her partner, and leaned in.

“You are more than welcome.” 

Emilia leaned in too, and their lips met.

[YourFNF]

15 hours ago, ezithemuse said:

So when I couldn’t really, take care of myself,” she continued, trying to rush to the point, “all of our fights became about how I wasn’t a partner for her anymore. I was a dependent, and a child, and an invalid.”

Fuck I feel this.... It's one of my biggest anxieties

Emilia is a really good Mommy. The moment she recognized what was happening she switched out of scene and went to after care and talking it through with Scarlet...

[ezithemuse]

5 hours ago, YourFNF said:

Fuck I feel this.... It's one of my biggest anxieties

Emilia is a really good Mommy. The moment she recognized what was happening she switched out of scene and went to after care and talking it through with Scarlet...

That’s such an understandable anxiety to have, and unfortunately it came from some real life parallels for me too 😅

 

if Emilia knows one thing, it’s handling a submissive’s headspace and I try really hard to keep that consistent, even if I’m sprinkling hints in about the other aspects of her character as the story progresses 

[christi]

Thanks for sharing.

[ezithemuse]

13- A white pond rose

Scarlet wasn’t even sure if she asked out of her usual rested, spontaneous morning thought process or a simple, self-conscious need to pretend the rising sun erased the previous afternoon.

Either way, she saw Emilia rub her tired eyes and sigh with a chuckle at the young woman’s question.

“What made you want to be a lawyer?” She was still lying on Emilia’s chest, her body naked beneath the royal purple silks, save the white Megamax Emilia had wrapped her in before bed with affectionate, gentle hands.

“It was just something I enjoyed.” Emilia covered her mouth to yawn delicately, and Scarlet puffed her cheeks at the non-answer.

“Law school, for fun?” she countered, giving her partner a look of annoyed disbelief. She watched Emilia allow herself an eyeroll. “There has to be more.”

“Oh, you know my younger self better than me?”

She rolled her eyes in return. “Fine, I’ll rephrase it. What gave you the idea to be a lawyer?”

“A much better question.” Emilia smiled at her, and she stretched her arms, gently jostling Scarlet with a giggle. “I was actually asked by a teacher to debate a persuasive paper we wrote when I was a sophomore. It led to the Debate Team, and then that led to studying law.”

“Did the teacher ask because yours was especially good?” Scarlet watched Emilia’s eyes turn away, trying to recall the memories.

“If we’re being honest?” Emilia began, a strange bashfulness Scarlet hadn’t seen on her before. It was still dignified, like she was confessing to taking extra portions from the charity banquet dinner rather than any transgression. “It was extra credit. I wasn’t going to pass the class without it, and my best friend at the time was in the same boat. If we presented our topic and positions well enough, we would pass, and I did. David did not.”

Scarlet’s eyes went wide for a moment. “Did your teacher, like, pit you two against each other? Battle Royale shit to decide who passes?”

“No, no. We weren’t debating with each other, just trying to be persuasive,” Emilia answered, eyes still lost in recalling the past. She turned back to Scarlet in the present. “I guess that technically makes the assignment more of a…call to action? David got tongue-tied and spoke over the time limit. His argument was good but he couldn’t really handle public speaking.”

“Oh,” she responded simply. “So why were you failing?”

“I was actually a pretty bad student overall until about then.” The alien bashfulness returned to Emilia’s face, her normally direct, confident gaze wandering away from eye contact.

“No!” Scarlet gasped.

Emilia? But she’s so…

The silence in the room built, Scarlet decided to cut the growing tension. “That means we both were! High five!”

When Emilia didn’t move, save an arching eyebrow, Scarlet took one of the taller woman’s hands by the wrist, raised it up, and celebrated with her girlfriend by proxy-five.

“You’re quite intelligent,” Emilia said, taking back control of her hand to pet Scarlet’s hair, “but you also strike me as…one who struggled with traditional schooling.”

Scarlet giggled at the colorful rephrasing of her two-point-two gpa in high school. “That’s a good spin on it. Promise me you’ll never be a politician, though.”

“Oh, goodness, no. Can you imagine What would happen when one of us leaves the curtains open and they see a grown woman in baby-printed diapers?” she asked, one eyebrow raised as she teased her.

Scarlet at first was touched by the undeclared hope she’d be in Emilia’s life that long. She recognized a relief that spread inside her chest, acknowledging to herself a lingering doubt that Emilia would want her.

