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Emma has never been to a Build-a-Bear in her life.
Her family just wasn’t that type. Stuffed toys, dolls, things like that— too expensive for what they were, useless objects. If she wanted to occupy her time, she could read her Bible or help her Mama out around the house. She could dig in the garden outside or roughhouse with her brothers. The only girl in a household of all older brothers, she didn’t get very many soft or pretty things.
That doesn’t mean she didn’t want them. She indulges much more often, now, now that she has her own money. Little figurines and keychains and stuffies, silly, stupid things. She tells herself that, over and over, that it’s stupid. Rarely does she give into the part of herself that’s forever small without feeling shame curl through the slats of her ribs.
Dana makes her feel small. Hopelessly, helplessly small. Wide-eyed and trailing after the older woman on her first day like a lost lamb, her entire body on alert, anxiety swirling into something different, something that pulses between her legs. She was scared of Dana, at first, is scared of her, in a way. In a very addicting way.
Dana is gentle with her, and her specifically. Emma tries not to let it go to her head, but it does… oh, it does. Watching Dana protect her, defend her, care for her. Ream an unruly patient out and then turn to her with warm, gentle hands, asking you alright, kid? You hurt? And Emma always shakes her head no, and Dana checks her over anyways, and Emma can’t pretend she doesn’t want Dana’s hands on her forever.
The night that Dana touched her just the way Emma had been craving for months was the night when Dana relapsed on cigarettes. Emma remembers it well, walking out to the ambulance bay with her jacket on— a soft pink one, that day— and smelling the curl of cigarette smoke before she saw it, spearing out of the side of Dana’s mouth.
"You should put it out," Emma had said, soft, a little worried. Noticing how good Dana looks as she puffs on the cigarette, scolding herself for it. Dana’s health is what matters, not her stupid crush she’d been trying so hard to ignore. Dana had only laughed, though, taken another drag. "Tryin’ t’tell me what to do, kid? What’s best for me? Cute. You’d make a good charge nurse, pair o’ nuts like that."
Emma had faltered, hands clutching to the straps of her backpack, stomach swooping with nerves and heat. Dana wasn’t usually that snappy with her, not usually so condescending. It had settled in the twitch of Emma’s clit underneath her scrub bottoms. She remembers hoping Dana couldn’t tell how much of a fucking pervert she is.
Dana had sighed, shook her head, stepped away from where she was leaning against the ruddy brick of PTMC. She’d held the three-quarters smoked cigarette out with a raised brow, side of her mouth pulled into a tired smirk, eyes betraying her. Watery, Emma had noticed. Exhausted.
Emma had taken the cigarette, and instead of putting it out immediately, she brought it to her own lips, taken the final drag. Slow and long, shoulders loosening as the nicotine filled her lungs, sighed back out. Then she’d dropped the cigarette and snubbed it out with the heel of one of her pink sneakers, (to match her jacket of the day.) Emma had tried and failed not to think about her mouth touching where Dana’s mouth had just been.
Dana had scoffed, impressed and disappointed all at once. "You smoke, kid? Those things’ll kill ya," she followed up, wry, parroting the sentiment she’d heard herself a million times. Emma could sense the worry underneath it. The look in Dana’s eyes that had said you’re too young for this, it’s already too late for me, it’s not too late for you. Emma had only shrugged. "I grew up with all older brothers, I’ve had a few. Only a few, though."
Dana had tilted her head at Emma then, cut her budding stability out at the knees with a drag of her eyes, up and down Emma’s body. Emma felt shaky and small all over again, seen, exposed, desperate. Dana had hummed "only a few, huh, kid? Why don’t we keep it that way, okay?"
"Yes ma’am," Emma had breathed, eyes wide, shoulders tensing as Dana had stepped closer, closing in like a predator. It had fit perfectly, still fits, with that little nickname she’d been dubbed as on her first day. Lost lamb. She had felt it then, still often feels it now. Like prey, like something small and soft to be taken into Dana’s maw. A wolf that never attacked her, only protected. A wolf that could attack her whenever it wanted.
