I am not a little girl! (Really!) (Scene #214 posted 12/6/23)

[YourFNF]

Although like evolutionary speaking are humans even supposed to be alone? Like not necessarily any one relationship type but we are kinda obligate social primates

[Alex Bridges]

On 8/31/2020 at 9:14 AM, YourFNF said:

Although like evolutionary speaking are humans even supposed to be alone? Like not necessarily any one relationship type but we are kinda obligate social primates

Certainly, and you especially are a kinky little monkey.

Me? I’m more a kinky great ape. Perhaps the greatest ape ?

[YourFNF]

Baka ?

[Alex Bridges]

Scene #45

 

Mary gets frisky after having a migraine.  A couple days after the aftershocks pass and she can move her head quickly without feeling like her brain is bouncing off the inside of her skull, and she gets rather solicitous, wanting to thank me for tending to her so delicately. And what else would I do? She’s my Mary, and it’s my job to take care of her. I wouldn’t go so far as to say it’s a role reversal. It’s just a marriage.

Solicitous in what way, you ask? In the best way, of course.

“Ow! Fuck!”

“Excuse me, young lady,” Mary said from her position behind and to my left.

“Sorry.”

“We’ll just hafta start over now,” she said and lined up the school paddle again.

“Please no. I OW!!!” Ooh. I’d have some narsty bruises for at least a week. Just because we’re lifestyle doesn’t mean we can’t cook up a sexy scene now and again, and I’d been going through the closet cleaning things out when I stumbled across the school girl outfit Mary bought me and made me wear to Target. Having a bit of time on my hands, I broke out the sewing machine while Mary was in her office and made it a little bit, what’s the word, slutty.

I wrote my own note for detention and took it dutifully to the Headmistress.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice,” Mary asked as she tapped the paddle against her leg.

“No Miss.”

“Excuse me?”

“I mean, no, Sister Mary. I OWWW!” She’s so good at that, you might suspect she went into catholic education just for the opportunity to paddle troubled young ladies like myself.

“How many is that?”

“Two, Sister Mary.” We don’t roleplay often, because who needs to in our house, or break out the school paddle because it’s not our favorite. They sorta go hand in hand, so if we’re gonna do the one, we might as well break out the other. Nor do I bend over the kitchen table very often. Mary prefers me over her knee, where I also prefer me, but Sister Mary insisted over the knee spankings are for the little girls. If she was hoping to get me to admit I fell into such a category, she could keep hoping.

“You have two more.”

“Yes, Sis OWWWW!!!” Urgh!! Fuck! I sometimes wish I was normal and my idea of a good time with my wife was assembling a jigsaw puzzle, but we are how we are.

“Last one.” CRACK!

“Aieeee!” My arms we’re shaking as I pushed myself up from the table. My entire diaphragm was shaking as I tried to stay calm and keep my hands from going straight to my butt. Funny, if it were a real punishment, I’d have been sobbing right then, a total mess begging for Mary to forgive me. But it was just role play. I guess I needed some confirmation I was still me and not a weepy emotional dumpster fire after so many months of pandemic and ageplay nuttery. If I could take six from the school paddle and not need to be mopped up off the floor, that was some nice reassurance I was still a functioning person.

“You wanted to show off,” Sister Mary said to me, “so you’re gonna show off.” She tucked the skirt into its own waistband and left me bare assed for the entire school to see. If only enrollment wasn’t down to just me I’d be getting some wonderful attention. Whatever happened to the field hockey captain with the secret hard on for me anyway? Of yeah, she got expelled for unladylike fondling.

“Now,” Sister Mary said to me with that predatory look in her eye, “the rest of your punishment.”

“The rest?”

“Hush, child, unless you need more ...” She eyed me hard looking for any sign that’s what I needed. “... you are to write a list of ten reasons why you are not too old to spank. This list will be completed by lunch time when I come out of my office. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Sister Mary.”

“Just how well you write this list will determine whether I send a note home with you at the end of the day. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Sister Mary.”

