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

[Alex Bridges]

Scene #202

 

 

 

“Daffy,” someone sang to me. “Daaaaaaffffy. I think you’ve slept in long enough.”

O friggin fine. I rolled over and greeted her with, “Urrrrrrrrrrrrf!”

“How are you still sleepy? You’ve been asleep for ten hours.”

“No circadian rhythm shaming.” I’m not a morning person, and I’m not an evening person. I thrive between eleven in the morning and one in the afternoon. I’m a mid-day person, one of The Lunch People. Rare is the day Mary lets me sleep past eight, something about not sleeping our lives away and liking it when we’re both awake and corporate productivity and stuff and things. She let me sleep in cuz we have a party to go to, and while I think I’m the life of the party, she claims (she just makes stuff up, really) lives of the party don’t fall asleep on the host’s bed no matter how well they know the host. I mean, it was one time! She never lets me live stuff down.

She does, however, have a point about how me sleeping in doesn’t actually make me more energized. Hence my waking groan.

“Are you feeling okay?” Mary bent down to put her lips on my forehead. I don’t know how effective that is as a way to check for a fever, but it ends in a kiss and I like it and stuff.

“Yeah. Do I really have to get up?”

“Yeah.”

“Does Suzie really hafta get it? Surely you wouldn’t make the dog get up.” And if the dog was to stay peacefully asleep, surely I needed to stay right by her side snuggled up together. Dogs are warm. I mean, Mary is a better and more considerate sleeping companion, but Suzie is in her adolescent stage and has turned into the floofiest stuffy.

“Suzie can do what she likes,” Mary said and with a whoosh pulled the covers down. Suzie gave Mary a look that, had I given it, I would’ve gotten my tail paddled for (which is a thing that’s happened before and how can a look be quote ‘massively disrespectful, majorly bratty, and unacceptable’ unquote; I ask and I answer, it can’t because reasons; really). She got up, shook herself all over, and went to find another place to sleep.

“If you stay in bed,” Mary said, “how are you gonna get that soggy diaper changed? Unless you like soggy diapers. Is that it?”

I am so giving her the look but hiding it behind my poker face right now. “About that, Mary? How many times do I hafta say I don’t like diapers, I don’t need diapers, and I only wear them for you?”

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear you over the scent of overnight weewee.”

“Frumpeter nursherder!”

“But seriously, you stink.”

“What the heck kind of good morning is this? Is it Be Mean To Daffy Day again, cuz I hate those days.”

“It’s Give Daffy a Morning Bath Day because you smell like dog and pee.”

“The only thing that (sniff-sniff) … Okay.”

“Ha!”

What do you think she meant by that? “Bet you can’t carry me,” I said cheekily.

“Like a little girl?”

“I was thinking more like a queen, but I’ll settle for bride carried over the threshold.”

“Of the bathroom.”

“Of the bathroom, yes.” That’s where we were going. She’s so silly sometimes.

“Don’t think I can carry you, but how about being spank-marched?”

“Ooo, good idea. Yes please.”

I propelled myself to my feet with a helping hand from Mary. She’s so romantic and stuff: she twisted my arm behind my back and swatted my butt all twelve steps to the bathroom. Liking my butt is probably the first thing we knew we had in common, what with her yanking me over her knee at a play party before we even knew each other’s names.

“I’m going to run the bath, just in case there’s anything you’d like to do in that diaper before you get in the tub.”

“I don’t even know what you’re hinting at. And I don’t ‘want’ to do anything in this diaper.” I’d just rather do it in the diaper than in the tub, but that’s not even a free choice cuz Mary is big and strong and in charge of me. I mean, I guess I could pee in the tub, but ew.

“Uh-huh,” was all Mary said. She put her hand under the running water cuz she’s love me too much to scald me and she …

“Hey!”

… groped me. And you know what she said? Well, I’ll tell you what she said. She said, “If what’s coming out of you is 98.6, I’d guess the bath water is 105, 110.”

