12- and they will be simple

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Emilia’s hand never came down.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Scarlet swallowed, closing the book again with a snap.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Scarlet merely gave a nod, silent again.

“Are you getting those feelings again?”

Another nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You are more than welcome.”

Emilia leaned in too, and their lips met.