“Good. Now, come stand right here.” She pointed directly in front of herself. I shuffled over with even those tiny movements enough to make my ass hurt. I got within a foot when, “Mmmm! (sigh) (kissy noises) Eeep!” Sister Mary kisses better than any nun I know, even if she insists on squeezing bruised butt cheeks. Or maybe especially because she insists on it.

I grabbed the notepad and pen from where we keep it in the kitchen drawer. Once upon a time it was used to make grocery lists. Now that groceries are being delivered, it does that less. I sauntered into the living room and debated for about two nanoseconds between lying face down on the couch and cannon balling onto my perfectly spanked ass before I happily eased my butt down onto the cushions and settled in, letting the ache remind me how much I like everything about getting spanked. I like the way it hurts when it’s happening. I like the way it hurts right after. I like the way it hurts days after. I like the way it makes everything so sensitive. I like the way it feels when lowering my spanked butt into a hot bath. I like the way it feels under jeans and skirts and just hanging out there for all to see. I like the way food tastes after I’ve been spanked to a sobbing, endorphin-fueled mess. I like the way Mary makes me feel about four inches tall when she’s scolding me and about ten feet tall when she’s telling me what a good girl I am for taking my spankings so well. So I suppose the number one reason why I’m not too old to spank is that I love it, but that wasn’t the answer Sister Mary was looking for. Putting myself into the headspace of the only, and worst behaved, student of Our Lady of Perpetually Swollen Backsides, I had to come up with ten good reasons.

Reason Number One was easy: because Mary says I’m not too old to spank. ‘Mary says’ is a good reason for just about everything in our house.

Reason Number Two was also easy: because Sister Mary says. Half a dozen of one, six of the other.

Hmmm. Reason Number three: because my behavior demonstrates I have not outgrown the need for discipline. Both Mary and Sister Mary would appreciate that one.

Four: because I don’t get spanked enough at home. Sister Mary would no doubt agree, circular logic though it was, while regular Mary would set about correcting that mistake.

Five: because I haven’t outgrown having such a spankable butt. I mean, I can’t be too old for spankings if my butt just cries out for more spankings, amiright?

Six: does anyone ever really outgrow spankings? I don’t think so, and neither does Sister Mary.

Seven: I’m only thirty-one.

Eight: without the threat of spankings to keep me in line, I’d no doubt run wild. True story. Staying up all hours. Running barefoot with the dogs. Raising hell. Listening to Adele at hard rock volume. Just awful behavior.

Nine: years on a calendar mean nothing. There’s a damn good reason for lots of things.

Ten: I don’t wanna be too old for spankings. And me not wanting to is a reason neither Mary nor Sister Mary has ever successfully spanked out of me.

I thought that was a pretty good list, but let’s face up to facts: Sister Mary is exacting and kinda a bitch. Definitely one of those dungeon master sadist nuns you read about in, um, places with books. She’d most certainly be alerting Mary to the fact that I was paddled in school, and sympathetic as Mary can be, she’s rather stern when it comes to the rule about getting spanked away from home: you get spanked again at home, too. Did I mention all this role play stuff works best if you don’t delve into the logic?

I think part of the trouble with this school is instead of being in class like I’m supposed to be, I was assigned lunch duty instead, which is fine by me because peanut butter. Sister Mary looked over my list as she sipped her milk.

“Well, some of these are clearly too snarky to be taken seriously, young lady, and there are definitely some things missing from this list,” Sister Mary said to me. “But it’s moot because I already called home.”

“Drat,” I said flatly.

“And I have some instructions you are to carry out before the end of the school day.”

“O darn.”

“Keep pushing it young lady, and see where that attitude gets you. Come here.”

“Yes, Sister Mary.” O but goddam she needed to just cancel whatever work she needed to get done that afternoon. I thought the whole work from home during a pandemic thing was all about flexibility, and we both had needs we needed to meet the fuck out of. That’ll teach me to start with the role playing so early in the day. I stood in front of Mary aching for whatever she was gonna do to me. She flipped my skirt up in front.