Then, as to not give away the interior revelation, she pouted again, much to Emilia’s delight.

 

***

They went downstairs together, and Scarlet went about pouring coffee as Emilia began a breakfast of hashbrowns and oatmeal, and a side; a sunny-side egg for herself, and toast with jam for Scarlet, who detested eggs “more than orange juice right after brushing your teeth.”

Emilia was plating their food when she looked up, appearing to have an epiphany to Scarlet, sipping her coffee at the bar.

“I failed to ask you in kind,” she explained, turning to the younger woman.

Scarlet had a turn to raise an eyebrow, mid mouthful of caffeine.

“I failed to ask you your own question in return,” she clarified, bringing the loaded dishes over to her. “Why did you want to study poetry?” Scarlet’s host then passed her the cursed sippy cup, freshly washed and loaded with non-dairy milk. The order to drink was implied.

“Well, I guess I’d say the same thing—I just like poetry.” She stuck out her tongue before taking a bite of her toast, relishing the sweetness of the jam.

Emilia shook her head, tutting in mock annoyance. “I should’ve expected as much. Should I rephrase as well?”

Scarlet nodded, chewing.

“Do you have a favorite poem?”

The question was innocent enough. Emilia meant no harm, Scarlet knew that. There was no way her boss could have known about the inscription on the inside of the engagement ring hidden in a drawer. It was to remain there until she could bear to find a way to rid herself of it, or until it was forgotten.

She hesitated as she chewed, deciding to attempt at honesty.

“’Wild Nights!’ by Emily-” she began, but stopped short. She shook her head, and tried again. I’m not to begin the new day with another pity party. Emilia blinked in concern.

“Then again, Andrea Gibson. They’re pretty modern, but there’s a verse or so I loved from one called ‘Give Her’.” She sipped again, the caffeine soothing the sting from her own cowardice.

“Can you tell me the verse?” Emilia leaned back in her chair, eyes softening as they waited on Scarlet.

Scarlet claimed a breath, closed her eyes, and tried to recall the rhythms:

“…I see your

lipstick on a coffee cup

and feel like I have never known a bruise.

 

And I want to give it my best,

and I want my best to be incredible

because people take me serious,

but I know I am a joke…”

 

A silent second passed, and Scarlet blinked before continuing her breakfast, the satisfaction of sharing apparent. Emilia took another moment before speaking again.

“Isn’t there any more? It feels like you ended it halfway through the line.”

“There is,” she admitted, drinking from her maroon sippy cup. “But that part’s my fave.”

“And is that the one with your name in it?” Emilia finished her drink as she posed her question.

“Nope.”

“Will you tell me the one it’s from?”

“Maybe if you’re good.”

 

***

Meals were finished, the younger woman was forced to finish an additional full cup of milk, the dishes were cleared, Scarlet snuck in her medications as Emilia helped her collect her things, and they both prepared for a shower before parting ways for the remainder of their Sunday. Scarlet studied Emilia as she finished laying out clothes on the bed next to her. A clean dress, a deep forest green and a black leather belt to accentuate her hips. The golden eyed woman then stopped in the doorway to the bathroom, looking back at Scarlet while she relaxed next to the outfit on the edge of a newly made bed.

“I think before we call this date finished,” Emilia began, voice hesitant as she figured out how to best phrase her thought, “we might want to talk about going forward considering how yesterday went.”

Scarlet frowned and looked away, and wished to be out of the spotlight for the rest of time. Fearing the worst, a change of heart, she gave a small sigh and replied, “Okay, sure.”

“I want you to know that just because neither of us have personally dealt with that before doesn’t mean you did a bad job or that I don’t want to do this again.”

Scarlet looked up in relief, then a wave of confusion took her. They hadn’t talked much after they kissed and made up, but she still was almost certain Emilia experienced an overwhelming reaction from one of her submissives before, if only because of how well she handled comforting the distraught woman.

“Never? No one else has done that?”

“Not tears like those, Bunny.” Emilia gave her a look that Scarlet couldn’t parse, splitting the difference between a comforting smile and pity. Not even the joy of one of Emilia’s adorable pet names for her could entirely douse the feeling.

Scarlet brought her knees up to her chest hugging them close, looking away again, trying to not get angry about hypothetical pity. She could save it for the real shit.

