Synopsis. After being dressed in her pretty pink dress - altered for a crawling baby - Baby Jennie and Angelica return to the Church Nursery. Baby Jennie meets Justine's little sisters, and Aunty Justine has a special surprise for her diapered little baby girl.
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Baby Jennie
Chapter 33. Justine and her Baby Sisters
I didn’t wake until the steel side rail of my crib clanged down in the morning, sounding like a jail cell opening. Someone was rudely prodding my sodden crotch and I grumbled in sleepy irritation. I struggled to sit up, and through hazy eyes I saw Mummy dressed in a mint-green cotton nightie and her short white satin robe, frowning down at me and shaking her head in disappointment. “Oh-oh!” she cried in dismay, but there was a hint of warning in her exasperated tone, too. “I can smell a pooey nappy! Come on, Miss Squishy Britches!” I glanced around the Nursery in my usual morning stupor but nothing out of the ordinary caught my eye. I certainly didn’t notice the worn brown teddy bear sitting on the high wooden shelf above the window, alongside all my other dolls and teddies. Even if I had spotted it, I doubt I would’ve recognised the artfully-concealed ‘nanny-cam’ from Aunty Ellen’s garage.
Mummy picked me up and carried me over to the change table and plonked me on my back on the soft padded, vinyl-covered surface. She unclipped my dummy chain from my bibbie and removed that first, popping it into the change bag lying at the foot of the table. Mummy tugged my floaty yellow babydoll nightie over my head, and thankfully unlocked my pink leather baby mittens. When she peeled the snug mittens from my clenched fists, I slowly tried to straighten my cramped fingers. She ignored my whimpers of pain and ripped down my damp baby panties and tossed them in the nappy bucket. She glared at me in annoyance as she removed the pins and stuck them in the bar of soap, and when she lowered the heavy wet front of my nappy, she frowned in distaste at the stinky mess glued to my bumcheeks.
“What a dirty baby!” Mummy muttered crankily, as she used the soggy yellowed nappy front to scrape most of the sticky brown mess from between my legs. “And thoroughly drenched, too! What a hopeless little baby you are!” I sucked harder on my dum-dums and tried to ignore her quiet grumbling, gazing out the window opposite while she briskly wiped me clean with a handful of cool moist baby wipes. At least it was a beautiful sunny day outside, and the temperature was already pleasantly warm. Even though Mummy kept grizzling, she made short work of cleaning my bottom and between my cheeks, so I knew I couldn’t have been too messy down there. When she finished and disposed of the brown-stained wipes, she stalked into the bathroom to wash her hands. She returned moments later smiling grimly and she lifted me down onto all fours.
In her most condescending baby voice, Mummy ordered, “Crawl into the bathroom and I’ll put you on the potty, Baby Jennie. Go on!” As she followed my shuffling form she muttered mostly to herself; “Not that it will do much good.” She sat me in the low pink chair and buckled me in, and I noticed Angie’s yellow potty was missing from the en-suite bathroom. I realised with a sigh of despair that my clever sister had probably already used her potty this morning like a big girl. Mummy must have taken her pot-pot downstairs to the main bathroom for the day. There was a full baby bottle of green-tinged water on the vanity, and Mummy plucked out my dummy and pressed the spurting nipple to my lips. She held it until I managed to clumsily grasp the sloshing vessel with my numb fingers. She popped my dum-dums in the pocket of her robe and left me alone for about ten or twenty minutes, I guess. I sat there forlornly sucking on the clear silicon teat, waiting to see if anything would come out of my clittie or my bottom. As usual my bladder and bowels had emptied of their own volition into my nappy sometime during the night while I soundly slept, so there was little left to give.
Mummy returned after I had drained my bottle of chlorophyll water, and she took it from me and placed it back on the vanity. She was wearing the baby-pink cotton sundress she had sewn for herself, and I idly wondered if we would be wearing our matching pink frocks today. Mummy merely shook her head in despair at my failure to produce anything in my potty. She grunted in disappointment and released me from the leather restraint, then wiped my bottom and clittie with a warm soapy washcloth. She briskly towelled me dry - all without speaking a word to me. She popped my dummy back in my mouth and carried me out to the change table, lay me on my back, and proceeded to diaper me for the day. The extra-fluffy pink nappies she laid out between my legs were brand-new!
I immediately recognised the bulky terrycloth nappies. These were the ones my pushy Aunty Cath had purchased for me yesterday. They were the same style of contoured nappies my cousin Bonnie secretly liked to wear. Well, not so secretly, now. They had an extra two layers of absorbent material cut in an oval shape sewn into the wide crotch, and I watched in horror as Mummy placed an opened toddler’s disposable diaper between the two thick pink layers as an extra soaker pad. The middle of the nappy looked about four inches thick! I almost expected it when she gathered my ankles in one hand and raised my bum, and she rolled me back onto my shoulders before sliding the arranged nappies into position underneath me.
Mummy had two blue disposable liners ready, and she placed them in the centre of my nappy one-handed, one across the other. She lowered my botty onto the soft fluffy padding and pushed my knees wide apart, and then dusted my shrivelled clittie and wrinkled sack with the sweetly-perfumed powder. Mummy caressed the fine talc over my tum-tum, scrutinising me closely for any inadvertent signs of arousal. Fortunately, I was too overwhelmed by the feel of the bulky new nappies underneath me to be much affected by her intimate caresses. She raised my feet to powder my floppy botty cheeks, and when she finished rubbing it in, she gave my powdery rear one crisp loud spank that made me squeal.