“(Embarrassed kitten noises).” She should really be careful with that kind of humiliation in the bathroom. If I faint and hit my head it’ll be her fault. What happened, the paramedics will ask. I made fun of her diaper, Mary will say. And even if I’m dead I’ll die of embarrassment all over again. It’ll be really upsetting for everyone.

“Are you done making tinkles?”

“(Whimpering wombat noises).” Is she trying to kill me!?!

“Ya know how neither of us is into degradation,” Mary asked rhetorically as she untaped her diaper (unequivocally hers; I just happened to be holding it for her using only my hips). “What do you think it means that I think it’s hot that you smell like pee like a subby little bedwetter?”

I’m a very smart, insightful woman. In a past life, I was the only Oracle of Delphi who didn’t need drugs to come up with answers in riddle form. I taught Steven Hawking everything he knew. Reinhard Nielbuhr never could follow my reasoning yet could only agree in stunned silence with my conclusions. I know stuff. And things. Things like how much we  (me and Mary, that is; RIP ol’ Reiny) would regret knowing the answer to her question. That’s how insightful I am - I didn’t even need to know the answer to know we’d both regret it. See, it’s like going to restaurant with a cuisine you’ve never had before: if it looks funny and smells funny and has a name you can’t pronounce and you’re enjoying it, never, ever ask ‘what’s in it?’ Because once you know the answer, it doesn’t taste good anymore.

I’m just saying, Mary and I had been, ahem, dining on each other for years. Let’s not yuck our own yums, ya know?

“If I let you finger me in the bathtub, can we not answer that question?”

SMACK!

“Ow! For fuck’s …”

“SMACK!!!

“OW!”

“Language, young lady. You’d better not plan on talking that way in front of the other guests tonight. In the tub.”

“What have we said about spanking the front,” I harrumphed as I got in the tub with a tingling sting I didn’t hate.

“That I decide when, why, how, and where you get spanked, whether that’s on your American fanny in public or your British fanny right before your bath.”

So she does remember. Drat.

“Well, I’m not British.”

“Yeah, but when I call it your pu…”

“Lalala sensitive …

“Little ears. Exactly, you do that. And you’re lucky you’re not British. Do you know what they do to gingers over there?”

“Even daywalkers like me?”

“Even daywalkers.”

I took my right heel and planted it on the edge of the tub. “Wash, slave girl.”

Ooo, Mary’s if-it-wouldn’t-get-water-everywhere-I’d-yank-you-out-of-the-tub-and-paddle-you-purple face.

“I swear, if it wouldn’t make a mess yanking you right out of that tub, the bath brush would be off the wall and your butt would be purple already.”

We know each other so well! Soul mates!

“Uh-huh,” I said and (get this) handed her the soap. And you know what she did? Well, I’ll tell you what she did. She took the soap and made it sudsy and started running it in long strokes up and down my leg. Sigh.

“You,” she said in an attempt to salvage her defeat (cuz who won that exchange? Well, I’ll tell you who won that exchange: me. I won that exchange), “are like living with a teenager some times.”

“Cuz I’m so full of life?”

“Cuz it’s a pain getting you out of bed, and when I finally do, you’re the biggest smartass.”

“The biggest? So I get a prize, right?”

“O, you’ll get a prize alright, but I’m gonna save it for Brenna’s tonight.”

“Is it a dinner party or a play party?”

“Have you ever been to a dinner party at Brenna’s that didn’t turn into a play party? Gimme your other leg.”

“It’s so sexy when you demand parts of my body.”

“I own you body and soul, Daffodil. I have a contract to that effect.”

“It was just a valentine.”

“Binding contract the moment you signed it.”

I was going to contest her understanding of our state’s contract laws, but the soap (and Mary’s arm up to her elbow) disappeared under the water and made me go, “Eep!”

