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Mary and Daphne #12
🕑 Added 2020-02-25 00:18:56 +0000 UTC
Scene #12
We all have our bad days. Days when we just don’t have the fortitude to deal with bullshit anymore, when we just can’t hold it in anymore. If we’re lucky, we take that out on the people causing it. If we’re not lucky, we take it out on unsuspecting bystanders. If we’re really not lucky, we do this where Mary can see, and then Mary reminds us, in her words, “how to be a good girl.”
Now, I should be clear. I AM a good girl. I have a pair of underpants that say so, which makes it official. They don’t sell those to just anybody. I just forget I’m a good girl sometimes, like when my boss yells at me over the phone so loud that colleagues call me later to see if I’m alright, because apparently it was enough of a scene to become a topic of office conversation that day.
And because I was having the unluckiest day ever, it wasn’t simply a waitress I took out my frustration on or another driver or a sales clerk or someone we didn’t know. It was Sandy, who’s stopped by just to hang.
To set the scene, imagine Mary and Sandy are in the kitchen standing over a bottle of wine and some crackers. And keep in mind my relationship with Sandy. We’re friends, but she’s also brilliant at getting my goat and backing me into situations that end with my butt red, plus the instigator behind Mary’s pull-up policy. She’s a shit disturber, basically, and so am I, and in my rotten mood and anticipating she’d try to disturb some shit, I was arguing with her in my head as soon as I found out she was coming over. I was winning that fight, too.
I wasn’t really in a hanging out kind of mood, but I stopped in the kitchen for a glass with the intention of heading back upstairs and being antisocial.
What happened was, Sandy said, “How are things?” And you’re thinking, wow, what a @##&@. Or probably not, actually, but I was because I was already arguing with her in my head and winning, awesomely, with my impeccable logic and oratorical skills.
I responded to her enquiry with, “Just $#$*@ make whatever @#&@*$ eating joke you’re gonna @#&*@$&*@ make.”
For once, even Sandy was speechless.
Huh, I said to myself. I don’t think she was taking that where maybe you were anticipating her taking that. Cue my waterworks.
“Sandy,” I said as I got teary.
Mary picked her jaw up off the floor and cut me off with, “Go ahead and say it, and then we’re going upstairs to deal with this.” Sandy actually looked embarrassed, and this was a young woman who I don’t think has ever blushed in her life. That Mary was going to take me upstairs actually had me scared, because normally Mary has zero qualms about turning me over her knee in front of someone from the scene. Shit, she barely has any qualms about paddling my ass in public.
“I’m sorry,” I pleaded. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t meant that. It’s just (babbling) and (unintelligible words) and everyone heard and (not even English) and I’m so, so sorry, and wahhhh!” That’s when I shuffled across the kitchen and fell into Mary’s arms. I cried into her breast while the two of them discussed my fate.
“Don’t spank her on my account,” Sandy said. Had to have been the very first time she ever said that. “I get it. We all have those days.”
Mary was rubbing my back and shushing me, while Sandy reached over and stroked my arm.
“Thanks for that,” Mary said, “But she needs a spanking. A big one. Trust me - it’ll make her feel better. Should’ve done it as soon as I got home, and now we have this naughtiness to deal with, too,” Mary said as she pulled my hair out of my face.
Thank god for Mary. I did need a spanking. A regular butt beating for what I’d said and for the feelings I was having. The way she looked at me while brushing my hair aside, that smile that says, I love you forever and always, and I know just what you need, is how I know I’m home wherever my Mary is.
“Little girl,” Mary said firmly but kindly, “go put yourself in a corner.” Did she really have to call me that in front of Sandy? Of course Sandy calls me that already. I just don’t like for her to have the satisfaction. I swallowed and scurried off.
I put myself in my naughty corner in our bedroom, and while I was standing there I decided to save Mary the trouble and bared my own bottom. As ridiculous as it seems, that always struck me as a grown up thing to do. Little girls don’t do that, just as mature, kinky ones. Mary always swats my hands out of the way if I try to do it myself, but she wasn’t there to stop me.
I felt a lot more nervous than usual when I heard the stakes creak and the door close, but the rule is no turning around until I’m called. It was cold in the bedroom with no pants on, but I knew I’d probably be warm soon enough.
“Daphne,” Mary finally called to me, “come sit.” I turned around and crossed the room to sit on the end next to Mary. To my surprise, she leaned over and kissed me on the forehead. I expected her to be lecturing and gesticulating and generally going off on me, which is what I’d have done to me. Instead she just said, very quietly, “We’re going to get you all sorted out, and you’ll be a good girl again, and you can come back downstairs. Ok?”