M’not stupid, kid, Dana had murmured, managing to look down at Emma as she always does, even though Dana’s only a half-inch above her. Where Emma cowers, Dana makes herself tall. S’okay to have a crush, sweetpea, you’re hardly the first. Just don’t expect anything to come of it, alright? Can’t lead ya on like that.
I— I know! Emma had been indignant, embarrassed, was she really that obvious? God, it was like seeing herself through a third person view, replaying events in her mind, ones where she was all blushy and stuttery and eager.
But Dana, despite saying she hadn’t wanted to lead her on, despite rejecting her, offered her a ride home. Emma had readily accepted it.
Dana’s rejection hadn’t stuck. Not when she was still twitchy and irritable after a bad shift, tapping her fingers against the steering wheel as she had driven Emma back to her apartment. Not when that twitchiness had made Emma feel guilty for ruining Dana’s first cigarette, so she offered her another, meek, lit it up for her, held it up to her lips. Not when Dana walked her up, came inside when Emma offered a soda this time instead of yet another cigarette, a cool beverage for the road.
"I should go, kiddo, but thanks, for the offer—"
"My roommate’s at her boyfriend’s! So it’s, um, no trouble to bring you up for a sec. Least I could do for the ride."
Dana’s rejection hadn’t stuck when she had let herself be convinced.
Not when Emma had taken a sip of it before handing it over, feigning innocence, begging with her eyes. Not when Dana had fallen for all that bait, hook, line, sinker.
Dana’s hands had felt so good, that night, sliding under her scrub top, skin on skin. Her guilt palpable and her want overpowering it. Dana had murmured "can’t tell anyone about this, kiddo, not a soul, okay? Gotta keep it between us, sweetheart. You can do that f’me, can’t you? Be a good girl and stay quiet?"
Emma hadn’t cared, didn’t care, doesn’t care. She’ll be a perverted secret of the charge nurse as long as that charge nurse never stops touching her.
Dana makes her feel small, and Dana loves giving her soft things, and Dana is taking her to Build-a-Bear for the first time. Dana tells her that her stuffies aren’t stupid, that’s she’s the cutest, sweetest little girl. Dana fucks her in her soft, girlish bed.
Emma hadn’t even meant for it to slip out, the first time, whimpering Mommy, please— underneath the older woman, desperate for that care, to be Dana’s baby girl. All Dana’s done since then is lean into it. Let Emma be small.
Like now, with Emma’s fingers intertwining with Dana’s, clinging to her hand. The store is bright and colorful and a little overwhelming, a little embarrassing. She wants to be here but she hates the thought of being seen here, being seen wanting something meant for little kids when she’s supposed to be past that. Dana squeezes her hand and Emma’s shoulders loosen, just a bit. There’s other adults in here, anyways. It’s just a stuffed animal. Not everyone is as quick to condemn people to weakness as her family was.
She feels bad, for thinking bad about her family, sometimes. They really weren’t so awful. Normal… normalish. Nice enough, and she knows they love her and she loves them back. Maybe Emma’s just been too sensitive. She often feels it.
She feels it now, shrinking a little, hiding half-behind Dana after she picks out her stuffie— a plain white bear, soft and classic and something that reminds her of Dana, (good choice, kiddo)— letting Dana take the lead with the attendant.
The attendant who then asks “Would you like to record a sound today?” And Emma expects Dana to say no, doesn’t need all those extras, frills, additional costs. She already knows it’ll be on Dana’s card and she already feels a little tinge of guilt for it. Dana’s reassured her time and time again that she likes spoiling Emma, likes to spend money on her, and Emma tries to believe it, she really does. She’s just never been the type of person that takes up space.
Dana doesn’t say no. “Sure, why not? I just— speak into it, right here? Yup, okay, got it.” Dana and the attending are talking and agreeing and Dana’s leaning into record a little message for Emma’s stuffie.
Mommy loves you!
Emma’s cheeks flush hot, breath catching, fighting the urge to squirm where she stands. Embarrassment and, even though she mentally kicks herself for it, arousal slip fiery into her bloodstream, eyes wide as she looks to Dana.
The attendant grins wide and customer-service-nice, “Aww, are you two having a little mother-daughter date? That’s so fun! Come over here and we can get this little guy stuffed.”
