Synopsis. Baby Jennie's feminine transformation continues at the hairdressing salon and Bonnie's boss learns she has also been locked in nappies.

Chapter 28. Permanent Solutions.

Sandy sat me in one of the deep padded chairs beside the basins, and when I leaned back, my neck fitted into a smooth curved lip built into the white ceramic bowl. The chatty apprentice brushed out my long platinum locks first, before moistening them with warm squirt from a hand-held shower head. She put on some thin latex gloves, and then combed through some stinky chemical solution. I relaxed my bladder and deliberately wet my damp nappy while she was wetting my hair, and my hot stream soon made my cold clammy diaper feel wonderfully warm again. Sandy began massaging the smelly stuff into my scalp with her fingertips, and I sighed in contentment as my soothing hot pee-pee splashed around my super-sensitive, freshly-shaved genitals, before seeping around to warm my perfectly-hairless bottom. When Sandy finished, Bonnie approached wearing a similar pair of white latex gloves, carrying a tray full of small rollers. There was also a familiar pink baby bottle filled with green-tinged water sitting on the tray, and Bonnie took the full bottle and pressed the nipple to my lips with a malicious smirk.

"You must be thirsty, Baby Jennie," she sang to me like I was her favourite toddler niece. "Why don't you have a suck on your baby bottle, while Sandy and I roll these curlers in your hair? Make sure you finish the whole bottle, baby girl." I accepted the heavy bottle and clutched it with both hands, keeping the teat pressed between my lips as I thirstily gulped down the spearmint-flavoured water. It took ages for them to wind my long hair around the skinny curlers, and they were pinning the last few in place when the rest of the staff began to arrive. Several women appeared in a flurry, and after briefly staring at me sucking on my baby bottle, they dashed into the staff room out the back to hang up their coats and handbags. I knew my cheeks were blazing with embarrassment, but with Bonnie hovering over me, I didn't dare remove the dripping teat from my mouth until my bottle was empty.

I felt grateful when the women merely nodded in greeting as they passed us, without saying a word to me. They changed into their pink smocks and wandered out over the next few minutes, barely speaking to the girls clustered around me at the sink. The staff concentrated on painting on their make-up before the first customers arrived. I was glad I had finished my bottle before the last few employees strolled in, and I tried to conceal the humiliating pink plastic vessel under the arms I kept folded in my lap over my bulging nappies.

One blonde beauty glanced our way between brushing on layers of dark mascara in front of a mirror. "You girls better hurry up and change," the attractive, thirty-something warned Bonnie and Sandy. "Our first client will be here in less than ten minutes, and you girls haven't put your faces on yet."
"Don't worry, Jane," Bonnie carelessly reassured the elegant blonde, who was twisting her long shiny locks into a neat chignon on top of her head. "We've just finished putting the perming solution and rollers in baby's hair. I'm going to put a scarf over the top for the first half-hour, and then pop Baby Jennie under the drier to finish."

As soon as a hot-pink scarf was tied over my head full of damp rollers, Bonnie loudly demanded in cloying tones, "Have you finished your baby bottle already? My goodness, Baby Jennie! What a thirsty baby girl you are!" Her unnecessarily-loud comments drew all eyes in the salon towards my cringing form. I could feel my cheeks burning with shame when she dragged me out to the staff room at the back of the salon. Bonnie seemed pleased the room was empty when we waddled inside. She snatched the empty plastic bottle from my hands and tossed it in my diaper bag. I noticed there was another full baby bottle of green-tinged water in the pink gingham bag, ready and waiting for me.

"Here is the cappuccino machine, and here are the tea things," Bonnie said, pointing at the loaded bench beside the sink. "Make a pot of tea first, and then I'll show you how to make a decent cup of coffee." She took her time instructing me how to use the noisy machine, and I made my cousin a frothy cappuccino while she and Sandy changed into their pink smocks and sorted through their make-up. Because she was so tall, I noticed Bonnie's smock exposed most of her candy-striped shortalls below her hips, and when she turned her back on me, her huge padded bum poked out the rear. Even with her arms lowered, you could see the bulging crotch of her infantile shortalls, but when she raised her arms to sip her coffee, it was obvious to me that she was heavily diapered. "Mmm," she murmured, loudly smacking her lips in appreciation. "Not bad."

I would have taken more pleasure from the fact that Bonnie was about to be hideously embarrassed in front of the customers and staff at the salon where she worked - if I wasn't about to suffer the exact same fate. Things grew even worse after I handed Sandy her freshly-made coffee. She murmured her thanks, and then Bonnie ordered me to stand in front of her. She unfastened the shoulder straps of my pink cotton shortalls, and then tugged them down over my huge diaper package. My cheeks were as pink as my plastic panties when I clumsily stepped out of my shortalls, and then Bonnie ordered me to hold my hands up in the air.

"Here you go, sweetie," she cooed in that sickly-sweet voice of hers. Bonnie lowered a wide-flared, short-sleeved pink smock over my scarf-wrapped head and raised arms. When the brief staff uniform settled softly on my shoulders, I worried how much of my embarrassing infantile underwear was about to be displayed to the world. Fortunately, even the smallest smock was like a short dress on me, and it seemed to cover most of my shiny musk-pink baby panties.