“You are to ensure you are ready to pass an inspection by five o’clock. Not five-o-one. Understood?”

“Yes, Sister Mary.” 

Okay, so I wanted to fail that inspection epically. No doubt I’d fail (always do) but I wanted to fail in a way that guaranteed I’d regret never having failed so hard before. 

Of course, failing epically requires perfection, ironically. I’m pretty good with keeping up with all the ladyscaping I do, but I took my time that afternoon in the tub getting every part of me all spic and span, whatever that means (I think it’s a nautical term?). I lingered in the tub for a bit doing, um, stuff. 

It’s not like we’re method actors when it comes to role play, that’s for sure. I just woke up and wrote myself a note for detention because it was a Wednesday and I think we deserved a fun day. Mary does get frisky after she recovers from a migraine, and I get frisky in anticipation of it, and I didn’t know what was on her schedule, but for sure we’d manage to fit something in. (Ha! Accidental dirty puns are the best kind). And besides, as Mary would tell you, I’d gone four days without a spanking, and that surely meant I was on my way to being in trouble. Might as well just get the spanking out of the way and see what other joyful things we could find to do. 

Of all the ways I’ve ever bratted, I never failed an inspection on purpose. I’ve never had to. By the time Mary gets to the last part, I’m not, as she would say, fit for company. She says it’s because I’m just a dirty little girl who needs to try harder, and I say it’s because her standards are too high and her technique too handsy. It comes down to the heather grey test: if she were to slide a pair of heather grey cotton panties up my legs and seat then snugly, would any of the grey be, um, darker than other parts? 

I’ve passed every part of inspections except that part, and it may, if you ask me, have something to do with the way Mary’s inspections are so tactile. If she could just keep her hands to herself, who knows what amazing heights I may soar to.

Besides, if Sister Mary sent a note home, whatever the hell that means, I’d be getting my bruised bottom spanked anyway. Might as well do something to really deserve it and maybe get some other funishment along the way.

“Daphne Ann,” I heard from downstairs round about a minute to five.

“Upstairs,” I called back.

“You have some explaining to do, young lady,” she said as she sauntered upstairs. I didn’t actually see her saunter, but I know my wife, and she’s never not sauntering when she’s on her way to do things to me. Also, in my imagination, she’s always sauntering because it’s just what she does, being all sexy and stuff.

I took being ready for an inspection to mean she wanted me nude and standing in front of the ottoman. She likes to sit there while inspecting me so she’s at eye level with, um, parts.

“I can explain,” I said as sexily as I could manage. I should’ve turned the air conditioning down. I had goose bumps.

“Look how nicely you obeyed,” she said to me with a glint in her eye. 

“Of course I obeyed. I’m very obedient.”

“You wanna tell me what gives,” she said as she put a hand on each shoulder and rubbed my arms to warm me up.

“What part?”

“Why don’t we start with that detention note you wrote this morning addressed to ‘Sister Mary.’”

“I told you to buy a nun outfit weeks ago.”

“You just felt the need to get your bottom paddled this morning. Is that it?”

“Well, you always say I get all out of sorts if I don’t get spanked for a few days.”

“You do, and,” she said stepping around behind me, “as long as you started that little game, I think we should finish it. Is Sister Mary a hard spanker?” 

Yow! Mary sure loves to a squeeze a bruised butt. 

“Y-yes.”

“And what exactly did you do to get such a hard spanking?”

“I, um, got caught looking in the girls’ shower.”

“Well, that’s just silly, Daphne Ann. You are a girl. You coulda been in the girls’ shower.”

“Now ya tell me.” SMACK! Aww, she really loves me.

“And what did Sister Mary do?”

“You can see.” As in, the marks were very much apparent.

“But I wanna hear.”

“She bent me over a table...”

“And...”

“She paddled me.”

“How many times?”

“Six.”

“Six!?! That’s an awful lot for a little girl.”

“I’m not a little girl.”

“And this list she had you write. Is there anything you’d like to add to it?” SMACK!

“Eep! Um, not that I can think of at the moment?” 