“Been a while since we went to a party,” Mary said. “Have you thought about what you’ll do differently this time?”

Huh? “Was I … supposed to? And different from what?”

“So you don’t remember standing in timeout in Brenna’s living room and me saying your red hot butt was to make sure you’ll make better choices next time?”

I’m a very busy woman. It’s unfair to expect me to remember things like that. I mean, my days are just packed! I … make lunch, and do dishes. Take care of the dog. Go to the grocery store. I mean, um, there are only 168 hours in a week, and every last one of them is mine to do with as I please, but I still have lots of pressing … I was probably crying when I acknowledged Mary’s admonishment, and I’m always getting in trouble at those parties and doesn’t that just prove that Mary’s style of discipline is ineffective? In fact, I’ve long had my suspicions that it’s really an elaborate sex thing anyway, but Mary is so earnest when she says it’s not, and it’s not like people ever lie about sex, right? Mary never would cuz she’s all upstanding and prim and proper and stuff. Really. Even if she does use the p-word to describe a certain part of my anatomy. Really.

“Do you even remember what you did to earn that spanking,” Mary asked me.

O puh-leaze. Just cuz I woke up in a diaper doesn’t mean I was born yesterday. “Do you even remember what I did?”

“… You’re mouthy today.” Ha! Bluff: called.

“And you’re a subject changer.”

“Just tell me what you’re going to try to do tonight.”

“I’m gonna try to get along with Jane and Tommy.” Jane, for those of you new to perv-reading my diary, is my bestie/a bratty little who always manages to get me in trouble, and Tommy is a little/pain in the ass who has a special talent for getting on my last nerve and killing it with fire. I don’t know what I did to get in trouble at Brenna’s last party, but I can be positive one or both of them started it.

“And not roll your eyes like you just did, and come tell me if the other littles aren’t being nice to you.”

“…thinks she so subtle,” I mumbled.

“And give Ann and Jo a chance. I know you don’t like adding people to our group, but they’e super nice and Brenna wanted to meet them.”

“Explain to me again what’s wrong with me resenting them and wanting things to stay the way they are,” I said without pouting even a little bit. If you ever hear otherwise, punch them in the sternum and tell them Tommy told you to.

[Guilend]

I can’t wait till the Party. I’m very certain a little suby girl is going to end up in time out with a red bottom. The only questions are whether she’ll be arriving in pull ups or diapers and what will she be leaving in, diapers or pull ups and what condition will the be in when she leaves ?

[diaperboymi]

I know someone exactly like Daffy in the morning?.  I'm guessing the party will be ?

[Alex Bridges]

Scene #203

 

I had to basically fight off Mary. That’s always fun when it’s cuz she’s thirsty, but this was more along the lines of, “We never go to dinner parties. Lemme dress you up.” She was giving off serious mom vibes, specifically my mom who would always insist that for any remotely special event, she decided what everyone wore. But I can dress myself just fine. I was pretty and everything. I mean, it wasn’t even a fancy dinner party. Even calling it a dinner party overstates how formal it was meant to be. It was just a get together at which dinner would be served.

Mary’s main contribution to our preparation, other than fussing over me like a mother hen, was watching me bake dessert. The woman is a bottomless ocean of wholesome kinks. “Ooo,” she said before I could get my measuring cup into the flour, “wait a sec.” And in a flash, she was putting an apron on me. Not that I’m criticizing cuz Mary in an apron makes me feel these weird feelings, but do I really just sit and watch her cook when she wears one? (Yes. Yes, I do sometimes.)

Aproned and baking, Mary took the time to pat me on the head and tell me what a good baker I am, and I took the time to say, “A girl baker.”

“Mhmm.”

“A good baker and a girl baker. That would make me a …”

“A good girl baker.”

“Shorten it.”

“Good girl.”

Squee! Not to be bragging or nothing, but my wife thinks I’m a good girl. All to say that the day was delightful and no one, not even me, started out with any attitude.

