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

[YourFNF]

On 6/25/2023 at 10:40 PM, ezithemuse said:

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

Awww thanks it's one of my favorites on here! *blushes shyly*

[ezithemuse]

that means so much to hear ❤️ I know most people don't comment but really, it's one of my only ways of getting feedback/getting a feel for what readers are thinking, since my beta readers kind of know the arc of their relationship and look for signs and such. 

[keith60]

good story i want that to happen to me 

 

[aldl4811]

Finally took the time to read your beautiful story. Amazing work. 

[ezithemuse]

On 7/4/2023 at 9:59 AM, aldl4811 said:

Finally took the time to read your beautiful story. Amazing work. 

Such an incredibly sweet thing to say!! Thank you for reading 🖤🖤🖤

14 coming soon(ish)

[ezithemuse]

14- love-apple

The instant Scarlet walked through the front door of her apartment, she felt the weight of the multi-day date land on her shoulders. It wasn’t uncommon for her, or most women who dated women from her understanding. Now that the date was over, she wanted to sleep by herself again. She wandered over to her couch to flop face first in exhaustion.

The performance was over, she had taken her bow and gone backstage. Now, in the safety and seclusion of her apartment, she could do little more to damage how Emilia saw her until Monday morning. Tomorrow morning. She groaned, mouth muffled by her pillow.

I need to do laundry, make lunch and dinner, make a shopping list for house keeping stuff next weekend, lay out my clothes for tomorrow, do prep work for Emilia’s meetings on Monday, her brain went into overdrive, the tasks now squishing her as they pressed her deeper into the couch.

No…no, I can relax for just a bit longer, she told herself, willing it to be true. Hell, it’s a special occasion—it’s not every day I get done with such an…’interesting’ date. Groceries can wait till tomorrow night.

Her phone quickly redownloaded food delivery, something she’d purged in the lead up to her move to save money, absently scrolling the local offerings. All the usual fast food, mixed in with things far out of her price range. Just when things seemed hopeless…a light rose on the horizon.

“Velasquez’s?” she dared not get her hopes up.

Many things had been left behind in her move from coast to coast. Among other things, California still had her blood family even if she didn’t speak to them. It also had her friends, many of the things she’d had to sell or donate before moving, and of course her ex-fiance. The only thing that had hurt as much as ridding herself of her keepsake belongings and relationships was the knowledge she’d never have a good burrito again.

But here it was, a beacon to her and only her, the West Coast Transplant. Few reviews, but each was eloquent and glowing, reasonably priced items but with mediocre quality photos. All the tell-tale signs of a hole-in-the-wall that was a secret local treasure. And by god, it was beautiful to behold.

Scarlet’s mouth began to water as she ordered. She sighed with satisfaction at a reasonable total, made a mental note to review it after, and got up to busy herself. No sense in being restless when she could at least attempt being productive.

She gathered a laundry basket, the same one that was falling apart from her former apartment in the Bay, and tried gathering up enough of her workwear from the previous week along with her date night outfit. She was preparing to navigate her building’s laundry room, when she caught her reflection from the bathroom mirror as she moved down the hall.

She blushed, allowing herself a shy smile, the mirror reminding her that she had ended up wearing Emilia’s shirt again. She was practically swimming in the oversized top, but it still managed to hug her curves to make her feel femme. Her smile spread in the reflection as she lifted the neckline to her face, attempting to give her reflection a coy, teasing smile from behind the material. When she got a whiff of the soft cotton, she got the barest hint of a scent. Lavender, fresh sheets, and peaches.

Smells like Emilia, she realized, unable to even attempt to suppress her smile.

Scarlet shook her head, but didn’t lose the fuzzy feeling the revelation brought. She decided to change into clean panties and a cute pair of high-waisted shorts, but stayed in the silly college shirt to enjoy the rest of her Sunday.

She got back to her living room, and decided to crack open the rest of her wine. Pouring a glass, she got out her work laptop and attempted to remember one of her streaming passwords.

She had put on clean and comfy clothes, poured a drink, settled on a show, and got everything just how she wanted when the food finally arrived.

The delivery app had shown her all the best signs of a perfect local restaurant. The sign of a perfect restaurant that traveled well? A greasy bag, lots of napkins, and the styrofoam was hot to the touch. She was in heaven.

She hit play, unwrapped her burrito, and took her first bite.

No. Now she was in heaven.

A good veggie burrito was hard to do well. Fast food selections ended up being rice and beans and low quality lettuce, lest you request a million add ons. This was expertly made. Seasoned sofritas, perfectly proportioned chipotle sauce, spicy salsa that wasn’t so spicy as to be distracting, and how do you make Mexican rice this good? Scarlet wanted to cry, feeling at home for the first time in her new apartment. Drinking shitty wine, eating a Very Good Burrito, and streaming a so-bad-it’s-good movie. Like she hadn’t left the Bay.

Almost.

The sickeningly sweet wine paired perfectly, clearing the pallet in her mouth and her memory, refreshingly kind, and slowly building a flush on her cheeks and with a pleasant buzz. It was allowing her to finish her food and make the trek down and back with her laundry with a tipsy smile.

The sun started to get low in the sky, the early autumn air turning crisp as it slowly darkened her windows. Scarlet decided she was craving a smoke now, and cleaned up after herself before making her way to her balcony. The lighter flickered in the wind.

“Fuck, I missed you,” she whispered after taking her first drag. She was speaking to no one in particular, save maybe the cat on the next balcony over. If she was honest with herself, she wanted to smoke more. It felt good, and not a lot had done that for her the past year.

Hell, I think I came more this weekend than I have in…the last six months?

But there was the fear of how indulging would affect her. A million anxieties swirled inside her heart every time she considered small joys. A cold wind grabbed her hair as it blew.

Have I truly gotten better, or just better at hiding it?

Emilia doesn't know me. She hasn’t seen it.

She isn’t obligated to stay if my brain goes bad again.

She tried to take a long breath and ground herself, but the thoughts just kept circling. She let out a deep sigh, and allowed herself a few final thoughts.  

Might it be harder to date with her personal fragrance being the smell of smoke? Maybe her voice will get deeper and scratchier in an unsexy way, sounding more like a man than a husky, sexy singer like Scarlet saw for other women. Would she get sick like her mom had?

When the honeymoon butterflies die down, she’ll see me for my flaws, she finally concluded. If you don’t iron out the flaws, plaster over the cracks, then it’s just a mark against you, for all the issues themselves and your inability to fix them.

And I can’t promise that’s the last time I have a breakdown around her.

Her phone buzzed in the pocket of her shorts, allowing her to stop her spiral. She took another drag and checked, almost dropping her cigarette when she read the text. Scarlet wanted to spit over the side of the railing.

‘Went to our spot on the beach, can’t stop thinking of us getting drunk here when you first moved in. Miss you hon.’

“You bitch.” She wanted to tell her how she really felt.

“Missed me enough that you picked her, huh Nicole?” She didn’t think there were the right kind of emojis to portray being abandoned by a best friend.

The only person she’d been able to tell besides her psych about struggling, emotionally and with her relationship. And now, she was doing a pity check, and all Scarlet could feel in return was spite.

She went left, taking the high road away from Nicole and Barbara both.

‘Is it cheesy to say I miss you?’ 

She hit send before she could worry about sober consequences, and only had to wait a moment before ‘delivered’ blossomed to ‘read’.

‘As cheesy as fondue, but I like fondue,’ Emilia replied. ‘It was my pleasure, sweet thing. Thank you for a lovely weekend.’

Scarlet felt a wide smile, then looked around to make sure she wasn’t grinning like an idiot while on display for someone else to view. After confirming she was alone, save the orange tabby from next door, she giggled to herself and prepared a response.

‘YOURE the sweet one’ she typed, punctuating it with a blushy emoji smile.

‘We can both be sweet, silly. I trust you are behaving? I expect you to be a good girl even when I’m not around.’

Scarlet blushed again, crossing her legs. ‘yes ma’am i did laundry and ate, prepped for tomorrow.’

She rushed to correct herself, ‘yes mommy*’

Scarlet bounced in place for the duration of the heartbeats it took to watch Emilia text, reconsider, delete, and text again.

‘Good catch, Bunny’, punctuated by a small kissing face. Scarlet swooned at the pet name, torn on if she wanted to hear it from Emilia’s mouth right now or if that was too much sapphic yearning. There would be plenty of time for that later.

‘Thank you!’ she giggled as she typed, deciding to keep going, ‘what occupied your day?’    

‘Meeting up with an old friend, Damian. You’ll probably meet him eventually.’

‘Gossiping about me?’ she teased.

‘I did tell him I had a lovely date with a lovely young woman. He understands that a Lady doesn’t kiss and tell.’

She blushed deeper, pounding her fist on the balcony railing in lieu of a squeal of joy. The cat slinked away, giving her a look.

‘whatr you and mystery mr damian up to?’

Instead of an answer, a pause, followed by:

‘Can I text you back after we get done? We’re paying the bill and I’d rather not make him feel ignored.’

‘Oh, yeah, of course. Don’t text and drive okay?’