Damn, but she couldn’t keep her hands off me. She’s only got the two, but they were in five places at once. Her breath was hot on the back of my neck. It was obvious enough she wanted to skip to the end.

“You’re looking awfully clean.” She took her left index finger and traced a line from the back of my neck across my shoulder, down my side and across the small of my back.

“W-why do you li-like inspections so much,” I ventured to ask.

“Because it’s a perfect excuse to check every part of you one (kiss). Spot (kiss). At a time (kiss). Arms up.”

She likes to narrate as she goes, tracing her fingers here and there like she has a pair of white gloves on.

“I like to check,” she says, “that you’re keeping up with all your hygiene. Like making sure you’re smooth in all the right places.” She took a deep breath through her nose. “And smelling like pristine everywhere.” She’s a she-wolf is what she is, always trying to sniff me out and eat me. Hehe.

“And I like to check that all your ticklish spots,” she kept going, “are still ticklish.” She brushed my underarm with the back of her hand. “And that you’re staying in shape by making sure everything is as firm as the last time I checked it. Like these.”

“Hhhh!”

“And these.”

“M-marry.”

“On your back with your knees open.” Don’t gotta tell me twice. I got o the bed and did as she bid me, and she checked things thoroughly, at least as thoroughly as she could without borrowing Sandy’s med fet toys. “I want to compliment you,” she said.

“On w-what?”

“On keeping yourself so shiny and fresh. Can’t be easy what with all the time you’re spending in potty pants.”

“Don’t be mean to me,” I pretended to whine.

“It must help that you don’t have a hair on you. Very nicely done.”

“I’m very detail oriented.”

“We’ve talked about what this part of you needs to be like in order to pass an inspection. Do you think you pass?”

“No.”

“And why is that?” 

I’d have answered that I could feel my own heat radiating off her hand back at me, but I was having trouble with my tongue working in the moment and specifically me not swallowing it when she pinched... “Hhhh!” 

“That’s strike one,” she said. I counted three, but whatever. Ha!

Mary slid off the bed and took an ankle in each hand, straightening out my legs. I kinda love it when she does this. “Over,” she said, and then I was face down. Told ya she was a ninja. I love that she can just flip me over, and she has a standing invitation to do it.

“Let’s look over the back half of you ... Such strong shoulders,” she said, kneading my back muscles, “under such soft skin. You’ve been moisturizing.”

“Mhmm.”

“And this butt,” she said, “what a perfect shade of spanked.”

“Sister Mary does good work.”

“She’s an expert.” One of her hands, then the other were on my butt checks. Kneading, massaging, squeezing. Spreading. “Tsk tsk tsk.” 

Mary laid down next to me and brushed a strand of hair out of her face. She had one of those smiles of hers on. “You make the days fun, Daffodil.”

“Quit stalling,” I told her.

“Stalling? What am I stalling?”

“Your findings.”

“My findings,” she said and scooted closer, “are that you’re pretty as a picture, fresh as a daisy, clean as a whistle, and that your inspection is an abject failure.”

“Ya don’t say.”

“I do say,” she said. “Setting aside the wetness I found ...”

“And the redness and swelling,” I helpfully pointed out.

“That too. When I tell you to present yourself for an inspection, what should you be wearing?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing. But I found something.”

“No you didn’t,” I said.

“But I did.”

“I don’t see a thing,” I riposted. And I didn’t. Not a speck of clothing or other wearables visible. In that position.

“You have to look in just the right spot,” she countered. “Perhaps you forgot it was there.”

“Mayhaps.” That got a funny look.

“Or perhaps you thought I wouldn’t notice.”

“Could be.”

“Or perhaps you put that plug in deliberately so I’d have no choice but to punish you for your insolence.”

“That too.”

“You know I’m going to leave it in for your spanking,” she said.

Hellz yeah I did. Hehe.

[WBDaddy]

Made my day to see this at the end of it.  

[Sarah Penguin]

Hmm.  Maybe she's not a little girl because she's a baby girl naughty bottom who needs to be spanked regularly.

