6- both rose and solferina.

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

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

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

Emilia raised an eyebrow.

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

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

Scarlet met her smile and sparked the lighter.

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

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

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

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

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

I…want to be genuine?

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

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

“You have a home office?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There is terror in being known. To being vulnerable.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s, ‘Yes, Mommy.’”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh…Emilia?”

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

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

“Yes, my princess?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s my good girl.”

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