I nodded, dry mouthed and unable to talk.
“Lay back, little girl.”
I’d have protested that I hate being spanked in the diaper position. Everything(!) is on display in that position. There’s nothing to do with your hands. And you have to look at the person. Worst time for eye contact ever, even if it is Mary. But instead I just slowly eased myself back with Mary still sitting next to me on my left.
I was confused, and I figured I might get off a little easier for being not just cooperative but helpful, so I said, “Do you want the paddle?”
“No. I don’t think we need that tonight.”
I shuddered as I exhaled. Mary wasn’t angry with me. Only me was angry with me. I relaxed, but already I had a lump in my throat, not the normal kind you get from a spankings but the kind you get from feeling like you matter to someone.
Mary put her arm under my knees and pushed them backward, using her shoulder to keep them there and putting her hand on my bottom. Her fingernails teasing the taut skin of my butt cheeks felt electric. She swirled them over me, finding those parts not normal so exposed during a spanking, and as I fought the twin urges to sob and sigh, she shushed me as she pulled her palm away and brought it down hard, leaving it there before pulling it back again.
Mary is a fast and furious spanker. Her slow hands are saved for when she wants to take her time and make a point. One spank at a time, she was making that point, starting at my thighs, stretched tight and accentuating the awful sting, and working her way down.
I tried to think about something other than the pain as she sped up, and all I could think about was what I said to Sandy. And I tried to think of something other than Sandy, and all I could think about was my boss screaming at me. So I gave up and tried not to think about anything, which just freed me up to whimper, then sob, then cry. Great big, snotty tears. I just let it all out, every bit of it, while Mary turned my butt red from its top to almost my knees. I gripped the covers in my hands, gritted my teeth, and submitted to the spanking that I needed and earned. It wasn’t right of me to take out my bad day on Sandy. I don’t mean to be such a bitch sometimes. My cries were mixing with squeals now as I tried to hold still. I wanted to roll away from Mary, and I forced myself to stay there. Finally just let my hands relax and took my spanking, too tired to do anything else.
Then she took her hand away, and instead of another spank, I felt her fingernails again, teasing my bottom again. I still felt awful. “I’m sorry,” I moaned.
“Shhh. I’m sorry, too.” She set my legs back down, and I could feel the heat from my butt radiating back from the covers, the bedspread feeling rough against my sensitive, spanked skin.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” I groaned, still through tears, “I’ve been awful for weeks.”
“Stay right there,” Mary said. “I got a surprise for you. Keep your eyes closed.” She brushed a finger against my chin as she stood up. I put my arms over my face.
She was back in a moment. “No peeking, and open your legs.” I wasn’t really in the mood for sex, but I figured why not give Mary’s surprise a try. “Lift your hips for me.” I’m not sure what exactly was a surprise about oral, but I lifted my hips anyway.
The surprise was instead of feeling lips on top of me, I felt her slide something under me, and I had a good idea of what it was before I even took my arms away. “Down.” The crinkle confirmed it. I knew Sandy gave her one. I just didn’t think she’d ever use it.
“Mary,” I whined as I took my arms from my eyes, “please don’t. I’ll be good! I promise.” She ignored me, and I watched her, concentrating on the smile on her face, as she pulled the front of that diaper through my legs and spread it over my hips. Such a vibrant, happy smile. “I don’t wanna,” I pleaded, but I didn’t resist. I barely even argued. I put my head back and resumed crying as she tore the first tape and sealed one side of my diaper - no, her diaper! - and felt the next three tapes sealed as she tugged at my hips.
It felt so much tighter than the pull-ups, and it felt so much heavier and thicker, too. “Please take it off! I learned my lesson. Please!”
“Shhh,” was all Mary said in return. She still hadn’t even acknowledged anything I’d said. Instead, she laid down next to me, reached over me, and pulled me up so my face was buried in chest. “Calm down, sweetie. Shhh. Just relax.” THWUMP. I felt a heavy pat on my butt. THWUMP. I kinda liked it. THWUMP. It felt different than when she did that with me in a pulp. My tears turned to slow sobs again.
“Why do I have to wear it,” I asked, admitting defeat. I wasn’t asking out; I was just asking why.
“Sit up,” Mary said. We both did. “You look liked a wet rat,” she giggled when we parted and she got a look at my face. “C’mere.” She pulled my legs over her lap and pulled my head down so I was resting it on her shoulder. She started to actually rock me, which sometimes she did if I was, like I was then, a complete emotional mess. Tears still ran occasionally, but I had the sobs under control. I hate that part, not being able to keep my diaphragm from cramping.