[YourFNF]

[DDude25]

I've enjoyed this one

[Bel George]

I prefer scenes with diapers, but in this story it certainly fits to read a spanking scene every now and then.

This is probably the first story I read where spankings happen with so much love.

[Alex Bridges]

10 hours ago, Jor said:

I prefer scenes with diapers, but in this story it certainly fits to read a spanking scene every now and then.

This is probably the first story I read where spankings happen with so much love.

Well, when two people love spankings as much as these two kinksters...

I think Mary certainly noticed Daffy leaving an important reason off her list of reasons why she isn’t too old to be spanked: if she’s not too old to wear diapers, then she’s definitely not too old to have her bare bottom spanked. And I suspect poor Daffodil got a few extra for that, maybe even one aimed right at her ?

[Bluebird67]

On 8/30/2020 at 12:55 AM, Alex Bridges said:

I stood up absentmindedly, and Nana got a good look at me from feet to face and got a weird smile on her face. Despite her promise I felt very self-conscious and regretted my absentmindedness. I blushed, go figure. She shook her head.

 

“What,” I said with some of that instant, where-did-it-come-from petulance Mary has been working so hard to cure me of since ever.

 

“You just look cute is all … So see? I must be weird too.”

I just love how you are letting Nana be so open, willing and respectful. Wondering when she is going to get onto Tumblr or Fetlife . She would absolutely love the "Love in Brief" podcast.

[Bel George]

We have been spoiled with so many new chapters, almost weekly, sometimes even more frequent. 

Although I understand that it takes a lot of time and a lot of inspiration to keep writing new and compelling chapters, yet I am impatiently waiting for the next update.

[Sarah Penguin]

[bobindiapers]

I'm not sure how I missed this story for more than a year, but I just got caught up after binge reading all 45 chapters after discovering it last week.  This is one of my favorite stories and it sucks that I have to wait for updates now. ?

[Alex Bridges]

Your intrepid author and Daphne’s alter-ego (or maybe the other way around) has a mild concussion and is having difficulty writing while he recovers.

Rest assured this will return in the next week or so.

[WBDaddy]

7 hours ago, Alex Bridges said:

Your intrepid author and Daphne’s alter-ego (or maybe the other way around) has a mild concussion and is having difficulty writing while he recovers.

Rest assured this will return in the next week or so.

I've no idea how you managed to get concussed, but I hope you navigate your way out of it quickly and without lasting effects.

And, selfishly, I hope it's "in the next week" and not "or so".   

[Bel George]

Get well soon and take care of yourself. 

[YourFNF]

Wishing you a fast recovery

[Sarah Penguin]

Oh no.  I hope you get better soon.  Take care of yourself and chill.

[Alex Bridges]

Thank you for the well wishes.

in other disappointing news, and I only read the headline but I’m assuming this means what I think it means, we still don’t live in a world with nuclear powered vibrators:

https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2020/sep/18/hitachi-nuclear-test-hs2-huge-projects-politicians-wasteful?CMP=Share_iOSApp_Other

[bobindiapers]

Concussions are no fun, take as long as you need to recover. I hope you're back to 100% soon.

[Alex Bridges]

Scene #46

 

Know what Mary needs? A reminder. She always says I need reminder and generally starts a whole lot of sentences with “what you need is...” And we all know how she finishes those sentences. Well, nerts to that.

Mary needs a reminder of the pre-we’re-gonna-ageplay-and-not-acknowledge-it-for-two-years me. Which is to say a reminder that I’m not just adorable, as the whole damn world likes to remind me constantly, but hot AF.  Not movie-star-hot-AF, but in a realistic lesbian-next-door kinda way. Now, I was hoping I wouldn’t hafta spell it out for Mary. My objective was for her to just see me and remember, ‘o yeah, she’s a sexy little minx, too.’

I started out slow: I did yoga in the living room. Or more precisely, I watched tv and waited until I heard Mary’s office door open and then quickly turned on a yoga video and got on all fours. Congenitally short hamstrings may be the curse of the Cranes, and sure, I nearly snapped myself in two, but I did one heck of a downward dog, butt up and pointed at her. She’s a butt woman, as if that’s a surprise. Ooh, yeah, did it catch her attention.

