Mary and Daphne #59 (Patreon)

I was officially miffed. I’m not a damn mind reader, and Mary gets so caught up in enjoying her little surprises and teasing and trying to find the newest and bluest ways to make me go Marrrrryyy that she sometimes doesn’t notice when I’m trying to tell her something.

This whole house of kinky cards rests on the two of us communicating and not all of it can be super–rosa. Most of it is sub–rosa, and a lot of it comes out as “Please don’t stop” heading but some out as, “Please. Don’t. Stop.” I know it’s always easy to tell, and that’s why you have to mostly assume latter if you’re sure not. It’s hard living this lifestyle; if it wasn’t, every kinky person would do it.

I really don’t like being mad at Mary, and I try not to be, but it feels like every time I try to communicate subtly, I get out maneuvered like it was all part of the game and not like I was actually trying to say something, and every time lately that I say something directly, Mary has been either having or pretending to have a really hard time distinguishing between me meaning what I’m saying or me just playing the game.

“How about I wash and you dry,” Mary asked me when we finished dinner.

“Later. I wanna talk first.”

“Um, okay.”

“No,” I said and put my hand on hers as she was about to put her plate on the counter, “I need you to pay attention.” She settled back on her chair.

“Sorry. I’m listening.”

“How come when I gave you the pullup you had to make a thing about it? I was trying to compromise.”

“Compromise on what?”

“You were gonna make me wear another diaper and I didn’t want to.”

“I don’t know that I was going to do that. You came to me for a change.”

“And ever since you started insisting I don’t take those things off myself you just put me in another one half the time. I’m not a little.”

“I know you’re not.”

“But you keep … You ordered my breakfast for me and made me wear one out after I said I didn’t want to.”

“You say that about just about everything.” Part of the game, and she needs to play it better.

“Yeah, that’s a signal. I shouldn’t have to yellow and red everything all the time. You’re not reading my signals lately.” She sat up a little straighter.

“I’m sorry. I thought I was.”

“You just keep saying, ‘Looks like you don’t object so much down here.’ That’s not my only signal, ya know. I don’t wanna be a 24/7 diaper person, and it’s like that’s where this is all heading. I was hoping you’d figure that out before I have to start red lighting stuff.”

“Is that what this is? Are you red lighting?”

“This … is a yellow … I … like being your little girl, but I don’t wanna be alittle girl.”

“So you’ve said before, and I don’t think you’re turning into a little girl.”

“But you keep making it like you want me to be! Like that stupid quote unquote deal of yours today. I was trying to compromise and suddenly you’re just shutting down … They’re not even a punishment anymore.”

“Do you miss that? Do you want them to be a punishment again?”

“If they’re not, then what are they?”

“I hadn’t really thought about that.”

“Yeah! Because you’re not the one peeing on yourself!”

“Please don’t raise your voice.”

“Sorry.”

“So what are you asking for?”

“For a promise that this isn’t just going to turn into me being some stay–at–home diaper wearing sub.”

“I promise it won’t.”

“And for you to try harder with reading my signals.”

“That’s fair. I guess maybe I’ve been pushing things a bit because there’s nothing else to do in Month 10 except poke your little buttons.”

“You’re gonna wear ‘em out … And if I wanna eat waffles and peanut butter until I’m a fat old lady I’m gonna.”

“I’m not so sure about that.” Well, that’s fair because I don’t wanna be.

“Just don’t order for me again. I’m not a little girl, and I don’t like you just doing that stuff.”

“I promise I won’t again without asking. I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you … We can wash the dishes now.”

“One thing first.” She slid her chair out and pointed at her lap.

“What’d I do?”

“Just c’mere, you silly goose!” She reached over and took me by my wrist and pulled me into her lap. “I’m proud of you,” she told me. Oooooo, dose da words that make me into a puddle.

“For what?”

“For telling me about your feelings without getting yourself so worked up I have to give you a spanking first.”

“O … I told you some of those spankings got through to me.”

“Were you upset this afternoon?”

“Kinda.”

“I’m sorry, Daffy. You know I’d be perfect for you if I could be, right?”

I nodded and tried very hard not to sniffle. She’s proud of me and she tries to be perfect for me? I mean, that is sooooo like Mary. Not that I idolize her. Just that she’s, well, she’s my Mary.

“When we’re done with the dishes, can we snuggle on the couch,” I asked.

“If you’re gonna make me.” She set me on my feet and gave my butt a love tap.

“Can I be the big spoon?”

“But you’re so little!”

“If you don’t let me, I’m just gonna wait until you’re asleep and do it.”

“Such a naughty little girl!”

“I’m not a little girl! Really.”

“Oops! My mistake.”

“Darn tootin.’”