“It would be a shame,” I hinted as subtly as Mary when she warns me about my (alleged mis)behavior, “to share this cake with others when we could eat the whole thing ourselves. I mean, I’m already sharing it with you.” True story – if Mary ever goes back to work in an office, I’m gonna bake and eat entire cakes while she’s gone.

“We’re going to the party. End of story,” she declared. If either of us was in a mood prior to the party, it was Mary in a declarative mood.

“That’s not what I was suggesting.”

“Then what we’re you suggesting?”

Crap. Think quickly! “That we, uh, could get a store-bought cake to take with us.” Of course, it would then be a shame to share that cake with others … My life needs more cake.

Mary’s I-don’t-believe-you gave. “Uh-huh. You wanna tell me why you don’t want wanna go?”

“It’s not that I don’t wanna go. It’s just that … I’d rather stay home. Which is different … because reasons and stuff.”

“You’re always saying how bored you are and you wish we saw our friends more. One offers to host a nice get together and you wanna stay home.”

“I’m a woman of contradictions … I have layers.”

“We’re going, and you will have a good time.”

Would t’were so simple. If all it took was a decree from Queen Mary So-And-So (first of her name, empress of all the lesbians named Daphne who live in our house), I’d have no excuse for ever not having fun. I’d just say, ‘Mary, do you mind decreeing I have a good time?’ And she’d so degree cuz she likes me and stuff, and a good time would be had by all. But t’wis not so simple.

“But Mary,” I said, “new people.” Didn’t whine. Did not whine. I didn’t whine all day, which adds plus-one days to my infinity streak of not ever whining.

“Ann and Jo aren’t new. We know them.”

“In the context of … bilateral relations. It was just us and them. They’re gonna be there with our friends, and the group dynamic will be different, and … newness.”

“Newness is good,” she’s reminded me. “You know that.”

“Yeah, but …”

“But what?”

“Nothing. That’s all I got. ‘But …’” And I only went on offense cuz I was feeling defensive for no reason out of nowhere. “Then I’m wearing whatever I want.”

“Okay.”

“No diapers.”

“Alright.”

“Or pull-ups.”

“Fine by me.”

         So we both went there in perfectly perfect moods fully prepared to have a good time. Really.

         But that’s not what happened.

[Guilend]

Nooooo you left us hanging. By a thread. 

I have a feeling that not wearing any padding will be her downfall. I'm sure by the middle of the party she'd be wishing she was padded and regretting her decision greatly. 

[Alex Bridges]

Scene #204

 

“Okay,” Mary said in her I’m-fed-up-with-this-frosty-silence voice when we were getting ready for bed after we got home, “what did I miss? You were doing okay, and then you got the look.”

“What look,” I didn’t say in the most passive aggressive you-mean-this-look-and-this-matching-tone-of-voice tone ever?

“That look.” Ooo, big Miss Mary folding her arms like she has a valid point just because her point is valid. Well, screw that!

Where to even start with the many ways the evening sucked? For one, Jo and Ann were the center of attention. And for another, their names are fine on their own but stupid together (Joann? Not that they call themselves that, but they could, and these people are not Branjelina, lemme tell you).

And Jane and Tommy were so much more interested in Ann than in me. And Brenna and Lisa were … Like everyone wanted to make the newcomers feel welcome, which is so the right thing to do and I don’t care.

FUCK! I hate this. I hate feeling this way. It’s stupid and not necessary and since when did I turn into the world’s most insecure titmouse? What happened to the me who met her wife while letting people I barely knew at the time spank me? What happened to her confidence?

“Can we not talk about it? I mean, not tonight,” I asked.

Mary sighed and gave me her nope face. “I think we should talk about it.” I knew she was gonna say that. I just sighed and made my woe-is-me face. I gotta say, I’m really getting insufferable, in my opinion. “We’re not going to bed like this. Did someone say something? Do something?”

