Mary and Daphne #24 (Patreon)

I can’t believe I actually got sent to my room. Well, our room, but seriously? A time out is one thing, but being sent to my room? Might as well have told me ‘wait ‘til your father gets home,’ except he’d already be home because he’d be stuck in this fucking quarantine with the of us! Argg!!!

She took my phone, too. We don’t have a TV in the bedroom. I napped, but I was up there for three hours. At least she didn’t make me wait in the corner, but I knew I had a spanking coming, and, apparently, so did Sandy. Call me a brave little toaster, because I crept to the stairs to listen to them talk over the phone. I guess Mary’s ear buds died – she’s had one attached to her right ear almost constantly with the working from home for over a month now – because Sandy was on speaker phone and I heard her clearly even up the stairs.

“You have everything you need,” Mary asked Sandy.

“Yeah. We’re managing pretty well here. Rough to be thrown into it like this, but it feels good, too, to be doing my part. I’m close to graduating anyway,” Sandy was saying. Remember she’s a nursing student? She got a battlefield promotion to nurse, as it were, I guess.

“Anything we can do for you,” Mary asked.

She meant that she could do. Mary made it clear to me I’m not allowed to leave the neighborhood. I’m high-risk, and I think Mary’s exact words were, “I don’t care if you wear a diving bell. If you leave this neighborhood and get sick, I will never forgive you.” Literally the worst thing she could threaten me with, and I get her point. I’m scared for me, too.

“Yeah,” I heard Sandy say, “talk about anything other than the hospital right now. How are you guys doing?”

“Bored, like everyone else. I at least have work, though. Daphne has cabin fever big time. Getting to be a bit problematic.”

“How so?”

“It’s been six weeks. She’s just antsy. I’ve done everything I can to help keep her entertained, but she’s restless, and it’s showing.”

“She been getting into trouble,” Sandy asked. It was like listening to my mom talk with her friends, back in the day. Made me feel about two feet tall. They do that when I’m in the room sometimes, but at least then it’s obviously at least in part to embarrass me on purpose, which makes it a little fun. This was just Mary talking about me like I’m eleven because apparently she and Sandy do that sometimes, I guess, hopefully not because they think of me like I’m a kid.

“Some trouble. I’m trying to be extra patient. We’re all stressed, right? I don’t want her to remember this as the time she got spanked six times a week, but it wouldn’t be unjustified. She’s got one coming when we hang up.”

“What’d she do?”

“She interrupted me during a conference call. Third time I’ve had to tell her stay out of the office when the door is closed. Important call, too ... though I guess my boss’s boss thinking I have a kid could be a little extra job protection.”

“What?”

“She came in and got one word put before I said, ‘Do I need to find you another chore to do?’ I thought I was on mute.”

“What happened?”

“A brief pause and then every parent on the line laughed, and then we started talking about the struggle of having the kids in the house and home schooling and trying to get work done. Luckily, no one I work with everyday was on the call.”

“Are you worried about your job?” Something Mary and I had talked about a lot, with her reassuring me over and over we were secure. I guess if she were fibbing to protect me I was about to find out.

“Not really. We’re pretty busy. Keeping software systems running right now is even more critical with all the demand. Might change in six months, but word is the company is making much more this month than the same month last year.”

“I guess that’s one worry off your chest,” Sandy told her.

“Yeah. Still not sure what to do with Daphne, though.”

“You know she’s acting up because she’s scared, not just because she’s bored, right?”

“I know she was scared. She says she’s not now.”

“Of course she’s scared. Forgot about her own health. Her parents, you, your neighbor. The whole world Daphne is such a sensitive little thing.” Yep, that’s me.

“I know. I just ... it’s not easy for anyone.”

“And she knows that. I’m sure she’s worried about you, and probably feeling guilty that you’re working and she’s not, and you’re venturing out to get stuff and she’s not.”

“No, actually. I haven’t left the neighborhood this whole time. just getting everything delivered, which now means planning way in advance. This is really getting …” She paused and sighed. “Anyway, any suggestions on what do with her?”

“She was talking about getting into gardening. Buy what you need and have it delivered, then put her to work. Maybe some craft kits, too. And you can do what my mom did with me when I’d say I was bored during the summertime: download a bunch of math worksheets and make me do them.”

“Yeah, I guess. I asked her about gardening stuff and crafts, but she was reluctant to spend the money.”

“Well, she’s not in charge. Try to just take that concern away from her entirely. Your job is safe, right? Then she doesn’t need a grownup concern like that right now.”

“For now, maybe not. But we always do share in those decisions.”

“Then help her decide. But she’s gonna worry about the things she can control right now just because worrying about them makes her feel in control of something. I think for the moment you just gotta take some of that away.” How the heck is Sandy so smart and insightful when she’s only twenty-two?

