Synopsis; Mummy milks the truth out of Baby Jennie concerning her dress-up activities and her love of female apparel. Later that day Baby Jennie realises mean old David from next door is babysitting them for the afternoon.

Chapter 16. Confession Time

When I awoke the next morning, my lovely warm nappy was absolutely saturated as usual. Something felt different when I pushed my dolly Justine and my pink teddy aside. I rolled onto my tummy. My thighs were forced even wider apart than normal, and there was a puffy wet wad bunched around my straining sodden erection. Angie's disposable diaper - which Mummy had used as an extra soaker pad between the two cloth layers - had absorbed so much urine during the night, it had swollen to four times its normal thickness. I reached down and probed the warm wet bulk trapped inside my onesie and crackling baby panties. The feeling was completely disconnected from the tickling sensations coming from my thickening clittie. Disappointed, I took my hand away and reached for the pink baby bottle leaning against the crib bars. It was only filled with water, but I was thirsty. I spat out the dummy that must have remained in my mouth all night while I slept. I greedily shoved the clear silicon teat between my pink-stained lips, and gratefully sucked down a few mouthfuls of tepid water.

By turning my head to the side and propping the end of my bottle on my fluffy teddy's belly, I managed to keep sucking as I lay on my tummy. I began to experimentally rock on my deliciously warm wet swaddling. I glanced through the pink-painted wooden bars at my sleeping sister, jealous that she was allowed to sleep in a big-girl's bed, while I had to spend the night locked in my stupid crib like a big baby.

Aunty Cath had stayed until after we'd been put down for the night, and it was she who had placed the full bottle of water against the crib bars after locking me in for the night. She cooed down at me; "Just in case you get thirsty during the night, Baby Jennie. After all, baby can't climb out of her cot to get a drink, can she?"

The high barred sides actually had two top rails separated by less than an inch - with barely enough room to squeeze my fingers between, let alone find a foothold. The ‘bottom’ top rail was the normal pink painted wood, but the upper top rail had a white tubular shell of 'teething' plastic over another hollow steel tube, giving me no purchase to climb out of my humiliating baby prison. Aunty Cath rolled the loose teething rail with her fingertips until in spun around, grinning down at me in malicious amusement. I was trapped like a rat in a cage - and my smirking Aunt knew it.

I had hopes that Aunty Cath's visit yesterday afternoon would be a brief one, as I wanted some time alone with my Mummy. I was trying to think of some roundabout way of asking my mother how much she knew about cousin Bonnie catching me wearing her cheerleader panties - and if that was all she knew. But my bossy brunette Aunty insisted on helping Mummy feed and bathe the babies before bedtime, reminding her younger sister; "I know what it's like to have two in nappies at the same time, remember? Stop fussing! After we put the babies down for the night, Isy, we can have a little chat about your new baby girl. And I need to collect the rest of Baby Jennie's bibs, later - and my camcorder, too. Don't let me forget them, will you?" That seemed to be the end of the matter as far as our Aunty was concerned. I saw Mummy grimace and shrug in resignation before nodding passively in acceptance.

Aunty Cath washed me all over in the hot bath that evening, taking special care with my sensitive rosebud and tiny clittie. After I had to stand so she could wash my front bits, Aunty made me kneel in the bath so she could scrub my bot-bot clean, too. Thankfully I remained totally flaccid during her thorough intimate scrubbing, no matter how often she handled me down there. I was frightened of my strict domineering Aunty and her brusque, uncaring manner. She roughly washed my hair with 'No More Tears' baby shampoo, while Mummy took care of Angie's platinum curls.

"Huh! 'No More Tears,' eh?" Aunty scoffed, before commenting testily; "I wish that was true of some little girls!" I winced, whimpering aloud from a combination of pain and shame as she lathered my curly locks with unnecessary vigour. "Your Baby Jennie is the biggest sissy cry-baby I've ever met, Isabell!" I pouted sulkily when Mummy made no move to defend me, and she ignored my protruding bottom lip to coo and cluck over my giggling, suds-covered sister. While Mummy diapered me for the night, I anxiously wondered what they needed to talk about without Angie and me present. That didn't prevent me from falling into an exhausted sleep in my cot as soon as Aunty Cath turned out the Nursery light.

When I heard Mummy's footsteps softly approaching the Nursery from the landing the following morning, I rolled onto my side facing the door. I clutched my bottle with both hands, sucking noisily on the dripping teat and sleepily batting my long black lashes. I was trying to look like a perfect picture of infantile innocence when Mummy padded in, bright-eyed and barefoot. Mummy smiled enigmatically at me as she threw back the curtains to let in the glorious morning sunshine. When she woke Angie, my sister still sounded irritable and out-of-sorts. Our mother hadn't dressed for the day yet, and she was wearing a short, pink satin bathrobe belted loosely around her slender waist.

When she moved about carrying my sister, I noticed Mummy wasn't wearing a nightie under the shiny pink robe as she usually did in the morning. Her meaty breasts were hanging lower without the normal support of her hefty underwire bra. The sensuous satin material brushing across her thimble-sized nipples made them stand proudly erect like two little soldiers. Mummy’s shiny blonde hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders, and she flicked one errant strand out of the way with a well-practised toss of her head that made her huge bosom wobble distractingly.

Mummy removed Angie's drenched cloth night nappy on the change table first, crooning softly to her to lift her spirits. My sister cheered up slightly when our mother lovingly tickled her bare tummy. Mummy blew noisy raspberries on Angie’s clean belly till she couldn’t help giggling. After dusting her front and back bottoms with handfuls of sweetly-scented baby powder, Mummy taped my sister into her usual puffy pink disposable diaper. With soft encouraging words, she dressed Angie in a cute red cotton frock covered with small white polka-dots, with an open round neck and no sleeves. There were three short tiers to the wide-flared skirt, and each layer ended with a thick ruffle of the same red material, but without the polka-dots. When Mummy slipped the frock over my sister's head and compliantly raised arms, the brief hemline barely reached halfway down Angie's thighs.