         If Mary thinks she can defrost my frosty silence by being reasonable, well, she’s got another thing coming.

“C’mon,” Mary said and led me to the bedside and pulled me over her lap.

“Are you kidding me right now!?! What did I even do?”

“Nothing, but sometimes you talk more when you’re over my knee.”

“I do not!” I couldn’t see her face, but I knew it had that this-is-my-sarcastic-if-you-say-so look of hers all over it.

“I’ve gotten you to confess an awful lot of things with you in this position.”

“Let me up!” SPANK. Not a hard one. Didn’t even hurt.

“I’m serious, Daphne Ann. You don’t have to look at me from there. Won’t that make it easier to tell me what you’re feeling?” I hate it when she has a point. She usually does. I do, too, but only around eighty percent of the time (seventy percent max on my best day).

“I don’t like Ann. There, happy?” SPANK! Okay, that one had a little zing in it.

“Please don’t get snippy with me.” She paused to see if I had anything more to say. “Why don’t you like Ann?”

“Because she’s just so … She’s … She’s … She’s fine. She’s totally unobjectionable and nice and she makes friends easily, and they’re my friends and I don’t wanna share.”

“Okay, I hear you saying that, and I believe you, but that’s why you’re mad at Ann. Why are you mad at me?”

“I wasn’t until you pulled me over your knee.”

“Yes, you were. What did I do? Tell me, and I’ll apologize.”

 “She and Jane and Tommy got right into their little headspaces, and you just went right along with them and Ann sat on your knee, and you let her! Okay? Not over your knee. On your knee. Right in your lap like she’s … You do it with Jane too.”

“Do what?”

“You get all into this big headspace and just … The way you looked at her.”

“It’s roleplay, Daphne.”

“I know, but … I don’t like it.”

“Are you saying you’re jealous of the way I treat Jane when she’s being little, and the way I was with Ann.”

“Not jealous. Just … something like jealous but not.”

“O … kay. Like envious?”

“No.”

“Like what then?”

Hate admitting when she has a point, but she was probably right that there was no way I’d say this while looking her in the eye. “I don’t want other people to make you that happy,” I told her before that sentence even made sense to me. I could practically hear her cocking her head to the side and making her whoa-try-that-on-me-again face.

“What does that mean,” she asked me quietly. Shrinking your voice down to barely above a whisper during hard conversations is a me move. Mary doesn’t really do that unless she’s worried she did something to hurt my feelings.

“I wanna be the only person who can make you that happy.”

“It’s roleplay,” she said again. She sounded confused and a little mystified, and I don’t blame her one bit for it.

“No, it’s not. I mean, it is, but you … You should see how happy you looked when Ann rushed up to you when she was being little. Maybe it is just roleplay, but it makes you so happy.”

I am, by the way, aware of just how unfair this is to Mary. She’s allowed to be as happy as she wants to be whenever she wants to be. But I’m also allowed to not like it just like I’m allowed to really dislike myself for feeling that way in the moment, which I did. I felt like a straight up toxic person.

“I’m sorry,” I said as I sniffed. “I know I’m not being fair, and I feel awful for feeling that way. I don’t like that I’m jealous but I am and it’s ugly and I’m sorry.”

“Sit up,” she said and helped me. She opened her arms, and we held each other very tight. Also not fair that she’s much stronger than me cuz her tight is like a damn death grip sometimes. “I’m sorry you feel that way,” she said to me.

“I don’t mean to.”

“I know.”

“It’s just … You get that way with littles. I thought it was just Jane, but you were the same way with Ann, and we hardly know her.”

“I just like it. It’s fun to get excited and make them smile. I like making them feel special.”

“I wanna make you that happy.”

“You do, Daffy.”

“I wanna make you smile like that.”

“You do.”

“It’s not the same, the way you look at them. I can tell.” Wow, I really shouldn’t have said that.