She cringed again at herself, thinking, She’s a genius with more money than you've ever seen before and you think she needs you patronizing her? C’mon.

She huffed, and worked on finishing the cigarette. God she wanted another, but that’s how it always starts. Slopes are made slippery by vices. Or addictive chemicals at least. Why did I feel the need to patronize her? Patronize. Why can’t it be ‘matronize’? Ugh, you get dysphoria over the stupidest shit.

Scarlet got out a second cigarette, sparking so she could let the embers and smoke blow away, scattered like her thoughts.

Still can’t wear blue dresses.

The remainder flew by, ashing on a tray she’d brought from the Bay. Barbara didn’t smoke, and had no use for it, so Scarlet had packed it. She didn’t like thinking about her previous balconies, the one shared with Barbara or her depression cave of a bachelorette pad. Shivering as the sun finally finished setting, she put out the cherry and went inside.

Scarlet told herself she would be more diligent in keeping the ashtray clean. It was one of a million small things that started to slip once things started to get bad.

I wouldn’t have forgiven me for that many small things, either. That’s not even counting the Big Things. Too much straw and not enough camel.

She huffed to herself, mad at how quickly her mood soured. Scarlet remedied it by pouring more wine and sitting in front of her couch.

It had been how she’d always watched when her laptop was on a coffee table, but now it served as an additional reminder of how she’d coped yesterday. She scrolled back up, rereading the texts to recapture the blushy feeling of being Emilia’s plaything.

A commercial interrupted her reading and her show, and so she allowed her attention to wander, looking over her apartment. Even as it started to feel like home, it was still lacking. It felt desolate, stale, like a set missing a good prop master. It lacked heart. Her heart.

Decor she had picked out over years, now resting in peace with new owners or in some landfill.

One corner of her lips dipped into a frown. Her eyes scanned the blank, barren walls, and she eventually landed back at the multicolor tattoo on her arm.

Maybe I should get another pet.

Her phone buzzed again, and Scarlet’s face turned to a relieved smile seeing it was from Emilia.

‘Updated. I can voice text until I’m home. What do you think?’

A second message made her phone chime, and Scarlet struggled to identify the image Emilia had sent. Opening it, she recognized the last third of the test contract Emilia and her had hashed out together.

The new rule made her eyes go wide, the big bold number nine catching her attention immediately.

9) Scarlet will wet any diaper she wears unless given explicit permission not to. She cannot ask to be changed, checked or refuse to be checked nor changed. Emilia will change Scarlet at her discretion, but won’t allow leaking or rashes to the best of her ability.

She blushed, a small fear from this morning now confirmed by Emilia’s suggestion. It is just a suggestion, right?

She texted back in a flurry, ‘im not sure. you want that?’

Scarlet paced for a moment, and finished off her wine before finally getting a response. Each second between messages, her heart pounded under the ton of bricks Emilia had dropped. She forgot to blink until Emilia’s response finally arrived.

‘Your blush when you did it was just so adorable, how could I not? It was fun, correct?’

“Dammit, Emilia,” she whined to herself, just as frustrated at her girlfriend as she was that the wine bottle was empty.

‘Look, I said I didn’t want to, and even if I like bits of it, I dont want to do it everytiem!’  She felt her heart pound, and a mix of worry and anticipation filled her chest with a cold, sinking feeling.

Was she doing the right thing by standing her ground on this? She never would’ve worn a diaper without Emilia, and she was open to that going forward. Was this another thing Emilia would end up correct about? Her brain always ended up back at the same question; Why did Emilia even want me to piss myself so bad?

‘Is this a secret kink of yours? Cause you wanna handle my pee so bad it seems like you’re REALLY getting off to it’, she typed, hitting send to try and cement her discomfort.

A chime. A retort.

‘You didn’t seem to mind it once we were in my bed playing with one of my toys.’

To say Scarlet was split was an understatement. She didn’t know how to feel, still disgusted at the thought of her own urine covering her body.

She missed the vibrator and being in Emilia’s arms. Maybe not the other parts.

‘Okay, but I still get to say no, right?’

‘We agreed we’d try some things and if you liked it we’d talk about it as a rule. That’s all this is: consideration. I was certain you enjoyed it?’

Perhaps she’d been overly defensive. Getting tone from text was hard enough as it is, and she definitely could have been wrong, feeling pressured when it wasn’t there. And she had agreed…

‘And it’s okay that I don’t want to do it all the time?’

Her heart pounded in her chest, wanting more than anything for Emilia to be straight with her. She’d had a few no’s ignored this morning, afterall. The same kind of nagging doubts she’d had sporadically since Saturday morning had returned, but she couldn’t articulate it. She’d had a few no’s ignored this morning, afterall.

‘It says “unless given permission otherwise” doesn’t it? It’s just to make you blush and need mommy to take care of you.’

Emilia seemed sincere, and the logic seemed consistent. Her heart slowed down a hair, even as each beat gave a shiver of trepidation.

‘that s a little bit less daunting. I have to admit when I read it the first time it felt like way too much.’

Her hands shook. She quickly added, ‘You promise you’ll take care of me?’    

She flipped the phone over and put it on the table, covering her face with her hands. The phone chimed, but she left it there for a moment before she could bear to turn it back over.

‘Until you say red, you’re my Princess.’

Scarlet let out a sigh of relief, a small blush on her cheeks as the tension in her body dissipated, smoke from an oven where her flesh was burned.

Before she could respond, she got a series of chimes from Emilia as multiple messages rolled in.

‘Just walked in. I want you to know I mean it. If you want to say red, then our little arrangement ends, no hard feelings, you get your check. I want you as my submissive as long as I can have you and not a second less.

‘I had something else I wanted to suggest related to the section on punishments, considering how the other afternoon went.’

Another image, another close up on their contract in her notes app:

 

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

b)   Under no circumstances are things like ‘the silent treatment’ or overt shaming acceptable punishments. Both parties reserve the right to update this list.

c)    Being triggered is a valid reason to end a punishment prematurely.

 

A small sniffle, overwhelmed at the gesture. She could feel Emilia reaching out, the text on her screen just as tender and caring as how her girlfriend had held her that afternoon.

‘are you sure? doesnt that defeat the point of punishments?’

She didn’t need to wait long for a response. Emilia was still attentive, reading and responding to Scarlet’s worries.

‘Of course I’m sure. The point of a punishment is to be forgiven and learn from your mistake, not to bring up traumas. I wouldn’t have told you I want to keep doing this if I wasn’t.’

She hesitated, then let her fingers type.

‘i’m forgiven for breaking those rules? Just like that?’

‘Quite forgiven, I promise. And just to make it clear that things will be different in the future, a perfect example appears:’

Scarlet raised an eyebrow, not following Emilia’s logic. She wondered to herself, worried that this was a nicety, something insincere to placate her nerves. She fought the thought’s logical conclusion; is it really that easy to forgive someone?

Another picture, and Scarlet raised her eyebrow even higher. It looked like the cup Emilia bought her, sitting on the breakfast bar by where she’d been that morning. It took Emilia’s follow-up text to clarify.

‘You forgot to clean and put away your sippy of milk and it went bad. Did you know oat milk smells just as bad as dairy when it sours?’

“Fuck.” Scarlet released a mortified groan, cringing at herself. One step forward, one and a half back, she told herself.

‘Emilia, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to, it was just an accident.’

‘That’s okay, sweet thing. This isn’t yesterday. You’re not getting shamed or spanked over it.’

She hesitated, turning over the words she was reading in her mind. Emilia had taken her on an emotional rollercoaster this evening, and she was a little disoriented between the buzz and her own nerves.

‘youre sure?’

‘Of course. I meant it that you won’t be getting shamed like yesterday. Besides, a spanking over every little thing takes the fun out of it.’

Scarlet sighed, relieved and happy that Emilia seemed to be on the same page.

She was still embarrassed to need such considerations, and she didn’t like the looming threat; either of them ever saying red would lead to the whole relationship ending…but if Emilia was going to be this attentive to how she felt about punishments? 

Maybe this could work.

‘Thank you. I want you to know im still sorry, fwiw’, she typed. A deep breath of relief, happy the emotional weight lifted off her chest. Another ping kept her attention, and she realized how late it was getting, already past eight.

‘Well you’re still getting a punishment. Just not a spanking. And then you’re more than forgiven.’

She swallowed, nerves suddenly threatening to reignite.

‘Yes, Mommy.’

‘Good Girl. I want you to write lines for me, and send a photo as evidence of finishing them. 25 times, “Good baby girls always help Mommy clean up”. Make sure to keep the sheet so you can give it to me at work tomorrow.’

“Lines?” She couldn’t help but blink in disbelief. Scarlet hadn’t had to write lines since middle school, maybe even earlier.

More importantly, she wondered if this would really make either of them feel better. The circumstances were too similar to plenty of texts and annoyed reminders from her previous lives. She had gotten more than her fair share of warnings for overlooking “such simple and basic things”. The frustrated insults she started receiving afterwards had stuck with her.

‘Yes, Mommy.’

Was that really all she had to say? She felt a knotting, claustrophobic sensation in her chest as she recalled more and more.