“You better not be practicing yoga without a license,” she said with all the authority of one of those Department of Yoga inspectors in the porno I just made up in my head. 

“So what if I am,” I said while doing my very best to not pass out.

“You’ll have to be punished.” Well, I wasn’t really going for a spanking. I was hoping for some afternoon delight. Beggars can be choosy if they wanna be, but I didn’t wanna at just that moment, and a butt whoopin is a good lead in to other stuff.

“I ought to paddle that little butt of yours just the way you are,” Mary said, “but little girls like you get their bare bottom spankings over the knee. Up,” she ordered.

“Mary...”

“1... 2....”

“Help please ... I’m stuck ... It hurts.”

“O!” And she helped me up. Which I appreciated because if she hadn’t I think I would’ve had to just flop over like a cow being tipped. “You okay?”

“Ow,” I said while rubbing my thighs and being inadvertently adorable.

“Poor baby ...” She got that funny look on her face. “That’s why you need a license.”

“Har har.”

“Just too adorable when you’re all pouty.”

Dammit! “I am not too adorable. You’re too susceptible to adorability.”

“Aww. See?”

“(Marge Simpson Grumble).”

To add insult to injury, after we had lunch together - a meal in which neither of us was on the menu - she took me upstairs (hopes rising!) and put a diaper on me (hopes smashed!) in case, she said like a pretext-finding so-and-so, my poor strained hamstrings made it hard to get to the potty in time. I had to abandon my efforts for the day and regroup the next. 

In our house, we take several things very seriously, to wit: open and honest communication, discipline, our marriage vows, social distancing, cleaning our toys, grilled cheese sandwiches, and Halloween. Just because you only wear a costume once doesn’t mean you shouldn’t spend a lot of money on it so you can win the costume contest at the kinky trunk or treat (tagline: put a little junk in your trunk. Which is sorta backwards and a misnomer because it’s not in a parking lot. Hmm).

I announced I was going to clean the basement, and I set out to sort through our costumes and see if I couldn’t find anything to remind Mary of my many wonderful physical qualities other than cuteness.

Now, Halloween is always kinda a blur for me. I chalk it up to general excitement and the sense of wonder I’ve bravely maintained in this hard world of ours; Mary chalks it up to me eating too many peanut butter pumpkins and getting too wound up. In my defense, it’s a play party with candy - I’m supposed to get wound up. How else would I earn so many public spankings in one evening? Not the restroom or dressing room kind, but the legit over-the-knee-on-the-nearest-chair kind, a.k.a. the real kind we’re not allowed to do anywhere else. Perhaps it's the flood of endorphins and nearly desperate arousal by the time we get home makes it hard for me to preserve the details. I say all this by way of saying our costumes had a certain theme to them.

In Mary’s box, there was Sexy Librarian; Sexy Gym Teacher; Sexy Army Officer; Sexy School Principal; and Sexy Boss.

In my box, there was Sexy Cheerleader; Sexy Soccer Player; Sexy Teddy Bear; Sexy Snow White; Sexy Kitten; and my personal favorite, Sexy Person Who Forgot to Wear Pants.

So if I had to sum up Mary’s box, I’d call it the Sexy Authority Figure Collection. If I had to sum up my own box, I’d call it the Lemme Throw a Little At Ya Collection.

But anyhoo, I started with my favorite, which was really just a pair of satin panties so I could go pantsless without inviting the whole world to see my parts. I squeezed my cheeks into those panties and sashayed upstairs. Mary’s exact words upon seeing me were, “Ha! You look like a toddler who got dressed on her own.”

Well, crap. I beat a hasty retreat before she could "help" me get dressed. My box wasn’t so helpful in my endeavor to be seen as sexy and not cute after all, upon further examination. Teddy bear ears or kitty cat ears would only get me called adorable. Soccer player it is.

