Mary and Daphne #108

I’m okay. Really. I just had a bad dream that something happened to Mary. It’s totally reasonable after such a dream that I’d roll over and koala her whole body so tight that when we woke up she’d say, “Aww, look who thinks she’s big enough to be the big spoon.”

“Am too,” I sleepily squeaked cuz I wasn’t done sleeping yep.

“If you squeeze me so tight, I can’t roll over and give you a good morning kiss.” Sigh … I’m so put upon. I let her go and she smooched me. I liked it. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” I yawned.

“Are you still sleepy,” she asked me.

“A little,” I yawned again and stretched. “Mary.”

“What?”

“Just Mary. I like waking up next to you.”

“Mmm. Me too.”

And then we fell back asleep, which was great because I was still tired, we had nothing we needed to be awake for, and sleep is better than most of the things that aren’t sleep. Really. It’s science.

“This feels funny,” I told her as we started to get dressed for the day after missing breakfast at the main building at the resort. We had our own little cabana.

“What does,” she asked as she put a sock on. Damn, but the way she unrolled that sock all the way to her ankle? Got me hot. Not that I’m a sock fetishist or a victim of anklephilia, but she has the prettiest ankle bones with the slender … so I may have a philia for Mary’s ankle. Or possible Mary in ankle socks cuz she’s just so domestically wholesome and scrumptious and stuff.

“This,” I said. “It feels like we’re on a second honeymoon.” It did, somehow.

“Maybe because of the pandemic,” she mused. “Like our first two years together as wife and wife got cut short by the pandemic, so now we get a do over.”

“Is that how it works? You’re newlyweds for two years?”

“I think, Daphne Ann,” she said to me as she got up off the bed and stalked over to me like a tigress, “that I don’t ever want to be anything but your newly wedded wife.”

“Ya know (sniff), Mary, if you wanna get me (sniff) all hot and bothered, you shouldn’t make me cry.” Not that my voice broke at the end of that, but confession: it did. Yes, for once I misled you, but just the once and only very briefly. Only very, very briefly. Really.

“I’m sorry,” she said while squeezing me all lovingly and stuff.

“For what?”

“For how hard the last year was. You’ve been such a trooper.”

“I’m sorry, too, but ya know something?”

“What?”

“I’m glad we got to spend so much time together. I wanna spend all my natural disasters with you.”

“Awww.” Ooo, she kissed me! “That’s what I like about you, Daffy. You can find the silver lining in anything.”

I’m beginning to think she’s glad she married me or something, which is very reassuring, not that I’m the type of person who needs lot of reassurance. There’s goes Daphne, people say, she doesn’t need much in the way of reassurance. Really.

“Wanna buy me breakfast,” I asked, because it’s the most important meal of the day, and off we went hand in hand to the dining room to see if we could find some brunch.

“You know what we should do,” I said as we walked along the shore. “We should go out to that island.”

“We can do that.”

“And I can tip the canoe right at the shoreline.”

“Why would you do that?”

“So you won’t have to make up an excuse to make me cut a switch from that willow tree. I’m considerate like that.” Ya know what else? She grabbed my butt and gave it a squeeze right where onlookers could look on. Told ya she likes me and stuff.

“Daphne Ann,” she said all pretend shocked by my future misbehavior, “that is so naughty. Are you gonna be naughty today?”

“That’s my plan. I’ve been o so well behaved for a whole year and then some … It’s not nice to smirk, Mary.”

“Was I smirking?”

“Mhmm, but maybe you didn’t notice cuz your hand is in my pocket. Anyway, I think I’ll probably need at least two spankings in my one piece while we’re here, at least one of them when I’m dripping wet.”

“Are you topping from the bottom, missy?”

“I’m just telling you that while we’re here I’m gonna earn some spankings, some of them away from our cabin, some of them while wearing my one-piece. What you do with that intelligence is up to you.”

“If I spank your bottom in your swimsuit,” she inquired thoughtfully, “do you think you’ll feel it through your waterlogged swim diaper? Those one-piece suits of yours are so hard to get on and off, especially when you’re all wet. The way you just stand in front of me trying to cover yourself, wet and shivering, just melts my heart that I have to spank you when you’re like that.” Ya know something? Mary fibs. That was a fib.

“But I am merciful, too,” she said truthfully. “I can leave your swim diaper up, unless you think it will interfere with you learning a lesson.”

She … hmm. She had her inscrutable face on, and I can never tell what she’s thinking when she’s wearing that. “You didn’t bring any swim diapers.” There. Called her bluff.

“You’re right.” Phew! She held the door open for me. “I gotta stop in the gift shop real quick.”

“O … kay.” This weird thing happened all of a sudden where we went from holding hands like little love birds to her leading me by the hand like a … dammit.

I am not a little lamb lost in the woods. I’ve been around the block a time or two. I know when she’s got the devil up in her and is about to do some devilishness. It sets my spidey sense tingling, and all the little invisible hairs on my body stand up and I feel light enough to flee but never do. I just have to stand there and let it happen. Which is just … (conflicted subby noises) … dammit.

Her grip got just a little tighter on my hand as she approached the woman working in the gift shop. “Excuse me,” the evil temptress I married said as though she’s polite and properly socialized and not five-feet-eight-inches of chaotic evil. “Do you sell swim diapers?”

I suddenly had a terrible case of tinnitus. It was like a high-pitched, low volume, continual ping in my brain disabling all the higher order cognitive functions. But no need to panic. The woman didn’t know they were for me. Which they weren’t even! They were for Mary! Duh! I just had to remind myself because even I forget sometimes who owns what. We are married, after all. It’s all joint property, legally speaking, but really, in the padded underpants department, I’m more than willing to generously cede ownership to Mary. Really.