‘Not that I’m complaining, she started, but are you sure that’s enough?’

A moment passed, she saw the small indicator that Emilia was typing and stopping and starting again, before finally Scarlet received a response.

‘Even good girls forget things, and it’s a mommy’s job to remind them. Does this have anything to do with what your ex said?’

She swallowed. Emilia was proving to have an annoyingly good ability to read her mind.

‘But im not ACTUALLY a child. I can take care of things. I wouldnt be a v good girlfriend if I couldnt. Im not going to be a baby the entire time were together and I dont think I want to be.’

Scarlet hesitated.

She deleted the message.

‘its what started a lot of resentment with my ex. She had to clean up after me. I was being disrespectful by leaving stuff in my wake.

‘i didnt do it on purpose,, I mean it.’

Scarlet decided to try and play more coy so she wouldn’t have to be this exposed going forward.

Scarlet ignored the chime of the stupid phone for a moment. She felt in over her head, frustration bubbling at having to share so much about her last relationship before she was ready. Emilia was owed that much, after her little meltdown. Finally, she faced the message.

‘I promise, you’re fine dear. Go find a notebook, you’ll feel better when you’re done. Trust me?’

She nodded as if Emilia could see her. Scarlet went to work scrounging up something to write on. She ended up settling on her notebook for work, and flipped to the last page of the legal pad to begin her so-called ‘punishment’.

She blushed, recognizing how infantile and embarrassing Emilia’s lines would end up being. She silently penned ‘Good baby girls always help Mommy clean up’, and marveled at how bizarre it looked in her neat script.

Her blush worsened at the implication. She was the ‘good baby girl’, and she had to be reminded of her few responsibilities when her mommy was around. She took a moment to cover her face, whimpering in frustration. Emilia is miles away, and I’m flustered over her making me write lines? She thought to herself. What the fuck is happening?

She got back to work, wanting the humiliating task to be done with.

‘Good baby girls always help Mommy clean up’

‘Good baby girls always help Mommy clean up’

‘Good baby girls always…’

She finished, marveling at how much her mood had changed. The wild changes in her mood had almost left her drained, but she in fact did feel better. The humiliation had largely worn off about halfway through, and it almost became meditative if she let her mind wander. Like letting your eyes go unfocused, Scarlet allowed herself to ignore Emilia’s implication. It was fairly easy, at least, until her hand started to cramp.

She had to lean back to frame the neat, organized lines for a photo on her phone. Twenty-five uniform lines, in delicate, feminine script.

‘Good girl! Does my princess feel better?’

She whined in frustration. Scarlet hated how Emilia was right.

‘Mostly. its not a big deal? And no spanking?’

 

‘Like I said, little girls just need reminders sometimes. And not unless you want one!’

Scarlet laughed at the smirking face added to the end. It was a poor substitute for Emilia’s dimples and predatory grin.

‘Maybe a fun one, but not over this.’

 

‘Well that’s all your punishment entails. You’re forgiven Scarlet.

 

‘im still sorry’

 

‘And you’re still forgiven, bunny. Cross my heart.’

[YourFNF]

On 7/14/2023 at 1:24 AM, ezithemuse said:

She was still embarrassed to need such considerations, and she didn’t like the looming threat; either of them ever saying red would lead to the whole relationship ending…

Yeah I feel like that's going to need adjustment if it becomes a long term thing.

On 7/14/2023 at 1:24 AM, ezithemuse said:

Well that’s all your punishment entails. You’re forgiven Scarlet.

 

‘im still sorry’

 

‘And you’re still forgiven, bunny. Cross my heart.’

Gods so much of this hits close for me emotionally

[ezithemuse]

8 hours ago, YourFNF said:

Yeah I feel like that's going to need adjustment if it becomes a long term thing.

Gods so much of this hits close for me emotionally

Thanks so much for the comment, and I’m glad it’s connecting with people even if it means a lot of my readers have had some hard times.

 

care to elaborate on the first point?

[YourFNF]

On 7/16/2023 at 3:25 AM, ezithemuse said:

care to elaborate on the first point?

Basically having a hard safe out as the end point for the relationship. I feel like a long term dynamic needs more flexibility.

[ezithemuse]

13 hours ago, YourFNF said:

Basically having a hard safe out as the end point for the relationship. I feel like a long term dynamic needs more flexibility.

Oh? Do you think that was intentional on Emilia’s part? Or is Scarlet misunderstanding? Does Scarlet have a safe word if she can’t say red?

[YourFNF]

On 7/18/2023 at 4:05 AM, ezithemuse said:

h? Do you think that was intentional on Emilia’s part? Or is Scarlet misunderstanding? Does Scarlet have a safe word if she can’t say red?

All interesting questions... I think it might have been set up as a temporary thing personally/maybe a miscomunication?

[ezithemuse]

[15- did I     scare you]

The cab driver was the same, but today every single bump and dip in the road made Scarlet’s head swim in throbbing, painful sensations, like the shock of jumping into freezing water, all contained inside her skull. It was not a migraine, or a hangover—she knew how to remedy those, even as she got older and they got worse. No, this was from missing a dose of her medications. She’d been so caught up in her time speaking to Emilia that she’d missed it, and she was paying.

A sip from her coffee helped her head, even as her hand shook. The only cure for it now was more caffeine and praying, frankly. Doubling morning meds wouldn’t help anything, and she’d just have to wait it out.

God I want another burrito.

She fished her phone from her jacket pocket, finally trying to dress for the cooling weather, and gave Velásquez’s five stars and a little blurb about how well their food traveled. The cabby pulled to a stop, he was paid his usual fare and tip and Scarlet was out and headed to the elevator.

Somewhere between déjà vu and a recurring dream, Scarlet lingered on the plaque on the directory. Scarlet did not think of her boss as the proprietor of Kane Arbitration & Mediation Legal Services this morning.

How do you do this sort of thing? Act normal? I’ve fucked coworkers before, but this is a little different than a cute hostess…right?

The poor woman only got more flustered as the events of the weekend came back to her in flashes. She stood there, struck by her own depravity and remembered the culmination of their prolonged date, wetting herself willingly, and then an orgasm inside the wet diaper.

Scarlet bit a knuckle and, finding the elevator only halfway up and herself the sole occupant, allowed herself a small stomping release of blushing frustration. Her appearance was already returned to its proper neat and prim status by time the elevator doors opened.

The door to the office was already unlocked when she arrived six minutes before the start of her shift. Scarlet entered hesitantly, like she was expecting an ambush on the other side, but the room was silent. She could hear movement from Emilia’s office, the sliding of steel cabinets and clicking of heels. Scarlet took a sip of her coffee again, set down her bag, and went to face the awkwardness head-on.

“Em-Miss Kane?” Scarlet corrected herself. Emilia turned from an open file to look at her with a small smile.

“Good morning, Miss Finch. How long until my first appointment?” The words were distant, but the tone was pleasant, more than just office familiarity.

Scarlet already knew, but stumbled over her words anyway, unsure how to act. “Uh, about an hour until your first call, Miss, and you have the follow up appointment with Christopher and Lila this afternoon. Did you need anything from me beforehand?” She stood there, scanning her boss’s face, trying to make sure she hadn’t done anything wrong in the short time since they spoke and now. Her head buzzed, uncomfortable pressure making her feel a little dizzy mixing with fluttering, blooming feelings.

If Emilia noticed, she didn’t say anything. She moved around to the edge of her desk, closer to Scarlet, and sat on it like she had last week. “Then you can drop formalities until then. How are you, dear?” The tone was unchanged, but her smile brightened.

Scarlet couldn’t help but feel a flutter of delight as she watched her boss turn back into her girlfriend. This was the woman she’d kissed in the moonlight. “Good,” she said, dumbly, wishing she could describe how she’d actually felt. “I wasn’t sure how we’d handle things, even with the rules, if I'm being honest.”

Emilia beckoned her closer with one finger, and Scarlet obeyed. The taller woman took the coffee from her shaking hands, setting it down on the desk and then gently resting her palms on Scarlet’s hips.

“I think that’s natural. It’s new territory,” Emilia said, in a low, conversational voice. Probably to assuage her nerves, Scarlet assumed, but it only elicited a different kind of physical response. “Unless stated otherwise, be mindful of what you call me, say, twenty minutes before someone’s supposed to arrive?”

Seemed reasonable. Seemed—rational. Seemed…practiced. Did Emilia think about this a lot since Sunday morning, or—

Scarlet nodded, banishing the thought, and placed her hands on Emilia’s shoulders, at first for balance, then to feel her defined collarbone through her blouse. “I can do that. Are we still on full rules otherwise? Like, calling you a title and all?”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Emilia smiled, leaning in, giving Scarlet’s lips a delicate brush of her own. “Two questions, dear. Do you have your lines from your punishment last night?”

Scarlet blushed as she nodded, feeling small. She retrieved the folded sheet from the pocket of her skirt. Scarlet watched Emilia unfold it and examine her handwriting, not realizing she was holding her breath until her boss gave a small smile.