“This feels weird,” I said as I felt her hands stroke my edge of my hip encased in that thin plastic and heard my underwear crinkling.
“I’m sorry I didn’t spank you as soon as I got home today and saw what kind of mood you were in,” Mary said and gave me a kiss. “And I’m sorry I’ve let this go on as long as I have,” she said and gave me another one. “Tomorrow you’re quitting your job,” she said as she gave me a third kiss.
“What?”
“You’re going to waltz in there late, after we have a good breakfast together, and then you’re gonna quit. No two weeks’ notice. You’re just gonna quit, on the spot.”
I like working. I don’t want to be one of those people who just sits at home all days and cleans during commercials. And we need the money.
“But I wanna work, and I need to,” I protested.
“I know,” she said and kissed me again, “and you’ll find something else. Something better, with a boss who appreciates how smart you are and who treats you right.”
“I … okay.” I could find something else. It was more inertia that kept me working there despite that asshole.
“Okay?”
“Okay.” Mary is so soft. I like it when she holds me like this.
“C’mon,” she said as she urged me to stand up. She kept hold of my hand and led me into our bathroom. I got the first good look at myself in that ridiculous diaper. Where Sandy even find diapers this size with ponies on them? I looked ridiculous, and the thing looked huge on me, but I’m thin-framed.
“Mary, I wanna take this off.” Though I did like how it was keeping the heat of the spanking in.
“I know you do,” she said as she wet the hand towel under the sink and soaped it up. “Head up.” I closed my eyes and felt the soapy towel against my face. She wiped away the tears and around my nose, then covered my nose with it and said, “blow.”
I honked. She got a clean towel from under the sink and dried my face. “So pretty,” she told me. She stepped aside so I could see myself in the mirror again. “See? Such a pretty little girl.” I blushed.
“But about the diaper, Mary?”
“Uh huh,” she humored me as she there the wet towel in the hamper.
“Please can I take it off?”
“Why,” she said as she reached over and squeezed a butt cheek hard through it.
“Because it’s embarrassing. I don’t need diapers,” I whined. “Can I wear pull-up instead?” That is how much I wanted out of the damn thing.
“Of course you need diapers, because I said so, silly girl.” She stepped behind me and put her arms around my waist, placing her hands on my opposite hip, pressing the wings of that diaper. “If we didn’t have any, I’d send you out to get some, and you’d do it,” she said and kissed me on the neck, “just because (kiss) I said so (kiss kiss kiss). Wouldn’t you?”
“Yes,” I huffed. “But I’m too old for diapers.” Which made zero sense. I was too old for pullups and spanking, and for that matter I was too old for the kind of temper tantrum I’d just thrown in our kitchen.
“If you say so, sweetie,” Mary said, ignoring my argument, weak as it was, “Now, let’s go see what Sandy is up to.”
“She’s still here?”
“Of course! I wouldn’t send her home just because you were naughty. C’mon.” She took my hand again and led me back through our bedroom. I looked longingly at the shorts I’d discarded in the corner, knowing if Mary was going to let me wear anything over the diaper she’d have stopped.
“Like this,” I pleaded anyway.
“Sandy has seen lots of little girls in diapees,” Mary responded.
“Stop calling me that,” I gently whined. Mary ignored me. I followed as slow as I could without dragging my feet until we got to the edge of our living room. Then I hit the brakes. Mary didn’t try to pull me along. She just stopped. Sandy must’ve looked up wondering what was going on. I kept my feet planted firmly on our hardwood floor.
Mary let go of my hand and slid her palm up my arm and around my neck, gently turning me so I was facing her. “I’m right here,” she whispered. “Everything is okay.”
“Promise?”
“Always.” With her arm around me, she guided me into the living room while I stared at my feet and listened to my panties crinkling.
“Everything alright,” Sandy asked.
“Yeah. We’re just a little shy,” Mary answered for me.
“You feeling better,” Sandy asked me.
“Uh huh,” I squeaked.
“Wanna share my blanket with me?” Mary gave me a gentle push, and I padded over to the couch and sat down, curling my legs up under me. Mary sat next to me, and Sandy handed her the end of the blanket, which they stretched over me.
“What are we watching,” Mary asked.
I looked from the TV to Mary to Sandy to the TV to Mary. “You’re okay, Daffy,” Mary said as she hand her fingers through my hair.
My butt hurt, and I was wearing a stupid diaper, but I had Mary, so she was right. I was okay.