Emma doesn’t think about it too often, shoves it to the back of her mind, pretends she’s not guilty, that she doesn’t hear echoes of prayer and condemnation, that she doesn’t need to beg God for forgiveness. But she does, she does, she does. Emma thinks she loves Dana and she’s pretty sure she hates herself.
She can’t fault the worker, not with the stark age gap, Dana’s wrinkles that she so adores next to Emma’s smooth skin. They look nothing alike, but it’s the only comfortable explanation. Emma is Dana’s little girl.
In a perverse way, it’s completely true. In a perverse way, Emma loves it. In a perverse way, it feels so, so good.
They get the bear stuffed, soft or firm?, and Emma is a little shaky as her foot presses on the pedal, watching the plush inflate. Anxiety still has her chest in knots, but excitement curls her lips up in a hesitant grin, nodding a yes, that’s perfect, thanks, when she gives the bear a test squeeze.
She refuses the heart ceremony, politely, too embarrassed to make herself go through with it. Dana squeezes her shoulder, comforting— motherly, in a sense. Emma shouldn’t think like that. She’s never had very good control over her thoughts.
“Sorry,” Emma murmurs, as they walk to the clothes, clutching her bear, cheeks still hot. She’s not being good. Dana took her here, Dana’s putting it on her card, and she’s not even getting the full experience, too self-conscious. She’s a waste of time and money. It sinks in her stomach, pulls her eyebrows together, earnest and sad.
Dana chuckles, wraps an arm around her shoulders, jostling her lightly. It’s warm, familiar. “Don’t apologize, kiddo, this is for you. Ya know that? All for you, hon. Which means you get to enjoy it however you want.”
Emma nods, takes a deep breath, lets tension slough off her shoulders. This is for her. Mommy loves her. She knows that, always knows it, even when Dana pulls away. Even when Dana touches her just a little less, polite and distant, when they’re at work. Favors her just a little less. Tries not to make them obvious, tries to stay inconspicuous, because after all, Emma is still her secret. And it feels cold, slimy and degrading— and then it feels wonderful, Dana murmuring God, babydoll, was so hard to keep my hands off of ya… and kissing it better, in her car after shift.
The bear’s outfit is an easy decision. The nurse scrubs, blue and not at all a shade they’ve ever worn, but reminding Emma of Dana all the same. She skips the name, doesn’t want the certificate, and also… is a little embarrassed that she’d name it Mommy. It’s Dana, really. A bear version of her to watch over her and keep her safe whenever Dana can’t.
Emma feels awfully childish.
They check out, Dana handling the talking and the payment, making Emma feel even more childish, shy. She’s confident, she can be confident, she knows she can be. Dana just… has a way of making her feel like this. Small. Untethered. Desperately needing Dana as a tether.
“What do you say, baby?” Dana hums under her breath, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to guide her out.
Emma’s cheeks heat again, eyes flicking downwards. She murmurs a soft, barely audible “thank you, Mommy.”
“That’s my girl.”
…
Emma’s bed is soft and comfortable and empty.
Not really, if she’s being honest, it’s full to the brim with plushies and pillows to cuddle, because of exactly this, how lonely she gets so easily. Wanting to hold and be held, to cling, to bury her face in someone soft and safe and warm.
Dana is scheduled today, Emma is not, and she wishes it didn’t ache as much as it does. She misses slim fingers sliding under her clothes, tracing her skin. She misses the scent of her gardenias and tuberose perfume, the ever present hospital antiseptic, with something uniquely Dana on top of it all. Sometimes cigarette smoke, on a bad day. It helps Dana put them back down when Emma mentions it, how she doesn’t like it. It makes her nose scrunch, displeased, reminds her of her brothers in unpleasant ways. She selfishly wants Dana to stay separate from all of that. She wants Dana to rewrite it.
A frustrated groan sighs out as she tosses and turns, restless, needy. A peek of white fur shows under her cover and she pouts at the sight of it, Dana, the bear version, the best gift she’s ever gotten. Taking it into her arms, she gives it a firm squeeze, the tinny speaker sounding out Mommy loves you.