Angie was given some bright-red plastic panties to pull over her pink disposable all by herself, and then Mummy slipped some strappy red sandals on her bare feet and buckled them in place. "There you go, darling," she cooed tenderly, as she set Angie on her tiny shod feet. Mummy brushed out my smiling sister's platinum locks and then gave her two pretty pigtails either side of her head. She first bound them with hair elastics, followed by some shiny red ribbon tied in pretty dangly bows.

Mummy handed Angie her dolly Sophie and suggested, "Why don't you take your baby downstairs and wait there for Mummy, darling, while I change Baby Jennie's wet nappy?" She plucked the dripping nipple from my lips and set my almost-empty bottle aside on the chest of drawers.
"Okay Mummy," Angie readily agreed, as Mummy stood on the release lever to unlock my crib. "It smells like a poopy one, anyway," my sister commented disdainfully before marching out, her pert little nose tilted high in the air and a smug smile on her cupid's bow lips.

Mummy checked the fitted pink pussycat sheet underneath me before she lifted me out of my cramped cot. Even though my night nappy felt totally saturated, thankfully there were no smelly wet spots on the sheets this morning. When Mummy removed the pins and lowered the soggy front of my diaper on the change table, I was surprised to find my clever sister had been correct. I did have a poopy nappy, and I hadn't even noticed I was dirty!

Mummy sighed heavily as she collected the small firm turd inside the nappy liners, and then she wrapped the sticky parcel in the soggy disposable diaper she removed from between the drenched cloth layers. She taped closed the folded wet pink diaper and tied it in an orange plastic nappy sack, then dumped the heavy wad in the lined white bin beside the table. It landed on the bottom with a solid wet ‘thud!’ Mummy washed her hands in the en-suite bathroom before returning to where I passively lay on the pink padded change table. She took a handful of moist baby wipes from the white plastic tub and began scrubbing my tummy and around my ball sack.

Fortunately, my excitable little clittie remained relatively inert when Mummy grabbed hold of me down there and scrubbed the sticky powder remnants from my sensitive places. It actually hurt a bit, and I wriggled in discomfort and grumbled wordlessly at her rough handling. She pressed the teat of my dum-dums between my pouting pink lips to silence my complaints. "Suck this and shush, baby girl," she cooed reassuringly, holding her fingers over the pink plastic guard until she was sure I was obediently sucking. "Shhh. Suck your dummy. That's better, baby. We need to get all the nasty old powder off. Mummy has to make sure you're lovely and clean down here. That's better. You just suck your dum-dums, honey, like a good little baby girl." When she tilted me right back onto my shoulders to scrub my botty cheeks clean, she commented airily; "That naughty little bottom is turning all the colours of the rainbow, little girl! Does it still hurt?"

I sucked harder on my mouth-filling baby soother and nodded my head in misery. She simply pursed her lips and nodded gravely in what I suspected was approval. Mummy was extremely thorough when she wiped my delicate rosebud clean, poking the tip of her moist, wipe-covered finger right inside my wrinkled poo-poo hole. I wriggled about and moaned softly around my dum-dums at the strangely arousing sensations. She slid her thick sheathed digit most of the way in and out several thrilling times, and then repeated her intrusive actions with two more clean baby wipes, until she was sure I was absolutely pristine back there. "Oh Mummy! Mumma!" I involuntarily gasped, and then blushed furiously at my helpless arousal. No matter how hard I tried to control it, my excitable little clittie grew harder whenever Mummy cleaned inside my delicate boy-pussy.

Mummy stared fixedly at my thickening pee-pee while she slowly lowered my ankles, and I cowered at the expression in her calculating olive-green eyes. I timidly watched as she unfolded one of Angie's pink disposables and straightened it out, before slipping the crackling puffy diaper between the two clean white cloth nappies already laid out between my spread legs. "Lift that botty for Mummy, baby girl," Mummy softly ordered, her eyes never leaving mine, and she smiled tightly when I instantly obeyed.

When she had the fluffy nappies correctly positioned under my bum, she powdered me heavily front and back, gently caressing the talc over my bruised botty cheeks, and then briskly rubbing her powdery white hand over my tiny sack and thickening tool. I was surprised when she abandoned me on the table before pinning my nappies in place, as usual. I fearfully hoped she wasn't heading for the kitchen to find an icy-cold spoon. Instead she stepped into the Nursery walk-in wardrobe and returned holding a cute red sleeveless sun dress on a hangar. It was identical to Angie's pretty polka-dot frock, except larger, although I felt certain it looked way too short to cover my humiliating infantile underwear.

"Look, baby! Your Aunty Cath brought over a new red dress for you, sweetheart. Isn't it pretty?" Mummy hung the tiered polka-dot frock in readiness on the back of the wardrobe door, and then strode over to the chest of drawers. "Unfortunately I don't have any red plastic panties for you, like your sister - but I guess these will have to do."

She took out some white rubber panties and noisily shook out the glistening wetproof knickers. She glanced into the open drawer again, crying in apparent surprise; "But what's this? What are these doing in your panty drawer, Baby Jennie?" Mummy produced the familiar red satin cheerleader panties and shook them out too. She carried both pairs of shimmering knickers over to where I lay there cringing and blushing in embarrassment. She tossed the rustling white rubber pair on the shelf under the change table, and then stretched out the ruffled red panties in front of my crimson cheeks. "Whose panties are these, Baby Jennie?" Mummy innocently inquired, as if she didn't already know the answer.

