Jennie's Potty-training by Baby Jennie

Please note: this story is very loosely adapted from an old tale called 'Potty Training' by Mo, which I read decades ago (probably on Bytemine BBS.) Although I loved the concepts introduced by the original author, I feel he regrettably skipped over some of the most exciting and dramatic parts of the 'victim's' enforced sissification and infantilisation. I have re-written what was a 14-page short story into a novel of over 500 pages, altered to suit my own twisted 'dominated, diapered and petticoated' fantasies.

Warning! This is an extreme adult-baby FANTASY, containing graphic descriptions of teen play, female domination, forced babying and cross-dressing, lesbian/gay interaction, corporal punishment, mild incest, urolagnia, coprophilia, and explicit nappy contents. If those sorts of thing offend, please don't read any further. If any of those things float your boat too, I hope this makes you wet your nappy again and again and again!
Hugs from Baby Jennie in Australia

Chapter 1. The Beginning

I can't believe I am sitting strapped to a potty-chair in the middle of the bathroom! Sitting right next to me is an empty yellow potty-chair belonging to my little sister Angelica, who is just over three years old. I've been perched on my pink potty for at least fifteen or twenty minutes, impatiently waiting for Mummy to return and release me. There is a tight pink leather restraining strap around my waist, so I can't stand up until Mummy unfastens the buckle at the back of the chair, well out of my limited reach. My thick wet terry nappies and pink vinyl panties are bunched in a humiliating pile around my ankles. I should mention that my name is Jeremy, and I am thirteen years old! I don't know how long I will take to be potty-trained this time. Angie - which is what everybody calls Angelica - and I have been 'potty-training' for three days now.

This whole mess started on Friday a little over two weeks ago, when Mum and Dad decided that Angie was old enough to begin potty-training. My sister is a very independent-minded little girl, and she really didn't want to give up the comfort and security of her nappies. After much persuasion and some tears, Mum finally talked Angie into sitting on her new, bright-yellow potty-chair. In minutes she was ready to hop up and play, since she had no clear idea what she was supposed to be doing there. Because she was strapped into her potty-chair she couldn't stand up, so she started loudly crying. With some cajoling and soothing talk, Mum was just starting to quieten my sister down again, patiently trying to explain to Angie that she should 'make tinkles' in her potty.

I had been outside in the back yard playing with my second-best friend, Michael from next door. It was the start of our summer vacation. My best friend Sally is only six months older than me, and lived in the house behind ours with her much younger sister - but their family was away on vacation for two weeks. Sally and I attended the same junior school, and we’d been in the same class ever since first grade. At the beginning of this year we started at different high schools, but we remained best friends. Even though my skinny mate Michael is three years younger than me, he was a good few inches taller, and we've always been close friends, too. We were tossing a ball in the back yard when I belatedly realised my bladder was full. I grabbed the head of my peenie through my cotton shorts and ran for the toilet. Michael started laughing at the tell-tale grip I had on my crotch, and his cobalt-blue eyes sparkled with mischief when he yelled after me; "Run! Don't wet your pants again, Jeremy!"

I urgently scurried inside the house to do a wee. I dashed into the downstairs bathroom to find Mum hovering over a disconsolate Angie, still unhappily bound on her tiny potty-chair. The scene caught me by surprise, and I started giggling uncontrollably as I struggled to pull my dribbling peenie out of my tight shorts and undies. With a start I realised some wee-wee had already started to leak out, and a tell-tale warm wet spot had formed on the front of my khaki shorts. I finally managed to free my trickling tool and with an audible sigh of relief, relaxed my bladder to let my stream splash noisily into the toilet. To distract Mum from the obvious wet spot on my shorts, I called my sister "Potty Princess" and some other silly names. Needless to say that really set Angie to screaming and crying again, and there was nothing our Mum could do to make her stop.

Finally exasperated with both of us, Mum gave up with a loud sigh of despair. She unbuckled Angie from her hated potty-chair while I finished peeing in the toilet. She taped a clean disposable diaper safely back in place around Angie's bum and carried my pouting baby sister out of the bathroom, sending her toddling into the lounge room with a crisp swat on the butt. In a cross voice, she ordered me to wait in the kitchen for her when I had finished washing my hands. Minutes later Mum stormed into the kitchen, her olive-green eyes blazing.

"Well, my little lad! You have really done it this time! I had the devil of a time convincing Angie to try out her new potty-chair! Now you've made it damn-nigh impossible! I'm sure she will never willingly try again. Just wait until your father comes home tonight. You are going to be one sorry little boy, I can promise you that!"

I saw her angry green eyes drop to the front of my khaki shorts and her delicate arched eyebrows rose another notch. "Have you wet your pants again?" she snarled in annoyance, her long blonde ponytail flicking like the tail of a fractious horse. "Really, Jeremy! Sometimes I think you're the one who needs potty-training, not your baby sister!" She pointed her finger in the direction of the hallway and fumed, "Go up to your room right now and change out of those wet pants immediately, and dump your dirty shorts in the laundry hamper downstairs." She looked thoughtful for a moment, and then wagged her finger at me in warning. "And don't you shove your stinky wet underpants under the bed this time," she cautioned me. "Last time I didn't find them for days, and your bedroom reeked of stale urine all week."

I knew I was in big trouble, since I hadn't seen Mum this furious in ages. I wasn't looking forward to Dad coming home, since I was pretty sure I could anticipate the belting of a lifetime. I hadn't been spanked in months, but when it happened, it was really painful. When I changed my damp pants and underwear in my bedroom, I put on my thickest cotton undies and a pair of heavy denim shorts I hoped might protect my bottom. The rest of the afternoon dragged slowly by, with Mum and Angie barely speaking to me. Around six that evening Dad returned home. Before he wandered in to say hello as usual, Mum quickly drew him aside to inform him of my misdeeds. They remained in the kitchen talking in muted voices for ages! On my way to the toilet, I tried to linger within earshot in the hallway. I worried, 'How long does it take to explain what happened?'

When I felt the first hot trickle leaking out of me, I grabbed the end of my peenie through my thick shorts and squeezed the head painfully hard, belatedly cutting off the flow. I realised I couldn't hold it any longer, and sprinted as quietly as I could to the downstairs bathroom, actually whimpering with the need to let go. After I emptied my bladder into the toilet, I flicked my long blonde hair back over my shoulders and carefully checked my pants for pee stains. The wet patch on my thick white undies wasn't too bad, and the damp spot on the front of my blue shorts was miniscule. I felt sure my minor accident would pass unnoticed, and I skulked silently back to the lounge room where I had been watching TV. I was expecting Dad to storm in, snap off the blaring television and start yelling at me, and then drag me over his lap. I was really surprised when he walked into the lounge room rather calmly and quietly instructed me to turn off the TV, announcing, "Jeremy? We need to have a serious talk."

It was obvious he was extremely annoyed, but his grim controlled demeanour frightened me much more than his normal yelling. He started to carefully explain; "You should know how difficult it is to potty-train toddlers, Jeremy. You weren't fully potty-trained till you were six or seven, and even now your mother has her doubts about how successful we were. You remember how difficult life was for you, when you wet your pants in junior school? Your mother and I feel Angie is already passing the right age to start toilet-training. But instead of helping us, you have made this task really difficult; what with your laughing at Angie and mocking her efforts.” He shook his head in despair and I ducked away from his sorrowful stare.

“You've had your fun, and now you are going to help us with her potty-training,” Dad continued. “We feel the best way for you to help is by setting an example! Therefore, beginning tonight - like Angelica - you will start wearing nappies - and using them! The bathroom will be off-limits to you, except for bath times - which your Mother will be giving you, by the way. After two weeks of wearing and using nappies full-time, we will once again try to start potty-training Angie - and you! We hope that when Angie sees you being potty-trained, she will try to copy you and more easily accept it herself. You will be kept in nappies until Angie is fully potty-trained. Understand? You just better hope that your sister is completely toilet-trained before school starts in February."

My mouth gaped open in shock. I couldn't believe my ears! A hard spanking would have been preferable to this. But what could I do? I could end up wearing nappies all summer - or even longer! After a rather subdued dinner, the whole family climbed into Dad's silver Ford and we headed for the nearby shopping centre. We entered a huge store at the far end of the mall called, 'Johnson & Johnson Medical Supplies.'
Mum dragged me along by the hand towards a pretty female clerk standing behind the counter. “Good evening, Madam,” the clerk said, “my name is Melanie. Can I help you with anything?”
"I hope so, Melanie. Do you stock nappies and plastic panties that would fit my teenage son Jeremy here?" Mum asked the smiling buxom woman in a loud clear voice. I wished I could have melted into the floor, I was so embarrassed! I'm sure my cheeks turned bright red as the woman's placid professional smile froze in place.

The sales clerk, an attractive mid-twenties brunette, first eyed me up and down speculatively, and then smiled cheerily at my statuesque blonde mother before she responded. "No problem! We have a variety of nappies and other diaper supplies for incontinent youths. Is your little boy a bed-wetter?" I couldn't believe it. This was going from bad to worse!
"Not recently, although he does have a problem keeping his pants dry, sometimes. No, my little Jeremy here has just 'volunteered' to help us potty-train our diapered youngest Angie, by setting a good example. That's Angie with her father, over by the entrance." The shop assistant's full rosy cheeks stretched tautly as her smile widened, her dark eyes flashing merrily.

"Oh! I see. Would you prefer your little Jeremy dressed in cloth nappies or disposable diapers?" Melanie inquired.
Mum considered the choice for less than a second before replying firmly, "Cloth nappies!" We were led to the aisle where the cloth nappies were stacked, most in big bundles of twelve wrapped in clear plastic. After an experienced calculating glance at my hips, the clerk picked up two large packages with a dozen contoured white terry towelling nappies in each, along with some packets of large stainless-steel safety pins. Mum took the chosen pins from her hand and frowned, shaking her head as she rejected them. Unseen by me, she swapped them for some packets of extra-large, 'baby-proof, safety-lock,' pink-headed nappy pins!

The saleswoman smiled broadly at my mother's choice and nodded in sudden understanding. She loudly suggested; "Your big baby should try on his new nappies at once, just to make sure they fit." Mum firmly agreed, much to my dismay.
"No way!" I objected indignantly. Then Dad marched over carrying Angie in his arms, and gave me 'the look.' I knew I was dead meat if I protested any further. I reluctantly followed Mum and the grinning clerk into a rear 'changing-room' while Dad remained outside with my sister.

The spacious change room was unlike any I remembered from other clothing stores. Instead of a seat to sit on, there was a high wooden bench supporting a thin brown, vinyl-covered mattress. The bemused clerk crisply ordered me to take off all my clothes and hop up onto the baby change table!

I looked up at Mum with pleading eyes, but found no sympathy in her cool dispassionate gaze. Slowly I stripped off my t-shirt and ratty old sandshoes, my cheeks flushing warmly. I pulled down my heavy denim shorts and removed my socks, leaving me standing in only my pee-stained, thick white underpants. Again I hoped for a reprieve from Mum, but she was waiting impatiently for me to finish undressing, her frown deepening when she spied the fresh damp spots on the front of my old white underpants. Slowly and unwillingly I removed my undies, and then Mum snatched the garment from my hands.

She disdainfully pointed out to the saleswoman the shameful still-wet yellow spots, in addition to the many overlapping old pee stains. The attractive brunette shop assistant snorted in disgust and agreed, "Clearly, nappies are the correct choice for a hopeless pants-wetter like him." To me she snapped, “Up you hop!” Naked and acutely embarrassed, I jumped up onto the vinyl-covered mattress and defensively covered my crotch with my cupped hands. The bench was fairly high but I clambered up pretty easily, and sat there watching the women suspiciously. The clerk instructed me to lie down on my back, which I did.

The smirking saleslady opened one of the packages of terrycloth nappies and turned to Mum. "I will be glad to show you how we recommend diapering bigger children. I’m sure you're used to doing it for babies and toddlers, but older wetters require some special techniques." She held up one of the thick, white, hourglass-shaped nappies to display to my mother. "These are the best, cheapest, plain cotton contoured nappies we stock for older wetters. They are made from two layers of fluffy, double-sided terry towelling sewn together, and are very absorbent. How many nappies do you want to use at a time?"
"It's important that our Angie can readily see that our Jeremy is actually wearing nappies, so they should be very thick! How about two nappies to start with?" Mum suggested. The clerk selected two of the huge cloth nappies and proceeded to arrange them together. She sang to me to lift my botty high in the air, and then slid the bunched nappies together under my elevated rear.

The smirking brunette shot me an odd questioning look, and then turned to my mother again. "Will little Jeremy be making poopies in his nappies, too?" Melanie asked. Her toothy mile seemed shark-like.
"Since he will be wearing them all the time, I would say most definitely!" Mum tartly responded. My mouth fell open in horror at this unexpected revelation.
"In that case, I have a great product for you." The grinning saleswoman left the changing room leaving me lying beside my mother, naked and shame-faced on top of the soft pile of fluffy nappies. They felt at least two inches thick under my trembling bottom.

I hadn't even thought of messing in the nappies! My blushes intensified when I realised this added a whole new humiliating dimension to my already-embarrassing predicament. Mum stood by gripping my shoulder tightly and smiling resolutely down at me, as if to remind me that she was in complete control.

The sales clerk returned in a few moments with a plastic package she held out for Mum's inspection, saying, "These are flushable, disposable nappy-liners. They will prevent most of your child's messy faeces from coming in contact with the cloth nappies, but still let baby's urine pass through. In addition to being safe to flush down the toilet, they also have a moisture barrier, so they help prevent nappy rash. We wouldn't want your little Jeremy here to suffer from a nasty diaper rash, would we?" She grinned down maliciously at my obvious writhing discomfort. "When your big baby messes in his nappies, not only will cleaning him up be simpler, but washing his soiled nappies will be easier, too."

"That sounds wonderful! We'll take a package of the disposable liners as well," Mum insisted, nodding eagerly in agreement. The smug self-satisfied clerk then slit open the plastic package and pulled out some of the disposable blue fabric liners. She instructed me to lift my botty again, and she positioned two rectangular liners in the centre on top of the pile of nappies. With the cloth nappies and liners in place, she reached for a bottle of baby oil and smoothed it all over my hairless crotch and bottom. This was followed by a generous amount of talcum powder sprinkled liberally about, including on my bottom, stomach, groin and thighs. When she rubbed it in, all of a sudden I really smelled like a baby!

The front flap was then pulled up snugly between my legs, and the saleslady showed my Mum how to pull the bottom edges right up into the crease of my groin. She pinned one side closed with one pink-capped pin, then drew the other rear flap over my tummy as far around as possible. Once again she demonstrated how she pushed the crotch of the bulky nappy right into the junction of my legs, and then she pinned the second flap tightly in place with two of the big pink pins. She then unfastened the pin in the first flap, and drew that side even tighter as well. She pinned the first flap around my waist with two pink pins as well, explaining; "These large cloth diapers have to be double-pinned extra-tight on bigger babies like your Jeremy, otherwise they might loosen and slip down when your bigger wetter saturates his nappy." With two of the fluffy cloth nappies pinned snugly around my hips, I couldn't believe how thick the crotch section felt bunched between my thighs.

"There, all diapered! See how easy it is?" My mother nodded in understanding, smiling thinly in contempt at the infantile picture I presented. She then tugged on the front of my snug nappy, to check for herself how tightly it was pinned. Melanie cooed, "Now you wait here, Jeremy, and your Mummy and I will find you some lovely wetproof baby panties to wear over your new nappies." Chatting brightly to each other like old friends, Mum and Melanie left the changing room, leaving me alone on the padded table in a state of shock. Here I was lying on a baby changing table pinned into some thick cloth nappies, knowing that this was only the beginning! A few minutes later the women returned, both clutching a handful of waterproof panties, all in feminine colours and styles, it seemed to me.

For one awful moment, I wondered if Mum knew I had been secretly trying on her sexy nylon panties and silky slips over the past six months. There was also that terrible occasion a month or so ago, when my buxom older teen cousin caught me trying on her recently-discarded cheerleader panties. But I knew Bonnie hadn't seen Mum since then to tell her what I'd done, so I felt pretty sure my secret was safe. And the few discrete occasions I'd dressed up in a tutu at my girlfriend-next-door Sally's house with her and her kid sister, were all in plain fun. That was ages ago, anyway. Although over the past months, I’d regularly been borrowing Mum's silkiest, recently-worn panties from the laundry hamper, to secretly wear in bed at night under my pyjamas. I loved the way the smooth material caressed my hard sensitive peenie when I pulled the silky knickers high over my hips.

Mum's smallest panties were way too large on me of course - although some of the stretchy satin ones felt quite snug around my little bottom cheeks. At least they didn’t fall down when I modelled them in front of the mirror. Her heavy nylon half-slips fell almost to the floor from my narrow shoulders, like gorgeous, full-length, satin evening dresses. I dressed in Mum’s underwear at bedtime a few nights per week, whenever I thought I could get away with it. I would occasionally turn on my tummy and rub my panty-clad stiffie against the mattress. The thrilling sensations of the slick nylon panties rubbing against my stiff little peenie were amazing! I would lie there quietly grunting and thrusting my groin against my mattress for what must have been hours. When I awoke in the morning, sometimes there were sticky wet spots in the front of my borrowed knickers. I always stuffed the balled-up stained panties in the bottom of the laundry hamper the next morning, and I felt certain Mum hadn't noticed - at least that is, until I saw the pile of frilly baby panties she carried in her hands.

"Let's try these lovely pull-up plastic panties on you first, little one," suggested the broadly smiling clerk, exactly as though she was talking to a shy toddler. Melanie instructed me to lift my ankles and point my toes, as she fed my feet through the leg holes of some stiff transparent pink vinyl panties decorated with cartoon farm animals. My mind went blank, and I numbly followed the instructions she crooned to me in saccharine baby tones. The saleswoman slid the noisily crackling pilchers up my legs and when I raised my bottom, she stretched the tight elastic waistband around the bulk of my new swaddling. The baby pants fitted over the nappies well enough, but the wide white, elasticised leg bands with the lace-trim felt too tight around my upper thighs, and I tentatively dared to complain.
“They’re too tight!”
The pushy clerk presumptively interrupted my whining to insist; "But that's excellent! That means these baby panties are less likely to leak! And being transparent, your Mummy can easily see when her big baby's nappy is wet and needs changing."

To my dismay, my mother nodded and heartily agreed with each observation with mounting enthusiasm. I was ordered to hop off the table so they could check how well they fitted me while standing. Mum and the clerk prodded and poked my bulging nappies through the tight panties, and pulled at the frilly elastic leg and waist bands experimentally, tugging me this way and that like a rag doll. After commenting at length on the style and coverage of the snug-fitting baby panties, finally they both agreed they were "a perfect fit!" I was then forced to try on about a dozen different styles of vinyl or plastic, snap-on and pull-up baby panties. In my humble opinion, most of them looked extremely feminine in both colour and design, but Mum seemed to decide to keep most of the pull-up panties. Some of the frillier, nylon-covered plastic panties even had matching bibs, which she declared; "My new baby definitely must have!" So they too were added to the huge packages of nappies in the trolley, along with the nappy liners and the bundles of my new wet-proof 'underwear.'

Mindful of a good sales opportunity, the helpful smiling saleswoman then suggested; "It would be handy to have a package of suitable disposable diapers too, for your new big baby. They are much more convenient when you are away from home for longer periods of time, if your bigger baby needs a quick diaper change." Mum realised her advice made sense, and the willing clerk fetched a large plastic package of disposable diapers she assured Mum were in my correct size. I noticed the pastel-pink package was clearly labelled 'Extra-extra-large, junior size 6, girl's super-thick night-time variety.'

Mum briskly ordered me to put back on the first pair of pink vinyl panties I'd tried on, and she handed them to me. As soon as she helped me tug the stiff crackling panties' tight elastic waistband up over my bulky nappy, Mum grabbed my hand and hauled me out towards the main shopping area. I was wearing nothing but nappies and frilly pink plastic panties! I ineffectually tried to wrench my hand away, protesting that I couldn't leave the changing rooms dressed like this.

"Please don't make me go out there wearing only these nappies and baby pants!" I begged my stony-faced mother as I writhed in embarrassment.
"You might as well get used to being seen in your nappies and plastic panties, Jeremy! You'll be wearing nappies for quite a while, I suspect. And lots of people will be seeing you in them! Don't make any more problems for me, little one - or you will be even more sorry!" Mum threatened darkly.

I frankly didn't know how I could be sorrier than I already was. My bottom lip began to droop as I realised I had no choice but to obey her, and I resentfully followed my cranky mother. As I started to walk - or maybe I should say waddle along behind her, the crinkling and crackling of the new stiff plastic panties seemed to announce my entrance like a deafening fanfare - or at least it sounded that way to my sensitive ears. When we emerged from the changing rooms, Dad and Angie were standing nearby and spotted us immediately. Dad couldn't help but smile broadly at my humble downcast appearance, but what really hurt was when Angie joyfully asked; "Is Jeremy going to start wearing nappies like me now?" Dad smiled tightly and nodded, and when he told my sister that I was going to be a baby just like her for some time, I wanted to weep - just like the sissy baby I was being turned into!

In addition to the nappies and baby panties, the overly-helpful clerk then suggested that the store also sold onesies and footed baby sleepers that would probably fit a child my size. Mum gripped my hand tightly as we walked behind the woman over to the 'alternative clothing' section of the store. The clerk then opened a box containing a white stretchy terrycloth onesie, and informed Mum. "This style and size should probably fit him, although it is a size six to eight! Didn't I hear you mention little Jeremy here is in his teens?"

Mum's polite smile turned sardonic and her tone frosty when she replied; "Yes Melanie, I'm afraid he is. He turned thirteen two months ago! But he's very small for his age, and often acts like a six-year-old, too - or even younger!" I was scowling fiercely by the time Mum released my hand to examine the short-sleeved onesie. It was basically white, but had a babyish print of pink teddies dancing across the breast. After stretching it out across my slender chest experimentally, she asked the clerk if it was okay for me to try it on here. When the pretty brunette smiled and nodded enthusiastically, my mother instructed me to raise my hands and she threaded the juvenile garment over my arms and bowed head. She tugged it down over my bulky nappy, and stretched the tail hanging over my padded bum to check the size.

"Spread your legs a little more, Jeremy," Mum ordered curtly. My mother then knelt in front of me and reaching between my legs, pulled the dangling crotch pieces together and clipped closed the five chromed snap fasteners under my groin. It felt strange to have Mum pulling the flaps of the onesie firmly together under my heavily padded crotch, and snapping it closed while pushing up hard against my genitals, even protected as they were by the soft thick nappies. She stood up and admired my new 'underwear,' pulling it higher at the shoulders till the crotch band tugged my snug nappy even tighter against my groin. Behind me she stretched the onesie's sides down over my bulging rear until my pink plastic panties were completely enclosed, the stretchy material drawn taut across my huge bottom and clearly outlining the thick nappy pinned beneath.

Mum ran her fingers along the frilly bands of white lace peeping out attractively all the way around each leg hole. "This one fits just fine!” she crowed. “I would like six more, in a variety of colours and patterns, if they're available?" Naturally they were. I huddled morosely next to my father and sister, studiously ignoring Mum as she chose the colours and patterns she liked best. Mindful of her preference in baby panties and nappy pins, the clerk only showed my mother the most feminine pastel colours and prints to choose from. When the sales clerk helpfully pointed to the bargain box of winter pyjamas on sale, Mum loudly declared, "Since it's mid-summer, my new baby can sleep in just a onesie. We don't need footed sleepers for him - not yet." I felt relieved she wasn't buying any of the babyish footed sleepers the store also stocked. Mum held up the plastic bag containing my normal clothes, and asked the assistant if they sold any outer wear, as the denim shorts I'd worn into the store would no longer fit over my bulky nappies.

Unfortunately this store didn't sell ordinary clothes, but while I was tying one of the broken laces on my sandshoes, the grinning sales clerk assured my Mum, "As a matter of fact, the department store at the other end of the mall stocks some rather suitable clothing for pre-teen wetters like your little Jeremy." She turned her back to me and whispered instructions to my sniggering mother, who laughed loudly at one suggestion.
“Thank you, Melanie. You’ve been a great help,” Mum assured the smiling woman, who waved away her thanks before walking off.

Dad paid for all my new stuff, and after Mum removed a couple of items and placed them in a smaller pink plastic bag she kept with her, he wheeled the loaded trolley out to the car - along with the bag containing my original clothes. When he returned empty-handed about five minutes later, we all walked over to the department store at the other end of the crowded mall. I was dragged along by one hand wearing only my baby pants and thick nappies, the infantile white onesie and my tatty old sandshoes. I let my head hang down so that my long blonde hair fell forward, trying to hide my blushing red cheeks. I can only imagine what people thought when they saw me waddle by, my Mum dragging me along by the hand like a shy toddler.

Mum insisted we stroll over to the girl's clothing department first, and she handed the small pink plastic bag she was holding to Dad with a sly smirk. I had no idea why she wanted to go to the girl's section - until we reached a rack full of little girls' cotton drill shortalls. They looked exactly the same as cut-down shortie bibbed overalls for toddlers, only bigger. Mum sorted through the sizes and colours on the long rack, and finally pulled out a pair of pink shortalls obviously designed for a chubbier girl. She held them up in front of me. "I think these will do," she stated firmly. "Let's try them on you, honey." From her tone, I knew it wasn't a suggestion.

I couldn't decide whether it would be better to remain clad only in a revealing infantile onesie, or let Mum dress me in an effeminate pair of pink shortalls - which at least might conceal my humiliating nappies. In my dazed confusion, I didn't offer much resistance when she sharply ordered me to try them on, holding the open pink overalls down in front of me in blunt invitation. I instinctively grabbed Mum's shoulders for support as I unsteadily stepped into the gaping leg holes, the thick wad of cloth bunched between my upper thighs making every movement clumsy. She then pulled them up my little legs, and with difficulty tugged the shirred elastic waistband over my big diapered bottom, almost lifting me off my feet in the process.

Mum decided the fit was too tight, so she selected another pair of pink shortalls in the next larger size, announcing loudly; "Try these bigger ones, Jeremy. We have to make sure there is plenty of room for your thick nappies, sweetheart!" My cheeks suffused with blood and turned pink with embarrassment, and my eyes darted about to see if any of the customers or staff wandering about had heard my mother's humiliating admonishment. Several women and girls were looking our way but my mother seemed undeterred. She undressed me and then helped me into the larger outfit. She was apparently satisfied with the roomier fit around my bulky hips and protruding bottom. The dangling pink shoulder straps at the rear were brought over my narrow shoulders and then connected to the high bib front, and she adjusted them for a snugger fit at the crotch. When I tried to assist her, Mum simply batted my hands away and did it herself. I was made to feel more and more like a useless toddler with each passing moment, especially when she man-handled me like an incompetent pre-schooler. "I can pick up some snap fasteners at the fabric store tonight, and sew them in the crotch for you," she commented, with a tight smile that never reached her cool, olive-green eyes. "It will make for easier nappy changes later. Then your pretty pink shortalls will be just like a real baby's!"

While inspecting my cringing form, Mum noted with a snort of annoyance that I was still wearing my shabby old sneakers. "Those old things will never do!" she exclaimed with a dismissive wave of her hand. She dragged me over to the nearby girls' shoe section, where she picked out some pink sneakers for me to try on. When the young female assistant explained I wouldn't be allowed to try on any shoes unless I was wearing socks or stockings, Mummy strode over to the girls' sock display and opened a new packet of white cotton socks for me. She made me sit in a chair on my big padded bottom and then knelt in front of me, tugging the almost-sheer socks over my obediently-pointed toes. When she turned the sock tops down, I saw there were two elaborate rows of wide pink lace frills flaring out around my ankles. Mum had dressed me in little girl's frilly anklet socks!

After the pretty smiling assistant took Mum's place, she couldn't stop stealing glances at my huge padded crotch.Although the question was clearly written in her wide blue eyes, she didn't say a word about my babyish outfit while she tied the lolly-pink laces on the new sandshoes for me. When she grinned and stood up and stepped out of the way, I was finally allowed to stand and view my appearance in a nearby full-length mirror. I could hardly believe what had happened to me in less than half an hour! As Mum selected a few more pairs of frilly socks for me from the rack, she told me, "I want you to wear your new socks and pink sneakers home, too, baby. They really complete your 'new look'!"

In the mirror I caught sight of Dad returning with my sister. My eyes widened when I saw Angie was also dressed in a new outfit. She too, wore a new pair of pink cotton drill shortalls over her white terry onesie, and she was wearing her usual pink sneakers with pink-frilled white anklet socks. With a start I realised Angie and I were dressed like twin sisters! Smiling down at me with ill-concealed contempt, Dad grimly informed me, "I don't know if I mentioned it before, but you and Angie will be dressed alike from now on. We thought that your sister would be more anxious to copy you and follow your example on the potty, if you two looked more alike."

Needless to say Angie was thrilled when she saw her big brother dressed in exactly the same fashion as herself, right down to the bulging nappies. She already adored buying new clothes - girls seem to love shopping for clothes even at an early age - and was proud as Punch to be dressed just like her big brother. She didn't understand that it was really the other way around; I was dressed just like her!

Mum suggested to Dad, "Brett, why don't you take our 'girls' to the ice-cream store, while I finish my shopping." She smiled down superiorly at me, a knowing glint in her cool, olive-green eyes. "It's going to be so much fun buying pretty new clothes for my new baby girl, now that I know her proper girl's size!" Dad took Angie and me firmly by the hand and walked us over to the ice-cream parlour in the centre of the mall. I tried to stay close to Dad and ducked my head in embarrassment, but kept a wary eye out in case any of my friends might be wandering about.

"Aren't your toddler girls adorable!" some confused old woman gushed at Dad while we were walking along hand-in-hand. I knew I looked like an oversized toddler, but it didn't occur to me that strangers would think I was a girl toddler! Though it should have been obvious, because here I was, wearing pink shoes and pink shortalls, frilly socks, and I had shoulder-length blonde hair. Dad politely thanked the elderly woman for the compliment without correcting her mistake, much to my initial puzzlement.

I started growing my hair again about a year ago, when the girl-next-door's mum told me it would look really pretty if I grew it longer. My dad used to make me cut it real short, almost like a crew-cut, telling me he was sick and tired of me being mistaken for a girl all the time. But last year I timidly stood up for myself, and told Mum I didn't want to look like a concentration-camp victim any more. I wanted to grow my hair longer, like most of the other kids. She convinced Dad to let me have my own way, and except for having the ends trimmed a couple of times - at Mum's firm insistence - my hair had grown untouched for most of the year.

When we arrived at the ice-cream store, Dad bought us all small vanilla cones and led us to a booth to sit down. Before I could start on my ice-cream, he emptied the small pink plastic bag on the table, and two plastic-backed cotton bibs fell out. Dad clipped one of the childish bibs around my neck so I wouldn't mess my new clothes, and I started to frown and sulk - till I realised at least Angie had to wear a bib, too. The only bearable thing about this whole evening was that I hadn't yet been spotted by any of my friends, either at the department store or in the ice-cream parlour. I knew it was only a matter of time. I dreaded the excruciating moment of discovery. I tried to forget about my embarrassing predicament and gobbled my yummy ice-cream with relish.

We later met Mum at the entrance to the department store, where she was waiting with a couple of huge, suspiciously-full shopping bags at her feet. When she grinned at my appearance and flicked up the ice-cream-stained bib covering my chest, I blanched when I realised I had unwittingly worn the humiliating baby item during our entire stroll back through the mall. I ineffectually plucked at my dirty bib and glanced distractedly at her overflowing bags of shopping, and could only fearfully imagine what the bulging plastic bags contained. Mum told me to leave my bib alone while we all walked slowly to the car, and thankfully Dad then drove us home. Angie was still excited about our new matching clothes, and twittered on about "how cool" it was for us to be dressed alike. She chattered endlessly about it all the way home. I wished I could share her enthusiasm.

Since it was already after eight in the evening and past Angie's bedtime, I was told it was also time for me to be 'put down for the night' too. After brushing my teeth, Mum helped me take off my bib, my new pink shortalls, shoes and socks, and then ordered me to climb straight into bed. Before she pulled the covers over me, Mum reached under my onesie and inside one of the tight leg holes of my crackling pink plastic panties, and she fingered the crotch of my bulky cloth nappies. I gazed up at her in astonished confusion when she cooed, "Still dry, my baby?" She smiled in wicked anticipation. "I'll bring you some milk after I put Angie down."

A few minutes later Mum returned with a sippy-cup full of warm milk, and instructed me to drink it all down. After I drained it, she took the plastic toddler cup from my trembling hands and turned out the light, and whispered; "Sweet dreams, Baby Jeremy." It took me forever to fall asleep. I twisted and turned from side to side, unaccustomed to wearing the humiliating bulky nappies and the noisy crackling plastic panties. The thick padding between my legs prevented me from lying comfortably on my side as I usually did. My thighs were forced so wide, they were really uncomfortable. I rolled on my back, my little legs flopping uncontrollably apart, the covers tenting over my hugely padded loins. I lay awake for some time, scared of what the morrow might bring.

to be continued in chapter 2.
If you want to read more, leave a comment and let me know.

Baby Jennie

Chapter 2. Baby's First Accident

Since I had been put to bed so early, I awoke rather early the following morning. I quietly lay there listening to the silent household gradually stir to life. Even though it was Saturday, a day I usually enjoyed sleeping late, I needed to do a wee-wee in a really bad way! I knew that the toilet was off-limits to me now, and was debating with myself whether or not I could sneak into the Nursery bathroom down the hall, pull down my nappy and use the loo unnoticed. While I was still mentally arguing, Mum quietly walked into my bedroom wearing a huge smile.

She pulled down my top sheet and sang, "Good morning, Babycakes! How are we today? Are we still dry?" Without waiting for an answer, she slipped two fingers beneath my onesie and reached under the tight leg band of the frilly plastic panties, and expertly probed my nappy around the crotch. "Still dry, I see!" she exclaimed in astonishment. "Well, you can't hold out forever. Let Mummy dress you first, baby, and then you can help me dress Angie."

I pouted up at her in misery and whined; "Oh Mum! Do I really have to wear nappies? I learned my lesson yesterday. I promise I won't ever tease Angie about her potty-training again. I'll be good, really!"
"Oh I know you'll be good - really! And yes, you do have to wear your nappies! Don't think of this as a punishment, but rather your small contribution towards helping us successfully potty-train your little sister. Besides, I think this might be fun! Oh and by the way; as part of your new status, I've decided it would be more appropriate if you called us Mummy and Daddy from now on. Hop out of bed now baby, and Mummy will dress you for the day."

I slowly climbed out of bed and Mum - I mean Mummy - took me firmly by the hand and led me waddling into Angie's spacious bedroom. She unsnapped and removed my snug white onesie, and then reached into a dresser drawer and pulled out a new lemon-yellow folded garment. She shook it out, and I could see it was some kind of stretchy terry cotton, sleeveless girl's snap-crotch romper suit. It had a bib front and slender straps going over the shoulders, both adorned with white lace frills. "Okay, let's put this on you, honey,” she suggested. “It will be good for playing in." The snug elasticised waist and leg bands and the full-cut bubble bottom seemed to emphasise my bulky nappies underneath even more when I tried it on. Mummy turned me around to zip the garment closed up the back, and then she ran her fingers through my lustrous long blonde hair. "I think it's time to fix your hair in a more suitable style," she murmured. "Sit down on the stool here in front of the dressing table while I comb you out, baby."

Mummy made a part down the middle of my head, drawing my long locks to either side. She then combed my hair down in the front over my forehead. With a pair of sharp scissors she created a neat, even set of bangs, a fraction of an inch above my eyebrows. Despite my half-hearted protestations the hair on each side of my head was brushed straight, and then braided into neat six-inch blonde pigtails bound with hair elastics. A little yellow satin ribbon was tied into a pretty bow at the end of each pigtail, matching my romper perfectly. When I saw myself in the mirror I was truly shocked, and let out a small yelp. My grinning Mummy tried to reassure me, telling me that I looked like a really cute little toddler girl!

"Stop worrying! No one will recognise you! Nobody would know you're really a boy - unless they know you really well." Her assurances didn't make me feel any better, of course. We then walked over to Angie's bed and woke my sleeping sister. While rousing from her sound sleep, she groggily asked Mum, "Who is that girl standing next to you, Mummy?" She then recognised that the girl was her new 'baby sister,' Jeremy. She was so thrilled to see me dressed in my rompers and pigtails, her cute little face lit up in delight and she giggled sleepily.

Mummy crooned, "Time for you to hop out of bed and be dressed just like Jeremy, sweetie-pie. But let's check your diaper first." Just as she did for me, Mummy checked Angie's nappy and gaily announced that she needed to be changed at once. Turning to me, Mummy declared, "Now you can be Mummy's little helper, honey." Angie's cloth night nappy was saturated, and I helped Mummy change her on the padded change table. I had to dump the soggy nappy and damp pink baby panties in the white nappy bucket under the table, while Mummy spread a papery pink disposable under my sister's bottom. Mummy thoroughly cleaned her pink bottom and thighs, then used a fresh baby wipe to carefully swipe along her puffy little slit in front several times, until Angie began giggling uncontrollably and writhing on the table. I poured on the talc and my smiling Mummy rubbed it in, and then brought the front flap over my chortling sister's powdery tummy. During the day Mummy usually only tapes a disposable diaper around my baby sister's hips, and it was no surprise that Angie also ended up wearing a yellow terry romper over her crackling disposable, so we were dressed like twins again.

Mummy then shepherded Angie and me into the kitchen for breakfast. Dad was reading his newspaper at the kitchen table when we entered. He looked up at us and grinned broadly, exclaiming, "My goodness! Don't my 'girls' look pretty today!" I blushed, but couldn't think of a clever comeback. That's when I noticed that in addition to Angie's usual booster seat, her old pink highchair was standing beside the breakfast table. Dad explained to Mum, "I'm afraid since we don't have another booster seat, Jeremy will have to sit in Angie's old highchair for his meals. I'm sure glad we didn't give it away."
"Why can't I just sit in a regular chair, Daddy? I am NOT sitting in a stupid highchair!" That was a mistake! Before I could react, Daddy leapt out of his chair and snatched me up. He smacked my thickly padded rear hard enough to hurt. SMACK!

He dumped me heavily on the wooden highchair's pink padded vinyl seat, tightly strapped me in with the attached worn white leather crotch and waist belts, and then angrily snapped the tray table in place. "This is where you will be sitting for all your meals, little one - and no arguments! Do you hear me?" I was smart enough not to say anything to further enrage him, and I meekly sat there. I silently nodded, my lower lip trembling uncontrollably. The smack hadn't hurt that much, but it was so humiliating when he treated me like a naughty two-year-old.

Tears of shame welled in my eyes, but I willed myself to stop crying like a sissy baby and managed to hold them back. Mummy ignored my protruding bottom lip and trembling chin as she clipped a pink terry bib around my neck, before smoothing it out over my chest. A plastic bowl of milky cereal and a spoon were placed on the wide pink wooden tray in front of me, and everyone seemed to ignore me for the moment. While eating my breakfast in sulky silence, I could no longer retain my aching bladder. I gave in with a barely repressed shudder, flooding my nappies with hot urine. I experienced the strangest feeling of combined relief and embarrassment - in addition to a weirdly pleasant sensation of creeping heat around my loins. I had been holding it for so long that the comforting warm stream seemed to last forever, trickling slowly out my twitching peenie and eventually seeping into the absorbent fluffy terrycloth. I tried not to let it show that I was saturating my nappies while I quietly finished eating my breakfast. I have no idea when my bladder finally finished emptying.

When everyone else had finished eating, I asked Mummy the most difficult question I ever had to ask in recent memory. While still trapped in the humiliating pink highchair, in a low voice I muttered; "Can you change my nappy, Mum?"
"What did you say, Baby Jeremy?" she snapped in obvious annoyance, as she handed me a pink sippy-cup full of watered-down orange juice.
"Mummy, would you please change my nappy?" I asked in a slightly louder voice, ducking my head in shame as I corrected my mistake.
"Certainly, baby!” Mummy replied with a victorious smile. “After you finish your juice, I would be happy to oblige. Angelica, then you can be Mummy's little helper and help me change your baby sister's nappy." To my dismay, Angie seemed thrilled at the prospect of helping Mummy change my diaper.

When my sippy-cup was empty, Mummy took it from me and unlocked and removed the tray, and then released me from the highchair restraints. After she lifted me down, we all walked - I waddled heavily - up the stairs and into Angie's bedroom. I was instructed to climb up on the padded vinyl-covered changing table and lie down on my back. Mummy unsnapped the crotch piece of my stretchy yellow rompers and let the stretchy front flap flip up over my chest. My stiff pink plastic panties were pulled down and off, and the heavy wet nappies unpinned and removed. They were thoroughly soaked in the crotch and smelled strongly of fresh urine. Mummy wrinkled her nose in distaste as she dumped the stinky cloth nappies in the big white diaper pail that was already partially filled with Angie's soiled cloth nappies.