Now that Bonnie felt certain I was competent to use the coffee machine, she pointed to the door to the salon. "Now go back out there and ask all the girls whether they'd like a tea or coffee, and how they want it. It will be your job this morning to look after the staff and clients, whenever they want a hot drink. I want you to be on your best behaviour. Remember to curtsey, and don’t forget - you better try and sound like a proper little girl. Go on! Get out there!" she brutally commanded, her golden eyes glinting. I felt like a fool with my head full of rollers and a bright pink scarf tied over the top like a slovenly housewife. I hesitantly shuffled into the main area of the salon, feeling my cheeks turning pink with embarrassment. My rosy-cheeked reflection bounced back at me from almost every direction, although I felt relieved when I saw most of my shameful plastic panties were concealed from casual view. Only the bottom inch of my droopy panty crotch could be seen, although I knew I wasn't drenched – not yet.

I waddled over to the nearest pink-smocked staff member, and stood beside the titian-haired beauty until she finished painting on her glossy red lipstick. Her shoulder-length hair was the colour of burnished copper, her eyes were huge and wide-spaced, her alabaster complexion perfect. I had no idea how old she was. She could have been anywhere between twenty-five and forty, but I’d have guessed somewhere close to thirty. She carefully rubbed her luscious red lips together, and when her wide green eyes stared inquiringly at my reflection in the mirror, I dropped her a neat curtsey.
"Would you wike tea or coffee, ma'am?" I asked politely, making sure to keep my voice high and child-like.

The gorgeous redhead turned around in her chair and smiled down at me in delight. "Aren't you the charming little thing?" she asked me with a gentle teasing smile. "What's your name again, sweetie?"
"My name ith Baby Jennie," I replied, smiling bravely up at the pale-complexioned beauty.
"Well, Baby Jennie, I'm Trixie. I'll have a flat coffee - white, and one sugar. Madge over there will have the same." She pointed to the dark-haired woman sitting in the chair opposite, who was expertly pencilling in her virtually-absent eyebrows in front of another brightly-lit mirror. She smiled briefly at me and gave me a friendly wave in the mirror, and nodded enthusiastically before brushing on a second coat of jet-black mascara.
"Yeth ma'am," I dutifully responded, and curtsied to both women again. The women beamed at my retreating back in approval as I waddled back to the staff room.

By the time the first client wandered in, I had made cups of tea and coffee for all ten female staff members. Even though I had rollers in my hair and a scarf tied over them, several of the pink-smocked women smiled down at me and told me how cute I looked. A couple of the younger staff members frowned disdainfully at my infantile appearance when I asked them what they wanted to drink, but after receiving their chosen beverage, they had nothing but smiles for me. When the hairdressers and beauticians finished styling their hair and putting on their make-up, they looked beautiful fluttering around in their bright-pink smocks. Even Sandy and Bonnie looked stunning when they were fully made-up, although I noticed several of the older women seemed to be staring at the bulging crotch of my cousin's brief striped shortalls, whenever they poked out underneath her too-short work outfit.

Bonnie unsuccessfully tried to tug down her flared pink smock whenever she checked her hair and make-up in a mirror - which was frequently. The worried girl's fluttering golden eyes looked huge, her complexion perfect, and her generous mouth glistened wetly with glossy pink lipstick. After the first customer's hair had been washed at the basin, and she was seated in front of a mirror with a damp towel draped around her shoulders, Bonnie glared at me and pointed at the seated woman's back. With some forceful head-tilting, she indicated I should ask the client if she wanted a hot drink. While it was one thing to look after the staff who all knew me as Baby Jennie, it was another thing entirely to approach a complete stranger and speak to her. But when I politely curtsied and meekly asked the client if she wanted a tea or coffee, she had nothing but smiles for me.

"Hello cutie," the twenty-something customer greeted me with a broad smile. “Are you having your hair permed, darling?"
"Yeth Ma'am," I replied, my cheeks turning pink with embarrassment.
"I hope you like the results."
"Yeth ma'am," I repeated, before asking again; "How did you want that coffee, ma'am?"
"So pretty and so polite, too! I'll have a milky cappuccino with one sugar, sweetie. Thank you." I curtsied again and toddled off to do her bidding. I tried to ignore Bonnie's sniggers when I waddled past her at the basin. Wherever I turned in the salon, there were multiple mirrors tossing my feminised reflection back at me from every direction, and part of me wished I could wear some make-up, too. I wanted to look beautiful, like all the other pink-smocked girls! I didn't know my wish would soon be granted - permanently!

While Bonnie was busy washing her next client's hair at the basin, Sandy ripped off my head scarf and shoved me backwards into a padded pink chair. She lowered a huge hairdryer on a steel swing arm over my head. A noisy blast of hot air engulfed my head, making me wince, but Sandy merely nodded in satisfaction and walked away. Using the many mirrors scattered about the salon, I kept a wary eye on Bonnie while she waddled about attending to her clients. Several women looked on the verge of asking the buxom, pink-cheeked teenager why she was dressed and walking so strangely, but they somehow managed to restrain their curiosity. Although I noticed that when Bonnie delivered each client to a work station, the first thing the seated customer did was question her hairdresser while glancing back and pointing at the big-bottomed girl toddling away from them. Whatever the staff member told the client, they always looked surprised, and turned to stare in stunned disbelief at my cousin's huge padded rear once more. Bonnie pretended not to notice but I'm sure after a short time, the diapered beauty knew her juvenile outfit and bulging bottom were the talk of the salon.

It was hot, noisy and uncomfortable under the heavy hairdryer, but thirty minutes later when Sandy checked my hair, she smiled and nodded in approval. I was grateful when the searing blast of mechanical wind around my ears finally died away, and I sighed in relief when she raised the huge plastic and steel bowl high out of my way. The smiling blonde teen rolled over a set of shallow trays on a steel wheeled platform, and then began removing the pins and unrolling the many tiny curlers. It took her ages to remove them all, and by the time Sandy started finger-brushing out my thick curly locks, there were a dozen clients sitting around the salon. "Make sure you don't get your hair wet for the rest of the day, baby," Sandy cautioned me, as she teased out the ends of the tight curls with her fingers, and she smiled happily at the results.

