11- come nervous brave

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Momma, huh?”

Scarlet raised an eyebrow.

“Adorable. Do you know what that means?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And after you promised me no more technicalities.”

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

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

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

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

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

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