“Emilia—uh, Mommy. I don’t think that’s helping like you think it is,” she admitted, a bit of sting in her defensiveness. She immediately regretted it, but still resented feeling like she had to use a title now since she was still diapered. “Sorry. I wasn’t trying to be snippy or forget a rule.”

“I get it. But you’re doing great, dear. I wasn’t trying to make you feel like you’re worse than anyone else.” Emilia being so magnanimous caught Scarlet off guard for a second. “You didn’t do a bad job submitting just because it triggered a bad reaction.”

“Okay, but calling that a trigger is a little much, right?” Even as she said it, she acknowledged memories of a childhood filled with similar tones. The recollections harmonized as they started sewing their flesh together with memories of her ex-fiance, building a monster.

She started fidgeting with one of the piercings in her ear and added, muttering mainly to herself, “And I think needing your kiddy gloves does mean I’m not up to snuff.”

“I’m not a psychologist, but that was a bigger, more paralyzing kind of crying than I’m used to when giving spankings.” Her girlfriend approached, sitting on Scarlet's free side. “There’s a catharsis for both parties afterwards. Crying is release from pain in the moment, then relief as hormones and endorphins flow, and sometimes people go nonverbal then, and that’s fine—it’s not fine when it comes from…upsetting experiences.” The last words land delicately, like they would make Scarlet crack if they reached her ear without Emilia’s care.

“Okay—I do not go nonverbal.” Emilia had struck a sensitive nerve, and it made her want to run her mouth again, more than was good for her. “People who are dealing with real shit have that response—actual trauma. Not women who had an ex that was not-so-nice, and parents that were really busy. I’m not the model for neurotypicals but I’m hardly that.”

If Emilia noticed her slip of an overshare, she didn’t take it as bait.

“For better or worse, I believe it’s best if we stick to ‘fun’ spankings only for the time being.” She put her hand on Scarlet’s shoulder. The younger woman rationally guessed it was to be supportive. That didn’t stop her feeling talked down to, that same sour distaste for pity on her tongue.

“And as we go, we can keep trying new things slowly until we can feel out what’s too similar to those feelings. If they happen again, I’ll be here.”

Scarlet looked to her domme, feeling her eyes go glassy. She would be there?

She thought back to how this all had started, to how she made herself a parachute if things had gone wrong, and how much she didn’t want to need it. Then, a growing concern started forming in her mind.

I needed a parachute to feel safe trying this, but I’d hate to actually need it. If she wants me to trust her, to figure out what’s so trigg—upsetting—about that kind of talk, but saying red is the nuclear option, then…

“Penny for your thoughts?” Emilia asked, and Scarlet felt her thought fade— both from the interrupting question and as Emilia’s hand gently began scratching her scalp. The soothing sensation made her forget her surroundings for the duration of a blink.

She decided to go with the last thing she could remember, saying “Just that I don’t want to get treated like I’m fragile.”

“Oh, sweet thing, I don’t call you ‘Princess’ because I don’t think you can take the real deal.” The hand in her hair went to Scarlet’s chin, forcing her face to look up and lock eyes. Scarlet felt a shiver run down her skin as Emilia’s voice turned husky and low. “I do it because if you’re my Princess, then I’m your Queen. That means I and I alone, decide who gets the princess treatment. Understand?”

She swallowed, nodding silently.

“Then I refuse to hear you talking down on yourself any further.” Emilia stood, gave a wink, and kissed Scarlet on the forehead. The younger woman felt her face turn red and thanked god she was so gay.

“Can I clarify anything else before I get in the shower?” Emilia asked, gathering a fresh towel and bringing it with her to the bathroom door frame again.

Scarlet would’ve had a better chance of getting ice water in hell than to remember her original concern, but something else was starting to bother her. A growing need she’d hoped to avoid when she was put in the thick, crinkly, padding.

“Just…the toilet,” she muttered, trying to sound more like an adult than she felt, sitting in a diaper on the edge of her ‘mommy’s’ bed. Her ego wouldn’t have survived if Freud could see this.

Another eyebrow twitch, arcing in curiosity. Scarlet could just imagine the musical sting in the movie of her life every time Emilia did it, but couldn’t pin down if it was playful and light, or a foreboding omen.

