Mary and Daphne #197

"Mary," I asked, "do you think Santa is gonna bring me stuff tomorrow?"

"Of course Santa is going to bring you stuff. Why would you even ask?"

"Because I've been naughty. I'm on lists and stuff. Remember when you made me write ‘Daphne has been naughty’ 500 times? He saw that; he always watching, judging. I think he even reads my diary ... It's very disconcerting."

"You're such a silly Christmas goose."

"Am not."

"The silliest, Christmasiest, goosiest goose."

"You're always saying that."

"You're always being so silly," Mary said with the confidence only a dominant can have, as though she alone decides who's silly and who's goosey.

But I’ve has never been the type of submissive to let such verbal transgressions against my character stand. "She says I'm silly; her, the same woman who took my pants away in case we do get carolers. 'They'll just see a little girl in her Christmas diaper,' she says. 'I'm sure they're use to it,' she says. Hmmph."

"Ding dong."

"What?"

"Ding dong," Mary sing-songed, giving my tummy a poke. "It's the carolers, and they wanna sing carols to little girls."

"O drat; we don't know any of those."

"I do; I do know a little girl!" Mary held me firm in her left arm and tickled my tummy and underarms and sides and chinny-chin-chin, and I didn’t squeal and squirm and squee; fake news. But I also didn't move an inch out of Mary's  embrace.

Out of breath, I decided to inform Mary, "I think we're both silly, but I think you're sillier." Calling your domme silly is a risk, but that’s me – Christmas risk taker.

"Being a tickle monster is very serious business, Daphne Ann Taylor. You'll understand when you're not a little girl."

"I'm not a little girl! Really."

"Are."

"Am not."

"So are."

"So am not!"

"If you say so ... By the way, this year I'm giving the gift of humoring of you, and you just unwrapped it."

"Marrrrry!!! Hmmph! Santa's watching you too, ya know."

"Santa and I have an arrangement."

"Does this have anything to do with Mrs. Claus waking me up this morning? She's sexy and looks like you."

"Yeah? Anything else you noticed about her?"

"She spanks hard and smells like candy canes ... And the fuzzy white panties she was wearing should make many non-Christmas appearances."

"And for each spank, Santa took one strike off your naughty list."

"Do you think he's bringing me any panties?"

"Nope, but he'll bring you a fresh diaper and let you open it just as soon as you use this one."

"Grumble mutter murmur mumble."

"She says she's not a silly goose, and then she says stuff like 'murmur mumble'. And what are all these little goose bumps doing on your slender little legs if you're not a silly goose? Are you cold?"

"If I say yes, can I have my pants back? Asking for my friend who is me."

"Nope; we're gonna hafta move closer to the fire and snuggle until it's time to put out cookies for Santa."

"Cookies, a spanking, and all those things I did to Mrs. Claus and let her do to me ... For someone who allegedly just gives stuff away for free, he sure drives a heccin hard bargain ... Does he take donations, cuz I'll do all that stuff all the times." True story.

"Heehee! You are such a silly goose!"

"Am not."

"Merry Christmas, Daffodil."

"Merry Christmas,  Mary ... Mary?"

"Mhmm?"

"Do you think there's any chance Mrs. Claus will sleep in our bed tonight?"

"There's a chance."

"And do you think I can be the big spoon so I can, uh, put my hands, um, on those fuzzy panties all night? Asking for my friend; a different one this time ... who is also me. Really."

"What do I normally say when you wanna be the big spoon?"

"That's I'm too little."

"But on this Christmas, you can be the big spoon."

"Awwww. You're so awesome and stuff."

"How could I say no after you've been such a good girl?"

"What did you call me?"

"A good girl."

"Squeeeeeee! Not to brag or nothin', but you think I'm a good girl."

"I think you're my best girl."

"And you're my Mary."