“That’s not true, Daphne. Don’t you tell me I don’t look at you the same way.” She sounded cross, in a gentle way but the sharpness in her tone was unmistakable. “It’s roleplay. I feel so many ways about you that I never feel about Jane, and I don’t even know Ann. Don’t tell me I don’t just because I put on a face for them. It’s roleplay. I’ll stop if you want me to, but don’t try to tell me that this is because of how I feel and not because of how you feel.”

I slid off her lap and sat next to her facing the room but not looking at anything. “I’m sorry.” Also missing back when I used to be able to have this kind of conversation (or was this a fight?) and not cry.

“You’re jealous, Daff. That’s what you’re feeling, and you’re making yourself feel worse. It’s okay to feel jealous sometimes.”

“I just … It’s not just that. I don’t like feeling like they can give you something I can’t.”

“Daff, look at me.” I did. She had such a serious face on, I didn’t even give it a quirky name. “You don’t like sharing me with other littles.”

O my fucking gawd. “I’m not a little!”

“What then? What do you think they’re giving me that you aren’t? You are everything. You are …” She shook her head. “Fucking cliché,” she muttered. “You are my whole life. You’re everything I ever wanted or will want, and I’ve made sure you know that in every way I possibly can. You don’t like seeing me being a big to other littles. You have no problem seeing me be a domme with other subs, but you get upset when I’m being a big with Jane and now with Ann.”

“I don’t.”

“I’ve seen you shoot daggers out of your eyes at Jane when she’s in little space and wants my attention, and you looked ready to slap Ann across the face.”

“That’s … It’s got nothing to do with her being a little.”

“Yes it does! Why is that so hard? I don’t care if you want to call yourself a little or not. You’re … You’re Daphne! You’re you. I don’t care about labeling roles. I don’t care about all the friggin connotations. I care that we keep ending up back in this exact same conversation, and I don’t know how to break out of this pattern. Sometimes it’s me; sometimes it was my fault, and I apologized til I was blue in the face. But this isn’t. This is you inventing a reason to be upset.”

“That is not fair, Mary!”

She sighed heavily and softened her voice. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Okay, so we slipped into the ageplay thing together by accident, but you’re the one who leaned into it first. You’re the one who pushed the boundaries.

She took a deep breath. “You’re right. I’m sorry, and you’re right. But I still don’t know what you want me to do. Just tell me, and I’ll do it. You know I will. All you have to do is say it.”

“I don’t know what I want you to do.”

“Do you want me to stop being big with Ann?”

My turn to take a deep breath. “No.”

“Then what? Daphne, I need you to tell me what the solution is here.”

“I don’t have a solution. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then I guess I don’t understand.”

O my god, what have we been talking about? Fine, lemme spell it out for ya: “You’re not her mommy!”

“So it is about her being little and me being big!”

“Yes! But no. It’s about … affection. When littles … You get affectionate. You use … You don’t talk to me like that. You don’t act the same way in the same way, if that makes any sense.”

It must’ve because her response was, “If I did, you’d get pissed at me. Every time I’ve come close, it’s ended in a conversation like this.”

“I know.”

“So then what are you saying,” she practically pleaded with me.

“I already said it.”

“What, Daphne? What?”

“YOU’RE NOT HER MOMMY! YOU’RE MINE!”

 

 

[Guilend]

Wow. Just wow. I didn't see that coming, like, at all. I thought it would end a tad differently, but close to that, just like a deep conversation that would later on and many chapters later get here. But that was amazing. 

[SolSombraYSoldados]

Awww, poor Daffy. But this is progress! I'm happy for her. 

Also I predict that there will be big tears and a run on the house's chocolate supplies. But yay for her cute admission.

[diaperboymi]

Wow?.  What an interesting twist.  Daffy has a revelation ?.  Love this story❤️

[kerry]

love love love this!

I did not see that specific dialogue coming, but it did seem that something very significant had to happen. ?