My cheeks blazed with shame and my eyes burned with unshed tears as I haltingly replied, "They- they're my pantieth, Mummy." My stiffening clittie became fully erect as I lisped the shameful words. I couldn't control it! Her delicate arched eyebrows rose another notch. Mummy turned the glistening red knickers around in her hands to examine them more closely, frowning in confusion.

"Your panties? But where did these lovely panties come from, little girl? Tell Mummy, darling." I closed my stinging blue eyes in humiliation, unwilling to admit how I acquired the beautiful red satin cheerleader panties. I wanted to squeeze my brimming eyes shut forever and suck on my soothing pink dum-dums, and make everything disappear. "Well, baby?" Mummy gently prompted, as the shameful tears welled in my burning eyes. "Tell Mummy where you got these pretty red panties, little girl?" She cautioned me, "Tell Mummy the truth, baby."

The first hot tear slowly trickled down my flaming red cheek. I reached up to brush it away with shaky fingers, but Mummy was too quick for me. She leaned over my body from the foot of the change table and gently wiped away my tears with the ball of her thumb. The silky-soft panties clutched in her other hand accidentally brushed over my stiff powder-coated tool. It bucked with arousal when the sexy feminine underwear slithered sensuously over the swollen head. I gasped at the rush of thrilling sensations down there, causing Mummy to redirect her gaze from my blushing red face to my bobbing red clittie. "Ooo, I can see my little girl likes these pretty panties! Now tell Mummy where they came from, darling." Her voice was as sweet as molasses, and she smiled down encouragingly at my shame-tinged cheeks.

"Oh Mummy! Mumma, I- I- I got them- They- they're from- They're from Aunty B-B-Bonnie, Mummy," I confessed in a feminine, high-pitched stammer. I cringed in shame even as my stiff clittie surged to greater fullness.
"Did your Aunty Bonnie give you these pretty panties? Hmmm?" I bit harder on my dummy teat and silently nodded, too embarrassed to speak. "Well, they certainly are lovely - and they feel gorgeous, too! Footsies in the air, and point your toesies like a pretty ballerina, baby girl." I obeyed her brightly uttered commands completely by reflex, and was stunned when Mummy swiftly slid the thick satin knickers over my daintily-pointed feet and up my raised legs.

"Footsies down, and lift that little botty for Mummy, Baby Jennie," she tenderly crooned. Again my response was automatic. I shivered uncontrollably when she tugged the snug elastic waistband over my pounding tool, marvelling at the delicious erotic feel of the sleek sexy panties even as hot tears of shame leaked from my burning eyes.

"Botty down, baby. That's my good girl. Let Mummy see… Oh no! These pretty panties are way too big for you, baby girl," Mummy commented in dismay, sounding disappointed on my behalf. I jumped in shock when her broad palm rested over my jutting erection, slowly yet firmly pressing my hot, satin-covered organ down against my trembling tummy. It was throbbing and twitching madly under her cupped hand, although I wanted to die from embarrassment when she crooned, "Ooo! But I can see that my little girl loves these pretty panties very much!" I risked opening my watering blue eyes to look up at Mummy's face, but the hot salty tears made everything seem out of focus.

I blinked my long black lashes rapidly, and shook my head until my vision cleared. I could Mummy she was actually smiling down at my blushing red cheeks, and although I couldn't read her strange expression, her olive green-eyes shone with tenderness "They might fit over your nappies, though," she decided thoughtfully. "Mummy better take these good panties off you, baby girl, before you make a mess in them." In a flash, she whisked the slinky satin knickers down my shivering legs and away, and a sob of disappointment caught in my throat. She dangled them teasingly over the hot red stiffie bobbing above my powdery tummy while she continued to gently interrogate me.

"Now tell Mummy, Baby Jennie," she coaxed enticingly, as she trailed the shimmering ruffles of the dangling red knickers up and down the length of my rigid straining shaft, before draping them liquidly over the swollen purple head. I whimpered and shivered uncontrollably at the amazing sensations, which only made Mummy's strange smile grow broader. Her olive-green eyes were shining with love and her voice was soft and cajoling, which I found reassuring - despite her barrage of embarrassing crooned questions. "Tell Mummy why Aunty Bonnie gave my little girl her favourite cheerleader panties, darling. Tell Mummy."
"Oh Mummy! I- umm. I- I wath- err… Aunty B-B-Bonnie- She- she d-d-didn't w-want them any more, tho… tho she gave them to me, Mummy." I stuttered around my dummy teat in a tearful whiny voice. I knew my ears were turning red, too. I could hear the blood rushing past my eardrums, and they started to softly buzz with humiliation.

"But why didn't Aunty Bonnie want them any more? They look like perfectly good panties to me?" Mummy questioned, sounding convincingly confused. I gasped in pleasure as her soft warm hand slowly wrapped around my pulsating shaft, covering me completely in the delicious thick satin material. She held me ever-so-gently as she insisted in sugary baby tones, "Tell Mummy the truth, baby."

I trembled and twitched at the fantastic erotic grip she had on my turgid clittie, before managing to squeak; "Aunty Bonnie didn't want them any more, after she c-c-caught… she caught me… she caught me b-b-bowwowing them, without her p-p-permithion." I should have known my incomplete answer would be insufficient.

"But why were you borrowing Aunty Bonnie's favourite panties without her permission, Baby Jennie? Tell Mummy exactly what happened," she crooned tenderly. "Tell Mummy allll about it…"
"Oh Mummy," I moaned in humiliation. I wanted to die of shame, even as my rock-hard clittie pulsated maddeningly in her gentle grasp. "I jutht wanted to t-t-twy them on, to- to- to thee what they f-f-felt wike. I wanted to thee what her pwetty pantieth felt wike, Mummy. That'th all!" I sucked harder on my dum-dums, desperate for the comfort the infant soother normally provided.
"That's all?" Her sharp tone clearly indicated her disbelief, and I knew I was going to have to confess everything to her.