I saw Bonnie washing an older woman's hair at the basin, and in the middle of scrubbing the woman's scalp with her fingertips, my buxom cousin tensed up and froze. There was a momentary look of panic on Bonnie's face, and then her facial muscles relaxed and her shoulders drooped in resignation. She slowly returned to massaging the client's head again, but with much less vigour. The diapered teenager looked very distracted, and I recognised her vacant expression and that familiar far-away look in her huge golden eyes. I knew my cousin was peeing in her nappy, and I wondered how much she enjoyed having a warm wet kitten with so many strangers wandering around. I felt certain I knew when she finished wetting, too, because her blank expression abruptly turned guilty and her shifty slitted eyes darted around the salon, checking to see if anyone had noticed anything odd about her behaviour.

I let my eyes drift away before Bonnie glanced in my direction, and I watched Sandy in the mirror as she expertly finished styling my hair with a barrel brush. She then slipped a wide pink plastic Alice band over the front, to keep my tight bouncy curls from flopping in my eyes. "There you go, Baby Jennie!" Sandy cried in delight, helping me to my feet. "Don't you look pretty?"
"Yeth ma'am. Thank you, ma'am," I politely responded. Certainly my new bouncing platinum hairdo made me look younger and more feminine. I looked like Shirley Temple again! I didn't realise it would take months for the curls to grow out, no matter how often I washed my hair.

"Now you walk around to each work station, and ask all our clients if they'd like a tea or coffee. Okay, sweetie?"
"Yeth Thandy," I obediently replied, and she giggled at my childish lisp before leading her next customer to the basin. I waddled over to the nearest seated client and stood beside her, waiting politely like a good little girl until she finished speaking to Trixie, her hairdresser. When they both glanced down at me, I curtsied and said, "Excuthe me, ma'am. Would you wike a tea or coffee?"

The mid-twenties client was sitting in a swivel chair, and she twirled around to smile down at me in delight. "Aren't you adorable?" She turned to her beaming hairdresser to inquire, "Is she the boss's granddaughter?"
"No," replied Trixie, smiling indulgently down at me, "this is Bonnie's little niece, Baby Jennie. She is cute, isn't she? She came in this morning to have her hair permed, and she's helping us out till her mum picks her up. Tell her what you want - she makes a good cuppa."
"I'll have a nice cup of tea, please darling," the smiling client requested. "Milk and two sugars, please?"
I curtsied again and replied, "Yeth ma'am," and toddled off to make it.

As I waddled away, I overheard the client quietly murmur, "Is she wearing a diaper?" When Trixie confirmed I was heavily diapered under my pink smock, she asked, "Isn't she a bit old to be wearing nappies?" I felt my cheeks turning red again, but I didn't glance back at them. I knew the pretty redhead had been present when Bonnie told them about catching me wanking in her cheerleader panties, and then pissing my pants afterwards when she spanked my bottom. I wondered what story the smiling staff member was going to tell her customer. But I had to hurry to the staff room and make the client's tea, and when I returned, there was another thirsty client, then another…

When the boss, Mrs Worth, walked into the salon at ten o’clock, all the staff called out a greeting to her. She was burdened with a large flat cardboard box, and merely smiled around the room and threw a general "Good morning, ladies," to everybody, before disappearing into the staff room.
"Oh good!" One of the staff members cried, "Breakfast is here, girls!" When Mrs Worth returned a few minutes later minus the box, her handbag and jacket, she was cradling a steaming pink mug of coffee and primping her steel-grey coiffure with her free hand. She took a leisurely tour of the salon, stopping at each work station to have a chat with the clients and a word to each staff member. I watched the other girls disappear into the staff room one by one, and when they reappeared, each was munching a flaky buttery croissant. The boss finally strolled over to the basin area, where Bonnie had me washing the mousy-brown hair of a chatty teenage girl, while she scrubbed the long auburn locks of her bored girlfriend at the next basin.

Mrs Worth smiled broadly when she approached us, and Bonnie gave her a nervous smile in return. "I see you brought your little niece in this morning, Bonnie," she commented with a bright smile for me. She leaned down and tilted her head to one side as she ran her sharp grey eyes up and down my body, and I knew she was checking under my smock to make sure I was safely diapered. My cheeks flushed warmly with shame, and I shuffled my tiny feet in embarrassment.

"Yes ma'am," Bonnie responded, trying to conceal her bulky bottom behind the wide porcelain basin. "Baby Jennie came in early with me, and we've already finished her perm. She's helping us out at the moment."
"Very good," the matronly woman purred, reaching over to pat one of my sausage curls back into place. "Your mother phoned me here last night, Bonnie, and told me you needed the next four weeks off. I don't normally allow my apprentices to take off so much time all at once, but your mother assured me these were… exceptional circumstances?"
"Yes ma'am," Bonnie politely responded, but this time her cheeks turned pink under her make-up.

Before her nosy boss could ask any more embarrassing questions, Sandy rushed over to interrupt. "Excuse me, Mrs Worth? Bonnie's mum left a letter for you. The envelope is in the baby's diaper bag."
"Well go and get it for me, Sandy," the older woman ordered, and a minute later Sandy returned clutching two white envelopes.
"There were two envelopes," the blonde apprentice muttered in confusion. "Both are addressed to you, ma'am." She handed them over and then backed away.