“And?” Emilia made a show of standing in the doorway, grabbing the frame above her with both hands and letting her dimples return with her smirk. Scarlet held back a whine, both from Emilia’s imposing, albeit dashing stance, and the conversation she knew she’d be forced to participate in.

“Please? I said I don’t do that, I don’t want to do that,” Scarlet replied, trying to cut the conversation off before it reached any kind of negotiation. Somehow, Emilia always managed to be the one with the upper hand. Scarlet tried to even the playing field, standing and walking up to her girlfriend, not even flinching.

“And we also agreed to try it once and see how it is before saying no forever, didn’t we, sweet pea?”

Scarlet huffed in annoyance, trying not to feel like this counted among Emilia’s little verbal snares. The ones from the date had been exciting, enticing, and this one held a certain…allure that she wanted to deny, but one she only wanted to entertain on her own terms.

“Not now, okay? If we have a plan, a safety net? Then maybe.” She stood and tried to shoo Emilia from the door frame with one hand.   

Emilia didn’t budge. Her voice went low and husky again, her smile growing predator fangs in Scarlet’s mind. “Aw, are you sure Princess? There isn’t even a teeeny part of you that thinks you might enjoy being that small and blushy for your mommy?”

A shiver went down her spine. It wasn’t lost on her that she was now just like the woman in her video, trying not to wet a diaper and being denied.

Maybe she should’ve been firmer. Maybe she should’ve just called red right then and there. But she didn’t want this to end when it’d only just begun. She didn’t want to say goodbye right after Emilia just said she’d be there for her. Instead, she was too flushed in the face to put her foot down as she stood in front of her.

“Emms~” she whined, sounding more like the toddler she was dressed like than she’d intended. Emilia pounced on the ambiguity.

“Don’t you want to be my good girl? Can you be brave and try something new for me?” The taller woman’s voice—her ability to balance just the right amount of patronizing, sweet, encouraging, and commanding—all made her feel weak in the knees. Scarlet’s eyes darted around, her bladder starting to become desperate.

“Babies try new things all the time, you know. How do you know you like something if you don’t? Even you tried cookies for the first time once.”

Scarlet blushed harder, feeling her ears start to burn. She couldn’t deny that even as her muscles clamped tighter around her bladder, she could feel the pulse of arousal start to spread inside her.

They stood there for a moment, Scarlet’s pleading, desperate eyes locked on Emilia’s, her golden jewels full of the saccharine, devilish smirk that Emilia was suppressing for the moment. Scarlet just knew by how her date was looking at her, the same look of a hunter eyeing prey she was familiar with from their date, that her blush was obvious.

Scarlet began hopping from one foot to the other without noticing, and Emilia approached, slowly taking the younger woman into her arms.

“I know it’s scary, Cookie, but I’m here. Mommy’s here. You can call red, or you can try to relax and let go. Mommy will be here to catch you.”

Scarlet whimpered in the formidable arms of her boss, feeling both the comfort of a weighted blanket around her at the same time as it tried to strangle her.

It took a moment to decide, Scarlet weighing her options from her spot, head resting against Emilia’s shoulder, the potential outcomes all scaring her and her bodily needs making it all the more pressing. Emilia began to rub her back in soothing circles while Scarlet agonized.

She finally chose, breaking from the woman’s arms and going for the porcelain that had so much riding on it suddenly.

Emilia turned around as Scarlet sat, willing her muscles to relax. When nothing happened, Scarlet looked up to Emilia, and blushed. “I…I think I just need some privacy.”

Emilia nodded in understanding, but stayed silent, a twitch of the corner of her mouth wanting to smirk at Scarlet, the only betrayal of her true feelings. She returned to the bedroom and out of view.

Scarlet sighed in deep relief, looking down at herself. She still had on the thick diaper, the lid of the toilet was still closed, and she was really going to do this for Emilia. 

 

***

 

The rest of the evening was a blur of firsts for her.

Scarlet had never guessed she’d know what it was like to pee herself willingly, but the warm, soggy padding enveloped her. She never thought she’d see such a surprised look on Emilia’s face when Scarlet called her back, nor getting to watch with a bashful smile as her domme processed what she saw. She’d never imagined a tall, domineering woman leaning over her and darkly whispering, “See, good girls use their diapers, and good girls get rewarded by mommy.”

She’d never dreamed of feeling this kind of burning, blushing arousal without even being touched. And, by proxy, she never thought the act of wetting herself would wind up with the two of them in bed together.

