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Synopsis; Aunty Cath takes over the diaper-discipline and potty-training duties concerning Baby Jennie. She decides to punish baby in a manner designed to discourage further nappy-soiling episodes. Caution! This chapter contains B&D and forced scat themes.
Chapter 21. Rubbing Baby's Nose In It
I knelt on the cold white tiles, shivering in fear. Aunty reached behind the bathroom door and took down the long plastic pinafore apron from the hook. Bonnie and Tammy must have left the clear plastic pinnie hanging there after they last finished punishing me. When Aunty Cath looped the white cotton neck strap over her head, I assumed I was going to be draped across her knees this time. My trapped hands fluttered uselessly at my breast as she tightly tied the white cloth sashes behind her slender waist, protecting her shimmering silk blouse and her clean white skirt with a layer of stiff rustling plastic. When my chin dropped, I spied my filthy nappy lying open on the tiles about eighteen inches in front of my knees, and I cringed in shame at the thick load of stinky brown poo-poo collected in the crotch. Despite my embarrassment and trepidation, when I looked down, my swollen, poop-coated clittie was tenting out my baggy baby panties in front, and the dirty brown smears were easily visible though the clear plastic knickers.
Aunty Cath noted the direction of my humiliated gaze, and tut-tutted in annoyance. "My goodness! Look at those dirty, pooey baby panties! And look at all that poo-poo in your nappy!" She sternly commanded, "Look at it!" When I reluctantly lifted my chin and sulkily obeyed, she continued berating me. "Look at that dirty wet nappy! What a dirty little girl! You won't learn, will you?" She made sure her fingers were inserted all the way into the translucent white latex gloves before demanding; "You know what? I think you like pooping in your nappies. I think you love sitting in your filthy waste! Rolling around in it, like a dirty, disgusting little baby! You love poo-poos so much? I'll teach you…" My eyes widened in terror when I saw her pick up the punishment paddle and give the vicious wooden implement a couple of well-rehearsed practice swings to loosen her shoulders. I sucked harder on the fat rubber teat of my dum-dums, which only focused her attention on my comforting baby soother.
"Give that to me!" Cath viciously snatched the huge pink dummy from my mouth by the plastic chain, making me cry out in pain. The clip was simultaneously ripped from the white lace collar of my yellow bibbie. She tossed my pacifier onto the vanity, and my frightened blue eyes anxiously followed its rattling trajectory. I didn't want to lose my dum-dums! The towering brunette yanked out my frilly pink hair bands and hair elastics, making me squeal in pain. My platinum-blonde pigtails fell in disarray over my shivering shoulders.
Aunty Cath stepped out of sight behind my kneeling form, the loud click-clack of her aqua high heels echoing menacingly in the small tiled bathroom. I felt her slip her left hand inside the rear of my chest strap near the buckle, and she curled her fingers around the strong leather band and gave it a few experimental tugs. Satisfied she had a secure grip on my toddler harness, she used the hand holding the paddle to press down on the back of my bowed head.
"Bend over, baby girl," she sternly ordered. I found her calm, collected tone absolutely terrifying. I gasped in horror when Cath used my pink leather harness to force me to bend forward from the waist, my trapped hands thrashing uselessly in front of my bosom in a vain attempt to prevent myself from falling. The dirty pile of poo-poo lay right in front of me, and as I passed the point of overbalance, my horrified face accelerated towards the thick mass of stinky brown excrement gathered in the soggy crotch of my well-used cloth nappy.
"No no!" I squealed in wide-eyed alarm. Aunty's tight grip on the rear of my leather harness fortuitously interrupted my fall. My twitching nose was poised mere millimetres above the glistening recent contents of my bowels. The over-ripe, musty-fruit stench filled my flared nostrils. I inhaled deeply, filling my lungs with the odious vapour so I could piteously shriek, "Pweathe no, Aunty?"
"What is that you can smell, baby?" Aunty Cath ruthlessly demanded. She used her grip at the back of my toddler harness to give my whole body a warning shake when I was too slow to respond. "Well? What can Baby Jennie smell?"
My wrinkled nose waggled a hair's breadth above the noxious brown mess, the tip almost scraping the top of one semi-solid log poking up in the middle. "It'th poo-pooth! Poo-pooth, Aunty! Poo-pooth!" I wailed like a terrified toddler. Tears trickled down my nose to drip wetly onto the pungent pile below.
"Yes baby!" Her sunny tone indicated she thought I was the cleverest baby in the whole wide world. "It's poo-poos!” Cath brightly agreed, before demanding, “And whose poo-poos is it?"
"My poo-pooth! It'th my poo-pooth, Aunty Cath," I sobbed contritely.
"And where did you do your poo-poos, baby girl?" she inquired in that syrupy baby voice.
"In my nappy! I did poo-pooth in my nappy! Poo-pooth!" I hiccupped between sobs, prattling like a petrified pre-schooler.
Cath sounded like she was praising a precocious toddler when she sang, "That's right, baby girl! You did a lovely big poo-poo in your nappy! And what else did you do in your nap-naps, Baby Jennie?" she coaxed, directing my responses.
"Wee-weeth! I did wee-weeth and poo-pooth in my nap-napth," I blubbered like a frightened two-year-old.
"Yes baby, you did lots of lovely warm wetties and big squishy poopies in your nap-naps! Didn't you? Does it smell nice, little girl?"
"No Aunty!"
"No Aunty?" Her sharp tone indicated her disbelief at my wailed reply. I sobbed in shame when she insisted again; "No? But baby? From the frequency with which you've been filling those nappies, I thought you enjoyed the smell and feel of your own waste?"