"No Mummy!" I penitently sobbed, wincing and writhing in remorse on the pink padded change table. "I- I- I wath hiding in her b-b-bathwoom, twying on her pwetty pantieth, and I got tho exthited, I -I… I thtarted p-p-pwaying with my cwittie," I reluctantly admitted, knowing my burning cheeks had turned scarlet. I could feel a layer of nervous sweat forming under my back, but my raging hot clittie felt stiffer and harder than ever. "I couldn't help it, Mummy!" I wailed loudly, cringing in guilt and shame. "I couldn't help it!"

"You couldn't help playing with your clittie," Mummy repeated slowly, as though struggling to understand. I nodded, too overcome with guilt to look at her. "So my baby likes to wear pretty panties and play with her clittie?" I tearfully nodded my head again, relieved that she wasn't furious with me, but the endless questions continued unabated - fortunately accompanied by her gentle distracting caresses down there. "I see. So wearing pretty panties makes my little girl all excited down here, does it? Is that it? Tell Mummy, baby," she crooned, rubbing me harder.

"Yeth Mummy," I sobbingly confessed, humiliated beyond belief - yet more aroused than ever. The silky-soft satin material slithered up and down my bucking shaft, cupping the head and sliding over sensitive eye of my wildly pulsating clittie. I began to pant with excitement despite the hot tears running down my scarlet cheeks.
"Why, baby girl? Why does it make your clittie hard?" That was the million-dollar question!
"I don't know!" I snivelled loudly in despair, fervently wishing I knew the answer. "I don't know, Mummy! It jutht doeth! I can't help it, Mummy! It jutht doeth."

But my inadequate responses failed to satisfy her curiosity. "Is it because these panties feel so nice, baby?" she gently probed, and she slowly slid her hand up and down my throbbing, panty-covered shaft. I shuddered and writhed in unbelievable ecstasy. "Is that it, darling? Tell me. Mummy needs to know. Tell Mummy now." A low strangled moan was my only response, and I shook my head with difficulty. "Or is it because you look so pretty in them? Is that it, baby?" I trembled uncontrollably and moaned incoherently around my dum-dums again.

"Mummy needs to know everything, baby. Do you feel like a pretty girl when you wear pretty panties, darling?" I timidly nodded, too overwhelmed by shame to speak, trying to ignore the rivulets of hot tears coursing down my flaming red cheeks. "I see," she muttered slowly, and her tender stroking of my shaft suddenly paused. "And are these the only girls' panties you've tried on, sweetheart?" The cold hand of fear clutched at my heart even as my hot hard clittie swelled to greater proportions in her gentle grasp.

I didn't know how much she knew for sure, but I felt certain it was much more than I'd previously suspected. "No Mummy," I whispered in a tiny voice, my throat closing up in shame. I gasped loudly in relief when the fabulous feather-light fondling resumed.
"Who else's panties have you tried on, baby girl? Tell Mummy the truth, sweetheart. Mummy has to hear you say it…"
"Oh Mummy," I cried, sucking noisily on my dum-dums and feeling my burning red cheeks turn crimson. "I- I- I t-t-twied on…" It was so hard to confess my sins to her, but I knew I had to try and tell her the truth. "Mummy, I twied on thome of your pwetty pantieth, too! Oh Mummy! I'm thowwy!" I wailed in remorse, as she uncurled her fingers from around my throbbing shaft and drew the slick satin panties away. "I'm tho thowwy, Mummy!" I apologised in heartfelt regret, as she tossed the sexy red knickers on top of the white rubber panties under the change table.

"Shh baby, shhh," Mummy tried to soothe me, and she used a handy bibbie to wipe up the tears pouring down my flushed red cheeks. I closed my eyelids and let her dab away the salty puddles forming over my eyes. "You suck hard on your dum-dums, baby. Go on. Let me hear you sucking nice and loud. Suck it hard for Mummy." She gently pressed her fingers against the wide pink guard of my pacifier in encouragement, until she could feel the rhythmic sucking movements as I obediently drew harder on the huge amber teat.

"Good girl. That's better," she crooned, as my tears naturally began to slow. "Aww, it's okay, baby. It's alright, little girl. Mummy already knows. Mummy knows everything, baby. Mummy already knows all about your naughty little games in bed at night," she whispered consolingly. I bit on my dummy teat in terror and my whole body jerked in alarm. "Mummy knows her little Jennie sometimes likes to secretly try on her Mummy's big-girl panties and her silky slips. Mummy knows everything! Mummies always know, baby." When I opened my eyes to fearfully glance up at her, she had stepped around to the side of the change table. She smiled forgivingly down at me as she untied the sash of her short, pastel-pink satin robe.

My teary eyes were like saucers when her huge fleshy titties momentarily appeared naked before my startled gaze. I barely caught a glimpse of her mouth-watering, hard brown nipples, before she demurely covered her swaying breasts and directed my attention downwards. "See, baby? Look! Mummy is wearing your favourite panties this morning." When she drew the bottom flaps of her bathrobe aside, I saw through tear-rimmed eyes that indeed Mummy was wearing my favourite panties! The apricot-pink nylon, high-waisted knickers had delicate scalloped edges over the hips, and a cute little ruffled layer across the full seat. These were the same silky panties I borrowed most often from the laundry hamper to wear to bed at night, whenever I could find them. I stared at her panty crotch, my rock-hard clittie twitching madly with arousal, wondering, 'How did Mummy know?'

She obviously saw the unspoken question in my watery blue eyes, because she smiled indulgently as she repeated with serene maternal confidence, "Mummies always know, baby." I gasped in astonishment when she tucked her thumbs inside the ruffled elastic waistband, and she whipped the silky knickers down her long brown legs. She crouched and deftly removed them before I could catch a glimpse of her naked furry kitten.