It feels good, so good, to hear. She misses her Mommy. She squeezes the bear, again, again, again.
Mommy loves you.
Her eyes flutter shut, nose buried in the bear’s fur as she allows her mind to start wandering. Dana’s breath on her neck, panting as she fucks a thick strap inside of Emma’s drooling cunt, bullying it’s way inside with little prep. Emma imagines the pleasure-pain of it, how harsh and mean her Mommy would be to her, all the while kissing underneath her jaw and calling her good, so good for taking it. Because her Mommy loves her so very much.
The thought doesn’t even fully form. It’s more of an instinct, a perverse one, feeling icky as she drags the stuffie down her body. If she can’t have her real Mommy with her right now, Bear Mommy is the next best thing, right? It has her voice and everything, even smells faintly of her.
She shudders as she tucks the bear up between her legs, the pressure already so nice against her aching cunt. She feels like a slut, like those whores her mother preached against, impure. A grind down against the plush is enough to make the bear sound, Mommy loves you playing as the hard electronic rubs into her puffy clit through the thin fabric of her panties, making her yelp.
Her hips start to rut, needy, overeager, gasping little whimpers as she chases the friction, the pleasure, little pulses warming her from the inside out. A constant stream of Mommy loves you, Mommy loves you, Mommy loves you, plays, making her ever needier, tears welling in her eyes with the sheer yearning of it all. The familiar tone of Dana’s voice is addictive, a high she can’t stop chasing, almost dizzy with it, only half-getting her pleasure from the pressure on her pussy, the rest attributed to Dana’s voice. Mommy’s voice. Loving her, loving her, loving her.
“Please, please, Mommy, please… n-nnghh, ne-eed you, need you, please—” Emma whimpers against her sheets, starting to sniffle, the tears slipping out, rolling warm down her cheeks.
She doesn’t know how long she humps at her stuffie, Dana’s tinny voice muffled between the squeeze of her legs. Her orgasm just out of reach, because it always is, ever since Dana ruined her. Pleasure, she can get. Completion, almost never. Dana has to tell her that she can. Her Mommy has to tell her it’s okay.
Eventually she just tires herself out, warm all over, still hazy, hole leaking slick into her already ruined panties. She’s gonna have to wash her bear, and God, she feels like such an icky little girl. Just dumb and desperate, driven by her little pussy and it’s constant needs. It’s not her fault, right? It’s not, it can’t be. She didn’t used to be like this, until her Mommy put all these thoughts in her head. Showed her how good it feels to be dirty and icky, sometimes. How it can take her out of her mind that’s often so mean to her.
She huffs a sigh, eyes fluttering shut, so sleepy. She always gets sleepy when she tries to get herself off. Drowsy, heavy-limbed. It’s easy to let herself slip into a nap.
…
Dana is used to letting herself into Emma’s apartment. They rarely stay at hers, even though she’s been quietly separated from Benji for a lot longer than anyone’d guess. It was amicable… mostly. Emma’s little roommate finally moved in with that boyfriend of hers, and Dana quietly pays her share of the rent. Eventually she’ll convince Emma to let her pay for all of it. One day she’ll just take Emma home. Keep her there, maybe. Where she can keep her girl safe, warm, fucked-out. God, she’s so pretty after she cums, glowing with sweat and panting, blinking those big brown eyes up at Dana. So, so cute.
The sight that greets her as she gently pushes the door open to Emma’s room is one that pulses in her cunt. Fuck. Her baby girl, sprawled out in her pretty pink sheets with her cheek smushed against them, looking so peaceful and soft, with… that bear that Dana got her weeks ago, tucked up between her legs with the head peeking out. Jesus fucking Christ.
Dana rounds the bed like a predator, sits on the mattress slowly, just watching Emma breathe. She reaches out to massage lightly at Emma’s calf, rousing her, lips curling in a satisfied smirk as she watches little goosebumps erupt over Emma’s pretty brown skin.
The girl yawns— god, everything she does is so fucking cute, Dana feels insane— and stretches out a little, whining like a sleeping pup, bottom lip jutting out in a soft pout. Dana wants to kiss it off of her so desperately. Lick into Emma’s mouth until she’s panting and dazed, looking up at Dana like she can’t do anything unless Dana tells her what to do. Helpless.
