Mary and Daphne Scene #213 (Patreon)

“Mary,” I said to Mary cuz that’s who I was talking to. Not just any Mary either but my Mary. Usually that’s just a thing I say cuz it’s so fun to be reminded that I’ve got the one and only, but there are Mary’s all over the place in Italy (except they call them Maria hahaha jk).

So anyhoo, I said, “Ya know, Mary, I was thinking that after lunch when we get back to the hotel I could have a, um, treat.” And then I wagged my eyebrows up and down all suggestively but it never works well. Is having uncoordinated eyebrows a thing? But Mary has known me long enough to know what it means when I eyebrows are having a fight with my forehead.

“O yeah,” she said all suggestively too. This is our marriage: suggestin’ stuff suggestively. “Only good girls who’ve been extra well behaved get treats.”

Well, let’s just deconstruct the nonsense behind that implication. “Ahem,” I cleared my throat.

“You are a good girl.”

“Heccin right.” I’m a good girl even when I’m being bad to the bone (b-b-b-b-bad (buhdadabuhda) bad to the bone). I’m probably the bestest of the best girls, actually, but I don’t like to bring it up in case it makes others feel bad about all the ways they’re not as a good a girl as I am. Isn’t that considerate of me? I think so too.

“So what have you done to be extra well behaved,” Mary asked me like she didn’t know but she friggin did. This woman, I swear.

“You know,” I told her and made very cute grumpy eyes. Making grumpy eyes when you’re not grumpy isn’t a bratty thing to do, and even if it were, it wouldn’t undo the many ways in which I was extra well behaved all morning and would have no impact at all on my status as the bestest of the best good girls. And acts of brattitude don’t a brat make. Really.

“But I may have missed some things. I was so focused on the art,” she said in her we-both-know-and-I’m-just-playing-with-you tone. And in case there was any mistaking it, she was playing footsy with me under the table. Makes me wish I had a foot fetish just for fun and stuff.

“Well, Mary,” I replied with a little bit of attitude breaking though in my otherwise dulcet tone, “I was also looking at the art.”

“The whole time?”

“The whole time.”

“You weren’t doing anything else? Cuz looking at the art is what you’re supposed to do in a museum. If you were extra well behaved, you must’ve done something else too.”

“I bet you were the kid who wouldn’t stop tapping on the glass at the zoo,” I told her. I can see her now, just tap-tap-tapping away until she got the reaction she wanted from the animals no matter how many times she was told to stop. Persistent little button pusher all grown up into a persistent big button pusher.

“Yeah, and?” See, I communicate just fine. It’s Mary who misses my brilliant points.

“Never mind.” Hmmph.

“So you were being a extra good.”

“I stayed by your side like you told me to.”

“Mhmm.”

“And I held your hand when you told me to.” Not gonna lie (cuz I would never in general) – holding Mary’s hand is never an imposition. I like it and stuff, like, a lot and things.

“What else?”

“You know what else.”

“I’m pretty sure I don’t,” Mary fibbed. She’s a fibber; glad I’ve never done a fib. Really. “If you don’t tell me, how will I know if you were extra well behaved or merely well behaved?”

Merely?!? There’s nothing mere about being well behaved! It’s hard work. I’m adventurous! I’m feisty! I’m a handful! I’m the life of the party and a goddamned delight! Keeping myself in check is a full time job. That’s why I asked Mary o so many years ago to help keep me in line cuz I’ll cross all the lines. Really. I will! … And stuff. Like the line about ordering in more than twice a week? I crossed that all the time before Mary. And the line about getting out of bed at a reasonable time? Crossed! See? Ya see? Left to my own devices, I’ll go so nuts you won’t see me for days cuz I’ll be at home eating restaurant cake and sleeping nine hours a day. Friggin off my rocker! Unconstrained by society’s rules! A menace! A bad example for our young people! Um, really.

Back to the point though. “You’re really gonna make me say it,” I asked. Just asked, didn’t plead. I’m not a pleader except for when I’m pleading, and I wasn’t … yet.

“If you wanna treat.”

“Maybe I’ll just treat myself.” Ha! And I could do it while she watches … And I could take my time … And maybe she wouldn’t be able to take it and would lose her self control and give me a treat or two of her own.

“Nope,” Mary said all breezily like … Urgh!

“Fine. I … I didn’t ask to go to the lady’s room.”

Mary’s I’m-pretending-to-be-confused face. “You had to go to the potty? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you explicitly told me not to on pain of embarrassing the heck outta me.” True story. Too many strangers in the museum made going to the lady’s room too risky; strangers could steal me. That was her flimsy pretext. I don’t even know why she bothers with pretexts. O wait – yes I do! If she just told me no, that would be dominance. By giving me a fake reason, she gets to imply I’m too little, which ticks me off, which she thinks is cute and hot. And it is, but it still ticks me off because I’m not a little girl! I shouldn’t have to … Deep breath.

“And you’ve been holding it this entire time,” she asked in her I’m-faux-shocked-and-horrified tone.

She is such a so-and-so. “…No.”

“But you said you needed the potty. If you needed the potty then and don’t need the potty now … Is there something you wanna tell me?”

“No.”

“Did you use your diaper?”

To which I answered with my I’m-cheesed-off-and-not-answering-that-question look.

“Daffodil, while we were looking at Michelangelo’s David, were you wetting your diaper? Is that why when I started to walk around the statue, you tugged my hand and we stood there for another half a minute? Cuz you were getting all your peepee out into your Huggies?”

“I would just like to point out that in this very moment I’m being extra well behaved again.”