When Mummy stood, she was already demurely tying her shiny pink robe about her slender waist. She tossed her blonde locks back over her broad shoulders, making her heavy breasts heave and sway distractingly beneath the thin satin robe, then she draped the pretty apricot panties over my hard bouncing clittie. I could feel the deliciously silky knickers were still warm from her lush body, making my raging tumescence swell even more. "Oh Mummy!" I squealed like an excited school girl. "Mumma!"
"Mmm, baby likes that," she murmured softly. I knew it wasn't a question.

Mummy wrapped the warm silken panties all the way around my twitching shaft, holding me with a gossamer touch. "Would you like to wear pretty panties like these - like a big girl, baby? Hmm, Baby Jennie? Is that what my little girl really wants? To wear pretty big-girl panties all the time, like her Mummy and her Aunties?" She stroked me ever-so-gently as she waited patiently for my response.

"Yeth Mummy!" I finally managed to squeak, wriggling and writhing in excitement. "Oh yeth pweathe, Mumma?" I begged her in my high, little-girl voice. My heightened senses were at a fever pitch, and I was unbelievably aware of my surroundings. The thick fluffy nappies underneath me were like a beautiful soft cushion for my bucking bottom. The pink plastic cover of the change table was moist with sweat under my bare back and shoulders, and it stuck to my skin when I wriggled about. Specks of dust danced in the swirling breeze through the shafts of sunlight blazing through the open window. The air was warm and the Nursery smelled sweet with the familiar comforting scents of urine and baby powder. I could even detect a faint musky aroma I recognised as female arousal. I wasn't sure if it was coming from Mummy's warm panties wrapped around my shaft or from her naked kitten under her short robe, where she leaned over the change table beside my head.

"Good girl," she purred, smiling down at me in satisfaction. "What a good little girl for telling Mummy the truth - at last." Her expert fingers danced up and down my pulsating nylon-clad organ in a maddening rhythm that almost pushed me over the edge. "But you can't keep stealing other girls' dirty panties out of the laundry basket, baby. Good little girls don't do that. That's naughty!" I shuddered with shame as she gently chastised me, but at least she maintained her tantalising grip on my throbbing clittie.

"If you want to wear pretty, big-girl panties so badly - Mummy will buy you some sweet silky knickers all of your very own! But first, Mummy needs to know one more thing, Baby Jennie. And she needs to hear the truth. Remember, darling," she softly warned me, "Mummies can always tell when their little babies are lying. Mummies always know. So I want you to tell me the absolute truth, little one. Do you want to be a girl all the time? Or do you just like dressing up in pretty girly things, sometimes? Which is it? Tell Mummy the truth, darling."
"Oh Mummy," I squealed, trembling with uncertainty. "Mummy, I- I- I don't know!"

Her stimulating caresses instantly halted. My head jerked up in alarm, my sweaty shoulders peeling away from the pink vinyl table top with a wet sucking sound. I stared up at her imploringly while her heavenly hot hand hovered inches above my twitching, panty-clad shaft. She demanded; "Do you want Mummy to stop? Well, Baby Jennie?" There was a hint of steel in her soft threatening voice when she insisted, "Is that what my little girl wants?"

"No Mummy!" I shrieked in desperation, trying fruitlessly to raise my hips and thrust my frustrated nylon-covered organ against her tempting warm hand. "Don't thtop, pweathe Mummy?” I begged, “Pweathe don't thtop!"
"Then tell Mummy everything, sweetie," she cajoled in honeyed tones again. She pressed down on my tummy until my shivering sweaty botty flopped back onto the fluffy nappies. "Tell Mummy the truth now." Her flickering fingers rested lightly on the pulsating, panty-wrapped, purple head of my engorged clittie, so softly I could barely tell they were there.

"Oh Mummy! Mummy! Mummy, I want to be a girl!" I cried. I sobbed gratefully when her silky sheathed fist warmly engulfed me again. Every fibre of my being trembled with relief at saying those forbidden words out loud at last. I confessed, "I want to be a baby girl all the time, Mummy!"
"Good girl! That's my good little baby girl!" Mummy tenderly responded. Her olive-green eyes shone with compassion as I recklessly revealed my soul to her. Her gentle grip around my throbbing clittie thankfully tightened, and she began to rapidly slide her curled fingers up and down my panty-wrapped tool. "Then Mummy will buy you some pretty panties all of your very own - just like Mummy's and Aunty April and Aunty Bonnie's - only in your proper girl's size! Gorgeous silky, big-girl panties like the ones you've secretly been trying on - but ones which will fit my beautiful little girl properly."
"Oh Mummy! Yeth Mummy!" I squealed, "Yeth pweathe, Mummy!"

I panted around my dum-dums, breathless with excitement as she accelerated the rapid pumping movements on my jolting nylon-clad clittie. She expertly tightened her grip and squeezed me harder at the same time, till I almost swooned at the unbelievable sensations. "Yeth Mumma! I wanna be a widdle girl! I wanna be a widdle baby girl forever!" As I screamed the long-concealed truth around the nipple of my pink pacifier, it felt like the top of my clittie exploded! There was stuff bubbling out of the tip and spurting into the pretty apricot panties wrapped snugly around the sensitive head. I gasped, squealed and moaned in uncontrollable ecstasy. "Oh Mummy! Mumma! Mumma!"

"Oh there you go!" Mummy exclaimed sunnily, catching my outpourings in the bunched knickers she carefully clasped around my madly pulsating clittie. "Oh good girl! Look! Jennie made lots of creamy baby juice in Mummy's panties."
I didn't understand what was happening to me, but the wonderful feelings completely overwhelmed me. I shuddered violently and almost fainted under her expert stroking hand. The sunlight in the Nursery was flashing on and off like a strobe, and pulses of electricity seemed to jolt through my body. I bit harder on my dummy teat and bucked and thrashed mindlessly, shrieking, "Mumma! Mummy! Mummeeeeee!"