I wasn't sure if she required an answer, but I dismally responded, anyway. "No Aunty Cath." I hoped she couldn't tell I was lying. I couldn't I tell her how wonderful it felt to have my deliciously sodden nappies wrapped like a warm loving hand around my excitable stiff clittie.
She cruelly mimicked my plaintive high-pitched whimper when she mockingly repeated, "No Aunty Cath!" Her voice grew softer when she insisted in more honeyed tones, "Are you sure? I think you secretly like it, little girl! I think my naughty Baby Jennie secretly loves making lovely hot squishy poo-poos in her pissy-wet nap-naps. Hmmm?"
I wondered fearfully, 'How does she know?' I didn't see her quietly place the paddle aside, but I jumped in shock when she reached down and ran her right palm over the frilly lace rows decorating the transparent seat of my crackling baby panties. Her fingers smoothed the thick plastic below the ruffles into the crease of my trembling buttocks, which parted for her almost by reflex. Without my nappies on, my baby panties were so loose, she could press her stiffened fingertips deeply into my anal cleft. Cath used my warm faecal matter as a sticky lubricant to tease open my sensitive hole. I moaned uncontrollably when her probing fingers actually forced my crinkling panties a couple of inches inside my excitable boy-pussy, thrusting erotically in and out of my dirty dilated anus. I shuddered and moaned at the naughty arousing sensations, my knees s sliding a little further apart on the cold tiles..
Aunty Cath chortled at my uncontrollable moans of pleasure as I sluttishly spread my knees even wider and poked my bum out for more. She shoved two stiffened fingers deep inside my slippery soiled botty-hole, all the way to the last knuckles. "All that poo-poos coming out of this wicked little hole… You love it!" She started to pump her fingers in and out of my greedy back door until I gasped in arousal. "Is there any more poo-poo up there, baby girl?" she demanded. "Is there?"
"No Aunty. No poo-pooth! No more poo-pooth!" I foolishly promised, my whole body shivering with excitement when she rammed her two diddling digits inside me to the hilt again.
Cath spread the fingers inside me as wide as possible inside the supple plastic, before twisting them around in my sensitive opening as she rapidly slid them in and out. She withdrew her playful waggling digits and slipped her hand further down between my splayed thighs, poking the dirty throbbing stiffie trapped inside my clinging plastic panties. "Oh yes!” she crowed triumphantly. “You love it, you dirty baby girl!"
I couldn't understand why my clittie jumped and twitched to greater fullness in her cupped palm, but I gasped at the thrilling sensations coming from down there. At the same time the ball of her right thumb massaged my delicate botty-hole wider, making me shudder and groan in excitement. "Oh yes," Aunty murmured confidently. "You love it, all right! Well baby, seeing as you love your poo-poos so much…"
Her nimble fingers briskly rubbed up and down the length of my straining shaft, while her stiffened thumb simultaneously poked my sticky panties right inside my naughty boy-pussy again, wiggling around inside of me until I almost swooned. My excitable pee-pee felt like it was about to gush bad baby juice all over the inside of my poopy panties. My dirty bottom began to rock and buck in that familiar tell-tale manner, and when I began to whimper and moan in excitement, Aunty abruptly snatched away her stimulating hand. WHACK! My bobbing, upturned rear was a perfect target for her savage ministrations. I screamed in pain when the harsh wooden paddle came slamming down on my plastic-sheathed posterior. At the same time, Aunty relaxed her grip on the back of my toddler harness and I clamped my eyelids shut in terror.
Completely off-balance, my tear and snot-streaked face plunged into the inch-thick pile of poop beneath me. My screaming mouth gaped open, and a mass of still-warm excrement burst between my wide-stretched lips to fill my maw. My plaintive squeals for mercy were effectively muffled by my own poop-filled nappy. The horrible stench and taste became one as I tried to push the revolting waste out of my mouth with my tongue. I squealed and grunted wordlessly in revulsion, my trapped fingers waving fruitlessly inches from my bosom.
I managed to turn my face to the right, smearing more sticky poo-poo over my left cheek and chin. Even my nostrils were partly clogged with stinky brown filth. "There, baby!" Aunty Cath sounded satisfied even as she cruelly scolded me. "Is that nice?" WHACK! "Is that what baby wanted?" The second harsh spank was even more painful. When I screamed and tried to wriggle away, I found she was still gripping the rear of my harness, pressing me down, crushing any hope of escape. "Ooo, look at you rubbing you face in it! I knew it! You do love it!” she crowed. “Turn your widdle face the other way, Baby Jennie." WHACK! "Go on!" WHACK! WHACK! "Turn your face!"
I squealed in fresh pain as I awkwardly twisted my head to the left instead, unable to avoid rubbing my mouth and nose through the worst of the stinky pile again. Aunty bent over to better inspect my poop-coated features, and she had to giggle at the messy results. "Ahhh! That's better! Isn't it, Baby Jennie? Isn't it?" WHACK! WHACK! She insisted more forcefully, "Isn't it, little girl?"
"Wah! Waah! Yeth Aunty! Waaaah! Yeth!" I wailed around a mouthful of soft poop, my high-pitched voice thick with filth. I didn't want to get poo in my eyes, and kept my eyelids tightly clenched as I cried in regret. "Waaaah!"
"Mmm! Yes, that's better!” Aunty Cath sang in saccharine toddler tones. “Lots of lovely warm poo-poo all over your widdle face! Go on! Rub your nose in it, you dirty girl!" She used the toddler harness to lift my torso slightly, so it was easier for me to turn my face back into the smelly pile of warm moist crap. When I was too slow to obey her awful commands, a vicious barrage from the paddle encouraged me to swiftly comply. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! "Go on, you dirty, disgusting little piggy! Rub your face in your own stinky mess."