“Hey, kiddo,” she croons, soft, still rubbing at Emma’s calf, head tilting as those bleary brown eyes find hers. “Welcome to the land of the living. Was that such a good nap, huh?”
Emma squeaks and flushes a little, embarrassed, shuffling up to sit, eyes widening as she notices the bear still between her legs. She snatches it and shoves it under the covers— real inconspicuous, sweetie.
Dana only grins, wide, eyes crinkling. “Aw, were you cuddling with your bear, baby?” She asks, playing at ignorance. Just to make Emma squirm, just to make her stutter.
And she does, swallowing thick, Dana watching the bob of her throat as she tries to fumble through excuses. “I— um. I just— uh, yeah? Yeah!”
Dana laughs. “Articulate.” Grin still quirking her mouth, her hands reach to hold onto Emma’s hips, tugging her close, huffing another laugh through her nose at Emma’s sweet yelp. “Oh, baby, s’okay. Wanna tell me what you were really doing, huh, kiddo?”
Emma squirms herself fully into Dana’s lap, burying her face in Dana’s neck in her shame, and Dana can feel the heat radiating from her cheeks. Poor thing. Dana won’t lie, not even to herself, knowing she loves it, loves making Emma embarrassed, ashamed. Shame looks so cute in her limbs, curling up so small, something to keep and hold and protect. A perfect bundle in her lap.
“M’embarrassed,” Emma whispers, and oh, Dana is so proud of her girl for being honest. So sweet, so good. “Don’t wanna say it.”
“It’s okay, kid, it’s okay,” Dana soothes, rubbing circles over Emma’s back until she feels some tension bleed out, the soft little thing melting right into her. She always does, even if it takes her a moment. Such an easy girl. “Were you making yourself feel good? Rubbing your little pussy on your bear? Yeah?”
Emma squeaks, burying her face deeper in the crook of Dana’s neck. “Mommyyy…” she whines, humiliated, not an admittance, but certainly not a denial. They both know that’s what she was doing, anyways. Needy girl.
“Mmm, just wanted your Mommy, huh?” Dana teases, the hand that’s rubbing at Emma’s back dipping lower, gently patting her butt. “Why don’t you show me what you were doing, baby?”
Emma stiffens, whimpers, almost inaudible. “I… I don’t…”
“You can do it, babydoll. I’m not asking.”
Emma shudders at the firm tone Dana takes, nodding jerkily, extracting herself disappointedly from Dana’s warm hold.
Dana watches Emma fight her shame to obey, clutching onto the soft bear with shaky hands, curling back up on her side. Her breath shudders again as she tucks it back up between her legs, nose scrunching as she bites back a whimper. Already. Dana could laugh again, at her eagerness, but she won’t. Even though she knows better than anyone how Emma drips into her panties at every condescension Dana directs her way.
Her hips start to move, jerky little humps, uncoordinated, like a fawn finding it’s legs. Growing desperate so quickly, she grinds down harder, making the electronic inside play Mommy loves you, the familiar sound of it making a moan spill from Emma’s parted, panting mouth. Dana hums at the new information— oh, so that’s what it is. That’s why her precious girl is humping her bear instead of her pillow or her fingers. She just missed her Mommy that bad, huh?
“Please,” Emma hiccups, teary, and Dana tuts gently at her poor girl. Emma whines in response, pleads for her, increasingly desperate as she humps against the plush. “Mommy, I can’t— mmngh, I can’t, I need— need you, Mommy, please, it h-hurts—”
“Aww, baby, it hurts? Yeah? Is your little pussy aching so bad? Did you cum today?” Dana coos, reaching to grasp Emma’s thigh and ease her legs open, taking the bear away to set aside. Emma has her real Mommy, now.
Emma goes willingly, if a little pouty, ever obedient. A plaything for Dana, a posable doll. “No…”
Dana softens, rubbing Emma’s spread thighs gently before sliding her hands up to grasp the waistband of her little panties, visibly damp, murmuring a “Lift your hips, babydoll.” ‘Course her girl didn’t cum. Can’t, not without her Mommy. Pride glows warm in Dana’s chest, she can’t help it, she loves the thought of Emma being so dependent on her. For permission, for pleasure.