“Good girl,” Emilia purred, making Scarlet give a bashful grin in return. She wasn’t used to such an overt desire for praise. Emilia cleared her throat and continued, “Secondly, is this lipstick the same kind of lipstick you wore on our date?”

Scarlet turned her head in confusion, wanting more of a kiss and to make sense of the question. It took her a moment to respond, trying to remember. “Yeah, the same brand and line. Why?”

“Because it held up very well on our date. I wanted to make sure before I smeared your makeup everywhere.” Emilia leaned back in, kissing her with deep, firm intent. It reminded Scarlet of their first kiss, the tension leading to it, and made her just as happy.

Scarlet let her hands wander to the back of Emilia’s head in a happy clasp of prayer around her lover.

“You’re very smooth when you want to be,” Scarlet couldn't hide the smile in her voice once they separated.

“And you are quite the kisser.” Emilia’s smirk returned and Scarlet could feel her eyes scanning her. “Is everything all right?”

The swimming, buzzing sensation hadn’t entirely left her head, but Scarlet nodded anyway, coming up with another excuse on the spot.

“I just,” she started, finding an actual concern along the way. “I believe you when you say it, but it’s hard to accept. I’m really not in trouble anymore?”

“You’re really not.” Emilia leaned in and left a gentle kiss on Scarlet’s forehead, the instant of contact pressing right on a nerve that lessened her head’s dizzying sensations. “Besides, you enjoyed that first spanking so much, I figured they could mostly be a fun pastime, rather than a punishment. Just don’t lock your knees next time. It makes it harder to breathe.”

Scarlet blushed, hiding her face in Emilia’s shoulder as she realized the truth in her statement. Scarlet had panicked and done the exact wrong thing at every turn for her last spanking, and that had probably only made the situation worse.

Emilia lifted her hands from Scarlet’s hips, one resting on her back and the other to the curls on the back of her head. The taller woman’s arms comforted her as they wrapped, holding her tight. “I’ll have to get started preparing for that call and the rest of my meetings soon. Before that-” Emilia said, a soft-spoken, almost tender voice that Scarlet recognized from when her boss had to plead with her to breathe. “I’m not going to hate you for earning a punishment. Your ex maybe gave you a bit of a complex over little things like that?”

A reflex, a kick from her heart, and Scarlet realized she wanted to defend Barbara. In the before-before, they’d loved each other, and if anyone had done anything to hurt each other intentionally, they would be equally culpable. Besides, her parents were the original designers of many of her complexes.

Another, just as vocal shard covered for her instead, “None that I didn’t say last night.”

It was a shallow deflection, even for her. She wanted to have something more clever to say, or to even be righteously indignant. How dare Emilia play psychoanalyst first thing in the morning! Her brain raced, not with clever subject changes, but with snippy, crude barbs to match the pain inside her skull. She didn’t like that impulse.

Emilia’s hands didn’t allow her the satisfaction of getting angry. She could feel fingers run through her freshly washed curls. Scarlet couldn’t help but allow the tension drain from her shoulders, something she hadn’t realized had happened. 

“That’s my princess,” Emilia cooed. Scarlet could hear the smile on her voice as it took on its saccharine, tauntingly sweet tone. “Ready to get to work?”

* * *

Scarlet could hear snippets of her girlfriend’s voice down the hall as the day started to pass in a rhythm that was growing familiar. She noted how even if she couldn’t quite make out the words, Emilia always signed off a call with the same lilting, almost birdsong-like cadence, and it always made her ears perk up.

The work was slow, the content often dull, but Scarlet could always feel her motivation improve with a stray thought of Emilia’s smile, her eyes, her dimples, how muscular her back looked…

Scarlet shook her head to clear her thoughts, and when she opened her eyes again, the ping of a message from Emilia appeared on her monitor. Can you come back and we’ll start planning lunch?

The woman smiled, typing a quick confirmation before gathering her things and heading to Emilia’s office.

When she arrived, Emilia was bent over the bottom drawer of a cabinet, holding files in her arms. “Can you hold these, Miss Finch?”

When Scarlet was done staring at her boss’s ass, she took the growing stack of files, struggling momentarily to balance something tall enough to block her vision. “Rearranging? Or should I shred these?”

“Something like rearranging,” Emilia replied, and Scarlet could hear the nefarious grin in her voice. Scarlet looked at her, puzzled, unsure how someone could manage to lay a trap just by rearranging a filing cabinet.

It only took the time Emilia needed to arrange the files distributed throughout the drawers above before her evil plot was exposed to Scarlet.

Emilia returned to her desk, reaching under it and producing a tote bag full of something that made loud, plastic crinkling as it moved within. Scarlet’s eyes went wide in recognition.

Emilia reached into the bag, and placed baby oil, wipes, powder, a small box of trash bags, and finally the bag of megamax diapers into the bottom drawer. They’d bought multiple of each of the changing supplies, and Scarlet deduced this wasn’t her girlfriend’s entire supply, but that only made her ears start to burn more. Emilia closed the drawer, and sighed contently at a task completed. She looked over at Scarlet, who felt her face get ever so slightly warmer and her pulse accelerating as she looked away.

Those were the ones we bought together, and she’s going to keep them here? Scarlet’s thoughts raced, her pulse turning an ignition key inside her still swimming skull. Another thought came, one that diminished the slight enjoyment she derived from such an embarrassing, patronizing, controlling gesture.

Has she been planning this since then? Or has she done this before?

Has Emilia done this little dance with a new hire before?  

Her employer spoke, and she was forced to focus, if only momentarily, “I wanted to be prepared for when I want to play with my favorite toy.”

Scarlet couldn’t help but feel her eyes grow big, giving Emilia a pleading, eyelash batting look as she melted on the spot. She was still torn between her anxieties and enjoying Emilia’s domineering performance, but the latter was definitely winning out.

“Use your words, bunny,” Emilia cooed to her before giving a dark chuckle. “Do you have something to say before I send you out for our lunch?”

The simple, cloyingly sweet words made her hands shoot up to her eyes, eliciting a whine and a shake of her head. She cleared her throat after a moment and answered with a small but noticeable quiver, “N…no... mommy.”

“Good. I’ll have to order more soon and keep a pack here. Care to go to the little bistro down the block today?”

She’d never moved so fast to do a task at work in her life.

*  *  *

“So be good and finish all of your drink, and I’ll go easy on you. Deal?” Emilia smirked, looking across her desk at Scarlet. They both poked at soups and salads, though Scarlet had turned bright red and was gazing intently at her lunch to avoid her girlfriend’s dominant gaze.

“Something tells me you ‘going easy’ on me is still going to fry my brain.” Scarlet tried to quip back, but regretted confirming how susceptible she was to Emilia.

“Oh? And what makes you think that, Miss Finch?”

“Call it a Woman’s Intuition,” she answered between bites of lunch. “Or basic pattern recognition.”

Scarlet was a bit proud as Emilia had to cover her mouth to laugh. The prim and proper woman wasn’t so disastrously mannered to speak with a mouth half full, even covered (unlike Scarlet), but her retort caught her mid bite.

“Mouthy, always getting the last word, don’t you?” Emilia laughed, finally clearing her throat of her choking hazard. “I wonder how sassy you’d be if you couldn’t talk? I’ve got a gag or two.”

Scarlet swallowed her nerves and the remainder of her lunch. “Like…like a gag where I can’t close my mouth but also can’t speak? The little red ball kind?” She felt her face turn red with a simultaneous shock of fear in her eyes. After Emilia nodded, Scarlet panicked, scrambling for a defense. “Is that really a good idea? Like, I kind of shut down…I couldn’t talk for a bit, right? Does that not seem…like smoking in dry brush?”

“Ah, clever little thing.” Emilia smiled, taking a long sip from her drink. “When doing a scene like that, where someone cannot speak, it’s best practice to use some kind of hand signal or gesture to answer the dominant or use a safeword. We would establish that before I limited your speech or restrained you.”

Scarlet nodded sagely, trying to follow along, or even appear like she understood, even as her swimming head struggled. Scarlet winced as Emilia’s eyes lit up, not even trying to hide that a new, nefarious thought had just crossed her mind.

“Maybe since you’re a little, it should be baby sign!”

“Baby sign?”

“Baby sign language? Simplified ASL for tiny baby hands to talk to their mommies and daddies before they can say a lot of words. Would you like that, baby?”

“Emms….” Scarlet gave a quiet whine, hiding behind the plastic bottle of her drink as the thought set in. She couldn’t think, too flustered from her ears burning and her head swimming, to fully decide if she liked the embarrassing notion.

“Aww, are you getting shy, sweet thing?” Emilia’s cooing turned up a notch, the intensity telling Scarlet she was on the prowl, looking to back her into this wordplay trap. “I think it would be sweet. Kind of like taking a Mommy and Me class, right? And if you do go nonverbal again, it might actually be helpful for asking for things, no?”

Scarlet finally conceded, unable to fight as her body responded to Emilia’s tone, finishing off her tea. She focused, only acknowledged her embarrassment and the small, enjoyable flush of arousal. At least, she told herself that she wouldn’t acknowledge her impulse to avoid asking for her wants like a leper.