The new nappies were so thick, Mummy had difficulty shoving the 3” steel pins through the bulky layers and clasping them closed. She struggled to stretch my baby-pink nylon-covered rumba panties over the top, too. She left the plastic-lined panties bunched under my bum while she threaded my feet into some sheer white anklet socks with frilly pink lace trim. She neatly rearranged the lace frills around my ankles before she buckled some shiny, baby-pink, patent-leather Maryjanes on my stockinged feet. She lifted me down and ordered me to hold onto the leg of the change table.
Mummy tugged the frill-laden seat of my baby panties over my huge diaper package in the rear, and tucked in the elasticised waistband all the way around. I stood there swaying unsteadily as she shoved me this way and that, amazed at the amount of cloth between my thighs. This was the thickest, bulkiest nappy I’d ever worn! It felt like a soft fluffy brick between my legs, and there was no way I could press my trembling knees together, let alone my wide-splayed thighs. Mummy smiled in heartless satisfaction at my humble downcast appearance, before she disappeared into the walk-in wardrobe. She returned moments later carrying the filmy pink cotton frock she had sewn for me, and held up a swishing chiffon petticoat in her other hand.
Mummy opened wide the fluffy petticoat first and eased it over my head, and then she grabbed my hands and threaded them through the slender shoulder straps. The satin bodice slithered over my slender torso like cool liquid, and my sensitive little nipples instantly grew painfully erect. She made me hold the leg of the change table again while she twisted the frothy chiffon layers into place around my padded hips, and then she lowered the lace-trimmed dress over my head. My head was disconcertingly wrapped in sheer pink cotton for a few moments, and then Mummy put her fingers through one sleeve and grabbed hold of my flailing hand. As she pulled my arm out, my curl-covered head popped free too, and I wobbled alarmingly when she snatched my other hand from the table leg. As soon as she threaded that hand through the appropriate sleeve, she pulled the filmy pink frock down over the rustling pettie and settled it around my wide padded hips.
When she led me stumbling over the mirror to check my appearance, I was shocked! Mummy had shortened the brief frock even more over the last couple of days. Bunched up by my frothy chiffon pettie, the white lace-edged hemline barely covered the waistband of my bulging baby panties. I tugged on the too-short hem, fruitlessly struggling to cover more of my shameful infantile underwear while Mummy gave my bouncing halo of curls a quick brush. When I clumsily turned around to check the rear view, the three frothy white lace rows decorating my bulging tushie were completely exposed, even when I was standing still. Not that I would be doing much standing, as Mummy soon reminded me. She attached the dangling dummy clip to the narrow white, lace-trimmed collar of my floaty pink frock, pointed to the floor and imperiously commanded, “On your hands and knees, baby girl.” When I sulkily dropped to all fours, she continued in that saccharine baby-talk, “You’re too widdle to be walking around by yourself, little one. Remember, Baby Jennie? Helpless widdle babies who can’t stop peeing and pooping in their nappies have to crawl,” she callously reminded me.
I kept my face down so she wouldn’t see the resentment in my eyes. At least my shortened frock and my petties didn’t catch under my knees while I meekly shuffled along the landing carpet on all fours. As I crawled along my bladder chose that time to relax. I wonder why I always seemed to wet myself within minutes of being pinned into a fresh nappy? It had become almost a reflex thing, and for one delicious moment I enjoyed the almost-scalding-hot urine splashing around my hairless genitals. Then I remembered I was supposed to ask for the potty, and I paused to look pleadingly back over my shoulder at Mummy. She pointed an imperious finger at the stairway and sharply ordered, “Get going, baby girl! We’re already running a little late! I don’t have time for your dawdling! And make sure you bump your way down those stairs like a proper little baby,” she insisted with a grim warning scowl. I resentfully crawled towards the stairs and spitefully relaxed my useless straining sphincter. I deliberately strained to pee my nappy as heavily as possible, reveling in the spreading wet warmth.
Angie watched me with a scornful expression while I slowly bumped my way downstairs on my puffy wet bot-bot. I noticed she was wearing her pretty pink cotton dress too, with a similar frothy white petticoat underneath. It looked like we were going out today in our matching ‘Mother-daughter-daughter’ outfits again. Unlike mine, the lacy hemline of Angie’s baby-pink frock completely covered the elasticised frilly cuffs of her matching bloomer panties, falling several inches down her thighs. My bulging lace-lavished rumba panties were totally exposed to the whole world. By the time I reached the bottom step, Mummy came traipsing downstairs in her pink high heels, her glossy pink lipstick in place and smelling sweetly of perfume. She had my pink gingham change bag looped over one shoulder and a pink leather clutch purse in her other hand. She stepped past me and disappeared down the hallway in the direction of the kitchen. I guess I should have been expecting it when she returned moments later carrying my pink leather toddler harness.