Emma obeys, again, lifting up enough for Dana to tug those panties down her legs and off, putting her puffy, drooling cunt on display.
“Oh, poor girl,” Dana sighs, faux sympathetic and tamping down her grin, spreading Emma’s cunt with two fingers and *tsk*ing. “She needs her Mommy real bad, huh? Yeahh, she does. Sweet little pussy making such a mess of herself.”
Emma whimpers and twitches, fingers fisting in the sheets, fidgeting and restless. Trying so hard to be good. Dana coos as her hole flutters around nothing, begging to be filled, still leaking slick.
“Shh, s’okay,” Dana murmurs, rubbing her fingers through Emma’s slick, barely brushing her clit, giving just a hint of relief. “Gonna make her feel all better.”
It’s slow and easy, the way Dana toys with her. Two slicked fingertips circling and pinching lightly at Emma’s clit, making her girl pant and whine, quivering at the not-quite-enough pleasure, the steady build. Dana presses a little firmer and Emma throbs under her touch, arching into it, so beautifully receptive.
Dana slides her free hand up under Emma’s shirt to play with her soft little tits, the perfect handful, pillowy under her palm. Squeezing and kneading, alternating between them both until Emma is whining so pretty with nearly every one of her panting breaths. Sensitive girl.
“Please— Mommy, please, m’bein’ good,” Emma sniffles, bucking up into Dana’s touch. “Please, just want your fingers, Mommy, please… mmnh—”
Dana contemplates making her get specific, making her beg a little more, making her use her words. But really, Emma has been such a good girl, so she relents. Slides her fingertips down Emma’s soft, wet slit, prodding lightly at her hole. Her fingers sink inside as her palm bears down on Emma’s puffy little clit, pulling the cutest little ah- ah- ah-‘s as she start to curl her fingers, fucking them into Emma’s sopping cunt.
“Yeahh, does that feel good? Does that feel sooo good?” Dana croons, Emma’s pussy making slick noises with every thrust of Dana’s expert fingers, palm grinding down to meet Emma’s every desperate grind up. Her perfect little pussy is so soft, so wet and warm, welcoming Dana’s fingers right in. It’s her favorite thing to play with, Emma’s velvety little hole, her hardened clit. Dana loves to suck on it til Emma’s in tears, but she’ll resist the temptation for now, using her mouth to murmur filth to her girl instead.
“Just take it, baby, fuck, pretty little pussy’s sucking me right in… are you gonna cum, kiddo? Yeah? Cum on Mommy’s fingers? Slutty little hole just needed to be played with for five minutes and she’s already a fuckin mess f’me. I know, I know, sweetie, I knoww… you’ve been so good, babydoll, you can cum. Cum whenever you need to, that’s it, atta girl…”
Emma’s whole body feels like one big heartbeat as she tips over the edge, pussy fluttering around Dana’s fingers, warmth flooding her veins and leaving her sleepy, dizzy, weak. All of her tension bleeds out at once, slumping into the sheets with quiet sniffles, taken care of by her Mommy. She just feels good. So, so good.
“Thank you, Mommy,” she whimpers out, weak, eyes heavy-lidded, Dana only a blur in her vision.
Dana’s warm palm slips out from under her shirt and Emma whines weakly, disappointed at the loss of touch, tits achy. She sniffles as Dana gets up, feeling cold and discarded, feeling sensitive and dramatic. She knows she is, and Dana is quick to quell her sensitivity by being right back, her hands washed of Emma’s slick, a cloth to wipe Emma down. Just her inner thighs for now, where her slick is drying, uncomfy, icky.
Dana crawls into her soft bed with her, gathers her up. Hums lightly as she kisses Emma’s head, arms tightening around her waist, spooning her from behind. Soft and warm and safe, familiar. “That feel better, kiddo?”
Emma flushes, mumbles an “Mhmm..” sated and content.
Dana chuckles, presses another kiss to her head, tells her something that makes her melt.
“Mommy loves you, baby. Sooo much.”