Hey, pay attention, said the voice in my head, she’s leading you somewhere. And of course a summer resort sells swim diapers in the gift shop. They have that sign out in front of the pool that says all swimmers who are not toilet trained or who are incontinent must wear swim diapers or plastic panties. I just figured it didn’t apply to me cuz the sign doesn’t say All those cursed with an erotic humiliation fetish whose wives have decided to torture them with diapers must also wear swim diapers. But like they’d even fit me. She was just teasing. I mean, pay gift store prices for a pack of swim diapers just to tease me? As if, right? Right? Please?

“Are these the biggest ones you have,” Mary asked the woman. Wait, what?

“Yep, hun. Those are real stretchy, though. How big is your little one?”

Which is when Mary cast her evil eye on me. The Dark Lord Sauron? One eye. Mary? Two eyes, twice the evil, and each one a soft blue that gets all sparkly when she’s about to humiliate me in public.

“Mary,” I whispered. I’m not good at whispering, but I can pull it off when I need to, and I did just then.

Mary is great at whispering and just chose not to. “A size four. A little bigger than most little girls, but she has slim hips.”

“Four, huh? Those oughta work. Hopefully she won’t need them much longer, but better safe than sorry,” the woman chuckled. I felt my dander rising and then remembered she wasn’t talking about me but some imaginary toddler who wears a 4T.

“Mary,” I said in my gold medal whisper voice. “We don’t …

“May as well try them,” she said as she reached right down and – get this! – took them off the shelf. I mean, who even does that? It’s just … outrageous, right? “And I have a feeling we’ll be needing these at least through the summer.”

Who is this person holding my hand? And where are we going? The cash register? Whatever for?

“Is that all you need today?”

“Yep,” The Dark Lord Mary said. What dark lord says ‘yep’ all breezy like? It’s ridiculous. It’s ridiculous and stuff! “Then I gotta get some breakfast in my little one’s tummy. We slept in.”

“O,” the woman said, “there’s no price tag on this one. Just a sec.”

While she walked away, I decided to talk sense to Mary, but before I could she leaned over and whispered into my ear. I told you she can whisper just fine when she wants to! Anyway, she whispered, “Don’t you cum in those pretty little panties of yours unless you want me to take you to the ladies’ room and spank your bare little girl bottom, Daphne Ann.”

Fgfr4htugt.

I forgot what I was gonna say. And am I making my raccoon-in-the-flashlight face? … Dammit.

“On your room,” the woman asked as she rung up the little pink package that cost more than my whole college education. Or $14.99. I can’t remember which, but it was outrageous. Outrages beings committed all over the resort and all of them directed at me indirectly or otherwise. At least the woman didn’t think they were for me. Which they weren’t. Mary’s. Like the woman said: on your room. I wasn’t renting a room. Mary was. So … there.

“Any chance we can return them if they don’t fit,” Mary asked.

“Sorry, but we can’t take them back once they’ve been opened. Need a bag.”

Of course we … “Nope, that’s alright,” Mary said. “Thanks for your help.”

“Happy to. I hope they fit her,” the woman who didn’t even know what a huge bitch she was being said like it was 10:45 on a beautiful sunny summer day and not the day my wife decided to find out if she could squeeze me into toddler-sized swim diapers. Which she hadn’t yet. So maybe she wouldn’t? Of course she wouldn’t, right? Right? Please?

We turned to walk out of the store and to breakfast, where Mary owed me a waffle for putting up with her shenanigans. At least it was only embarrassing in my head; the woman just thought there was some unseen kiddo somewhere who was a little old to need swim diapers, but we all grow at our own pace, better safe than sorry, etcetera. No real harm done to my stellar reputation, which I’ve cultivated for an entire lifetime. Really. At least, no harm done to that point.

“There, sweetiepie,” Mary said like she’s innocent of anything which she is not (grrr!). “Now you can go swimming in the pool.” And don’t even tell me she doesn’t know how to whisper cuz she just friggin did it! Ahhhh!

“Fnurple.” I am not insane but if I am Mary made me that way!

“What?” Mary’s confused face.

I’m sorry did I say something? I think it was a verbal sneeze, like my brain said say something and the rest of my brain said what the fuck are we supposed to say in this awful, horrible no good, kinda making me tingly, terrible situation?!? Riddle me that! And the first part said, Fnurple … So … there. Take that! … I guess … Dammit.

Sometimes it takes two tries. No shame in that. “Um,” I tried again. O, very clever. Shut up. No you shut up!

“You wanna hold your swimmies?”

O, you just think you’re so smooth like you’re sweet as a preschool teacher putting a bandaid on a skinned knee, you magnificent so-and-so I married. My gaze went from Mary to the woman, who was trying very hard to look like she wasn’t listening when that stupid voice inside my head said, you still haven’t said anything other than fnurple and um.

“Daphne,” Mary filled the silence, “do we need to go to the ladies’ room?”

Ugh! As if! Why not just tell the woman I … wait, what is she asking exactly?

“I …” See, I didn’t lose the power of speech … at least not permanently. “I’m hungry.”

“I bet you are,” Mary said as she took my hand and led me out of the store and into the lobby.

Hey, my brain said, did you know you’re carrying a pretty pink package of pink pretty swim diapers?

Mhmm, my brain said back to my brain.

And did you notice the dining room is over there and she’s leading you toward the family restroom?

O. Wonder what’s gonna happen in there.