Mummy swiftly fed my head and arms through the appropriate loops. She made me bend forward so she could tightly buckle the humiliating harness around my torso. She attached the matching pink leather reins to the front D-rings, and then handed the looped ends to my sister so she could lead me out to the car. It was only when Mummy removed my reins to buckle me into my pink Disney Princess car seat that I realised it was Sunday again and we were on our way to Church. The tight webbing straps pressed the warm wet front of my nappy more snugly against my sensitive little clittie, and I wiggled and rocked about in the sensuously humid warmth. I felt an uncontrollable thrill of arousal when I imagined meeting Justine once more, the gorgeous red-headed carer from the Church Nursery. My little clittie instantly grew hard inside my lovely damp nappy, and I wriggled around in my laid-back seat to give it room to swell. I wanted to caress the growing bulge in the front of my nylon-covered baby panties, but I knew Mummy was keeping a close eye on me in the rear-view mirror these days.
The car park beside the Church was mostly full when we arrived, and Mummy had to park her white Camry a long way from the entrance. When she turned off the engine, Angie deftly undid her own seat belt and she slithered out of her car seat to unlatch the door on her side. I watched her with a jealous scowl, waiting impatiently in my irremovable bonds for Mummy to come and release me. She took her time, fussing about with Angelica’s dress and petties first, then opening the boot. My erection dwindled as I considered how embarrassing it would be to meet the other children in my too-short baby frock. When Mummy finally unlocked and opened my door, she leaned in and frowned at my appearance.
“Oh baby,” she sighed in despair, wiping my drool-covered chin with the ball of her thumb. “My pretty little baby girl is such a dribble-puss,” Mummy complained. She reached into the change bag lying on the floor below my feet, and produced my baby-pink ‘Little Miss Squishy Britches’ bib from earlier. She plucked out my dum-dums and wiped the stream of drool from my messy chin, and then clipped the humiliating item around my neck. “There,” she grunted in satisfaction, as she shifted the dummy clip from the neckline of my frock to the wide lace-trimmed collar of my pink bibbie. I replaced the calming rubber teat in my mouth and began to suck hard without even thinking about it.
Mummy unclipped the pink nylon straps restraining me in the car seat. After she moved the webbing straps aside, she grabbed me under the armpits and lifted me out. I expected to walk the short distance to the Church Nursery, and was shocked when she lowered me into the candy-striped seat of my demeaning pink stroller. Mummy smiled in grim satisfaction at my aghast expression as she buckled me in. My skirts and petties bunched up over my tummy, completely exposing my bulging, nylon-covered panty crotch.
When Angie pleaded to be allowed to push me along, Mummy willingly agreed. “Thank you. Angie. You’re such a good helper with the baby,” she praised my sister, making Angie beam with pleasure. “You are growing up to be such a helpful big girl.” Fortunately, the bitumen car park was mostly level. After Mummy gave the white rubber handles a push to start me off, my grinning sister steered my rolling stroller towards the Nursery entrance. I anxiously bit on my dummy teat as I felt another comforting hot burst in the front of my nappy. This time I didn’t bother trying to halt the lovely soothing flow as it slowly seeped around to warm my genitals and bottom.
Mummy pushed open the heavy oak door bearing the hand-written sign, and helped Angie wheel me inside the Nursery. I could see there were a lot more than a dozen kids this morning playing on the carpet in the brightly sunlit room. Most of them barely gave me a casual disinterested glance. The two little old ladies in charge smiled broadly at the sight of my beaming sister pushing me along in the pink stroller. They gave my mother a welcoming wave when she strode in behind us. My eyes frantically searched the huge crowded room for the beautiful redheaded carer, but Justine was nowhere to be seen. Mummy signed us in and informed the elderly ladies that she would pick up her little girls after the service, and then turned back to us. “Angie, don’t forget to ask one the ladies in charge to take you to the potty if you need to go.” My smiling sister nodded in understanding, and Mummy hugged her warmly and gave her a kiss. “Good girl.” She didn’t bother giving the same reminder to me, and I frowned at the unspoken insult.
At that moment, Justine appeared in the doorway at the far end of the room. I heard her sweet contralto voice call out in greeting; “Hello Mrs R! Hello girls, how are you all?” The voluptuous teenager came trotting towards us on a pair of dainty white strappy sandals with 4” stiletto heels, and I gasped at how attractive she looked. Her waist-length mane of dark red hair was lying loose over her shoulders like a glossy bolt of russet silk. She wore a sleeveless white knitted dress that zipped up the front, hugging her curves like a winning formula-one driver. The shiny brass zipper running from her belly button to her neckline had a large decorative round ring that dangled temptingly from the base of her throat.
I gave a quiet moue of disappointment when I realised I wouldn’t be able to perve on Justine’s fascinating cleavage today. I was easily distracted though by the way her huge bosom visibly swayed and bobbed beneath her snug-fitting outfit as she sashayed through the crowded room. The white knit dress clung to her proud breasts and tiny waist, and there was a narrow belt made from braided strips of pink and white leather draped loosely about her middle. The skirt flared out below the hips, falling demurely to the middle of her lightly-tanned thighs, emphasising her slim muscular calves and the slender ankles below. Her white ankle-strap sandals had matching braided pink and white vamps, and her pretty pink-painted toesies peeped out the front. I noticed Justine wore the same shiny pale-pink nail polish on her perfectly-manicured fingernails, too. I thought she looked the epitome of stunning femininity, and I began drooling heavily at the sight.
I think the first thing Justine noticed while walking through the room was the big pink dummy bobbing in my mouth. Her welcoming smile became a broad condescending grin. “I see you took my advice and bought a dummy for your big baby girl,” she commented to Mummy as she drew closer.