“I’ll learn them, I guess.” Scarlet poked at the last bits of vegetation and her bread, trying not to think of a Mommy and Me class with the domineering woman.

“That’s ‘yes, mommy.’” She corrected, finishing the last of her own drink.

“Yes, mommy,” Scarlet obeyed, another small smile growing. “Sorry.”

“No problem, bunny. Mommy is going to excuse herself to the powder room. Enjoy the rest of your break and then make sure you’re back in work mode before the two pm appointment, she’ll be here in person.” Emilia slid her office chair back as she spoke, gathering bits of trash. Before leaving, she produced yet another gift from under her desk; a massive canteen water bottle made of hard, shiny metal. It clanked and thudded as it landed on the desk, making Scarlet’s head sting momentarily. “And I expect you to drink this throughout the day. I want it at least half empty by end-of-day, understood?”

“Yes, mommy,” she repeated, and let a quick thought cover her blushing. “Any other surprises under that desk, Miss Poppins?”

Emilia gave her a raised eyebrow, but Scarlet could tell she was suppressing a grin at the younger woman’s jokes.

“It’s a title! ‘Miss Poppins’ is a title.”

“Not helping your case, little one,” Emilia said, gently scratching Scarlet’s scalp as she passed towards the front door.

Scarlet let a meek smile grow at the praise. “I had a few more lined up.”

 “You’re lucky you’re cute. No more, okay? Back to work.”

She looked down, then back up to her girlfriend. Emilia returned her concerned look.

“Can I,” she stopped, looking for the words, “can I say one more?” Emilia raised an eyebrow. Scarlet quickly continued, “If it’s not funny you can count it against me?”

“Are you sure about that? That’s a dangerous precedent.”

“I was gonna call you ‘the Bride of Frankenstein’.”

Scarlet saw Emilia’s eyebrow somehow go higher, and Scarlet giggled. After a moment, Emilia lifted a tentative hand to her head, before wrapping the shock of platinum blonde hair in her fingers.

“I was going for Anna Paquin from X-men…” Emilia couldn’t hide a smile back as Scarlet broke out in laughter, and Emilia turned to leave, speaking over her shoulder, “Precedent set, little girl. Funny or not, I expect you to drink, understand? Be good.”  

 

Now that she was alone, hearing her girlfriend’s departure, she eyed the massive canteen warily. Her face turned red, and her leg bounced, trying to puzzle out the meaning of both Emilia’s order and her quip.

* * *

Scarlet was at her desk two hours later, hearing her girlfriend’s voice match their client’s down the hall, and she eyed the canteen warily. Her face was hinted flush, her leg bounced, and she had deduced the answer to her questions.

She was already close to the halfway mark, as instructed, with a few hours still to go before her deadline. Perhaps that was too fast to drink. Or perhaps it was the androgen she took with her hormone therapy being essentially a diuretic. She merely had to wait until the client left and they had a long break before their final meeting with Chris and Lila. Scarlet had to pee like her life depended on it.

Desperate, she began typing, I need to run to the restroom real quick, will I miss her on her way out for follow -ups if I go right now? 

Her leg began bouncing even faster, but she knew she wouldn’t sit here until she pissed herself. If she didn’t need to be there to make an appointment for follow-up, she would’ve already left. Both immediately before and immediately after were the only times she really needed to be at the front desk.

Her computer beeped, and Emilia’s reply made her give a small seethe to herself, so long as she was alone.

Are you asking me as your boss or? The implied ‘mommy’ wasn’t needed. It occurred to her that Emilia probably didn’t want any of their play digitally recorded.

Miss Kane, that’s not funny. Hold her for five minutes. Her message was sent, she stood from her chair, only for her to hear the door to the office open. “fuckme,” she muttered under her breath, sitting back down and getting ready to do her job.

A minute later, she was entering Emilia’s office. “She is scheduled for a week from today at 10:30, Miss Kane.”

Scarlet stood there, her notepad in hand, under the assumption Emilia needed her for her secretarial duties. The smirk on her boss’s face told her otherwise.

“I don’t think you give orders to me, sweet thing, either as my employee or my submissive,” Emilia teased, half sarcasm and half mocking taunt. She didn’t mean it, Scarlet could tell, it was merely a way to demonstrate her power in their dynamic.

Scarlet opened her mouth, only to feel another painful pang in her bladder. Her face turned red, and she hid it behind her notepad. The cramps were still building, the dam near overflowing, and yet somehow…the pressure felt nice?

“Aww, no hiding. Can you use your manners and ask again, bunny?”

Scarlet couldn’t see her girlfriend, but she was certain that Emilia’s teeth had grown pointed like a devil’s as she flashed them in her smirk.

She had no time to be coy and play into the humiliating scenario, even if she wanted to.

“I-” she squirmed in place, both in pain and in embarrassment, interrupting herself. “Miss, I’m sorry, please, I'll be more polite with my words,” she scrambled for her words, moving the notebook down to give her domme a pleading, puppy-eyed look. “Please let me use the bathroom.”

“That was much better, princess! One ‘sorry’ and two ‘please’s, I think you’ve earned it. Quick like a bunny, before you make a puddle.”

Scarlet dashed from the spot, only slowing to toss the notepad onto her desk, open the office door and make sure no one would see her sprinting to the bathroom in obvious desperation. Once she was sure the hallway was clear, the ladies room door flew open and she claimed an open stall for herself.

The relief washed over her, and she had to clench her jaw to hold in a deep sigh in the event someone else had been in the bathroom with her. She’d never felt her body relax as much as it had now, desperate pressure finally lifted from her poor bladder.

Scarlet still allowed herself a deep breath, and got comfortable. She’d be there for a while. It afforded her time to think, but not much else.

Had Emilia been plotting this as well? How long has she been hoping to do this to me? She thought back to how much water she’d been ordered to drink today and recalled a similar scenario over the weekend. I drank like four sippy cups full of fucking water! She’s been trying to make me desperate like this.

What would she have done if I actually did lose control in the office?

She shook her head, unable to help herself but laugh at the thought. She finished her business in the toilet—like a big girl, she grimaced to herself, imagining Emilia’s saccharine sweet taunt— and stood. Her missing medication dose reared its head again, making her dizzy and her brain throb inside its casing.

Scarlet decided she was still miffed about how much Emilia had plotted this out, even if the sensation of relief (and ONLY the relief, she told herself) was nice afterwards. The walk back was filled with the click of her shoes on the floor, scoring her anger. She didn’t stop at her desk, instead heading straight back to Emilia’s office.

“Miss Kane, I need-” she stopped her indignant speech short, getting dizzy again for a moment. When her eyes refocused, she saw Emilia standing next to the filing cabinet.

Scarlet’s eyes went wide as she realized, the one she loaded this morning with the diapering stuff.

 “Oh, no need for formal work talk, dear. I think mommy is in and ready to take care of you.” She pulled the drawer open with one hand, not breaking eye contact with Scarlet as she produced one of the diapers.

Scarlet wasn’t sure if she was dizzy now from the headrush of blood as she blushed, the embarrassment in general, her missing medications, or the mere prospect of Emilia diapering her at work.

Her arms full, Emilia returned to her desk, moving the arm mounted monitor out of the way and clearing the few stray items temporarily.

When Scarlet didn’t move, Emilia gave her a look of faux-confusion, as if the implied order was the simplest, easy-to-follow command ever given. “Hop up, Scarlet. I’m going to pamper you to help you manage all that water you’ve still got to drink.”

“Miss…” she stammered, lucky that she had defaulted to something close to a title in her stunned confusion.

“Yes dear? Do you need my help getting onto the desk?” Emilia smirked as the diaper, wipes, powder and oil were set on the desk. The open space was big enough to hold Scarlet, just barely, but it felt ominous as she loomed over it from the opposite side.

“Mommy, this isn’t fair!” she answered, giving a meek little whine. She hated that she felt her skin getting flush at the prospect, her arousal fighting with her anger in her throbbing skull. “I didn’t–”

“Scarlet, baby, this isn’t a punishment,” Emilia said. She was trying to head off what she imagined her concerns to be, but she was missing the point, she wasn’t letting her talk.

“It better not be, because I didn’t do anything!” Scarlet paused, closed her eyes and took a quick breath, trying to force herself not to yell.

Just as much of her had wanted to give in initially. But being talked over, the mention of punishment, the throbbing in her skull, maybe even just the audacity of the act in question? It was too much. Take your pick of which, or maybe all of them combined.

She let her anger speak.

“Is this what you do, plot all weekend on how to domme your employees? How many times have you done that before?”

Both women blinked in recognition at what was actually happening, the words hanging in the air.

“Miss Kane, I’m sorry,” Scarlet scrambled again, the second time in fifteen minutes to avoid catastrophe in Emilia’s office.

“I…can see why you thought that.” Emilia looked at the diaper, pensive. Scarlet couldn’t tell if it had hurt the way she’d wanted to in her anger.

She hoped more than anything before that she was wrong.