Mary’s reaction: “Don’t kick the ball against the house,” before she disappeared into her office.

So I went outside and kicked it against the fence in frustration, which led to, “Daffy! What on earth...”

“Sorry, Nana. Just playing soccer by myself.”

“I didn’t know ...” she said as she came through the fence, and then she saw the outfit before I could yell for her not to. Funny that she’s seen me in a diaper, and seen me naked with a diaper under me, and she’s seen me in panties, and she’s seen my bare red butt, but it was the super-short shorts and strapless “bra” paired with knee socks and soccer cleats that finally made her blush and pivot on her heel and go back to her yard.

“Sorry,” I said with eyes squinched.

“No,” she laughed nervously. “I should’ve knocked.” There was an awkward pause before she asked, “You really play soccer in that? Don’t you get, um, grass stains?”

“It’s an old Halloween costume.”

“O. Guess you got all the candy bars that year.” 

“Hahahaha! No, it was for a party with, uh, people like us. I put it on to remind Mary.”

“That Halloween comes earlier every year?”

“That I’m hot and sexy and not just adorable. I think she’s forgetting. Or not forgetting. Just not the most immediate way she sees me these days.”

“And what way do you think that is?”

“As cute as a mini-muffin. Just want to remind her I’m still the woman she married. Complex. Employable. Not a little girl.”

“I think she does.”

“She had better. This bra is super uncomfortable.” Like, seriously, it was separating my ribs.

My small talk with Nana didn’t last long. I headed inside and waited for my wife to find me again. Once more, I didn’t wait long and didn’t get the reaction I’d hoped for.

First, Mary seemed to consciously overlook me. I guess she was coming up with a reaction she could turn to her advantage. “Daphne Ann,” Mary said to me faux seriously as she sat down on the sofa beside me.

“Yep,” I said while trying (and I guess failing) to make lust eyes at her. Mary makes great lust eyes. I can manage them better when I’m tipsy, but when I’m sober I just look like my allergies are acting up.

“Your coach called.”

O, come on. I wasn’t looking to roleplay. “No she didn’t.”

“I’m afraid she did.”

“I don’t have a coach. It’s a Halloween costume. Look - they don’t let you play soccer with your junk halfway out,” I said, trying to redirect her attention.

“That’s what your coach wanted to talk about.”

“There is no coach.”

“Also, your coach wanted to talk about your disrespectful attitude toward your coach’s existence.” Ooh, she is at least as much a smartass as I am, but I’m the only one who gets spanked for it.

“Fine. I’ll apologize to my ‘coach’ the next time I see her. Can we please focus on the matter at hand,” I asked as I moved my hand to, well, a place on Mary.

“And the larger issue,” she said as she took my hand and put it back in my own lap, “is your coach tells me you’re something of a ball hog.”

“I don’t even like balls!” Well, that at least made her laugh. And then she put that fake serious face back on.

“There is no ‘I’ in ‘team’ in our house.”

“There’s no ‘Q’ in ‘barbecue’ either. Hmmmph.” I don’t even know what that means, but I said it and folded my arms in a pouty way that didn’t at all help steer the conversation back to my womanly virtues. I have feminine wiles, dammit! See my wiles!

“I’m going to have to teach you a lesson about team work, Daphne.”

“Well, how ya gonna teach me that lesson?” If only I could get her to spank alternative yet very spankable parts, I could still turn this boat around. Been a while since she spanked that part of me, and I think my alleged misbehavior called for it, if that’s what it came to.

“If you’re not mature enough to pass the ball, then you must not be a big girl.”

“Iamtooabiggirl!” 

I’ll spare you the rest except to say I added some choice words about the coach and the sport of soccer and pay equity in the American soccer system, all of which just got the pacifier added to the diaper I had to wear until I ‘learned to play like a big girl.’ That had me freaked out until I learned that my learning period was only until bed time. Phew! I was worried it would be much longer.

Mary forced my hand. I don’t like to go all nuclear, but she didn’t leave me any choice. No more pretense. No more games. I didn’t wanna do it. Lord knows the last time I did it I ended up with bruises. But, dammit, I’m a big girl. I can handle bruises. I had to put on The Outfit.

