Mary and Daphne #115

I’m not saying I’m great. I’m just saying that my chroniclers will one day write, “Whatsoever she did, she did with utmost grace and surety, as though the apotheosis of womankind.” Surely beauty, munificence, and pleasure should follow one such as me all the days of my life, and my word shall be as infallible as that of a pope on his throne (though I’m not on speaking terms with the papacy right now now, and he knows why). This, by way of scene setting …

“I will too!”

“You won’t if I tell you no, little girl,” said my chief tormentor and love of my life.

“Yes, I will, and you can’t stop me!”

“O yeah?”

“Yeah! And there’s nothing you can woah! Stop doing that!” Thinks she can just grab me and bend me over her knee whenever and wherever just because I gave her permission like she’s queen of the darn universe or something which she sorta is but don’t tell her cuz it’ll go straight to her head.

“I’ll stop doing it when you learn to do as you’re told the first time (spank).”

“I don’t believe you ow! That hurts!”

“It’s a spanking! It’s! Supposed! To! Hurt!”

O yeah. I forget sometimes. Not that I’m forgetful. I remember most things most of the time, the very opposite of forgetful. Lots of people are not forgetful, but I like to think of myself as exceptional in that regard, as I am in all other regards. “There goes Daphne,” people say, “Mind like a steel trap and butt like a wounded animal.” I hadn’t, for instance, forgotten how awkward it is to be fulcrumed over a knee with the foot attached to said knee planted on the coffee table, leaving me hanging there staring at a bowl of old cereal and getting my butt spanked.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you today, but it is not okay,” a very irate Mary said as she dismounted me from her thigh and spank-marched me to the corner. “Stay.”

“I am not a dog! You can’t just tell me to stay.”

“Stay.”

O. Okay. No doubt she was hunting down things to spank me with. “There goes Mary,” people say, “tyrannical but in a good way and probably off to inflict depredations upon that saint in royal garb, Daphne.”

I only stay in the corner because I want to, not because she’s in charge of anything, let alone in charge of me. I’m a free woman living in a free country! And stuff. It’s not like I’m scared of what will happen if I leave the corner. And stuff. I just like it in the corner … And stuff. And what do other people even know about the intricacies of corner time after the age of thirty? Nothing, that’s what … And stuff.

“Don’t know where this little outburst even came from,” Mary the Cruel said behind me.

“You mean your outburst? Ow ow ow ow ow Mary that’s my ear!” Like, seriously, grab your own ear if you wanna do some ear pulling.

“Is that why when I pull on it, the rest of you follows?”

“We’ll, yeah, that’s how OW! Keep your hands to yourself!”

“I’ll keep my hands on your bottom. Over.”

“I hate the bar stool.” Leaves me just dangling there with all my stuff on display … and stuff. “Hey!”

“I should’ve known this is how our Sunday would go,” she said as she just hoisted me over her lap like she was going to give me an over-the-knee spanking, which would just be absurd, right? Spanking me? Her wife!?! … And stuff … dammit. “I hoped losing pants privileges would’ve snapped you out of it, but I can see your attitude needs an old-fashioned remedy.”

“Hey, what are you no! You can’t take my panties down!”

“Okay, fine.”

“R-really?” Yoink!“Yowwwwlllll!”

“There’s more than one way to bare your little bottom.” Spank spank spank.

Dammit … I’mma be picking this wedgie until Christmas. She practically split me in half, which is so much fun in other context but not when we’re talking about her repetitiously striking my unbeclothed bottom with her hand. There’s a name for that … I just forget what it is … And stuff.

“When I tell you no, what are you supposed to do?”

“Whatever the heck I heccin I want OW! Go easy on me, Mary, I’m a redhead OW!”

“What’s that (spank) got to do (spank) with (spank) anything (spank)?”

“Um (ow) we’re (ouch) we’re rare (ugh!) and (ack! dammit!) valuable ow ow ow ow no fair hairbrush hairbrush! Ow ow OWOWOW eeeeeee!”

“Stop!! Struggling!! And hold! Still!!!”

“Eeeeeeee!”

Gets kinda fuzzy after that. I remember, “What the heck has gotten into you! (Sound of grizzlies protecting their young). Don’t know where this attitude came from but (artillery preparation before a battle). And I am not going to put up with (yowling jungle cat). Do you understand me, (chest thumping sasquatch)?”

Glad I never make such caterwauling nonsense when we have these little chats. “Eeeeee (bleating of a moose) eeeeee (screeching tires) eeeeeee (sound of loons over a still lake) and I eeeee (sound of someone crying).”

“I mean it, Daphne Ann. If it means leaving the stool and brush in the living room and putting you across my lap every day, you will remember to be my submissive little girl and do as I say.”

“But I’m not (sob inward) a little girl (sob outward)!” And stuff.

“You are if I say you are (spank).” Which is such a big thing to say.

This whole thing coulda been avoided.

Like I really need the voices in my head siding with her.

Woulda saved you from a spanked butt.

Aw, bite me.

Very mature. You know there’s a forty to yes percent chance she puts you in one of your diapers before lunch.

They’re not mine and you know it!

Mhmm.

Shut up!

Make me.

Urgh!

“I asked you a question, Daphne.” It so rude to interrupt people when they’re arguing with themselves. “Are you going to make good choices the rest of today?”

“Y-yes.” But I make no promises about tomorrow.

“Okay then, sit up and let me give you a hug.”

“‘Kay.” One of these days, I’m going to be sitting in her lap on that stool after one of her spankings, and we’re gonna tip backwards and probably get hurt. We should maybe do something about that.

“I’m sorry you needed such a hard spanking.”

“Me too.”

“Your eyes are all puffy.”

“Cuz you spanked me,” I said while not nuzzling into her neck.

“Cuz you needed a spanking.”

“I needa bow my ‘ose (snurlfle).”

“Heehee. Let’s go get you a tissue to honk, and I’ll wash your pretty face for you.”

“Okay.”

“And then you can have a cookie.”

“Okay … hey!”

“What,” she asked like she’s innocent of anything which she is not and never has been!

“You telling me no to a cookie is what started it!”

“What is it you say, Daffy? That was, like, three hundred seconds ago?” She stood me up and led me toward the bathroom.

“You’re cruel.”

“I know.”

“And my butt hurts.”

“I know that too.”

“And I love you … And stuff.”

“I love you too and stuff.”

“Justice will find you one day.”

“I am the justice around here.”

“Yeah … dammit.”

“Ha!”