"There, there, baby. That's my darling girl! It's alright, just let it all go in your panties for Mummy. Ohhh, good girl! Shhh! It's alright, Mummy's got you. That's my good baby girl." She gently milked me into her silky apricot knickers for another glorious mind-bending minute. I trembled and twitched uncontrollably on the change table, gasping for breath around my dum-dums and moaning incoherently. "Mmm, good baby! That's it!" she purred. "Get out all the nasty baby juice, darling. That's right. Good girl. Get it all out. Push out all that bad baby juice for Mummy like a good little girl. Mmm, that's better. Oh, good girl! You'll feel so much better after we get all that nasty stuff out of your little clittie, my precious darling," Mummy crooned in saccharine baby talk, prattling distractingly as she gently wiped up the final droplets of my creamy discharge with the dry cotton gusset of her damp nylon panties.

My heart was racing in my chest, pounding like a triphammer against my shivering ribs. It took me several long minutes to regain my breath. Every now and then one of my limbs would twitch and jerk uncontrollably, almost causing me to roll off the narrow padded table. I was barely aware when Mummy tossed her soiled apricot panties in my nappy bucket, before she cleaned up the remaining sticky mess on my tummy and super-sensitive clittie with some cool baby wipes. I sucked noisily on my dum-dums without thinking about it, overwhelmed by what had just occurred. She powdered my limp little organ afresh, and safely tugged the front flap of my bulky nappies over my snowy-white crotch. She was babbling to me in nonsense baby talk as she tightly pinned my nappy in place, and then Mummy gaily ordered, "Lift those little footsies high in the air and ballerina toesies, baby girl." She slid the shiny white panties up my raised legs, and when they stuck to my damp thighs in places, she commented thoughtfully, "Next time before I dress you in your rubber panties, Jennie, I'll powder your thighs first, baby."

As soon as she had the tight elastic waistband and leg bands tucked in to make a snug wetproof seal all around, she brightly commanded me to lift my little feet again. "Leggies up and ballerina toesies, baby girl." This time Mummy slid Bonnie's - my - stretchy red ruffled panties over my obediently pointed toes. I grimaced in embarrassment as I compliantly raised my botty high so she could tug the slippery satin knickers over my bulky nappies in the rear. The slick rubber panties seemed to make the stretchy satin knickers slide more easily over my wide padded hips. I was surprised to find they were a perfect fit when Mummy stretched the rear around my huge puffy seat.

"And down, baby. Good girl. Oh, look! They're a perfect fit over your nappies, Pumpkin! Now listen closely to Mummy, sweetheart. If you want to wear pretty panties like a big girl, Baby Jennie, then you're going to have to learn to stop wetting and pooping your pants. Alright? Babies aren't allowed to wear sexy, big-girl panties - they have to wear nappies and plastic baby panties, because they can't control themselves," Mummy slowly and carefully explained, making sure I clearly understood the difference. She was talking down to me and treating me like I was two years old - not thirteen - but I let her words wash over me without bothering to respond.

"You don't want to wear nappies forever, do you honey?" Mummy demanded in a soft cajoling tone, as she helped me to sit up. "You want to grow up to be a big girl, don't you? Big girls get to wear all sorts of pretty sexy undies and glamorous dresses," she reminded me, smiling hopefully and nodding encouragingly. I sucked on my dum-dums and nodded uncertainly in response, and she gave me a brighter smile in return. "That's good, sweetheart; because Mummy is going to start potty-training both her little girls tomorrow - and I'm sure you don't want to be a baby forever. Do you, my pretty little girl?" She beamed when I hesitantly nodded once more.

At that moment, I would have agreed with almost anything she said. After some feminine red strappy sandals were buckled on my feet, Mummy lifted me down from the change table. I wobbled alarmingly due to the added thickness of the soaker pad. I sucked harder on my dum-dums as she lowered my sleeveless red toddler frock over my bowed head, feeding my limp hands through the shoulder straps without any help from me. When I looked over my shoulder and glanced at my reflection in the mirror, I could see most of the seat of my shiny red panties on display. I knew the attractive shimmering satin ruffles across my well-padded rear would instantly draw every eye to my huge diapered bottom.

When Mummy sat me on my puffy bot-bot in front of the dressing table mirror, she fingered my drooping platinum locks and commented with a disappointed frown, "Your gorgeous curls have all fallen out, sweetie-pie. What a shame Aunty Cath had to wash your hair in the bath last night. Still, it needed a wash. I don't understand why, but you were starting to smell a bit like an unwashed toilet, darling!” Mummy chortled at my disgusted expression. “Not to worry though, my pretty baby girl. Bonnie has made an appointment for you at her salon to have a perm on Saturday morning, so you can wear it 'natural' for the next couple of days. Okay, baby?"

I nodded, although I hardly heard a word Mummy was saying. My mind was still reeling from my first unbelievable orgasmic experience. So many conflicting emotions fought for dominance, I didn't know what to feel. I felt exhilarated, yet exhausted - excited, yet embarrassed - delighted, yet drained. My fading ardour was being supplanted by overwhelming feelings of shame and guilt, and I couldn't look at Mummy's contented smiling face in the mirror when she brushed out my fallen curls. Just like Angie's, Mummy tied my platinum locks in two high feminine pigtails either side of my head, bound with dangly red satin ribbons to match my pretty polka-dot dress - and my frilly satin panties.