Mummy smiled thinly and nodded in reply. “Good morning, Justine. Yes, my special big baby girl simply adores her dum-dums these days! She can’t seem to get to sleep without it, and she’s become addicted to sucking her dummy during the daytime, too,” Mummy reported, making my cheeks colour with shame - especially since her accusations were true.
Justine stepped in front of me and flipped up the lace-trimmed bottom of my pale-pink bibbie. “I love her matching pink bib, too. It’s so frilly and feminine, and that message…” She laughed gaily when she read the embarrassing legend it bore. I was glad she didn’t read the humiliating words aloud.
“I find it best to leave Baby Jennie’s bibbie clipped around her neck most of the time now. Even when she’s not sucking on her dum-dums, my sissy baby girl has turned into a real little drooler these days.”
“Baby Jennie is such a dribble-puss, Aunty Justine,” Angelica snidely commented from my other side, with a disdainful sniff for my incorrigible baby ways that made me cringe in fresh shame.
Justine crouched down at the foot of my stroller and I watched her fine arched eyebrows climb her forehead in astonishment. Her glossy pink-painted lips broke into a broad smile when she took in my altered feminine appearance. “Oh my goodness, Baby Jennie! Look at you! You look beautiful, darling! Look at those gorgeous curls.” The honest enthusiasm in her voice made my cheeks flush pink again, this time with pleasure. Justine gently patted one of my bouncing platinum curls into place, and then she pushed the hair back over my ears. “You’ve had her ears pierced!” she exclaimed in delight to Mummy, who smiled thinly and nodded in confirmation.
Justine turned back to examine me more closely, and her big brown eyes were wide with wonderment. “Oh baby girl! Look at those beautiful diamond-stud earrings! And look those long lashes framing your big blue eyes. Simply stunning!” She grabbed the plastic chain and plucked out my dummy, and stared in surprise at my recently-tattooed lips. “And your pretty pink lips! They’re so full and puffy… Are you wearing lippy?” Justine gently rubbed my swollen, drool-covered, puffy pink lips with the ball of her thumb, and she looked amazed when she examined her moist thumb and found no hint of stain. She grinned as she scrubbed the excess drool from my chin with my frilly bibbie, then Justine wiped her thumb clean too. “Nope, no lipstick. But your lips look fabulous! I can’t believe how beautiful you look today,” she muttered. When my cheeks turned rosy with pleasure, she giggled. “You even look gorgeous when you blush, you lucky baby girl!” She affectionately patted the warm bulging crotch of my pink rumba panties, and one delicate eyebrow arched questioningly at the familiar wet sound. The gorgeous redhead wiped the bemused expression from her face and stood to face my mother, exclaiming, “I can’t believe how feminine she looks!”
Mummy nodded and replied, “Yes, she’s a pretty little thing, alright. But it’s a shame she can’t manage to keep her panties dry. I only changed her nappy about twenty minutes ago, so she should be all right until I return. But just in case…” Mummy handed my packed pink gingham change bag to the buxom young redhead, and Justine accepted it with an easy grin. “There are two bottles in there for baby, but don’t give her the juice,” Mummy advised. “Give Baby Jennie the green bottle when she gets thirsty, please. Okay Justine?”
“Certainly, Mrs R,” Justine replied, before inquisitively checking the contents of my bulging diaper bag.
“Oh, and one more thing. Seeing as my naughty little girl can’t stop peeing and pooping in her nappies like a silly little baby, I’ve decided she should be treated more like the hopeless infant she obviously wants to be,” Mummy callously informed the grinning redhead. “So Baby Jennie isn’t allowed to walk around unassisted any more. If she’s not being led around by her reins or holding a grown-up’s hand, she has to crawl on all fours. Alright?” Justine’s huge grin almost split her gorgeous face in two, but she stifled a laugh and managed to nod in understanding. “Alright girls, I’ll see you after service,” Mummy said to us, leaning down and giving us both a farewell peck on the cheek. I noticed she was mainly addressing me when she reminded us, “Behave yourselves. Alright girls?”
“Yes Mummy, we will,” we mindlessly chorused in assent, and then she turned and hurried back out through the heavy oak door.
Justine stepped behind me and I felt the tight pink nylon restraints suddenly loosen. “I don’t think we need to keep you locked in your stroller, baby girl,” she tenderly cooed to me, as she moved aside the restrictive webbing straps. I popped my dummy back in my mouth and tried to climb out of the stroller by myself, but with the bulky wet cloth forcing my little legs wide, I couldn’t seem to manage it. Justine giggled and held out her hands to help me, and I gratefully let her tug me to my feet. She looked stunned when she released my hands and I took two clumsy wobbling steps before automatically dropping to my hands and knees. My pink cheeks warmed with fresh embarrassment when my babysitter couldn’t restrain her bright peals of laughter. When she saw my wounded expression, her cackles quietened and she leant her face down close to mine. “Your Mummy’s gone now. Do you still have to crawl, baby?” Justine quietly asked. Her grin broadened when I glanced pointedly at my tattle-tale sister and nodded affirmatively.
As though on cue, Angelica skipped over beside Justine to loudly inform her, “Baby Jennie isn’t allowed to walk around by herself any more, Aunty Justine. She’s too little. She has to crawl.” She abandoned me in the care of the gorgeous redhead to dash off and join a couple of her little friends sitting in the middle of the vast carpeted room. When Angie skipped away the back of her dress and petties flipped up to reveal her pert little bottom. I wondered if Justine noticed my sister was wearing a puffy pink pull-up under her dress this morning, instead of her usual diaper.