“I didn’t mean it. I just–”

“You’re fine to be overwhelmed, dear,” Emilia supplied when Scarlet couldn’t finish her own thought. She didn’t seem hurt, but Scarlet heard words she’d been dreading; “Does this mean you’re done?” Emilia turned back to her, looking more like she’d had an appointment cancel at the last minute, than the end of a relationship.

“No!” she pleaded.  It was so frustrating how she couldn’t manage to talk her way out of anything with Emilia. “No, not at all. I…” Scarlet cringed to herself. She’d done it again, stuck her foot in her mouth in anger. It was almost worse that this could be attributed to her medication slip, like she’d relapsed on her deplorable habits in more ways than one. “I take it back. I felt backed into a corner and I tried being hurtful. I’ve been miserable all day from missing one of my prescriptions and-” she sighed in frustration at herself, but was blocked from continuing.

“Easy, easy, no harm no foul, dear-” Emilia cut her off, preempting the onsetting ramble. “We’ll dissect that issue with your medication another time. It takes much more to wound me than that. Are you okay?”

The sudden tenderness in Emilia’s voice confused her, unsure of, yet again, why Emilia had deemed her so easily forgiven again.

“That…that’s what you’re worried about?” She finally landed on, feeling dumb. “Yeah, I'll be okay. I don’t get how I’m more upset about this than you are.”

“Being upset at a little verbal barb wouldn’t have helped,” Emilia said, sitting at her desk. “I think you can make it up to me by getting on the desk unless you’re tapping out.”

Scarlet blinked.

“And the answer is ‘no,’ I’ve never dated a subordinate. Colleagues, but not coworkers, and that was before I was a domme.” The small triumphant smile gave away that she truly hadn’t been hurt. Hell, she probably took it as a compliment, I improvised something so devilish that you assumed I was a practiced hand.

“Oh.” Scarlet was always verbose and collected in these moments.

She felt like she had shrunk in place, her blush returning despite herself. Emilia really didn’t care. She was able to handle Scarlet at her worst, most destructive tendencies.

She can handle me, she shivered, the realization washing over her like the cold fall winds. She could be physically overpowered, outwitted, go blow for blow in quips, and do her absolute worst. Emilia would be on top no matter what. Scarlet felt her skin grow flush again at the notion.

“Now, if that’s all settled, and you’re ready to be my good girl again? Up up!” Emilia sang, pointing at the desk before her. Scarlet took a shaky step to obey, earning a cooing, adoring look from her girlfriend. “That’s my good girl, much better!”

Scarlet was lowering herself onto the desk when Emilia continued, “Just remember, the longer you protest, the better the chance they will hear you.” Her domme pointed to the computer screen, and a small security camera feed showed two people in front of the office. Scarlet’s eyes went wide as she recognized Chris and Lila opening the front door.

[ezithemuse]

 

[16- a woman that wants you]

There is terror in relying on another, no matter how intimate your history. A fear of being dropped. 

Dizzying, spinning, from familiar heights; too high, too far to fall again. 

Scarlet’s heart pounded in her chest, blood loud in her ears. Her boss removed her panties, then grabbed her ankles in one hand and lifted, and the girl pursed the lips on her blushing face, trying to contain the whimpering sounds she was making.

Every crinkle, every plastic sound was a firecracker to Scarlet’s senses. She could only make it easier on herself if she didn’t resist, lying back and blushing a bright, furious red. Emilia had once again backed her into a perilous trap that would expose her to strangers. It took all Scarlet’s willpower, in combination with flexed toes and calves, to keep her genitalia from giving away how much it thrilled her. Her efforts worked; between her cheeks and her legs, there wasn’t any blood to divert to arousal. 

Given the company in the office waiting room, she needed to remain silent to keep attention off of her. Not Emilia’s attention, that is—Scarlet couldn’t escape the amber-gold eyes that doted on her now, flicking between the nonchalance of doing dishes and a devilish grin whenever she had to remind Scarlet in a whispered voice, “Don’t hide that pretty face from mommy. Hold your skirt up if you need something to do with your hands, bunny.” Scarlet’s shaky hands complied.

She needed to avoid the attention of the couple in the waiting room, whispering to each other, unaware Scarlet could still see them while being changed, the CCTV feed visible from her spot lying back on Emilia’s desk. Lila never really settled completely in the office chair, but Chris sat back with one foot on his knee, looking like he owned the place. 

Scarlet couldn’t calm down, every instinct telling her to run, to not give up control to Emilia, to not allow herself—

Scarlet shivered, and her torturer cooed down at her, “Aww, don’t worry. We’ll get you covered up again just as soon as we can.” Emilia’s eyes gleamed and her teeth flickered in the light as she smirked. Scarlet saw Emilia’s own cheeks grow a small flush, noticed her breathing speed up. Emilia was getting off to her squirming and blushing, trapped by the scheme of her own invention to humiliate Scarlet. 

The younger woman quivered again, the whimper escaping this time. She recalled the story of a woman butchered in her apartment, her neighbors unable to hear the torment even through the thin walls. Part of her wanted to tempt fate, to play up her enjoyment and make Emilia breathe even faster. 

Scarlet finally took a shaky breath as Emilia brought the thick diaper up between her legs. She hadn’t even noticed her ankles being released from her girlfriend’s grip, nor that she’d been powdered, yet the delicate but inescapable scent of talc wafted in the air. She tried taking square breaths, trying not to think about if the smell would be obvious to their clients, while Emilia began taping the thick white plastic around her crotch and replacing Scarlet’s tights. Satisfied with a job well done, Emilia gave Scarlet’s sensitive crotch a gentle pat through the diaper. Scarlet winced at the touch, sudden and reactive nerve endings jolted awake despite her best efforts and the puffy underwear between Emilia’s skin and hers. 

She glowered up at the taller woman, making Emilia chuckle in satisfaction before offering a hand up..

“You are adorable when you get fussy. We should do this more often,” Emilia teased, all the while fixing Scarlet’s skirt and brushing away stray baby powder with a tender hand. “If you’re ready, you can bring back Christopher and Lila. Can you be a big girl for me?” Emilia was laying it on extra thick, goading Scarlet.

Trying to get me to embarrass myself in front of clients?

Emilia must have read the dawning on Scarlet’s face, and merely smirked with a raised eyebrow, daring her. 

Scarlet wrinkled her brow at the continued teasing, silent frustration rolling off her like a wave of heat. Emilia’s eyes grew soft, both patronizing and tender, like she was watching a puppy’s first growl. Scarlet’s mind scrambled for a retort. She found one, then hesitated, and thought better of letting her words get her in trouble. Again. She departed the office with a gesture befitting her treatment; sticking her tongue out and flipping the bird.

She closed the door just in time to muffle Emilia’s laughter, loud and high, like birdsong. The relief melted the tension in her shoulders as she walked,  only to be unsettled by the crinkling beneath her tights and loose skirt. She had to remind herself how no one could hear her disposable underwear when Emilia took her grocery shopping, but it still might as well have been a jet engine in the long hallway. 

“Mr Arnold, Ms Smith? Thank you for waiting, Miss Kane will see you now.”

* * *

Everyone sat in their same seats, like their previous week’s meeting had merely been a rehearsal that the four of them now continued. Emilia opened and thumbed through an identical folder, even wearing the same platinum studded earrings as last time, just as Christopher wore the same jacket. Lila had a different coat at least, but one that was still just a touch too big but just as expensive. Scarlet had to look down to make sure she hadn’t worn the same outfit as well. Something about the uncanny repetition made Scarlet’s head throb again. She almost felt her body slip away from her, but imagined her ancient laptop as an anchor that chained her to her body, keeping her attached to what was real. Déjà vu was one thing, but she couldn’t afford an actual out-of-body experience while working.

“So here is the amended copy of your previous contract, everything should be exactly as we discussed, but I needed to edit the language to be specific and consistent. There’s highlights and tabs on all of those changes,” Emilia’s voice had the same courteous, professional tone with the hint of her posh, melodic cadence that Scarlet had been hearing all day, every day since she’d moved to Caulfield Valley. She sounded like she was reading fun facts from a trivia card, not like the woman who just got them both flustered enough that Scarlet had to actively prevent herself from getting turned on. She could convince herself it had just been a dream, or that what was happening right in front of her wasn’t real and she’d float away on the next cold breeze, if only she couldn’t feel the extra padding beneath her skirt.

Scarlet blinked back to the waking world when Emilia stood to pass the folder to the blonde couple across from her desk. “There’s obviously still room for final changes if you two have reconsidered any of the topics we left open last time. 

“However, since you were fairly settled on the actual design of the contract, I started a model to let you see it in person.” The thicker cardstock gave a deeper warble than the folders as it was passed, but Scarlet got a chance to see its contents as Chris placed it on a small table between himself and Lila, a giddy grin spreading on the small woman’s face. It was the first time Scarlet had seen the young woman do something other than nervously blush, and her dimples framed a beautiful, bright grin.

Thick, deep gold ink with strong, steady lines made up a headline, perhaps like the university name on a diploma, or the heading of a birth certificate, and bolded black writing in neat lines lay beneath it. It was too far for Scarlet to read, but she made the connection, remembering Emilia’s gold pen and the craft project after Scarlet’s little meltdown. 