"I think we should buy you your own diaper pail, Jeremy," Mummy suggested brightly. "Wouldn't that be lovely? We could even print your name on it!" It was hard to appear excited about owning my own nappy bucket. "Angie darling, can you hand me two of Jeremy's cloth nappies, please?" While Angie slowly counted out the fluffy white cloth nappies for me from the stack underneath the changing table, Mummy was busy cleaning, oiling and powdering my bare bottom and groin.
"Here are Jeremy's nappies," Angie offered helpfully.

"Why thank you, sweetheart! Can you fetch me some clean baby panties from that open dresser drawer, please?" Mummy placed the nappies between my splayed thighs along with two disposable nappy liners, slid them under my raised bottom, and then pinned them on me just as tightly as the clerk did at the store, using two of the pink plastic-headed pins to secure each side. Angie returned with some bright yellow plastic panties that snapped up the sides at the front, and she waited patiently while my nappy was tightly pinned in place. Mummy again profusely thanked Angie for her help before she slid the opened fresh panties under my obligingly-raised rear. Positioning the front on top of my tightly pinned nappies, Mum snapped the sides together and then checked that any stray bits of cloth were completely sealed inside the wetproof plastic. Satisfied, Mummy then pulled down the ends of my stretchy yellow romper and snapped the front to the back under my bulging crotch.

"Okay, you're all done! Thank you Angelica, for helping Mummy change the baby. Do you want to go outside and play in the backyard, sweetie?"
"Yes please, Mummy!" Angie agreed with great enthusiasm. We slowly headed downstairs and shuffled down the hallway towards the back door. By now my sister understood that whenever she was playing outside in our yard, she had to wear her toddler harness and a leash, so she couldn't accidentally wander off. Our spacious backyard was not completely fenced, only lined with low oleander bushes for most of the perimeter. My sister waited impatiently while Mummy took down her old white leather toddler harness from the hook behind the door, before fastening the straps around her chest and waist. I idly wondered why Mummy was using her worn old harness, but not for long. She grabbed Angie's new, larger, pink leather toddler harness from the hook, and threaded the straps over my head and arms before I could back away. She swiftly spun me around and buckled the chest strap in the rear between my shoulder blades before I had a chance to react.

"I don't need a toddler harness!" I wailed in dismay, tugging ineffectually at the strong leather chest strap, while she tightly buckled the waist belt behind me as well. The pink toddler harness was a little larger than Angie's old white one, and could easily be made to fit me by altering the adjustable chest and shoulder straps - which Daddy had done already. In addition, the new pink harness even had a wide lockable crotch strap, which made it impossible for the wearer to remove. Mummy slapped my bare thighs wider apart and kneeling behind me, reached between my spread legs. She plucked the pink leather crotch strap dangling from the front and pulled it back between my thighs, threading the end through a buckle attached to rear waistband.

Mummy stood and tugged the crotch strap tighter at the back. I felt my soft fluffy nappy being squeezed even more snugly against my genitals as I was involuntarily lifted onto my tippy-toes. She released her grip and when I dropped back on my heels, my thick nappy remained tightly pressed between my bowed legs. To my ears, the small 'click' of the rear lock closing sounded like a prison door slamming. Mummy tugged on the big brass ring riveted near the rear buckle of the chest strap, and explained; "Honey, even though you don't really need a toddler harness, your Daddy and I feel that it's important that you and Angie are treated exactly alike while you're both wearing nappies."

With my bottom lip practically dragging on the ground, we were led outside into our sunny backyard. There I could see two fine chain leashes attached to the clothesline pole in the centre of the recently mown lawn. One long leash was securely clipped onto the ring riveted to the rear of the chest strap of Angie's harness, out of her reach behind her back, and the other slender length of chain was padlocked to my harness. My range was limited to about twenty feet from the pole. I couldn't leave the backyard even if I'd wanted. I felt like a naughty puppy being restrained on a leash!

I played listlessly with Angie in our sandpit at first, although she thoroughly enjoyed having someone - anyone - to play with. She now thought of me not only as her sister, but as her friend and equal, dressed and treated exactly like her. We made castles, tunnels and buildings in the sand for almost an hour before it suddenly hit me. I needed to go to the toilet. I hadn’t done a poo since yesterday morning, as usual. I tried to ignore the painful cramping feeling in my lower gut for a while, but before long, the initial urge became an overpowering need. The thought of messing my nappies was repugnant to me, but eventually I couldn't stand the sharp cramping pain in my bowels any longer.

I struggled upright onto my knees and when I thought Angie wasn't watching, I took a deep breath and held it. It felt strange to be kneeling outside in the bright morning sunshine, fully-dressed while trying to do a poo. But I slid my knees further apart, braced my hands on my thighs, and pushed down with my tummy muscles. Out surged a large solid log of poo-poo into my tightly pinned nappy. It hit the rear of my snug cloth diaper and stopped for a second, holding my sensitive anus wide open as I quietly grunted to force the rest out. The crotch strap of my toddler harness was buckled so tightly, there was no room for my emerging poo to escape. The firm turd began to bend and then spread slowly in all directions, so hot against my delicate anal ring and tender botty cheeks. Then there was another hotter gush from my bowels, and a softer stream of sloppy poop filled the rear of my nappy. My guts felt considerably better after relieving some of the pressure, but my bottom felt hot and mushy inside the messy diaper. Despite the uncomfortable icky squishy feeling I pushed some more, and slowly filled the seat of my snug nappy to what I suspected was the limit. For good measure, I let loose a flood of pee into my hot poopy nappy at the same time.

Talk about being a baby! I think this was as close as I could come: wearing a baby romper, toddler harness and a leash, while kneeling in the sandpit in my wet and messy nappies. I was just about to call out to Mummy to ask for a diaper change, when I heard our front doorbell ring. I froze in terror and listened intently, and distantly heard Mummy talking to someone at the front door. About thirty seconds later, our neighbour Michael came strolling around the corner of our house and into the backyard. At first my ten-year-old friend looked puzzled while he stared at us kneeling in the sandpit, obviously wondering where I was - until he finally recognised me, despite my beribboned pigtails, bulging hips, and effeminate toddler clothes.

Michael’s mouth dropped open and his big blue eyes went wide, and then all he could manage to gasp was; "Holy Cow! What happened to you, Jeremy?"

I wished I could have died! Because I was locked in the toddler harness and tethered to the clothesline pole, I couldn't even run away to hide my shameful state. And of all times, here I was - on my hands and knees with wet and messy nappies, just like a real baby! "H-h-hi Michael," I weakly greeted him, completely embarrassed by my irremovable toddler restraints and my effeminate infantile appearance. When he hesitantly asked about my obvious thick nappies, sissy hairstyle and girly baby clothes, I haltingly tried to explain that Mummy and Daddy had asked me to help potty-train Angie - as if this somehow justified my humiliating situation and feminine outfit.

Michael stepped closer to the sandpit where Angie and I were still kneeling, and instantly detected the tell-tale earthy odour of a freshly-filled nappy. He sniffed the air loudly, wrinkled his nose in disgust, and then frowned in confusion. “It smells like someone has pooped in their nappies. That's not you, Jeremy - is it?" What could I say?
Obviously it was me! I shrugged my shoulders in embarrassed resignation, and grimaced as if to say; 'What else could I do?'
Michael stepped closer to where I knelt, and then surprised me when he reached behind me to pat my bum. He squeezed and pressed my bulging diaper bottom through my tight yellow romper suit. I heard him gasp in shock at the size of the distinct poo-poo parcel in my pants. If there was any doubt before, there was none now! "Omigod! You did poop in your nappies! And you're wet, too! Are you a total baby?"

After he snatched his hand away in disgust, I tried to make Michael understand that I had been forced to wear nappies since yesterday evening. Finally, I’d had no choice. "I had to go!" I wailed in humiliated distress, tears of shame welling in my eyes. My sinking pride hit rock-bottom when I had to miserably ask my astonished young friend, "Can you please go and tell my Mummy that I need my nappy changed?"

Michael laughed scornfully at my humiliating request and my cheeks flamed anew with fresh embarrassment. "Your Mummy? Okay, baby! I'll go fetch your Mummy!" He slowly turned around, walked up to the porch and knocked on the back door, watching me the whole time with an expression of stunned disbelief marring his handsome boyish features. I couldn't meet his frank unblinking gaze. I ducked away from his confused cobalt-blue eyes. I don't know what he said to Mummy, but she strolled out a few minutes later wearing a bright smile. She carried some of my clean cloth nappies in one hand, and a big vinyl-covered, pink gingham bag full of diaper supplies over her shoulder.

I gazed up at Mummy in horror and fearfully asked what she intended? "Well, you asked to have your nappies changed, sweetie! I came as quickly as I could," she replied airily, as she unlocked the chain and then the crotch strap. She sniffed the fetid air surrounding me and commented, "My, my! It certainly smells like you've made a mess in that nappy, sweetheart! You need to be changed right away!" She unbuckled and removed the shameful pink leather toddler harness.

"You're not going to change me out here, Mummy, are you?" I pleaded in embarrassed confusion.
"Of course I am, honey! Why ever not?" Mummy blithely replied. She chuckled at my aghast expression. She unfolded a vinyl-backed pink cotton changing mat flat on the grass and instructed me to lie down on it. With Michael and Angie watching closely, she insisted on changing my poopy nappies right there in the middle of the back yard!

"But Mummy-" I groaned, my cheeks red and burning with shame. She swept me off my feet and simply forced me to lie on my back on the crackling pink change mat.
"Shhh, baby! Everything's okay. Shhh!" Mummy crooned reassuringly, exactly as though she was coaxing a shy little girl to behave. She unsnapped the yellow playsuit and the front crotch piece of the stretchy terry romper flew up over my tummy, almost striking my flushed red face. "Oops! Careful, sweetie." Mummy unsnapped the side clasps of my yellow plastic panties and ordered me to lift my bottom. "That's it. Just a little higher, baby." She tucked the back of my romper safely out of the way and carefully slid the yellow panties from under my raised rear, commenting freely on the thick brown smears around the leg bands.

"And down, baby. Oops! These pilchers will have to be soaked in Napisan! Oh yuck-spuck! You really did have to go poopies! Didn't you sweetheart? Aw! Look at those nasty brown stains on your new baby panties." She clucked her tongue in mild annoyance before continuing needlessly, "They won't wash out, you know. These brown poo-poo stains will fade to a kind of orange-yellow colour, unmistakable to any mother. Anyone who sees your stained pilchers will know my little Jeremy is not only a nappy-wetter, but a panty-pooper, too!" She delicately wiped the dirty panties down with baby wipes, and then carefully rolled the soiled yellow plastic pants into a ball. I cringed under the wide staring eyes of my horrified young friend and my fascinated little sister.

"Angie?” Mummy asked. “Will you go fetch me some clean baby panties from Jeremy's dresser drawer in the Nursery, please darling? These ones are too stained to use again. Thank you, sweetie." Angelica happily dashed off to do her bidding while Mummy unpinned my soiled wet nappy. My cheeks burned crimson with shame when she pulled the sodden nappy front down with a sticky wet 'squelch!' "Oh baby! What a big mess you made in your nappy! Oh well Big babies make big messes, I suppose. My, my, look at all that poo-poos! It's everywhere! Yuck-spuck! Lift your knees up to your chest, honey. That's right Good baby. Now spread those little legs wide for Mummy Wider, baby... That's it Gosh, those nappy-liners do a good job!"

Mummy carefully dropped the heavily soiled pieces of lint in a scented orange plastic nappy sack, then she used the relatively clean but wet front of my nappy to scrape away the worst of the mess. The filthy cloth nappies were carefully slid from under my elevated rear and rolled up, then dumped in a used plastic shopping bag lying open beside her knees. Mummy placed the offensive item aside with a grimace of distaste, and then turned her attention to my poop-stained bottom once more.

It took Mummy several humiliating minutes to wipe my heavily-soiled botty cheeks and mucky crease clean of sticky smelly excrement. Fresh tears of shame sprang from my eyes when she delicately took hold of the head of my shrivelled peenie. She used it as a handle to shift my genitals from side to side as she cleaned me with a handful of cool moist baby wipes from the slim white plastic tub, till she was sure my little sack and stalk were totally free of sticky faeces. The orange nappy sack was almost full of brown-stained baby wipes by the time she was satisfied I was clean, and then she massaged the baby oil and then some powder into my crotch and bottom. She placed two of the thick terry nappies together and quietly commanded: "Lift up, baby." She slid the fresh nappies underneath me, positioned them correctly, and slipped some new nappy liners in place, too. "And down - good baby." By the time Angie returned clutching a huge pair of transparent pink plastic panties, Mummy had tightly pinned me into the soft fluffy nappies.

"Thank you, sweetheart," Mummy beamed at Angie. "You're such a good little helper for Mummy!" She slipped the pink pull-up pilchers over my compliantly raised feet and drew them up to my knees, then helped me to stand so she could tug them up over my bulky diapered rear. When I was snugly dressed again in my tight yellow romper, Mummy cooed to me; "Okay Pumpkin, you're all set! Michael, if you want to stay and play with Baby Jerry and Angie until lunchtime, that would be fine." After locking my toddler harness in place and reattaching the restrictive chain, she checked Angie's disposable diaper. Finding her only a little damp, Mummy decided my sister's diaper change could wait until after lunch. She collected the remaining things in the pink vinyl bag, and carrying the full orange sack and the plastic bag containing my heavy stinky nappy slightly away from her body, she strolled back inside the house.

I haltingly tried to explain to Michael what had happened to me since yesterday evening, but he couldn't get over how much I looked like a pretty toddler girl with my new clothes, nappies and hairdo. His big blue eyes clearly reflected his disbelief, but he didn't seem so disgusted any more. I told him I couldn't believe my amazing transformation, either. I begged him not to tell anyone else about my being diapered and all, and he grudgingly assented. We played in the sandbox for the remainder of the morning, and I actually had a pretty good time - considering how I was dressed.

At lunchtime Mummy walked out and unleashed us, then she removed our harnesses and instructed us to toddle inside to eat. She casually asked Michael if he would like to have lunch with the babies, and to my dismay, my grinning friend readily agreed. After first ringing his Mum for permission in the kitchen, he was stunned into silence when I was lifted into the pink highchair. Mummy belted me into the padded seat with the attached crotch and waist straps, buckling me securely in place like I was a helpless infant in danger of toppling over. He continued to stare in open-mouthed wonder when she clipped a big yellow terry bib around my neck, but he still didn't utter a sound. After the pink highchair tray was solidly locked in place, I was given a typical toddler's lunch on a flat pink plastic Barbie plate. Mummy cut my sandwich into bite-size chunks, and my milk was served in a pink sippy-cup like Angie's. Michael had a regular whole sandwich cut in halves, and a proper glass of milk. There wasn't much conversation during the meal, but I was acutely aware of Michael's astonished blue eyes on me in the highchair the entire time.

After lunch, Mummy told Michael that it was time for Angie and me to take our afternoon naps. But she suggested if he wanted to come back and "play with the babies after their nap time," he was more than welcome. Michael chuckled at my downcast expression, as Mummy was briskly scrubbing my grubby face and hands with a warm soapy washcloth. He made his good-byes and departed with a wave, still chortling quietly to himself. After my restraints were removed and Mummy lifted me down from the highchair, I waddled upstairs and started heading for my bedroom. But she told me I should follow her into Angie's Nursery instead. I shuffled into my sister's room and found that in addition to Angie's youth bed, Daddy had erected her old pink wooden baby crib that morning!

"Daddy and I feel it would be best if you spent as much time as possible with Angie during this 'pre-potty-training' period. Unfortunately, Angie's Nursery isn't large enough to fit your regular bed in here with hers. So your father took Angie's crib out of storage and set that up for you, Jeremy. This is where you will be sleeping from now on. I know it's a fraction small for you, but you will just have to curl up a little while you sleep."
"But Mum, unh Mummy! I can't fit in there! I don't want to sleep in a pink baby crib! It's not fair! Why can't Angie use the stupid old crib?" I couldn't keep the childish whine of disappointment out of my voice.
"Because we're trying to help Angie learn to behave like a big girl, silly!" Mummy condescendingly replied.

It seemed that now I was even more of a baby than Angie! What with eating in a highchair and sleeping in the pink wooden baby crib. Mummy stepped on the metal release lever near the foot of the right hand leg of the crib, and deftly caught the heavy wooden side rail as it started to drop. She lowered the high railing with a loud clatter and ordered me to climb in. I obeyed with grumbling reluctance. She raised the barred crib railing, until the two inbuilt steel bolts automatically slid home into the metal slots set in the wooden side posts near the top, locking it securely in place. Somehow I felt like I was in prison, and I flopped onto my back in sulky silence.

Mummy asked, "Angie, would it be okay if we give a couple of your stuffed animals to your baby sister for her to share while she sleeps in her crib?" Angie was more than willing to loan me her stuffed Barney and a huge pink teddy bear, which Mummy brought over to my cot and placed next to me. "What do you say to your sister, Jeremy?" she demanded crisply.
"Thank you, Angie," I grumbled ungraciously in reply.

After tucking Angie into her bed, Mummy closed the drapes and wished us; "Sweet dreams, my pretty babies!" I gazed out through the wooden bars at the darkened room in despair, thinking that nothing could be more degrading than this. Now I was supposed to sleep in a crib in my sister's Nursery! When Angie's breathing indicated she had fallen asleep, I wriggled over to the side of the cot near the foot end, and squeezed my hand through the narrow gap between the pink wooden bars. I tried to stretch down as far as I could, to see if I could reach the release lever. The stiff bars were made from thick inflexible hardwood, with almost no give. My straining fingers could barely reach the dull steel lever near the floor, let alone have the strength to depress it sufficiently. I was trapped like an animal in a cage, and withdrew my throbbing arm with a sigh, absent-mindedly rubbing my sore bicep with the soft plush pink teddy.

I listened carefully to make sure I couldn't hear Mummy moving around anywhere upstairs, and then quietly stood up in the cot. The sides of the cot were quite high, and I could barely poke my chin over the top rail. There were two horizontal rails at the top, though only the bottom rail was connected to the vertical wooden bars. The very top rail was made up of a system of tubes over the wooden rail inside. There is an unattached metal tube that spins around freely, and over that, another larger loose plastic tube made of a soft, chewable material. A 'teething rail,' I think Mummy called it. Anyway, I stood up and hung onto the lower rail, and realised there was just enough room to slip my fingers between the two rails. When I tried to grab the top rail, the plastic tube simply rolled around in my hand, preventing me from gaining any purchase. I sighed with disappointment when I realised there was no way I could easily climb over the rails. Tired and dejected, I lay down and soon drifted off to sleep, which surprised me. I hadn't taken an afternoon nap in years.

I awoke to find Mummy's fingers probing inside my nappy, which of course was still dry. I thrust aside the soft pink teddy that inadvertently ended up in my arms while I slept, and sat up and rubbed the sleep from my eyes when Mummy unlocked and lowered the crib side. Angie's diaper was wet through, and I helped Mummy change her first. Then she was dressed in her yellow romper suit again, just like me. Mummy gave us a sippy-cup of sweet orange cordial to drink in the kitchen, and we each carried another full cup of cordial when we waddled outside.

The rest of the afternoon was spent just like normal for Angie - and now for me. We played mostly in the sandpit, harnessed and chained in the backyard all afternoon. We hadn't been outside for more than half an hour before I felt the first hot stream gush out of my peenie, drenching my thirsty nappy in front. I didn't bother to stop playing and just enjoyed the pleasant wet warmth that unexpectedly surrounded my sensitive little genitals. To my surprise, Michael came back later and played with us in the sandpit for a few hours. When it began to get dark, he left us with a cheery wave. "See you babies tomorrow, maybe," he said with a cheeky departing grin, ignoring my quick frown of annoyance.

Mummy checked our nappies when she came out to unleash us, and I had to help change Angelica first because her sagging pink diaper was wet and messy. While I was helping Mummy clean her poopy little bottom with baby wipes, I wet my nappies again without a second thought. I was drenched by the time Mummy changed me. We then ate dinner with me secured in my highchair again, and immediately afterwards, Angie and I shared a bubble bath. I was surprised to find my nappy was already wet when Mummy took it off at bath time. I was puzzled. I didn't remember wetting it.

Promptly at seven we were put down for the night, and Mummy even read us a Dr Seuss bedtime story. I found that if I stuffed the plush pink teddy between my knees when I lay on my side, my thighs didn't feel too uncomfortable because of the bulky nappy between them. I slept in Angie's - and now my bedroom, curled up on my side in the pink crib. It wasn't really too cramped, and I managed to sleep all right - if I didn't stretch out my legs all the way. Luckily for me I was short for a thirteen-year-old, and slept through the night relatively undisturbed by my odd surroundings.

to be continued in chapter 3. Please post a comment here if you want to read more.
Baby Jennie

Chapter 3. Justine the Babysitter

When I awoke Sunday morning and focused on the pink-painted bars surrounding me, I didn't even bother trying to hold in my wee-wees. I lay on my back in the crib and relaxed with a sigh of mixed relief and resignation, letting the hot stream freely gush into my warm diaper. I didn’t even notice that my nappy was already drenched. I figured it would be better to have Mummy change me when she let me out of the crib first thing, rather than sit in a soggy cooling nappy while eating breakfast locked in the highchair. I began to enjoy the familiar warmth as the wee-wees flowed across my tummy and trickled in rivulets around my peenie and sack, and then giggled in spite of my odd situation. The hot stream tickled as it ran down between my sensitive botty cheeks, eventually soaking into the thirsty terry nappies pinned snugly around me.

The clinging wet warmth was somehow comforting around my crotch and bottom, and as the sweet ammonia smell crept up to my nostrils, I must have drifted back to sleep. Some time later Mummy waltzed into our Nursery and woke up Angie, then lowered the side rail of my crib with a clatter that brought me groggily awake. Mummy loudly announced that today we would dress Angie first. She patted my warm wet crotch and lifted me down from the cot.

Since it was Sunday, the whole family would be attending church as usual. I again had the honour of being 'Mummy's little helper.' I assisted Mummy while she changed Angie's wet and slightly poop-stained cloth night nappy. Mummy expertly cleaned up my messy sister's dirty bottom and crotch while I held the nappy sack open for her to dump the smelly wipes inside. I was surprised when I felt another hot stream suddenly fill my cooling wet nappy with fresh warmth, as I hadn't even realised I had any more inside me. But I tried not to let Mummy know I was soaking myself like a baby as I quietly stood beside her. I discretely spread my thighs a little wider, giving the thick crotch of my droopy warm nappy more room to absorb my hot fresh wetties.

After I helped spread the pleasantly-perfumed talcum powder over Angie's front and back creases, Mummy taped her into a fresh pink disposable diaper. This was covered with some tight pearlescent-pink plastic panties, followed by her white, ruffle-bottomed ribbed tights. Mummy then dressed Angie in a cute white layered petticoat, and then a long-sleeved, lavender cotton, Empire-line dress - both of which barely covered her protruding, frill-laden bottom. Finally my sister wore a pair of shiny, black patent leather, T-strap shoes, which Mummy fastened with tiny gold buckles. If past experience of our matching outfits was any indication, I didn't like the look of this! When she finished dressing Angie, Mummy ordered me to hop up on the changing table so I could have my wet nappies changed. How did she know I was wet this morning? She hadn't performed her usual wetness-check.

Mummy pulled down my glistening plastic panties, unpinned my drenched nappies, and tossed them in the bucket at the foot of the change table. After a thorough wipe-down, followed by oil and powder, I was pinned into the usual two thick cloth nappies. Mummy pulled some shiny pearlescent-pink vinyl panties - like Angie's - over the top, and tucked in the leg bands around the crotch of my bulky swaddling. I looked down at the huge fluffy nappies pinned tightly over my hips and whined in annoyance, daring to ask; "Aw Mummy? Why can't I wear a disposable diaper today, like Angie?"

It occurred to me what I was requesting as Mummy helped me sit up; like I would really be happier wearing disposable diapers instead of cloth nappies. I really wanted to wear my own panties - I mean, underpants. Mummy condescendingly explained that a bigger baby like me normally needed the extra protection offered by the thicker, more absorbent cloth nappies, and added; "I also want to make it very evident to Angie that her new baby sister always has her nappies on, even under her pretty dresses."

Mummy selected another larger pair of white ribbed tights from a plastic bag on top of the dresser, and started sliding them over my feet and lower legs. After she fitted them on my feet and smoothed them up to my knees, she helped me to hop down from the table. She pulled the stretchy hose up the rest of the way with great difficulty over my thickly-diapered rear. Sewn across the seat of my tights rippled layer upon layer of elaborate frilly white lace ruffles.

Seeing where this was headed, I hesitantly asked her: "Mummy? You aren't going to make me wear a dress to Church like Angie, are you?" Silence. "You can't make me!" I muttered almost defiantly.
Calmly Mummy responded, "You have a choice, dear. You can either wear a pretty dress like your sister, or we can take you to Church dressed like that! In those frilly tights, nappies, and pink baby panties. Which is it to be, baby?" Talk about a choice! With my bottom lip protruding again, I reluctantly agreed that I would wear a dress. She disappeared into the Nursery walk-in closet and produced a new, snow-white nylon petticoat in my size, with three layers of stiff white tulle underskirts edged with lavish lace trim.

For one electrifying moment I thought she was bringing out one of the ballerina tutus I had worn at my neighbour Sally's house. Sally lives in the house behind ours with her kid sister Daisy, and they have a huge closet full of dress-up play clothes, including several old ballet tutus. It was Sally's Mummy who convinced me start growing my hair again, telling me how beautiful my hair was, and that I would easily pass for a pretty girl if my hair was long like her daughters. But I felt certain Mummy didn't know about the pretend 'ballet lessons' at the girls' place last year. They only lasted a few months, anyway. Then I realised the new frothy petticoat was just the same as Angelica's, and the knot of tension in my stomach gradually unwound.

"Hold your arms up honey, so I can slip this over your head first," Mummy ordered with a calming smile. When the silky bodice of the petticoat had slithered liquidly into place, she returned to the closet and produced a brand-new, little girl's lavender cotton dress in my size. It had a wide white Peter Pan collar and wrist-length puffy sleeves trimmed with white lace. Once again with my arms compliantly raised in the air, Mummy gently lowered the dress over my head, guiding my hands through the tight elastic-cuffed sleeves. The flounced hemline barely fell to my mid-thighs, and flared out in all directions because of the stiff petties underneath. When the full skirts had settled into place over my bouncing frothy petticoats, she fastened what seemed like a dozen tiny buttons up the back of the dress, all the way to the nape of my neck.

There was a wide dark purple satin sash sewn under the breast, with long pieces dangling down either side. Mummy collected the shiny purple ends, drew them tightly together, and tied them in a large floppy bow behind my back, making my short dress ride up even higher. She then tied some long purple satin ribbons around my freshly braided pigtails, matching the shiny waist sash. Finally a brand-new pair of classic little girl's, glossy black patent shoes were fitted on my stockinged feet, and the thin straps buckled across my insteps to secure them. It didn't surprise me to discover the gleaming Maryjanes fitted my petite feet perfectly. Somehow the shiny shoes made my footsies look even smaller and daintier than usual.

Standing back, Mummy inspected me with a critical eye. She looked unmistakably pleased with my feminised juvenile appearance. "Oh baby! You really do make the prettiest little girl!" Mummy exclaimed with a delighted smile. "You and Angie look just darling together in your matching lavender frocks. I'm going to dress for church now, so you 'girls' go wait in the living room. Don't muss your hair, and mind you keep those pretty dresses clean!" Despite the secret thrill I felt when Mummy called me a girl, I frowned peevishly but let it slide. I took Angie's hand and we obediently toddled downstairs into the living room hand-in-hand. When Daddy spied us he gave us an appreciative wolf whistle and told us how gorgeous we both looked. Of course Angie enjoyed all the attention immensely, and her happy smile was very infectious.

About twenty minutes later Mummy waltzed into the room wearing a lavender dress similar to ours, but much more mature in design. Now I was part of a mother-daughter-'daughter' look-alike set! We walked out to the car and Daddy drove us to church, with me feverishly worrying every minute of the short journey. I only knew a few families at our church, and fervently prayed I wouldn't meet any of them at today's service as Daddy parked his silver Ford. I was so nervous, I started wetting my nappy as soon as I was lifted out of the back seat, the scalding hot wee-wees pouring uncontrollably out of my peenie as Mummy dragged me along by one hand. As it turned out, I needn't have worried so much. Mummy took Angie's hand too, and escorted us around the back to the rectory, to a huge carved oak door with 'Kindergarten Nursery' written on a sheet of paper pinned to the front.

Mummy spoke quietly for a short time with one of the two old women who were apparently in charge, and then came back and informed us that she would return when the service was over. That's when I found out that I was supposed to remain with the 'five-year-olds and under,' in the Church Kindergarten Nursery! Considering my current state of dress, it was probably preferable to attending normal Sunday school with kids my own age. There were already about a dozen small children scattered about the spacious sunny room, most of whom appeared to be wearing nappies like Angie and me.

I quickly sat down on the carpeted floor with Angie and a couple of two and three-year-old girls she knew, and started listlessly playing with some dolls. There was nothing much else to do, and I was trying to avoid attracting any unwanted attention. I didn't realise that when I crawled around on the floor like the other little girls, the back of my short dress rode up over my stiff petties, so everyone could easily see my big diapered bottom bulging distinctly beneath the clinging stretchy ruffled tights. One little girl whose name I think was Tracy, asked me why I was so big and still wearing nappies? I felt my cheeks blush warmly with embarrassment. I mumbled that I was only four years old and she looked momentarily confused. When I determinedly ignored her and continued playing with my dolly, she toddled away. It helped that kids her age are not so bright.

While I was still kneeling on the floor, a beautiful slender girl who appeared to be around fifteen or sixteen walked into the Nursery like she owned the place. I later found out Justine was a regular volunteer assistant at the church, but when the striking teenager first spotted me, her delicate arched eyebrows rose abruptly. She disdainfully tossed back her waist-length mane of dark red hair. She strode over to me at once and quietly demanded to know what a big girl like me was doing here in the Nursery with the pre-schoolers and toddlers. Her big brown eyes sparkled attractively and her full bosom heaved distractingly beneath the silky white chemise she wore under her prim pink jacket. How was I going to explain to a girl maybe only two or three years older than myself, that I was really a teenage boy dressed like a toddler girl and wearing wet nappies? Could I hide the fact that I was a boy? Maybe she would just think I was retarded, or something.

"I… I… I'm with my sister, Angie. That's Angie over there," I squeaked in stuttering terror, pointing to my little sister sitting nearby cradling a dolly. I saw her examine Angie’s clothing and realise we were wearing matching outfits. I was surprised when the attractive girl turned back and smiled warmly down at me, her gorgeous face lighting up like a Christmas tree. I remained on my hands and knees and stared up at her in silence, entranced by her beauty. Her eyes were like two huge chocolate pools fringed by impossibly-long black lashes, her smiling pink-painted mouth full and inviting.

"How cute! You girls look like twins. What's your name, darling?" She asked me, squatting beside my kneeling form so I could almost see up her short pink skirt. With effort I dragged my eyes away from that fascinating sight to look her in the face, even as I felt my peenie stiffen within the warm wet folds of my diaper. I hadn't even thought about answering that question!
"Je- Jer- Jennie," I stammered softly. I certainly couldn't tell her my name was Jeremy!

"Jennie? That's a pretty name. But I see you are still diapered, and at your age! Let me check your nappy to see if you need changing, sweetie." Before I had a chance to react, the beautiful young woman reached behind me and expertly flipped up the back of my dress and petties. She swiftly tugged down the rear of my lace-lavished tights to my mid-thighs before I could crawl away, exposing my shiny pearlescent-pink baby panties to the entire room. She slid her fingers through one of the lace-trimmed leg holes to probe the crotch of my drooping diaper. Not only did she feel my wet nappy, but she accidentally discovered my balls! Her big brown eyes flew wide and her lush pink mouth fell open in shock before she quickly withdrew her hand.

"You're a boy!" she declared in a stunned hushed voice, before she automatically raised her hand to her face. She sniffed the unmistakable aroma of fresh urine on her fingertips. "And you're wet, too!" She dragged me awkwardly to my feet and ordered me to hold up my dress and petties while she pulled up my tights, and then she shepherded me away from the little girls staring at me. She led me waddling wetly off to an empty tea-room to explain myself. She walked me past a worn bare kitchen bench and then turned, casually leaning her plump pink-clad derriere against the back of an old grey three-seater lounge.

When she was certain we were alone, she made me tell her my name was really Jeremy, and that I was actually thirteen years old. I explained how I was being forced by my cruel parents to help potty-train my little sister Angelica. The gorgeous teenager told me her name was Justine, and after hearing my terrible story she laughed; but she promised she would keep my shameful secret from the other children.

Her dark brown eyes glittered with merriment and her normally pale cheeks flushed rosily as I concluded my tale of woe, but she hastened to assure me afterwards, "You make quite a convincing little girl, Jeremy - or should I say, Jennie? You really do make a pretty cute little girl, you know? I initially assumed you were around six or seven years old - but that's still way too old to be playing with the other toddlers in the Nursery." Justine grinned when she asked me about how it felt to be wearing and wetting nappies, and I mumbled that I didn't like it. But then she wanted to know how I felt about wearing girl's clothes, and I didn't know how to reply. She was extremely curious about my feminised 'situation' and strangely, asked me more than once if I secretly enjoyed wearing such pretty dresses. I blushed and hesitated to answer, as I didn't want to admit my true feelings.

Instead we chatted about other things; her mother who worked full-time as a hairdresser, her mostly-absent truck-driving stepfather, and the difficulty role of being the eldest of three girls. She mentioned, “I hope you’ll be coming back next week to the Church Nursery?”
I replied, "I think that's probably likely." She smiled at me when I suddenly fell silent and went still.

I think she knew I was wetting my nappy because before I finished peeing, she grinned knowingly and boldly lifted the front of my brief lavender frock and frothy petticoats up over my tummy. She noisily patted the droopy front of my sagging nappies through my tights and baby panties and commented, “Oh baby! I can feel your nappy getting warmer!” She squeezed the warm soggy crotch of my nappy, smiling at my embarrassed confusion, then patted me right over my sensitive little tool. My little peenie started to grow harder under her firm hand, snaking erotically into the warm wet cloth as she crisply swatted my nappy front, her cupped fingers on my damp plastic panties repeatedly making that distinctive wet smacking sound.

"Ooo! You're so wet, Jennie! What a wet little baby girl you are! I think we'd better tell your Mummy to send a change of nappies for you on your next visit, Baby Jennie!" She dimpled attractively as my red face grew even hotter, but she continued to caress my growing hardness through my baby panties and warm wet nappies with quick, crisp, affectionate loud slaps. I remained frozen in place, too excited to move away from her thrilling hand while I gazed up at this smiling beauty in open-mouthed wonder. She dropped the front of my dress back in place with a start when Angie skipped in and found us, and straightened my hem and petticoats with a guilty expression. My sister sweetly begged us to join her doll's tea-party, and Justine immediately agreed we would, casting a sly smile in my direction. "Come along, Baby Jennie," she sang as she took my hand, and my sister looked askance at me.

My cheeks flushed warmly under Angelica's frank inquisitive stare. Thankfully she made no comment on my new name before turning and hurrying ahead of us into the main room. Justine led me toddling slowly outside to join my sister and her new friends, and I was grateful my billowing lavender dress and frothy petties were long enough to conceal the tenting front of my tights. Justine was grinning like stoned Cheshire cat as she introduced me as 'Baby Jennie' to the three little girls gathered around the low white plastic table, set with doll-sized hot-pink plastic cups and saucers. My pleased sister smiled contentedly when I didn't object to my new name. I shyly murmured my greetings to the pretty little girls named Susie, Stephanie and Mary, although I could feel my cheeks were still flushed pink with embarrassment. Justine handed me the infant doll I'd been playing with earlier, and I tried to talk and behave exactly like Angie and the other little girls, so no one would think I was too weird.

When the church service finally concluded, Mummy thankfully returned to collect her two babies. I blushed rosily and dropped my gaze when the beautiful Justine told Mummy she suspected her bigger baby girl had absolutely soaked her nappies. Mummy didn't seem at all surprised by the astute teen's keen observation, and simply reached under my dress and petties and pressed her cupped palm against the drooping crotch of my tights. Mummy pushed up with her hand and assessed the warm wet weight of my nappy, and while my cheeks burned with humiliation, she judged that I didn't need changing yet. She fortunately seemed non-committal when the forward young redhead boldly suggested our mother might like to bring a change of nappies for her big baby next time.

As we departed, I shyly waved goodbye to Justine and some of the little girls with whom I had enjoyed playing. Mummy glanced oddly at me when some of the friendlier little girls waved back at us and yelled, "Goodbye, Angie! Goodbye, Baby Jennie!" Thankfully she made no comment when I ducked away from her appraising stare. Things hadn't turned out as badly as I feared, thank goodness!
I frowned in concern when Mummy asked, “Baby? Are you going to take that dolly home with you?” I was stunned to realise I had been clutching a small diapered infant doll to my breast, completely unaware she was still cradled in my arms.

Mummy chuckled at my crestfallen expression as she gently prised the doll from my hands. "It's all right, baby girl," she crooned in saccharine baby talk as though to calm me. "Mummy will buy you a baby dolly all of your very own, if you really want one that badly." I blushed furiously and bit my lip to stifle a retort. I kept my humiliated gaze on the shiny black shoes peeping out from under my swaying skirt and petties. Mummy laughed and told Daddy to buckle us into our seats while she dashed back into the Nursery with the accidentally-kidnapped doll. When she eventually returned she was all smiles, and soon we were on our way.

Daddy drove us to the local family restaurant where we usually partook of our Sunday breakfast. First Daddy had a quiet word with the grey-haired manager at the front counter, and after a few minutes delay, the broadly-smiling old man led us to a table off to one side with two tall dark wooden highchairs standing nearby. Angie and I were both promptly seated in the big wooden highchairs and the attached hinged trays lowered, and our parents wheeled us closer to the table set for two. After belting us in securely and fastening bibs around our necks, Mummy and Daddy sat down and each slowly spoon-fed us our meals between bites of their own breakfast. I kept nervously glancing around like a frightened baby bird, terrified someone we knew might be seated nearby. As a result, there was food smeared all over my face and bib by the time Mummy finished feeding me.

It seemed to take forever for Mummy to scrub my face and hands clean with my bib, and she gently scolded me when I dared complain she was being too rough. On the way home, Daddy suggested that since it was such a hot sunny day, how would we like to go to Narrabeen lakes? Angie and I immediately replied in unison; "Yes please, Daddy!" I love to visit Narrabeen lakes too, and was thrilled that the location was far enough from home that we were unlikely to run into anyone we knew. "Do I have to wear nappies if I go swimming?" I asked Mummy in a hopeful voice as we turned into our driveway.

She turned around to smile down indulgently at me, before replying with an amused shake of her head; "Of course you do, you silly baby! But don't you worry, honey. Mummy bought two precious new swimsuits especially for her gorgeous little toddler girls. I'm sure you'll both love them!" She informed me somewhat gleefully. I was rather doubtful about that, and while I waited for Mummy to come and change me, I stood in the Nursery distractedly patting the warm wet bulk between my legs for reassurance.

Since I was Mummy's little helper today, I was ordered to help Angie undress first and then assist with changing her diaper. Fortunately my sister was only wet under her tight pearlescent-pink pilchers, and we soon had her scrubbed clean, freshly powdered and taped into a clean pink disposable diaper. Mummy had already changed out of her dress into her brief pink-on-white polka-dot bikini, which she wore under some tiny white flared shorts. You could see the pink polka-dots through the thin cotton material. She had tied on a revealing pink halter-top that accentuated her buxom figure and slender waist, and she looked beautiful with her long blonde hair brushed tightly back and bound in a bouncing high ponytail. She took Angie's new stretchy nylon swimsuit out of the dresser drawer and helped her put it on. It was a pale-pink one-piece bathing costume, with a short black gathered skirt attached below the snug elasticised waist. When she was dressed, Angie skipped joyfully out the door to show Daddy her pretty new cossie.