 

 

[bobindiapers]

Wow, what an ending to this chapter! I'm really curious to see where this leads.

[YourFNF]

On 2/25/2023 at 1:00 PM, Alex Bridges said:

“YOU’RE NOT HER MOMMY! YOU’RE MINE!”

 

 

I'm so happy that Daphne was finally able to be honest with herself and own it and I'm so glad they finally had this talk!

[Alex Bridges]

Scene #205

 

I would’ve noticed Mary’s surprised I-can’t-believe-she-just-said-that face, but I was too busy thinking to myself, holy fudge muffins, Daphne, I can’t believe you just said that! Cuz I still can’t believe I said that. True story.

Mary got visibly anxious with the clenching and unclenching of the fists and walking in such a tight circle that really she just turned around and turned around again. It would’ve made me very nervous, but (A) I had already made myself very nervous and (2) I was busy catastrophising in my head to notice very much.

“What …” Mary asked.

“No!”

“What no?”

“No, I don’t know what I mean or what that means or what I want.”

“Deep breath.”

Why!?! Which of us is hyperventilating? I’ll you who - ME! That’s who! 
 

“Heeeeehoooooo.” Give Mary credit for having a good idea. ‘There goes, Daphne,’ people say, ‘She always gives credit where credit is due, but damn does she have big feelings she has a hard time sorting out sometimes.’ Those people have a point is what they have.

“If sit down, will you sit with me,” Mary asked.

“Yeah,” I said and didn’t even flop down in Mary’s lap. I’m not a flopper. In fact, I’m quite rigid. Really. Shut up!

“Who are you mad at?”

So many people! But actually, “No one. I only thought I was. Or I was but I’m over it. Or I was mad at life and took it out on others … you. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m glad we had this talk finally.”

“What now?”

“What do you mean what now?”

“I finally called you my mommy.”

“Well, you should probably start calling me ‘mommy’ or maybe ‘mama’ all the time.”

“Hmmph! No.”

“Mommy.”

“Mary.”

“Mama.”

“Mary.”

“Ma … ma.”

“Ma … ry.”

“You are such a tease,” she said and tickled my side where I’m ticklish which is why she tickles me there. Did I mention she’s mean ever, cuz she is even sometimes when she’s being very nice. “Nothing’s changed, Daffy.”

“It didn’t?”

“Not unless you want it to. Do you want something to change?”

“No … Yeah.”

“What?”

“The next time we see Ann, you’re too busy performatively smothering me with affection to notice her.”

“What are we performing?”

“Best lesbian ageplay couple. It’s very important for reasons I can’t explain that Jo and Ann know that we’re way gayer for each other than the two of them could ever be.”

“You’re a silly goose. Do you know that?”

“I’m a jealous, bitchy goose riddled with insecurities.”

“You’re a goose who’s much too hard on herself. But ya know what?”

“You like me anyway?”

“I like you anyway, and I think it’s just a phase you’ll grow out of.”

“Really?”

“Sure. Little girls go through all sorts of phases.”

“Marrrry! I’m not a little girl.”

“You’re my little girl.”

“I suppose you wanna have make-up sex now.”

“Why? Did we have a fight? … O! You’re doing that thing where you get crudely sexual to distract from your embarrassment.”

“O my gawd! Stop calling me out.”

She’s always calling me out. I mean, yeah, someone needs to cuz there’s literally no other limit on the endless font of nonsense that comes outta me, but she could also, ya know, not.

“You’re over tired,” she straight up called me out again.

“Only cuz I’ve been stressing about this party for days and got my emotions all knotted up,” I straight up called myself out. Mary gave me a peck on the cheek and went to the bathroom, coming back up with a warm damp washcloth.

“Look up for me,” she said and I turned my quote “pretty face” up unquote so she wipe at the almost non-existent tear streaks on my face.

“You’re mothering me,” I said super sarcastically but, ya know, not.