"Waah!" I obediently thrust my face deep into the centre of the pile of still-warm poo, rubbing my nose in it and smearing fresh filth all over my cheeks, chin and forehead. "Waaah! Waaaah!"
"Ooo, that's it!” Cath squealed in mock-approval. “Look at the little piggy rubbing her face in it! What a dirty little piggy! A poopy little piggy!" My snot and tears watered down the firmer pieces, allowing them to moistly adhere to my burning cheeks. I continued to scream and cry for mercy as Aunty unendingly chastised me like I was a disgusting two-year-old. I felt her hand pressing down on the back of my head, completely burying my face in my own gooey mess.
"There! You love poo-poos so much…. Rub your nose in it! That's right! Get a good face full…" There was yucky poo-poo smeared all over my lips and tongue. Slimy filth clogged my nostrils, making breathing difficult. Bitter-tasting crap was irremovably lodged between my teeth and tucked in the pockets of both cheeks. Not only that - more poo-poo began to helplessly squirt out of my ravaged rosebud even as she rubbed my nose in it. I couldn't control it. It was like the soft turds were pulsing out of my puffy hole bit by bit, without any volition or effort from me.
When Aunty Cath noticed fresh brown lumps bulging out the seat of my transparent plastic panties, she screeched in disgust! "Oh you dirty baby! You're still doing it! You're pooping your panties again!" WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! The next flurry of blows landed right over my dilated sphincter, painfully smashing the fresh emerging turds all over my quivering seat. "You dirty, dirty baby!" WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! She ignored my muffled shrieks and spanked me so hard, I feared I'd never be able to sit again. "And wetting, too?" WHACK! "That'd be right!" WHACK! WHACK! "What a hopeless, dirty, sissy pissy cry-baby!"
I didn't realise I was peeing as well, but when I ducked my chin and opened my eyes to try and peer down between my spread knees, I could see the crotch of my transparent baby panties was sagging under the weight of a growing puddle of golden liquid. I didn't care that more poop became smeared all over my forehead and in my hair, too. There was icky sticky poo-poo stuck to me everywhere! What difference did a bit more make? It wasn't until then I realised my stiff clittie must have gone down sometime during my paddling, although I had no idea when I had started wetting. I was still peeing uncontrollably, and I watched through a veil of tears as the yellow puddle sagged lower. It noisily sloshed forward when the paddle viciously slammed against my out-thrust rear again. WHACK! “Waaah!”
Aunty frostily demanded, "Have you finished, baby?"
"Waaah!" I was momentarily incapable of replying, which merely earned me another crisp loud swat on my poop-coated, upturned rear. WHACK! "Waaaaahhhh!"
"Have you finished filling your baby panties with pee-pee and poo-poo, little girl?" She encouraged me to respond with another savage spank on my burning red bottom. WHACK! The poopy wet plastic panties clinging to my cheeks seemed to amplify the sound of each harsh blow. “Well?”
"Waaah! Yeth Aunty! I finished! Waaaahhh!" I finally managed to wail around a mouth full of yucky poop, and I heard the wooden clatter of the paddle when she tossed it on the vanity bench.
Cath snorted in disbelief, "I don't think so! What a hopeless, dirty little girl you are!" Her tone was so reproachful, I shuddered and whimpered in shame, despite my feelings of relief when she cast aside the vicious punishment implement.
"Waah! Waaah! Waaaah!" I wailed in heartfelt remorse. I tried to lift my face out of the stinky wet nappy. Without the use of my hands, it was well-nigh impossible.
Leaning over my prostrate form, Aunty Cath wrapped her gloved fingers in the hair at the back of my head. She used it like a handle, and slowly and painfully pulled me upright. My face separated from my filthy nappy with a disgusting wet sucking sound, the weight of the saturated cloth slowly dragging it free from my hot cheeks. I was trembling with reaction, almost incapable of holding myself erect on my sore knees. I sucked in a deep breath that was tainted with the heady stench of my own fresh faeces. She gathered the dirty nappy from the floor and raised it to my face, holding the messy crotch under my chin.
"Waah! I'm sowwy!” I wailed contritely. “Waaah! I'm sowwy, Aunty!" Flecks of shit spilled from my mouth and flew from my nose as I sobbed my heartfelt apologies to Aunty Cath. She stared down at me with crushing disdain, catching the brown matter spewing from my mouth with the filthy open diaper she held under my poop-stained chin.
"Are you satisfied now?" she snarled. "Look at yourself! What a dirty, disgusting, poopy little girl!" When she stepped aside to toss the filthy nappy in the tub, I realised I was kneeling up facing the vanity. I was confronted by my unrecognisable reflection in the mirror above the basin. "Is this what my baby needs to help her learn? Look at yourself! Go on, look!"
I stared at my horrifying reflection in shame. My entire face was covered in a thick layer of rich brown poo-poo, like I had dipped my face into a bucket of sticky mud. When I opened my eyes wide, I looked like I was wearing a mud facial - only mud never smelled this bad! Tears of humiliation poured from my rapidly-blinking blue eyes. I tried to turn away from my sordid reflection, only to have Aunty savagely grab my hair and relentlessly force me to confront my filthy image once more.
"Look at yourself! Look at that dirty, disgusting baby girl!" she commanded ruthlessly. The copious tears coursing down my flushed cheeks made startling pink tracks in the thick brown layer. "Is that nice?" When I was too slow to respond, she used the gloved fingers twined in my dirty blonde locks to give my head another painful warning shake. She demanded more insistently, "Is that nice, Baby Jennie? All that poo-poo on your face?"
"No Aunty!" I wailed, blubbering in shame at the disgusting brown-and-white minstrel I could see staring back at me in the mirror.
