Mary and Daphne #35 (Patreon)

Mary delivered me to Nana’s door a half hour before the window guy was supposed to arrive in a reprise of the days she’d walk over with me in the morning before she left for the office. I still don’t know why she’d done that except maybe she thought it was cute or liked saying good morning to Nana.

“Thanks, Mae,” Mary said when Nana opened her door. “Someone broke a window, and I don’t want Daffy around anyone new even with a mask.”

“Does she always tattle on you like that,” Nana asked me.

“Yes!” I assumed I was safe to be indignant with Nana around. Mary gave me a bemused look. And she is always tattling on me. Really.

“Well, come on in. You can help me make some care packages.”

Nana gave Mary a little wave, and Mary reminded me, “Behave yourself. No strikes.” I’d have stuck my tongue out in a show of brattitude, but like I wasn’t already a well spanked woman. I was good on the spanking front for a couple days at least, and with the no strikes rule in effect, that meant I had to be angelic. Not one of those archangels that fight demons, either, but one of those chubby ones that hold up church ceilings. Mary gets so upset when I fight demons.

“Who are we making care packages for,” I asked as I walked behind Nana to the kitchen.

“My grandkids.”

“You still haven’t seen them?”

“No, and I’m really losing my patience with it. I don’t want them to forget who their grandma is.”

“Aww. That’s impossible. Besides, you’ve been FaceTiming with them.”

“I know, but it’s not the same. Here,” she said, sliding me a basket and some ribbon. “Thanks for helping.”

“My pleasure.”

Nana was in the middle of making cookies. She turned the stand mixer on, and I guess turned back toward me because, “Daphne!”

“What’d I do!?!” Okay, so maybe I get a little paranoid when the no-strikes rule is in effect.

“What on earth...” she said as she crossed from the counter to the table. I wish I could say I didn’t know what she was looking at as she zeroed in on my thighs. They weren’t bad. Red with a couple of circles on each one from the paddle. Nana lifted the back of my shorts an inch while I stood there wondering why I was letting her do that.

“Are you okay,” she asked, clearly a little freaked out and trying to not sound like it.

“I’m okay. Hurts, but I’m okay.” I was liking the feeling, in fact. Mostly.

“She really let you have it.” Nana looked dismayed.

“What?”

“Nothing ... Well, if you were mine I wouldn’t spank you like that. Looks … harsh.”

“It’s not,” I said, wanting to reassure her but also not explain it.

“Doesn’t she know you’re just a little girl,” Nana sarcastically asked.

“Am not! I’m an adult ... who got an adult spanking ... for being naughty.” And there are no contradictions in that sentence. At all. Really. … Dammit …

“What did you do to earn such a big spanking?”

“I was a little - a smidge! - mouthy, and broke a rule about spending, and didn’t do something she told me ... and lied about it.”

“Daphne Ann! You had a busy morning.” She switched off the mixer. “Like you got the devil up in you, as my mother would’ve said. Why so much trouble staying outta trouble?”

“I dunno. I just did; wasn’t so worried about the rules. Maybe your mom is right.” Daphne: she’s got a little demon in her. I kinda liked the sound of that. In fact, it’s probably why I’m so good at fighting demons. Not the inner turmoil kind, which I suck at fighting, but, ya know, the real ones. Um, really.

“Well, I hope that spanking got through to you.”

“Me too. There are no more strikes until the day after tomorrow,” I said because sometimes I just say stuff and should really learn to just shut up.

“What does that mean?”

“That any misbehavior at all and she’ll ... ya know.”

“Put you back over her knee?”

“Nana!”

“Sorry. But really, Daffy. Maybe try extra hard to behave just for me. I want to see you able to sit comfortably at least some of the time this summer.”

“I’ll do my best,” I yawned. I worked in the yard, was very bratty, got my butt walloped, and cried a bunch. I was tired.

“Are you sleepy?”

“I had a busy morning, like you said.”

“You’re welcome to take a nap.”

“You don’t need help?”

“I can manage. You can use the guest room.”

“I can just use the couch.”

“Nonsense. I have a perfectly good bed in the guest room.”