“Oh, I see,” Justine sagely replied, as she watched Angie gracefully dance her way past the clumps of playing toddlers. But my babysitter couldn’t wipe the bemused grin off her face when she placed my full change bag on the candy-striped seat of my stroller and plucked out the green filled bottle. She tucked the pink plastic baby bottle under one arm as she clapped her hands and softly ordered, “Well then, you can crawl after me over here, baby girl. I want you to meet someone. Come on, baby, follow Aunty Justine,” she lovingly crooned, talking down to me like I was a real baby girl. I kept my eyes glued on the shapely, lightly-tanned legs and the beautiful swaying bottom leading the way, and I shuffled on all fours past the noisy groups of playing pre-schoolers scattered about the spacious sunny room.
I tried to ignore the puzzled looks I received from some of the older children. I timidly kept my head down as I crawled past them across the worn blue carpet towards the low white plastic table standing in one corner. There were two little redheaded girls sitting at the table, on a couple of the tiny matching white plastic chairs, facing away from us. “Girls! Here is the special big baby girl I was telling you about,” Justine called to them, and the two girls stood and turned to face me. They looked about four or five years old, and bore a strong family resemblance to Justine. “Baby Jennie, these are my little sisters,” Justine introduced us, as she placed my pink baby bottle upright on the low plastic table. The taller little girl scowled at the sight of the full bottle.
While they didn’t possess Justine’s fantastic good looks, both pale-skinned girls were very attractive. Their eyes were almost identical, with huge milk-chocolate irises like their big sister. The girls had similar carrot-coloured, shoulder-length hair, tied up in cute fluffy pigtails with dangly yellow satin ribbons. Both had a scattering of freckles either side of their tiny snub noses. They were wearing matching lemon-yellow cotton frocks, but with different pink and blue embroidered flowers over the bodice. They were in the same Empire-line style as my and Angie’s pink frocks, with soft pleated skirts falling from the high bustline of their dressy outfits. The little redheads were wearing frothy petticoats underneath too, like most of the little girls in the room. Their petties rustled and swished noisily around their hips as they shyly twirled their skirts.
Justine stood behind the slightly taller, chubbier girl and said, “This is Lucy, and this is Danielle.” She moved behind the skinny carrot-top, and Danielle’s pale features broke into a broad grin when Justine placed her hands possessively on the little girl’s shoulders. “Girls, this is Baby Jennie.”
Both girls happily greeted me in trilling high-pitched voices, but Danielle was positively beaming when she waddled closer to stand in front of me in her flat-heeled, gleaming white Maryjanes. I noticed she was wearing the de-rigueur frilly anklet socks too, and hers had elaborate yellow lace trim to match her sweet little outfit. “Hi Baby Jennie,” Danielle cooed, bending down to kiss my cheek in friendly greeting. “You look beautiful! Does your Mummy let you wear make-up? You’re so lucky!”
“I don’t think it’s make-up exactly,” Justine interrupted, with a knowing smirk for me. “Baby Jennie? Can you guess which of my baby sisters is the oldest?”
“Hewwo Wuthy and Danielle,” I politely mumbled around the mouth-filling teat of my dum-dums. I examined the grinning girls closely, and for a moment I suspected they might be twins. Lucy was the taller by a fraction of an inch, and heavier, so naturally I pointed at her. The girls all laughed, and Justine indicated the skinnier, slightly smaller child standing in front of me.
“No, it’s Danielle,” Justine informed me, grinning hugely and standing behind the beaming little redhead. “She’s almost five, and Lucy just turned four. Everybody always makes that mistake.” She glanced around the room before leaning down to whisper conspiratorially to me, “Look, Baby Jennie! Danielle’s a big baby girl - just like you!” She raised the hem of Danielle’s dress in front and bunched up the frothy petticoat underneath. Justine lifted everything high enough so that I could see the beaming little girl was wearing a pair of snug-fitting, transparent yellow plastic panties over a puffy pink disposable diaper. For a moment my heart was filled with envy, and then Justine dropped the frothy petties back into place and smoothed out the front of her sister’s pale-yellow skirts. I wished I was wearing a thin disposable under my baby frock, instead of my monstrously-thick terry nappies. It would have made it so much easier to walk, let alone crawl.
Lucy looked bored with her big sister’s session of ‘show and tell.’ The chubbier girl barely gave me a second glance before she sat back down on one of the little chairs at the low plastic table. She gave my oversized pink baby bottle a quick contemptuous sneer and turned away to chat to the dolls sitting on the other chairs.
“Would you like to join us?” Danielle politely asked me, pointing to her sister Lucy at the table. “We’re having a tea party for our dollies.”
“Not just yet,” Justine answered for me before I could respond. “I want to take Baby Jennie with me into the other room for a few minutes, and show her something,” she glibly explained.
I couldn’t understand why Danielle’s expression suddenly turned crafty. My limp clittie shifted inside the warm wet front of my nappy and I could feel my sensitive little tool mysteriously swelling with excitement again. “We’ll be back in a little, while and then you can have a little play with Baby Jennie. Alright darling?” Justine stepped towards the doorway at the far end of the room and smiled invitingly as she crooked her index finger at me. “Come on, Baby Jennie. Crawl after me, baby girl.”