"No Aunty!" The tall brunette Amazon mimicked my remorseful shriek with uncanny cruelty. Then her tone turned cloying once more, and she poked out her bottom lip mock-sympathetically as she stared at my humbled reflection in the mirror. "Aww, look at you! What a dirty baby girl! A pooey baby girl! What are you, Baby Jennie?"
"Pooey baby," I snivelled submissively.
"Yes, that's right. A dirty, pooey baby girl. What are you?" A painful tug on my hair encouraged my swift reply.
"Dirty, pooey baby girl," I contritely mumbled, my breathing still ragged.
"Yes you are! Oh baby, look at you!" She wrenched my head from side to side so I could see the thick brown layer covering my face ear-to-ear. A nasty little lump oozed from my trembling bowed chin to drop moistly onto my shameful yellow bib, where it stuck like shit to a blanket. "Poo-poo in the face, poo-poo in the hair… There's poop in your mouth, and it's even gone up your nose! Oh yuck! Yuck-spuck!"
"Yuck-thpuck," I childishly agreed. I wanted to wipe the filth from my face with my hands, but with my wrists shackled immovably to my toddler harness, I was still helpless.
"You love poo-poos in your nappy so much? From now on, every time you soil your nappy, Aunty is going to rub your face in it!” I gazed up in horror at her. “Yes, that's right!” she assured me sincerely. “Smelly fresh poo-poo up your nose, and lots of yummy poo-poos filling your mouth. Every time from now on - again and again and again - until my disgusting little panty-pooper finally learns to hold it for the potty." She released her agonising grip on my hair, and my poop-coated chin collapsed onto my dirty bibbie with a sob of contrition.
"You will learn, baby! Aunty will make sure you learn, little girl." She made me kneel facing the white tiled corner while she sluiced my poopy nappy in the tub, muttering in disgust at the lengthy clean-up required. After she dumped the wrung-out beige nappies in my nappy bucket, she returned to the bathroom and removed her stained latex gloves with a grimace of distaste, and tossed them in the bin under the vanity bench.
"You make sure you stay right there in the corner, you bad baby girl," Aunty Cath warned me, "and don't touch your face to the wall. It's dirty!" She left me kneeling there for about ten or fifteen minutes, I think. I really had no idea. My knees were really getting sore and my arms were starting to cramp up by the time she returned to release me. The stinky poo-poo caked on my face had started to dry hard, and my drooling mouth was full of the vile taste. Cath remained frowning and silent while she unclipped my wrists from my toddler harness, then she unbuckled and removed my pink patent-leather cuffs. "Aunty is going to leave these special baby bracelets here for Mummy to use on her naughty little girl, whenever she thinks you need them," she malevolently informed me, before she urged me to stand in the bathtub.
Cath put on a fresh pair of disposable latex gloves before pulling down my dirty rumba panties, wincing in disgust. She let the tepid golden contents splash around my footsies, before I clumsily lifted each leg in turn so she could remove them. I watched the yellow puddle trickle down the drain. She leaned down low and carefully shook out the dirty wet panties, her pert nose wrinkling in revulsion, even though she was wearing her protective plastic pinafore and the latex gloves. Then she stood, towering over me with a malicious smile plastered across her beautiful face.
"Here, baby girl," Aunty Cath cooed invitingly, opening the waistband of my soiled panties wide with both hands, before slipping the mucky item over my head. I tried to twist my face aside, but my efforts to avoid her were fruitless. When I raised my hands to remove the suffocating plastic pilchers, she savagely smacked my wrists away. "Stop wriggling and don't touch, Baby Jennie!" she scolded me like she was correcting a disobedient toddler. I whimpered in agony as I hid my hands behind my back, hopefully out of her reach. "Aunty has to remove your toddler harness and your pretty frock, and we don't want to get your yucky poo-poos all over everything. Do we, baby?"
I reluctantly left the stinky clinging baby panties in place over my bowed head while she unbuckled and removed my toddler harness, the badly poop-stained baby bib, and my floaty yellow dress. Well, not so floaty, now. It was sticky with my sweat, and she had to peel the sheer toddler frock away from my shivering damp torso, before tugging it over my plastic-wrapped head. Thank goodness the frock’s lace-edged neckline was so wide! I gasped for the small amount of air the leg holes allowed in, but every straining breath I inhaled was heavily tainted with the overpowering stench of my own waste.
When I was finally naked, Aunty Cath ripped the thick plastic panties from my head, grinning callously when I sucked in a much-needed lungful of somewhat fresher air. "Step back, you dirty child," she crisply ordered. When I shuffled out of the way, Aunty turned on the shower and pointed to the bottom of the tub. "Get down on your knees, little girl." She adjusted the temperature and when it was steaming up the room, she commanded me to crawl under the running hot shower.
I didn't have to be told to tilt my filthy face up into the forceful stream, letting the hot water blast away the thick coating of crap from my scrunched features. Aunty Cath supervised me in the tub while I fiercely scrubbed the stinky brown mess from my face with a soapy washcloth she handed me, and then I shampooed, repeat shampooed, and conditioned my dirty blonde locks under her insistent direction. All the while I repeatedly rinsed my mouth and gargled in the running hot stream, trying desperately to wash away the awful lingering taste of my own poo-poo.
I scoured clean my dirty bot-bot and crotch next, the flowing water turning brown around my feet for a few minutes, until the smelly evidence of my uncontrollable soiling eventually swirled down the drain. Under her direction, I clambered off my knees and squatted, and scrubbed and rubbed between my legs with the soapy washer until the water finally ran clear. Aunty nodded with stony-faced approval when I hesitantly rose to my feet, and she made me slowly turn all the way around, so she could inspect me front and back. Satisfied for the moment, she reached in and turned off the water, adjusting the knob so the flow would come out of the bath faucet instead of the shower head.