I realised with a sudden sense of shame that I was the only one left still wearing a dress and petticoats. I felt mortified until Mummy helped me disrobe, undressing me like a useless toddler and carefully removing each frothy feminine item without any assistance from me. She then helped me to climb up on the changing table so I could have my wet nappies changed, and she pulled down my pearlescent pink baby panties. The warm clinging nappies beneath were completely drenched, and I wasn't even sure if or when I had wet again. That was a scary thought! After commenting at length on my saturated state, Mummy carefully cleaned all traces of damp powder from my crotch with baby wipes, then oiled and powdered me afresh. I was surprised when she reached for the package of 'junior size six' disposable diapers beside the change table. She ripped open the top and removed one from the pink plastic wrapping, and unfolded it. "Since we’re going to be at the beach all afternoon, I think this would be a good time for you to wear a disposable diaper," she informed me.

I lay still as she tightly taped the crinkling pastel-pink disposable diaper around my loins, secretly thrilled by this turn of events. Even though it was a thick disposable, it actually felt like regular underwear compared to the bulky cloth nappies I’d been forced to wear for the last two days. She went to the dresser and took another pink bathing suit out of the drawer, then shook it out in front of her to show me, smiling happily. "Isn't this the cutest little bathing suit you've ever seen?" Mummy gushed, holding the feminine one-piece swimsuit stretched out against my small body.

It was primarily musk-pink, consisting of a stretchy puckered top half with a rear zip, and under the frilly baby-pink gathered skirt drooped a big ballooning bottom with tight elasticised leg holes. There was a line of cute yellow cartoon duckies printed around the middle, which made it look even more juvenile. I worried that the short flared skirt would barely cover my padded bottom and crotch. Mummy knelt on the floor, and unzipped and then rolled the pink bathing suit up in her hands.

"Hop down, honey, and let's try it on you." I started to sulk and whine, realising the bathing suit I was supposed to wear was more babyish-looking than any I'd ever seen. Even Angie's cossie looked more grown-up than mine. "Come on, my sweet baby! Hurry up, darling. We don't have all day." She started coaxing me like I was a difficult toddler, and I realised I had no choice but to obey. Scowling darkly, I slithered off the changing table in my crackling plastic-wrapped padding. I slowly waddled towards Mummy who was holding the effeminate cossie down and in position for me to step into. I tentatively placed one foot into the suit and through the opened leg hole at the bottom, then the other. Mummy started to swiftly slide it up my legs, and I had to grab her shoulders to keep from stumbling. She instructed me to bend forward and then fed my hands through the stretchy pink shoulder straps, drawing them up my slender arms and over my narrow shoulders.

When it was all the way on me, she zipped it up in back, made a few adjustments to the short ruffled skirt, and then proudly pronounced, “Oh good! It’s a fabulous fit!" I had to admit that Mummy was right. It fitted me perfectly, like all the feminine clothes she’d purchased for me so far. She made me stand in front of the full-length mirror on the back of the Nursery closet door and stretched out the seat of my suit to conceal my pastel-pink diaper. She rearranged the flounced skirt frills around my lightly padded hips to sit more attractively, smiling in approval "Gosh, darling. This suit looks just perfect on you! You look so pretty in pink," Mummy gushed, and I blushed rosily under her sincere flattery.

I was gratified to see from my reflection that I could hardly tell I was wearing a diaper underneath the cute little swimsuit skirt. When I experimentally twirled my hips back and forth, the ruffled skirt flew out so prettily, and a tentative shy smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. Mummy smiled too, as she closely observed my innocent feminine behaviour. "Run along now, baby. I just have to pack the diaper bag for you and Angie, and then we're ready to go." She gave my padded bottom a crisp smack to encourage me on my way. As I waddled out the door, the plastic shell of the disposable diaper crinkled and rustled distractingly with my every step.

Five minutes later Mummy buckled both Angie and me into the back seat of the car, and soon Daddy was driving our family to the lakes. The hot sun blasted through the windscreen and despite winding all the windows down, the car was like an oven. Angie and I almost looked like twins sitting in the back seat, wearing only our matching pink swimsuits, diapers, and pink sneakers. It took about an hour to drive to the lakeside, and I was almost glad I was wearing a diaper when I felt my bladder signalling it was full. I simply relaxed and let my hot wee-wees soak into the thick pink disposable. Unlike my cloth nappies, the gel lining rapidly absorbed the wetness and drew the moisture away from my body. For some strange reason, I felt oddly disappointed. I had come to enjoy the warm wet feeling of a soggy terry nappy wrapped snugly around my genitals, although the absorbent padding slowly grew soft and mushy between my legs and around my wriggling bottom.

There were already thousands of people ahead of us at the lakeside, judging by the number of cars in the parking lot. It took ages to find a place to park, and Angie and I were almost melting by the time Mummy and Daddy opened the doors and released us from our seatbelts. Daddy unpacked the stroller from the trunk and set it up, and then plopped Angie into the low seat. He took out the blanket, towels and cooler, and arranged them on the stroller's bottom tray so they wouldn't have to be carried. Daddy started pushing the stroller, and Mummy ordered me to come to her. "It's a pity we don't have a stroller big enough to fit you, baby," she wryly commented, but I didn't think she really meant anything by it. She then picked me up and carried me on her hip with my legs around her waist, holding me easily with one hand under my damp padded bottom like I was a big toddler. In her free hand she carried Angie's and my packed pink diaper bag. We headed for the crowded beach and we had to walk for about five minutes, but finally found a more secluded spot to spread our rubber-backed tartan rug.

Mummy and Daddy took off their outer clothing so they only had their bathing suits on, too. "Do you girls want to go swimming straight away?" Mummy asked, as she helped us untie and remove our sneakers.
Naturally we both loudly chorused, "Yes please, Mummy!"
"Before you go in the water, I have to put on your swimming caps," Mummy primly insisted, kneeling on the red tartan picnic blanket. She opened the voluminous diaper bag and took out a small pastel-pink cap for Angie, and fastened it snugly on her head. She reached into the change bag again and pulled out a musk-pink rubber swim cap for me. "Come here, sweetie. Let Mummy put this pretty cap on your head. We don't you want you to get your hair tangled when it's wet. Really, you should have worn a swim cap last season, darling, with those gorgeous long locks of yours."

After taking out my dangly purple hair ribbons, Mummy stretched the tight pink cap over my head, thankfully concealing my feminine braided pigtails. The strap hanging down from the right side was pulled under my chin and snapped securely closed beside my left ear. It felt really weird to have my head encased in tight clinging rubber. Things sounded different too, since my ears were completely covered. Mummy smeared sunscreen first on Angelica, covering every inch of exposed flesh with the thick white cream. She then did the same for me, treating me exactly like my toddler sister and not permitting me to help in any way. I was growing tired of being treated like a useless infant all the time, and was muttering under my breath and scowling in annoyance by the time Mummy finished spreading the viscous white goo on my arms and legs. Mummy's smile slowly faded and her olive-green eyes had grown hard while she stood and wiped the excess cream from her hands onto her thighs.

"Okay girls, you can go play in the water, but don't go in too deep. I am counting on you, Jennie, to keep a close eye on your sister." She smiled at my shocked expression and continued scathingly, "That is what you told that lovely girl Justine your name was, didn't you, darling? And I hear all your little playmates in the Church Nursery call you 'Baby Jennie'? How sweet!" She arched a single knowing eyebrow as my cheeks blazed with humiliation, holding my gaze until my crimson face fell in subjugation. In a mortified haze I sullenly promised Mummy that I would be careful, and we headed for the shallow water. Angie held my hand tightly and squeezed it reassuringly, and she told me she preferred the name Jennie for me while I absent-mindedly dug my toes into the cold wet sand. When I bit my bottom lip in embarrassment and didn't respond, she said she was going to call me that all the time from now on.

We played and splashed in the cool waist-deep water for about half an hour, and then returned to where Mummy and Daddy were sunning themselves. My disposable must have soaked up about two litres of lake, but my tight one-piece swimsuit helped hold the hefty load in place. When I sat down on the dry sand off to one side of the picnic blanket, there was an audible 'squish' as the excess water was forced out of my bulging diaper. Angie followed suit and squished down beside me, and we giggled and started making castles and tunnels in the damp sand we'd created with our overflowing diapers. It wasn't long before two other pretty little girls came strolling along the water's edge. They approached us and politely asked if they could join us and help decorate our sandcastles with shells and stuff.

Angie eagerly nodded assent and I hesitantly agreed. The friendly girls told us their names and ages, and pointed to where their parents were sunning themselves nearby. Becky said she was aged seven, and Jessica was six and a half, although both girls were a shade taller than me. Looking closely at Angie to check her reaction, I haltingly introduced us as Jennie and Angie. My sister only smiled sunnily when I told the girls my new feminine name, and I gave an inward sigh of relief. They asked about us, and I told them I was six years old and Angie three, and indicated our parents lying on the nearby rug. I didn't think they were dumb enough to think I was four, and the beautiful Justine from our Church Nursery had assured me she could have easily mistaken me for a six or seven-year-old girl.

After playing happily together for about half an hour, I could tell that Becky was dying to question me about something. Finally she gathered the nerve to ask; "Jennie, are you wearing a diaper under your cossie?" I had no choice but to admit the truth, since the sagging saturated disposable was fairly obvious beneath my snug swimming costume.
My cheeks turned pink with embarrassment as I explained, "Of course, I don't really need diapers - I'm just wearing one to make Angie feel better, since she still has to wear them." I hoped my blushing red cheeks didn't give away that I was lying, and ducked my head in shame.
Becky fell silent for a long moment, but then told me, "That's really sweet of you, to be so kind and thoughtful towards your little sister." After smiling in approval, she suggested I dig a tunnel to join the two castles she had directed the other girls to decorate. Keen to avoid any more embarrassing questions, I knelt to obey her directions.

About five minutes later I felt a sharp cramp in my tummy, and realised my regular morning bowel movement must soon be inevitable. I gave a shudder as I barely repressed the instinctive urge to just let go in my cold saturated diaper, squeezing my botty-hole shut in quiet desperation. I didn't want to soil myself like a total baby in front of these two cute little girls! I held off for as long as I could, but then I realised that I couldn't hold back the poo-poos any longer. Glancing around in anguish at my preoccupied sister and the busily playing girls, I stood and discretely waddled a few feet off to one side. The first firm fat log was already forcing my poo-poo hole open, the tip of it sliding out a little further with my every tentative step. Like a mouse with his nose already poking out of a mouse hole, I knew there was no stopping it. I kept my back to the gaily chattering girls, spread my feet wide and squatted slightly. My cheeks turned pink from a combination of shame and effort while I helplessly soiled my diaper, the first solid turd relentlessly sliding out of me inch by inch. I tried not to make it too obvious to the others what I was doing, when I needed to squat down lower to completely relax open my anal sphincter.

I took a deep breath and held it until my pink cheeks turned red, and then grunted quietly as I began to bear down. After an embarrassing muffled fart, poop seemed to actually explode from my straining botty-hole in a semi-solid rush. There was a muted gurgling rumble from inside my swimsuit bottom, and abruptly the rear of my cold wet diaper was full of hot squishy poo-poos. Slippery mess forced its way up my back and between my spread legs, surrounding my chilled shrivelled sack with soft clinging warmth. The seat of my snug swimsuit was soon stretched taut by the heavy load in the rear, but no one appeared to notice my humiliating infantile predicament. The rich, fruity-herb smell of a fresh bowel movement wafted up around my face like a sickly-sweet cloud, but it didn't smell too bad after the first few moments.

I tentatively straightened my bowed knees and stood upright. The warm thick mud settling between my thighs clung moistly to my sensitive areas, so lovely and hot compared to the rest of my cold wet diaper. The familiar aroma of my fresh poop was somehow comforting, too, so while the girls were there, I decided to delay asking Mummy for a nappy change, and crouched down to continue playing in the sand. I tried to ignore the delightful warm muddy layer that squished and settled comfortingly around my groin, and more hot poop squirted up my back when I knelt lower to finish digging my tunnel.

Within minutes, Becky and Jessica must have smelled that someone had pooped in their panties. Unnoticed by me, Becky walked over behind Angie and firmly patted the rear of her swimsuit, at once discovering my sister's soggy diaper was clearly empty. Angie stood and then watched in silence while the bossy bigger girl stepped over behind me while I was distracted and digging deep in the sand, my huge diapered bottom sticking up as though begging for her attention.

Becky quietly knelt behind me and inquisitively probed my mushy rear end. She shrieked, "Gosh, Jennie! You pooped in your diaper! I thought you said you didn't really need to wear nappies?" She ran her palm around over my bulging swimsuit bottom and started describing to the others the size of the mess I'd accidentally made in my diaper. "Oh my! There's a huge lump in the back of your diaper!" she exclaimed. "You've filled your diaper with poop! Look everyone! Look at Jennie’s poo-poo parcel!" She gave the obvious bulge a hefty swat, mashing it against my sensitive opening. I could contain my emotions no longer and I actually started weeping from shame and embarrassment. Mummy heard my distressed sobs and jumped to her feet. She snatched off her sunglasses, hurrying over to ask us what was wrong.

My tactless sister loudly informed everyone within earshot, "Mummy, Baby Jennie had another messy accident! She did a poo-poo in her nappy again!" While I knelt before them sniffling and cringing in shame, Mummy crouched down behind me. She probed my rear end to confirm for herself that I’d soiled myself, patting my bulging bottom firmly to assess the size of my hefty load. Clucking soothingly to me to calm my tears, Mummy took me by the hand and helped me to my feet. She led me waddling slowly over to the red tartan blanket where my parents had been sunbathing.

Reaching into the diaper bag, she brought out the familiar pink vinyl-backed changing mat and spread it out flat on the dry sand beside the blanket. "There, there, Baby Jennie! It's alright! Dry those tears, sweetie. Let's take your bathing suit off first, baby, and we'll have your messy bot-bot cleaned up in a jiffy." Angie and the other two girls were standing beside us, closely observing Mummy's familiar actions as she laid out the powder, sacks and wipes beside her on the picnic rug, in preparation for my diaper change.

"Please don't change my diaper in the middle of the beach? Not here in front of everyone, please Mummy!" I begged her in a fierce whisper, knuckling away the embarrassing tears springing unbidden from my eyes. But apparently she wasn't listening, or she just didn't care about my feelings.
“Shh baby girl, shh! It’s alright honey. Mummy will change your messy nappy and have you cleaned up and back playing with your little girlfriends in two shakes of a lamb’s tail. Stand still for Mummy, Baby Jennie.”

She unzipped the back of my cossie, slid the shoulder straps aside, and started pulling my bathing suit down to my knees, then she took it all the way off. My sodden pink disposable diaper was sagging badly between my splayed thighs, and there were yucky brown smears on the puffy elastic leg gathers around the crotch. I was ordered to lie down on the changing mat, which I slowly did. Mummy proceeded to rip away the tapes, and used the front half of the soggy yellowed diaper to scrape away most of the sticky brown mess from my bottom and groin. I was so embarrassed, my tiny penis shrank away to almost nothing. Becky and Jessica were wide-eyed in astonishment when they spied my limp little organ dangling between my mucky brown-stained thighs.

Mummy used several handfuls of baby wipes to clean my messy bottom. Each stained wipe was carefully folded and dumped in a nappy sack, the process repeated until she was satisfied.. Mummy powdered me all over and then securely taped a fresh pink diaper around my loins. "It sure is lucky we brought your disposable diapers for you today, Baby Jennie. This certainly would’ve been much more difficult with your normal cloth nappies." I was told to stand up and Mummy helped me put my bathing suit back on, and then zipped it closed up the back.

"There you are, Baby Jennie! There! That wasn't so bad, was it sweetie?" Mummy cooed maternally, watching my tear-filled eyes calculatingly as she fluffed out my swimsuit skirt over my puffy padded rear. How could I tell her that I had never been so humiliated in my life? She took two sippy-cups filled with icy-cold watered-down apple juice from the blue cooler and handed them to Angie and me, telling us to drink them and then return the cups to her.

Becky approached me after my embarrassing diaper change and gave me a forgiving smile. She kindly assured me, “Relax Baby Jennie! Jessie and I don’t care that that you’re really a little boy who still needs nappies. It doesn’t matter.” Not knowing what to do, I simply sucked on the spout of my pink sippy-cup and kept swallowing, my cheeks rosy with shame. She continued, "I like the name Baby Jennie for you. It's cute! You make a very pretty little girl, you know? We’ll still play with you - if you want us to." For some strange reason her generous offer and kind comments comforted me greatly, and I managed to sniffle back my tears.

She took my hand and led me back to the sandcastles, helping me to my knees at the spot where my digging had been interrupted by her humiliating discovery. We played in relative silence for a short while, each of us lost in our own thoughts, although the other girls were soon chattering brightly to each other again. But I was surprised a little later when Jessica discretely asked me, "Baby Jennie? Does Angelica only wear diapers to make you feel better, and not the other way around?"
Pouting a little resentfully I explained to her; "No! Angie still needs to wear her nappies, too!" I gratefully waddled away when Mummy called me over to refill my sippy-cup.

We continued to play quietly together for another hour or so, until Daddy announced it was time for us to leave. Angie and I had both saturated our diapers by the time Mummy next checked us, and she decided to change us before we packed up to return home. She undressed Angie and removed her wet diaper on the change mat first, and I felt relieved when Becky and Jessica waved us goodbye, and they wandered off to join their parents nearby before it was my turn. Luckily I didn't see the girls telling their parents about me and pointing to where I was lying down being changed. Their parents sat up and watched with unconcealed interest while Mummy removed my soggy wet diaper, cleaned my damp loins with baby wipes, and powdered me afresh. I barely noticed the grown-ups watching until Mummy stood me up to tug my tight swimsuit over my fluffy clean diaper, and then I saw them all staring at me. My cheeks flamed red again with humiliation, but no-one laughed or pointed at me, to my relief.

I had to admit that other than my embarrassing 'pooping incident' and the humiliating diaper changes in front of the girls, I had a fine time playing with Angie and the other little girls at the beach. I could never tell Michael or my other male friends that, of course. Daddy bought everyone some barbequed chicken and fried chips as soon as we left the car park, and Angie and I ate our lunch on the way home while strapped in the back seat of the car. I thirstily guzzled down my can of soft drink, and then greedily finished Angie's lemonade as well.

Angelica and I fell asleep soon after we finished eating, and we didn't wake until Mummy and Daddy were lifting us out of the car and carrying us inside. Mummy decided to change me first, since I was the wettest. After a relaxing hot bath, she pinned me into some clean cloth nappies, dressed me in my pink baby panties and a stretchy pink onesie, and then lowered me into the cot. I was already locked in my crib, wet and asleep before Mummy finished drying Angie. I didn't even wake when she diapered and dressed my little sister in her pyjamas on the change table a few feet from my cot, before tucking her into bed as well for our afternoon nap.

To be continued in chapter 4. Please keep those comments coming if you want to read more.
Hugs from Baby Jennie

synopsis. After spending a day and two nights diapered and dressed like a little girl, Jeremy begins to accept his fate. His mother suspects he might be unnaturally excited by his sissy-baby treatment and threatens to punish him further.

Chapter 4. Caught In The Act

When I woke up on my back, my nappy was a warm wet weight on my loins. I realised with a start that I was still wetting. I relaxed and enjoyed the spreading warmth. As my hot flow trickled to a halt I rolled onto my front, enjoying the way the drenched cloth clung to the curves of my behind like a warm moist hand. I realised I must have saturated my nappy front-to-back! A faint smell of urine escaped the tight elastic waistband of my baby panties when I rolled over, wafting up to my nostrils like a familiar sweet perfume. Without any conscious volition, my peenie started to stiffen inside my delightful warm swaddling. I gently rocked back and forth on the front of my bulky wet nappy. The saturated cloth seemed to wrap itself around me and as my sensitive little stiffie grew, it slid into a warm soggy groove that seemed ideal for the purpose. The noisy vinyl panties crinkled softly and the protective plastic mattress cover crackled lightly as I thrust my hips up and down, loving the thrilling sensations coming from inside my humid diaper. I had no idea that Mummy had been silently watching my tell-tale thrusting movements from the Nursery doorway for several long minutes.

I froze still as a statue when Mummy loudly snapped on the Nursery ceiling light and strode into the room. She noisily threw back the curtains to let in the bright afternoon sunshine, making me blink furiously. When she ignored me and decided to check Angie's nappy first, I gave a muted sigh of thanks. Lying on my side in my crib, I watched through the wooden bars in pink-cheeked silence while Mummy removed Angelica's wet diaper on the change table. She cleaned her up with a handful of wipes and then dusted her crotch and bottom with the pleasantly-perfumed baby powder. She dressed my sister in a long-sleeved white t-shirt as it had turned a little cool, and then a pastel-pink sleeveless corduroy smock dress that fell almost to her knees. A pair of frilly white anklet socks were tugged onto her tiny feet and with her pink sneakers tied in place, Angelica was lifted down from the change table all ready to play.

By the time my blank-faced Mummy stepped on the release lever and lowered the crib rail to lift me out, my embarrassing erection had thankfully dwindled into insignificance. I meekly lay on my back on the change table, avoiding my mother's cool calculating stare as she silently unclipped my onesie crotch and removed my glistening pink plastic panties. She remained cold and aloof while she unpinned my drenched nappy and dumped it the nappy bucket. I was pleased that my stiffie didn't return when she wiped me down with some cold baby wipes or when she massaged the cool baby oil into my sensitive crotch and bottom. But I felt strangely grateful to be safely pinned into my thick fluffy nappies again, as they did help conceal the unwanted erections that kept unexpectedly recurring.

Mummy wordlessly dressed me in one of my normal white, long sleeved t-shirts. For the first time I realised that even before my diaper punishment, my sister and I often wore similar clothes. But the identical pink corduroy smock dress she slipped over my obediently raised arms and submissively bowed head was brand-new. Angie attentively watched our mother's every move with a pleased smile etched on her pretty face, and I sulked quietly when my mother slipped some frilly white anklet socks on my feet and tied my pink sandshoes in place for me like I was incapable of doing it myself.

Angie and I decided we were too tired to play outside that afternoon, but I grumbled resentfully when my sister told Mummy she wanted us to play with her Barbie dolls in the sunroom instead. Mummy shot me a brief admonishing glare and swiftly assured Angie, "Your sister Baby Jennie would love to play dolls with you, sweetheart!" She sent my delighted sister off to gather her doll collection and while she was absent, Mummy bent down and grabbed my shoulders and gave me a quick warning shake. She cautioned me to play nicely with Angie, no matter what silly games my dumb little sister wanted to play. "This is all your own fault, little one. Remember? So you play Barbies with your little sister like a good little girl, Baby Jennie. Or maybe you would rather Mummy took you for a stroll down to the local park, while pushing one of Angelica's baby dollies in a toy pram?"

I frantically shook my head in denial as my nappy unexpectedly grew warm again around my crotch. I bit my bottom lip in anguish but tried to not let it show as I freely emptied my bladder. It amazed me that Mummy couldn't hear the loud hissing noises emanating from inside my baby panties, despite the fact that she was standing right beside me. I played with Angelica and her dumb dolls for the rest of the afternoon, and although I was a bit cranky at first, my sister kept making up these crazy situations for Barbie and Skipper (she was my doll) to get out of. By the time it grew dark outside, I had to admit I'd been having fun.

Mummy occasionally wandered into the sunroom to check on us, and each time she would lift our dresses and slip a searching finger inside our plastic panties to check for wetness. She gave us sippy-cups full of watered-down juice to drink; a pink one for me, and a purple cup for Angie. I didn't realise Mummy had refilled our cups several times until I saw her walk into the kitchen with our half-drained vessels, and discretely return with them freshly-filled a few moments later. She never once asked us if we wanted or needed more to drink. It just seemed that there was always a full sippy-cup nearby to slake our ever-present thirst. I was already wet the first time Mummy checked my nappy, but she confidently murmured that I could last another hour or two before I needed changing. Similarly Angie's disposable was wet each time Mummy checked her, but she was usually only changed after every second or third diaper-check, anyway.

We ate fish and chips and salad for dinner, with me locked in my highchair as usual, but at least I was allowed to feed myself with my fingers like everybody else. As soon as we had finished eating and drained our sippy-cups, Angie and I had our faces and hands scrubbed clean, and then our bibs removed. I was exhausted that night, and barely raised a protest when Mummy took me upstairs to the Nursery. She led me along by one hand like a useless pre-schooler, practically dragging me into the bathroom. She removed my drenched diaper in the en-suite and plopped me in the hot tub alongside my giggling little sister. After scrubbing Angie clean, she washed me all over like I was a helpless infant too. Mummy dried me as Daddy towelled Angie dry. Mummy led us both trudging naked into the Nursery where we were to be put down for the night, and my toes dragged along the carpet every shuffled step of the way. I whined irritably that I was too tired to help Mummy prepare Angie for bed. I flopped face-down on my sister's bed like a cranky toddler until it was my turn to be diapered for the night. I couldn't even muster a protest when Mummy tucked the pink bear and my doll Skipper in bed beside me, and I was sound asleep in my cot before I knew it.

The first week of my new 'diaper-hood' passed more swiftly than I would have expected. I no longer bothered to protest about wearing toddler girl clothes, frilly baby panties and the thick cloth nappies day and night. I figured my objections were futile, anyway. During the first few days my friend Michael came over most mornings and played with us in our backyard, even though I was a diapered little girlto all outward appearances, including my new name. At first he snickered and grimaced every time he called me 'Baby Jennie.' But as each day passed, he seemed to forget I was ever called anything else. As far as I know he hadn't told anyone else about my awful shameful predicament, and for that I was truly grateful. We haven't seen as much of him lately, though. Maybe he was getting bored playing with just us girls.

Every morning when I awoke my diaper was already soaked. Even so, I usually started peeing immediately - if my bladder wasn't already emptying of its own volition. As my soggy wet nappy grew warmer around my crotch, I would reach down between my legs and press the thick wad of drenched cloth more firmly against my sensitive groin. I could feel the delicious warmth of my nappy with my palm, even through my thick vinyl baby panties and the cotton onesie. As soon as the wonderfully hot flow trickled to a halt, I would enjoy the exciting sensation of my peenie swelling and growing harder in reaction. After a few minutes of patting and rubbing my cupped palm over the front of my warm nappy, and sliding the tight terry onesie over the slippery crackling baby panties, my thickening tool would gradually creep up my slippery damp tummy. Soon it would be hard and stiff, and throbbing pleasurably. Then I would collect the fluffy pink teddy from between my legs and roll face-down, and start rocking on the bulky front of my warm soggy nappy, enjoying the thrilling sensations for several joyful minutes. But soon the rocking and the clinging moist swaddling would soothe me back to sleep. That was usually how Mummy found me each morning - warm, wet, and asleep on my tummy in my baby crib, with my pink teddy tightly cuddled in my arms.

Because I no longer had to worry about needing to run to the bathroom to use the toilet, I gradually stopped thinking about it. Without intending to, I began to successfully repress the normal warning signals from my bladder by simply ignoring them. During the first few days, there would be a momentary twinge from the tip of my peenie just before the hot stream began to squirt out of me, but by the end of the week there wasn't even that. Sometimes the first inclination I had that I needed to pee was the belated realisation that my fluffy nappy crotch was already growing delightfully warm around my balls again. Similarly the acquired habit of keeping my anal sphincter tightly closed - achieved only after continuous years of rigorous potty-training - was gradually fading away. I was totally unaware that these vital muscles - like all muscles in the human body - only strengthen through continual usage. By ignoring the toilet-training habits I had at best only poorly mastered over the last few years, I was unwittingly allowing my sphincter muscle tone to slacken to dangerous levels.

But none of that concerned me when Mummy removed my warm drenched nappies each morning and lovingly cleaned and powdered my smelly pee-stained loins. I soon became accustomed to the huge fluffy wad of cloth bunched comfortingly between my thighs. Over the ensuing days my natural gait assumed a distinctly babyish rolling waddle, even when I was naked. Mummy changed me first one morning, then Angelica the next. Who ever was chosen to be Mummy's little helper first, was allowed to choose our attire for the day. I was always dressed in almost identical clothes to my baby sister. After a few days, I found I preferred wearing my heavily-flounced toddler frocks to the effeminate pink shorts and t-shirts Angie liked best. Wide-flared dresses are so much better for hiding bulky nappies, even if you do have to be careful how you sit or bend over.

In addition to becoming 'sisters', I think Angie has now become my best friend. We seemed to get along so well whenever we were together these days. And that was just about all the time, since we ate, slept, and played together constantly. Angie was totally ecstatic about our new full-time relationship. She absolutely loved having a ‘sister’ who was dressed just like her, and adored being with me all the time. Even Mummy appeared somewhat appreciative of my new toddler role, since Angie was kept preoccupied and seemed deliriously happy most of the time. My clever baby sister was also learning to help Mummy dress and undress me and change my nappies, as I in turn learned to help Mummy dress Angie and change her wet and poopy diapers.

During the working week our mother spent a few afternoons in her sewing room, usually while we were busy playing with Angie's Barbies in the sunroom. Mummy made some gorgeous matching pastel-pink, sheer cotton sundress and bloomer outfits for my sister and me. She also sewed a matching sundress for herself - but no bloomers, as her dress was longer and more mature in design. The dresses were completed by Saturday morning, and when Mummy lifted me down from the highchair after breakfast, she led us into the sewing room to try on our new outfits. I was pleased to see in the room's full-length mirror that the lace-edged hem of my new sundress fell just past the crotch of my drooping baby panties. When Mummy pulled the baggy matching bloomers over my swaddled hips and tucked the frilly elastic leg bands high up on my thighs, you could scarcely tell I was heavily diapered underneath.

While Mummy was occupied cutting some loose threads from Angie's white lace-lavished hemline with the good scissors, I stared in amazement at my attractive feminine appearance in the mirror. With my long blonde hair bound in high fluffy pigtails and the flounced pink dress billowing around the bottom of my bloomers, I really looked like a little girl! For some unknown reason my peenie started to grow thicker and harder inside my warm wet nappy, swelling to exciting fullness. Without thinking, I reached down under the lacy hemline of my filmy pink dress and frothy petticoats, and absent-mindedly caressed the moist cushiony front of my bulky damp nappies. The soft cotton bloomers slithered erotically over the slippery rustling plastic panties underneath, stimulating my erection. I briskly rubbed my open palm up and down as I marvelled at the wonderful heat radiating from my saturated nappy front.

My thrilling reverie was interrupted when Mummy sharply demanded; "Why are you touching yourself down there, Baby Jennie? Is your nappy wet again, little girl? Do you need a diaper change already?" I blushed furiously when I caught sight of Mummy's frowning face in the mirror, and I realised she and Angelica had been observing my reflection the whole time. "Come over here, little girl. Mummy wants to check your nappy," she brusquely commanded, summoning me with an imperious flick of her fingers. My cheeks burned with embarrassment as I turned away from my fascinating feminine reflection and waddled over to my stern-faced mother. "Lift up the front of your dress, little girl," she ordered sharply. She watched my guilt-ridden face carefully as she pulled the elasticised front of my bloomers and my baby panties away from my tummy, and our nostrils were assaulted by the rank ammonia odour of a heavily saturated nappy.

Mummy cried, "Pooh! I don't need to feel that nappy to know that it's drenched." My blushes intensified when she heartlessly continued, "Gosh, Baby Jennie, your wee-wee smells really strong today! I don't think you're drinking enough water, little girl." Before she took me upstairs to the Nursery, Mummy firmly grasped my hand and led me stumbling into the kitchen. I was made to swiftly drain two sippy-cups full of ice-cold water, and my little tummy was practically sloshing when she lifted me onto the change table. The only good thing was, my embarrassing erection had time to shrink to almost normal size by the time Mummy unpinned my stinky wet nappy and cleaned me down. But when she started to rub the baby oil into my little sack and between my spread legs, I was horrified to see my peenie uncontrollably thickening again. I tried in vain to will it away, and my cheeks blushed rosily as it continued to grow harder under Mummy's soft caressing hands. Her pretty face was impassive as stone while she poured the faintly perfumed powder over my embarrassing erection. I gasped in shock when she disdainfully gripped the sensitive swollen head between the tips of her thumb and forefinger, carelessly lifting my stiffie aside so she could massage the talc into my trembling tummy.

Her top lip curled in a sneer of disapproval as she raised my ankles and powdered around my bottom. I turned my flushed face away in shame from her angry glare. I actually felt grateful when she finally pinned my thick fluffy nappies in place over my swollen erection. I compliantly lifted my legs and pointed my toes so it was easier for her to thread the crackling baby panties over my feet, and helpfully raised my rear without being ordered so she could tug them up over my snugly-pinned nappy. She then slipped the frilly pink bloomers up my legs, and I automatically raised my bottom without being asked again so she could more easily slide them over my slippery plastic panties.

As soon as I let my puffy padded rear drop onto the change table, my cranky Mummy leaned over me and pressed her open palm over the tenting front of my bulky nappy. She must have been able to feel the swollen hardness beneath, even covered as it was by the many layers of thick terrycloth, my crackling plastic panties and cotton bloomers. Her olive-green eyes glittered dangerously as she informed me, "Well, Baby Jennie! Since you seem to love wearing your pretty baby frock and lacy bloomers so much, Mummy has decided to take her beautiful little girls to the park this morning! We can go for a lovely stroll and my excited little girls can show off their gorgeous new outfits."

“Oh no! Mummy, no! Please no?” I begged her. “I don’t want to!” My erection wilted in fright, and it continued to shrivel as I pleaded with her not to drag me off to our local park dressed like a diapered little girl. To my horror, I started uncontrollably urinating as soon as my peenie softened enough, the scalding-hot stream splashing over my tummy and soaking my nappy front. I think my anguished expression alerted her that something was wrong.

Mummy shot me a cruel smile and shook her head in bemused wonder when she felt the sudden blossoming of warmth through my bloomers and plastic panties. "Why Baby Jennie! Are you wetting your nappy again already, little girl? What a big baby you really are!" Her careless disappointed tone indicated she expected nothing more of me, and she wrinkled her nose in revulsion and shook her head in in dismay when she lifted me down from the change table.

"It's a good thing those nappies are so thick, isn't it, little girl?" she demanded sarcastically, as she pulled the lace-lavished bloomers higher around my waist. The warm wet cloth was pressed more firmly between my legs as I was lifted onto my tippy-toes by the force of her brutal tugging. "Mummy won't need to change Baby Jennie's wet nappy for hours yet." She removed my hair elastics and savagely brushed out my hair, making me wince and cry out in pain a few times.She ignored my whining and I didn't dare raise a hand to try and stop her. Mummy gathered my long blonde locks in two bunches on either side of my head, and gave me two high fluffy pigtails bound first with the tight pink hair elastics. She covered the plain elastics with frilly decorative elastic bands that had little strips of sheer pink chiffon sticking out attractively in all directions.

She slipped the white cotton socks with little pink lace frills back on my feet, followed by my pink sneakers, and then dressed Angie to match. When Mummy led us waddling out to the kitchen, Daddy effusively complimented us on our beautiful matching outfits and pretty hair ribbons. Despite my awful situation, I couldn't prevent a tremulous shy smile as he threw Angie and me into the air in turn and caught us, telling us all the while how stunning his little girls both looked. Mummy brusquely informed him of her decision to take us for a walk in the park. Although Daddy seemed nonplussed by Mummy's cranky manner and sour expression, he silently nodded agreement before disappearing to collect his camera and film.

With the camera strap safely looped around his neck, Daddy made us wait by the front door for a minute. When Mummy turned up clutching both our leather toddler harnesses, my bottom lip started to droop and tremble again. Daddy ignored my sulky expresion and buckled Angie's white toddler harness in place, while my grim-faced Mummy fastened the humiliating pink harness straps behind my back. I stood there silently fuming as Mummy clipped a pair of pink leather reins to the front D-rings of my harness. Angie had her white reins clipped on too, before our parents marched us out the front door. I kept my blushing face downcast and my eyes glued to the paved footpath in front of my pink sandshoes all the way down our street. Fortunately there didn't seem to be any neighbours wandering about to witness my embarrassing babyfied state.

I actually started to relax when we reached the leafy local park. I didn't recognise any of the children running around on the grass nearby. I fervently hoped our parents didn't intend taking us to the fenced-in toddlers' section, all the way at the other end of the park. That would have been too humiliating to bear! Adults strolling past us simply smiled down indulgently at the two attractive little girls in their matching pink toddler frocks and bloomers, each waddling along at the end of a pair of leather baby reins and buckled securely in their toddler harnesses. When my nappy warmed delightfully around my crotch again, I almost started to enjoy our unplanned family stroll in the bright morning sunshine.

Daddy insisted on stopping to take several photographs of his 'gorgeous toddler girls' posing on the grass in front of some bushes in full flower, in our billowing sweet pink sundresses. Several people stopped to watch us as we posed and smiled prettily for the camera under his direction, and some of those watching loudly complimented our parents on having two such beautiful little girls. My cheeks started to warm with a strange combination of humiliation and pleasure at their many kind compliments. Angie was beaming in delight, and I found it hard to stop smiling happily, too. I toyed with one of my fluffy pigtails, wondering, 'Do they really think I make a pretty little girl?'

Daddy removed our harnesses for some of the photographs, and I blushed bright pink with pleasure when he whispered in my ear, "You're being a very good little girl for Daddy today, Baby Jennie. Both my little girls look simply stunning!" When he told me to hold still afterwards so he could buckle my toddler harness back in place, I realised Daddy had started addressing me as Baby Jennie all the time, too. Without realising it, I always responded immediately when my parents called me by my feminine name. It was funny, I didn't even particularly notice when people included me with 'the girls' now. Once in a while I even thought of myself as a girl these days, now that I was dressed and acting like one all the time.

During the walk home from the park I felt like I needed to fart, but when I pushed out some wind, I followed through! My farts felt wet! Without meaning to, I started to soil my saturated nappy. I hadn't even realised I needed to do number twos. It was weird! There had been no advance warning I needed to do go to the toilet. Along with a muted flutter of sloppy wet gas, a hot lump simply oozed out of my slackened anus without any warning. More soft poop continued to seep out of me as I slowly waddled along. The tight crotch strap of my humiliating pink leather toddler harness didn't leave much room between my legs, so the hot squishy poo-poos was forced to spread sideways all over my bottom, eventually creeping moistly up my bumcrack towards the small of my back. I tried to toddle faster to hurry home, but Mummy kept a steady dragging pull on the reins that slowed my impatient pace to a crawling, wide-legged baby waddle.

The warm sloppy poo-poos squished and mashed between my thighs. It slowly crept around to the soggy front of my nappy, where it surrounded my thickening peenie with soft faecal lubricant. I could smell it now, the distinct tangy aroma of my recent bowel movent becoming more obvious with my every tortured step. I tried to keep as far away from Angie as the baby reins allowed, so that she couldn't smell that I'd had an accident. I knew the little tattle-tale would immediately tell the whole world if she caught a whiff of what I’d done. Despite my feelings of shame and humiliation, my arousal grew harder with every waddling step. In the cramped wet conditions, my thickening erection slithering erotically in the hot slimy muck oozing moistly between my legs. I glanced over my shoulder at my family behind me, realising no one could see the front of my body. I discretely began to rub the front of my bloomer panties with my cupped right palm, pressing my drenched diaper hard against my throbbing stiffie. My attention was entirely focused on the pleasurable sensations coming from inside my filthy hot wet nappy. I was barely aware of my surroundings as our parents slowly walked us the endless two blocks home.

To my distant relief we didn't meet anyone we knew on the way home either. I waited impatiently by the front door while Daddy inserted the key and unlocked it. The longer we stood out here, the greater the chance my infantile humiliation would be discovered by our nosy neighbours. When Mummy knelt to unbuckle the crotch strap of my toddler harness, she caught a whiff of the fetid air around my messy bottom. In a heartbeat she realised I had soiled myself. In a voice rich with sarcasm she loudly declared; "My, my, Baby Jennie! That nappy smells very dirty, little girl! Having you been busy making some special mud pies in your nappies for Mummy, baby girl?" I avoided Daddy's bemused brown eyes.

When she unbuckled the pink harness, Mummy held me in place by pressing her palm against the front of my clinging messy nappy. Her delicate plucked eyebrows shot up her forehead and she scowled at me in displeasure. I think she could tell I was hard and excited again inside my filthy smelly swaddling, and I ducked away from her piercing olive-green eyes. My cheeks were burning with shame as she wordlessly handed my pink toddler harness to Daddy to hang up. Mummy snatched my hand and dragged me upstairs, and she escorted me stumbling into the Nursery.

Despite her forbidding expression, she seemed pleased my new bloomers were unstained when she removed them. She undressed me and made me hang up my clean dress and petticoat in the walk-in wardrobe, ready for tomorrow. But when she lifted me onto the change table and removed my translucent pink plastic baby panties, there were nasty brown stains around the insides of both leg bands. Even worse, there was a sticky brown puddle in the saggy crotch. Mummy had to carefully dump my baby panties in the nappy bucket under the change table, and then she unpinned my disgusting poopy nappy, and lowered the heavy front with a flourish. "Pooh, Baby Jennie! What a smelly, dirty, wet baby girl you are today!" Mummy cried, as the full extent of my soiling was revealed. The pungent aroma of my recent bowel movement filled the air around us and Mummy threw open the nearby window with a grunt of annoyance.