She really does that shit by hand?

Chris took the document, passing the cover to Lila and gawking at the second page. Lila took the paper in her hands, holding it like antiqued stained glass–something crafted so impossibly beautiful, so delicate that it was hard to believe it was made by a person. This second page mirrored the first’s small black ink, numbered in a list, making Scarlet recall her own rules with Emilia. Cresting the top of both pages was a small drawing that she could only distinguish as a small bow and arrow, a heart shaped arrowhead placed across the arch with a dainty grace. It wasn’t a weapon drawn for violence, but ornamentation. 

Scarlet was awash with respect at the craft itself, Emilia’s capabilities, as well as a strange sort of connection with Lila and Chris. Though they didn’t know it, Scarlet was more like them now than she ever could’ve imagined during their first meeting. Their contract, once something so incredible and foreign to the young woman, was now something she too was working on with the very woman that brokered their terms. 

“—one more time to make sure Miss Finch can record it?” Emilia’s voice pulled Scarlet out of her awe.

She could hear the subtle point in Emilia’s tone: Come back to reality while we work. The younger woman couldn’t help but blush as she straightened her back, correcting the slouch she didn’t know she’d started. They’d already moved on from examining the model contract. 

Lila stammered for a moment, and Chris chimed in when she couldn’t, though not without the vaguest hint of a blush himself. “We’ve backed off from diapers 24/7. I’m not really into that, and they aren’t very practical when you consider wearing them full time means using them full time. We don’t want to deal with messing like that.”

Lila and Scarlet matched blushes, though Scarlet had the wherewithal to hide hers as she heard Emilia clear her throat, shifting the room’s focus. 

“Noted. Did you get it that time, Miss Finch?” The jab to Scarlet felt too obvious. In her mind, Scarlet was sure the other couple could read the intent of her boss in an instant, divining Scarlet’s secret interest that she’d developed since last seeing them both. It taunted Scarlet for both previously spacing out and at the implication, making Scarlet’s face burn with embarrassment just as the concept of a messy diaper had the weekend prior. 

She tried to keep her voice even as she answered, “Yes ma’am.” That was all that was needed, despite the shake in her hands and her confidence both. She told herself panicking would accomplish nothing except draw more attention to herself. She knew better than to trust her immediate emotional response to embarrassment, given how handy Emilia was at twisting Scarlet’s desperation back around on her.  

“And as such, we’re also reducing the ‘Plug Clause’ to once a week or at our agreement. Still having some of the routine and order, while also allowing us to be spontaneous.” Chris never quite returned back to his relaxed posture Scarlet had seen from the CCTV. He no longer had the air of assumed control. He was playing at being collected, yet the topic, or perhaps the fact he had to go back on his confidence from last week, made it clear he was no longer entirely in control.

He conceded that point to Lila, didn’t he? Scarlet thought before shaking her head and focusing on her note taking. The negotiations weren’t supposed to be a contest according to Emilia. Chris is treating it like one anyway. 

“That’s all of our marked points,” Emilia said, leaning back in her chair and marking off one last spot inside her folder, bright red sharpie in hand. “Are there any other modifications we’re considering?” Her eyebrow rose, expectation building as she watched between the two.

“Yes!” Lila squeaked from her chair, the loudest Scarlet had ever heard her speak but still softer than everyone else in the small office. She wrapped her arm around Chris’, hanging on to it as she leaned forward with a sparkle in her eye. “We found someone to do a day collar for me, and we’re going to include that.”

The fuck is that? Scarlet wanted to ponder, before realizing she’d actually typed ‘the fuck is that’ on a document her boss would eventually see. She worked quickly to edit her work and try to listen to the discussion. 

“Oh?” Emilia’s voice betrayed her attempt at disinterest. 

Chris leaned forward and locked eyes with Emilia. “And I’m quite impressed with the quality. There are good designers, and then there’s this guy. I’d be happy to introduce you, you have to see his work,” he explained, the two of them beaming. They stopped just shy of gushing like they had a crush on this mystery man. 

“I’d be open to that, Christopher,” Emilia answered, fingers interlocked under her chin in thought. It was impossible to tell if she was politely entertaining their excitement, or if she was sincere. Emilia’s thoughtful eyes didn’t leave the giddy couple. She tried to redirect them to business, “So that would be item…fourteen, correct?” 

Lila nodded, and Chris concurred. “It’s probably simplest, doesn’t disrupt the layout of the other pages you showed us.”

“I would start again from Square One if you two wanted,” Emilia waved her hand as she spoke, dismissing his concern and shooing it away. “The two of you want something special, and I provide a service to help make sure that you get exactly what you want. If I were printing something mundane, something innocuous, sure. I’d want to save the ink too.

“But that’s not what this is. This isn’t the negotiation of a corporate merger. This is your pledge together, to each other. I will make something that is as concrete, serious, and worthy of the veneration you two hold for your dynamic. It is more than worth my time to get it exactly perfect.”

The happy couple nodded, and Scarlet typed away as quiet as she could. This had the gravity of a marriage certificate to Lila and Chris, and she’d made hers with Emilia over a weekend. The stereotype about sapphics is that they fall hard and move fast. Was Scarlet throwing herself at the first person to want her? Was she not taking this seriously enough? Was Emilia?

Within the hour they were done. The happy couple smiled, Lila bouncing in her seat in celebration as decisions were finalized. Emilia’s calligraphed model contract was passed around a final time with notes in bright red pen, and Scarlet’s notes were bursting with new words she would need to find online; shibari, harness, inspections, and something about “submissive posture”. Lila sat with a straight enough back that Scarlet knew it meant something else.

Scarlet could only speculate, but the care with which Lila and Chris talked about this contract, it may as well be their marriage certificate. She made a mental note to ask about this hobby later, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d either gone in over her head, or somehow dug the ground out from under something that deserved better care than she gave it.

The conversation slowed as the sun started to turn golden orange, the magic hour signaling the end of their meeting alongside Emilia’s alarm. 

“Did we forget anything?” Chris questioned before standing, placing his jacket over one arm and helping Lila up with the other. 

“I believe that’s everything on the business end. I suspect you’ve got other questions however.”

“You know me too well.”

“It’s only been a decade at this point, Christopher, give me some credit. Are you going to ask about next month’s potluck?” Emilia leaned back, eyes betraying only the smallest hint of exhaustion setting in. The whole room had been a honed and focused machine, despite the bizarre subject matter.

A long day at the office. Clients wouldn’t agree on how often remote controlled vibrators are going to be involved, Scarlet mused. 

 “You do know me. Yes, I was wondering if you were coming at all, let alone had a date. It’s been a while since—” 

“I am,” Emilia cut in, the only change in her demeanor that Scarlet could detect were the daggers in her eyes and the tense line her lips formed. “I will be there. A date can be procured but I fear I won’t be bringing any pastries at all. I’m more interested in seeing my old friends than I am in baking.”

Scarlet hesitated, seeing confused faces all around. Lila, like Scarlet, could tell the discussion was something Chris and Emilia didn’t want at least one of them to hear. Judging by the look on Christopher’s face, however, he wasn’t quite following along either. 

“Well, feel free to bring the dishes then,” Chris was stuck in thoughtful looks. Scarlet could tell he was piecing together his coded responses on the fly. “Are baking and the potluck somewhat…mutually exclusive?” he asked, his hand gesturing as he translated on the spot. “At least for the time being?”

“I may have found a new recipe I’d like to try,” Emilia confessed, nodding in thought as she spoke without meeting Chris’ gaze until she continued. She didn’t need the buffer time he apparently did. “I would rather like to practice making it before I show off to everyone.”

Scarlet was torn between active resentment at being talked over and anxiety about the subject matter. What could be so secretive that they couldn’t discuss this after describing how often Chris and Lila used long term butt plugs? The magnitude of importance unnerved her. 

“A new Red Velvet Cake?”

“Angel Food cake, actually. I obtained the recipe, then some advice from Damian and Annalise.”

“I’ve always thought of you as the one giving advice.”

“I’m still working my way up to miracles. Once I do, I’ll let you know.” 

Chris sighed, then let out a breathy half-chuckle as he stood. “I think that’s all of our time then, Lila. We’ll pick up the contract on…?” 

“I’ll drop it off the instant it’s done, expect it at your door.” Emilia had drifted in her chair, completely turned away from her clients as she spoke over her shoulder. “I don’t trust couriers with something this important.”

“And that new recipe? Scarlet, have you tried it?” Chris looked expectantly to her even as he helped Lila into her coat, the smaller woman almost swallowed by it. 

“I’m…no?” She cringed at herself. To call her befuddled response an answer was generous. 

“So you don’t have any interest in a picnic? Maybe a buffet–” 

“Yes, Christopher, I was going to have her try it. Are you happy now?” The groan was evident in her voice, but as if for emphasis, Emilia leaned back in her chair, her annoyed reflection barely visible in the window she now faced.     

“I’m lost. This was…a cake? You can’t expect—” Scarlet wasn’t given time to voice her frustrations. She’d been shoved into the spotlight after being talked around like she wasn’t there, combined with the pair’s attempts at talking in code as if to mock her. Her anger threatened to flare again. 