I followed her up the stairs and realized I hadn’t ever been on the second floor of her house. There were so many pictures on the walls. I’d never met her husband, but there was forty years of him, from when they were younger than I am now to when they had kids to when they had grandkids. Nana really did lead the good life, at least going by the pictures. She opened a door to a kinda messy room.

“Sorry about the clutter,” she said, “I guess I never cleaned up from the last time the kids were over.” The clutter was toys and lots of them. “This was Ben’s room. The kids love to come up here and go through his old things.”

“So many LEGOs,” I chuckled.

“He was my builder.”

“A lot of adults are getting into LEGOs now, especially during the pandemic.”

“Really? Maybe you can build me something some time.”

“I don’t. I mean, I was never good at LEGOs.”

“When’s the last time you tried? You’re probably a lot better at it now than when you were a kid.”

“Probably.” At least I would hope so. “You don’t need to turn down the bed for me,” I said, stepping over to the bed so she’d stop fussing.

“Too late. Is it too warm up here for you?”

“A little.” She went back across the room and turned on the ceiling fan.

“Ya just gonna stand there,” she asked me as she walked back toward me. “Sit, ya big silly.” So I sat, feeling a lot sillier for sitting on command than standing. “No shoes on the bed, though.”

“I know,” I said as I took my sandals off.

“You have the most darling little brown feetsies.”

“Been outside a lot. I haven’t been this tan since I worked at summer camps. I’m usually the color of the office walls this time of year.” Nana sat down next to me.

“You guys are getting by okay, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then on the bright side, you get a summer vacation as an adult.”

“I’m trying to look on it that way,” I shrugged.

“You just gotta stay outta trouble. Maybe the two of us can find some fun things to do together while Mary is working now that we’re back to socializing with each other.”

“I’d like that.”

“We can think of some stuff later. Hug.” She opened her arms, and I gave her a hug, and then she held the hug for an extra moment. “I’m sorry you got your bottom spanked today. I think you’ll feel better after your nap.” Why on earth she says stuff like that, I don’t know. She’s supposed to be good and freaked out by our lifestyle, repelled even. I mean, seriously, what gives? Not that I dislike it, but she just has this way of making me feel … younger … in a way I don’t hate. Except I do. A lot. In case anyone asks. Really.

“I feel okay now,” I said while suppressing a yawn. “Just...”

“She wore your butt out, literally.”

“Ha. I guess so.”

“You go to sleep, and when you’re awake we can find something fun to do, or we can just talk if you need to, okay, sweetie?”

“Thanks. I don’t think I’ll be asleep long.”

“Take all the time you need. If you’re lucky, there might even be a cookie and a glass of milk waiting for you when you wake up.”

Fast forward three hours, and I woke up to the sensation of someone stroking my hair. Took me a moment to remember where I was, and it was totally inappropriate for Nana to be stroking my hair while I was sleeping. I was just about to scoot away from her when I heard Nana whispering, “She looked a little sleepy, so I put her down.” That was coming from the door.

“She must’ve really needed it. Thanks for letting her come over.” Mary – it was Mary sitting next to me on the bed. And just because Nana suggested the nap, walked me upstairs, turned down the covers, flipped on the fan, gave me a hug, and turned out the light does not mean she ‘put me down’ for a nap. That’s just – she didn’t. Really! Dammit…

“My pleasure. Though there is something I want to talk about.”

“Of course.” Mary stopped stroking my hair. I felt her pivot and decided to play possum to see what I could learn. I know for a fact they talk about me sometimes because of my awesome investigative skills like asking Mary if they did and her saying yes, and I don’t think I ever get the full story on what they talk about specifically.

“I got a look at the backs of her legs. I know I said I’d stay out it, but you are spanking her too hard, Mary. That’s practically a beating you gave her.”

Okay, for the record I have not only taken but asked for way worse than what Mary gave me. In fact, she never punishes me as hard as some of the impact play I’ve sometimes asked for while playing. I am not a little girl or a delicate flower, and I can take anything Mary would ever dish out. All that being said, if you’re not into impact play or BDSM or adult spanking, yeah, it looks like a beating sometimes. Not always, but sometimes, and I did, sorta, earn a butt whooping with my (minor) sass, if one were judgmental and inclined to see things that way (also known as the correct way).