The portable hand-held shower was attached to the faucet, and I was confused when Aunty spent a few moments pulling the small rubber shower head free from the thin white hose. She turned up the hot tap, then the cold, letting the stream from the rubber hose run on one hand, adjusting the temperature repeatedly before she seemed content. She flicked the steady flow across my feet, and I found the water quite warm - almost hot. When I didn't pull away or protest, she smiled tightly and then ordered, "Lie on your left side facing the wall, baby. And draw your top knee up to your boosies." I obeyed with alacrity, lying on my side in the cooling tub and drawing my right knee right up to my breast, exposing my wrinkled pink hole for Aunty. She dropped the spurting hose behind my back, and for a few moments, I enjoyed the soothing warmth flowing across my spine.
Warm water gushed around my upper body while Aunty smeared my sensitive poo-poo hole with a glob of Vaseline. She swiftly inserted one gloved finger right inside my delicate puckered opening, making me gasp in pleasure as she forced it in to the last knuckle. Without thinking, my thumb automatically crept between my lips and I started sucking on it. Aunty's probing finger curled and swirled and twirled inside me, coating every inch of my dilating sphincter with greasy gel, before she added a second slippery digit. "Ooo!" I moaned helplessly in arousal, and I knew my excitable clittie was starting to stiffen once more. "Oh Aunty! Ooo!" I moaned around my thumb.
Aunty Cath ignored my thrilled whimpers and continued twirling her lubricated fingers inside my back door, until I began unconsciously pressing back against her stimulating touch. "Hmph!" She snorted in contempt at my give-away gyrations, and ripped out her titillating digits and picked up the spurting rubber hose. She rubbed the film of Vaseline remaining on her gloved fingers around the end of the hose, then aimed the steady flow at my greasy pink opening. I gasped when the hot stream gushed inside my bot-bot, forcing its way past my uselessly clenching muscles.
"Open up, baby girl," Cath softly urged me, and I obediently relaxed my anal sphincter to make the insertion easier. "That's it! Open right up for Aunty. Good girl!" She fed the running hose several inches inside my bowels, and the hot water quickly filled me to overflowing. Brown-tinged water began to spurt from my ravaged hole, carrying with it small pieces of stool I had failed to expel in my nappy or my baby panties. "Squeeze your bottom hole shut for Aunty," she ordered sharply, and I hastened to obey.
In a few seconds, water began to spray from my desperately clenching anus, regardless of my valiant efforts to retain it. Aunty snorted in annoyance and ripped out the hose - accompanied by a flood of dirty brown water exploding from my bowels. She commanded unnecessarily, "Push baby! Try and push out the poo-poos!" Filthy liquid and hard little nuggets of dark-brown poo-poo squirted out of me, and Aunty used the forceful hot stream from the hose to steer the bigger lumps towards the drain.
"Ahh, that's better!” Cath sang in approval. “Look at that! Look at all those nasty little lumpies! Aunty will make sure there's no more yucky poo-poos up inside her little girl’s bot-bot. Won’t she? After all, we certainly don't want to do any more poo-poos in our nappies today. Do we, baby girl?" I could only groan and shake my head in useless denial as she rammed the hose inside me again, before ordering me to clench my botty-hole and hold it for as long as I could manage.
I seemed capable of holding the hose inside for longer this time, the hot flow pouring into me until I could feel it gushing into new, unexplored areas of my colon. I almost bit my thumb in alarm. "Oh Aunty! Aunty no!" I finally begged, when I felt my tummy starting to bulge alarmingly.
"Hold it! Hold it for Aunty, baby," she urged me, but it was no use. The pressure was too great, and it was suddenly painful, too. I wailed in distress as smelly water exploded from my uselessly clenching anus. Aunty yanked out the hose and clucked her tongue in reproval at the tiny black lumps she hosed down the drain. "I thought you told Aunty you had finished doing poo-poos? What a naughty, deceitful little girl you are!"
I lay there shivering and shuddering in shame as more water continued to trickle from my ravaged back door. I sucked harder on my thumb and wished it was my dum-dums, hoping she wouldn't notice me sucking my thumb like a big baby. But my Aunty was fortunately preoccupied washing all the nasty little lumpies down the drain. She forced the hot gushing hose back inside me several more times, and although I tried to clench my sphincter and hold it when she commanded, my control seemed to diminish with every enervating flush. Finally she seemed satisfied, and she ordered me to my feet.
"Stand up for Aunty, Baby Jennie. Come on baby girl, get to your feet." I pulled out my thumb and wiped a thin film of sweat from my face, and clumsily stood upright. My tummy bulged out so much, I couldn't see my painted pink toenails when I looked down.
"Oh Aunty," I groaned in discomfort, gently wrapping my fingers across my distended stomach in a useless protective gesture. The skin was as tight as a drum, and I sloshed inside when I stumbled in the slippery bathtub.
"Careful baby!" Aunty grabbed my shoulder with her right hand to prevent me from falling, and she brushed aside my hands from my swollen stomach with her free hand. "Ooo, look at that tum-tums sticking out!" She chuckled, "You look like a starving African baby, with that big bulging tummy."
"Ooo Aunty!" I moaned in pain when her left palm rested firmly on my gurgling abdomen. Her grip on my shoulder tightened to prevent me from wriggling away, and then the hand over my bulging tummy unexpectedly and painfully pressed down. I screamed in alarm, "Oh Aunty no!"