My cheeks turned crimson with shame when I realised I was still hard and throbbing under the thick layer of stinky brown poo-poo. Mummy's silence was deafening. I turned my blushing red face away from her unblinking glare, cringing abjectly in humiliation. I was overcome with embarrassment, I felt certain my unwanted hard-on would wilt from sheer mortification - but no such luck! Mummy remained coldly silent as she viewed the bobbing little stiffie, stained with smelly fresh excrement. Her face was black as a thundercloud while she disdainfully wiped my hard-on clean with the warm saturated front of my dirty nappy. Her hands were rough and uncaring as she scraped most of the bigger lumps off my bottom into the yellowed terry towelling, and my erection slowly diminished under her savage assault.

After she cleaned most of the stinky mess from me with a handful of cool moist baby wipes, Mummy ordered me to lie still on the change table while she noisily sluiced out the badly-soiled nappies in the Nursery en-suite toilet. I heard her repeatedly rinsing them in the bathtub, muttering the whole time,then she dumped the disgusting wrung-out beige nappies in the bucket under the change table. I was grateful when Mummy immediately replaced the lid to help contain the awful stench. She insisted on hosing me down in the bathtub with the hand-held shower spray. Her hands were hard and callous when she scrubbed at my tender soiled bottom and shrinking peenie with a warm soapy washer. By the time she finished towelling me dry, I was sniffling in misery from her rough handling, although my unwelcome erection had dwindled completely.

I thankfully remained soft and shrivelled while Mummy oiled and powdered me. I actually felt grateful when my misbehaving peenie was safely pinned inside another thick comfy nappy - where it belonged. As soon as she tugged my crackling wetproof baby panties into place around my waist, I felt my tiny tool begin to dribble uncontrollably. I was strangely soothed by the familiar comforting warmth trickling out of me. Mummy stretched a pink cotton onesie over my bowed head and fed my limp hands through the sleeves without letting me assist her in any way My bladder continued to slowly empty as she snapped the crotch pieces together between my helplessly spread thighs. I was then dressed in the pair of hot-pink shortalls she'd recently bought for me. Mummy demonstrated the new snap clips she had sewn into the crotch, to make changing my nappies easier. "Just like proper baby shortalls," she commented, with a pleased smile that never reached her cold, olive-green eyes.

My nappy felt lovely and warm and wet again by the time Mummy buckled me into my highchair for lunch that afternoon. I had come to enjoy the feeling of humid warmth surrounding my sensitive loins, and my peenie started to uncontrollably thicken as she tightened the leather waist belt around me. Mummy's face was a mask of disapproval when she locked the tray in place and placed a bowl of mush in front of me. Unconsciously I rocked my bottom backward and forward on the wonderfully warm wet cloth bunched under me, making a delightful discovery. Underneath the highchair tray was a wide wooden centre strut, which bolted in place into the seat between my wide-splayed thighs.

As I rocked forward, I discovered that my little stiffie pressed into the soggy warm cloth trapped between the wooden strut, the leather crotch strap, and my tummy. Mummy didn't seem to notice, so I continued to contentedly rock my hips backwards and forwards. I pressed my throbbing, wet nappy-wrapped hard-on against the wooden strut, while she fastened a bib around my neck and started spooning baby food into my mouth. I dreamily gazed into the distance, lost in my own pleasurable thoughts as she crisply ordered, "Open your mouth wide, Baby Jennie. Eat up! That's it. Good baby! Eat it all up for Mummy like a good little girl. That's right! Open wide. Good baby. Chew. Good girl, Baby Jennie! Open up..."

Totally preoccupied with amazing feelings coming from inside my hot wet nappy, my mouth automatically opened and closed according to Mummy's humiliating instructions. Before I knew it, she had shovelled two large jars of tasteless pureed toddler food between my smeared lips while I 'discretely' rocked and rolled in my highchair. I didn't even notice Angie hadn't been made to wear a bib today. My baby sister had been allowed to feed herself a cut-up sandwich while she silently watched Mummy spoon-feed me my infantile lunch. Mummy insisted on wiping my messy face down with my bib before she let me have a drink of juice from my pink sippy-cup. While I was sucking on the pink plastic spout, I continued to gently thrust my excited stiffie against the wooden strut between my splayed thighs, thinking no one had noticed. As soon as my sippy-cup was empty, Mummy snatched it from my grasp. She callously scrubbed my face with a warm soapy washcloth until I whimpered and blubbered in discomfort. "Baby Jennie is such a messy eater," she disdainfully scolded me, easily defeating my half-hearted efforts to avoid her ruthless grasp. I didn't realise the discomfort had made my thrilling erection dwindle. Not until I felt the familiar soothing rush of urine warming my loins when Mummy lifted me down.

Angie's diaper smelled terrible when Mummy led us both by the hand upstairs to the Nursery for our afternoon naps. Angie was lifted onto the change table first, and as soon as her shoes, socks, and pink shortalls were removed, Mummy made me take over changing her poopy nappy. My little sister lay back and then raised her head, watching me with a critical eye as I gingerly released the tapes. The smell was pretty terrible - but who was I to complain? I let the heavy front of the dirty wet diaper flop down between her splayed thighs with a grimace. "Ew, yuck!" I cried, disgusted by the smelly brown mess smeared all over her bottom and crotch.

"Yes, Baby Jennie!" Mummy heartily agreed. She continued in a voice that could have frozen water, "It is yucky having to clean a dirty baby's messy bottom! Poo-poo is disgusting and smelly, not something exciting! But you seem to enjoy your wet and poopy nappies! Don't you, little girl?" She walloped my padded bum good and hard. "You shameful creature! So from now on, you'll be changing and cleaning Angie's messy nappies every day! Now use the wet front of that diaper to scrape off the worst lumps, and then you will have to carefully fold it into itself." Her tone and manner changed, like she was speaking down to a slow-learning toddler. "{That's right, good girl. Now roll it up carefully and tape it closed, Baby Jennie, and then drop it in this nappy sack."

Mummy coached me through the whole disgusting procedure, making me clean between my sister's spread thighs again and again until she was satisfied. Angelica's yucky brown poo-poo seemed to be smeared everywhere and it stuck to everything it touched - including me! I squealed in dismay when a big brown lump dropped on the back of my left hand. It stuck to me like glue when I snatched away my contaminated paw. After furiously wiping the horrible filth from my hand with a baby wipe, I was grateful when Mummy sent me to the en-suite to wash my hands before continuing. I dashed into the bathroom and anxiously scrubbed my stinky stained paws with a soapy washer under the hot tap for several minutes. I had to go and wash my soiled hands twice more before I could oil and powder Angie down, and Mummy watched with a solemn face while I sullenly taped my silently watching sister into a fresh pastel-pink disposable

When Angie was safely tucked into bed for her nap, Mummy removed my shoes and socks and my pink shortalls. She lifted me onto the change table where she unsnapped my pink onesie. She didn't bother to check to see if I was wet. Mummy seemed to simply assume I was always wet these days. Thankfully my peenie was tiny and shrivelled when she unpinned my wet cloth nappy and lifted the drenched front flap away from my groin. Obviously having to clean my little sister's horribly messy bottom had achieved the desired effect, and Mummy appeared pleased that I remained limp and soft while she cleaned, oiled, and powdered me front and back.

As soon as I was safely locked in my crib, I thought Mummy would leave, but she decided to read my sister a story. I lay there nonchalantly wetting myself as she selected a story book with my sister's advice. I rolled onto my tummy to conceal my thickening pee-drenched erection. Mummy sat on the end of Angie's bed and began reading the story of Peter Rabbit, and I had to content myself with discretely pressing my throbbing hard peenie into my warm wet nappy against the mattress while I impatiently waited for her to finish. But I fell asleep first, lulled into dreamland by my Mummy's soothing voice and her lilting tones as she quietly read to my sister about the silly bunnies.

Mummy went shopping with her big sister Cathy while we were taking our afternoon naps, but she returned before we awoke. I didn't even know she'd been gone - until after I woke up. I was roused out of a deep slumber by the wooden crib rail rattling down and my sister's excited squeals. Mummy had bought us each an identical life-size infant doll, and they were exactly the same - except Angie's wore a pale yellow toddler frock, while the pretty dolly she thrust into my hands was wearing a brief hot-pink dress, with matching frilly pink panties underneath. Angie was jumping up and down and squealing with excitement when she realised we both had matching new baby dolls to play with. After checking my sister's diaper and finding her dry, Mummy clipped her pink onesie back together and sent her to show off her new dolly to Daddy. Angie dashed out of the room so fast, I thought she'd disappeared. Mummy lifted me onto the change table with the doll still cradled in my arms. She unsnapped my onesie, and she removed my damp baby panties while she explained the reason behind her peculiar purchase. "From now on, little girl, you must carry your baby dolly with you wherever you go. And I mean everywhere, at all times! Looking after babies in nappies is hard work, Baby Jennie - as I am sure you are soon about to discover for yourself."

My nappy was absolutely soaked with wee-wee after my afternoon nap, and Mummy dumped the saturated cloth nappies in the nappy bucket with a grimace of distaste. With nothing to do while she cleaned and diapered me, I examined the life-like infant doll I clutched in my hands. She had shoulder-length blonde hair and bright blue eyes just like me, and her body was made out of soft, flesh-coloured latex rubber that felt incredibly life-like. Her pretty painted-on mouth was a tiny pink pursed Cupid's bow, and there was a small hole in the centre. I realised the doll was wearing a disposable infant diaper and crackling plastic panties under her frilly pink rumba pants, just like a real baby. I knew my purse-lipped mother was carefully watching my face the whole time, so I tried to keep my expression neutral, even though I was secretly amazed by the heavy, realistic doll.

After I was clean and smelling sweetly of baby powder, Mummy pinned me into a fresh fluffy nappy. She simply clipped the pink onesie back in place between my legs over the same damp baby panties. She slipped my socks and pink sneakers back on my feet, and turned down the lace frills around my ankles and arranged them to sit more attractively. "That's all my little girl needs to wear while she does the laundry," was Mummy's odd comment as she set me on my feet. "Now you keep a close hold of your new baby, Baby Jennie," she sternly warned me. I was ordered to pick up the heavy nappy bucket full of my soiled wet diapers, and carry it as well as my doll. I stuck the life-size doll awkwardly under one arm, and waddled with great difficulty downstairs and out to the laundry while carrying the sloshing bucket. There I had the unpleasant task of emptying my stinky wet nappies into our top-loading washing machine, and ensuring they were evenly distributed around the stainless-steel drum. Yuck-spuck! Mummy taught me how much powder and fabric softener I had to use, and where it had to be poured. The whole time my dolly was lying on the laundry floor beside me, on a clean towel Mummy made me lay down first.

I realised the doll's eyelids closed when she was tilted onto her back, and was momentarily distracted by her amazingly realistic appearance. I felt miserable when I was forced to pick up a particularly vile poopy nappy that accidentally slipped to the floor, even though the fresh nappies pinned tightly around me were already wonderfully warm and wet, clinging comfortingly to my genitals. I wasn't allowed to wash my smelly hands; not until after the machine had been turned on, and I had cleaned the floor properly where the soiled nappy had fallen. As soon as my hands were scrubbed clean and dried, Mummy dressed me in my pink shortalls again. She ordered me to pick up my dolly and drop the soiled towel in the laundry hamper, and carry my baby into the lounge room. Angie was babbling to Daddy that her new baby's name was Sophie, and I blushed with shame when Mummy unexpectedly turned to me and demanded, "And what is your new baby's name, Baby Jennie?"

When I hesitantly tried to explain my doll didn't have a name, my sister and Mummy turned on me at once. The two females sternly lectured me in stereo about how good Mummies always name their babies immediately, so I gave them the first feminine name I could think of. "Justine," I sputtered over their spirited tirade. "Her name is Justine." I didn't know why my Mummy was grinning so broadly, but even Daddy had a big smile on his face as he examined my new doll's life-like appearance.

"Hello Baby Justine," he greeted the dolly cradled in my arms, squeezing one of her tiny hands like she was a real person. He turned to me and handed me the doll. "Now you take good care of your pretty baby, Baby Jennie. Understand Daddy?" His jocular tone carried more than a hint of warning, and I anxiously bit my plump bottom lip. I nodded obediently as I clutched the dumb doll tighter to my breast. I had to change Angie's wet nappy that afternoon, and at first I was thankful for the momentary relief when we paused from our endless role-playing game of 'Mummies and babies' with our new dolls. But after I removed Angie's wet diaper, Mummy made me place it lying open and smelly on the closed lid of the nappy bucket, instead of folding it up, taping it shut, and dumping it in a nappy sack as usual. After I had cleaned her, powdered her crotch and bottom, and diapered my little sister, I helped Angie to dress in her pink shortalls again. Mummy lifted her down so she could run back to her baby Sophie, then she turned to me, her olive-green eyes narrowed and her high forehead crinkled in a forbidding frown.

"Now Baby Jennie, I want you to remove your baby's rumba panties, plastic panties and diaper, up here on the change table. Go on!" I felt confused as I compliantly lay my dolly Justine on the padded change table and undressed her. As soon as the doll was naked under her pretty dress, Mummy handed me my sister's soggy used diaper from under the table. "Move her dress out of the way front and back first, then put this diaper on your baby, little girl," she commanded sternly. Confused, I clumsily taped the too-large, smelly wet toddler disposable in place around my infant doll's hips with the resealable tabs. It was difficult covering the bulky toddler diaper with the infant plastic panties that came with the doll. I pulled them as high as I could, and then I awkwardly replaced the frilly pink panties. When I held Baby Justine in my arms, the faint aroma of my sister's stale urine drifted up to my nostrils. I began to understand my mother's crafty purchase. I had to carry the smelly wet doll around with me all afternoon, except when I was attending to the laundry or buckled in my highchair to be fed.

When Mummy raised the crib railing that evening and locked it in place for the night, I could hardly wait to be left alone. Next to my pink teddy, Baby Justine was lying beside me with her eyes closed, wearing a smelly wet diaper. I stared at her closed eyes and squeezed the soft little hand that felt so life-like. I saturated my fresh nappies without even thinking about it, and as soon as the deliciously warm wetness surrounded me, I started to grow hard again. I rolled onto my side facing the wall, with the plush pink teddy resting comfortably between my splayed knees. I contented myself with discretely caressing my erection through the tight onesie Mummy made me wear to bed, pressing my warm wet nappy against my excitable little stiffie for a while.

Mummy quietly read to us until I heard my sister finally fall asleep. I pretended to be asleep too, when Mummy softly padded over and checked me. She leaned over the raised cot side, making my wooden crib rattle lightly, and she gently patted my damp padded bottom. She gave a quiet sigh of resignation at the tell-tale wet sound her hand made on my baby panties, but didn't bother commenting. The repeated patting felt extremely soothing and I struggled to stay awake. Eventually Mummy's hand slowed to a halt, before she quietly wandered out of the Nursery. Then I eagerly rolled onto my wet nappy front and rocked on my exciting erection, marvelling at the wonderful sensations before I gradually drifted off to sleep.

To be continued in chapter 5.

Please post a comment here if you are enjoying this naughty sissy-baby story.
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Hugs from Baby Jennie

Chapter 5. Bad Baby Jennie

I awoke in the same position the next morning, on my tummy - but this time the nappies clinging to my loins were heavily drenched. I could feel the delicious warm wet weight of them pressing on my bottom, and the delightful soggy thickness forced my thighs wonderfully wide apart. My dolly Justine was tucked under the blanket beside me and I could smell that her nappy was wet, too. It was only when I rolled onto my side that I realised a firm little log of poo-poo must have slipped out of my slackened anal sphincter during the night without disturbing my heavy slumber. The musty fruity-herb smell of a recently-soiled nappy clouded the air around me as I sensuously wriggled onto my back. When my peenie started to thicken, I had a wicked thought. Seeing that I had already dirtied my nappy slightly, I decided to make a thorough job of it.

I pushed teddy out of the way and rolled onto my front again. I raised my messy bottom, sliding my knees under my tummy so my big diapered rear was prominently raised. My tight plastic panties were stretched to the limit as I poked my dirty wet bum right out. My stretchy pink onesie pulled snugly between my thighs, pressing the solid excreted turd delightfully hard against the sensitive place between my poo-poo hole and my ball sack. I spread my knees as wide as I could, took a deep breath and held it, and thrust my glowing face into the crackling plastic-covered crib mattress. I grunted, pushing down hard with my tummy muscles, my cheeks turning red and bulging with effort. I was rewarded with a sudden rush of hot poop from my dilated botty hole. I spread my damp thighs wider as I forcibly soiled my nappy, and then a stream of hot wee-wees unexpectedly burst from my thickening peenie, making me gasp in pleasure.

I grunted with effort into the pink ballerina sheets bunched around my face, struggling to completely empty my bowels in this unfamiliar infantile position - on my knees, face-down with my bum up high. The heavy mush gradually oozed out of my straining botty hole. Semi-soft crap slowly slid down between my spread bumcheeks, where it gathered in the sagging front of my warm wet nappy. The thick creamy poo-poo surrounding my sack and peenie was much hotter than my wee-wees, and as soon as the flow of urine trickled to a halt, I started to swell with arousal.

By the time I straightened my knees and let myself slide down onto my tummy again, my throbbing erection was cocooned in a hot brown slurry that acted as a smelly lubricant for my twisted self-gratification. I closed my eyes and wantonly thrust myself into the exciting hot mess inside my soiled wet nappies, revelling in the fantastic erotic sensations. As I wriggled and rocked, the rich scent of my fresh excrement mixed in with the smell of my multiple wettings. The heady aroma escaped the tight elastic waistband of my baby panties, wafting about my face like a sickly-sweet perfume. The plastic mattress protector and my thick vinyl panties crackled and crinkled loudly, adding a wonderful auditory element to the overwhelming feelings of pleasure engulfing me.

I don't know how long I rocked and grunted and thrust away into my wonderfully hot, saturated, poop-filled nappy. I was completely unaware my little sister’s slumber had been interrupted by my noisy masturbatory antics. Angie was sitting up in her bed, rubbing her eyes with her tiny fists and peering at me through sleepy lids, when Mummy's hard hand came crashing down on my bobbing rear end. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

"Bad girl! Bad baby girl! Naughty Baby Jennie!" Mummy stormed angrily at me as she repeatedly spanked my dirty diapered bottom. I squealed in fright as she grabbed my writhing hips and rolled me onto my back. She gripped my shoulders painfully hard and violently shook me for a few seconds. My eyes lost focus and everything swam for a few seconds. She thrust me onto my back again and pressed my dolly Justine into my arms. "You lie still and hold your dolly, you dirty bad baby! Pooh! What a stinky little girl!” She snarled in fury, “Bad baby! What a dirty, disgusting little creature you are! Whatever am I going to do with you, Baby Jennie?" Mummy scowled and wagged an admonishing finger at me before moving off to attend to Angie.

My cheeks blazed with embarrassment when I realised my curious little sister must have been watching me through the wooden bars. I covered my watering eyes with my forearm and cowered in shame. Mummy left me lying on my back in the crib while she removed Angie's wet night nappy. As soon as my sister was freshly diapered and dressed in her new pink sunfrock and matching bloomers, Mummy sent her on her way with a gentle encouraging swat on her puffy bottom. Then she turned her attention on me, and I cringed at the anger glinting in her olive-green eyes. I could actually feel the temperature in the room drop and goosebumps stood out on my bare arms and legs. Mummy stamped on the release lever to unlock the crib side and let it drop with a frightening loud crash, making me jump and cry out in terror. She hauled me out of the cot by one ear, making me squeal in pain, then she dragged me over to the hard wooden chair waiting in the corner.

I only realised Mummy’s intent when she sat down and forcibly turned me over her broad lap, arranging my body so my stinky wet bottom was perched high in the air. I kicked my feet in protest, my blushing red face almost touching the floor. She unsnapped my onesie crotch, the rear flap flipped up my back, then her hand came crashing down on my diapered rear end. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! The clinging damp plastic panties seeming to amplify the sound of each hard spank.

"Bad Baby Jennie! Bad little girl! You're a dirty, disgusting baby!" Mummy reprimanded me as she soundly spanked my well-presented botty. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! Despite the many layers of padding, my dirty wet nappies seemed to mold to the curves of my out-thrust seat. Each hard spank was readily transmitted to my bouncing rear end. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! "What a disgusting, dirty, bad little baby girl!" WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! The thick layer of aromatic crap became smeared all over my battered bumcheeks by her vicious onslaught, but there was nothing exciting about my situation right now.

Mummy spanked my poor dirty botty long and hard, and I was sobbing uncontrollably by the time she paused to catch her breath. I was bawling like an inconsolable infant when she dumped me onto the change table and ripped the onesie from my body. She tore down my dripping baby panties with a snarl of annoyance. My stinky wet nappies were swiftly unpinned and stripped away, and I heard her dump them in the nappy bucket. Harsh words rained down on me unendingly as she cleaned my icky bottom and filthy shrivelled peenie with cool moist baby wipes. In the bathtub, I was hosed down with freezing-cold water that morning. Mummy's hands were none-too-gentle as she scrubbed the smelly brown muck away from me front and back with a cold soapy washcloth. I was barely aware of my surroundings when Mummy oiled, powdered, and diapered me afresh on the change table. I remained limp and unresisting while she dressed me from head to toe like I really was a completely useless toddler.

After my black patent Maryjanes were buckled over my frilly white anklet socks, she made me lift my baby Justine onto the change table. I had to undress my dolly, clean her smooth rubber crotch with a baby wipe, and then powder her lightly and rub it in. Under Mummy's stern directions, I folded the used wipe inside the smelly old diaper and taped it tightly closed, then sealed it in a scented plastic nappy sack. My scowling mother collected Angie's saved wet evening diaper from under the change table and silently handed it to me. I had to tape the soggy used disposable diaper around my baby dolly's hips and then replace her pilchers and panties. When Justine was fully dressed, I sullenly gathered her into my arms and miserably hugged my wet baby to my breast without being ordered.

It was only when my nappies warmed comfortingly around my loins while Mummy buckled me into the back seat of the car that I remembered it was Sunday. We were on our way to Church! Angie and I were wearing the matching pink dresses and bloomers Mummy had sewn for us and carrying our identical baby dolls. Mummy was wearing her new matching pink dress too, but she wasn't smiling this morning. I wondered what would happen to me at the Church Nursery, then thought about meeting Justine again. I absent-mindedly rubbed the warm front of damp nappies through my bloomers, In spite of my embarrassing situation, my peenie started to thicken inside my soothing wet diaper. I was oblivious to the gusting wind and the dark grey clouds gathering in the distance, the forerunners to a major storm.

I made sure Angelica wasn't watching while I surreptitiously stroked my cotton bloomers over the slippery front of my baby panties, trying to keep the rustling noise to a minimum. I privately revelled in the thrilling sensations coming from my excited thickening peenie as I fantasised about seeing the beautiful redheaded babysitter. Before I knew it we were pulling up in the Church car park. After Mummy opened my door and unbuckled my seatbelt, she unexpectedly reached inside the waistband of my bloomers and plastic panties. When she discovered I was already wet - and hard - Mummy was livid!

“Good Heavens!” she groaned. She snarled at me as she hauled me bodily out of the car; "You make sure you keep hold of that dolly all day, my naughty baby girl!" Mummy urged Angie to walk ahead of us and open the Nursery door, and then she grabbed my left wrist and clenched it painfully hard in her left fist. Her other hand swooped down to spank my wet padded bottom. WHACK! I almost dropped my dolly in shock. Even though I barely felt it, I squealed in alarm and tried to jump away. Mummy kept a limpet-like grip on my wrist and followed me. She smacked my tender damp bottom all the way up the path to the door of the Nursery. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

Because my thick fluffy nappy was mostly dry in the rear, the spanking was much louder than it was painful. I shrieked like a frightened little girl just the same, and ineffectually tried to dance out of reach of Mummy's punishing hand. She steered my flailing form in the direction of the Nursery, and the brisk wind blew my dress and frothy petties up around my flushed red face. When I heard a quiet ripple of adult laughter behind me, my cheeks burned with added shame. It was mortifying being spanked by Mummy and humiliated like a naughty toddler in front of the bemused grown-ups heading past us on their way to Church service. I was sobbing pitifully by the time Mummy finally relaxed her vise-like grip on my wrist. She smacked me away from her in disgust. "Get in the Nursery where you belong, you disgusting child!"

I stumbled into the huge room clutching my Baby Justine to my breast, unaware all the children inside had turned to stare at the crying big baby. My vision was blurred by tears and I wiped my eyes with the back of my free hand. "I only changed my little cry-baby's dirty nappy fifteen minutes ago, and she's already wet herself," Mummy callously informed the alarmed elderly woman hobbling towards the front door to greet us. "I think my naughty Baby Jennie enjoys the feel of her stinky wet diapers," Mummy growled, casting a withering glare at me.

"Oh dear!" the doddering old woman muttered in concern, holding a wrinkled, blue-veined hand to her red-painted slash of a mouth. "Do you want me to change your... err... your baby daughter's nappy?"
"Don't bother," my mother disdainfully replied. "My bad Baby Jennie seems to like it so much, let her sit in her own waste until I return from service. What a dirty disgusting baby girl I've got!" Mummy muttered mostly to herself before she turned away and departed. The befuddled elderly woman shook her head in confusion at my mother's callous decision. I gave a muted cry of thanks when I spotted Justine, the teenage Nursery attendant, approaching.

The gorgeous buxom redhead was a blurry vision in soft pink this morning. Her scoop-necked, pastel-pink knitted dress clung like a second skin to every delicious bump and curve. Her bare legs were long and lightly tanned under the brief hemline, and she wore a pair of white strappy espadrilles on her dainty feet. I don't know why it struck me, but I also noticed her tiny pink toenails were painted the exact pastel shade as her dress. I clutched my baby doll tighter while I waddled as quickly as I could towards the delectable smiling teenager. When she knelt and opened her arms wide in acceptance, I fell into her welcoming embrace with a sob of relief. Her big brown eyes were like two dark chocolate pools radiating warmth and concern, and her hands were soft and gentle on my tear-streaked face.

"Oh you poor baby! Aww, don't cry! Don't worry, Mrs O'Sullivan. You look after Angelica, and I'll take care of our little Baby Jennie here," Justine assured the distracted old lady. She gathered me and my doll in her arms and swept me away. "That's a very pretty dolly you have there, Baby Jennie. Is she yours?" Justine smiled down kindly at me when I tearfully nodded, still incapable of speech. I held my baby doll cradled in one arm and clutched Justine's hand tightly with my other hand. I let the grinning young woman lead me past the watching pre-schoolers like a distraught toddler. I hoped she wouldn't ask me for my doll's name!

Once we were in the deserted tea-room, Justine lifted me off my feet and sat on the long grey sofa, perching me sideways on her warm bare knees. She tried heroically to stop me crying but I was temporarily inconsolable. She cooed and clucked in wordless mothering tones as she made me lie across the wool cushioned lounge with my head resting in her soft inviting lap. She leaned over me and patted dry my tears with her perfumed lace-edged handkerchief. It smelled like violets. I clutched my wet doll tighter in my arms as I cried like a sissy baby in front of this beautiful teenager, fat tears of shame rolling down my hot red cheeks.

"There, there, Baby Jennie,” Justine soothed me in tender tones. “Aww, my poor little baby girl! Oh, it's alright, precious! It's okay, baby. Aunty Justine’s got you now. You're safe, and everything's going to be all right." She cuddled me closer to her generous bosom and rocked me in her loving embrace. Gradually my hiccupping sobs began to subside. "I know what you need," she softly whispered in my ear as she maternally cradled my head. "I know what my poor little baby girl needs to help stop her crying," she cooed in tender loving tones.

I had my weeping eyes closed so I couldn't see what she was doing, but my nostrils filled with the delightful fragrance of her floral perfume. I vaguely felt her fumbling near my chin for a few moments, and then something warm and wonderfully soft was pressed against my cheek, then to my pouting wet lips. "Open up, baby," she softly encouraged me as she teased the stiffening nipple of her right breast into my open mouth. "You have a little suck on Aunty Justine's titty. That always calms my babies down." My parted lips automatically closed around her thickening warm teat, and I opened my blurry eyes in shock even as I instinctively started to suck.

Justine had stretched her scoop-necked knit dress down in front and slipped one creamy breast free from the confines of her shiny pink satin bra cup. She was cradling the soft mound of warm flesh in one hand, and the fat russet nipple poking between her splayed fingers pressed deeply into my mouth. I wanted to draw back and stare in awe at her full naked breast, but there was no way I was going to let that delectable hard nipple out of my mouth even for a second. I gazed up at her beautiful face instead and sucked gently. Justine smiled and cooed, “You can suck harder than that.” The gorgeous red-head pressed her hand against the back of my head, almost mashing my face against her plump creamy bosom in excitement as I greedily drew more of her luscious teat into my mouth.

"Suck Aunty’s titty, baby. Mmm! Like that! That's a good girl. Ooo, you do that so well!” Justine moaned. “Suck harder, Baby Jennie.” I obediently drew harder on her swollen nipple and she groaned in response. “Ohhh! Mmm! Yeah, like that. Oh yes! Ohh! Mmm, that's my good baby girl," she muttered throatily. For some reason I seemed to instantly calm down and my eyelids fluttered closed. As I reflexively tongued her luscious teat against the roof of my mouth, my tears vanished like magic. I suddenly felt warm and loved and content.

Justine softly stroked my cheek and patted my hair, crooning to me in nonsense baby-talk as I continued to suckle like a hungry babe from her firm heavy breast. "Oh that feels good, doesn't it, honey? Mmmm. Yum-yums! That's right, baby, keep sucking, just like that. Oh yes! Mmm! Good girl. Ooo! Aunty Justine loves it when you suck her titties hard like that. Mmm, good girl. Good Baby Jennie! Ooo!" I slitted my eyelids to shyly peek up at her beautiful face but from the glazed look in her big brown eyes, she didn't appear to notice. Her sweet voice seemed to grow thicker with each passing moment and her eyelids abruptly squeezed tightly shut. I could feel her pressing and rubbing her thighs together under my head and she started to tremble.

"Ohh! Oh yes! Oh yes, baby! Suck my nipple harder, Baby Jennie. Don't stop! Mmm! Good girl! Good baby girl!" Justine groaned and threw back her head, carelessly tossing her glossy mane of thick red hair over her shoulders. She began to twitch and moan incoherently, giving in to the pleasurable sensations building in her groin. I thought she was going to crush my head for a few seconds, she squeezed me so tightly against her sweaty heaving bosom. The swollen nipple in my mouth went hard as a pebble, and her warm heavy breast seemed to swell and grow suddenly firmer against my cheek.

"Oh baby! Oh! Oh! Oooo!" she quietly groaned, her pink lips drawn back in the rictus of a smile. After another minute of shuddering, her painful grip on my head thankfully relaxed. I continued to dutifully suckle on her hard nipple for a few more seconds, but then she pried me away by slipping the tip of her index finger into the corner of my mouth, breaking my suction grip. For a moment all I could taste was her nail polish, and I my eyes flew open in disappointment.

After she stopped panting, Justine tenderly gazed down at me lying across her lap for a few moments, a faraway languid look in her lustrous brown eyes. Her face was flushed and her cheeks were rosy, her flawless skin seemed to glow with vitality. She slowed her breathing, then inhaled deeply before speaking. "That's enough for now, little girl," she crooned softly to me, her voice still husky. She cleared her throat and tucked her beautiful heavy breast inside the shiny hammock of her pink satin bra. "They always get really sensitive after I cum," she explained as she demurely rearranged the front of her knit wool dress.

She giggled when I pouted up at her, confused and disappointed. "How old are you again, Baby Jennie?" Justine demanded with a throaty laugh. I blushed mightily when I again confessed to her that I was really thirteen years old. "Oh well," she continued, in that condescending tone adults always use when they're discussing sexual matters with small children. "Don't worry about it, my pretty little girl. I'm sure you'll find out what Aunty Justine means soon enough."

Her cryptic remarks did little to satisfy my curiosity. I was distracted when she reached down and patted the tenting front of my panties, before grabbing my hard stiffie right through my wet nappies and bloomers. She rhythmically squeezed my swaddled hard-on and continued in a playful voice, "I'm sure my naughty little girl has already been experimenting with her hands inside her nappies. Haven't you, Baby Jennie? Tell Aunty Justine the truth now." She pouted sexily and her eyelids drooped seductively, her tone coy and secretive. When I shook my head in confused denial she merely threw back her head and laughed loudly in disbelief. I was thrilled she didn’t stop caressing my erection through the clinging layers of my deliciously warm wet nappies.

Justine briskly rubbed the baggy cotton bloomers up and down over the prominent bulge with her palm, and the sheer pink material slithered sensuously over the slippery smooth plastic panties underneath. “Does that feel good, baby? Does my little girl like that?” Her big brown eyes watched my face calculatingly as she squeezed and rubbed me, teasing the throbbing hardness trapped inside to greater fullness. I nodded, incapable of speech. Suddenly I wanted Justine to touch me down there - to touch me inside my diaper! My nappies became a warm wet prison for me, and I was desperate to be free of their humid confines.

My beautiful babysitter obviously had other plans though, because she released her thrilling grip on my nappy front and too soon sat me up. She helped me unsteadily to my feet, with a smile and a bemused shake of her head at the obvious bulge tenting out the front of my bloomer panties. She kindly straightened the front of my dress and petties to help conceal my arousal, then took my hand. “Come on, baby girl. Come with Aunty Justine,” she urged me with a wide inviting smile, turning me towards the door.

I smiled shyly up at the gorgeous redhead and nodded. “Yeth Aunty Justine,” I mumbled in reply. She led me waddling outside to play with the other toddlers in the Nursery. I knew my baggy bloomers were still tenting out in front, but my floaty pink sundress and frothy petticoats were thankfully long enough to conceal my embarrassing state of tumescence.

I found my eyes locked on the fascinating curves of Justine's bosom for the remainder of the morning, whenever she was in my line of sight. I marvelled at the entrancing glimpses of cleavage she slyly offered me now and then. My throbbing stiffie wouldn't go down, even when I became desperate to do another wee-wee. I had to slink off in a corner by myself for a few minutes and will away my pee-hard erection before I could thankfully empty my straining bladder. But as soon as the hot stream dwindled to a halt, I started growing stiff again inside my deliciously warm wet nappy. I would discretely rub the front of my panties whenever I thought no one was watching, fondling my sensitive stiffie through the delicious wet warmth. I spent the remainder of the hour in a state of constant arousal. I was a shivering wreck by the time Mummy came to collect us after Church service.

Mummy marched in and spied me kneeling on the floor clutching the front of my panties. She frowned and motioned me to come to her with a summoning wave of her hand. I guiltily snatched my naughty paw away from my warm wet crotch and awkwardly clambered to my feet. I slowly waddled towards her with my dolly cradled in my arms. I was so frightened that my stiffie started wilting immediately, thank goodness! Mummy coldly ordered, "Come here to Mummy, little girl. Lift up your dress, Baby Jennie, and hold it against your chest. Let Mummy check that droopy nappy to see how wet you are." Of course I was saturated by this time.

Mummy pulled the waistband of my bloomers and my plastic panties away from my tummy before sniffing loudly in contempt. "Oh dear! What a smelly, wet little girl you are, Baby Jennie!" She made sure her voice was pitched loud enough for everyone in the Nursery to overhear her cruel admonition, then Mummy announced; "That diaper is too drenched to last my helpless little wetter through breakfast! I think we'd better change your saturated nappy right away, little girl." She produced the pink-checked vinyl change bag from behind her back and grabbed my wrist, turning her attention to Justine standing behind me. "Would you like to help me change Baby Jennie's wet nappy, Justine?" I turned to gaze up at the beautiful smiling teenager in horror, shaking my head in silent entreaty. She ignored my pleading eyes to look only at my stern-faced mother.

"Why certainly, Mrs. R!" Justine agreed with an amused smirk, her dark chocolate eyes lighting up with poorly concealed glee. "Let me escort you to the tea-room out back, where we can have a little more privacy." The gorgeous red-head walked ahead of us and I couldn’t help staring in fascination at her beautiful big bottom under her tight clinging pink dress as it swayed and danced hypnotically before my eyes. "By the way, I love your matching pink outfits," Justine tossed over her shoulder to Mummy, who only smiled thinly in response.

Mummy kept my slender wrist in her iron grip and before I knew it, my pink vinyl-backed cotton change mat was being spread out on the old grey sofa by the buxom smiling teenager. I was swiftly lifted onto my back on the lounge Justine had recently used to breastfeed me. The memories flooded my mind – with the predictable result. I knew I was still mostly hard inside my wonderfully warm wet nappy and I desperately tried to will away my shameful thickening erection while Mummy pulled down my frilly bloomers and plastic panties.

"She's very wet today," Justine commented when she spied the saturated yellow crotch of my formerly-white nappy. She smiled down at me and cooed, "What a wet little baby girl! Aren't you, Baby Jennie?" I meekly nodded, too embarrassed to respond verbally.
Mummy paused to order me to lift my bottom so she could make sure the protective change mat was spread out properly beneath me. "Baby Jennie is always wet these days,” she replied to Justine. “I think she enjoys sitting in her smelly wet nappies. And down, baby," Mummy coldly directed at me. When my damp bottom obediently dropped, she unfastened the big pink pins and lowered the drenched front of my clinging wet nappy.

"Oh yes! Baby Jennie certainly seems to love her warm wet nappies, all right!" Justine wryly observed when my embarrassing erection was released. My mother and my babysitter sounded like a pod of chirping dolphins when they simultaneously clucked their tongues in disgust. "Here, let me clean her up?" Justine asked my grim-faced mother.

Mummy nodded curtly and stepped back, leaning one hip against the end of the lounge near my head. She watched carefully, frowning as the gorgeous teenager wiped my hard red stiffie and glistening urine-stained crotch with some moist baby wipes. Justine towered over me and leaned forward between my splayed legs while she cleaned my tummy, till her bountiful breasts almost spilled free of her plunging neckline. With each tantalising swipe of the soothing wipes, her enticing cleavage deepened then opened again. My stimulated stiffie swelled even harder in response.

"Lots of my little charges get so excited when Aunty Justine has to clean up their messy bits and bottoms," the smirking redhead commented airily. She disposed of the used wipe in a handy bin, and then she expertly collected and raised my ankles high in the air with one hand. She grabbed another couple of cool wipes with the other and tilted me further back onto my shoulders, so my damp bottom was shamefully exposed. Justine carefully cleaned between my spread cheeks with a dismissive laugh for my shuddering protests. "Sometimes it's almost impossible to pin them into their clean nappies afterwards. Let me show you what I usually do with the over-excited ones," she suggested to my mother with a twinkling smile.

As Justine finished wiping my botty-crack, she poked a wipe-covered finger right inside my delicate wrinkled rosebud. I squealed piteously at the unwarranted intrusion and vainly tried to wriggle away. She ignored my shrill cries of distress and carelessly let my ankles drop. After showing the brown-stained baby wipe to Mummy, she discarded it the in the nearby trash can, accompanied by a significant glance to my unsmiling parent. Justine washed her hands at the nearby sink, then stepped over to the old bar fridge under the bench against the wall.

I didn't see Justine remove the big steel dessert spoon from the freezer, but I squealed in alarm when she used it to cup my sensitive ball sack and then cover my hard peenie. The frozen spoon had the desired effect. My throbbing stiffie instantantly wilted under this unfair assault. I shrieked in pain and bucked my hips while I tried to clamp my legs together, trying to wriggle away from the freezing steel she viciously pressed against my shrinking genitals. Mummy grabbed hold of my knees and simply pressed them down forced them wider apart. She harshly commanded, “Be quiet, Baby Jennie! Behave yourself and lie still!”

I started to sniffle and then cry, tears of pain and humiliation trickling down my cheeks. My flushed face grew hotter when Justine loudly observed, "I normally give my teary little ones their dummies after I do this to them. It seems to help calm their tears. Does Baby Jennie have a dummy she can suck?" she asked my sneering mother, who shook her head disdainfully.
"No, Baby Jennie doesn't have a dummy. Not yet," was Mummy's yelled reply. She pressed my shoulders back before spreading my knees again, relentlessly holding me in place until my shrivelling peenie and scrotum had almost disappeared inside my body. I shrieked and wailed in discomfort, trembling violently all over. The pain was starting to lessen but the humiliation was overwhelming. I gazed up uncomprehendingly at my cruel red-headed tormentress through tear-blurred eyes. Her beautiful face was impassive and her dark brown eyes unreadable, but I'm sure mine expressed my sense of confusion and betrayal. "I must remember that trick," my Mummy noted in a thoughtful tone. I shuddered at the frightening portent of her comment.