“She’s ... “ Mary stopped, and I heard her sniff back a snootful, as she always says about me when I’m crying. My Mary was crying. Only a little, but Mary almost never cries. So then I wanted to cry. And I wanted to run downstairs to comfort her, but I’m supposed to be in my room ‘thinking about what I’ve done’ or something. If Mary wanted to smack my ass with an ice cream truck I’d happily take it over anything like grounding, even just for a few hours. I was one of those teens who would’ve preferred a spanking over a grounding, but it wasn’t a choice, and I knew way better than to ask. They’d have put me in therapy, at best. Not that I was in trouble a lot as a teen; I mean, I got chased by the cops, but they never caught me, so no trouble and why is it their business if we were having party in the woods in the middle of the night?

Anyway, Mary was still talking. “She’s been being so sweet, too. Trying all kinds of things to make me feel better. She’s cooking almost every meal. She’s wearing the outfits I like the most. She even – you’ll love this – said if we run short on toilet paper that she’ll use her diapers.”

“Ha! You’re kidding,” Sandy said.

Okay, for the record, I was also kidding. Mary says to me, ‘That’s very sweet of you, honey, but you’d still need to, um, clean up.’ Well, duh! I guess her sarcasm sonar was on the blink. Besides, I wouldn’t do that anyway in a bajillion years.

“And she’s even voluntarily worn one a few times lately. You know the rule, that if I put her in one it doesn’t come off until it’s wet? Usually she just tinkles and waits for me to take it off and gets back in her undies, but a couple times since last week she’s been actually using them until she’s pretty wet, and then – geez, this was so adorable – she brings me a fresh diaper and wipes and powder and just hands it to me and lifts her skirt.”

“Awwww! Maybe she’s finally starting to like it.”

For the record, nope.

“I think she just likes feeling submissive and making me happy,” Mary said.

Bingo. That’s why I did that. Mary is taking on so much right now. She’s been super busy at work, and she’s supporting us on her own and making sure I have everything I need right now. There’s not much else I can do for her that I’m not already, so I thought that would make her smile at least.

And I haven’t meant to be bratty or act up. I’ve tried to be the opposite, but of course I’m gonna get in a little more trouble under these circumstances. For one, she’s always around and it’s almost impossible to get away with stuff even when she’s not always around.

“I can’t wait until I can babysit her again,” Sandy said. See! I told you she’s my babysitter and they both know it and just won’t admit it to me. I don’t need a babysitter because (everyone join in) I’m not a little girl! Really!

“Well, I shouldn’t make her wait any longer,” Mary said.

“How many times a week is she getting spanked lately?”

“I don’t know. Maybe three times. At least one real one, but a lot more on-the-spot corrections. Last Sunday, I just kept the spoon in my back pocket all day. But real ones, like over my knee and everything, only a little more frequent than before the pandemic. Maybe once a week on average.”

“Wow. You really have been lenient with her.” Which, yeah, I’ve noticed.

“Too lenient, ya think?” And here I thought Sandy wouldn’t get a chance to stir the pot.

“Well, it’s stress relief for both of you. Maybe you should be a little more quick to spank but maybe don’t go as hard on her as you normally would. It could make you both feel better and give her plenty of reminders.”

“Maybe. Well, I’ve got a butt to paddle. Thanks for listening to me complain.”

“Anytime.”

“And seriously, if you need anything, let me know. Stay safe.”

I didn’t hear the rest because I was scampering back to the bedroom. Honestly, I had mixed feelings about Sandy’s advice. It did sound okay, but I also saw how it could quickly turn into me sporting a bruised butt all the time. What constitutes “not as hard” can be pretty damn hard in our house.

I decided to put myself in the corner and get rid of my skirt while I was at it. Might as well be cooperative. I just forgot about the office door rule, and Mary has the door closed a lot. It’s not just when she’s on the phone. She hurt my feelings a little, the way she snapped at me. I know she didn’t mean it, but still. I guess my nerves are just jangled, and I am ready to start bouncing off the floor like Tigger.

I’m trying to be extra empathetic, too. Mary is going through the same thing, and she’s working on top of it. I never forget that, and I know even if she says she’s not that she really is stressed. She’s starting work earlier, and she’s working until the time she would normally get home. Some days have been pretty long for her, and she’s just tired. I can see it. So yeah, I’ve been cooking and cleaning and trying to take care of her, too. Like she takes care of me.

“Alright,” Mary said when she came in our room, interrupting my thoughts. “Have you been in the corner the whole time?”

“No. I just thought you’d be upstairs soon.”

“And pantsless, too. Come over here.”

Mary’s been putting on her work clothes every day. Maybe not quite as nice as usual but still wearing stuff with buttons, which is a lot more effort than most people I know are putting into it. I stepped free of my skirt and walked over to where Mary was standing. I never know where to look when I’m making that walk. There’s so much implied by it. Straight at the floor says, ‘guilt and shame.’ At the floor but in front of you, ‘I know I did wrong and am ready to take my punishment,’ but if the angle is wrong then it can be read as defiant and ‘you may spank my butt, but you’ll never take my freedom.’

