Chapter Six

Storybrooke

Agitated, Emma paced back and forth on the soft carpeted floor in the guest bedroom. It was nearly dawn, and she knew the sun would be coming up before long, but still she hadn't slept a wink. She'd been nearly sated enough to fall asleep right on Regina's lap just a couple short hours ago, but once she'd been sent back to her room, the full reality of what had just happened really hit her.

She, Emma Swan, who never backed down from a fight and never let anyone take advantage of her, had willingly laid herself down on a stranger's lap and let herself be spanked. Thirty five times. Emma Swan, who never cried, and would rather crawl in a hole and die than let someone else see her cry, had been reduced to tears at Regina's hand, and had all but thanked her for it when it was over.

She wasn't sure what the hell had gotten into her. How had she let it go that far? How had she agreed to quickly to something so absurd? This wasn't her… this was not something that she did.

And yet, she just had, and it was driving her crazy.

It didn't help that the entire spanking session had also left her incredibly turned on, in spite of her embarrassment over the entire thing. The feeling had dissipated when Regina had held her on her lap and she'd nearly fallen asleep, but once she was alone in her room again, replaying the whole thing over in her mind, she couldn't help the new wave of arousal that hit her.

Briefly, she considered dealing with that herself, until she remembered that she still was, in fact, in a stranger's home, with the son she'd given up ten years ago fast asleep just down the hall, and she decided it would just be too weird. She couldn't do it.

So instead she started pacing. And thinking. And regretting.

She was smarter than this. She was smarter than taking some random woman's word that there would be a storm. She was smarter than staying at a stranger's house. She was smarter than allowing herself to appear vulnerable.

But, Regina wasn't even just some random woman. She was the woman who had adopted her son, and in Emma's mind, that just made the whole situation all the more fucked up. She thought about how Henry had screamed in Regina's face, "I found my real mom!" before he'd taken off inside. She'd seen the hurt in Regina's face, and the way she instantly tried to cover it up.

What if that was the real reason for this? What if this had just been Regina's way of getting even?

He mind drifted further. What if Regina had spent the last ten years hating her? It seemed ridiculous, since Emma knew giving up Henry was the thing that had made Regina a mother, but what if Regina had, somewhere in the back of her mind, been hating her for throwing away the child that she loved? What if she'd always secretly wondered what she'd do if she came face to face with Henry's birth mother?

Emma knew she was reaching with that one, but it didn't matter. She was already starting to panic. She didn't know what to do. Should she leave? Was it safe to leave Henry here? He had called Regina evil, after all, and Regina had seem to enjoy inflicting pain on her.

Emma shook her head. She'd consented to that, she reminded herself. It was something people did, she knew that, but it wasn't something she did.

It was all too much. She needed to escape. She grabbed her keys and her phone from the night stand beside the bed she'd left unmade, and took off out of the guest room. It was still dark and Henry and Regina were both asleep and Emma knew it was time for her to do what she did best: run.

Emma blinked against the harsh light coming from above her. Her head hurt and she was disoriented and it took a minute for her brain to catch up and process why she was laying on her back on an unforgiving foam mattress, staring up at a florescent light bulb.

She'd been in her car, leaving Regina's house and Storybrooke before sunrise and then… oh right… the wolf. She'd swerved to miss it and the last thing she remembered was her Bug headed straight for the "Welcome to Storybrooke' sign.

Emma groaned and rolled over, glancing around the room she was in. No, it wasn't even a room, actually. She'd expected to find herself in a hospital, but it was immediately apparent that she was actually in a jail cell.

"What the fuck," Emma muttered to herself as she got up from the bed, stopping for a moment because her head was spinning, and then making her way over to the bars of the cell. She was in the police station.

She recognized Graham, the sheriff, from the night before. He was distracted by something on his desk, so Emma cleared her throat to get his attention.

"You arrest all car accident victims?" Emma asked, once he'd looked up.

He narrowed his eyes, confused. "I assumed you were drunk and needed to sleep it off."

"I could have a concuss-" Emma stopped dead when she heard the distinct clicking of highheels from the right of her. Her eyes flicked over to the source of the sound, and sure enough, there was Regina, walking into the room, her eyes fixed on Emma.

"Let her out, Sherriff," said Regina, without so much as a glance at Graham, and the pure, unadulterated authority in her voice sent a shiver down Emma's spine.

Emma watched in amazement as Graham did as he was told without question, and she wondered if everyone followed Regina's wishes so unquestioningly. Sure, she was the Mayor, but Graham was the Sheriff and he'd arrested her. Didn't he have the final say in whether she was released or not?

"I'd like a moment alone with Miss Swan, please, Sheriff," Regina continued, and Graham offered her his office.