Scarlet was quickly whimpering, whining, trying to stifle moans of pleasure as the vibrator from the previous night made contact with the squishy padding around her crotch. Emilia supported Scarlet, letting her lean against her chest as she sat up in the bed. Emilia gently pushed the vibrator harder against Scarlet’s diaper, causing her face to turn even redder as the vibrator head reached the perfect spot. Her legs quivered, and she heard Emilia chuckle in her ear, a menace in her voice that made Scarlet perfectly imagine the older woman’s dimples and predatory gaze.

“So much for someone who doesn’t like her diapers,” she whispered, causing Scarlet to whine. Of course Scarlet tried to rationalize to herself, tried to tell herself it was only the vibrator and the humiliation, exacerbated by the unique feeling of the padding. This logic only conjured Emilia’s speech from the night before.

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.

The heat in her cheeks increased, sweat starting to bead on their bodies where their skin touched. Scarlet felt the shame, the embarrassment of knowing Emilia had read her like a book from so early on. She was being controlled, and she adored how it made her body shake with pleasure and her heart race. She nodded meekly, a small squeak of acknowledgement at her Mommy’s statement.

“Such a good girl I have!” Emilia suppressed another laugh, instead leaning into the baby voice, like she was praising an actual toddler, or a puppy for learning a trick. “Can you be good enough to remember to ask before you make cummies, baby? You’ve been so good for me, even if you broke a few rules, today and last night. Can you do it again, Scarlet?”

Scarlet couldn’t hide the moan this time, balling her fists and hiding her face in her lover’s chest. She’d managed to do this in every conversation since their date started last night—saying just the right thing to make her face feel like it was on fire. She was running out of time, and she knew Emilia would need an answer, and not just another nod, if experience had taught her.

The cool metal of Emilia’s nipple piercings against Scarlet’s skin relieved some of the hot shame while she whimpered and said, “Yes. Yes, Mommy.” Her mouth ran frantic. “I can be a good girl. Please, Mommy. Please?”

“Please, what, my Princess?” This time Emilia made no attempt to hide her chuckle. Scarlet could clearly decipher the grim laugh’s glee and sadistic satisfaction of dominating her, making her blush, and the pleasure Emilia got from it.

Likewise, Scarlet made no attempts to hide her whine, more pathetic than she’d intended, equal parts desperation, humiliation, and arousal at being treated this way, like a toddler learning her manners.

“Ohh, baby. Baby babble like that doesn’t count, no matter how cute. I need just a few big girl words from you. Can you do that?”

Scarlet was out of time, Emilia’s sickeningly sweet tone, the same venomed honey she used to make Scarlet squirm under her thumb, combined with the vibrator, and her own humiliation was too much.

“Please!” she begged, forgoing any self-respect or dignity. “Please, Mommy, may I make cummies?” Her voice was a whimpering, desperate and pleading voice, as high and small as the first moans of a powerful, flooding orgasm, despite still being on the runway.

“Yes you may, precious thing. Go ahead, good girl.” Emilia relented, not even giving the pretense of making her hold it. Scarlet thanked god for that, as she immediately felt her sensitive, throbbing girldick shoot a warm, sticky load into her already soaked padding. She moaned, a falsetto squeak, into her lover’s chest, while Emilia continued to coo to her.

Emilia slowed the speed of the toy as Scarlet finished, letting her catch her breath, and then removed it with a soft toss to the other side of the bed. Scarlet curled tight against Emilia as she panted, and Emilia’s arms wrapped tightly around her, and gently started rocking her submissive. Their hot, sweaty skin slowly cooled, and Emilia made no attempt to further humiliate Scarlet while she held her. Scarlet would later have to process how she felt about wetting herself and then being treated to an orgasm, but that could wait. For now, the two stayed there until both their hearts returned to a resting rate, and then got in the shower.

[christi]

Good addition, thanks for sharing.

[YourFNF]

On 6/22/2023 at 6:27 PM, ezithemuse said:

carlet would later have to process how she felt about wetting herself and then being treated to an orgasm, but that could wait. For now, the two stayed there until both their hearts returned to a resting rate, and then got in the shower.

[ezithemuse]

On 6/24/2023 at 6:03 AM, YourFNF said:

always love seeing you enjoying this! you're like my most consistent commenter ❤️