"Shh baby girl! Shhh," she carelessly soothed me, as she pressed down firmly on my poor distended stomach. Aunty Cath rolled the heel of her hand from my belly button down to my left hip in short juddering jabs, as though she was attempting to force the sloshing contents down my colon – and she was! "It's alright, baby. Aunty knows there's lots of water still trapped up inside your tum-tums, so Aunty has to help you push it all- Oh there you go! Squat down, baby. Quickly now! Squat down over the plug hole." I wailed in distress as dirty brown water began to first trickle out of my useless anal sphincter, then it began to actually squirt from my bottom as I obediently squatted over the drain.
For a minute or two it felt like I was doing a wee-wee out of my poo-poo hole! I squatted to pee like a little girl, gazing down between my splayed thighs to see the thin stream pour out so femininely from between my legs. I even began peeing at the same time, the golden flow from my limp clittie mixing with the dirty brown water swirling around my feet. Suddenly I felt something solid dislodge from somewhere deep inside me, and with an alarmingly loud embarrassing fart, a huge pile of dark-brown, almost-black stuff plopped out of my dilated opening. "Oh Aunty! Aunty no!" I shrieked in alarm as the horrible mess noisily farted out of me. "Noooo!" Spastic contractions gripped my colon, and it felt like my insides were trying to come out all at once. But Cath ignored my wails of distress, and continued encouraging me to empty my bowels like a good baby.
"Oh good girl! Good girl, Baby Jennie! See? Aunty knew there was more smelly poo-poos stuck inside you, didn't she? Push, baby. Take a big breath and hold it, and try and push out all the nasty, yucky poo-poos." It was like she was trying to teach me how to use the potty, and I cringed in mortification as I struggled to obey her like an obedient toddler being toilet-trained. Despite the feelings of shame and humiliation threatening to overwhelm me, I succumbed to the irresistible demands of my body and my Aunt's syrupy crooned instructions, and tried to bear down to empty myself completely.
Cath used the hose to wash the muck down the drain while I had to shakily stand again. This time I was extra-careful as I slowly clambered upright. She made me stretch my arms above my head for a few seconds, and then twist my torso from side to side before I could lower my hands. She firmly rubbed my tum-tums again, and this time I couldn't wait to squat over the plug hole. Each huge burst of water from inside me seemed to leave me weaker and more drained. Well, I guess that made sense.
Aunty made me stand still while she firmly and repeatedly massaged my tummy over my descending colon, pressing her shaking fingers deeply inside the fold of my left hip. I collapsed back against the tiled wall, unable to avoid her punishing hand. When more horrible brown water trickled out, she ordered me to squat over the drain once more, but this time the semi-solid rush was much smaller. We had to go through the rubbing and squatting routine several more times before she appeared satisfied, and then she ordered me onto my hands and knees. I knelt with my blushing red forehead pressed against the end of the cool enamel tub, my damp bruised bot-bot perched high for her inspection. I heard her unsnap the cap of the Vaseline tub again, and shuddered with a combination of fear and arousal.
"Open up, baby," Aunty purred, and this time she slid two fingers straight inside my naughty little hole. Her gloved digits were well lubricated with Vaseline, and slipped inside my ravaged anus without any resistance at all. I moaned helplessly in arousal when she curled her longest fingers all the way inside my poo-poo hole, and then she thrillingly twirled them around inside my sensitive opening. "Oh good girl! You're nice and open for Aunty now!” she praised me. “Aren't you, little girl?"
"Oh! Ooo! Yeth Aunty Cath," I meekly responded, and then moaned in disappointment when she plucked the twirling fingers from my greedy wrinkled hole. "Ohhh!" She gave a sharp snort of laughter before she plunged the streaming hose inside me once more.
"Don't bother trying to hold it this time, baby girl," Aunty reassured me, "just let it flow out. Relax, baby." I slumped on my elbows and knees and gratefully let my ravaged poo-poo hole relax open. There was a small amount of faintly brown-tinged water flushed out at first, but then the lazy hot stream from my botty-hole ran clear for several minutes. 'Good girl," Aunty praised me, as she examined the unsullied water circling the drain. "I think our Baby Jennie is a lovely clean little girl inside, now. Aren't you?"
"Yeth Aunty," I timidly agreed, before she made me stand and then shakily squat over the plughole again. After a tiny clear trickle, nothing else came out, even when I tried hard under her direction.
"Go on, baby. Push hard for Aunty. Try and do a lovely big poo-poo, like you love to do in your nappies," she encouraged me with a sly smirk. "Aunty knows how much you enjoy that! Go on; pretend you're doing a lovely big, hot, squishy poo-poo in your nap-naps. "
When nothing more came out despite my earnest red-faced efforts, she dropped the plug in the drain and ripped the hose from the bath faucet. She turned up the water pressure and raised the temperature too, and then added a capful of sweet-smelling bubble bath to the filling tub. In moments the tub was half-filled with strawberry-scented bubbles, and I began to relax, hoping that my punishment time was over. Despite the fact that I had washed myself thoroughly under the shower, Aunty Cath took a fresh washcloth and after soaping it up, she insisted on scrubbing me all over like I was a useless toddler, anyway. She shampooed my hair for the third time and conditioned it again, too, scouring my scalp with her gloved fingernails in an effort to make sure no yucky poo-poo smell lingered on my long platinum locks.
The most embarrassing part came when she made me stand up to wash my bits. She knelt beside the tub clad in the clear plastic pinafore, waiting expectantly until I clumsily clambered to my feet amidst the froth and bubbles. I turned my face to the wall in shame and pressed my palms against the cool tiles to help maintain my balance. She spread my battered bottom cheeks with one hand and scrubbed my sensitive wrinkled hole again and again, until she was certain I was crystal-clean back there. Despite my shivering embarrassment, my little clittie slowly grew stiffer during her gentle anal probing. When she grabbed my hips and turned me side-on to her, my thickening tool poked out uncontrollably, swaying and bobbing in front of her face, pleading for her attention.