“Wait!” Danielle pleaded, trotting after Justine to clutch her big sister’s hand. “I’m wet, Juzzy, and I need a change,” the pale-skinned little redhead whined, pouting her lips entreatingly and tugging Justine’s hand.
The buxom teenager sniggered as she bent down to check the sagging crotch of her sister’s disposable diaper. After a quick squeeze, she nodded in agreement. “Uh-huh. I think you deliberately wet yourself, little girl, just so Baby Jennie could watch while I changed you,” she softly accused Danielle, who had the decency to duck her pretty blushing face and look guilty. Justine laughed forgivingly and shook off her embarrassed sister’s tiny hand. “Let me get your change bag, sweetie.” She collected a familiar vinyl-covered pink bag from other side of the low plastic table, and I noticed Danielle’s diaper bag had a pattern of colourful little flowers running in a band across the middle. Justine dropped my baby bottle inside, looped the handles over her shoulder, and then held out her other hand for Danielle to take once more. “Alright, baby girl. Come on, and we’ll change you first.”
I didn’t know what Justine had planned, but I would have followed her perfect heart-shaped bottom to the ends of the earth. When I shuffled after her and Danielle, the warm wet front of my bulky nappy caressed the swollen head of my stiffening clittie, making it even harder. I crawled through the doorway to the tea room shivering with anticipation, and Justine closed the door behind us to give us some privacy. It was a pity the glass-panelled door had no lock, but at least the glass pane was pebbled, preventing anyone outside from clearly seeing inside. The gorgeous redhead grinned back at me as she led Danielle by the hand to the old grey lounge at the far end of the room, standing beside it so she could watch me shuffle around to the front on all fours like a useless infant.
Justine placed the change bag on the carpet beside the lounge and took out a pink cotton, plastic-backed change mat similar to my white one. She opened it and lay it out flat over the worn grey cushions and then patted the crackling mat invitingly. “Come on, Danielle. Up you hop, darling,” she urged her beaming baby sister. The diapered cutie eagerly climbed up onto the sofa and lay back on the rustling pink mat. When she turned to face me, she was grinning hugely and her chocolate-brown eyes were twinkling with mischief.
“Ba-ba!” Danielle excitedly babbled like a cherubic infant, while pointing to her change bag. Justine chuckled and nodded in understanding. “Ba-ba-ba-ba!”
“Okay, sweetie, okay,” she soothed the babbling big baby, and she dipped into the change bag and produced a large toddler’s cherry-teat pacifier with a transparent red guard. I noticed Justine liberally licked the amber rubber nipple and wet the inside of the guard with her spit before popping the dripping dum-dums in her baby sister’s waiting open mouth - just like Mummy did for me. I don’t know why, but my throbbing clittie grew even harder at the erotic sight of Justine’s agile pink tongue wetly slithering over the amber cherry teat of the toddler soother.
“Ba-ba-ba! Mm-mmm! Num-num-numm-mmm,” The pretty little redhead’s excited babbles turned to loud happy humming sounds when she eagerly wrapped her lips around the round rubber nipple and started noisily slurping on her dum-dums.
I drew louder and harder on the teat of my oversized pacifier in sympathy with the sweet little girl who was about to have her diaper changed in front of me. “Num-num-num-num-num-mmm -mmm-mmm,” I burbled.
The buxom teenager smiled down fondly at her busily sucking big baby girls. “Listen to you two! All my babies love to suck their dummies while they’re having their nappies changed,” she commented for my benefit. I knew her words to be true. I found it very soothing to suck on the comforting rubber nipple of my dum-dums whenever anyone changed me.
Justine flipped up the front Danielle’s dress and petticoats over her tummy before softly ordering, “Hold your petties up out of the way like a good little girl, darling. That’s it. Now lift up, baby.” Danielle flexed her skinny little legs and planted the soles of her white patent Maryjanes flat on the change mat in readiness. When she raised her bum, Justine bunched up her dress and petticoats at the back out of harm’s way, and then she tugged down her transparent yellow plastic panties. I noticed Danielle’s wetproof knickers didn’t have pretty lace ruffles decorating the tushie like my frilly pink rumba panties. I thought my nylon-covered baby panties looked much cuter. “Good girl,” Justine muttered, “and down.” As soon as the big baby’s damp padded bot-bot hit the rustling mat, her shod feet flew into the air. Justine grinned as she tugged the baby panties clear of the shiny gold buckles on Danielle’s classic single-strap Maryjanes, and the buxom babysitter tossed the rustling yellow pilchers aside.
Danielle’s skinny legs dropped and she automatically spread her knees wide. She drew her heels up towards the soggy crotch of her puffy pink diaper, assuming the normal relaxed pose of a contented baby having her nappy changed. She grinned cheekily at me from around the transparent red plastic guard of her dum-dums, letting her hands flop back around her shoulders and wriggling her little body in exhilaration. “Ba-ba ga-ga-ga!” she burbled around her dummy teat at me like an excited infant, and I found myself mindlessly babbling back at her in reply.
“Ga-ga goo-goo goo!” I brightly responded, smiling at the naughty memories evoked by repeating the nonsense baby sounds. My stiff clittie grew even harder when I recalled my erotic masturbation session with Connie last night. I discretely thrust my swelling clittie against the wet warmth of my nappies as we noisily sucked harder on our dum-dums. “Num-num-num-num-mmm-mmm-mmm!”
