<div class="floatleft">(https://list.lisimg.com/image/9863934/300full.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Celeste Sinclair<br/><strong>Date/Time:</strong>June 3, morning<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Grocery store<br/><strong>Mood:</strong>Nervous<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Mommy<br/><hr/><hr/><br/>As soon as she felt the cart bump into Erin's hip, Celeste knew she'd crossed a line. She'd crossed the point of no return. No turning back now from this little quest of hers that she'd first set out on when she slipped that second box of muffins into the cart. It wasn't that she was deliberately trying to get herself into trouble. Celeste didn't think so, anyway. If she'd want that, she could have added a third box of muffins to their cart instead of returning the second one to the shelf like Erin asked. That, she knew, would meant big trouble. She didn't want that, though. Not really. Not totally.<br/><br/>There was a battle raging inside of her, and internal tug-of-war. An angel on one shoulder urging her to do the right thing, be a good girl. A demon on the left, seducing her with its naughty schemes. One side of her wanted trouble, the other to avoid it. Spanking excited her, but it made her nervous too. It was the thrill that any submissive young woman would have for her lover's dominance; it was the healthy sort of caution that every little girl should have of her Mommy's firm hand. She took the second box of muffins to push Mommy's patience, then put them back on the shelf when she remembered that pushing Mommy's patience was never a good idea.<br/><br/>Now, though, that naughty side of her had taken things a step too far. And Celeste knew it.<br/><br/>Clamping her jaw firmly shut, she stared into Mommy's eyes, and she listened without ever daring to interrupt. She wasn't even tempted. Not this time. For the moment, at least, the little demon on her left shoulder seemed to have vanished. That naughty girl inside went silent. The good girl took over, staring into Mommy's eyes. Shifting nervously under that firm, maternal gaze. She twisted, squirmed, tugged on the hem of her shirt. But she didn't move, didn't protest, didn't dare look away. Mommy held her attention, and Celeste didn't speak until she was sure it was her turn.<br/><br/>Even then, all she managed was a whimpered, "I'm sorry."<br/><br/>Her big blues eyes turned their attention to the cart next. She suspected she knew what Mommy was getting at. In fact, she was quite certain of it. She looked at the three boxes of cereal. Then back at Mommy. Back at the cereal and its sweet, sugary goodness.<br/><br/>"I'll put one back. " She said, her voice cautiously defiant. She picked up one box, lifted it out of the cart. Her eyes peered up into Mommy's, searching for any sign of trouble.