Much to my relief, she merely chuckled when she noticed my helpless turgid reaction. I didn't understand her intentions when she reached for the tub of Vaseline again, but my throbbing clittie instinctively swelled even harder, until the swollen purple tip was pointing at the ceiling. She smeared a small amount of gel on two gloved fingers, and then turned to me with a wolfish smile. "Bend over and stick out that little bot-bot for Aunty, baby girl," she crooned invitingly. "Aunty has to make sure there is absolutely no more nasty poo-poos stuck up inside that naughty little hole of yours." With no choice, I submissively leaned forward and placed my hands on my knees, and poked out my bottom slightly. She used the fingers of her other hand to stretch my bruised botty cheeks wide, and then her greasy fingers were tickling open my well-used sphincter once more.
I couldn't prevent my helpless sigh of acceptance as her longest fingers easily slid all the way inside me, like fingers into a well-used glove. When she curled and twirled her digits inside my slippery hole, I even squatted down and poked my bottom out further to aid her obscene anal investigation. "Good girl," Aunty Cath crooned, her emerald eyes twinkling with mischief. "You open that little hole wide for Aunty. That's right. Good baby. Hmmm. I can't feel any poo-poos inside so far... That's good…" She used the fingers deeply inserted in my anus to force me to stand upright and turned my body slightly towards her. My stiff clittie was almost bobbing in front of her face, but then she regrettably removed her titillating fingers from my rear. She laughed at my unmistakable moan of disappointment and gently ordered, "Turn to face me and open your legs, baby girl. Open wide."
I eagerly obeyed her softly uttered commands and spread my footsies under the water. My beautiful brunette Aunty slid her gloved hand between my splayed legs and deftly probed for my delicate anal opening with her slippery fingertips again. She wrapped the warm soapy washer around my jutting tool with her other hand. Aunty Cath proceeded to gently rub the warm wet cloth up and down the length of my throbbing shaft, while simultaneously thrusting two, then sometimes three fingers, in and out of my greasy anus. I gasped aloud at the pleasurable sensations and squatted lower, sticking out my bum like a wanton hussy to grant her easier access to my boy-pussy.
Aunty Cath's longest gloved fingers plunged all the way inside me to the last knuckle, and then she twisted and turned them thrillingly inside my gaping opening. "Oh Aunty," I groaned in bliss, as the soapy warm washcloth wrapped around my clittie sensuously slid up and down. Her large fist enveloped me in familiar soggy wet warmth as she stroked me to unbelievable heights of pleasure, before I realised she was questioning me about something.
"Well baby? Is that nice?" Aunty softly demanded.
"Oh yeth, Aunty Cath! Yeth!" I squealed like an excited little girl, and she smiled in approval as she matched the expert slow thrusting movements of each hand.
"Oh yes, baby likes that," she purred knowingly, but then her voice took on a hint of warning. "But only big girls get to play like this. You know that, don't you Baby Jennie? Only big girls who wear big-girl panties get to play with their clitties and their pussies. Not silly little baby girls, who still have to wear nappies."
"Oh Aunty! Yeth Aunty Cath!" I moaned uncontrollably.
I didn't realise she had added a fourth thrusting finger to the ones already inside me, but the sensations radiating from my sensitive puffy opening were mind-blowing! My parted thighs and flexed knees were trembling with a combination of strain and arousal, but I didn't want Aunty to stop. I reached back with both hands and grabbed my shivering bruised buttocks, and wantonly pulled them further apart, opening my boy-pussy wider for her diddling digits with gay abandon. She laughed aloud at my sluttish antics, speeding up her pumping motions with both hands.
"Your Mummy has already bought you some pretty, frilly, big-girl panties for your very own, baby. She's just waiting for you to grow up. You do want to wear pretty, silky-soft panties, don't you, Baby Jennie?" Aunty insisted.
"Yeth Aunty! Oh yeth pweathe!"
"Aunty always knew you were an effeminate little sissy at heart," she murmured confidently, even as her thrilling caresses continued to titillate me front and back. "You always wanted to be a girl, didn't you? Tell Aunty, sweetie," she cooed enticingly, wriggling her four extended fingers all the way inside me and swirling them maddeningly.
"Yeth Aunty! Yeth!" I cried, and then it was happening to me again. My knees buckled, and her whole hand almost slipped inside my greedily dilated anus. Then my sphincter clamped shut and violently squeezed her fingers out, as jolt after jolt of bad baby juice squirted out of my pulsating clittie. I climaxed into the warm wet washer wrapped around my spurting tool as I squealed with unrestrained joy, "I wanna be a widdle girl! I wanna be a widdle baby girl forever!"
I collapsed to my knees in the sloshing warm water when Aunty's supporting fingers were snatched from my clenching pussy. The frothy bubbles rose around the washcloth draped over my erupting clittie, which managed to capture every drop of my creamy outpourings. I gasped for breath in the strawberry-scented air, and when I turned my face to look at Aunty Cath, I found her kneeling back on her heels beside the tub, staring at me in wide-eyed astonishment.