“Aww! Listen to you two,” Justine chuckled indulgently, as she ripped apart the tapes of her sister’s disposable. “What a pair of silly little baby girls,” she gently teased us, “but so adorable!” She peeled down the soggy diaper front and I squealed wordlessly in surprise, my dum-dums tumbling forgotten from my gaping pink mouth. Danielle had a tiny pinkie-sized peenie and a shrivelled pink ball sack dangling between her legs! Danielle was really Daniel! He was a sissy baby girl - like me! Justine turned to me, flashing her Cheshire-cat grin as she playfully insisted, “See? I told you Danielle was a little baby girl just like you, and I meant it!” The sissy boy lying on the change mat kicked his little legs and waved his arms about like an excited infant, delighted laughter bubbling around the guard of his dum-dums at my astonished expression. I clutched at the dummy dangling from my bib, and I unconsciously shoved the soothing rubber teat it in my mouth to calm myself.
Justine proceed to clean her little brother’s limp little genitals with a moist wipe from a familiar slim white plastic tub she drew from Danielle’s change bag. The gorgeous teen’s bemused brown eyes kept glancing my way to assess my reaction. I wondered if she could tell how thrilled I was to find there was another sissy baby just like me, even if she - he - was much younger. The redhead’s grin widened as I unconsciously began to rock my hips faster, rolling backwards and forwards on my hands and knees so I could rub the sensitive tip of my swollen throbbing clittie harder against the warm wed wadding sweetly cocooning my aroused genitals. Justine snickered at my tell-tale masturbatory movements and gave my bobbing damp bottom a few quick teasing swats when she reached for a fresh pink disposable from Danielle’s diaper bag. She chuckled at my helpless dummy-muffled burbled moans of pleasure. Justine opened the crackling disposable diaper and slid it under Danielle’s obligingly-raised rear, and then dusted her sister’s - I mean, her brother’s crotch and bottom with a thick coating of sweetly-perfumed baby powder.
She taped the fresh diaper into place with a minimum of fuss, collected the discarded plastic panties from the floor, and then shook them hard to open them up. “Little footsies in the air, baby girl,” Justine sang to her merrily giggling charge. The big sissy baby eagerly obliged so her sister could tug the crackling yellow baby panties back into place. As soon as she had tucked the snug elastic leg bands safely under the puffy gathered leg holes of the diaper, Justine pulled her petties and dress back down in front, then grabbed Danielle’s tiny hands. “Upsy-daisy,” she cooed to the freshly-diapered sissy. She helped the cute little carrot-top to nimbly jump to her feet. Danielle turned around and held still so her big sister could straighten the back of her dress and petticoats and tidy them up. Then she twirled back around in a rustling mass of chiffon to face me, beaming contentedly.
“Alright, darling, go back outside and play with your sister for a little while,” Justine ordered, and Danielle’s little face fell.
She pleaded, “Can’t I stay here and watch while you-”
“No baby,” Justine interrupted the little girl’s plea with a raised warning finger. “I told you earlier - I need to have a bit of private time to speak to Baby Jennie all by herself. So off you go!” She reached for the red dummy bobbing in the sulky girl’s mouth. “And give me that dummy!”
“No!” Danielle squealed, backing away and defensively covering the dummy in her mouth with one tiny hand.
Justine frowned in warning. “Danielle Louise! You know mum said you weren’t allowed to have a baby pacifier any more! What if one of those old ladies mentions to her that they saw you sucking your dum-dums?”
“No!” The determined little boy/girl emphatically repeated, her expression fierce. “Don’t care!” She backed up to the doorway, spun around in a whirl of flying chiffon ruffles, and grabbed the doorknob. She ripped open the door, dashed outside and slammed it violently behind her, making the old pebbled glass pane rattle alarmingly.
“Ahhh, alone at last,” Justine cooed to me, with a pleased smile that made my pounding heart do flip-flops in my heaving breast. She folded up the unsoiled change mat, dropped it Danielle’s diaper bag, and sat down at the left-hand end of the sagging three-seater couch. The gorgeous teen patted the seat cushion beside her with her right hand in obvious invitation. “Crawl up here and lie down for me, Baby Jennie,” she cooed, and I eagerly obeyed her instructions. Justine smelled delightful as always and I inhaled deeply, filling my nostrils with her fragrant musky perfume. I settled onto my back, my stiff clittie pounding with excitement as she steered my head onto her warm soft lap.
I limply lay back, gazing up into her stunning brown eyes, infatuated. I felt myself falling into those alluring, deep limpid pools. “How old ith Danielle again?” I managed to mumble around the teat of my mouth-filling dum-dums.
“She’s almost five, and Lucy is four. They were born only eleven moths apart. But Danni came a month premature, so she’s always been a tiny, delicate little thing.”
“How long has she-”
Justine seemed to anticipate my questions. “She’s been borrowing Lucy’s dresses ever since she could fit into them - which started when she was just three and Lucy was almost two and a half. Danielle was mostly potty-trained shortly after she turned two, but she seemed jealous of all the attention lavished on her baby sister. After a few dry months, she started wetting the bed again at night. Mum soon got exasperated with her, and handed her over to my care.”