“Are you wetting again? Do you need changed before you have a leaky diaper?”

Deep breath. “I’m not throwing spaghetti at you. For that I deserve a treat.”

Btw, Mary was so hot and bothered her game of footsie was more like a game of can-I-grope-Daphne’s-leg-with-my-foot. She’s so … pleasant in all the ways. Good thing I brought her with me to Europe.

So anyhoo, back at the hotel, in one of those delightfully solid old world buildings that offers guests auditory privacy drywall can never even approach, Mary closed the door behind us and said to me, “So you wanna treat?” And I recognized the delightfully predatory look she gives me when she’s all charged up. She’s a lioness waiting to pounce, and I’m a spritely savanna mouse who with a swish of her tail will trigger Mary’s chase instinct. That’s how my non-iron-can-be-washed-in-the-sink-perfect for-traveling pants wound up across the room before my shoes were even off.

“Ya know,” Mary said while, um, what’s the word? Groping? Yeah, groping the diaper she made me wear. Hard groping. “We can buy these diapers back home. Do you like them?”

“I’ve never liked any of them. Why do you – heh! – like them s-so much?”

“Because they’re not very thick, so I like how squishy your butt is in it. You got it so wet, and it’s so snug on you, and I like the way it makes your butt feels.”

Took almost four years, but I think Mary just admitted she has a diaper fetish. Her ageplay fetish was clearly something she was born with, but pretty sure the diaper fetish was acquired through sheer exposure. Alas, I’ve not. But fortunately, I have a making-Mary-happy-fetish, and a humiliation fetish, and an ageplay fetish, and a doing-what-Mary-tells-me fetish, and even if I had no fetishes at all, I’d still enjoy Mary giving me an HJ with one hand while taking my top and bra off with the other. She’s quite dexterous, a wonderful trait in us lesbians. How she managed to undress herself at the same time … I think she’s a wizard too?

“You shoulda told me you were having an accident in front of David. Mommy can’t help you if you don’t tell me.” I didn’t respond because I was busy breathing hard. “Right in front of everybody too.” She did this sexy chuckle thing that is just, oof, so good to hear. “You’re probably in a dozen people’s vacation photos wetting your huggies … Did you just cum in your soggy pampers?”

“(Squeaky orgasm noises).”

“Because you’re in all those pictures making peepee in your pampers?”

“(Squeaky come-down noises).” What? It’s not like I lost the power of speech cuz my humiliation fetish wouldn’t let me stop thinking about all the people who’d be showing their trip pics to their family and friends and all of social media. Unsurpassed sculptural masterpiece in the center, me in the foreground holding tight to Mary’s hand covertly peeing myself … (Shuddering noises).

“I think my good girl,” Mary said to me – ya hear that? I’m her good girl! Me! – “deserves a good girl spanking.”

The first time we took a took an airplane ride together, we found one of those tags in her bag informing us it had been opened and searched, and, well, we did some hard core packing, if ya get my drift. And me being me and Mary being Mary and, really, we being us, really liked the idea of some TSA agent getting such a thorough look at our toys. Never have we ever since worried about what we packed. And since they sell clothes in Europe pretty much in all the places a pair of travelers would go, and toys being much harder to find and the, uh, fit and personal tastes being harder to match, we traveled prepared any kind of weather … by which I mean sex. Ha!

“Mama has to put you over her knee and spank your bare little girl bottom now,” Mary said to me after certain things had been situated in certain places and were vibrating at certain and multiple frequencies. “But I’m going to leave your soggy diaper under you in case you lose control of yourself during your spanking.”

I’m so good at so many things. All the things, when you think about it. Really. But Mary being Mary, by which I mean the gay embodiment of celestial perfection I long ago decided to devote my life to, it’s amazing how she can talk about one thing while having one hand do something totally different and the other hand do a secret third thing that’s just … sigh …

“It’s okay to have accidents, but if you know then you should tell me. What if you leaked at the museum? Everyone would be staring at the little girl making a puddle …. You’re such a good girl, Momma has to spank your bottom … Cum for me. Show me what a good girl you can be … Look at this diaper … Are you learning your lesson? … Must’ve been very scary having an accident in front of all those people. How’d you get to be so brave? … Until your bottom is bright red … You like that? You like when I press there? Heh, such a good girl.”

Honestly, I don’t know if she was talking to me or herself. I don’t need the words; I had all the stimulation I needed. And Mary was sitting on … she was sitting on what she was sitting on and it was going bzzzzzzzzzz, is all you need to know. And then I was well spanked enough and she wasn’t sitting at all but was lying face down while I … Things happened. Fun things. All the fun ever, actually, cuz we’re just that awesome a couple. And when it was over, we fell asleep very sweaty and holding each other cuz we’re in love like that.

And for once I woke up first and Mary got to wake up to me stroking her hair for a change. “Hey,” I greeted her.

“Hey.” She stretched and squirmed and yawned and I totally get why she says it’s so cute when I wake up all post-coitally and stuff and things. “We need to get going or we’ll miss our reservation for the Medici Chapel.”

“Heeheehee! We missed it already.”

“We slept right though it?”

“Yeah. Guess we needed it.”

“You wore me out,” she said and gave me one of those kisses that made me wonder if we were gonna start Round 2. I’m only one Daphne! And how about buying me dinner first?

“We need new sheets,” I observed.

“Did you wet the bed?”

“We got the bed wet, is I think the phrase you’re looking for.” If either of us needed a diaper under her for certain activities … All those tourists out there trying to have an Instagram-worthy vacation, what fools they are. They could be having an OnlyFans-worthy vacation …