Too embarrassed to hold her confused emerald eyes, I let my gaze drop to the aromatic bubbles around my waist, and discreetly used the soggy washcloth to wipe away any sticky remnants lingering on my shrinking clittie. My panting, ragged gasps for air were the only sound in the echoing tiled bathroom for a minute or two. Aunty remained silent when she removed the bathplug and helped me to my feet, trembling and shaking from the aftershocks of my tumultuous orgasm. The water noisily gurgled down the drain, made louder by the strained silence. Aunty Cath lifted me out of the tub and stood me on a bathmat while she briskly rubbed down my body with a huge pink bath towel. As soon as I was deemed sufficiently dry, she took my hand and silently escorted me into the Nursery, and she lifted me onto the change table on my back. My usual thick nappy was already laid out ready and waiting for me, and in minutes Aunty had me freshly powdered and safely pinned inside my fluffy infantile swaddling.
Aunty didn't bother giving me commands to point my toesies or lift my botty when she slid a pair of translucent pink plastic panties over my bulky nappies and tucked them in. She simply pushed and pulled my legs into the required positions and did everything herself, treating me like a completely useless infant. She remained strangely silent as she dressed me in a new pink gingham sunfrock I hadn't seen before. The wide-flared cotton skirt had three tiers of ruffles similar to my red polka-dot dress, and looked equally as short.
Aunty Cath slipped the same yellow lace-trimmed white socks on my feet from before, and then buckled on my white Maryjane sandals too. She clipped my dummy chain to the lace-edged collar of my sleeveless pink frock before she lifted me down, and then she briskly dusted her hands together to remove any excess powder. She meticulously cleaned the hairbrush and then vigorously brushed my hair dry, in the process tearing out some of my hair by the roots. I bit my lip to stop from crying out, then popped my dummy in my mouth instead
Once my platinum locks were bound in two high fluffy pigtails again, she placed a hand on my shoulder and pressed down. "Down on your hands and knees, little girl," Cath firmly ordered, and I instinctively obeyed. "Little girls who can't stop peeing or pooping in their nappies are just little babies - and little babies crawl in this house, not walk. Isn't that right, Baby Jennie?"
"Yeth Aunty Caff," I mumbled resentfully around my dum-dums in reply, too ashamed to look her in the face.
"Yes, that's right," she heartily agreed, ignoring my sulky tone. "So you can just crawl out to the staircase, and make sure you bump your way downstairs on that big puffy bot-bot like a proper little baby girl should. Go on!" My upturned bulging botty was a perfect target for her broad palm, and she sent me scuttling away on my hands and knees with several crisp loud swats to my plastic-sheathed rear.
I began to understand why toddler frocks were so short. It was so babies didn't trip over the dangling hemline when they were crawling. I suddenly realised that most of my new frocks were that short. Was crawling about to become my permanent mode of locomotion from now on? Behind me, Aunty Cath strode back to the change table, and before she returned my brush to the bathroom drawer, she collected a handful of my fine blonde locks and shoved the wad of hair inside a fresh latex glove. She slipped the folded glove in the pocket of her white denim skirt, shoving it down so it wouldn't be seen.
I shuffled along the carpeted landing to the top step and then sat down. I twisted around on the slippery seat of my pink plastic panties, till my even slipperier leather soles were resting on the next step down. I bumped my way down step-by-step on my poor sore bottom, momentarily grateful for the thick soft padding that cushioned my badly-bruised bumcheeks. When I reached the bottom step and glanced up at the landing, I was relieved that I had obeyed Aunty Cath's stern instructions. She had been observing at my infantile performance from the top of the stairs, and she gave me a tight-lipped smile and a curt nod of approval when I submissively returned to my hands and knees and crawled towards the sunroom.
I hadn't reached the doorway before I heard the front door open behind me. Angelica noisily burst into the foyer, followed by Mummy at a more sedate pace. "We're home! Hey! Why is Baby Jennie crawling?" Angie loudly demanded, as she trotted down the hallway towards me. I was too ashamed to look back over my shoulder at her when Aunty Cath replied for me from the staircase.
"Baby Jennie can't stop pooping or peeing in her nappies like a helpless little baby, so your Mummy and I have decided to treat her more like a helpless little baby - and little babies can't walk around unless someone is safely holding their hand, or holding their baby reins. Helpless little babies have to crawl."
The lack of response from Mummy and my sister made me assume they agreed with both Aunty Cath's harsh assessment, and her choice of punishment for me. I crawled into the sunroom wreathed in misery, sucking noisily on my dum-dums for solace while Aunty Cath asked; "Angie? Would you be a good girl for me, and keep an eye on your baby sister? I have to talk to your Mummy about something for a minute."
Angie skipped into the sunroom after my crawling form and prattled on about her yummy chocolate-chip ice-cream, but I remained isolated in my own little world of misery until I heard Mummy's raised voice from the kitchen. "No!" she exclaimed sharply, and for one hopeful moment, I thought she was objecting to Aunty Cath's ruthless treatment of me. "What on earth?" Mummy demanded incredulously.
But then I heard my domineering Aunty forcefully insist, "I just want to hear you say it, Isabell; that's all!" My ears perked up and I listened more attentively, shaking the cloud of despondency from my mind. But my mother's shrill reply made no sense.
"I swear I never slept with your ex-husband, Catherine! There! Is that good enough?" I recognised the note of warning in my mother's strident tone, and clearly, so did her big sister.
"Alright, Isabell! Alright," Cath responded in a more placating manner. "I'm sorry, okay? It's just that - Oh, never mind. I'm being silly. Look, I have to go. I'll call you later to check on the baby's progress. Okay?" Their voices lowered until the words were indecipherable, then a few minutes later I heard Mummy silently escorting Aunty Cath down the hallway to the front door. I breathed a sigh of relief when I heard the door close behind my fearsome brunette Aunty. With spiteful enjoyment, I wallowed in the delicious hot stream pouring out of my clittie, before it soaked into my thirsty thick nappies.
To be continued in chapter 22.
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Hugs from Baby Jennie