“You’re cold,” Mary said when I got to her and she put her hand on my shoulder to guide me toward the foot of the bed. She rubbed my arm to warm me up. My naughty spot corner is next a vent. “How are your undies,” she asked and put her hand on the Goodnite I was wearing. Again. She apparently likes me in that stuff now. Only reason I was wearing it, and only reason I had, uh, used it and not immediately asked if I could go back to panties. “A little soggy,” she said and gave my butt a squeeze. I just stood there.

“I’m sorry I interrupted your call. I didn’t mean to,” I said, kinda pathetically without meaning to. I’ve sounded kinda pathetic on purpose many times, but that one is just how it came out.

“I know, sweetheart, but it’s important you remember.”

“Did I get you in trouble?”

“O, no, honey, of course not. There’s a bunch of people who think I have a bored nine-year-old now, but I didn’t get in trouble.” I was looking at the floor still, or I would have been if she weren’t right in front of me. I nodded.

“I don’t mean to be such a pain right now. I just …”

“Daffy, you are not a pain. You’re just cooped up. I get it; you got all this energy and all these emotions and you just wanna explode. I understand. Arms up.”

I don’t get spanked nude very often, unless I’m coming out of the shower or getting my bathing suit stripped off or something. I lifted my arms, and Mary pulled my shirt off over my head and guided me toward the head of the bed. It’s a little easier to get spanked there, for me anyway. I think it’s probably harder for her because she can’t throw her leg over mine so easily, not that she does that often. Really just when she wants to lay into me and knows I’m gonna flop around even though I try to hold still (really).

I waited for Mary to get on the bed. She looked at it and then turned and looked at me. I wasn’t sure why. Her forehead was scrunched up like she was thinking something. She turned back around and got on the bed and patted her lap. More weary now than anything, I got in position laying across her thighs. She rubbed my butt and the backs of my legs and the small of my back with her hands and fingernails.

“You need to follow the rule about the door more carefully.” Smack! Her hand was heavy over the Goodnite. It didn’t hurt, but it was a solid thwump. “Up ya get.”

What? That’s not how it usually works. Not bare and just one smack?

“But you haven’t spanked me yet,” I actually said. I turned and looked her.

“Yes, I did, too” Mary said. “It’s over. You’re all forgiven.”

“But … you need to spank me for real. C’mon.” I wiggled my butt and put my chin back on my crossed arms. I haven’t had to beg for a spanking since our relationship was almost brand new. I just had to remind her I had a butt, as though she ever forgets.

“Topping from the bottom, missy,” my Mary asked with a chuckle.

“No, but you need to.”

“Are you going to follow the rule about the door?”

“Yes.”

“Then I don’t need to spank you more tonight.”

“But it’ll make you feel better.”

“What?”

“You’ll feel better,” I said quietly. She didn’t say anything for a moment.

“Will it make you feel better,” Mary asked me in that tone she uses when she’s trying to get me to talk about something. It’s the same tone parents use when they’re trying to help a kid express their feelings when they don’t have the vocabulary to do it yet. “Do you need a spanking tonight?”

“No,” I said honestly. I wasn’t particularly in the mood.

“Are you being truthful?”

“Mhmm.”

“Sit up for me,” Mary said, and I did and she helped, and when I got to my knees, a gentle nudge told me turn around so I was leaning my back against her, and she reached over and pulled the covers over us and closed her arms around me.

“This is what I need tonight,” she said. “My cute little girl to hold.” I would’ve protested about being called a little girl, but she kissed my bare shoulder, and then my neck, and then my temple, and then put her chin on my head, and pulled me back so we were lying there, just lying there together.

I was pretty content. That’s all I really wanted and had wanted since this whole thing began. Not that we didn’t cuddle plenty, but after the first week, I didn’t want to go out; I didn’t want to Zoom anyone or have virtual happy hours; I didn’t want to shop. I just wanted to cuddle with Mary.

“I know this is hard,” she said to me. She’d said that a lot. So had I. “We’ll get through it. It’s okay to be scared and worried and bored and all those other things. We’ll make it all work.”

“Sorry if I’ve been a difficult,” I told her.

“No more than you have a right to be. I haven’t been a pleasure to be around all the time either. I’ve been more impatient than I should be … sit up.”

I did, and she took off her shirt and motioned for me to lay back, and I did, except this time I turned and sat over her legs so I could put my head on her shoulder. She put her arms around me again, and we sat like that. We didn’t say anything for a while. Maybe twenty minutes. I’m sure I’d have fallen asleep if Mary didn’t ask, “What are you thinking?”

“Nothing,” I said.

“I bet you’re thinking about something,” she said and started to twirl a finger on the outside of my bare thigh.

“I was thinking, that if you take care of me, and I take care of you, then we don’t hafta worry about anything else.”

I felt Mary sigh. Leaning against her, I felt her diaphragm fall as she pushed the air from her lungs and drew in slow, gentle breaths. She kissed the top of my head, and I snuggled into her deeper and kissed her neck.

“You’re a very smart, kind, beautiful woman,” she said to me.

“I love you, Mary.”

“I love you, too, Daffy. How about a nap, and then we can make dinner together?”

“Sounds good.”

“Okay. Let’s get you into a dry diaper for the evening first. Your little fanny is soaked.”