Mummy released my knees and she grabbed my ankles, and she forced them high over my head. Justine slipped two prepared clean nappies underneath my folded frame and Mummy let my shivering botty drop onto the waiting pile of soft fluffy terrycloth. My mother handed Justine the nappy liners and she watched the pretty teenager with almost professional interest as she correctly placed them in position. Mummy nodded in grim approval as Justine thoroughly powdered my miniscule pale scrotum and shivering bottom, and then the redhead swiftly pinned the fresh nappies tightly over my hips with two big pink pins each side.

"She's certainly a very heavy wetter, your Baby Jennie," Justine observed, as she closed the second pin on the last side. "Two pins each side will certainly help stop her nappies from sliding down when they're saturated.” She grinned and patted my frozen crotch. “Plus they make it harder for this inquisitive little miss to slip her naughty little paws inside her tight wet nappies." Mummy only compressed her lips into a thin bloodless line at that prophetic comment.

Justine replaced my damp plastic panties before pulling my bloomers up my compliantly raised legs. "There you go, Baby Jennie!" she brightly exclaimed, as she lifted me to my feet and handed me my doll. She urged me towards my Poe-faced mother with an encouraging crisp swat on my heavily padded rear. "A fresh, clean-smelling baby girl - for the moment."

"Yes - for the moment," Mummy agreed with an exaggerated sigh of long suffering. I waddled towards her clutching my baby doll Justine. "Certainly she won't stay dry for very long. My wicked Baby Jennie seems to love weeing and pooing in her nappies like a naughty little baby, making lots of yucky stinky messes for her poor Mummy to clean up." I ducked my head in shame and felt my cheeks grow hotter at Mummy's embarrassing revelations, which only seemed to inspire my mother to further humiliate me. "Oh and by the way, did Baby Jennie tell you what she named her new baby dolly? This one, which I purchased for her yesterday?"

"Why no, she didn't," replied the teenager with a cheeky grin. She glanced at the doll I nervously clutched in my arms. "I was admiring Baby Jennie's dolly earlier. She certainly is a lucky baby girl." She turned to me and asked in honeyed tones, "What is your pretty baby's name, Baby Jennie?" She spoke to me exactly as though she was addressing a shy little toddler and my mother's cruel smile only grew broader.

I shrank away from Justine's searching brown eyes and felt my pink cheeks grow even hotter at her condescending tone. Mummy's harsh expression warned me I'd better tell the truth, so I haltingly admitted; "Her name- My baby- Her name is Baby Justine," I finally blurted in an embarrassed rush. I felt absolutely mortified but the bemused teenager seemed to take pity on me.

After briefly laughing, the stunning young woman knelt down in front of me. Beyond my control, my eyes locked on the shadowed depths of her entrancing cleavage. "I think that's a lovely compliment, Baby Jennie," she kindly informed me. She raised my drooping chin with one perfectly manicured pink fingernail, making me lift my humiliated gaze to her beautiful face - till I could see she was beaming in delight. "What a precious little baby girl you are!" I began to feel better - until Mummy cruelly interrupted.

"Oh, my Baby Jennie certainly seems to have a crush on you, Justine. As you probably know, little girls develop crushes on their pretty babysitters so easily. But I'm glad to see you know how to treat naughty little babies like mine - especially when changing their wet nappies."
"As I said before, Mrs R," Justine replied evenly, standing beside my mother and possessively taking my small hand in her much larger one. "If you want to leave a change of nappies with me for this pretty little baby girl when you bring her in, I'd be happy to change her for you when she's wet or dirty."
"I'll certainly think about it now," Mummy promised. “Thank you.” After collecting Angie and her doll Baby Sophie, she led us out to the car. The morning sun had disappeared behind a wall of dark grey clouds, and the sombre weather seemed to match my gloomy mood.

As soon as my mother and Angelica walked a few paces ahead of us, Justine leaned closer to me and whispered conspiratorially in my ear. "Sorry about the frozen spoon trick. But I wanted your Mummy to feel confident about leaving you with me in the future, and letting me change your nappies. I'll make it up to you next time I babysit you, Baby Jennie. I promise!" The chill wind almost whipped away her quietly-spoken words and my billowing dress and petticoats flapped distractingly about my shoulders. With both hands occupied, I struggled to keep my flying hemline down in front with my dolly’s legs. Justine fell silent when she handed me over to Mummy to lift into our car's back seat, watching closely while my grim-faced mother buckled me in like I was a useless toddler. My beautiful babysitter smiled and waved to us as we drove off, trying to hold down her windblown russet mane with her other hand.

I was sullen and miserable when Daddy secured me in one of the highchairs at our usual restaurant for Sunday breakfast. Angie was seated in her highchair opposite me, and she was so bubbly and excited, she chattered enough for all of us. She insisted Mummy place our infant dolls carefully together in another highchair the elderly manager kindly brought to our table. An involuntary smile tugged at the corners of my mouth when I saw how cute our pretty twin babies looked sitting side-by-side in a highchair. After Angie's and my bibs were clipped around our necks by a helpful grinning young waitress, Mummy proceeded to feed me my breakfast while Daddy cut up Angie’s food for her. While eating our meal, my parents discussed my fate as though I wasn't even there. I desperately sought some distraction from Mummy’s humiliating comments. When I realised there wasn't even a strut in front of the highchair to rub my wet crotch against, I slumped dispiritedly in my infantile restraints.

Mummy quietly brought up the embarrassing subject of my apparently diminishing bladder and bowel control. My baby sister was busily chewing away, preoccupied watching the trio of little girls sitting at the next table. In hushed tones Mummy informed Daddy that she suspected their naughty Baby Jennie was unfortunately starting to enjoy her wet and dirty nappies! They frankly discussed my disgusting newfound fascination while Mummy spoon-fed me my scrambled eggs. They acted as though I couldn't understand a single word they were saying. Then it occurred to me. They didn't appear to be acting!

I felt a chill of premonition when I realised they actually seemed to view me as simply another toddler who needed potty-training; nothing but a small child who had unfortunately acquired some unsavoury bad habits. My cheeks grew hotter and my ears buzzed with humiliation. I tried to blot out the shameful conversation by thinking about something else. Anything else. When I felt my nappy grow warmer around my bottom, the familiar soothing heat was comforting. I relaxed completely and let my lovely hot wee-wees flow freely into my thick and thirsty swaddling. I fixated on the memory of Justine's beautiful firm teat in my mouth earlier that morning, simply opening my mouth whenever the loaded spoon approached, chewing and then swallowing with difficulty through a throat thick and tight with shame.

When Mummy handed me my pink sippy-cup full of juice from the baby bag, she informed Daddy that her big sister Cathy intended visiting us that afternoon. Mummy sniffed, “She wants to meet our new big baby girl.” She glanced meaningfully at me, and she didn't seem surprised when he decided to drive to his golf club and play golf or cards with the boys for the rest of the day. My beautiful Aunty Cath is a real bossy-boots, and the whole family normally tries to stay out of her way - except Mummy, of course; but sometimes Aunty Cath even bosses her around.

The black clouds had rolled over and the first fat drops of rain were falling while we drove home, my nappies growing wetter in sympathy as Daddy switched on the swishing windscreen wipers. When he pulled up in our driveway, Mummy unbuckled us and quickly ushered us inside before the torrential downpour really started. Daddy drove away alone while I had to follow Mummy upstairs, leading my sister by the hand for her diaper change. Mummy undressed Angelica down to her disposable and baby panties, then lifted her onto the change table.

My sister had done a big smelly poo-poo in her wet diaper after breakfast. After I carefully removed the saggy soiled disposable from under her raised bottom, Mummy took the unfolded item from me without a word. I was made to clean Angie's dirty bot-bot and puffy brown-stained slit thoroughly with baby wipes, and I thankfully managed not to smear any yucky excrement on me this time. I had to massage in the scented pink baby lotion front and back and powder my little sister all over, before taping a fresh diaper around her loins.

Mummy brushed me aside to lift her down from the change table. She dressed Angie in a white Barbie onesie and some red snap-crotch shorts, tied her pink sneakers over the same frilly anklet socks, and then urged her to go and play with her baby doll in the sunroom.

As soon as my bubbling baby sister vanished from sight, Mummy took my doll from Angie's bed and placed her on her back on the change table. I was expecting her to lift me up onto the padded table for a nappy change, and glanced up at her in surprise. She ignored my questioning eyes to ask, "It's time to change your baby Justine's diaper, too. Don't you think so, Baby Jennie?" From her icy condescending tone I knew she didn't expect a reply.

I simply undressed my baby, untaping the smelly stale wet diaper with a sigh of relief. I folded it and carefully taped it closed, before placing it in the pleasantly scented nappy sack my stony-faced mother held open and waiting for me. I had to scrub my baby down with a wipe from the plastic tub, and then powder her bottom and crotch and gently rub it in like she was a real baby. As soon as the full nappy sack had been discarded in the bin beside the change table, Mummy turned to me and her olive-green eyes were cold and unforgiving. She took my sister's yucky poopy diaper from under the change table where she’d placed it, and carefully handed the foul-smelling item to me.

"Tape this dirty diaper on your baby, Baby Jennie," Mummy disdainfully ordered. My face fell when she snapped, "and be careful about it!" My bottom lip stuck out despondently when I lifted my baby doll's clean rubber bottom into the air and delicately slid the awful poopy diaper under her. Stinky brown poo-poo stuck to Justine as soon as I lowered her pink rubber flesh into the soft pile of excrement. I grimaced in distaste as I gingerly taped the re-sealable tabs in place. I replaced my doll's plastic panties as carefully as I could, relieved when no poop leaked out. I slid Justine's frilly pink satin rumba panties back in place when ordered, and almost gagged when Mummy made me clutch my dirty smelly baby to my breast. My nappies were lovely and warm and wet around my sensitive groin, and I was confused when Mummy led me downstairs to the laundry without even bothering to check me.

I had to take the load of freshly-washed nappies out of the machine and pop them in the dryer before I was allowed to go and play 'Mummies and babies' with Angie. After a few minutes of playing together my sister grimaced in revulsion and pushed me away.

"Pee-yew! Your baby stinks!" Angie complained bitterly, screwing up her petite snub nose and shaking her head in disgust. "You're not a very good Mummy, Baby Jennie." Her frown deepened as she concentrated, but then she smiled forgivingly, her pretty features lighting up. "Maybe that's 'cause you're still just a baby too!" My curt retort was cut short by the loud ringing of our front doorbell. I was so startled, a hot little lump of poop slipped out of my undisciplined botty hole before I could squeeze my slackened sphincter shut. Oh no! Aunty Cath was here and I was wet - and dirty - again!

To be continued in chapter 6.

Thank you for the comments - both positive and negative. At least a couple of you readers took the few minutes and effort to leave something. My thanks again.
Baby Jennie

Chapter 6. A Visit from Aunty Cath

Angelica ran off to greet our Aunty Cath, clutching her new baby doll in her arms. I remained rooted to the spot in alarm, a hot lumpy package nestled in the seat of my warm wet nappy. I barely noticed my bladder was simultaneously emptying - not until I felt the comforting heat splashing around my genitals. The soothing warmth seeped around to my seat, where the firm fresh turd kept my bum cheeks pressed apart. I didn't want my beautiful Aunty Cath to see me diapered and dressed like this, but I knew I had no choice in the matter. Even so, I turned to waddle away, thinking to hide in my bedroom, hoping to delay the inevitable humiliation for as long as possible. As soon as I took the first awkward step another slippery lump of hot squishy poo-poo squirted out of my weakened anal sphincter into my wet and dirty diaper.

Realising it was all over, I abandoned any attempts to waddle away and gave up with a moan of resignation. I completely relaxed my traitorous botty hole, and the firm fat turds seemed to gush out of me in an unstoppable hot rush. I squatted slightly and held my breath, bearing down in an attempt to empty my bowels completely. My diaper was already dirty. I figured I might as well push out any remaining poop so I wouldn't inadvertently soil my next nappy too soon. I closed my eyes and took another deep breath, and then grunted loudly as I pushed and strained - which is probably why I didn't hear Mummy, Angelica and Aunty Cath walking into the carpeted sunroom.

"Oh look!" Aunty Cath cried loudly in amusement. My eyes snapped open in alarm. She chuckled richly when she caught sight of the embarrassing infantile spectacle I presented. "It looks like we caught your pretty little baby girl doing a great big poo-poo in her nappies for her Mummy." I whipped my head around to find my grinning Aunty, my wide-eyed sister and my frowning mother standing a few feet behind me, watching me closely. My cheeks burned with fresh humiliation as I was compelled to squat and uncontrollably soil my nappy in front of them like a helpless diapered toddler.

At five-foot eleven, Catherine Jones is a tall imperious woman, a couple of inches taller than Mummy - although her majestic carriage always made her appear much taller. Below her skin-tight black slacks she wore a pair of knee-high black, high-heeled platform boots that only added to her already impressive stature. She is a beautiful woman and her eyes are green like my Mummy's, only brighter and somehow more mysterious, framed by high, delicately-arched dark eyebrows. Even though she is three or four years older than Mummy, she actually looks younger - a fact I knew secretly annoyed my mother.

Aunty Cath has flawless olive skin and enjoyed indulging herself with facials at the beauticians every week, plus her monthly weekend visits to an expensive day spa. She has an hourglass figure. Her slender waist seemed to exaggerate her curvaceous bottom and the generous swell of her womanly hips. Today her long dark-brown hair was piled up high on her head in a sexy loose bun, and her shiny red blouse was snug enough to outline her lacy bra and emphasise the full bosom jiggling underneath. Her amused emerald eyes were dark and smoky with sexy make-up, and her smirking glossy red lips were perfectly painted to match her tight satin blouse.

"Go on, baby girl," Aunty Cath encouraged me in mocking syrupy toddler tones. She crouched down with her hands on her knees, so our faces were almost level. "Show us how you do poo-poos in your nappy like a great big baby. That's it, push down with your tummy muscles and get all the nasty poo-poos out. That's it! Good baby! What a good little baby girl!" I tried to stop pooping so it didn't look like I was behaving like an obedient baby for Aunty Cath. I squeezed off what I thought was the last solid log with a grunt of relief. When I tried to waddle away from my humiliating predicament, a final sharp bowel cramp froze me to the spot.

I whimpered loudly in despair as I was forced to helplessly squat once more before my sister and the watching women, fill my lungs, and then bear down in an attempt to totally empty myself. "Oh, what a precious baby girl you really are!” Aunty Cath sang in a voice dripping sarcasm. “Finish your jobbies like a good baby! That's it, baby. Ohh, good girl! Show Aunty Cath how you do great big poo-poos in your nappies. Push it all out like a good baby girl for Aunty." She lavished more faux-praise upon me and as the last sticky lump slid out of my useless sphincter, I silently prayed it was all over. I hesitantly straightened my shaky knees. "All finished now, baby girl? Are we finished doing poo-poos in our nap-naps?" Aunty Cath crooned. My head remained bowed in shame and my tear-blurred eyes were glued to the floor as I humbly nodded.

Before I had the chance to slink away, Aunty Cath grabbed me by one shoulder and turned me side-on to her. With her other hand she reached around and probed the sagging rear of my nappy through my slippery baby panties and pink cotton bloomers. To my mother she announced, "Oh my! She's wet through, too!” She firmly patted the huge semi-solid lump bulging warmly between my soiled botty cheeks, making me cringe in shame. “Oh yes! I think your precious baby girl has made a lovely big poo-poo parcel in her nappies for her Mummy to clean up," Cath sarcastically declared to my mother, giving the firm mess wedged in my bumcrack one final hard smack. "Let Aunty take a good look at you, my pretty baby girl," she commanded, roughly grabbing both my shoulders and turning my body so I faced her. Aunty Cath snatched my dolly from my limp hands and after sniffing her smelly diapered crotch and grimacing in revulsion, she placed Justine on her back lying on the floor in front of me.

My cheeks were burning with shame and I kept my blurry eyes on the pretty dolly lying asleep at my feet. Aunty Cath forcefully turned me this way and that, inspecting my clothes and complimenting Mummy on the fine sewing job she had done on my pretty pink outfit. When my mother informed her she had made matching outfits for both herself and her toddler girls, I was mortified to realise that I was the only one still wearing a dress and petticoats. Angelica had been changed into her red shorts and her favourite Barbie onesie, and Mummy - still in her pastel-pink, strappy high heels - was now wearing tight navy-blue jeans under a loose white cotton blouse. Even Aunty Cath was wearing a pair of snug black slacks. For some reason I felt even more juvenile and feminine cowering before her in my sweet pink toddler frock, frothy petties and lace-trimmed bloomers.

"She looks absolutely gorgeous!" Cath complimented my Mummy. I felt sure she didn't mean it. "I'm sure Bonnie and April would love to babysit her. What a little doll!" She laughed loudly in merriment, and I winced as I imagined having to endure the jeering laughter and taunts of her beautiful stuck-up teenage daughters. "For years I've been telling you she was way too petite and far too pretty to be a boy. And I love what you've done with her hair," my Aunty continued approvingly. She knelt in front of me and pressed my fluffy elastic hair bands tighter against my scalp, making me wince and squeal in pain. "So have you given your new baby girl a name?" she asked with a tight smile for my pitiful girlish squeals. She fluffed out my long pigtails and glanced up at Mummy.

"Her name is Jennie, but we usually call her Baby Jennie," Mummy replied in a venomous voice.
"Jennie? That's a very pretty name for a pretty little girl, but why Jenn-"
"She chose it herself," Mummy interrupted to explain with a uncomprehending shake of her head. Aunty stood and laughed merrily, and when she looked down at me re-appraisingly, my blushes intensified. "She told all her little girlfriends at the Church Nursery that her name was Baby Jennie," Mummy continued in a chill monotone. She turned to my wide-eyed little sister. “Angie? Why don’t you take your dolly Sophie downstairs and go and watch TV in the loungeroom. Aunty Cath and I need to have a little talk with our Baby Jennie.”

As soon as my sister reluctantly disappeared from view cradling her dolly in her arms, the two tall women immediately turned on me. "Your Mummy tells me you've been a wicked little girl lately, Baby Jennie," my Aunty declared in a frostier tone. I could almost feel the temperature in the room drop. There was an ominous loud crash of thunder nearby that made me jump. "Why don't you tell your Aunty Cath what naughty things you've been up to, hmm?" I felt my cheeks blush warmly and tears of shame welled in my eyes. I ducked away from Aunty Cath’s searching emerald eyes. I didn't know where to look or what to say. I stood there mute and red-faced, cringing before the scowling women towering over me.

After an interminable pregnant pause - broken only by another alarming rumble of thunder, Mummy answered for me. "My Baby Jennie has been a very bad little girl recently," she informed my frowning Aunty, her icy tone reeking of disapproval. "During the last few days I've caught Baby Jennie pressing the front of her dirty wet nappies against her cot mattress a few times, and rubbing the front of her saturated nappies against herself with her wicked little paws. I think my disgusting baby girl enjoys weeing and pooping in her nappies. It makes her all excited down there." My cheeks turned crimson with shame. I felt the hot blush creeping up my neck from behind as Mummy cruelly listed my string of misdeeds for Aunty. I was so embarrassed, my ears turned pink and started to ring.

Aunty Cath stepped over to me and slipped her hands under my armpits, then effortlessly lifted me into the air. She sat down on one of the overstuffed yellow lounge chairs in the sunroom, and then lowered me so that my bare thighs were forced apart by one of her knees. The aroma of my dirty nappy escaped the popping elastic waistband of my sagging baby panties. A miasmic cloud wafted up to my face, the familiar musty-earth scent of my fresh poo-poos somehow soothing to my shattered nerves. Aunty Cath dragged me closer and I suddenly found myself straddling her plump womanly thigh, my dirty wet bottom slowly settling into the thick pile of hot squishy poop filling the seat of my nappy.

Aunty Cath's legs were so long and her heels so high, there was no way my frantically searching toes could reach the carpet. I shuddered as the hot mushy waste spread smoothly all over my bottom, sliding up the groove of my botty-crack towards the small of my back and smooshing moistly between my wide-spread thighs. Cath dandled me on her knee like I was a helpless infant - and with my heavy wet nappies full of smelly fresh poop, I could hardly object to the humiliating baby role I was being forced to play.

I instinctively spread my thighs wider to give my squishy poo-poos room to spread out, and was rewarded to feel more hot excrement mush forward to press against my sensitive sack. Little pockets of gas trapped inside the soft turds bubbled and popped against my skin, making it tingle delightfully. As I settled deeper into the hot creamy mess some even crept around to my peenie. It automatically began to swell and thicken in response, no matter how hard I tried to stop it.

"Is Mummy right, Baby Jennie? Is that the story, my gorgeous little baby girl?" Aunty Cath crooned to me in cloying saccharine baby tones. She began to gently bounce her knee up and down, dandling me on her knee. I was rocked back and forth in the erotic warm mess that enveloped me as she questioned me like I was a real toddler. "Does our little Baby Jennie like sitting in her stinky wet poopy nappies, hmmm? Does she? Does our precious little Potty-Princess enjoy playing in her warm squishy nap-naps?"

Despite the humiliating questions and the shameful manner in which she addressed me, my peenie only grew harder inside the humid confines of my filthy wet nappy. The way Aunty was bouncing and rocking me on her thigh made my stiffening tool creep further up the soggy warm front of my clinging diaper, and the fresh creamy poop seemed to make it slip and slide about more sensuously. The sensitive underside of my cock head was repeatedly pressed against the wonderful warm wetness, until I moaned quietly at the pleasurable erotic sensations.

My beautiful Aunty's piercing green eyes bored into mine as she wondered aloud, "Or perhaps our Baby Jennie just loves dressing up like a pretty little girl? She looks so precious in her gorgeous pink toddler frock and matching bloomers, I would be surprised if she didn't want to dress like a beautiful little girl all the time!" I moaned and squeezed my eyelids tightly shut so she couldn't see the truth in my soul as she continued interrogating me. Aunty Cath crooned, "Is that it, Baby Jennie? Does dressing like a sweet little girl excite you? Or is it acting like a helpless little baby and making big stinky messes in your hot wet nappies which secretly arouses you?"

I started sniffing back the tears brought forth by my beautiful Aunty's probing questions. The answers were too difficult to face, even if I'd been sure of the truth. The only thing I was certain of was, that I was now throbbing and rock-hard inside my saturated messy nappies - as I was sure my Aunty and Mummy were soon about to discover. I burst into a flood of tears when Aunty Cath simply tilted me back with one hand tightly gripping my shoulder, and then probed and poked at my wet diapered groin with her free hand.

"You're right, Isabell," Cath noted in in a tone of disgust. She frowned and nodded balefully to Mummy when she discovered the erection visibly tenting out the front of my smelly drenched nappy. She grabbed my throbbing stiffie right through my panties and the dirty wet diapers and squeezed hard, making me squeal loudly in pleasure/pain as the first hot tears trickled down my red cheeks. Aunty ignored my shrill tearful cries and scathingly commented, "She's excited alright. And smelly! Pooh! What a disgusting, stinky little cry-baby she is. We'd better change your dirty baby girl's messy nappy right away."

Aunty Cath grunted with effort as she stood while gripping me under the armpits. She shifted me to her right and carried me over her hip like a big baby as she followed Mummy upstairs and into the Nursery. My poop-coated hard-on was pressed against her side, my little legs instinctively wrapping around her plump womanly bottom for support. She detached me and lowered me to my feet beside the change table. The two women undressed me down to my droopy nappy and glistening panties as they candidly discussed my woeful aberrant behaviour. Aunty then lifted me onto the change table and as they stripped me of my black patent Maryjane shoes and frilly socks, they talked about me as though I wasn't even there.

"A few days ago I noticed her rubbing her crotch through her wet nappy for the first time. Yesterday I caught her pressing her genitals against the crib mattress first thing in the morning. But she seems even worse after she’s dirtied her diapers as well," Mummy informed my frowning Aunty. Cath brusquely commanded me to lift my bum so she could pull down my damp plastic panties. "I also caught her surreptitiously caressing the front of her panties with her hand dozens of times, always when she thinks she isn't being watched,” Mummy complained. “And when I call her over to check her nappy, she's often fully aroused inside her wet and sometimes messy diapers." They acted like I couldn't understand them; as though I really was only two years old and incapable of comprehending adult speech. The way they ignored me only deepened my humiliation and hot tears of shame trickled down my burning red cheeks.

"Just like now," commented Aunty Cath in a tone brimming with contempt. She peeled away the front of my soggy nappy with a disgusting loud 'squelch!' My shameful erection was fully engorged, covered with stinky brown filth and bobbing above my tummy in excitement. I covered my tear-filled eyes with my hands to block out their sneering faces, the first of many sobs catching in my throat. "Dear oh dear! Have you tried spanking her?" Aunty asked Mummy. I cringed at the callous reply.

"I told you when we went shopping for her dolly yesterday; the next time I caught my dirty little girl rubbing her crotch or pressing her nappy front against something, she'd be in for it," replied my scowling mother, adding acidly; "She copped a severe bottom spanking this morning, let me assure you!"
"Bare-bottom?" inquired my Aunty with almost indecent interest. She expertly wiped up most of the mess between my wide-spread thighs with the drenched nappy front, and then she handed the heavily soiled cloth napkins to my grimacing mother to take to the bathroom and sluice in the toilet. "I always prefer to spank my naughty girls bare-bottomed."

"Oh no!" Mummy tersely replied from the Nursery en-suite, her voice echoing oddly because of the tiles. "Baby Jennie was absolutely filthy this morning when I caught her at it in her cot! Her nappy was drenched and full of smelly poo-poos. I didn't want to take the time to clean up baby before punishing her. I just dumped her over my lap and whaled into to her messy backside with my hand, dirty wet nappies and all."
"Very sensible," my Aunty heartily agreed. "But next time, give her another bare-bottom spanking after you clean her up, as well. I find that drives home the lesson much more effectively."

I continued to sniffle and cry when I contemplated the potential fate awaiting me. Despite my fears my filth-covered erection refused to dwindle, especially when Aunty carefully scrubbed every square millimeter of my excited stiffie and sensitive ball sack again and again with the soothing baby wipes. When Aunty Cath finally seemed satisfied I was clean enough in front, she collected my slender ankles in one huge hand and hoisted my feet high into the air. She snorted disdainfully as she forcibly pressed my toes back towards my tear-streaked face. She folded me in half like a helpless infant, raising my poopy bottom high. This made my botty cheeks splay wide, so she could more easily scrub at the remaining sticky brown mess wedged between them.

Tears of shame continued to well from my eyes as my Aunty carefully wiped the backs of my thighs and my bottom clean. Tears trickled into my ears, distracting me and making everything sound funny. When she figured I was safe enough, Aunty Cath lifted me down from the change table and stood me beside her on unsteady legs. Mummy flushed the toilet and exited the bathroom as her sister led me waddling past by the hand. The air was ripe with the smell of my most recent poopy nappy. I heard Mummy drop the rinsed nappies in the nappy bucket and replace the lid with a loud sigh of despair. I knew I would be doing more laundry that afternoon.

As if on cue Aunty asked; "Have you started Baby Jennie washing her own dirty nappies yet, as I suggested?"
"Yes I have," Mummy testily replied, returning to the bathroom sink to wash her smelly hands. I could see her dark green eyes watching me in the mirror over the vanity basin. Her grim expression clearly revealed her annoyance. "Baby Jennie is going to become quite the laundry expert over the next few weeks, saving her poor over-worked Mummy from at least one unpleasant daily task."

Aunty Cath lifted me naked and shivering into the cold empty bathtub. She curtly ordered, “Climb down on your hands and knees baby, with your bottom facing me.” I assumed the humiliating exposed position. I felt even more embarrassed when my Aunty crudely insisted, “Reach behind you with both hands and pull those poopy bum cheeks all the way apart, Baby Jennie. Go on. Do it!” I let my hot red forehead rest against the cool white rim of the enamel tub. I stretched my soiled buttocks as far apart as I could, till my wrinkled brown hole was practically winking at my Aunty and Mummy. “That’s a good baby,” Aunty Cath praised me in treacle tones.

I flinched, gasping in shock when my cruel aunt aimed the stinging icy-cold spray from the hand-held shower head right at my tender puckered opening. She snapped imperiously, "Keep still, Baby Jennie! You keep holding those dirty cheeks wide apart for Aunty. Do as you're told,you disgusting, wicked little girl!" I sniffed back hot tears of humiliation as I clumsily gripped my dirty cheeks again and I submissively pulled them wider apart. My beautiful Aunty Cath viciously hosed down my bottom crack with the freezing high-pressure spray until I felt certain I must be pink and shining clean back there. Then she curtly ordered. “Alright baby girl, let go of those bum cheeks and roll onto your back so I can do your front.”

When I was too slow to obey her bossy big sister, my growling Mummy grabbed my shoulders and swiftly twirled me over. Mummy held my arms down so I couldn't wriggle away or interfere, and Aunty used her free forearm to keep my knees spread. The forceful cold spray was like a hundred icy needles on my bobbing hard-on and delicate ball sack and I shrieked in pain. Aunty kept the stinging torrent directed at my filthy stiffie and sack until I started to wilt under their brutal handling. I ineffectually thrashed on my back while crying and begging them to stop, but my grim-faced Mummy and scowling Aunty were remorseless. When they decided I was sufficiently clean, Mummy inserted the bath plug. I was given a quick but thorough, scalding-hot baby bath by the cantankerous women.

I was limp as a wet rag when Aunty hauled me bodily out of the emptying tub. She roughly dried my steaming pink body with a huge cream bath towel, scowling all the while. My tears fell unheeded as she carried me into the Nursery and lowered me onto my back on the padded change table. "What a sissy baby you are, Baby Jennie! A great big, sissy cry-baby," Aunty Cath scornfully scolded me. She none-too-gently towelled away the remaining drops of moisture from my spread thighs and groin.

"Did you bring what I asked for?" Mummy asked her cryptically.
She smiled thinly when my Aunty replied, "Of course! It's in my handbag in the kitchen."
"Wait a moment before you pin on Baby Jennie's nappies. I have a new trick to show you." Mummy dashed off downstairs while Aunty Cath arranged two of my thick terrycloth nappies together between my legs like she’d been doing it all her life. Mummy returned a minute later, and it was just as well I couldn't see the grim smile contorting her pink painted lips.

My domineering Aunty stood at the foot end of the table and lifted my legs with one hand, propping her forearm behind my folded knees. She slid the two cloth nappies under my raised rear and correctly placed them with disarming ease. Mummy stepped closer to the side the change table and waited until Aunty Cath lowered my feet. My bottom came to rest on the familiar pile of soft cotton and Mummy ordered, "Hold Baby Jennie's ankles wide apart. Hold them firmly, now." I didn't see the flash of annoyance in Aunty Cath's emerald eyes at the unnecessary added instruction, but I felt my lower limbs being forcefully wrenched apart. I squealed in alarm. I knew what it was as soon as it was pressed against my tender pink ball sack and shrunken peenie.

My angry Mummy was using Justine's frozen spoon trick! I wailed like a banshee and desperately tried to thrash out of my Aunty's vise-like grip. The icy cold metal instantly made everything shrivel like a dead leaf in the sun. My tiny terrified balls disappeared completely inside my body this time, and my shrinking peenie shrank into a tiny pink acorn.

I screamed like a little girl and begged for mercy. When I tried to push Mummy's hand away, she savagely smacked my wrists aside with her free hand. The tears streamed down my flushed red cheeks in torrents as I sobbed and wailed like a baby. By the time she removed the freezing spoon from my genitals, I couldn't tell. I was so cold down there, I had gone completely numb.

"See?" demanded Mummy. She stepped behind Aunty Cath and reached for the object bulging out of the back pocket of her jeans. She almost had to shout to be heard above my wails of distress. "I noticed when her babysitter Justine did this to her at the Church Nursery this morning, her genitals almost - Well, you know?"
"Yes, I can see," Aunty yelled in reply. "She almost looks like a proper baby girl down there now. Her testicles are almost non-existent, and that looks so much like a little clittie… If only she had a pretty puffy slit, instead of -" Aunty released my ankles and my thrashing feet crashed against the padded table. Cath disdainfully flicked the tip of my frozen shrivelled peenie, like a gardener trying to dislodge a noxious slug. I barely felt a thing.

I heard the sound of a package being ripped open, but my eyes were filled with stinging salty tears. The whole world look blurry. "Here you are, Baby Jennie," Mummy crooned to me as she stepped to the head of the change table. She ignored the rivulets running down my face, and slipped something soft between my quivering wet lips. The tip hit my tongue and I reflexively began to suck. It was a baby's dummy!

I felt the soft latex teat fill my mouth. As I experimentally pressed my tongue against the bottom of it, my sobbing instinctively slowed. The edge of the pink plastic guard bobbed distractingly against my snub nose as I began to rhythmically suck on the pacifier like a distressed toddler searching for comfort. Sudden images of Justine's beautiful creamy breast and her hard swollen nipple leapt unbidden to my mind. Amazingly enough the huge baby soother did seem to help calm my shattered nerves. My tears finally began to subside as Aunty sprinkled the sweetly perfumed talc over my miniscule peenie and frozen empty sack.

"It's a pink 'Nuk number four' pacifier - a 'therapeutic trainer' they call it; but to me it looks like a great big dummy for a great big baby girl," Aunty Cath commented with a sneer, as she carelessly massaged the baby powder into my numbed genitals.
"It's perfect!" Mummy agreed, genuinely smiling for the first time in ages as she happily gazed down at my tear-streaked face and limp, unresponsive peenie. "That's it, Baby Jennie," she cooed to me, patting my cheek. "You just suck your dummy, baby, like a good little baby girl." Mummy brushed her sister aside and took over my diapering, tightly double-pinning the nappies in place. Aunty Cath sorted through the supply of rustling plastic panties in the drawer to find a pair for me she liked. She handed my mother the shiny yellow transparent pair of pull-up pilchers, the ones with narrow white lace ruffles around the waist and leg bands. I compliantly raised my legs and arched my feet, pointing my toes so Mummy could more easily slip the baby panties over my feet and up my legs.

"Oh, look how Baby Jennie points her toesies for Mummy like a pretty ballerina!" Aunty Cath mockingly observed. She laughed gaily when my blushes intensified. Surely my overbearing Aunty couldn't know about the pretend ballet classes I used to take with my neighbour Sally and her little sister? She couldn't! That was inconceivable!

Mummy's grim smile returned as she commanded in cloying baby talk, "Lift your bot-bot for Mummy, Baby Jennie." I pushed aside the happy memories of dressing up in my girlfriend's old tutu and obediently raised my bulky swaddled bum high off the table. Mummy tugged the waistband of the crackling plastic panties safely up around my waist. "And down, baby," she ordered simply. When my rustling padded rear flopped back on the table, Mummy casually forced my knees wide so she could safely tuck the tight elastic leg bands under the bulging nappy crotch to prevent any leaks.

Aunty Cath then took her place at the foot of the change table. She slipped some sheer white cotton socks on my feet, urging me in honeyed baby tones; "Point your toesies again for Aunty Cath like a pretty ballerina, Baby Jennie, to make it easier to put your sockies on. That’s it. Ballerina toesies! Good girl! What a clever baby girl!" She grinned in malicious satisfaction when I cringed in shame, even as I submissively obeyed her humiliating commands. She rolled the sock tops down to reveal the delicate yellow lace frills shimmering around my ankles, fussing with them till they were neat and even. Mummy sorted through the dressing table drawers and returned with my lemon-yellow snap-crotch romper suit, which she shook out and held up to display for her sister's approval.

"A baby romper suit! How sweet!" Aunty Cath trilled with another gay laugh. Mummy fed my arms and head through the tight elastic-cuffed holes and tugged the snug stretchy terry romper down over my torso. She even remembered to open the romper collar wider in front so the flange of my new pacifier wouldn't get caught.

I had to lift my padded bottom high in the air again so Mummy could grab the back crotch piece, dragging it down between my splayed thighs until she could make it and the front flap meet. While Mummy clipped closed the five tiny chromed snap fasteners between my legs, Aunty Cath adjusted the snug shirred elastic waistband of my juvenile yellow romper. "I was going to dress her up in something pretty for you, but Baby Jennie only owns three good frocks. Plus I want my naughty baby girl to do some more washing today, and we don't normally wear our best Sunday dresses while doing the laundry. Do we, Baby Jennie?"

Both women turned to gaze down at me, waiting expectantly for my response. "No Mummy," I squeaked around the dummy clamped between my lips. I sucked harder on the baby soother in red-faced embarrassment when they both smiled thinly and nodded in approval.

"I may be able to help you out in the frock department," Aunty commented with a bright smile.
Mummy nodded diffidently and craftily replied, "We'll chat later." She slipped my pink sandshoes in place on my feet. She tied the laces for me like I was incapable of tying them myself, then lifted me down from the change table and stood me on wobbly legs.

From her handbag Aunty Cath produced a short pink plastic chain with a decorative clip. She proceeded to attach one end to the loop of the dummy in my mouth. I almost went cross-eyed trying to watch her nimble fingers, her long shiny red nails flashing like rubies as she fastened the pink child-proof catch. She attached the dangling clip to the white Broderie-Anglaise trim around the neckline of my babyish yellow outfit, and then straightened the lace collar till it sat flat against my body.

Aunty Cath twirled me around, chuckling with amusement and commenting on the way the clinging romper suit snugly hugged my tiny waist, yet clearly exaggerated my big padded rear. She swatted my puffy butt for emphasis. She rearranged the tight elastic cuffs around the tops of my thighs so that the white lace ruffles of my baby panties poked out from beneath, smiling in delight at the attractive feminine effect. I stood there swaying and wobbling unsteadily in my bulky fresh nappies as she tugged me this way and that, instinctively sucking harder on my dummy for comfort.

"She certainly seems to love her new dum-dums," Aunty Cath observed, with a wry smile for the loud sucking noises I was making. She gave the pink pacifier ring a teasing tug. I bit down instinctively and sucked even harder to avoid losing the fat latex nipple, my noisy automatic reaction making her laugh.

"And why wouldn't she?" demanded my irritated mother with a disgusted sneer. "All babies love to suck their dummies."
"Well she certainly looks like a big baby now. A great big baby girl! Does Angelica still use a pacifier?" Cath asked with an innocent wide-eyed expression - as if she didn't already know the answer.
"Oh no! Angelica's a big girl now. She gave up her dummy months ago. But seeing as my little Baby Jennie here clearly enjoys being a diapered baby girl so much; she can keep sucking her dum-dums for a while longer."

When Mummy turned to me her voice was soft and cajoling, but her cold green eyes were like shards of fjord ice. "So you just keep sucking that dum-dums, Baby Jennie. In fact, seeing that you love it so much, you can just keep it in your mouth until your Aunty or I tell you that you can spit it out. Is that clearly understood, my naughty little baby girl?"

I sucked louder and harder in misery as I nodded submissively, the pink plastic dummy chain bouncing lightly against my chest. Mummy pointed to the end of the change table. "Carry the nappy bucket down to the laundry, little girl, and dump your dirty nappies in the washing machine. Try not to drop anything this time! Don't you dare make a mess, Baby Jennie," Mummy warned me with a forbidding frown. I grumpily stuck out my bottom lip like a petulant toddler, but fortunately my sulky mouth was mostly concealed by the wide pink guard of my new dummy.

I grunted with effort as I hefted the heavy bucket full of stinky used nappies. As I hauled it downstairs, the lid became dislodged. I had to put up with the stench of my stale wet nappies and smelly fresh poo-poos filling the air around me all the way to the small tiled room at the back of the house. After I completed the disgusting task of transferring the heavy soiled nappies into the washing machine and distributing them around the stainless-steel drum, Mummy wandered in to check I had used the correct amount of detergent and fabric conditioner. Satisfied everything was in the right place, she nodded curtly and stood back, watching to ensure I set the controls to the right level of water and agitator intensity.

"What a clever baby girl!" Was Aunty Cath's only sarcastic comment from the kitchen doorway, when the machine turned on and started to noisily fill with water. I ignored her taunts and sucked on my dummy teat as I awkwardly washed my smelly little hands in the high laundry tub.

"Baby Jennie, go and find your dolly Justine in the sunroom and keep her with you while you play with Angelica. Aunty Cath and I will be along in a minute to make sure you are playing with your dolly properly like a good little baby girl," Mummy sternly commanded.