“I’m taking care of you. When do I not wipe your cheeks when you’ve been crying?”

“Some of the time.”

She folded the washcloth and held it in front of my nose. “Honk.”

“I don’t hafta blow.”

“Humor me.”

Ugh. Fine. “(Hooooonk!)” So turns out I did hafta.

“Sorry I got teary,” I told her. “Promise I don’t do it to emotionally blackmail you.”

“O shush. Lay back; all the way like you’re going to sleep.”

“Um, why?”

“Cuz you’re going to sleep, silly. Be right back; just gonna toss this in the hamper, and then I’ll tuck you in.”

“Wait, you’re not coming to bed?”

“Of course I am; right after I tuck you in.””

“O…kay.”

“I like tucking you in, okay? It’s a mommy thing.”

“We need to negotiate that word,” I said cuz it’s still super complicated and let’s, ya know, not get carried away or even really think of what I said as having any meaning at all. Yep, that would be the safest play: return to our state of detente.

“Not tonight we don’t.”

“I’m still not a little girl.”

“You’re still my little girl.“

And then! And then she put the wash cloth in the hamper, kissed me on the forehead, and tucked the covers all the way under my chin. And then! And then!!! She got in bed next to me and snuggled up so close and made these happy sighing noises.

I think I make her happy or something.

[YourFNF]

Daphne is really still fighting with that denial.

[BabySerenity]

5 minutes ago, YourFNF said:

Daphne is really still fighting with that denial.

Trying so hard to be grown up but better suited to be the little girl she is!! Just can’t accept that she is!!

[Alex Bridges]

13 minutes ago, YourFNF said:

Daphne is really still fighting with that denial.

 

6 minutes ago, BabySerenity said:

Trying so hard to be grown up but better suited to be the little girl she is!! Just can’t accept that she is!!

I’m telling Daphne you said that! ?

[BabySerenity]

1 minute ago, Alex Bridges said:

 

I’m telling Daphne you said that! ?

Ooooooohhhhh I am what I am I accept it!! But if she did the stories over so she gonna deny it as long as she can!! I don’t blame her!!

[SolSombraYSoldados]

22 minutes ago, BabySerenity said:

Ooooooohhhhh I am what I am I accept it!! But if she did the stories over so she gonna deny it as long as she can!! I don’t blame her!!

I don't know that the story would have to end. There'd be plenty to for Daffy to resist going forward.

Though if Lexi wanted to do a title switch, a new title could always be something along the lines of, "What do you mean I have to wear diapers to the ______ ?!"

[Alex Bridges]

2 hours ago, SolSombraYSoldados said:

I don't know that the story would have to end. There'd be plenty to for Daffy to resist going forward.

Though if Lexi wanted to do a title switch, a new title could always be something along the lines of, "What do you mean I have to wear diapers to the ______ ?!"

One day (but probably not) I could start a sequel series titles “Okay, I Might Be a Little Girl“

[SolSombraYSoldados]

55 minutes ago, Alex Bridges said:

One day (but probably not) I could start a sequel series titles “Okay, I Might Be a Little Girl“

Subtitle suggestions:

• "But don't tell Mommy."
• "But probably not."
• "And I should get a treat."

 

??

[Kotatsu]

Another possible title in 'It's not like I want to be a little girl or something. Mama'.

[thedman]

1 hour ago, Alex Bridges said:

One day (but probably not) I could start a sequel series titles “Okay, I Might Be a Little Girl“

Or "Okay, I Might Be a Good Little Girl"

[Alex Bridges]

1 hour ago, SolSombraYSoldados said:

Subtitle suggestions:

• "But don't tell Mommy."
• "But probably not."
• "And I should get a treat."

 

??

Other options include 

• But not really - really!
• But only cuz Mary says

[Guilend]

One of the chapters could be "Mary made me do. " Or "Nana wouldn't let me go. "

[diaperboymi]

The first step has been taken.  Can wait to see what's next?????