The beautiful redhead smiled indulgently at the memory and shrugged her bare shoulders dismissively. “Mum was busy toilet-training a diapered two-year-old at the time, and I didn’t really mind. When Danni told me she sometimes wanted to wear some of Lucy’s disposable diapers during the daytime, too, I let her. I figured she just wanted to imitate her little sister, and they looked so cute in their matching toddler frocks with their tightly-packed plastic panties poking out underneath.” I shook my head in wonder, trying to imagine growing up with gorgeous Justine as my loving big sister. My throbbing clittie pulsated madly at the thought.
“Lucy soon graduated out of diapers. She was completely potty-trained by the age of two and a half - but Danielle still wanted to wear them. She still needed them at night,” Justine hurried to explain, “but I let her wear them sometimes during the daytime too, as a special treat.” The smiling redhead reached down and flipped up my floaty pink skirt and my frothy chiffon petties over my tummy, leaving my bulging baby panties completely exposed. “But enough about my sisters for the moment,” she deftly changed tack. “Let’s talk about you, my pretty little girl.” She plucked out my dum-dums and I frowned when she laughingly moved it out of my reach.
“So baby girl,” Justine began, trying to suppress her grin - and failing badly. “I noticed your sister Angie isn’t wearing a nappy today.” She paused and looked at me expectantly, waiting patiently until I had to respond.
“Yeth,” I reluctantly agreed, wincing with embarrassment and hoping that was the end of it. But alas, it was not to be.
“But I see you’re still wearing nappies?” Justine dropped my dummy on top of my frilly bibbie and patted my padded crotch with a heavy hand, right over my rampant erection. Despite the pleasant vibrations transmitted through the humid layers of damp cloth, I cringed at the distinct sound her cupped fingers made striking my damp plastic-lined baby panties.
“Yeth,” I dismally replied once more. She smiled at the way I lisped even without my dum-dums in my mouth.
“I thought you were only wearing nappies until your little sister was potty-trained? Wasn’t that the plan?” she quizzed me, looking puzzled. “That’s what you told me.”
“It wath,” I agreed, my cheeks blazing with embarrassment when I had to confess; “Angie ith uthing her potty now wike a big girl, but- but -” I stammered, unwilling to say the words. My fingers unconsciously searched my chest for my dum-dums. I clutched it for emotional support.
“But what, darling?” Justine gently prompted. Her expression turned kind when she added, “Go on, baby girl. Tell me. Tell Aunty Justine what the problem is.”
“I can’t thtop wetting and pooing my nappieth, Aunty Juthtine,” I wailed, and the tears that were never far from the surface suddenly filled my eyes again. “Even when I weally twy, I can’t theem to thtop!” I confessed, and I burst into sobs.
Justine tenderly stroked my trembling platinum curls with her left hand as she cooed down sympathetically at me. “Aww! Don’t cry, sweetie,” Justine crooned. She simultaneously patted my damp nappy crotch with her cupped right fingers in that familiar soothing rhythm, right over my pulsating stiff clittie. ‘Thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack!’ It was all so confusing! I felt painfully embarrassed, yet intoxicated with arousal all at the same time. “Aww, you poor little baby girl! Don’t cry, honey. It’s alright,” Justine reassured me in tender loving tones. “Aunty Justine is here now, and she knows how to make little baby girls like you feel better.” I remembered exactly what Aunty Justine did the last time she looked after me to make me feel better! My tears immediately started to dry up and I sniffled back the snot threatening to clog my nostrils.
The buxom redhead released her grip on my pulsating damp crotch and I sighed in regret. She reached up and grabbed the brass ring dangling at the base of her throat, and slowly lowered the shiny brass zip. The stretchy white knit dress began to gradually peel apart and I frantically batted my long black lashes and wiped the remaining tears from my eyes to clear my blurry vision. Justine sweetly asked, “Do you remember what I told you when you were leaving the Church Nursery last time, Baby Jennie?” I sniffled noisily to clear my runny nose again and nodded. “I told you I would have a special treat for you next time, to make up for the frozen spoon trick. Remember?” she cooed. I clutched the big pink dummy in my fist purely by reflex, but I didn’t bother popping it back in my gaping mouth.
She lowered the decorative brass zipper all the way to her flawless belly button. Her massive bosoms sprang free like a pair of creamy mares released from the starting barrier. Justine was wearing a pretty pink satin bra which struggled to contain her swollen milk-white titties. The bulging pale-pink cups were covered with tiny white polka dots, and there was delicate white lace edging the tops of the cups and the wide supportive shoulder straps. Her pale heaving breasts looked even bigger than I remembered. When Justine reached up to the bottom of the right shoulder strap, her overabundant fleshy globes wobbled hypnotically together to form a deep entrancing cleavage. I watched in fascination as she fiddled with the top of the frill-laden cup.
“I’ll start you on the right nipple first,” Justine muttered mostly to herself. “The other one gets too sensitive too quickly.” She unfastened a white plastic clip and suddenly the whole bra cup folded down, exposing her creamy wobbling breast and leaving it framed by a beautiful triangle of delicate white lace. I had never seen a bra open like this one, and suddenly realised it was a proper maternity brassiere for feeding babies! My stiff clittie swelled even more at the wondrous sight of her bounteous feminine flesh flopping free, and I desperately wanted to reach down and stroke my straining rock-hard erection. I cried out in amazement when I noticed the stiffening pinky-brown nipple was glistening moistly at the tip.
To be continued in chapter 34.
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Baby Jennie.