I recognised Mummy's handwriting on the second envelope, which Mrs Worth tucked under one arm. She opened the one from Aunty Cath first. Mrs Worth took out the single-page letter and when she opened it, a cheque fluttered to the ground. The steely-haired matron scooped it up so swiftly, I was stunned. I didn't think an old lady could bend down that far or move that fast! Her perfectly-shaped eyebrows rose sharply when she saw the amount of the cheque, and then she read the contents of the letter. Twice she raised her eyes from the page to stare at Bonnie's unusual pear shape.

My cousin's cheeks turned so red, I could almost feel the heat radiating from her face. We had finished washing and conditioning the girls' hair, and another smiling staff member led the two gossiping clients away from the basin to sit at their appropriate stations in front of the mirrors. I watched Bonnie's blushes intensify when her boss signalled her to step out from behind the basin. She waddled out with her chin down and her cheeks flushed scarlet with shame. The watching woman pointed her index finger at the floor and made a slow twirling motion with her fingertip. Gulping with embarrassment, Bonnie obeyed the silent command and slowly turned in a full circle, her face burning when the older woman's piercing grey eyes lingered on her padded crotch and bottom.

"I see," Mrs Worth finally muttered, shaking her head in sad disbelief. "You have been a naughty little girl! Haven't you, Bonnie?"
Bonnie's chin dropped even further and her head bowed in shame. She softly responded, "Yes ma'am."
"Well, I hope your month of punishment teaches you a valuable lesson," her boss frostily declared, as she replaced the letter in the envelope. "I'll call your mother in a few minutes to discuss the rest of her recommendations." She opened the second letter, and after scanning the contents, she turned her attention on me. "Oh Baby Jennie! Of course you want to be a girl, sweetie! Who doesn't?" Her mood brightened considerably as she read further, and she gave me a fond smile. "A Fairy Princess party, hmm? We'll have to make sure you're the prettiest little girl at the party, won't we, darling? Come here to Aunty Eva, Baby Jennie," she sweetly cooed to me like I was a real toddler girl. "Come here, baby, and let me check that nappy."

If any of the clients in the salon had any doubts about what I was wearing under my flounced pink smock, they were instantly removed when Mrs Worth raised the hem of my work outfit up around my shoulders. "Hold your smock out of the way for me, honey," she sang invitingly, and I gulped as my face turned bright red. She pulled aside the tight waistband of my musk-pink plastic panties and slipped her other hand inside, probing the thick front of my warm wet nappy with her long slender fingers.

"Ooo, you're wet, sweetie!" she cried in a loud honeyed tone. I didn't have to look up to realise that every face in the salon had turned in our direction. Now all the women present knew I was not only dressed like a baby, but I behaved like one, too. "But not too wet," Eva Worth amended with a twinkling smile for me, as if she hadn't just heartlessly exposed my humiliating infantile status to every woman in the room. "I'll change your nappy in a little while, precious," she cooed, as though those words were meant to reassure me. She removed her hand from my panties, and I gratefully let my smock front drop. She snatched up my hands as she continued, "We really need to give those nails a manicure and a fresh coat of polish, first." She released my hand and brushed a stray curl away from my forehead. "And I'm sure we can permanently fix those untidy eyebrows, too."

A few minutes later I was reclining in a soft padded pink armchair, and one grinning staff member removed my sneakers and my frilly socks, while another smiling young, pink-smocked girl started removing my chipped, fluorescent-pink nail polish with some stinky solution on a cotton ball. Mrs Worth gave the women detailed instructions, but I only heard her concluding comments. "Her Aunty has paid handsomely for our efforts, so let's give our precious little Princess the best of everything. Alright, ladies?" They efficiently cleaned and manicured my finger and toenails, and then started painting them in the pastel baby-pink colour Mrs Worth had approved for me. I couldn't see what they were doing, though, because another older woman was working on my eyebrows at the same time. The smiling forty-something brunette covered my eyes with one hand and sprayed some of the freezing anaesthetic spray over my plucked brows first, and I felt my forehead go numb. She examined my mouth for a few moments, before commenting, "We need to do those lips, too."

She made me hold a cardboard tube over my mouth, like a roll from the middle of a roll of toilet paper, and ordered me to pucker up. "Don't breathe for a few seconds," she advised, and she delivered a short blast of anaesthetic spray inside the tube, too. It was chilling on my lips, but over the next few minutes, I felt them tingling with pins and needles, and then they went completely numb, too. A minute or two later, she leaned over me and began pencilling in my brows with a noisily humming gun-thing. Despite the numbing spray, it felt like she was pricking me with a tiny needle about a thousand times. Fortunately it didn't hurt too much, and the pain seemed to diminish with each passing minute. I didn't realise she was tattooing beautiful high arched eyebrows amongst the few remaining natural hairs Bonnie had left behind. When she finished, my new, finely-shaped, mid-brown eyebrows gave my baby face a permanent expression of innocent, child-like wonder.

"Here sweetie, put this on," she cooed. She slipped a plastic mask over my eyes, like the one Sandy gave me to cover my lower face. It was full of semi-frozen blue gel, too, but this one had two wide eyeholes. She eased the elastic straps over my bouncing curls until the mask fitted neatly over my eyes. "This will stop your skin swelling up," she reassured me. She didn't tell me it was intended also reduce the small amount of bleeding she had caused with the tattoo gun. Then she went to work on my lips, outlining my natural lip line in a dark pink tint.

