Pew dressed Emmie in a white cotton nightgown tied together with a series of light blue ribbons down the front. This one was a bit more modest, reaching to her knees as opposed to mid-thigh. During the hour that had passed since dinner, Emmie had thought of little else but Papa's words. It felt strange to call her husband Papa, but she did not know his name. Asking Mrs. Pew earned her another swat on her already very sore behind and a harsh admonishment. Could she really do this - live her life like a little girl? Emmie’s logical mind rebelled, but there was a small part of her that found the idea oddly enthralling - this notion that she could live a life without heavy responsibility or effort, pampered and coddled like a child. In the end, did she really have a choice? Once she was dressed in her nightgown, Mrs. Pew led Emmie to Lord Burkewood’s study. With its dark wooden furniture and books, it felt safe and cozy. Papa was sitting by a welcoming fire that gave whole room a pleasant glow. "Thank you, Mrs.
What do You think about The Submission Of Little Emmie?