"And make sure you keep sucking that dummy, Baby Jennie!" Aunty Cath ordered tartly. I could hear the cruel amusement in her tone. Without daring to look up at my grinning Aunty's face, I meekly sidled past her and waddled slowly towards the sunroom, sucking noisily on my pacifier like an obedient toddler. I could feel Aunty Cath's emerald eyes staring at my big padded bottom all the way down the gloomy hallway, until I disappeared from sight around the corner.

When she heard the familiar loud sucking noises, Angelica looked up from where she was lying on her tummy on the carpeted sunroom floor. She was sorting through some coloured pencils, but she paused and smiled when she saw the huge pink dummy bobbing in my mouth. "You're sucking a dummy, Baby Jennie!" Angie commented in amazement. She sat up and exclaimed, "Why?"
"Mummy made me do it," I childishly mumbled around the fat latex soother clamped between my lips. I bowed my head in shame as I picked up my smelly dolly from the floor.

My superior little sister thoughtfully contemplated my cowed submissive stance and nodded her head in dawning comprehension. "I don't need a dummy anymore," she stated proudly, smiling smugly up at me. "Mummy said I was a big girl when I turned three, and I didn't need one anymore. But you need a dummy, Baby Jennie, so you must be littler than me."

I couldn't disagree with her cruel logic. I turned away to conceal my crimson cheeks. I cuddled my dirty baby Justine in my arms, wrinkling my nose in distaste at the nasty stale poo-poo aroma wafting up around my face from her dirty diaper. I gazed forlornly out the window and noisily sucked on my new pacifier, while I watched the heavy rain pelting against the glass turn the world beyond into a miserable grey-green blur. Despite having to wear the humiliating toddler harness and restrictive chain leash, I wished it was fine and sunny, so I could go outside and play with Angie in the sandpit - far from the harsh scrutiny and unwelcome attention of the grown-ups.

Angelica returned to her position lying on the carpet on her tummy, with her dolly Sophie resting on her back beside her. She ignored me and continued colouring in one of her picture books. I stood watching her fow a few minutes, lost in reverie. When I heard the sound of approaching high-heeled footsteps from the hallway, I quickly lay down on my tummy a few feet from Amgie. I carefully placed my smelly dolly on her back by my side, away from my little sister. "Can I do thome colouring-in, too?" I humbly asked from around my mouth-filling pacifier. I gave Angelica an appreciative smile when she slid over a colouring-in book and some pencils she wasn't using.

"Good girls! Look at my well-behaved toddler girls," came our mother's ringing words of praise from behind me. I wasn't game to complain that Angie had handed me a 'My Little Pony' colouring book. I started colouring in a picture of a dancing pony with a vermillion pencil. The room lit up momentarily as a bolt of lightning flashed outside, and we could hear the heavy rain drumming overhead on the sunroom's tin roof.

"That's what I like to see," Aunty Cath cheerfully agreed, walking around in front of me to inspect our work. "Sweet little girls who know how to play quietly together. Not like noisy, rough, nasty boys." She chuckled in derision as she pulled a face like she could smell something horrid. I ducked my face away, glad she didn't see the frown of annoyance mostly concealed by my pink pacifier guard.

Angie and I concentrated on our colouring-in while the adults drank coffee and conversed sitting on the nearby sofa. The rest of the morning seemed to disappear in a flash. The women started discussing Aunt Cathy's bossy teenage daughters and their overflowing wardrobes, but as the conversation thankfully didn't concern me, I soon stopped listening. The sound of torrential rain pounding on the roof drowned out most of what they were saying, anyway. I continued to suck absent-mindedly on the rubber teat in my mouth as I tried to avoid colouring outside the lines, my little sister leaning over now and then to critcise or compliment me on my work. The next thing I knew Mummy was taking the pencils from our fingers and helping us put everything away in the bottom drawer under the coffee table. "I'll take this one, you can take Baby Jennie," Mummy pronounced, lifting Angie into the air and carrying her into the kitchen.

"Come here, little girl," Aunty Cath ordered softly, crooking her index finger at me in invitation. As soon as I drew close, she dropped to one knee in front of me. She slipped a searching finger inside the crotch of my romper suit and wormed it under one tight leg band of my baby panties. Her huge bosom surged forward inside the confines of her tight red satin blouse, and I noticed the top three buttons were daringly unfastened. Her creamy fleshy mounds were barely contained by the generous cups of her black lace bra. I could see right into the bountiful cleavage formed by her lush heaving breasts. I tore my eyes from that entrancing sight with great difficulty and lifted my chin to meet her searching emerald eyes. "Are you wet yet, Baby Jennie?" Aunty asked coyly, looking searchiingly into my wide blue eyes. I blushed and anxiously shook my head in denial.
"I don't think tho," I lisped uncertainly around my soother, making her smile even as her probing fingers touched my groin. She pressed against the cloth bunched between my spread thighs.

"Oh yes you are!" Aunty Cath sang with a superior knowing smirk. I must have looked shocked because when she withdrew her glistening fingers, she sniffed them and her cruel smile broadened in confirmation. I realised that I must have wet my nappy while I was lying on my tummy colouring in, and I hadn't even felt it happening! "What a hopeless, wet baby girl you are!" Aunty commented snidely. She pressed her moist fingertips under my nose and held them against the bobbing pink flange of my pacifier until I inhaled. "What can you smell, Baby Jennie?" she softly demanded, her emerald-green eyes locked on mine. The humiliating scent of fresh urine filled my nostrils.

I felt my cheeks blushing bright red as I hesitantly stuttered, "W-w-wee-wee. It'th - it'th wee-weeth, Aunty Cath."
"Yes Baby Jennie, it's wee-wees. And whose wee-wees is it?" She asked, her light tone innocent and wondering. As her superior smile broadened, her beautiful red painted lips drew back to reveal her small, even white teeth.

I knew what she wanted me to say. My face fell and my cheeks turned crimson with shame when I admitted my infantile lack of control. "It'th my wee-weeth, Aunty. I wet my nappy. I'm thorry. I didn't know I wath wet." My high-pitched lisp made me sound even more feminine and babyish, and I cringed under her condescending smile.

"Just like a real baby," was her harsh but accurate assessment. She firmly patted the warm damp cloth bunched around my sensitive genitals through my romper suit. "But I think that lovely thick nappy will see you through until nap time. Come on, baby girl. Let's take you into the kitchen for lunch. Up we go, Baby Jennie!"

She whisked me into the air and cradled me in her arms like a baby all the way to the kitchen, where she slid me into my waiting highchair and buckled the restraining straps in place. As she tightened the worn white leather waist strap around my tummy, it compressed my bladder - which seemed to automatically empty at the slightest provocation these days. I wriggled around in the comforting soggy warmth, sliding forward so my trickling peenie was pressed against the wide leather crotch strap. The wet cloth pressed against my genitals until they were surrounded by the comforting soggy warmth, and my peenie instinctively reacted. Mummy secured Angelica in her booster seat and clipped a bib around her neck while Aunty Cath locked my tray in place. Then Mummy clipped a white terry bib around my neck, too.

"These are kind of plain," Aunty Cath commented with a frown, smoothing out the wide bib covering my chest. I tried to ignore her and wriggled my hips further forward, until my thickening peenie pressed harder against the front of my hot wet nappy. Under the highchair tray, the broad wooden centre strut which forced my thighs so delightfully wide apart also kept the soggy warm cloth rubbing against the sensitive underside of my swollen glans. "If you like, you can give me a few of Baby Jennie's bibbies to take home. I could sew some pretty lace around the edges or around the collars. I could even have some cute little messages embroidered onto them," she suggested with a sly smile.

My mother smiled tightly before replying. "I wouldn't want you to go to too much trouble-"
"No trouble at all!" Aunty cut off my mother's half-hearted objections with a broad smile and a dismissive wave of her hand. "It would be a pleasure to make something pretty for my gorgeous new baby niece." There was something about her wolfish smile I didn't like, but I was too afraid to comment. I remained mute and wary as Aunty plucked out my dummy and unclipped the chain from my lacy collar. "You can have your dum-dums back when you've finished eating lunch, Baby Jennie," she informed me with a mocking grin, shaking the glistening fat pacifier dangling on the pink plastic chain in front of my face. As if I was concerned about having my dummy returned!

Mummy had made pumpkin soup for lunch from fresh butternut pumpkins. Aunty Cath grinned malevolently at me as she stirred the steaming contents of a pink plastic Barbie bowl. She tested a little of the orange puree against her full red lips to check the temperature, then smiled enticingly at me. Satisfied it wouldn't burn me, she urged in condescending baby tones; "Open up, Baby Jennie! Aunty Cath has some lovely-wovely soup for you to eat." She pressed the laden spoon into my mouth and tipped it up, wiping it against my top lip as she withdrew the utensil. She deliberately smeared the tip of my nose and my upper lip with warm orange mush.

My cruel Aunty seemed to find it highly amusing to intentionally miss my mouth on the odd occasion, making sure my cheeks and chin were soon covered with mushy orange puree. Soon I could feel the warm goop trickling down my face, spilling onto the bib covering my chest. "Baby Jennie is such a messy eater," she mock-reproved me. She laughed gaily when a large chunk of pumpkin uncontrollably slid down my quivering chin. Aunty Cath waited until the warm orange lump had dripped onto my stained terry bib, before spooning it up and shoving it back between my messy lips. "Waste not, want not," she sang, chuckling at my woebegone expression.

She treated me like a completely helpless baby, singing things like; "Here comes the choo-choo! Where's the tunnel, little girl?" Or "Here comes the aeroplane! Open the hangar wide! That's it, baby! What a clever baby girl!" Of course I had no choice but to open wide and accept everything she shovelled into my mouth. Sometimes she barely gave me time to swallow before pressing the next laden spoonful against my messy lips. I contented myself with discretely pressing my excited little stiffie against the highchair tray strut, rocking and rolling my hips, letting the pleasurable sensation of my warm wet nappy wrapped sensuously around my hard-on distract me from my humiliating infantile treatment.

I glanced over to see Angelica was feeding herself, and there wasn't a single drop of soup on her bib. She turned to watch me being spoon-fed like a helpless baby and when she caught my eye, she tossed me a smug superior smirk. I couldn't meet her cool unwavering stare. I returned my eyes to the Barbie bowl sitting on the highchair tray in front of me, praying that it would soon empty and my humiliation would come to an end. Aunty finally scraped the bottom of the pink plastic bowl as she soundly praised me. "Aww, what a good baby girl! You ate it all up! Isn't Baby Jennie precious, eating up all her lunchie-poos like a good baby girl for her Aunty Cath?"

She was grinning madly as she carelessly wiped my messy face with a relatively clean corner of my bib. When she let the soiled napkin drop to my chest, Mummy handed her sister my pink sippy-cup full of warm milk. Aunty Cath took the pink plastic cup and pressed the sipping spout between my lips, and I automatically began to suck. I went to take it from her but she simply batted my hands away - as though I was too incompetent to even hold my own sippy-cup. I clutched the sides of the highchair tray in red-faced embarrassment, sucking harder on the pink sipping spout to more swiftly drain the contents.

Aunty Cath merely scolded me for drinking too fast. She clucked her tongue and ordered me to slow down, lecturing me in saccharine toddler tones about how swallowing too quickly gives babies wind. By the time I drained my cup, Mummy and Angelica had finished their lunches. I noticed my sister had been allowed to drink her blue sippy-cup of warm milk unassisted, and I felt a twinge of jealousy.

After Mummy finished gently wiping Angie's face and hands with a warm wet washcloth, she approached me with a grim smile. "You certainly are a messy little girl today, Baby Jennie!" I whimpered in pain as Mummy savagely scoured my filthy chin and cheeks with the same warm washer. When I tried to turn my face away, she grabbed the back of my head with her other hand to hold me in place and scrubbed even harder. "Baby Jennie is such a messy eater!" Mummy unfairly scolded me, rubbing remorselessly at my tender lips until every last fleck of dried orange gunk had been painfully scraped away. After she finished washing my hands and cleaning the messy highchair tray, she unbuckled the seat belt at the back of the highchair, then unlocked and removed the wooden tray.

I stretched my arms up and yawned hugely, causing my Aunty to wryly comment; "It looks like our little Baby Jennie is all tuckered out and ready for her afternoon nap!"
"I'm not tired," I whined like a sulky pre-schooler. When the adults merely laughed in response, I involuntarily yawned again to give lie to my words. "I'm not tired!" I repeated unnecessarily. I tried unsuccessfully to strangle a second yawn, unaware that I sounded exactly like a cranky over-tired toddler.

"Of course you're not, sweetie!" Mummy pretended to heartily agree. After placing a folded tea towel over her shoulder, she held me against her full bosom so my freshly-scrubbed chin rested on the cotton towel, patting and rubbing my back firmly. I saw Aunty Cath smile and I blushed rosily when I produced a hearty belch, totally beyond my control. "Good girl!" Mummy condescendingly praised me. She firmly patted my back until I involuntarily burped again. "Good baby! That's better. We don't want my little Baby Jennie having a windy tummy during her afternoon nap, now do we?" Mummy brushed the restraining straps aside from my lap and lifted me down. She gripped my hand tightly as I trudged down the hallway towards the staircase. I realised my unwelcome erection had thankfully dwindled when I felt another scalding-hot gush of fresh wee-wees filling my saturated nappy.

When Aunty Cath joined us upstairs in the Nursery she was carrying my smelly baby doll at arm's length. She placed Justine on her back in my open crib with a loud sniff of disapproval, then she stepped over to where I lay on the change table, proudly holding up my new pacifier like I’d won a prize. After licking both the latex nipple and the inside of the pink plastic guard till they were glistening with her saliva, she pressed the huge dripping dummy teat between my parted lips. It felt like a sloppy wet kiss against my lips and I grimaced in disgust.

A grinning Cath clipped the chain to the collar of my romper suit. "There you go, Baby Jennie," she cooed in honeyed baby tones, sniggering quietly as I obediently sucked on the drool-covered latex teat. "We wouldn't put our precious baby girl down in her crib for her afternoon nap without her dum-dums, would we?"
"I don't think my little baby girl has thanked her Aunty yet for buying her a new dummy. Has she?" Mummy pointedly asked, with a warning glance for me. "Say thank you to Aunty Cath for your new dum-dums, Baby Jennie, like a polite little girl."

I knew I had no choice. My cheeks blazed with shame as I timidly glanced up at my beautiful Aunty's smirking face. "Fank you for my new dum-dumth, Aunty Cath," I submissively mumbled. Both women seemed amused by the childish lisp the fat dummy teat caused me to adopt.

"Such good manners, Baby Jennie. How sweet! I like you so much more than that horrid boy Jeremy! I might have to speak to your Mummy about you having a more permanent place in this family, little girl." She laughed gaily and so did Mummy, but I wasn't sure if she was joking or not.

Mummy discussed her plans for my impending toilet training with her sister while she efficiently removed my drenched nappies and thoroughly cleaned my pee-stained loins. I was so emotionally drained and exhausted, my eyes kept drifting closed. I couldn't concentrate on what they were saying. Mummy sprinkled powder all over my freshly-cleaned crotch and bottom, and then gently rubbed it in. Moments later I was safely pinned into a thick comfy nappy, and the crackling yellow baby panties were tugged over the top and then tucked in. I was already half asleep when they lay me back in the cot next to my reeking doll, and my grim-faced Aunty raised and locked the side rail. I instinctively pressed my plush pink teddy between my knees as I rolled onto my side facing the wall, away from my stinky baby. I think I fell fast asleep sucking on my pacifier before the grown-ups even left the room.

To be continued in chapter 7.

Chapter 7. Cousins Bonnie and April

I was awakened from my nap by Mummy leaning against the rattling crib rail. I was lying on my back and my warm wet nappy was a delightful sodden weight pressing against my genitals. When I wriggled about I could tell I was drenched around my bottom, too. I realised I must have peed more than once while I slept like a baby. I could smell poo-poos as well, but I felt pretty sure it wasn't my nappy. For a moment I suspected Angelica might be the culprit. Then I realised it was my dolly Justine's dirty diaper stinking up the Nursery.

Mummy's impassive face loomed over the raised cot side as she pressed her cupped palm over the front of my nappy. I think she was checking to see if I was hard as well as wet, and I shrank away from her searching hand in guilty embarrassment. I was sure she could feel how warm and full my nappy was, even through my romper and baby panties. Despite the fact that I was flaccid down there, she frowned sadly and shook her head in disappointment. She unlocked and lowered the clattering crib rail and lifted me out, and I was relieved I wasn't aroused when she carried me straight over to the change table.

"Pooh, Baby Jennie! Have you pooped your nappy again, little girl?" Mummy mournfully demanded with that tired air of long-suffering. She brusquely unfastened the snap-crotch of my stretchy yellow romper and the front flap flew up over my tummy. I shook my head in mute denial, only then remembering I still had the big pink dummy clamped between my lips. With a start I realised I must have unwittingly been sucking on the oversized infant soother while I slept - just like a real baby! I went to pluck the humiliating baby soother from my lips, but Mummy’s hand stopped me.

“Ah-ah-ah, baby girl! Mummy didn’t say you could spit out your dum-dums. Did she?” She pressed the fat rubber teat back between my lips and asked again, “Is your nappy dirty, Baby Jennie?” I shook my head in denial again. Mummy looked doubtful at my negative response but when she pulled down my glistening baby panties and unpinned me, she was pleased to find my heavy nappy was only saturated with wee-wees. No poo-poos. She made short work of cleaning and powdering my damp crotch and bottom. Thankfully my excitable little peenie had only just started to thicken with arousal before she pinned my clean fluffy nappies tightly in place over my tummy.

Mummy turned the yellow plastic panties I had been wearing inside-out. She sniffed the crotch to check them and felt the leg bands, then commented; "These aren't too wet. You can wear the same baby panties this afternoon," she decided, shaking them the right way out before ordering, "Little leggies up and point your toesies like a pretty ballerina, sweetheart." She mimicked her sister Cathy's humiliating instructions, smiling triumphantly at my sheepish pink-cheeked expression as she threaded the plastic panties over my obediently pointed toes.

After she snapped the crotch pieces of my yellow romper suit together, she tied my pink sandshoes on my feet. She lifted me down and then reached into the crib for my dolly, her nose wrinkling in disgust. "My goodness!" Mummy exclaimed as she sniffed the putrid aroma surrounding my baby doll Justine. "Your poor baby's nappy certainly does stink, Baby Jennie." She thrust the smelly doll into my arms and ordered me to cuddle her to my breast, then sent me downstairs. I had to take the nappies out of the drier in the laundry and replace them with the clean ones from the washing machine, then wait by the back door in the kitchen while Mummy changed Angelica's wet diaper.

As I waddled through the house I realised my domineering Aunty Cath must have gone home. I sighed in relief. The way she had interrogated me while dandling me over her knee this morning had been so humiliating! I blushed afresh at the memory of her astute probing questions. Daddy wasn't home yet either, and I ducked into the laundry and removed the warm fluffy nappies from the drier. I folded them up, placing them in the pink plastic laundry basket on the floor. My freshly-washed nappies were twisted like thick ropes when I pulled them out of the washing machine. I untangled them and tossed them in the drier, cleaned out the lint filter, set the timer and switched it on. Then I waited in the kitchen beside the back door as ordered, clutching my smelly Baby Justine to my bosom and sucking noisily on the pliant rubber teat of my mouth-filling dummy.

Mummy crisply strode across the linoleum kitchen floor towards me on her click-clacking pink high heels. She reached for the pink leather toddler harness hanging behind the door. "Put your dolly down and hold your arms up straight, baby girl," she ordered, before threading the harness straps over my obediently pointed hands and dropping it over my head. She buckled it around my chest and waist, and she locked the pink leather crotch strap in place, too, making sure I couldn't escape the humiliating child restraint. I picked up Justine while she opened the back door and despite the pouring rain and swirling wind outside, our tiny tin-roofed back porch was mostly dry. I gazed up despondently at my mother as she carried one of the kitchen chairs out to the porch, and she placed it under a high ceiling beam. She hopped up on the chair in her pink heels, looped my pink leather baby reins around the bare wooden beam, and then nimbly jumped down.

She returned the chair to the kitchen and came back with my pink sippy-cup full of watered-down apple juice. She handed the toddler’s cup to me without a word and then spun me around, before locking the reins to the rear D-rings of my leather harness. She informed me in a spiteful tone, "Your sister and I don't want to have to put up with the yucky smell of your dirty baby any longer, little girl. You can spend an hour or so out here on the back porch with Justine while we watch a movie. Now I want you to keep cuddling your baby safely in your arms like a good little girl should, Baby Jennie. Hear me? After you drink your juice, mind you put that dummy straight back in your mouth. I'll be checking on you from time to time through the sunroom window, so you'd better behave." She stalked back into the house and slammed the door. When I heard her lock the door behind her, I gave a muffled sigh of despair.

Even though it wasn't really that late, the driving wind and pelting rain made everything look dark and gloomy outside. The pink leather reins were just long enough for me to sit with my back against the kitchen screen door. I watched the torrential rain slash the oleander bushes out back, sighing in despair. I spat out my dum-dums and gratefully sucked on the sippy-spout, gulping down the watered-down apple juice. I felt thankful that at least I had something soft and dry to sit on, but even as that thought occurred to me, I realised my nappies were already warming around my bottom. I relished the familiar soothing warmth without caring when I had started weeing.

After I drained my sippy-cup I placed it on the ground beside me. I gathered up my dummy from where it dangled from the slender pink plastic chain against my breast. I popped the fat amber teat into my mouth and sucked hard on my dum-dums, and tightly cuddled my dolly Justine as Mummy commanded. After a while I didn't notice my baby's awful poopy smell so much.

As I watched the rain tumbling down I pondered the provocative questions my pushy Aunt Cath had posed. Why was I excited down there so often of late? Was it because my warm wet nappies were constantly stimulating my sensitive genitals? But when I was dressed up like a sissy girl and I looked at my reflection in the mirror, and I saw a little girl smiling tentatively back at me... For some strange reason, that excited me, too! I wondered how I ever got this weird, even as I felt my peenie growing harder inside the wonderful warm folds of my comfy wet nappy. While I previously used to imagine myself wearing some of Mummy's beautiful silky underwear and her pretty flowing dresses, I now dreamt of being dressed up in some of the gorgeous frilly toddler frocks I'd seen hanging in Angelica's wardrobe.

Even though I knew my sister's baby dresses were way too small for me, my swollen erection grew harder at the thought of being a beautiful pampered baby girl. I rubbed my cupped palm more briskly over the tenting crotch of my rompers, enjoying the stimulation to my little stiffie. I spent most of my punishment time outside absent-mindedly fondling my pulsating tool through my romper suit, baby panties and warm wet nappies. I fantasised about being a gorgeous little girl dressed in the prettiest of toddler frocks, until I heard the distinct sound of Mummy's high heels on the kitchen tiles approaching the locked back door.

I guiltily snatched my hand away from my warm wet crotch and awkwardly clambered to my feet. I clutched my smelly dolly tighter to my breast and sucked noisily on my dum-dums, as Mummy had instructed. When I turned around, I prayed she wouldn't see the tell-tale tenting of my erection through my tight-fitting romper, and I felt grateful when my stiffie instinctively shrivelled in fear.

Mummy stood framed in the kitchen doorway, back-lit, her shadowed face unreadable - although she did seem to be nodding in what I hoped was approval. She stood there for several long seconds while she evaluated my appearance, time dragging by while she seemed to make up her mind. "Leave your dirty baby outside for the moment, Baby Jennie," she ordered curtly, before she spun me around and unbuckled the toddler harness to release me. "Bring your sippy-cup inside and dump it in the sink, and then you can toddle straight upstairs and into the Nursery. Wait for Mummy beside the change table."

Keen to return inside, I hurriedly placed my dirty dolly sitting up with her back against the dry wall. I dashed into the kitchen, discarded my empty cup in the sink, and then waddled as fast as my little legs would carry me upstairs into the empty Nursery. As soon as my erection thankfully subsided I started peeing again, but I ignored the familiar hot trickle between my legs and kept moving.

Mummy followed a minute later leading my frowning sister by one hand. When she lifted Angie onto the change table, I could smell the disgruntled toddler had recently pooped her nappy. Under Mummy's watchful eyes, I removed my sister's soiled disposable diaper with more expertise this time. I sucked harder on my dummy, frowning in concentration as I carefully handed the unfolded smelly item to my stony-faced mother. Soon I had Angie's brown-stained crotch and bot-bot wiped clean and smelling sweetly of lotion and baby powder. Then I taped a clean pastel-pink disposable around her little hips.

I dressed Angelica all by myself, snapping her onesie closed and pulling up her red shorts before Mummy lifted her down. My smiling sister obediently toddled off to join her dolly in front of the TV. Mummy checked my clinging warm nappy and announced in a dismissive tone, “You’re wet - but not saturated. You don’t need changing just yet.” I waddled as fast as my bulky wet nappy would allow me when Mummy commanded, “Go and fetch your dirty baby from outside, little girl, and bring here up here to be changed.”

I returned almost breathless, clutching Justine tightly in my arms. I had to undress my smelly baby and put her pink satin outfit in the laundry basket, then remove the pungent old poopy diaper taped around her hips. Dark brown excreta adhered to Justine's crotch and bottom like paint, and it seemed to take forever to scrub my dirty baby's rubber crotch clean with baby wipes. But I was grateful for the chance to clean my smelly little dolly. The yucky poo-poo had hardened on her latex skin as it dried, and I had to use several handfuls of moist baby wipes before Mummy was satisfied with my cleaning job. I was made to powder Justine's glistening rubber crotch and botty just like she was a real baby and rub it in, too. Then Mummy silently handed me my sister's recently soiled disposable diaper.

I whimpered in dismay as I accepted the foul-smelling package and carefully taped it around my poor dolly's freshly powdered rubber loins. Mummy wordlessly handed me some old small cream plastic panties of Angie's to cover Justine's stinky diaper, and I felt relieved when the crackling worn pilchers reduced the stench considerably. I had to dress my doll in a faded blue baby frock I'm sure once belonged to my sister, and then I was ordered to empty the almost overflowing white plastic bin beside the change table. Despite being tightly sealed in the deodorised orange nappy sacks, the used disposable diapers reeked of stale poo and ammonia. I carried the lined waste basket outside and emptied the contents into the dark green wheelie bin standing at the end of our back porch. By the time I finished scrubbing the white bin in the laundry sink, drying it, and replacing the plastic liner, it was time for Mummy to change my saturated nappy and then wash my face and hands for dinner.

After I was safely buckled into my highchair and the pink wooden tray attached, I was grateful when Mummy unclipped and removed my pacifier. She placed it nearby on the kitchen bench in a small puddle of drool. My top lip was growing sore from the unfamiliar continuous sucking action and it felt like both lips were puffy and swollen. But I dared not complain as Mummy clipped a clean pink bib around my neck. She smiled tightly as she placed a steaming bowl of spaghetti bolognaise on the tray in front of me. Angie was already buckled into her booster seat, fork in hand and busily eating, but I waited patiently till Mummy decided to give me a fork - or start feeding me herself. I wriggled about it my warm wet nappy and slid further forward, so that my sensitive genitals were pressed into the soggy cloth trapped against the strut of highchair tray, and contented myself with discretely rocking backwards and forwards while I waited.

Mummy sat down at the kitchen table beside my sister and started eating her meal. She chatted animatedly to Angie about the movie they'd watched together that afternoon, ignoring me completely. I meekly sat there in confused silence for a few minutes, rocking absent-mindedly and discretely thrusting my hard peenie into the warm wet folds of my soggy nappy, gazing hungrily at the full plastic bowl in front of me. It smelled so good, and I was starving! Despite the potential embarrassment, I decided to give up waiting and simply dug in with my fingers. The meat sauce was still hot, but it had cooled enough to scoop some into my mouth without too much discomfort, along with a few long strands of wiggly thin spaghetti. I noisily sucked up the yummy pasta noodles until they disappeared into my mouth. The flying ends flopped against my cheeks and chin, spraying my face with rich tomato sauce.

Mummy's cooking tasted wonderful, as always; no matter how it was served. I concentrated on shoving as much food in my mouth with my fingers as I could, without making too big a mess. Apparently I wasn't too successful, because before I had consumed half my yummy meal, I heard loud giggles from both my sister and my mother. They had already finished eating, and were watching my infantile attempts to awkwardly finger-feed myself with increasing mirth. I blushed rosily when I realised I was dribbling heavily under their intense scrutiny, and suddenly became aware of the mess I had made of my hands, my bib, and the highchair tray. There were bits of meat and red sauce splattered everywhere! From their giggles, I suspected my face looked even worse.

"Baby Jennie is such a messy eater," commented my superior little sister, her mildly condescending tone exactly mimicking our mother's. They both giggled disdainfully again as my cheeks blushed warmly with shame. While I continued shovelling food into my sauce-caked gob, I noticed with surprise that Angie's face and hands appeared unstained, although I wasn't sure if Mummy had cleaned her up while I wasn't looking. Even so, I felt even more humiliated and child-like as I gazed enviously at my giggling sister's immaculately clean clothes and shining pink cheeks. I found it hard to swallow the remaining morsels of my suddenly-tasteless meal.

"I think we'd better take you into the bathroom for a hot bath straight after dinner, my messy little girl," Mummy primly announced to me. She removed my empty plate and held the spout of my pink sippy-cup to my stained lips, tilting it up until I compliantly began to suck. Chastened by the way Aunty Cath had treated me at lunch, I didn't dare attempt to take the cup of warm milk from Mummy's hands. Not until she insisted in saccharine baby tones; "Hold your own cup for Mummy like a big girl, sweetie! Don't worry about those dirty paws of yours. Mummy will throw your favourite pink sippy-cup straight in the dishwasher after dinner, baby, so it will be ready for you tomorrow morning. Go on, little girl! Take your cup for Mummy. You can do it, Baby Jennie. Go on, hold it just like your big sister Angelica. That's it. Good baby! What a clever baby girl!" I tentatively took hold of my cup with my slippery sauce-stained fingers and blushed bright red at her mocking words of faux-praise - especially when I caught sight of my nodding sister and the encouraging smile plastered across her pretty little face.

When my sister had finished her sippy-cup of warm milk, Mummy released Angie from her booster seat, and sent her off to watch an episode of 'My Little Pony' while she took care of me. After savagely scrubbing my grubby face and filthy hands with a hot soapy washer, Mummy licked the teat of my pacifier and eased it between my pouting wet lips, pressing it in place until I submissively began sucking. She unclipped my filthy bibbie and cleaned the messy tray and removed it, and then released me from the highchair restraints and led me upstairs to the Nursery.

My mother barely said a word to me while she undressed me on the change table. She tossed my glistening yellow baby panties and the drenched diaper in the nappy bucket, and I kept sucking my dummy as I discretely watched her impassive face. After she lifted me down, she took my hand and led me waddling naked into the bathroom where the waiting tub was already half-filled with hot water. She spoke down to me exactly as though she was addressing a small child, clearly not expecting me to respond. "Oh look! Your lovely hot bath is all ready for you, Baby Jennie. Isn’t it? Let Mummy take your dum-dums for you, baby... Now in we hop, little one. That's right, good girl. Who's my clever baby girl? Hmm? And don't we love bath time? Yes we do!"

Mummy washed my hair with baby shampoo and she scrubbed every inch of me with a hot soapy washcloth till I was pink and shining clean all over. She chattered mindlessly to me all the while, like I was a retarded toddler incapable of responding. The steaming hot water seemed to drain all the energy out of me, and I lay on the change table limp as tonight's spaghetti while Mummy powdered and diapered me for the night. She licked and replaced my dripping pacifier teat between my tender puffy lips, and clipped the pink plastic chain to the collar of my white 'Barbie' onesie. Then she carried me downstairs to the living room and plonked me in front of the TV, announcing brightly; "It's your turn for the bath, Angelica!"

My sister ordered me not to change channels and bossily insisted I keep watching 'My Little Pony,' so I could tell her how this episode ended. Any thoughts I had of objecting evaporated when I caught sight of my mother's dire warning expression. Just as the silly cartoon show concluded, Mummy came to collect me for bed. While we were being tucked in for the night, I had to fill my sister in on the details of what had happened to the little pink pony who had been trapped by the cave-in. Angelica seemed genuinely relieved when I told her how the other ponies had rescued their pink friend. "Thank goodness," she muttered, when I assured her everything had turned out all right - which made me smile around my dummy teat.

Before Mummy raised my crib rail, she leaned close to my face and whispered, "You're a good little girl for watching that show for your sister, Baby Jennie. That was very thoughtful, darling." She gently kissed my cheek and I impulsively hugged her around her slender neck, her long honey-blonde hair falling across my cheek like a bolt of thick silk. I could smell a hint of roses from her lightly-perfumed hair conditioner.

I hesitantly spat out my dum-dums and muttered contritely, "I'm sorry I was such a bad boy - I mean, a bad girl today, Mummy. I'm really sorry, Mummy," I humbly apologized. She gently disentangled my arms from around her neck. She slowly drew back till her olive-green eyes met mine, her expression as unreadable as an Easter Island statue.
"I'm glad to hear that, sweetie. But you must try harder to be a good girl for Mummy. Good little girls don't rub the crotch of their panties against things, or play with themselves down there. Understand?"

Her searching eyes demanded a response, and a small smile tugged at her full pink lips when I blushed rosily and earnestly replied; "I understand, Mummy. I'll try, I promise. Tomorrow I'll try really hard to be a good little girl for you, Mummy."
"I know you will, baby. Now, is there anything else you want to tell me?"
"I love you, Mummy," I responded, smiling tearfully up at her beautiful serene face. I felt gratified when she smiled down forgivingly at me in return, and I could see the love shining in her olive-green eyes.

"I love you too, baby girl. Now off to sleep, my little Baby Jennie." She tenderly kissed my cheek again, and after licking the amber teat and inside the pink guard till they were glistening with her saliva, she slipped my dripping dummy back between my parted lips. She checked that the chain was still safely clipped to the collar of my stretchy white onesie. I automatically started sucking on the strangely-satisfying, slick rubber teat, while she raised the rattling side rail of my crib, carefully watching my face through the bars until the steel side bolts latched securely into place. "Goodnight, my gorgeous little girls," Mummy sang to us, as she switched off the overhead light.

After we chorused our replies, she closed the Nursery door until only a sliver of light from the hallway illuminated the room. Despite the fact that my nappy was soon wonderfully warm and wet around my genitals, I vowed to not touch myself down there tonight. I wanted to be a good girl - I mean, to be good for Mummy. Really I did. I contented myself with sucking on my pacifier and listening to the rhythm of the rain drumming on the roof tiles. Soon I drifted off to sleep lying on my back, safe, wet and warm in my crib.

I slept like a baby that night. I only woke when Mummy unlocked and lowered the noisy side rail of my cot to lift me out. My nappy was drenched as usual when she checked me, and I was thankful my normal morning erection had shrivelled into insignificance by the time she unclipped my onesie crotch and removed my damp plastic panties. Once again a small log of poop had managed to escape my relaxed anal sphincter during the night without disturbing my slumber. I didn’t know I’d soiled my nappy until Mummy removed the pink pins and lowered the heavy yellow front of my soggy terry nappy.

She examined the small firm turd stuck to the nappy liner and my brown-stained botty crease and grizzled wryly, "Tsk-tsk-tsk! Another dirty nappy this morning, Baby Jennie? I swear you're an absolute poo-poo factory, little girl!"
I tried to ignore my giggling little sister's taunts as she parroted, "Poo-poo factory! Poo-poo factory! Baby Jennie's a poo-poo factory!"

Mummy sailed on as if she hadn't heard Angie's mocking commentary. "At least you're not too messy this time. Just a wipe-down will do my stinky baby girl. I don't think we need to pop you in the bath for a full hose-down this morning." I was pleased that I wasn't going to suffer the torture of having my sensitive botty-hole and limp genitals scoured clean with the icy-cold needle spray again. I helpfully raised my knees and spread my thighs compliantly wide when Mummy ordered, so she could more easily clean every dirty nook and cranny with the soothing scented baby wipes. With a thick comfy nappy pinned securely around my powdered bottom and some fresh pearlescent-pink plastic panties tugged safely into place, Mummy clipped the crotch of my white 'Barbie' onesie back together before lifting me down to the floor.

In the kitchen, Mummy buckled me into my highchair and plucked out my dummy, placing it in a glass of water on the kitchen bench. She returned to clip a white terry bib around my neck, then slid the pink wooden tray over the chair arms towards my tummy until it locked securely in place. When my nappy grew wonderfully warm in front, my excitable peenie started to reflexively thicken, even though I didn't want it to. After it was fully hard and throbbing pleasurably, I considered pressing my sensitive little stiffie against the highchair tray's centre strut as usual. I decided to try and behave myself this morning. Angie was secured in her normal booster seat and Mummy placed large plastic bowls full of hot oatmeal in front of us. She handed Angie a spoon and after taking a mouthful from her own larger white ceramic bowl, Mummy approached me holding up a pink plastic spoon. She was busily feeding me between bites of her own meal when Daddy dashed into the kitchen looking haggard and tired.

Mummy barely glanced at him when he mumbled something about being late for work and not bothering with breakfast. He waved vaguely in our direction as Mummy abandoned her cereal, and she continued spoon-feeding me in tight-lipped silence. Daddy disappeared without even kissing us goodbye. Heavily-laden spoons full of hot oatmeal were stuffed between my lips much more forcefully and rapidly until the front door slammed, and the creamy porridge practically poured from my overloaded mouth. Thank goodness the pink floral Barbie bowl was empty by then, or Mummy might have drowned me in porridge! I'm pretty sure my mother was cranky, but not with me this time. When Mummy scrubbed my face clean afterwards she was unusually vigorous. When I timidly complained, she actually said she was sorry, and then gave my well-scoured pink cheek an apologetic kiss.

It was still raining cats and dogs outside, and I had nothing to look forward to except another boring day trapped inside the house playing dolls with my little sister. This morning it was my turn to choose our clothes for the day, and over my little sister's whining objections, I shyly asked Mummy if we could wear our matching lavender dresses.

As she unclipped my dummy and removed my onesie, Mummy gave me a doubtful look at first but then decided; "Since you girls certainly won't be playing outside today, you may wear your good lavender frocks - at least for the morning. But you'll have to wear your petties underneath too, to make the gathered skirts sit properly. Okay? And you'll need a pinnie apron over the top as well, for protection." I eagerly nodded agreement, in spite of her elaborate terms. I helpfully raised my hands high in the air so Mummy could easily lower the silky bodice of my snow-white tulle petticoat over my head and arms.

Before she slipped the heavily-flounced lavender frock over my head, Mummy insisted on one final condition. "You know I don't normally allow my girls to wear their Sunday-best dresses to play in, so I want both my precious babies to promise to behave like good little girls and do everything Mummy says today. Okay?"
She looked at us questioningly, and seemed pleased when we both chanted in unison; "Yes Mummy, we promise."

She slipped the pretty lavender frock over my head and settled the skirts out over the frothy tulle petties, then stepped behind me to fasten the buttons up to the collar and tie the dark purple sash in a big butterfly bow in the small of my back. She examined my face searchingly a second time as she clipped my dummy chain to the wide white Peter Pan collar of my dress. She licked the amber rubber teat to wet it for me, and pressed it between my waiting parted lips. I blushed warmly as I passively accepted my sloppy dum-dums and automatically started sucking. "I pwomithe to be a good wittle girl today, Mummy," I mumbled around the mouth-filling baby soother to settle her doubts. She smiled briefly and nodded understanding of our agreement, before I dropped my gaze to the floor in embarrassment.

I didn't even complain when Mummy sat me on Angie's bed to roll some frilly white anklet socks on my tiny feet, before buckling my shiny black patent Maryjanes in place. I was sure at least when I was standing still, my dress was long enough to conceal my thick nappies and tell-tale bulging plastic panties, even with the stiff petticoats holding out the hem. I crouched down and rearranged the elaborate white lace sock frills around my ankles so they sat more attractively, and then stepped over to assist Mummy.

She was dressing Angelica in front of the full-length mirror affixed to the back of the wardrobe door, and I smiled in satisfaction at my appearance in the mirror. My lavender frock was easily long enough to conceal any sign of my humiliating infantile underwear, even when I gently twirled my body from side to side. With the wide-flared petties bobbing underneath, no-one could tell how heavily my hips were padded. As I twirled I felt the familiar rising heat in my comfy thick nappy, and despite the huge pink pacifier clamped between my lips, I smiled happily at the soothing warmth slowly surrounding my genitals. I kept stealing glances at my acceptably-feminine reflection while I helped Mummy dress my pouting little sister in her short frothy white petticoat, and then her pretty matching lavender toddler frock.