I remained subdued in my highchair through breakfast, too. I simply opened my mouth whenever the loaded pink spoon approached, chewing and swallowing distractedly on a mouthful of porridge as I contemplated the cataclysmic consequences my climactic confession could cause. It was only when Mummy used the baby-pink, frill-laden cotton bibbie clipped around my neck to wipe the remaining mess from my chin and cheeks, that I remembered to glance down and check for the embarrassing inscription.

This one read; 'Bedwetter Baby Jennie,' in hot-pink lettering three inches high. I shuddered to think that anyone who saw me wearing this humiliating baby item would instantly know my femme name - and my shameful status. How mortifying! I shrivelled inside at the thought, numbly accepting the pink baby bottle of watered-down orange juice from Mummy with both hands. I shoved the spurting teat in my mouth and tilted the base of the bottle high without actually noticing what I was doing. I didn't see Mummy's wry smile when she saw me leaning back in my highchair and sucking greedily on the clear silicon nipple, clutching my oversized baby bottle with both tiny hands like any normal toddler girl.

Angie wanted to play with our dollies in the back yard this morning, so I obediently stood beside the kitchen door waiting while Mummy buckled my pink leather toddler harness in place. When Angie was safely secured in her old white harness, too, Mummy led us outside carrying our life-size infant dolls. She attached our leashes to the rings on our restraint devices, and made sure the thin metal chains were securely padlocked to the clothesline pole. “Behave yourselves, girls,” Mummy urged us before disappearing back inside.

We'd been quietly playing together for probably a couple of hours, when my friend Michael came strolling around the side of the house into our backyard. "Hi girls," he called, waving to us as he approached. The grinning ten-year-old brushed an errant lock of dark-brown hair out of his bright blue eyes as he asked, "What are you girls doing?"
"Jutht pwaying wif our dollieth," I replied, shyly smiling up at him from around the pink guard of my dum-dums. Michael smiled winningly back at me, sliding his hands into the back pockets of his cut-off blue jean shorts.

Again I realised how handsome my younger friend was, and I recalled how he had faithfully kept his promise not to tell anyone about my shameful baby treatment and sissified appearance. I remembered the way he shyly complimented me a few days ago after the storm, and I felt my cheeks begin to warm from a weird combination of pleasure and embarrassment.

"I like your matching polka-dot outfits, girls," he complimented us. "You both look really pretty today." His easy smile grew broader as he watched my pink cheeks turn a rosier hue. He leaned closer to whisper in my ear: "Especially you, Baby Jennie." I sucked harder on my dum-dums and shyly glanced down at the ground. For the first time, I noticed that Angie's and my pink-painted finger and toenails didn't really go with our red dresses and sandals. I found myself wishing our nails were painted red to match our cute outfits, as I knew girls looked more attractive when all our accessories were colour-coordinated.

Angie was standing close by, clutching both dollies and watching our interaction with a broad grin plastered across her pretty little face. To distract her from saying anything too embarrassing, I quickly suggested Michael join us in our role-playing games. We had a friendly argument for a while about our chosen roles, and I guess I shouldn't have been surprised when Michael ended up playing the daddy, Angie the mummy, and I - of course - was their baby girl. Angie placed our baby dollies aside on the grass, telling them it was time for their nap, and then happily took charge of me. Our roles were reinforced when Mummy strolled out carrying Angie's purple sippy-cup, my filled pink baby bottle, and a green plastic cup of juice for Mike. Angie squealed with glee and sat on the lawn. My sister insisted on feeding me my bottle like I was a real baby. When I whined sulkily and started to half-heartedly object, my younger friend surprised me.

"Settle down, Baby Jennie!" Michael gruffly commanded, after tossing down his juice. I glanced up at him in surprise. "You behave like a good baby girl for your mummy, or daddy will have to spank!" He was smiling broadly as he teasingly threatened me, so I spat out my dum-dums and smiled shyly up at him in return. I obediently lay down with my head resting on Angie's lap, and our grinning Mummy handed my bottle to my beaming sister. Angie eased the dripping silicon teat between my parted pink-stained lips, and I compliantly began to suckle. Michael smiled warmly down at me. "That's better! What a good baby girl you are being for your mummy now, Baby Jennie," he praised me in sweet baby talk, his cobalt-blue eyes shining with amusement. I gurgled with laughter around the spurting nipple of my bottle, accidentally dribbling some juice down my cheeks.

"Oops! Mummy better get one of your bibs, baby girl." She dashed into the house and swiftly returned carrying my slightly soiled 'Bedwetter Baby Jennie' bibbie from breakfast. Angie helpfully raised my head off her lap so Mummy could clip the humiliating pink item around my neck. Our mother smiled down indulgently at us before vanishing back inside the house. I couldn't look my younger friend in the face while Angie fed me the rest of my bottle, but either he didn't notice the shameful message embroidered on my bibbie, or he didn't care if I was a bedwetter, too.

After I'd finished my bottle and Angie had wiped my sticky face clean with my frilly bib, she and Mike made up all these funny scenarios for us to act out. I discretely asked Angie to take off my embarrassing bibbie. When she refused, I wasn't game to ask Michael - or remove it myself. In the last scene we were acting out together, 'daddy' came home and found his 'wife and baby girl' playing happily, and he gruffly insisted on dinner being made while he sat on the edge of our sandpit and dandled his baby girl on his lap. Of course, I weighed almost as much as my skinny ten-year-old friend. He grabbed me around the waist when he tried to balance me on his bony knees, and he unintentionally tickled me around the waist. I fell off his lap, screaming with laughter around my dum-dums.

I squealed when I landed heavily on my puffy padded rear. When Michael jumped up in alarm to help me to my feet, I had to reassure him I was alright between fits of giggles. My cushiony wet nappies protected me perfectly, and I hardly felt a thing. But when he rubbed and patted my lovely warm bottom to brush off the sand and grass, I didn't want him to stop. The gentle vibrations from his patting hand were transmitted right through the wonderful warm wet layers to my sensitive boy-pussy and my excitable clittie, which immediately started to swell in reaction.