"Coming, Miss Swan?" Regina asked, though Emma was fairly sure it wasn't really a question, and she followed Regina, albeit somewhat reluctantly, to Graham's office. She still wanted to get the hell out of Dodge, but she figured she was relatively safe with Graham just on the other side of the door. The office had windows, after all, so even if Regina was pissed, Emma was sure nothing would happen.

"Have a seat," said Regina, once she'd closed the door behind them.

"No, thanks."

Regina cocked her seat to the side. "Very well. Emma, I-"

"I thought you said I could leave."

"What?"

"You said I could leave in the morning and forget all of this if I wanted."

"Is that what you want?"

Emma crossed her arms and didn't answer.

"Emma, I'm not going to stop you if you want to go. However, I was surprised to find you gone by the time I woke up this morning, and even a little disappointed, but I was still willing to accept your decision. I still am, but when I received a call from Graham this morning after dropping Henry off at school, to tell me you were unconscious in a holding cell, I thought I best stop by and make sure you were okay."

"Oh."

"Are you okay?"

Emma shrugged. "My head hurts, but I'll live I guess."

"Emma, that's not exactly what I mean."

Emma shifted her weight from foot to foot, debating what she should say. She looked up at Regina again. "I don't… know. That was… last night… I don't know."

Regina nodded. "It was too soon. I got carried away. I'm sorry, Emma."

"Too soon, yeah," Emma said, with a heavy sigh. "Maybe? I don't know… that's just… what you did… what we did… that's not me."

"It's not?"

"I don't know! I don't know, I don't know, I don't… I mean, it shouldn't be me, should it? What kind of person likes to be spanked?"

Regina shrugged. "Lots of people. More than you might realize. But that's not important. What's important is whether or not you liked it."

Emma couldn't help the blood rushing to her cheeks, and she knew she was blushing. "I did like. More than I probably should have."

"What do you mean?"

"It turned me on, okay!"

Regina nodded, a small smile forming at the corners of her lips. "Yes, that's okay. That was kind of the point."

"Doesn't that make me, I don't know, kind of fucked up?"

"Do you think I'm fucked up?"

Emma offered Regina a sheepish smile. "Well, you do have a torture chamber in your basement."

"Hardly. I prefer the term 'playroom', and most of the things you saw last night are for decoration only."

"Really?"

"Yes, Emma. And I really have no intention of forcing you into anything you don't want to do. Perhaps I sprang it on you a little too quickly, but I saw something in you last night… there's something about you, and i didn't want to risk letting you get away. But now you're freaking out and that's my fault."

"Well, it's not really. I did say I wanted to do it."

"You did, but part of my responsibility is to make sure you're okay after the fact. It's called aftercare, Emma, and it would seem I let you down in that respect. I thought you were alright, but clearly you weren't, and that's on me. It's something I will have to work on, if we choose to continue this."

Emma nodded, slowly. "I mean, twenty four hours ago, I didn't even know who you were. Can I take some time to think about it?"

Regina smiled. "Of course. Take all the time you need, dear. And I know you have questions, even if you're not sure what to ask right now. When you do, you know where to find me."

Despite her headache, Emma actually felt a little better after her talk with Regina, even if she was more confused than ever. She left the station, and on Graham's insistence that Granny's had never had an issue with bedbugs, Emma decided to take a room there, just for a couple of days. What harm could it do, really?

She did wish she'd thought to bring her laptop with her from Boston, however, because Regina was right: she did have questions. She wasn't sure, however, that she was quite ready to ask them, so instead she grabbed her phone and laid down on her bed, opening Google and typing in "BDSM".

Before Emma even realized how engrossed she'd become, a few hours had passed and she'd filled the entire complementary notebook she'd found in the desk with notes and questions. Her head was spinning with terms like 'safe, sane and consensual', and the differences between tops and bottoms or dommes and subs, as well as an entire array questions about acts and toys she'd never even heard of before.

It was a lot, and yet, somehow a whole lot less scary than she'd originally imagined. Sure, she'd come across some images that had made her gasp, but she felt better knowing that she'd never have to dress in a latex body suit with nothing but her nostrils uncovered if she didn't want to.

And she was quite sure that was a hard limit for her, another term she'd just learned.

Emma drew in a deep breath, and armed with her new information and her notebook of questions, she got up from the bed and headed out of her room and down to her car, surprising even herself that her confidence was unshaken by the time she reached Regina's house. Henry should still be in school another couple of hours, she knew, and Regina's car was sitting in the driveway so she knew she was home.

Emma knocked loudly, and waited, but it was only a matter of moments before the door was opened and Regina was there, looking intrigued and slightly surprised.

"I didn't expect you quite so soon," she commented, as she stepped back to allow Emma to step inside.

"I have questions," said Emma, holding up her notebook of scribbled writing.

"I can see that. Would you like a drink?"

Emma shook her head. "No, not right. I just want to talk about… all of this."

Regina smiled. "Well then, come inside."

To be continued…