Mary didn’t respond right away. “I appreciate how much you care about her, and us, but I can assure you I’m never more strict with Daphne than she wants me to be or needs me to be. It is a punishment, and it’s supposed to hurt, but we know each other’s limits.”

“She has bruises.”

“She likes bruises,” Mary said and then probably regretted it because I regretted it and we’re simpatico like that. “I mean, it’s just part of it. We had many talks early on about limits, and I never do anything she’s not okay with. It’s just ... I promise you, from the bottom of my heart, I’d never do anything to hurt Daphne. She just got herself in quite the heap of trouble this morning and got her tail spanked for it. She didn’t like it while it was happening one bit, but that’s what makes it a punishment, and she wants someone to punish her when she needs it. Just like a teen won’t admit they want boundaries, but they do.”

I could tell Mary was trying to lighten the mood, and if she’s like me she also wanted to not explain every little facet of BDSM to our neighbor and reveal what floats our boats in the process. Maybe we should just give Nana a book if she’s so curious or concerned. “And she’s got a little aftercare coming at bedtime. She’ll be a happy little camper after I rub some cream on her bum bum.”

Okay, so Mary really does talk like that when I’m not around, or awake, which I guess makes it less embarrassing. Or more. I don’t know. She is so a big, and I need to call her on it again because she’s been happy to let me think all of the ageplay stuff was all in response to me becoming more of an ageplayer, not her. She is so caught.

“Okay,” my Nana said. “I’ll trust you on it. But I’m still her Nana; it’s my job to stick up for her.”

“I know. We appreciate it.”

“Can she have a cookie even though she’s in trouble?”

“She’s not in trouble. She misbehaved, got her bare bottom spanked for it, and now it’s done.”

And, I would add, I am perfectly capable of deciding when I can have cookies anytime I want except when Mary explicitly says things like ‘no, you can’t have a cookie.’ Shy of that (incredibly unfair bullcrap) I will eat cookies when I choose, thank you very much, because I make my own decisions (when Mary lets me) just like every other adult (except the ones Mary isn’t in charge of). Really!

“Daffy...” My love was calling my name. “Daffy...” I had to pretend to just be coming to.

“Five more minutes,” I mumbled because I know how to make her smile.

“Nice try,” she said, not believing it. “You’ve been asleep all afternoon.”

“I was tired,” I said, rolling over and opening my eyes to see Mary right next to me and Nana leaning on the doorframe

“I know. But nap time is over.”

O no. I recognized the look on her face: her I’m-gonna-make-you-squirm-face. O please not in front of Nana. Please please pleeeeaaassse. Mary always looks so pleased with herself before she says something just to embarrass me; I just gotta sit there and wait for it. Here it comes. “Did you stay dry during your nap?”

“Marrrrryyyyy! I don’t. Nana, I don’t, really! She’s just saying that to be mean to me!”

“I know she’s just teasing you. But it wouldn’t be the first time someone pottied in that bed. That’s why I keep that waterproof mattress cover on it, for when the kids are staying over.”

“Anyway,” Mary said putting her hand on my forehead, “let’s get you downstairs and get some water into you. You’re overheated.” I shouldn’t have used the comforter; I was way too hot and actually felt a little crummy.

“I saved you a cookie,” Nana said. “And some cold milk.”

“Did the window guy come,” I asked as I yanked the covers off myself and felt almost instantly so much better.

“Yep. And when he asked me how it happened, I told him not to worry because the naughty little girl who did it already got her bare bottom spanked for it.” See!?! She tattles on me even to strangers.

“Marrry, why you gotta...”

“And you know what he said,” she said right over my objection. “He said he hears that a lot.” So friggin pleased with herself. I like the way she seems so happy when she says stuff like that, even if it is embarrassing. Smiling and looking so happy and looking back at me like she loves me bunches, which she does. I like it when she’s happy.

“You are so mean sometimes,” I said to her. “And I’m not a little girl.” Really! No one will listen!