Mummy led us downstairs to the kitchen and made us wait beside the bench while she searched in the bottom drawer for some suitable aprons. She produced two white pinafore-style cotton aprons. Each had a loop for around the neck, and a high bib front. The half-moon apron below was edged with pretty lace trim, and there were two long ribbon waist sashes that tied in the back. Mummy dressed Angie in her snow-white pinnie first, and I started to regret my dress choice when I saw how the lacy pinafore apron over her short lavender frock made my little sister look like the character Alice, from 'Alice in Wonderland.'

I submissively bowed my head so Mummy could loop a similar white pinafore around my neck too, and as she tied the waist sash in place behind me in an additional floppy feminine bow, she must have had the same thought. "You girls almost look like Alice in Wonderland," she observed with a delighted smile, before she turned me around and straightened the lace-edged apron of my pinnie and adjusted the high bib front. "Come with me back up to the Nursery, girls. I want to put Alice bands in your hair, too."

We followed Mummy upstairs and into the Nursery, and she sat Angie on the wooden chair in front of the mirrored dressing table first. She took out her pigtails and brushed out her long platinum-blonde locks, then Mummy sorted through a pretty painted box on the low table and gave a cry of delight. "Perfect! I thought I'd bought two of these!" She exclaimed triumphantly, holding up two slender plastic hair bands wrapped in purple satin ribbon. I watched Angie's face in the mirror as Mummy ordered her to tilt her head forward and then slowly back, and she carefully ran the ends of the hair band behind my sister's tiny pink ears and set it in place. When Angelica returned her gaze to the mirror, even she had to smile at lovely effect.

"Pretty as a picture!" Mummy declared with a pleased smile, before easing my little sister out of the chair and motioning me to take her place. She took up the brush again and removed the elastic bands from my pigtails, and proceeded to brush out my long blonde locks with slow, even strokes. As usual, whenever Mummy brushes my hair it gives me goosebumps, which instantly dotted my bare arms and legs like a thousand tiny pimples.

I closed my eyes and relaxed as I sucked loudly and contentedly on the fat nipple of my dummy. I must have sighed with pleasure because my observant little sister commented astutely, "Baby Jennie loves having her hair brushed, doesn't she, Mummy?"
"Yes honey, she does," Mummy agreed, smiling when she saw the pink pacifier guard bobbing up and down against my little nose in a regular rhythm. "All girls love having their hair brushed. It's one of the reasons that we grow it so long. That, and it looks so beautiful."
"I love having beautiful long hair," Angie replied with a happy sigh.

"Me too," I unthinkingly mumbled around my dum-dums. I opened my eyes and gazed dreamily at my pretty sister's contented smiling face in the mirror, completely missing my mother's knowing smile and silent nod of understanding. She finished styling my hair and slipped the purple Alice band in place, and I smiled at my delightful feminine appearance in the mirror, squealing, "Fank you, Mummy!" Mummy beamed down happily at me too, and then gave both of us an affectionate peck on the cheek.

"Mummy, it stinks of poo-poo in here," Angie complained, screwing up her pretty little face in disgust. "Can Baby Jennie change her baby's dirty nappy this morning, and put a fresh diaper on Justine?"
"You're right, it is pretty whiffy in here," Mummy agreed with a frown, stepping over to the window and opening it a few more inches, despite the howling wind and the driving rain outside. She turned her olive-green eyes on me in frank appraisal, and I looked up at her with naked hope shining in my big blue eyes.
"Please Mummy? Pretty please, with sugar on top?" Angie pleaded my case, and to my delight, Mummy actually relented.

"Alright, my pretty baby girls," Mummy brightly declared, "this morning I want both of you to be Mummy's little helpers. Leave your baby dolls here in the Nursery, because I want you to strip the sheets off Angie's bed and Baby Jennie's cot mattress, and don't forget the pillow slips. Take them all into the laundry and Baby Jennie, you can load them in the machine and turn it on. After you've finished folding up the clean dry clothes and the towels in the baskets, Baby Jennie can change her smelly baby. Okay, girls?" When we nodded obediently, Mummy clapped her hands before enthusiastically commanding, "Hop to it then, girls. Off you go!"

She stood watching us for few moments as we began to strip Angie's bed first, then gave us a pleased smile. "Good girls!" Mummy praised us, before disappearing to attend to her own household chores. After we had thrown the bed linen in the washing machine and turned it on, we had to take the clean clothes out of the drier and put them in the ironing basket. Then we had to fold up the clean dry towels and put them away in the linen closet.

Angie wasn't too good at the folding bit, and I had to help her a few times. I murmured gentle words of encouragement to her from around my dum-dums, and helpfully picked up the things she dropped. I held one end of the bigger towels to make it easier for her to fold them, totally unaware that Mummy had been observing us from the kitchen from time to time and listening attentively to our bright girlish chatter. She had been standing close enough that she must have heard our every word, and when we toddled out of the laundry, she was waiting in the kitchen with our sippy-cups full of watered-down apple juice.

After handing the purple sippy-cup to Angelica, she crouched down in front of me and plucked out my dummy, and then pressed the pink sipping spout to my lips. "What a good little girl you are for helping your sister like that, Baby Jennie. I love you when you're so kind and helpful, little one. You really can behave like a good little girl for Mummy, sometimes." I blushed pinkly at her softly spoken words of praise. I gratefully sucked from the sippy-cup because I felt like I was about to die of thirst. Only then did I notice my nappy was simultaneously warming around my sensitive genitals, momentarily distracting me. Cool liquid was flowing down my throat into my body, while at the same time hot liquid poured out of my body down below into my thick and thirsty nappy.

For some reason I felt completely infantile at that moment, and I relaxed completely, slumping with my arms dangling by my sides. I couldn't understand why my uncontrollable peenie started reflexively thickening as soon as the comforting warm flow trickled to a halt. The ringing of our front doorbell startled both of us, and Mummy took my hand and directed me to hold my sippy-cup.

"Hold your own cup for Mummy like a good little girl, sweetie," she encouraged me as though I really was an incompetent toddler. She stood erect. "Who could that be?" She wondered aloud, as she strode towards the hallway. Angie and I were curious to see who could be visiting on such a horrible wet Monday morning. As we finished our drinks, we both shyly peeked around the kitchen doorframe, down the hallway towards the front door. When she opened the door, Mummy was blown backwards by the violently gusting wind, which almost tore the doorhandle from her grasp.

Two squealing laughing girls came tumbling in holding shiny leather coats over their heads to protect them from the rain. My eyes widened in alarm when I realised my older cousins - Aunty Cath's daughters - were paying us a visit. April was nineteen, almost twenty, and had started University two years ago, but I forgot what she was studying. Something to do with science, I think. Her little sister Bonnie was just seventeen, and she had started a beautician's course at the Technical College at the beginning of this year.

The Jones girls were both tall like their mother, but April stood almost six feet in her stockings. Today she was wearing knee-length glossy black boots with menacing slender four-inch heels. She towered over my Mummy in her white medium-heeled court shoes. April wore a pleated red plaid miniskirt which emphasised the length of her long lean thighs, and when she hung her dripping, three-quarter length, black leather coat on the hat rack in the foyer, I could see the crisp white satin blouse that clung like a second skin to her shoulders.

April has glossy jet-black hair falling in silken waves almost to her shoulder blades, and when she turned around and peered down the dimly-lit hallway, her big brown eyes were framed by beautiful, long dark lashes that looked almost doll-like. Her lips were full and painted a deep dark red, making her look older and somehow more intimidating. In one hand she held up a dripping, long grey plastic bag on a hanger, and she shook it violently to remove some of the water droplets. It looked like one of those suit bags Daddy sometimes packed when he went away on his many business trips.

Mummy slammed the door against the howling wind, and turned to greet the visiting Amazons with a welcoming smile. She grabbed April's shoulders and stood on tippy-toe to buss her on the cheek, avoiding the beautiful girl's full red-painted lips while crying in delight; "April! Bonnie! Hello girls, how good to see you! Leave those wet things here and come inside."
"Hi Aunty Isabell, how are you?" April cheerily greeted our mother.
"I'm fine, darling, but what are you doing here?" Mummy kissed Bonnie loudly on the cheek too, but before April could reply, her pretty younger sister interrupted.

"Mum told us about what you'd done to Jeremy - I mean, to Baby Jennie..." Despite the length of the gloomy hallway, I could clearly see the grin etched on Bonnie's stunningly made-up face. Her bright eyes searched the house for me and I urgently backed out of sight. I felt my cheeks begin to flush warmly with anticipated embarrassment. Bonnie's eyes were huge and golden-brown and her eyelashes unbelievably long. Her fine dark-brown eyebrows had been heavily plucked to high arched lines, giving her a look of constant astonishment. Her full luscious lips were painted with glossy hot-pink lipstick and looked more swollen and puffy than usual. "Anyway, we thought we'd come over and offer to like... babysit our sweet little cousins. Mum said something about you having a, you know, a doctor's appointment this afternoon, or whatever?"

Bonnie was two inches shorter than her elder sister, but you wouldn't have known it today. Her long chestnut-brown hair had been teased up in a beehive four inches high and frozen in place with a gallon of hairspray; which explained the long white leather coat temporarily protecting her head. She discarded her full-length coat and carelessly hung it on a hook without shaking off the raindrops. Her white leather thigh-high boots had two-inch platform soles and scary six-inch narrow spiked heels. Under an indecently-short, blue denim miniskirt, Bonnie wore thick white tights with a solid diamond pattern running up the sides. She was wearing a tight white t-shirt which announced 'Chicks Rule' in bold hot-pink lettering splashed across her huge bouncing bosom, and she gripped the handle of what appeared to be a large pink plastic toolbox in one hand.

"I'm delighted you could come over, girls!” Mummy cried. “Yes, you have saved me the bother of finding a babysitter, so thank you. Did you want me to pay you?" Mummy asked, as she led the beautiful teenagers down the hallway towards the kitchen. I ducked back further and accidentally tripped over Angelica, who had been crowding me from behind. We both tumbled to the floor, but thankfully Angie wasn't harmed. I was bending right over helping my chortling little sister to her feet when the two brightly chattering teenagers came sashaying into the kitchen behind me, followed closely by Mummy.

"Oh my God!" Bonnie squealed when she caught sight of us. The first thing she did was flick up the back of my lavender dress and petties so she could examine my humiliating infantile underwear. "Look at that big nappy under those pretty pink plastic panties! And that fabulous frou-frou petticoat! I love it!" I released my tottering sister's tiny hands and reached behind me to pull the hem of my dress back down, ducking my big diapered bottom away from their unwanted scrutiny. My cheeks were crimson with shame as I twirled around to face them, scowling mightily - although I knew I didn't dare complain.

I had done the exact same thing to my gorgeous teen cousins many times in the past. I’d flipped up their skirts under the pretence of teasing, but really, all I wanted was to see which pretty panties my sexy older cousins were wearing under their provocatively short dresses. The temptation to flip up their daringly short dress hems and take a quick peek at the silky nylon knickers stretched tautly over their plump round bottom cheeks, had always proven overwhelming to a panty-lover like me. Now my immature actions were coming back to haunt me! "Look at her! That's just so cute! She looks like Alice in Wonderland! They both do!" gushed Bonnie, her huge golden eyes sparkling with mischief.

"She's gorgeous! They're both gorgeous," April heartily agreed, and when Angie screamed with pleasure and tossed herself at April's shiny black boots, the tall raven-haired beauty threw the damp grey suit-bag over the back of a kitchen chair and dropped to her knees. She swept my squealing baby sister into her arms with a shriek of joyful laughter. "C'mere, gorgeous!" April insisted, standing and cuddling Angie tightly while she smothered her tiny face with kisses. "I love their matching frocks, Aunty Isy. They look so cute together, don't they?" she complimented our mother, as she wiped traces of her dark red lipstick from my giggling sister's stained cheeks.

"Thank you, Bonnie and April," Mummy politely replied. She picked up our empty sippy-cups from where they’d fallen to the floor and discarded them in the sink. "My Baby Jennie must have had an inkling you girls were coming over to visit today, because she chose her best frock and petticoats to wear this morning."
"Baby Jennie chose to wear that dress?" Bonnie questioned in frank disbelief, and April looked similarly agog.
"Yes, the girls take turns selecting their matching outfits for the day, and this morning it was Baby Jennie's turn to choose. She wanted to be a good little girl for Mummy today and wear her pretty lavender frock with her frothy petties underneath."
"Well I think both your little girls look beautiful," April commented decisively, bouncing Angie in her arms. My sister squealed in glee and burst into another fit of giggles.

"Not as beautiful as they're going to look by the time I'm finished with them," Bonnie grandly announced, before turning to my mother and holding up her big pink plastic toolbox in indication. "If that's okay with you, Aunty Isy?" she asked with a cheeky grin.
"If what's okay with me, darling?" Mummy questioned in some confusion, her bright smile faltering momentarily.

Bonnie explained, "You know I'm studying to be a beautician? When mum told us what you had done to Jer- Baby Jennie, I thought like, you know... We thought maybe we could come over and play 'Beauty Salon' with your ‘daughters.’ Everyone knows little girls love playing dress-ups with make-up and stuff. You know you don't have to like, pay us to babysit, Aunty Isy," she hastened to reassure our Mummy, before turning her disdainful golden eyes on my cringing form. "After some of the things your horrid little son has done to us over the last couple of years, babysitting today is going to be like, an absolute pleasure," Bonnie finished, with a wolfish smile frighteningly reminiscent of her mother's.

April stood there with Angie cuddled in her arms, and both teenagers were smiling playfully down at me. I looked pleadingly to Mummy but saw no sign of sympathy in her calculating olive-green eyes. After a few moment's reflection she replied, "Alright girls, go ahead. Work your magic on my little girls, Bonnie. Let's see how beautiful you can make them." She smiled broadly at the thought of her pushy niece giving me a make-over.
"Don't you worry, Aunty Isy," Bonnie assured Mummy with a triumphant grin. "By the time I'm finished with him - I mean, the girls, you'll hardly recognise your own daughters."

Mummy picked up the grey suit-bag from the chair and asked, "What's in here, April?"
"Remember the yellow satin party frock with all the trimmings that Mum gave you for Angelica, a few months back?" When Mummy nodded, April continued. "Well, that dress was one of Bonnie's from when she was around three. I had a matching yellow party frock which I wore when I was about five or six years old. We intended saving it for Angie until she was a bit older, but now we've learned that little Baby Jennie here loves to wear pretty outfits that match her baby sister's-"
"We thought we'd bring it over and try it on her," Bonnie rudely finished for her big sister in a rush. She partly unzipped the bag to display a hint of the buttercup-yellow satin frock inside. "It should fit her alright. April was pretty fat when she was six, although probably not as tall as Baby Jennie is now." She ignored her svelte sister's quick frown of annoyance and blithely sailed on. "Oh, and we also brought Baby Jennie a petticoat, and some plastic-lined, yellow satin rumba panties to wear under it, that she can keep, too. We weren't sure if your special new baby girl owned any petties or frilly wetproof panties."
"Baby Jennie only has one petticoat," Mummy informed her with a pleased smile, "so I'm sure she'd love another frou-frou pettie to wear under her beautiful new dress. And I haven't bought or made any satin rumba panties for her yet, so those will come in handy, too. Thanks, girls."

April lowered my sister to the ground. While still holding Angie’s hand, she gathered the flared hem of my dress and petties in front with the other. "Bonnie, would you look at the darling tulle petticoat our cousin Jennie is wearing this morning? It certainly suits our dear baby girl cousin." I stood there like an impotent child as April held up the front my lavender frock and my lace-edged petties under my bowed chin. She exposed my flounced white underskirts and my bulging transparent pink baby panties to her little sister amidst a flurry of girlish giggles. I knew I looked the picture of shy femininity as I meekly cowered before them, my cheeks rosy with embarrassment.

"I know! I love it! It's such a darling, sweet sissy petticoat! Your tulle petticoat is so pretty, isn't it, Baby Jennie?" Bonnie obligingly chimed in, playfully looking to me for a reply. I glanced at my mother's warning expression and gulped, knowing I was trapped. All I could manage was to nod hesitantly in response, my throat closing up in shame.

Mummy frowned forbiddingly and cautioned me, "Now, now, Baby Jennie! That's not a proper answer, is it, little girl? Remember your promise to Mummy, sweetheart? Good little girls love their pretty clothes and love feeling special in them. You do love your pretty petticoat, don't you sweetie?" After a few moments' silence, Bonnie prodded the exposed crotch of my pearlescent pink plastic panties, poking the obviously wet nappy beneath to encourage me to reply.

I wanted to die of shame but managed to squeak out, "I- uh... Um, yes, Bonnie. I like my t-t-tulle petticoat. It's very... uh, pretty."
"Since you're still just a toddler in nappies, I think you should address your older and more mature cousins as Aunty April and Aunty Bonnie from now on, sweetheart. It shows them the respect that they properly deserve from small children like you," Mummy frostily declared.
My cheeks began to burn with fresh mortification as I meekly repeated in a high-pitched embarrassed squeak, "My tulle petticoat is very pretty, Aunty Bonnie."
My cruel cousins giggled at my blushing cowed response, watching my humiliated downcast expression with astonished grins. They turned to gaze at our Mummy in awe.

"How, Aunty Isy? How did you do this?" April demanded in amazed delight.
She and Bonnie laughed aloud when Mummy simply replied, "I told you! Baby Jennie decided she wanted to behave like a good little girl today. She really loves wearing pretty dresses and frilly feminine things, and dressing up just like her sister Angelica. Jeremy grew tired of acting like a horrible, dirty, pants-wetting boy, and she prefers to dress and behave like a pretty baby girl these days. Don't you, Baby Jennie?"
April and Bonnie sniggered as my face glowed crimson with humiliation before I reluctantly acknowledged my agreed subjugation. "Yes Mummy," I obediently whispered in reply.

"Oh I'm going to love this!" Bonnie giggled, poking my wet diapered crotch repeatedly for emphasis, until April thankfully let my dress hem and petties drop. "You've been teasing us for years about our girl things; our 'sissy-girl' things. And now you look so frilly and sweet in your sissy girl things!" I was terrified by the thought of these two sadistic teens exacting their humiliating revenge on me. My cheeks blazed like fire and I wanted to shrivel up and die of embarrassment when Bonnie scathingly continued, "And to think we were saving most our little-girl things for Angelica. Yet here we find we have another little niece who loves to dress in frills and lace. Isn't that wonderful?"

April smiled and shook her head in bemusement. "Gosh, Aunty Isy! It only seems a few short years ago when Jeremy was a baby in nappies. We used to dress him up in our old toddler frocks all the time whenever you brought him over to visit," she fondly recalled.
"It was only a few short years ago," Mummy curtly reminded her. "Remember, Jeremy still wore nappies until he was five or six. Your old baby dresses and toddler frocks fitted him perfectly then." She turned to glare at me. "It seems that nothing has really changed, has it, Baby Jennie?""

I was grateful Mummy didn't seem to expect me to respond, instead picking up my dummy from where it bounced lightly against my breast and tucking it inside the lacy bib of my pinnie apron. For a moment I thought she was being kind and trying to help me conceal the shameful pink pacifier from my jeering cousins. But after she untied and removed my white cotton pinafore, Mummy licked the teat and the inside of the pink guard and then slipped the dripping-wet rubber nipple between my lips to silence any potential protests I might be considering. When I instinctively began loudly sucking on the oversized mouth-filling baby soother, the tall teenagers burst into fresh peals of laughter. I felt the hot flush creep up the back of my neck until even my ears glowed bright red.

"Come on little girls, let's take you into the bathroom and do your hair first," Bonnie urged us, waving her spare hand imperiously towards the hallway.
"You'd better let me remove their good frocks and petties before you start anything," Mummy cautioned our grinning cousin as she untied and removed Angie's pinnie. Bonnie nodded agreement and Mummy continued, "Bring the girls upstairs to the Nursery and we can hang up their Sunday-best dresses and petties first."
"Good idea," conceded Bonnie, who propelled me waddling ahead of her towards the stairs. April carried Angelica in the rear.

"Gosh! It's a bit stinky in here, Aunty Isy," observed Bonnie. She wrinkled her cute powdered nose in disgust and waved her hand in front of her face when she walked into the Nursery behind me. "Did Baby Jennie just go poo-poos in her nappy?"
"No, I don’t think it’s Baby Jennie’s nappy. That's her baby doll Justine you can smell, girls. She has a dirty nappy. But I told Baby Jennie I'd let her put a clean diaper on her baby - if she behaved like a good little girl for her Mummy today," Mummy informed them. She untied my sash and started unbuttoning the back of my flounced lavender frock.

"And has Baby Jennie been behaving like a good little girl?" April duly inquired, while she copied Mummy's actions and began undressing Angelica.
"As a matter of fact, she has," confirmed Mummy, with a tight smile that seemed more of a grimace. "She's been a very good little girl for Mummy today - so far. Now if she can just manage to behave herself for the rest of the day..." Mummy unclipped my dummy chain and removed my pretty lavender frock. She slid the stiff white petticoat over my head and raised arms before handing the feminine articles of clothing to Bonnie to hang up in the Nursery walk-in wardrobe.

As soon as Mummy undressed me, she instinctively checked my sagging nappy. I cringed in embarrassment when she bluntly demanded, "Wet again so soon, Baby Jennie? Why, your nappy is saturated, little girl!" My face burned with shame when she pressed her cupped palm over the front of my pearlescent pink plastic panties and held it there as if assessing the warm wet fullness. I knew she was actually checking to see if I had an erection inside my soggy nappy. Thankfully, all was quiet down below.

April finished undressing Angie and both teenagers watched with interest as Mummy lifted me onto the change table first. She removed my black patent Maryjanes and frilly socks and then swiftly pulled down my transparent pink baby panties.
"She certainly is a wet little girl," commented Bonnie dryly. Mummy removed the four huge pink pins and lowered the saturated front of my thirsty cloth nappies.

"Yes, my Baby Jennie is a very heavy wetter. You girls will need to check her nappies regularly while you are babysitting my little ones," Mummy cautioned them. She waved the bemused teens closer to observe her diaper-changing technique more closely. "Make sure you wipe every trace of old powder away with baby wipes first," she instructed them, suiting actions to words. When Mummy finished gently scrubbing my shame-shrivelled genitals, she grabbed my ankles together in one hand and hoisted them into the air, folding my knees back towards my bare chest. "Make sure you wipe her bot-bot thoroughly too, especially around her little rosebud. If you leave any trace of poo-poo back there, she could end up with a nasty case of nappy rash," Mummy advised the gorgeous grinning teenagers. They watched my humiliating infantile treatment with increasing mirth.

The girls leaned against the side of the change table smiling broadly and closely observing my reactions as Mummy commanded me to relax open my botty cheeks in sing-song toddler tones. She swiped my sensitive little brown freckle again and again with the cool moist baby wipe, until she was sure I was clean as a whistle back there. She even poked a wipe-covered finger right inside my wrinkled poo-poo hole, making me squeal piteously and wriggle in her grasp. Mummy ignored my grizzled protests and slid her intrusive finger in and out of my bottom several times, making sure my puckered brown opening was thoroughly clean.

I don't know why, but my little peenie started to thicken in reaction as her stiffened wipe-covered digit repeatedly violated my sensitive rosebud. While still holding my feet in the air, Mummy tossed the brown-stained wipes in the white bin beside the change table, then she reached for the white plastic bottle of baby powder. She heavily powdered my bottom and caressed the talc deeply into my open bumcrack, then let my legs gently drop. Her smile froze when she spied my excitable little peenie creeping up my baby-smooth tummy towards my belly button. She frowned as she sprinkled the sweetly-perfumed powder all over my front.

Mummy watched my blushing face carefully as she smoothed the powder around my tiny wrinkled sack. Despite me desperately willing it to go down, my little tool jerked and twitched spasmodically when she brushed it aside to caress the talc across my tummy with her soft warm palm. There was perfumed white powder covering everywhere down there, except my thickening shaft. But then she took hold of my swelling peenie in her warm fist and gave it a few quick strokes to coat it with powder, too. I anxiously sucked on my dum-dums when I realised I was becoming uncontrollably aroused by Mummy's soft white hand.

I vainly hoped my burgeoning erection would pass unnoticed by the watching women - to no avail. "Oh look!" cried April. "I think our little girl likes having her nappies changed!" She laughed scornfully.
"She sure does!" Bonnie chortled in bemused agreement.
Mummy's olive-green eyes turned serious and her face clouded over with annoyance. "Keep an eye on Baby Jennie for me," she commanded the snickering teenagers in a much cooler tone. "I'll be back in a moment. Come with me, Angie. You can watch TV downstairs in the sunroom for a few minutes." She took my sister's tiny hand and led her out of the Nursery.

April nodded in understanding and let one soft hand rest gently on my bare chest, while Bonnie took Mummy's place at the foot of the change table. "Don't worry, Aunty Isy. This little girl isn't going anywhere," my heavily-made up cousin confidently assured Mummy and Angelica's receding backs, as she firmly gripped both my slender ankles in her meaty fists. I started whimpering in fright around my dummy because I suspected what was about to occur. The teenagers crooned reassuringly to me in syrupy toddler tones, fruitlessly trying to convince me that everything was going to be all right.

April diffidently sprinkled a little more talc on my front and began to soothingly stroke it into my chest and trembling tummy. Her gentle palm seemed to slide closer and closer to my rising manhood, even as the hot swollen head crept up my powdery stomach towards her playful fingers. When she accidentally brushed the sensitive underside of the head with her warm hand, I felt a rapid rush of blood to that area that made me catch my breath. Suddenly my peenie was fully engorged and bobbing above my shivering tummy as though begging for their attention. I was terrified yet my throbbing stiffie was so hard and swollen, it felt like it might explode!

Mummy strode into the Nursery and my eyes instantly darted to her hands in fear, trying to see if she carried the instrument of my torture. My cousin's lush body blocked my view but I knew what was about to happen when Mummy commanded with a snarl; "Hold Baby Jennie's ankles tightly, Bonnie. April, grab her upper arms so she can't thrash about too much."
"No Mummy, no!" I uselessly pleaded from around my pacifier. "I'm twying to be a good girl- Aieeee!" The fat dummy blasted from my mouth when I screamed in anguish. Mummy viciously cupped the ice-covered spoon over my delicate sack. "No Mummy! No! Please no, no!" I sobbed. She moved the freezing steel over my shrinking stiffie, holding it there until I shrieked in fresh agony and wilted like a snowman in the hot summer sun.

I squealed piteously and cried like a baby until Mummy loudly ordered, "Shove that pacifier back in baby's mouth, will you April?" My tall, dark-haired cousin willingly pressed the mouth-filling dummy between my spittle-wet lips, and then cupped her soft powder-scented palm over my mouth and across my chin so I couldn't spit it out. With no choice, I sucked on the comforting rubber teat, sobbing bitterly at my undeserved punishment as I lay there inhaling the strong baby powder scent lingering on my cousin's fingers.

"Aww, poor Baby Jennie! My poor little girl! Suck that dum-dums for Aunty. Suck it nice and hard. There, there, sweetie," April crooned in a sympathetic maternal voice, even as a huge grin almost split her rosy cheeks in two. They held me in place for a few minutes until my sobbing slowed, and then Mummy proceeded to arrange two clean nappies between my widespread thighs.

"Lift her ankles right up high," Mummy crisply ordered Bonnie. When my quivering bum was hauled up off the pink padded table, she slid the thick cloth nappies and liners underneath me. As Bonnie lowered my feet Mummy raised the front flap, and showed the girls how to press the crotch edges right up into the crease between my splayed thighs and my shrivelled ball sack. She snugly encased my frozen withered genitalia in soft comforting padding as she pinned the side flaps tightly in place over my hips. "Baby Jennie is such a heavy wetter, she needs two pins either side to keep her nappies from falling down when they are saturated," Mummy explained in humiliating detail. I brushed the remaining tears from my eyes and glared up impotently at her. A pair of transparent yellow plastic panties with babyish cartoon Nursery-rhyme characters all over them followed.

Mummy noisily shook out the big baby panties to display them to the fascinated girls, and when they saw the tell-tale orange stains around the leg-holes near the crotch, both girls exclaimed in consternation. "Look! Poo-poo stains!" April pointed to the pale orange marks and demanded incredulously, "Does Baby Jennie poop in her nappies too, Aunty Isy?"
"Of course she does, April! She's just a baby - and babies do everything in their nappies," Mummy replied with a scornful glance at me.
"Ew, yuck-spuck!" Bonnie commented in a tone brimming with revulsion, her plump top lip curling in a disdainful sneer.

Mummy laughed gaily at my cousin's horrified reaction and then sweetly ordered, "Lift your footsies and point you toesies like a pretty ballerina, Baby Jennie." The beautiful teenagers giggled merrily as I obeyed Mummy's humiliating instructions with alacrity. I felt my throat con mestrict with shame as she threaded the crackling plastic panties over my compliantly pointed feet, and tugged them up my raised legs to my thighs. "Footsies down and lift your little botty for Mummy, baby girl," Mummy crooned in her sickly-sweet baby voice, before she tugged the snug yellow plastic panties over my heavily diapered loins. "And down. Good baby!"

She carefully tucked in the orange-stained leg bands around my groin to prevent any leaks, then told April to release my shoulders and sit me up. As soon as I was helped into the required position, Mummy started feeding my limp hands through the sleeves of a tight white onesie. She stretched the head hole wide so it would easily pass over my pink dummy ring, and then tugged it down over my shivering torso. April obligingly lifted me down, and when I wobbled alarmingly on unsteady legs, the raven-haired beauty grabbed my shoulders to support me.

To be continued in chapter 8.

Please note; this fantasy story is set in the last century - pre-internet - and the acceptable rules for disciplining minors were completely different back then. It would be like someone trying to tell Charles Dickens that children couldn't be sold into child labour - something that was perfectly acceptable in 19th century England.
Baby Jennie

Chapter 8. Synopsis. Jeremy's cousins April and Bonnie come over to babysit, with the intention of prettifying their sissy baby cousin.

Chapter 8. Beauty through Suffering

"Let me, Aunty Isy," Bonnie helpfully insisted, kneeling before my mother could and making her gleaming thigh-high boots squeak and crackle distractingly. She firmly tugged the front flap and the rear of my white onesie down over my bulky nappy, and collected the dangling bits between my compliantly spread thighs. The heavily made-up teenager watched my tear-filled eyes closely as she pressed the gathered ends together hard against the crackling plastic panty crotch encasing my soft fluffy nappy, and then she snapped closed the five chromed fasteners with a nasty little smirk. When she finished, she smoothed the short-sleeved onesie out over my shoulders and admired the bunnies gambolling across my breast, while April helpfully stretched the bottom out over my huge padded bum.

"Look at those cute pink bunnies on Baby Jennie's onesie," Bonnie gushed, and as she stood she clapped her hands in delight. "We're going to have such fun with your little baby girl today, Aunty Isy."
"Just don't forget that I have two little girls that need looking after," Mummy reminded them with a concerned frown.

"Don't worry; we'll look after both of them," April hastened to reassure our mother, unsuccessfully trying to wipe the smirk from her face. "In fact, now that our little Baby Jennie has calmed down, why don't I fetch Angelica. I can show you how good I am at changing a toddler's nappies?"
"Certainly, April," Mummy replied, "although Angie usually only wears disposable diapers during the day, so she’s much easier to look after."

After April had competently changed Angie's wet diaper with everybody watching, my little sister was dressed in her stretchy white onesie too, so we looked like twins again. April lifted my sister off the change table and Angie threw her arms around our cousin's neck before she could set her on her bare feet. "Carry me please, Aunty April?" begged Angie, and giggled happily when the dark-haired beauty laughingly agreed. Bonnie took a box of heated curling rollers out of the big pink toolbox, and then followed us into the Nursery en-suite bathroom and plugged them in.

Mummy removed our Alice bands and made Angie and me kneel on the tiled floor with our heads dangling over the side of the bathtub, and then doused our hair with warm water sprayed from the hand-held shower head. Instinctively my lazy bladder started voiding, the wonderful heat splashing around my frozen genitals and caressing me with soothing warmth. When both our scalps were saturated, Mummy and Bonnie roughly towelled us dry until our hair was only damp. After slipping on some fine latex gloves, our bossy cousin massaged some smelly liquid through our dangling wet locks. She used a black wide-tooth comb to spread the solution evenly through our hair, and when she was satisfied, she made us sit beside each other on the vanity stool facing the mirror. Bonnie's puffy pink lips widened in a cruel smile when she asked the watching women to help start rolling the smaller heated curlers in our treated hair.

I didn't like it when the hot curlers were rolled tightly against my scalp, and whimpered quietly around my dummy in protest. Angelica likewise started to complain that the rollers were too hot, but Bonnie shushed her piping objections by primly stating, "Girls have to suffer to be beautiful, Angelica. Beauty through suffering, girls; beauty through suffering," she chanted like a mantra. I saw Mummy and April nodding seriously in agreement in the vanity mirror. I sucked harder on my dum-dums for comfort, and tried to ignore the busily working women as they rammed curved wire clips around the wound hot curlers to hold them in place.

Bonnie shoved in some of the steel hair clips so viciously, the pointed ends almost pierced my scalp. When I yelped around my dum-dums in pain, she merely gave me a shark-like smile and continued with her task, completely unperturbed by my suffering. After they had used all the curlers in the steaming grey box, Bonnie unplugged the unit and asked Mummy for two scarves to wrap around our heads. "These curlers need to stay in place for about an hour or so," Bonnie informed everyone, as she and Mummy covered our odd-looking hairstyles with some tightly-tied bright silk scarves.

Angelica started to complain that she didn't like it, plucking at her tightly-rolled hair and whining irritably in her high-pitched voice. After a glance at Bonnie, Mummy took my little sister by the hand and suggested, "Why don't we see if there's some cake in the kitchen pantry I can cut up for morning tea, Angie?" Easily distracted by the promise of cake, Angie eagerly followed Mummy out of the bathroom.

Bonnie urged me to turn around on the stool in front of the mirror so I was facing her. She lifted my chin with her left hand and tilted my head back, commanding; "Hold it right there, little one, and don't move." She rested the edge of her right hand against my temple, and I could see she was holding a pair of shiny steel tweezers in her poised fingers.

"Ow!" I shrieked around my dum-dums as she ripped out a bunch of hairs from my left eyebrow. I felt another unexpected hot spurt in my damp nappy and simply relaxed and let my wee-wees freely flow. She frowned at the clump of mousy-brown hair sticking to the end of her tweezers, flicked it off with one hot-pink fingernail, and then attacked my eyebrow again. I tried to concentrate on the wonderful comforting warmth rising around my genitals, but the pain in my brow was too great. "Ow! Ow! Ow!" I winced and squealed louder with each successive pluck, until my cousin growled in irritation.

"Oh do shut up, you great big sissy baby!" Bonnie sneered in disgust. "Suck your dummy like a good baby girl, and stop complaining. Or would you like me to tell your mother about the time I caught you trying on my cheerleader panties?" I gasped in shock and then clamped my lips around the fat latex teat to stop it from tumbling out, terrified by her threat to reveal my shameful secret.

"I thought you'd already told Aunty Isy about her twisted little Jeremy dressing up in your frilly satin knickers?" April questioned, indicating she too, knew about my perverted private pastime.
"No, I haven't told his Mummy. Not yet," was Bonnie's cool calculated reply. She let the unspoken threat hang heavily in the air. My eyes widened in horror and darted from face to beautiful face. The two gorgeous girls merely smiled down at me in victory when my only response was to loudly suck on my dum-dums, the pink plastic guard bobbing in agitation against my tiny button nose.

"At least her complexion is flawless," Bonnie commented with more than a hint of jealousy. "Obviously the hormone rush of puberty is still like, a long way off for this little girl. She won't need any cover-stick or foundation, you know?" She ruthlessly plucked my first eyebrow almost to death, causing tears of agony to form in my eyes. I blinked them away, unwilling to surrender emotionally to them again, but I groaned audibly around my pacifier when she turned her attention on my other eyebrow.

She continued her savage assault on my hairy brows for another ten minutes until we heard Mummy call from downstairs. "Bonnie? April? I've made you a cup of tea, girls!"
"We'll be there in a minute!" Bonnie yelled in reply. She then returned to the first eyebrow to tidy it up a bit. She painfully plucked out a few individual hairs for another minute, examined both sides to ensure they were even, and then sighed happily in satisfaction.

"There! That's much better," she muttered quietly, nodding in approval. She gripped my chin again and forcibly turned my face towards her big sister, who also smiled and nodded enthusiastically. "You wait here, Baby Jennie," Bonnie firmly instructed me, as she and her sister prepared to leave. "We don't want to spoil the surprise, do we?"
I nodded uncertainly, but before April walked out, she promised; "We'll bring you something to drink and some cake, baby girl. Okay?"

I examined my altered appearance in the mirror after they departed. I was stunned to see that my formerly bushy, light-brown brown eyebrows, had been reduced to two high delicate arched lines, giving me the same innocent wide-eyed look as my heavily made-up auburn-haired cousin. The skin below my plucked brows was a little red and irritated. For a few minutes I gently rubbed them to lessen the residual stinging, completely ignorant of the fact that it would take weeks for the hairs to grow back. I glanced around when Bonnie noisily strode into the bathroom on her towering white high heels, carrying one of my pink bibs in one hand and a large piece of sticky chocolate cake on a paper serviette in the other.

A huge grin almost split her painted cheeks as she carefully placed the cake on the vanity. As she clipped the pink terry bib around my neck, she sweetly inquired; "Would you like some cake, Baby Jennie?"
I nodded cautiously and replied, "Yeth pleathe, Aunty Bonnie." She giggled at the lisp the dummy caused me to adopt, then tugged on the dangling pink chain until the fat pacifier teat popped from my mouth. She unclipped the dummy chain from my onesie and rearranged the big pink bib around my neck, and spread it neatly over my breast.

"Of course you do, sweetie! All little girls love chocolate cake," she stated reasonably. As she picked up the cake and the serviette together, April stalked into the bathroom carrying my filled pink sippy-cup. I knew something was amiss when I caught sight of the Cheshire Cat grin splitting April's beautiful face, and barely heard Bonnie's next muttered question. "Baby Jennie, do you remember when you deliberately dumped that piece of cake in my lap at my birthday party last October, all over my new blue satin dress?"

She carried the cake on the serviette on one flat palm like a drink on a tray, and then reached behind my scarf-wrapped head with her other hand as she spitefully murmured, "I remember." I felt Bonnie grab hold of the rollers wound tightly in my crown, and I gasped in pain as she used them to fiercely tilt my head back. "Open wide, Baby Jennie," Bonnie commanded ruthlessly. I involuntarily obeyed, squealing piteously as she tried to cram the whole piece of cake into my gaping mouth all at once. Most of the cake went in, but a large portion was viciously smeared all over my face and up my nose. I was attempting to scream and swallow at the same time, desperately trying to force cake down my gullet so I could snatch a breath. My ears were filled with my cousins' jeering laughter, the hateful sound echoing loudly in the small tiled room.

"What are you girls laughing about?" I heard Mummy demand as though from a distance. Just when I thought I was about to be rescued, I heard April call out in response.
"You promised not to look until after we're finished, Aunty Isy!" April insisted, her voice bubbling with cruel laughter. My hopes for relief were dashed when I heard my mother chuckle and agree.

I knew Mummy was right outside the bathroom door when she added, "Don't worry. I won't come in. I just wanted to tell you I've prepared lunch for all you girls. Everything is on the covered tray in the fridge, okay?" I clearly heard the jingle of Mummy's car keys and knew she was abandoning me to the care of these horrible vixens. I wanted to scream out and beg her not to leave me, but Bonnie kept the chocolate-coated serviette crammed over my mouth so I couldn't utter a sound.

"Don't worry, Aunty Isy," April loudly reassured my mother. "We know exactly what to do. You go and talk to the doctor, and see what he has to say. The girls will be fine," she concluded convincingly.
"Okay then." I thought I detected a hint of reluctance in Mummy's voice, but was in no position to plead my case. "Hopefully I should be back before they need to be put down for their afternoon naps. Alright? Goodbye, my babies. Be good little girls for Mummy, and do whatever Aunty April and Aunty Bonnie tell you to do."

Bonnie kept both hands clamped around my head and despite my mouth being empty, I couldn't draw a breath. I clawed desperately at the hand covering my nose and mouth, and April strode out to escort Mummy and Angelica to the front door. As soon as their voices faded downstairs into the distance, Bonnie relaxed her terrible grip. I gasped in a deep lungful of air, and then burst into tears of shame and humiliation. My loud echoing sobs quickly drew my little sister, who toddled into the brightly-lit bathroom and stared at me with goggle eyes. April followed close behind her, and when the tall black-haired beauty caught sight of the tears running down my filthy cake-smeared face, she collapsed in a fresh fit of giggles.