"Gee, Baby Jennie! Your panties sure feel nice," he commented in admiration, running his fingers through the ruffled red satin layers stretched over my bulging damp botty, before crisply swatting my deliberately out-thrust seat. I turned and beamed up at him over my shoulder. I bent over a little further, spreading my little legs wider and provocatively sticking out my puffy padded rear in crude invitation. He smiled winningly down at me in return, his gentle palm continuing to caress and slap my slippery satin panty bottom over the slick rubber panties underneath, the crisp swats growing louder and firmer until I began to shudder in delight.

"Well, well! Isn't that a lovely sight!" My head snapped around in alarm when I heard David's sarcastic observation, his deep voice ringing with contempt. "Look at the sweet little girls playing together." Michael snatched his hand from my panty bottom with a guilty start, and he cringed under his big brother's heartless blue-eyes and cruel teasing tone. I slowly straightened up and timidly turned to face our musclebound tormentor, batting my long lashes demurely and pouting innocently around the wide pink guard of my dum-dums.

'Damn!' I mentally cursed. I'd forgotten it was Wednesday, and Mummy had arranged for David to babysit us for a couple of hours. I knew my thick wet nappies effectively concealed my arousal down there, but my cheeks were blushing with embarrassment just the same. I twisted my skinny frame from side to side, making the ruffled red layers of my short polka-dot skirt twirl out in distraction around my bulky satin-covered hips. I straightened the bottom edge of my lace-edged bibbie in an unconsciously feminine gesture. I gazed up at David from under half-closed eyelids, fluttering my long dark eyelashes as I noisily sucked my dummy teat. I didn't realise I was unwittingly imitating Tammy's charming juvenile behaviour from our embarrassing walk to the park the previous day.

David's sensuous upper lip curled in a disdainful sneer, as always, his muscular arms aggressively folded across his manly chest so that his pumped biceps bulged even more than usual. His bulked-up arms and legs were covered in a thick pelt of curly red-blonde hair, almost like wool on a sheep. He was wearing a tight grey t-shirt with the name of some athletic club emblazoned across the front, and a pair of baggy calf-length black shorts. His white high-top sneakers looked brand-new, and he wore them without socks today. I imagined if his feet were as hairy as his legs, he wouldn't need any socks. His Paul Newman-blue eyes were creased against the bright midday sunshine, which added glinting red highlights to his short, sandy-blond hair.

"Hello, 'Bedwetter Baby Jennie'." He snickered nastily after reading aloud the shameful message on my frilly bibbie. I was so frightened of the brawny teenager, my erection shrivelled and I wet myself automatically. But then I realised something more embarrassing urgently needed to come out, and I sucked harder on my dummy teat in terror.

David's posture and attitude altered the second Mummy strode outside to stand beside him. His hulking shoulders dropped disarmingly and he clasped his large calloused hands in front of his crotch. He smiled down at us in that smarmy manner before glancing sideways at our gorgeous mother. Mummy was wearing a knee-length, pink cotton shirt-dress with a colourful floral pattern. The flounced hemline swirled attractively around her muscular brown thighs. It was belted at the waist with a pink woven braid belt, and she wore strappy pink heels on her tanned feet. Her pink-painted toenails looked so cute peeping out under the woven vamp of her high-heeled sandals. I needlessly checked that her fingernails were painted the same rich, lustrous shade. Of course they were! Her shining honey-blonde hair had been freshly blow-dried and curled up and out at the ends, bouncing lightly off her broad shoulders. She looked fresh and tanned and beautiful, with glossy pink lipstick painted on her full smiling lips and long dark eyelashes framing her sparkling olive-green eyes.

Her pleased smile faltered when I cried out in alarm, "Mummy! Oh Mummy!"
"Yes, Baby Jennie? What is it, darling? Mummy has an appointment at the doctor's, and she has to go soon. " Her sweet voice was full of concern, even as she took note of my give-away, puffy red cheeks and my tell-tale squatting stance.

"Oh Mummy! Mummy, I need to do a poo-poo!" I whimpered, my cheeks burning as I made my embarrassing public admission. The first firm turd was already forcing its way out of my useless anal sphincter. I bent my knees and thrust out my big diapered bottom even further to make things easier, and held my breath as I pushed down. There was a mortifying muted crackle of gas from inside my tight-fitting rubber pants, making me wince in shame, but I resolutely held Mummy's bleak, green-eyed gaze. I didn't want her to go and leave David in charge of changing my messy nappy. That would have been far too humiliating, even for a big sissy baby like me!

"Mummy! I'm doing a poo-poo in my nappy!" I wailed like a useless infant. Shameful tears immediately filled my big blue eyes. I didn't have to push very hard before a large firm mass of hot excrement snaked moistly into the seat of my damp diaper.

"Oh dear," Mummy muttered in dismay. She glanced at David in time to catch the scornful expression clouding his handsome features. "Oh well, darling. I suppose I'd better change you before I go," she sighed with more than a hint of regret. She stepped over to release me from the rattling clothesline leash. "Aww, it's all right, baby. Come on, baby girl, don't cry," Mummy cooed, as she unbuckled the pink leather toddler harness from around my trembling torso. "Come with Mummy upstairs to the Nursery, and we'll change you out of that nasty poopy nappy straight away. Come on, baby girl." She took my hand but before she led me inside, she instructed David; "Wait here and keep an eye on Angie, will you? I'll be back in about five minutes after I change the baby. I have to show you a few things before I go."

To be continued in chapter 17.

Because this site has a reader-counter, I know hundreds of people are reading each chapter. It would be nice if some of my readers could be bothered to leave a comment. Any comment!. Just a few words will do.
Baby Jennie