I hardly felt a thing, and it didn't feel much different when she filled in between the lines. I grew nervous when she produced a wide-bore syringe full of thick liquid, but she calmed my fears and injected several doses of collagen into strategically-chosen locations around my numb mouth. My lips swelled and grew puffy under the effect of the injections, but again, I couldn't feel a thing. She smiled with satisfaction when she inspected the results of her handiwork. "There!" she cooed, beaming in delight. "What a pretty little girl you are now!" She completed her work on me by gluing on a couple of long black single eyelashes, telling me that a few of mine had broken off and needed to be replaced.

After the girls finished painting a clear top coat over the baby-pink polish on my finger and toenails, they called out, "Susan? We're finished here." The older brunette returned and smiled in approval when she removed my thawing eye mask. I was ordered to sit quietly and not move a muscle for the next twenty minutes. They left me facing a brightly-lit mirror, so I could examine my feminised, infantile reflection at leisure. My pink-tinted lips looked fat and puffy and swollen, like I had been nursing at the teat for hours. My innocent, wide-eyed expression looked constantly astonished, due to my new, darker tattooed eyebrows. I was looking at the attractive visage of a pretty baby-faced little girl.

When I glanced down I saw my musk-pink baby panties puffing out below my short pink smock, which had ridden high up my splayed thighs when I sat down. My nappy was a sodden weight between my thighs now, and I could see glistening drops of moisture inside the crotch of my transparent plastic panties. It was useless trying to cover my embarrassing bulging baby panties with the front of my smock, but I tried anyway. My hands were clumsy because I was trying not to smear my freshly-painted nails. After a few frustrating attempts, I gave up trying to conceal my humiliating wet state and just sat there trying to look beautiful.

After about twenty minutes, the brunette who did my lips and brows strolled over carrying a red icy-pole. Susan held out the strawberry-flavoured ice-block to me and asked with a sly smile, “Would you like a suck on this, sweetie?" I accepted the icy-pole gratefully and immediately started sucking the frozen treat, drawing a smile of approval from the watching woman. "Good girl!" she cooed in approval. "Now don't chew it, sweetie. I want you to suck it and suck it till it's allll gone," she sang to me like I was useless toddler, before she walked away grinning madly. I didn't know the purpose of the ice-block was to stop my recently-punctured lips from swelling and bleeding, too. All I cared about was that I was being allowed to eat a treat without first having one of my shameful baby bibs clipped around my neck. Despite my drenched diapers and juvenile features, I felt so grown-up for a few minutes!

It felt like ages before Mrs Worth came to collect me, although it had probably been a little over an hour. She stepped behind me and reached over my body to crisply pat the crotch of my drooping baby panties. She cried in loud amazement. "Ooo, what a wet baby girl! You are positively saturated, Baby Jennie!" After checking my nails were dry, she helped me clumsily clamber out of the deep padded armchair. She inspected my feminised features with a squeal of delight. "Look how pretty you are now!" My cheeks were crimson with embarrassment when she led me waddling barefoot towards the staffroom out the back, because she kept up a running commentary most of the way.

"Come with Aunty Eva sweetie, and we'll change you out of that wet, wet nappy. My poor little baby girl is practically drowning in pee-pee," she cooed, dragging me along by one hand. "Come along, Miss Squishy Pants, before you leak all over my floor!" I knew that every head in the salon turned to follow my slow shuffling progress out the back. I could feel their eyes burning into the drooping seat of my saturated nappy. "Bonnie, bring the baby's change bag into the laser room, please," the boss requested, but it sounded more like an order to me.

I thought Mrs Worth was taking me to the staff room, but she led me into the room where the girls had performed the laser treatment on me. She lifted me onto my back on the narrow bench and I settled back on the towel-covered padded surface. My body was limp and unresisting when she flipped my smock up over my chest and tugged down my glistening plastic panties. She clucked her tongue in annoyance when she realised I was dripping wet. "Your Mummy wrote me a note telling me you were supposed to ask for the potty when you needed to do your wetties, baby girl," the boss softly reprimanded me as she lowered the saturated front of my nappy. "You used your potty at home this morning like a big girl, didn't you?" I couldn't look her in the face when I nodded in confirmation, my cheeks burning with shame once more.

Bonnie remained meekly silent as she placed my pink gingham change bag on the floor next to the table, and Mrs Worth gave her a curt nod of approval. "We keep a potty here, you know," she informed me, as she scrubbed my damp tummy and flaccid genitals with some moist baby wipes. Fortunately, my limp clittie didn’t react at all. "Some women have to bring their toddlers in with them when they have their hair done, so we keep a potty here for the children to use, just in case." She disposed of the sodden liner in a bin and rolled up the wet cloth nappies, before shoving them into a used plastic shopping bag and dumping them in my change bag. She pointed to one of the wooden doors of the cupboards lining one wall, and flicked her fingers at my cousin. Bonnie opened the indicated door and I saw an old-fashioned, cream porcelain chamber pot sitting on one shelf. It had a fitted china lid, side handles, and a spray of colourful spring blossoms painted on the side.

Eva Worth collected my ankles in one hand and raised my feet high in the air. She rolled me back onto my shoulders, efficiently sliding a fresh prepared diaper under my raised rear at the same time, and then let my clean bottom drop onto the soft fluffy cloth. Her hands were sure and gentle when she caressed the sweet-smelling baby powder into my hairless botty-crease and around my shrivelled clittie and ball sack. "If you need to do another wee-wee or a poo-poo, just ask one of the girls to let you use the potty, sweetheart. Then we’ll take your nappy off and put you on the pot-pot like a big girl. Alright? Otherwise when your Mummy arrives to pick you up at lunchtime, she'll be very cranky with you if she finds you in a wet nappy. Understand, baby?" She was speaking down to me like I was an incompetent two-year-old, but seeing as she had just changed me out of a saturated diaper, I felt I was in no position to argue. I meekly nodded and she smiled brightly at me once more.

