Mary and Daphne #134 (Patreon)

There’s a penis on our floor. Just … yep. So I guess I should explain how that happened.

“Daffy,” Mary called to me as she emerged from our kitchen.

“What’s up,” I said as I didn’t look up from my video game. I was winning! Mostly. Doesn’t happen often so I wasn’t about to pause.

“That was Sandy. She had a favor to ask.”

“What? D’oh!” Okay. Pause.

“She has a new play partner and wanted to know if she could do a scene with him at our house.”

There were several interesting things about that sentence. The “him” part definitely caught my ear. I know Sandy is bi, and I’ve seen her play with men. I have no problem with that, but she’s never done it at our house, which would be the second interesting thing.

“What’s so special about our house?”

“She wants us to be part of it, sort of.”

So glad I paused. I’ve scened with a penis owner exactly once. I’ve scened with owners of girldicks (or as I like to call them, outties) a few times.

“Is he a cis het guy?”

“Yeah.”

“O.” I didn’t mind that one way or the other, I think. On the other hand, if I wanted to play with men, I would. I don’t; nothing against men, but as a lesbian I would feel remiss if I didn’t point out that they’re not women. Women are women. Trans women are women. Non-binary femmes can have huge wieners, and all that matters to me is how they identify. Gay men? Not to stereotype, but so much fun (at least the people I’ve known; people who are not fun don’t need to be a part of my social circle). Cisgender heterosexual men? Like, yeah, I’ve only had a few kink experiences, but not something I seek out.

I once asked to be spanked by a man at a play party, but only because he was the size of our refrigerator and I wanted to know what it was like to be completely overpowered by someone intent on disciplining me. Wasn’t bad, but was kinda scary, even with Mary right there pretending to be my aunt while he played the disappointed uncle.

I’ve been part of scenes with subs who were cis het men, but those scenes didn’t involve much interaction between us. Like that one school scene Mary and me sorta kinda definitely commandeered, with the men playing the role of naughty classmates. All we did was stare at the wall together in timeout. I didn’t even watch when the men who were tops spanked my ‘classmates’ because I was in timeout and I’m a good girl who follows the timeout rules and kept my eyes on the wall. Really.

And of course, Tommy. I don’t scene with Tommy. That’s lifestyle stuff even if he essentially turns it into a scene. But he’s not being a cis het man in those scenes. He’s being the world’s annoying fake pre-adolescent.

“Is he fully vaccinated,” I asked despite knowing Mary definitely asked or else wouldn’t even be considering it, and that Sandy almost certainly volunteered the information or wouldn’t be asking.

“Yes.”

“What does she want us to do?”

“Nothing. Just have a normal conversation with her while he plays on the floor.”

“… Plays with what exactly?” We have no need of male masturbation on our floor. Penis in his pants? Fine.

“Toys.”

Ya know, sometimes Mary isn’t the best at explaining things. Of the two of us, I go on nonsense safari way more, but Mary isn’t immune from explaining herself a piece at a time. “You’re not explaining this very well.”

“He’s an adult baby.”

And my spidey sense is tingling.“O.”

I’ve never actually been around an adult baby (that I know of). There are none at the play parties or munches we go to. There are some ageplayers, Jane and Tommy being two of them, and definitely some bratty subs, but no adult babies or, as far as I know, diaper lovers … except maybe Mary in the topping role. And I guess Sandy in the same role.

“Are you okay with it,” Mary asked me.

“Okay with what? I still don’t get it.”

“He wants to feel baby, and he says that nothing feels so baby like playing on the floor while the adults talk about adult stuff.”

“What kind of adult stuff? Like adult adult stuff?”

“No, just a regular visit while he plays with his toys.”

“And that feels like being a baby?”

“They call it being baby, as in ‘I’m so baby.’”

Well thank you for the lingo lesson but, “Who calls it that?”

“Gen Z ageplayers, I guess. I see it on Twitter, too.”

“What are you doing on ABDL Twitter,” I asked maybe kinda somewhat for sure accusingly.

“It’s just kinky Twitter. I see some ageplay and ABDL stuff on it.”

I didn’t fully believe that. Here I’ve been wondering where she’s picked up some of her ideas; maybe I was giving Sandy too much credit (blame). “So he just wants to play on our floor while we talk,” I asked for a final clarification. Clarification is super important in kink.

“Yeah. I’m fine with it,” she shrugged.

“And this isn’t an elaborate trick to get me to do adult baby stuff?”

“Course not,” she said with a dismissive eye roll like that isn’t exactly something she would do. I’m on to her. I know exactly what she’s doing at all times (30% of the time max).

“I guess I’m fine with that … So are we supposed to talk to him or about him, or literally just pretend he’s not there?” Kinky people can be awfully specific about their scenes, which is not a critique. They build up this perfect scenario in their head and wait maybe a lifetime to play it out, assuming they actually get to. Lord knows I’ve done it (and She knows why too).

“Imagine a friend came over for a Sunday visit and brought their little one. We can talk to him and about him, but he’s not supposed to the center of attention. That’s the baby part. We’re just supposed to pretend it’s normal to have an oversized toddler playing on the floor.”

“I guess that’s okay. Yeah, sure.”

“She says we can improvise, if we want to be a little more active in the scene.”

And there’s the trap. “Like what,” I deadpanned.

“I know a certain someone who likes the idea of getting spanked while we have non-kink company. As long as we’re pretending it’s a normal visit …” She fluttered her eyelashes at me in the classic hint-hint gesture.

“I don’t want to take away from his scene.” I mean, yeah, I like that scenario she brought up, but this was his scene. I don’t seek out cis het men, but I get what it’s like to want to live out a fantasy (as you may have guessed from this lifestyle of ours I’ve been chronicling for over two years now), so I was content to let the focus stay on his scenario.

“Tomorrow,” Mary asked.

“Works for me.”