The outfit I was wearing the day we met. The one that made her reach out and yank me over her knee. Granted it was a spanking party and I was letting my butt get passed around; but Mary saw me, reached out, practically pulled me off my feet and over her lap, and just held me there.

“Hi,” she said to me with her chin in her hand and her elbow between my shoulder blades like she was just resting it there.

“Hi,” I meeped. I wasn’t nearly as smitten as she was. I was mostly intimidated. “I’m Daphne.”

“I’m Mary. What’s your middle name?”

“Ann.”

“Well, Daphne Ann, what naughtiness brings you here?” She gave me a spank. A get-to-know-you-spank, not too hard and not too soft.

“I’m not naughty. I’m here because I was so very good.”

“Fibber. You know what fibbers get?”

“I’ll know if you show me.” So she did. She was supposed to save some of my butt for the other guests, but I guess she liked it a lot or something because she just kept spanking away at it, and I just let her. I was impressed with her hand; she was impressed with my butt.

“Yow,” I said all kittenishlly when she finished up. “You’re good at that.”

“I know,” she said, and I thought to myself, of course she knows! She’s so damn confident! And she put her elbow back and put her chin back in her hand and just looked at me as I twisted my head around so I could look back at her.

“Um,” I said nervously, “can I get up now?”

“No.”

“No?!?”

“I don’t wanna share you.”

“But sharing is caring,” I said because I’m so fucking terrible at flirting. 

“I’ll let you up if you hang out with me.”

“Ummm ... Mmmkay.” 

“Can I flip you over?”

“I dunno. Can you,” I asked sincerely. “Whoa! Ha! Guess so.” I was then sitting on her lap, and she was looking at me with that look of hers, the one that uses to make me into a babbling doofus but that I’ve since built up complete immunity to (really!). “Um, thanks for spanking me? ... What?”

“I was just thinking.”

“About what?”

“About what my chances are if I ask you out.”

“O. Well, I think you’ll get a yes.”

“That’s very reassuring.”

Honestly, I thought she was being kinda weird in a creepy way, but also in a way that was sorta a turn on. 

“You’re staring,” I said to her.

“I see someone pretty, and I think I wanna get to know her.”

“Ha!” Okay, I’m a sucker for flattery and dominant women. Plus she’d done a really good job on my butt, and while I wasn’t sure how interested I was, I was interested in a date for sure. Even if it just turned into a play partner relationship, her hand was super compatible with my ass.

So the day after the soccer fiasco, I put on The Outfit: white camisole, white panties, white ankle socks.

I texted her: Are you busy?

Nope. What’s up?

And instead of answering, I strolled into her office, grinned at her, gave her a ‘your move’ head tilt, and waited.

She took a deep breath, let it out in a sigh, spun back toward her monitor, closed her laptop with a satisfying clap, spun back toward me, stood up, grabbed me by the wrist, and yanked me toward her for a kiss that made me get light headed (hypoxia will do that to you).

After, as I was rubbing my shoulder wondering if I’d have a bruise from where she pushed me down before climbing on top of me, I asked her straight up: “Am I a big girl?”

“You’re all woman, Daffy.”

“Damn skippy ... Why do you like me in that outfit so much.”

“Because it makes you look like something you’re not: Innocent as a lost little lamb.”

“I am too innocent!”

“Fibber. You know what fibbers get?”

“I will if you show me.”

Maybe I’m not such an innocent lamb, but Mary, no mistake, is a wolf. She just can’t help but chase after little ol’ me.

 

[WBDaddy]

My day just got a little sunnier seeing an update to this. 

And this was a super cute sequence.  "I AM A BIG GIRL!  DAMMIT!"  

[Guilend]

Yay and that was great

[Bluebird67]

Yay, “When Mary met Daphne”, finding Nana’s limits and a reassurance that our heroes’ relationship is firmly on the right track, all in one update.

Thanks, and it’s good to have you back from your concussion.