Bonnie closed the cupboard and handed her boss a fresh pair of baby-pink plastic panties to tug over my swaddled hips. The other ones were too wet to use again, and I grimaced when I noticed these pale-pink panties had a narrow layer of frilly white lace around the waist and leg bands. As if I needed any help to look more feminine! "There! All done," crooned Mrs Worth as she lifted me down. "Are you hungry, baby?" she asked, and smiled when I nodded. I guess I should have been expecting it, but my cheeks flushed with warmth when she drew out one of my frilly baby bibs from the change bag. "Let's just put this on you first, sweetheart," she sang, clipping the bright-pink terry bibbie around my neck before I had a chance to see what was written across the front. "Now you can have one of these," she cooed, handing me a flaky pastry. I accepted it with a grateful smile and eagerly bit into the rich buttery croissant.

Mrs Worth then turned to my cousin, and she maintained her saccharine baby-talk when she asked; "What about you, Bonnie? Do you need changing, too?" The buxom teen blanched at the unexpected question and tried to back away. The older woman simply stepped forward and reached between Bonnie's helplessly-splayed thighs. She grabbed the front flap of the embarrassed girl's candy-striped shortalls, and with a loud popping noise the crotch pieces separated and flew apart.

My cousin's face turned from white to red in an instant when her drooping pink-and-white plastic panties were revealed to her boss. "Ooo, I love your Strawberry Shortcake baby panties, sweetheart," she teased the poor embarrassed girl. "How wet are you, Bonnie?" Mrs Worth demanded, and the mortified girl spluttered wordlessly in reply. Without waiting for an answer, the older woman pulled the front of Bonnie’s juvenile striped shortalls up around her waist, and dug her other hand inside the tightly-chained waistband of my cousin's puffy plastic panties. “Suck your tum-tums in, baby,” Eva ordered shortly. She felt the front and then her long thin fingers searched lower, probing the thick fluffy padding between Bonnie's legs. "You're damp, but not too wet," she decided, removing her fingers and then stepping over to the sink to wash her hands. "You don’t need changing - yet. Do your shortalls up, baby, and get back to work," she ordered Bonnie in a sharp no-nonsense tone.

Then Mrs Worth turned to me and smiled, her mood lifting. "As for you, Baby Jennie? Have you finished that croissant already?" She laughed when I timidly nodded, and she pointed to the half-full cardboard tray of flaky pastries. "Help yourself if you want another one, but don't be too greedy, sweetie. Good little girls always watch what they eat - and how much. We don’t want to get fat, do we? Then I want you to go out to the front of the salon near the reception desk and sit there quietly for the next half an hour, like the gorgeous little Princess you are. Leave your shoes and socks off for the moment and try not to muck up your pretty nails. Call me or any of the staff if you need to use the potty, though. Okay, sweetie?" When I shyly smiled up at her and silently nodded, she gave me a warm answering smile before striding back out to the main part of the salon.

Bonnie stood there awkwardly bent over, fumbling with the chromed clasps between her legs. When she had the last one snapped closed, she raised her head to glare at me. "Yeah, sweetie," she cooed, cruelly mimicking Mrs Worth's tender tones. "Call any of the girls if you need to use the potty - and they’ll get me to fetch it. Then I'll put it out there, right in the middle of the salon, so everyone can watch while you perform on the potty like the perfect little toddler girl you are!" Was it any wonder that I instantly drenched my clean nappy in fright? Bonnie snatched my full baby bottle from the change bag and threw it at me, but I fumbled the catch and the heavy plastic vessel clattered to the linoleum floor. "Take that with you and get out! Make sure you finish your bottle before your Mummy gets here, baby," my cranky cousin snapped. I bent down and clumsily picked up the bottle of green-tinted water.

Bonnie thrust me ahead of her back into the salon, and I stumbled and almost fell on my face. I clutched my bottle to my breast in the vain hope it would cover whatever embarrassing inscription I knew must be embroidered on my bibbie. I toddled past the numerous seated clients and watching staff with my chin bowed and my cheeks blazing with shame. The reception desk was right at the front of the salon, and I had to shuffle past every work station to get there. I kept my eyes on the cream linoleum tiles around my bare feet, watching my pretty pink toenails glisten in the bright lights, unwilling to raise my mortified gaze lest I meet the bemused eyes of one of the many smiling ladies surrounding me. The beautiful blonde named Jane was sitting behind the desk, and she gave me a friendly smile and a wave when I shyly toddled past. There were two young women sitting in a couple of the chairs around the reception desk. Both of them smiled indulgently at me when I waddled up and plonked myself on one of the half-dozen vacant, pink padded chairs.

"Isn't she cute!" one woman brightly commented.
"She sure is," the other enthusiastically agreed, before leaning over to ask me; "What does that say on your bib, precious?" I could see her reading the message, and she giggled before reading aloud, "Hmm. 'Mummy's Little Nappy Wetter,' eh?" They both sniggered at the humiliating embroidered inscription, making my pink cheeks turn bright red. I shoved the teat of my bottle into my mouth, hoping my hands either side of the heavy vessel would help conceal my rosy-red cheeks.