Emilia pinched the skin between her eyebrows. “The potluck is a long way off, Scarlet. I wanted you to meet my friends, assuming you felt up to it and the venue wasn’t too…bougie for you. I wanted to wait to discuss it, that’s all.”  

Lila met Scarlet’s gaze, a similar trepidation on her face. She pleaded with her eyes, more afraid of the context than Scarlet’s anger. The girl opened her mouth as if to speak her mind, stopped, then finally forced the words out with a crack in her voice, “If you want, Mistr—um, Miss Kane, I’d be happy to um…bake with her?”

Christopher and Emilia both turned to look at Lila, Emilia spinning in her chair like a supervillain to face her. Lila’s eyes met Emilia and Chris’ each, then nodded to them. Scarlet could tell the other young woman wasn’t quite as lost as herself. Lila didn’t like being talked around either, and perhaps she was looking out for Scarlet. 

“Lila is very good at making angel food cake and more. Quite the little baker!” Chris nodded as he spoke, agreeing to something that still eluded Scarlet.

Emilia’s thoughtful look returned, eyes locking on Scarlet. The younger woman felt her spine go rigid as she sat up, feeling like she was about to be punished despite the present company.

Emilia’s silence lingered, looming over the room until she freed Scarlet from the quiet tension. “Saturday, ten o’clock?” 

“It’ll be a fun little playdate.” 

* * *

The door clicked closed behind Lila and Chris, and Scarlet spun on her heel to storm back to the office.

“Care to let me in on this one? I don’t like being—”

“Told what to do?” Emilia let the corners of her mouth curl, her dimples appearing with her smile, eyes half closed like she needed to sleep for twelve hours straight. “You could’ve fooled me, princess.”

“Emilia, this isn’t fair!” Scarlet rolled her eyes at Emilia perking up, ready to pounce. “And no, I don’t need a title because it sure sounded to me like rule fucking one got broken in there!”

Emilia closed her mouth, blinking at Scarlet. Almost like she was impressed. For some reason that still made Scarlet happy. She’d actually avoided a rule infraction given the context, and made her girlfriend proud.

“I didn’t put you in danger, dear,” Emilia explained, leaning back slowly in her chair. The powerful expert domme wasn’t operating at full power, worn down by a long day and having the air taken out of her sail by Chris. 

“Really?” Scarlet crossed her arms, squeezing herself until almost white knuckle. Maybe the pain would help her focus and decide between seething or explosive fury. “Was I supposed to gather that when you were talking about cakes? ‘Cause for all I know, you just gave me to them for some, like,” she stammered, floundering to explain her fear. She didn’t want to believe Emilia had somehow given the couple permission to dominate her, or traded her away like property. She blinked, shaking her head and realizing those weren’t likely. 

“Speak your mind.”

When you’re honest, I feel safe. You’re not being honest.

“I don’t like being talked around like I’m stupid, that’s what’s on my mind,” she spat the words out before her feelings betrayed her further. 

“You aren’t stupid. The ‘code’ isn’t so that you can never understand. We did have a bit of fun at the expense of Lila and you, however.” Emilia’s small smile hadn’t left her mouth, and it stiffened here, looking unnatural for an instant. It could’ve been a mask or the real her, and Scarlet couldn’t tell which was scarier. 

“That’s not a great way to treat an employee, let alone your girlfriend.”

“It is an excellent way to tease my submissive, however.” Emilia giggled at Scarlet’s pout, even as the joke made them both soften. “I do apologize, though. Chris wasn’t supposed to bring anything of the sort up before I was ready to explain in detail. I wasn’t trying to hide anything, just avoid overwhelming you. And he wasn’t exactly gentlemanly with you.”

“Explain what in detail?” Scarlet pleaded. She found some validation in Emilia’s apology and explanation, but not enough to stop her from feeling lost.

“The potluck is an event with friends like Chris and Lila. Couples with dynamics like ours, either friends of mine or other couples I've counseled for in the past.”

Scarlet looked to Emilia with more confusion before a few revelations struck. “Wait…so you would’ve invited me to that, and Chris…Chris knows we’re dating?”

“He could’ve put that together. Specifically he knows you’re my submissive.”

The two weren’t interchangeable. The implication wasn’t lost on her. 

“Why? What else does he know? Did you tell him?”

Emilia sighed. “I’m sorry. I confirmed it to stop him from getting any cruder. I trust the man with my life but he wasn’t exactly full of social graces when we met and hasn’t gotten any more tactful.” She stood up from her office chair, walking to the front of her desk. Scarlet resisted the urge to reach out, even as the taller woman was within arm’s length.

“So he was being gross about me? What did he say?” The frustration of not knowing weighed on her.

“He was trying to make a stupid joke at your expense. He’s a chauvinist but he’s my age, not a frat boy. To be completely transparent, he knows you’re my submissive, a Little, and Lila invited you over. I’m not ordering you to do anything, and I wouldn’t have agreed if I thought he would do anything to make you uncomfortable.”

She was lost as to how to feel. Indignant? Frustrated, surely. It was comforting that Emilia was looking out for her, but it had been Emilia who introduced the man to begin with. “So what am I supposed to do? What would I even do over there? Is this…is this a sex thing?”

“No, no,” Emilia held back a laugh, and Scarlet blinked back a pang of hurt. Emilia noticed the change immediately, softening. She could tell Scarlet was feeling the acute, anxious pressure of the unknown but found the idea preposterous.

“No, dear,” she repeated, gentle and understanding. “Nothing like that. We aren’t the type.”

Scarlet tried to fight how Emilia’s simple change in tone made her feel so much safer. She still felt small, but unlike before, she wasn’t being dangled over the lions. She was experiencing the barest hint of being cared for. She sniffled before she spoke,“The Eyes Wide Shut type? I bet you’ve got a mask somewhere.”

Emilia smiled at the joke before leaning back to sit on the edge of her desk, thinking. 

“I’m not ordering you to do anything. I’m not even going to force you to go over. But Lila wanted to host you, and I’d like you to go, if only to make a friend in town. You don’t have to do anything there that makes you uncomfortable, okay? This isn’t the same as calling red to one of my instructions.”

When Scarlet didn’t respond, Emilia changed her approach. “You didn’t make a contract with Christopher did you?”

Scarlet shook her head, blushing at the change in tone again.

Emilia went on, layering the mommy voice on further, “And you didn’t make rules with Lila, correct?”

“No, ma’am.” Scarlet’s voice cracked, so soft it didn’t even carry.

“Then who did you make a contract with?” Emilia smiled, her voice even softer, still patronizing, but tender, like practicing flash cards with a small child.

“You, mommy.” Her blush grew tenfold as she said the words out loud. There was something so humiliating and exciting about it; being talked down to, pushed to talk like that, and wearing a diaper under her work clothes. She felt lightheaded for a moment, then saw Emilia’s amber-gold eyes, a sunset through crystals, locked on her.

Scarlet looked away, still feeling small and stupid at needing the explanation and the comforting. Her boss opened her arms and the shorter woman pressed her face against Emilia’s shoulder, hands softly resting on her boss’ collarbones. “It’s not some orgy thing? She just wants to have lunch or something?”

“Exactly, princess. And anything beyond that you two have to agree on.” Emilia shifted to hold Scarlet, still leaning against her desk but now with Scarlet standing between her legs. 

“Like what?” Scarlet still couldn’t look up at her girlfriend, trying to soothe herself and save from trembling in Emilia’s arms.

“Coloring and playing with dolls, whatever Littles do together,” Emilia giggled at Scarlet’s expense again. The girl gave a halfhearted stomp of frustration, her body too electrified and nervous to accept any more laughing against her. “I tease. Scarlet, you’ve heard her contract, she’s got Little-type interests. I suspect that if you ask her, she’d talk to you about all of that, since you already know how often Christopher puts her butt plug in.”

“Ew,” she deadpanned. Both women were aware of the unspoken hypocrisy of the supposed disgust when it was coming from the girl who had grown a recent interest in pissing herself.

“I just mean that she’s much more experienced in this than you, and she is probably going to be able to answer any questions about the submissive side of the experience. You don’t have to decide yes or no right this second. But I do think it would be fun for you to have a little playdate.”

“Yes mommy,” Scarlet rolled her eyes as she answered, still hidden by virtue of her face being pressed into Emilia’s skin.

“I felt that, bunny.”

Scarlet giggled at being caught, and was rewarded with a light slap on her padded butt.

“I promised I’d take care of you. I won’t let this happen again,” Emilia whispered once Scarlet had come to rest against her once more.

“You super promise?” Scarlet didn’t know where the juvenile phrase had come from, but it felt right to ask. In the moment, it had the gravity of how serious they were when making their rules, how solemn a vow Lila and Christopher had made.

“I’ll do you one better: It’s a super mommy promise. Unbreakable, on pain of death,” Emilia tried to look resolute and noble, but both women giggled and broke the facade. “And you promise to be good on your playdate, princess?”

Scarlet took her cue and ran with it. 

“Super princess promise.”

“Good girl.”