Fortunately Sandy arrived at that moment, and she asked the grinning girl to accompany her to the basins. The other young woman smiled broadly at my bright red cheeks as I noisily sucked from my baby bottle, but she didn't bother commenting on my infantile appearance or my embarrassing bibbie. She too, was led away before I finished my bottle. I sat there alone for a while, except for the pretty receptionist with the blonde French roll sitting behind the desk. I noticed she kept glancing my way, and whenever she caught my eye she tossed me a wide smile.

Two older ladies walked in next, and after a word with the receptionist, both of them took a seat in the reception area without speaking to me, thank goodness. I kept my gaze averted as I sucked on my bottle and wouldn't meet their eyes, even when I knew that they were staring at me. I could feel their questioning eyes on my bulging panty crotch, but I refused to look their way. I didn't want to suffer any more embarrassment than was absolutely necessary. The phone on the desk rang constantly, and Jane was kept busy making, cancelling, and rearranging appointments. One phone call must have concerned me though, because after speaking quietly into the receiver for a minute, she told the caller to wait. She stepped out from behind the desk and walked towards me, until the gorgeous blonde was standing right in front of me.

Jane smiled down indulgently at me as she asked, "How wet are you, sweetie?" She didn't wait for my reply, and simply leaned down and lifted the hem of my pink smock with one hand. She wormed her fingers under one lacy leg band of my baby-pink plastic panties at the crotch, probing my nappy. Her smile turned condescending and she shook her head when she felt how wet I was, but didn't bother speaking to me. She returned to the desk and picked up the phone, and I heard her report, "She's wet." There was pause before she added, "Yes. Very wet! She'll need changing soon." She listened for another minute, raised her wide blue eyes to glance at my cringing form once more, and then responded, "Certainly, Mrs Ryan. We'll see you shortly."

I didn't notice the well-dressed young man stroll in a few minutes later and approach the desk. After speaking to the receptionist, he turned around to stare at me. "Wait a minute and I'll fetch Mrs Worth," Jane told him, and then she scurried off to locate her boss.
Mrs Worth bustled over a short time later crying, "Nigel! Nigel sweetie! How are you, darling? Come here and give Mummy a kiss." She held out her arms and nearly swept the poor man off his feet.

The slender blond chap in the charcoal-grey slacks returned her hug and fondly kissed her cheek, asking, "How are you, mum?"
"All the better for seeing you, my darling." Her happy smile turned to an exaggerated pout when she complained, "You never come and see me any more!"
"Mum, I was over at your place for dinner only two weeks ago," he gently reprimanded her, as he extricated himself from her grasp. He straightened his tailored navy jacket over his broad shoulders and shook his head at his mother's manipulating ways.

"It seems more like two months to me," Mrs Worth sulked, pouting like a disappointed child.
"Oh mum, stop it," he insisted, but the way he smiled told me this was a familiar bone of contention between them. He turned to glance my way again and I noticed he had deep-set, piercing grey eyes, the same odd colour as his mother's. "Is this the child you were telling me about?" When she nodded in reply and turned to look down at me, he stepped closer to me until I had to look up to see his handsome smiling face.

He stared intently at me for so long, I could feel myself blushing again. The rising pink tinge in my cheeks only made his smile broaden, and I noticed his large, even white teeth. "You're right, mum. She is gorgeous," he commented, which only made my blushes intensify. "And look how prettily she blushes, too!" He laughed, but it wasn't an unkind sound. He crouched down in front of me so that he was actually looking up into my face. "I see you've just done her lips and eyebrows," he observed. "Very pretty. What's her name?" Nigel asked, as if I was incapable of responding for myself.

"Her name is Baby Jennie," his mother replied, and he chuckled quietly when his intelligent grey eyes dropped to encompass my humiliating infantile underwear.
"Well, Baby Jennie?" he asked, flipping up the lacy bottom of my tell-tale pink bib. "How would you feel about doing some modelling for me?" I gasped at the unexpected question and my mouth dropped open in shock. Before I could formulate a reply, my Mummy and Aunty Cath strode up to the salon entrance. Mummy was wheeling an empty pink stroller!

Aunty Cath stepped inside the salon in her towering black platform boots, while Mummy parked the oversized toddler stroller outside the door. As soon as Mrs. Worth spotted my Aunty, she turned and called out, "Bonnie? Bonnie, your mother is here to pick you up." When Mummy walked into the salon, Mrs Worth rushed over to greet her. "Mrs Ryan! How good to see you again," she gushed. Mummy was wearing a similar outfit to my Aunty, consisting of a brown leather mini-skirt that showed off her long supple legs, and some knee-high brown platform boots with a narrow five-inch heel. The simple white satin blouse buttoned over her generous bosom added a softening hint of elegance to her otherwise dominant appearance.

The salon boss turned to indicate the tall blond man with a sweeping gesture. "This is my son, Nigel. He runs a modelling agency in the city, and I asked him to come in and take a look at your gorgeous little girl."
"She certainly does look gorgeous," Mummy agreed, waving to me and making my tentative smile grow wider. "But unfortunately, your receptionist told me she is also a very wet little girl." That comment wiped the smile from my face. She shook hands with Nigel, and the three adults stepped over to the reception desk to have a quiet conversation about me.

Meanwhile Aunty Cath was impatiently tapping the platform toe of one menacing black boot against the floor, waiting for her daughter to arrive. When Bonnie waddled over looking hot and flustered, her mother grimaced at the diapered teen's unavoidable wide-legged gait. "There you are, baby," she cooed to her youngest, in honeyed tones that made the poor girl blush immediately.

"Hello Mummy," Bonnie politely greeted her mother, her face downcast and her tone subdued. "I've just finished work," she reported in a dull monotone, as she reluctantly removed her pink smock.
"Good. Come here, baby." Aunty Cath waved her closer with an imperious gesture. "How wet are you, Bonnie? Come here to Mummy and let me check your nappy." Aunty Cath made no effort to lower her voice or moderate her tone. I felt sure every single person in the salon heard the embarrassing question.

There were two new customers sitting in the reception area waiting their turn at the basin. Both young women raised their faces from the magazines they were browsing at the odd exchange. Bonnie's face went so red, you could have used her as a stop light. I felt grateful I wasn't the one being publicly shamed as Aunty Cath brusquely ordered the cringing teen to stand in front of her with her legs further apart. Bonnie looked like she knew what was about to happen, but she was powerless to stop it. She obediently spread her feet and bent her knees slightly as her mother reached down between her plump brown thighs. Cath ripped open the crotch pieces of her daughter's juvenile candy-striped shortalls, and her sagging Strawberry Shortcake baby panties were exposed for all the world to see. I turned to glance at the watching young women sitting next to me. Their eyes were almost bulging out of their heads.

Bonnie looked like she was about to die of shame, but things were about to get much worse for my overbearing cousin. "Turn around, Baby Bonnie," Cath crisply ordered. When the humiliated girl clumsily twirled around, my Aunt held up a jingling set of keys. "Here, baby, let Mummy unlock your plastic panties, " she cooed, acting like her daughter was only two years old, not seventeen. She fumbled with the tiny brass padlock for a few moments, and the whole salon heard the loud 'snick' as the mechanism parted. Aunty Cath dropped the lock and keys in her handbag, and then grabbed Bonnie's padded hips and turned her around.

When they were face-to-face, Cath commanded, "Hold the front of your shortalls up out of the way for Mummy, sweetie." She pushed both hands inside the waistband of Bonnie's Strawberry Shortcake baby panties and wriggled them about to loosen the chain. When she figured there was enough room, the callous brunette leaned down and plunged one hand deep inside the puffy pink-and-white plastic pants, and she forced her fingers between Bonnie's splayed thighs. "Ooo, what a wet baby girl!" Cath loudly announced, as she probed the mortified teen's nappy crotch. "Mummy will need to change your nappy very soon, baby." Bonnie had her eyes closed at this point, although from the expression on her fiery red face, I knew she could tell that everybody in the salon was watching her humiliation.

The adults at the reception desk had obviously finished their discussion because the next thing I knew, Mummy was slipping my shoes and socks on. She helped me to my feet and took my empty pink bottle from my hands. She didn't bother asking if I was wet, and simply slipped her hand inside the waistband of my baby panties and probed my nappy crotch, exactly as Aunty Cath had done with Bonnie. Mummy’s face fell with disappointment and my cheeks coloured with fresh shame. "Oh baby," Mummy muttered disconsolately, and my pink cheeks turned a darker shade at the reproval in her tone. "Why didn't you ask for the potty?" I simply shrugged my shoulders by way of reply, and she shook her head in despair. "Where are your shortalls, baby?" Mummy inquired.
"In my diaper bag," I squeaked through a throat tight with shame.
"What was that?" Cath demanded, as she finished clipping the crotch of her daughter's shortalls together.

Mrs Worth called out to Sandy to bring out my diaper bag, and Cath stepped over to where I was cowering beside my mother. She examined my pink smock and my exposed baby panties as she asked, "Why aren't you wearing your shortalls, Baby Jennie?"
"Bonnie made me take them off," I nervously replied.
My Aunty turned to stare at her crimson-faced daughter, and she frowned darkly and shook her head. "You'll never learn, will you Bonnie?"

Sandy rushed over with my baby bag, and Mummy looked even more disappointed when she spotted the wet nappy wrapped inside the plastic shopping bag sitting on top of my shortalls. She poked the soggy lump inside the transparent white plastic bag and turned to confront me. "Two wet nappies already?" Mummy demanded in irritation, as she pulled out my pink shortalls from underneath. I was too embarrassed to reply and simply bowed my head in shame.

Mummy took hold of the hem of my pink smock and I raised my arms so she could undress me. Forget the watching women in the salon; I was standing there in full view of the busy carpark, dressed in only my pink sneakers, my frilly anklet socks, my short white t-shirt and my bulging baby-pink plastic panties. The were dozens of people wandering past the salon on their way to the mall, and most turned to peer in at the big sissy baby being undressed a few feet inside the doorway. “Oh Baby Jennie! What a hopeless big baby you are," Mummy loudly scolded me. After my head popped free of the smock, I kept my humiliated gaze on the linoleum tiles at me feet and simply nodded in shame-faced agreement.

"I don't think you're even trying," Mummy snorted crankily, shaking her head and frowning in disappointment. She opened the shortalls wide and held them down for me to step into, and I grabbed her arm to stop from tumbling over. "And after you performed so well on the potty this morning, too," she chided me, as she fastened the bib front to the shoulder straps. Either she was unaware just how much her words embarrassed me - or she simply didn’t care. She left my humiliating pink bibbie clipped around my neck, and slid it free of the high bib front of my shortalls and smoothed it over my trembling breast.

"Come on then, Baby Jennie," she ordered, taking my hand and leading me outside. On the footpath she turned me around and made me waddle backwards, until my calves hit the front edge of the stroller seat. Then she lifted me in to the humiliating child carrier. "Mummy warned you what would happen if you didn't try to stay dry, little girl."

To be continued in chapter 29
A little feedback would be appreciated. Please?
Baby Jennie