Bonnie dumped the slimy serviette in the garbage pail under the vanity and washed the mashed cake from her hand, and they both laughed maniacally when Angelica observed in that familiar condescending tone; "Baby Jennie is such a messy eater."
"Yes she is, isn't she," agreed Bonnie, gasping for breath amidst her peals of laughter. "Here baby, drink up," she ordered me, still chortling. "You won't be able to drink anything for a while, so drink this while you can." She pressed the spout of my sippy-cup to my messy brown lips and held it there until I had drained it completely, then discarded the empty pink cup on the vanity bench. Meanwhile April opened a tiny bottle of clear liquid and unseen by me, used the little brush attached to the lid to smear sticky fluid all over the inside of the plastic guard of my pink baby soother. She painted some around the narrow neck of the amber teat too, before replacing my dum-dums carefully on the bench and putting the capped vial away.

My superior little sister stepped closer to me and reached for my stained bib, carefully sweeping the larger crumbs into one hand before tossing the remnants in the bin. She ignored the tears of humiliation tracking down my filthy cheeks and held the grubby bib to my face while commenting disdainfully, "Yuck-spuck! It's even gone up her nose! Blow, Baby Jennie." Unthinkingly I obeyed my bossy little sister and blew my nose into the bib she pressed to my face, causing the watching teens to shriek with laughter again. I knew my cheeks were ablaze with embarrassment but I needed to blow the snotty cake out of my clogged nostrils. What choice did I have? Angelica then unclipped my dirty bib and inexpertly wiped my cake-smeared face with the filthy snot-covered cloth afterwards, making me cringe and whimper in both disgust and shame. When Bonnie had dried her hands, she approached me holding a steaming damp washcloth, her golden eyes glowing with amusement.

"Let me help, Angelica?" Bonnie politely requested, and my smiling little sister readily stepped aside. The washcloth was so hot it burned my skin. When I tried to wrench my head away I found Bonnie's other hand gripping the curlers at the back of my head again. Any inadvertent movement threatened to tear out my tightly-twined hair by the roots, so I gave up struggling and sat still. I let her scrub my filthy face and scour my lips clean while I complained like a sulky whining toddler. When Bonnie was satisfied, she pressed my dummy between my pouting tender lips to silence my objections and as I sucked the amber rubber teat deep into my mouth, I wondered at the weird taste and the strong scent of cloves that suddenly filled my nostrils.

"Angelica, why don't you come with me and we can watch television while your hair dries?" April brightly suggested. My scarf-clad sister happily agreed and raced out of the bathroom ahead of our taller cousin, leaving Bonnie to deal with my badly soiled bib. My lips started to tingle oddly and I sat there sucking my strangely aromatic dummy with my head bowed, ignoring my smirking self-satisfied cousin as she prepared her tools for the next round of my ongoing humiliation.

I thought Bonnie was being kind when she gently wiped my tears away with a tissue, but then she snapped testily, "Stop sooking! Stop that silly crying and suck your dum-dums, Baby Jennie. Suck harder! I want to hear you sucking, little girl! You're such a sissy cry-baby! Try and behave like a big girl for once in your life." Her callous words stung my battered pride and I sucked louder and harder on my weird-tasting dummy. I sniffed back the tears, slowly bringing my wayward emotions under control. "That's better." Bonnie smiled thinly, placing a flat white tray on the vanity bench behind me, before gripping my chin and cruelly tilting my head back. "Good girl. Keep your head completely still, alright? Now I need you to close your eyelids half-way for Aunt Bonnie, look at the tip of my nose, and don't blink. Understand?"

I nodded but when she continued to glare at me and waited expectantly, I remembered to shyly respond, "Yeth Aunty Bonnie," bringing a fresh sneer to her glossy pink-painted lips. She reached behind me and fussed with the things on the tray for a minute, but then I saw the shiny tweezers poised between her fingers and thumb again. I instinctively pulled back, cringing at the threat of more pain.

"Don't worry, little girl." She smirked at my cowardly reaction, using my dangling pink dummy chain to draw me closer. "I'm not plucking hairs out this time. I'm gluing some on." Mystified, I sucked harder on my smelly dum-dums and bit the soft rubber teat with my teeth to prevent it from popping out. I tried to see what she had clasped in the ends of the tweezers, but Bonnie snapped angrily; "Watch my nose, Baby Jennie! Eyelids half-closed! Do it!" I obediently stared at her petite powdered nose through half-closed lids, and it felt like she was gently tugging on my upper eyelashes. "Good, good," she muttered mostly to herself, and I felt rather than saw her reach behind me again. She repeated the strange process on my eyelashes about a dozen times, then drew back and inspected me critically.

"Open your eyes wide," she commanded. "Now blink a few times." It felt like there was something stuck to my upper eyelid, and I naturally reached up to brush it away. Bonnie easily caught my hand as if she had been expecting such a reaction. She cautioned me, "No, no! Don't touch your eyes, little girl. You mustn't touch your face while Aunty Bonnie is doing your make-up, little one. That's a no-no!" She wagged a playful warning finger at me, and I reluctantly let my hands drop to my padded groin. "Good girl, Baby Jennie! Keep sucking that dum-dums for Aunty Bonnie, baby. Nice and loud. Now look at my nose again, eyes half-closed.... That’s it. Good girl. What a good baby girl you are for Aunty Bonnie! Such a good baby girl," she fulsomely complimented me, and I cringed under her hollow words of praise.

When she was sure I was behaving properly, she began working on my other eye. I tried to stop cowering like a terrified child every time she gently pressed and then tugged on my delicate upper lashes. When she finished with the second eyelid she returned to the first eye, ordering; "Now keep your head very still, baby girl, and look up at the ceiling." She repeated the strange process on my lower eyelashes, but not as many times. For some strange reason tears started to form in both eyes when she finished the second set of lower lashes. When Bonnie saw my eyes misting over, she sharply ordered; "Tilt your head back further! Quickly!" She snapped confusingly, "You can't get them wet until they're dry!" With my head tilted right back the tears pooled in my eyes, making my vision swim distractingly. Bonnie started blowing in my wide staring eyes, making me blink furiously. She suddenly burst out laughing. "Oh my God!" She squealed in excitement, "They look fabulous!"

She carefully dabbed at the corners of my streaming eyes with the edge of a folded tissue, blotting up the salty liquid until my vision cleared. My neck was beginning to hurt by the time she allowed me to straighten up, but at least the stinging pain in my eyes had evaporated. My eyelids felt heavier than normal, and when I blinked, I could see my long fluttering eyelashes partially obscuring my upper field of view. I rapidly opened and closed my heavy lids while trying to watch the new longer lashes move, unwittingly batting my eyes at my chortling teen cousin like a vampish seductress in an old movie, until she told me, "Stop that, you cheap hussy!" Then she burst into another fit of giggles when I stared at her in wide-eyed astonishment.

Bonnie was humming a happy little tune as she took the white tray back to her open pink toolbox and put everything away. She selected some more items with which to decorate my face, and grinned wolfishly as she approached me holding a small pink pencil. She popped out my dummy and let it hang from the clip attached to my onesie collar, then firmly scrubbed my tingling lips with a tissue she first wet with her spit. "Excellent...." She grinned as she inspected my pouting, freshly-scrubbed lips. When she rubbed them with the ball of her thumb, they felt strangely puffy and swollen. "Part your lips a little more and pull them back slightly, like this," she commanded, indicating her requirements with her own lush, glossy pink mouth. She used the pencil to outline my slightly numb lips, drawing and re-drawing some lines repeatedly until she was satisfied.

"Now relax you mouth, baby girl. Look at me," she ordered crisply, grabbing my chin again and forcibly tilting my head to the desired angle. She nodded in approval and discarded the pencil. "Open your mouth, Baby Jennie, and stretch your lips wide this time." She unscrewed the cap from another narrow glass tube, producing a small pink brush on a stick. She showed me with her own lips how she wanted me to hold my mouth open, and I attempted to mimic her actions until she seemed satisfied. "Good girl, that's it! Hold your mouth exactly like that and don't move, Baby Jennie." She carefully painted my puffy tingling lips with the tiny pink brush, dipping it into the tube occasionally to replenish the pink liquid. When she finished, she ordered me to keep stretching my mouth wide open for a few more minutes while she screwed caps on things and put them away.

Just as Bonnie was tidying up, April strode back into the bathroom with Angelica in her arms. When my tall, raven-haired cousin gazed at me her vengeful smile seemed to grow wider than ever. The only thing she said was; "I think it's time to paint our little girls' nails." Angie squealed in excitement and wriggled out of April's arms, slithering to the floor and clapping her tiny hands in glee. April coaxed my bouncing little sister to sit beside me on the stool, but facing the vanity mirror, angled I think so she couldn't see my altered features. Bonnie filed Angie's fingernails first, and then manicured my longish nails into a neat oval shape.

While April started painting Angie's tiny fingernails with some candy-pink polish, Bonnie awkwardly knelt on the floor in her high white boots and started briskly filing my toenails, too. When she was satisfied, she wiped over my dusty toes with a damp washer, and then did the same for my fingernails. She took a bottle of stinky nail polish remover and some cotton balls from the big pink toolbox, and gave every single one of my nails a quick wipe-over as well. She produced two strange pieces of rubber - they looked like fat pink combs with only four teeth each - and she wedged the odd squishy teeth between each of my toes, forcing them to spread out. I expected to have my nails painted the same shade as my baby sister, so I was surprised when Bonnie started carefully painting my fingernails with some clear varnish.

"Place your hands on your knees, Baby Jennie, and don't touch anything, little girl," Bonnie warned me in syrupy baby talk.
"You keep your hands flat on the bench just like that, Angelica," April similarly cooed, "with your fingers spread wide. Good girl." Bonnie closed the toilet lid and sat on it, and then ordered me to put my right foot in her lap.

My heel rested on the tops of her glistening thigh-high white leather boots, and I could see right up her short denim miniskirt. My cousin was wearing panties over the top of her white tights. The shiny white crotch of her nylon bikini panties peeked out temptingly at me, and I couldn't help but stare in rapt fascination. Bonnie then carefully painted my toenails with clear varnish too, which seemed kind of pointless. By the time she had finished the toes on my left foot, April had done a second pink coat on Angie's fingernails. The colour was so iridescent, I stared in horrified fascination. As if to confirm my worst fears, a grinning April handed the bottle of fluorescent pink polish to her sister. "Here you go, Bonnie," she cooed. "Its Baby Jennie's turn now."

Bonnie actually giggled gleefully when she accepted the bottle, and then turned to me with a huge grin splitting her gorgeous painted face. "Oh my, you girls are going to look so pretty with your matching pink nails!" She exclaimed with unabashed delight. She kept grinning maniacally at me as she unscrewed the cap and ordered, "Keep your hands very still on your knees, Baby Jennie. Aunty Bonnie doesn't want to make a big mess everywhere."

Despite her stern command, my knees were trembling so badly, I couldn't hold my hands still. Bonnie shook her head at me in despair and after a meaningful glance at her sister, April made a suggestion. "Angelica, can you hold your hands up in the air with your fingers wide apart? Good girl," she praised Angie, when my little sister eagerly thrust her wet fingernails high into the air. "Now follow me with your hands held up high," urged April, and Angelica jumped off the stool and happily trotted after the tall teenager.

As soon as they disappeared from view, Bonnie leaned closer and tugged the scarf around my head down lower in front. "Hey!" I squeaked in alarm when she used it to cover my eyes, blocking off my vision. My dummy tumbled out of my mouth and bounced lightly on the pink plastic chain against my chest.
"Hush up, Baby Jennie," Bonnie ordered crossly. "I don't want you to see the make-up job I'm doing on you when it's like, only half-way done. Now put your hands up and spin around to face the mirror." I turned around rather awkwardly with my eyes covered and my hands up in the air, and when I sat back down, I wriggled my bottom deeper into the cosy wet nappy that surrounded me with comforting warmth.

Bonnie grabbed my wrists and guided my palms down flat onto the vanity bench. "Hands flat like that, spread your fingers, and don't move," she ordered sharply. "There! That's better," she cooed. "At least they're not shaking now and Aunty Bonnie can do a decent job." She twisted my wrists painfully this way and that as she painted my fingernails, but I blindly suffered through the ordeal in silence. Ten minutes after she finished painting the nails on both hands, she started doing a second coat. Then I had to awkwardly turn around and hold my hands in the air like Angelica for about fifteen minutes, while she placed each of my feet in turn on her lap and painted two coats on my toenails, too.

I hoped she was finally finished, but then I had to turn around once more while she painted yet another coat on my fingernails. I was grateful that when she made me place my feet in her lap again, she lifted my blindfold and tucked the scarf back up around the cooling curlers tightly pinned in my hair. After blinking sightlessly in the glaring bathroom light for a few seconds, I glanced down at my foot in Bonnie's lap. I saw my fluorescent candy-pink toenails screaming back at me, completely distracting me from the fascinating view up my cousin's indecently-short skirt. I checked my fingers and my iridescent pink fingernails glistened wetly in the bright lights, making my hands look even more dainty and feminine. My domineering cousin was frowning in concentration while she carefully painted another clear coat of polish over the intense candy-pink colour. When she finished the last little toe, she gave a loud sigh of satisfaction, making her huge bosom wobble distractingly.

"Now don't you move a muscle, Baby Jennie," Bonnie sternly cautioned me as soon as both my feet were flat on the floor. "Not one single muscle - or your Mummy and I are going to have a very long, very revealing conversation about your preferences in my underwear." I blanched at her chilling threat and nodded fearfully, making Bonnie laugh in wicked amusement. "Here," she commanded in a kinder tone, "suck on your dum-dums for Aunty Bonnie, little girl." She grabbed my big pink dummy from where it bounced against my trembling bosom, and shoved the thick latex teat between my lips. She smiled with heartless satisfaction when I automatically began to suck on the odd-tasting rubber nipple. Bonnie carefully inspected my face, frowning as she checked my eyebrows.

She selected a brown pencil from her voluminous toolbox and biting her plump bottom lip in concentration, gently ran the tip over the high arches of my heavily plucked brows. Bonnie then took out a tiny paintbrush, and it felt like she was softly brushing the fine bristle tip over the few remaining hairs she had overlooked. She examined each side critically before her beautiful painted face broke into a sunny smile again. "Perfect!" She laughed throatily as she snapped the lid on the small brown pencil, and then replaced it and the tiny paintbrush in her pink box of tricks. I heard Aunty April summon us from the kitchen, calling that lunch was ready. Bonnie grabbed my hand and carefully checked my fingernails, then muttered, "I don't want you touching anything, little girl. Keep those little fingers spread wide apart. And be careful to keep those toe-spreaders in place." She pointed a warning finger at the pink comb-things wedged between my splayed toes, but they seemed to be stuck firmly in position.

"Coming!" Bonnie yelled in reply to her sister, and then helped me to my feet. She held my wrist in an iron grip and as I waddled awkwardly downstairs alongside the towering teenager, I felt another unexpected rush of heat in my cooling wet nappy. Despite the embarrassing circumstances, I took comfort in the familiar soggy warmth that clung so sensuously to my sensitive genitals. As soon as we walked into the kitchen, Bonnie whisked me into the air and sat me in my highchair with a tell-tale wet 'splat!' She grinned at her big sister and commented, "It sounds like this little girl has a very wet nappy already. We'd better change Baby Jennie straight after lunch." Angelica was already sitting in her booster seat, her scarf-wrapped head and iridescent fingernails looking strangely out of place.

Bonnie turned to me and crooned in sickly-sweet baby talk, "Reach for the sky, Baby Jennie." I compliantly kept my hands thrust childishly in the air, and Bonnie buckled the leather restraining straps around me and then slid the tray into place, taking special care not to inadvertently brush the tops of her gleaming white leather boots against my wet toenails. She delicately grasped my scrawny wrists in her huge paws, and gently lowered my little hands to the sides of the tray while ordering, "You just hold onto the sides of your highchair tray, little girl. Aunty Bonnie doesn't want you to mess those pretty nails, you know? Not after I went to so much trouble like, to make them look so beautiful." I gingerly clutched the tray sides and submissively kept my little fingers carefully splayed so I wouldn't accidentally mar my nail polish. Aunty April clipped a fresh pink terry bib around my neck.

"Aunty Bonnie will have to feed Baby Jennie her lunch today," Bonnie happily declared, almost purring with satisfaction as she plucked my dummy from my pouting puffy pink lips and tucked it under my bib. Mummy had made sandwiches for lunch, and when my gorgeous grinning cousin placed my flat pink plastic Sesame Street plate on the highchair tray, I could see they were chicken, lettuce, avocado and mayonnaise - one of my favourites, but a bit messy. Mine had been cut into bite-size chunks, but I cast Bonnie a worried frown when she picked up the first small piece. I instinctively tried to wriggle away, and ineffectually pressed my curler-wrapped head back into the immovable wooden back of my highchair. With the leather crotch strap and waist belt tightly buckled and the tray solidly secured in place, escape was impossible. Bonnie snickered at my fearful demeanour then reassured me in mocking baby tones. "It's alright, Baby Jennie. Relax! Open up, baby girl. Aunty Bonnie is just going to feed you your yummy-scrummy sandwich, one tiny bite at a time."

I reluctantly opened my mouth whilst frowning suspiciously at her, but to my relief she popped the tasty morsel straight in without even touching my puffy painted lips. "We don't want to spoil your pretty make-up, do we precious?" Bonnie condescendingly chortled, explaining her unusual care. I glanced over to where April was sitting at the table next to Angie in her booster seat, and my little sister was eating a similar sandwich but cut in half, like a grown-up's. She wasn't wearing a bib either, but her white onesie looked pristine nonetheless. My sister glanced up at me and smiled sunnily at the infantile picture I presented being fed in my highchair.

"Your face looks pretty, Baby Jennie," Angie complimented me with disarming honesty, before turning to our smiling dark-haired cousin. My silly sister sweetly asked, "Will you feed me my sandwich too, please Aunty April?" Both teenagers glanced at my blushing pink cheeks, then at each other, before laughing indulgently.
"Angelica, you don't need me to feed you your sandwich!" Aunty April replied with a forgiving chuckle, her luscious cherry-red lips parting in a sweet smile. "It's just that Baby Jennie's pretty pink fingernails are still wet, and Aunty Bonnie didn't want her to mess up her nail polish. And besides, you're a big girl now in your booster seat - not a baby like Baby Jennie in her highchair."

Angie examined her own startling pink fingernails with obvious pride as she contentedly munched on her sandwich, then she smugly glanced over at me again. "And I don't have to wear a bib any more, do I? Because I'm a big girl now, aren't I, Aunty April?"
"Yes you are, Angelica," crooned April affectionately, wrapping her loving arms around my beaming little sister. "You're such a big girl now!"

Bonnie ate her own delicious sandwich whilst hand-feeding me pieces of mine. When I had consumed all of my lunch she held my pink sippy-cup for me, too. She tersely warned me to keep holding the sides of my tray, and not to try and take the cup from her hands. She kept the pink spout tilted so far back that I was forced to gulp down my warm milk. When I coughed slightly and a few drops of milk accidentally sprayed out of the corner of my mouth, Bonnie commented caustically, "Maybe a sippy-cup is like, too much for you to handle, Baby Jennie? You know, we might have to buy you some baby bottles, if you can't manage to drink properly from a sippy-cup yet." The girls laughed as she delicately dabbed at the corner of my mouth and chin with the bottom of my relatively clean bib, and I felt unnaturally proud that I hadn't spilled food all over my bibbie this time.

I wanted to protest that she had been feeding me too fast. Some warm milk accidentally went down the wrong way and I unintentionally coughed it back up. But Bonnie spitefully kept the spout pressed between my swollen lips and held it there until I had drained the contents, then she gently wiped my chin and pink-stained lips with my bibbie again. "Aren't you afraid you'll mess up her lipstick?" April inquired.
"Nope," Bonnie replied, unperturbed. "Besides, I haven't put any lipstick on Baby Jennie yet. That's just the lip-liner and base coat. You know, the permanent stain from the salon that I gave you to try as a base coat?" She reminded her concerned older sister.

April frowned momentarily before replying. "Oh yes, I remember. I didn't use it very often. It took ages to scrub my lips clean afterwards, even with make-up remover."
"Yes I know," grinned her little sister mischievously, as she dumped my empty pink cup and plate in the sink. "It takes like forever to remove without the special solvent, you know? You'll never get it off with like, soap and water." She pushed me forward so my full tummy was pressed against the highchair tray and forcibly patted my back. My cheeks turned red when I helplessly belched, my normal bodily functions seeming to be under the complete control of these two domineering females.

The tray was unlocked and removed and the next thing I knew, I had been unbuckled from my highchair and I was being led by the hand upstairs to the Nursery for my usual afternoon nap. I glanced around in dazed confusion trying to see Angelica. When Bonnie noticed my searching gaze she malevolently informed me; "Angie isn't being put down for her afternoon nap just yet, Baby Jennie. Aunty April is setting her up in front of the sunroom TV to watch one of her favourite DVDs like a bigger girl. But you on the other hand, are still just a baby. You need to have your wet nappy changed right away and be put down in your cot for sleepy-byes."

When I opened my mouth to object, my dummy teat was simply pressed between my swollen pink lips again to silence me. I didn't try to protest too much because I really was kind of tired. I shuffled wetly along beside her in my tell-tale, wide-legged waddle. "Pooh! It stinks in here!" Bonnie complained when we walked into the Nursery. "I think you should change your baby's dirty diaper first, before I change you. You can show Aunty Bonnie what a good mummy you are," she suggested, her malicious grin widening when she caught me scowling up at her around the guard of my huge pink dummy.

At least she didn't make me treat my dolly Justine like a real baby the way Mummy always did. I simply had to undress her and untape the filthy smelly diaper from around her rubber loins. After tying the rolled-up disposable in a scented nappy sack and dumping it in the bin, I carefully carried my stinky poop-caked dolly into the en-suite bathroom. There I was allowed to hose Justine down with hot water from the hand-held shower head in the bath. After most of the hard dried excrement had been blasted away, Bonnie ordered me to quickly scrub my dolly's crotch and bottom with a soapy nail brush. In minutes my dolly smelled fresh and clean again, and I towelled her dry with a sigh of thanks.

My overbearing cousin silently handed me a clean toddler disposable from Angelica's stack on the shelf under the change table. She scrutinised me closely as I gently caressed powder into my baby's rubber crotch and bottom, smiling and nodding in approval at my sure maternal movements. I happily taped the over-large clean diaper around Justine's loins, silently thankful that I wouldn't have to sleep in a room tainted by the stench of my sister's stale poo-poo. I swiftly dressed my dolly under my cousin's watchful eyes, and then gratefully gathered her to my bosom.

"Good girl! What a good mummy you will make some day, Baby Jennie - when you finally grow up." Bonnie complimented me in a voice that reeked of sarcasm. I ignored her less-than-subtle taunts and placed my freshly diapered baby on her back in my cot as directed. The buxom teen grunted with effort when she lifted me onto the change table, and I compliantly lay back, suddenly aware of the cold rollers still painfully twined in my hair. She checked the polish on my toenails was completely dry, and was removing the spongy pink toe separators when April strolled in to join us.

"Is Baby Jennie's nappy very wet?" April inquired with maternal concern. She snickered at Bonnie's definitive reply.
"She's saturated! I'm changing her now because this nappy can't possibly last her through nap time."
"Oh yes, Baby Jennie is quite the hopeless bed-wetter! Isn't she?" The dark-haired beauty sneered disdainfully when I blushed rosily at her cruel reminder.

"She certainly is!" Bonnie emphatically agreed, and when I pouted and grumbled wordlessly around my dummy in protest, she frowned down at me forbiddingly. "Not a word out you, Baby Jennie! You know that almost every time you sleep at our place, little girl, you wet the bed!" I sulkily stuck out my bottom lip, but I couldn't deny the truth of her accusation. Every three months or so, Mummy and Daddy went away together for the weekend. Angelica and I usually had to stay overnight with Aunty Cath and her bossy daughters. On a few - okay, most - of those occasions, I'd wet the bed.

What I didn't know was that several times my evil female cousins had secretly helped things along. They already knew about my questionable bladder control and occasionally after I fell asleep, they would sneak into my room carrying a small bowl of warm water. Desperately controlling their giggles, they would take one of my hands and gently lower it into the warm water without waking me. They usually held my fingers submerged until I sighed and relaxed in my sleep, my bladder unconsciously releasing as in my dream state, I peed in the shower or the bath, or wherever. If I ever woke up afterwards, I always found the dark room empty and my bed wet. Realising it was too late to do anything about it, I generally rolled over in my warm wet puddle and drifted straight back to sleep.

At first Aunty Cath had simply berated me each morning for being a disgusting bed wetter, but because my reputation preceded me, she had already fitted my bed with a crackling protective plastic sheet over the mattress as a precaution. The last two weekends I slept over at Aunty Cath's, she had prissily insisted I wear a pair of pull-ups to bed, holding out the embarrassing padded toddler pants at bedtime until I reluctantly accepted them. She stood there waiting expectantly and tapping her toe impatiently until I was forced to pull down my pyjama pants while she watched. I stepped into the rustling disposable training pants, my cheeks blazing with humiliation as I pulled the shameful symbol of a hopeless bedwetter over my shivering bottom.

I noticed her snickering daughters watching me from the doorway, as well. I kept my back to them so they wouldn't catch a glimpse of my tiny manhood before I could tug my embarrassing puffy training pants in place. Then Aunty Cath wordlessly handed me a pair of plain white plastic pants to pull over the top. My cheeks glowed with fresh shame as I drew the snug crackling baby pants over my thickly-padded loins, before I was allowed to replace my pyjama bottoms.

Every time I wore the humiliating pull-ups and baby pants to bed, I had woken up drenched, although Aunty seemed pleased that her sheets and bedding had escaped unscathed. The last time our parents picked us up after their weekend away, I remember Aunty mentioning to Mummy that she should take some of the bed-wetter pants home with her, and make me wear nappies or pull-ups to bed at home, too. But thankfully Mummy had dismissively replied, "Jeremy doesn't usually wet his bed at home - just his pants during the day." But I was silently glad that night when she let me dress for bed without altering my usual nightwear.

I bit on my dummy teat and stopped whinging, and obediently raised my bottom so Bonnie could slide down my damp yellow plastic panties, which she discarded in the nappy bucket. She unpinned my wet nappy and ordered me to lift my bum again as she tugged it away. With a disdainful shake of her head, the rolled soggy bundle followed the panties into the smelly bucket, and then she slammed the lid closed. April stood beside the table and watched as Bonnie carefully wiped me down with baby wipes front and back.

When she lifted my ball sack to wipe underneath, she paused to examine me closely. She plucked out a small dark hair growing from between my legs, and held it up to her big sister with a disappointed frown and a shake of her pretty head. I shrieked in pain and defensively clamped my legs together. "It's not very big now, is it?" Bonnie snickered disparagingly of my shrunken manhood, and she viciously scrubbed at the damp powder stuck to my wrinkled ball sack. I whimpered and writhed in pain.
April leaned forward and sadistically flicked the sensitive tip of my shrunken peenie, making me squeal in agony. "It's too small for a penis," she chortled derisively, as my offended genitals shrivelled even more. "It looks more like a girl's clittie."

Her sister laughed brightly in response, and asked me in a sing-song baby voice; "Is that what it is, Baby Jennie? Is that your clittie, little girl? Your teeny-weeny clittie?" Terrified of more punishment, I quickly nodded in red-faced agreement, sucking on my soother for comfort as they teased me unendingly. “Aww, what a cute widdle cwittie!” Bonnie grinned at my shame-faced response and poured a handful of sweetly-scented powder over my tiny cock and balls, caressing it over my tummy and between my splayed thighs with smooth sure strokes. I sucked harder on my dummy teat and tried to shift my head so the rollers and pins weren't digging into my scalp. There were so many, it seemed impossible to find a comfortable position.

Before Bonnie wrapped the fresh fluffy nappy around my hips, she grinned down victoriously at my cowering form. She painfully grabbed my tiny pink acorn between the tips of her long, lustrous pink fingernails. In vain I tried to pull away, but she continued squeezing me harder as she ruthlessly demanded, "What's this called, Baby Jennie?" She maliciously pinched the little wrinkled head of my frightened peenie between the tips of her long pink nails for emphasis.
I squealed piteously. "Oww! Oh! It'th my clittie!" I whimpered in shame around my pacifier. "Owie! Oh pleathe, it'th my clittie! My clittie, Aunty Bonnie! Oww! Ow! Oww! Oh pleathe?" I squeaked, begging for release. I moaned my thanks when my poor bruised organ was freed and the comforting thick nappies were safely pinned around me once more.

I had to endure their giggled chorused commands to "Lift your footsies and point your toesies like a pretty ballerina, Baby Jennie!" As I obeyed in pink-cheeked silence, April slid a crackling pair of laundered but similarly poop-stained yellow panties up my compliantly raised legs, and I knew this humiliating instruction was to become a regular addition to my shameful diaper changing routine.

April effortlessly lifted me off the change table and carried me to my open crib, and I whined in irritation when my head hit the pillow. The rollers and pins dug painfully into my scalp again. I grumbled and plucked ineffectually at the silk scarf still tied around my head, but the statuesque teenager yanked my hand away with a warning frown. "Ah-ah-ah! Leave that scarf alone, Baby Jennie," April sternly cautioned me. "Aunty Bonnie will be very cranky if you remove a single roller before she is ready." Bonnie nodded in sombre agreement as she raised and locked the pink side rail.

"I'll take the rollers out after your nap, sweetheart," Bonnie blithely promised me, and merely chuckled in derision when I frowned and clutched Baby Justine to my breast. I rolled away from her in annoyance, facing the pink bars lining the wall and sulking resentfully. I stuffed my fluffy pink teddy between my knees and angrily chewed on the dummy teat clenched between my teeth, and cuddled my baby as I imagined myself exacting sadistic revenge on my cruel overbearing cousins. The soothing scent of my dolly’s clean disposable wafted up to my nose. I whispered the horrible details in Justine's tiny rubber ear, but before I could plot a suitable climax for their punishment, I fell fast asleep clutching my dolly in my arms, despite my uncomfortable head wrapping.

To be continued in chapter 9.

In chap. 9 Jeremy is taken to the hairdressing salon by his dominant female cousins to have his ears pierced. While there, the sissy baby has an unfortunate accident in his nappy.

Chapter 9. ‘The Beauty Spot.’

I awoke to the strangely familiar sensation of someone briskly patting my wet nappy front. As I groggily came to on my back in my cot, I peered up at my grinning cousin Bonnie. I sucked louder on my dum-dums in confusion when my unfamiliar long eyelashes fluttered distractingly in my field of view. I pushed my baby dolly away and glanced up to see Bonnie's pendulous breasts swaying over the raised side railing of my pastel-pink crib, the hot-pink lettering on her tight white t-shirt temporarily stretched into indecipherability. The beautifully made-up teen gently smacked the crotch of my white onesie with her cupped palm and fingers. The plastic panties underneath made that tell-tale wet 'thwack-thwack-thwack' noise over the soggy nappies they contained, a sound so familiar to all mothers with diapered babies.

I realised I was fully aroused beneath my wonderfully warm wet swaddling. Bonnie's huge golden eyes glinted with sardonic amusement when the heel of her hand rested on the obvious bulge of my swollen erection. She grinned nastily down at me while cooing, "Wakey-wakey, Baby Jennie! Ooo, who's an excited, wet little girl after her nap then? Hmm?" She stopped slapping my bulging crotch and let the crib rail drop with an alarming 'crash!' I glanced over to see April lifting my sleepy sister from her bed, too. Angelica's roller-free head was covered in a mass of bobbing platinum curls. I anxiously reached up to my scalp and found the silk scarf still tied in place over the horrid curlers, but I was relieved to see my smiling mother watching us from the Nursery doorway.

"Don't come in yet," April entreated our mother before she could step inside the room. "Let us change them into fresh nappies and finish their make-up and hair-dos, Aunty Isabell? Then we can dress them up for you, and show you how gorgeous they look," my older cousin insisted, as she carried Angie to the change table and unclipped the crotch of her white onesie.
"Alright, girls,” Mummy readily agreed. “Here, take these drinks for the babies and call me when you're ready," After handing our sippy-cups to Bonnie she tossed us a quick smile, turned on her heel and left us to the teenagers‘ devices.

As soon as April finished changing Angie's drenched diaper, Bonnie handed my sister the purple sippy-cup and placed my pink cup aside on the dressing table. The buxom teenager lifted me out of my crib and lay me back on the padded vinyl surface of the change table. She forced my splayed thighs wider apart to open the snap crotch of my snug white onesie. My stiffie had already begun to wilt, so I relaxed and tried to ignore the 'Chicks Rule' statement emblazoned across my overbearing cousin's massive bosoms. I gazed vacantly out the Nursery window where I could see the bright afternoon sun starting to break through the thinning cloud cover.

I yawned and rubbed the sleep from my heavy lids with my fists. April asked her sister in a concerned voice; "Bonnie? Should Baby Jennie be allowed to rub her eyes like that?" The enormous chestnut beehive loomed closer as my buxom younger cousin leaned forward. She examined my eyelashes and plucked eyebrows, then she smiled, stretching wide her freshly-painted, bee-stung lips.

"She's fine," Bonnie reassured her worried big sister, with a dismissive flick of her beautifully manicured fingernails. "Her brows are still like, perfect! I haven't put any mascara on her eyelashes yet. Those are the permanent lash extensions from my salon that I glued on her, you know? Like ours, they won't come off for weeks - no matter how hard this pretty little baby girl rubs her big blue eyes!"

April giggled at her sister’s patronising comments and returned her attention to my little sister, dressing her in some shiny yellow rumba panties with row after row of shimmering white lace frills across the seat. Bonnie directed her glowing golden orbs on my anxious face. "Such a wet little girl you are, Baby Jennie," the grinning teen crooned mock-maternally. She whisked down my damp yellow plastic panties to my ankles and unpinned my saturated swaddling. "This nappy is wet through already!" Bonnie exclaimed in horrified amazement, holding up my drenched diaper distastefully between the tips of her thumb and forefinger for all to see, before disdainfully tossing it in the nappy bucket and complaining, "I only changed her like, about an hour ago!"

I fearfully eyed her cranky expression while she cleaned my thankfully limp genitals with the cold baby wipes, but she didn't seem interested in torturing me for the moment. Well, not physically. She scrubbed the sticky powder remnants from the shrivelled head of my peenie with unnecessary vigour as she ruthlessly demanded, "What's this called again, Baby Jennie?" She formed the long pink talons of her right thumb and index finger into a menacing pincer, and snapped together the sharp tips near the head of my wrinkled organ in warning.

I knew what she wanted me to say. I blushed with shame as I used the humiliating female terms she expected to hear. "It'th my clittie, Aunty Bonnie," I whispered around my dummy teat.
"What was that again, little girl?" April sharply demanded from across the room.
"My clittie, Aunty April! It'th my wittle cwittie," I submissively repeated in a louder squeak. My pink cheeks turned crimson with shame when both girls giggled in sadistic amusement. Even Angelica laughed at me, although I felt certain she couldn't understand the topic under discussion.

Bonnie raised my ankles with one hand and scrubbed my urine-stained bumcheeks and bottom crease with the other. At the same time April removed my headscarf and started unwinding the dozens of rollers twined in my long blonde locks. It was probably just as well. The repeated painful tugging on my scalp thankfully prevented any chance of my becoming inadvertently aroused by Bonnie's overly-familiar handling, no matter how many times she poked her wipe-covered finger inside my tightly puckered anus. I even dared to grumble resentfully around my mouth-filling pacifier when April seemed determined to impatiently rip out the remaining curlers before fully unrolling them.

After a thorough oiling and powdering of my genitals - which started unwelcome fresh stirrings down below - Bonnie made sure the clean nappies were snugly pinned around my hips. She remorselessly unclipped, removed and refastened the big pink nappy pins several times, until she was satisfied my diaper was tight enough. I was grateful my clittie hadn't swollen enough to attract her attention before it was safely covered in the multiple layers of soft fluffy terrycloth, and I remained meekly compliant while the grinning teen finished diapering me. The same damp yellow panties with the nasty orange stains were slid up my legs and tugged into place over my lovely fresh nappy, and the tight elastic leg bands tucked in safely at the crotch.

Bonnie crooned in saccharine baby talk, "Lift those little footsies in the air, and point your toesies like a pretty ballerina, Baby Jennie." April snickered and even Angelica giggled when I obeyed the humiliating instructions in pink-cheeked silence. Bonnie drew the shiny yellow satin rumba panties over my compliantly-pointed toes and up to my thighs, before sweetly ordering; "Footsies down, and lift that botty high for Aunty Bonnie. Good girl! And down, Baby Jennie," she commanded needlessly after she tugged the tight elastic waistband up over my thick nappies and crackling baby panties. She sat me up, smiling in approval.

Both chuckling teenagers finger-combed out the mess of pale blonde curls bouncing around my bowed head, then Bonnie handed me my pink sippy-cup full of water. I quickly drained the contents, grateful to slake my sudden thirst. "Look at those gorgeous curls," Bonnie cooed in honeyed baby tones. She asked her older sister, "Don't they make her look younger and more feminine?"
"They certainly do!" April enthusiastically agreed, likewise using her fingers to tease up Angelica's bouncing blonde halo. "Such pretty little girls," she crooned in affectionate saccharine tones, making my sister beam with pleasure.

The two Amazons fussed and fawned over Angie and me, assuring us that they were turning both of us into beautiful little girls. I passively sat on my big padded bum on the change table and watched as the girls dressed Angelica first, lowering her frothy white petticoat over her smiling face and dressing her in some sheer white socks with pretty yellow lace trim. Her gleaming black patent Maryjanes were buckled over the top and she almost danced on the spot in excitement when Bonnie finally lowered the slithering yellow party frock over her shimmering blonde curls. While Bonnie tied the gauzy darker yellow waist sash for my sister, our taller raven-haired cousin turned her dark brown eyes on me where I sat on the change table. She imperiously pushed me backwards onto my back and slid some frilly white anklet socks on my feet.

"Ballerina toesies," April crooned to me, and she smirked at my swift automatic response. I felt my cheeks redden in embarrassment and I sucked harder on my dum-dums for comfort. I knew without checking that the lace frills were yellow, too. She fussily rearranged the wide lace embellishments above my ankles till she was satisfied they were sitting evenly. April buckled my black Maryjanes in place too, and then she lifted me down from the change table and removed my white onesie over my head. She thoughtlessly left my dummy chain clipped to the collar, so the teat was unexpectedly ripped from my puffy pink-stained lips.

"Look at the gorgeous frou-frou chiffon petticoat we brought for our sweet new toddler cousin," April crooned in a sickly-sweet tone. I fingered my tender swollen lips and glared up at her. She handed Bonnie the new short white petticoat first, and the grinning teen curtly ordered me to raise my hands and hold my head up. I pouted and sulkily stuck out my fat bottom lip, but obeyed her instructions nonetheless. The glistening bodice was made from white bridal satin with slender shoestring shoulder straps, and the whispering mass of chiffon petties underneath flared out crazily over my heavily diapered hips like a ballerina's tutu, failing utterly to cover my bulging yellow rumba panties. Despite the warm afternoon, the heavy satin material felt strangely cool against my sensitive little nipples, which unexpectedly stiffened at the slithering liquid caress.

"Now for your pretty new party dress, Baby Jennie. Chin up baby, and hands up high in the air again sweetie, like a pretty ballerina." Bonnie carried the shimmering frock over to me and it rustled loudly with her every step. Like Angelica's, my dress was made from buttercup-yellow satin, with a wide darker yellow organza sash that tied in back. It had pretty embroidered flowers and tiny ribbon bows decorating the bodice in front. I noticed the wispy dangling ends of the wide ribbon sash fell way past the brief lace-lavished hem. The shiny frock had puffy elbow-length, gathered and ruffled sleeves, edged with white lace and tiny yellow satin ribbon bows. The high round neckline had a frilly white, lace-trimmed collar.

They both helped ease the slithering feminine creation over my head, threading my hands through the puffy sleeves with the elastic cuffs. April buttoned up the back for me, all the way to the nape of my neck. They fluffed and fussed with the flounced lace-edged hem and swishing petties underneath, cooing in pleasure at the frilly juvenile outfit. Bonnie took forever tying the wispy sash to her satisfaction in a big floppy bow behind the small of my back. "It's perfect on her, April! Look at that fit! My, my! Isn't she the prettiest little girl ever in yellow!" Bonnie exclaimed in unabashed delight, and I blushed rosily under her effusive praise. It was the frilliest of little-girl party frocks, and like the rustling flounced petticoat underneath, it didn't even cover half my shameful baby panties, front or back.

When I glanced in the Nursery full-length mirror on the back of the wardrobe door, my eyes were drawn to the bulging crotch of my shiny yellow rumba panties. I turned around and peeked over my shoulder to check the rear view. Under the bobbing frothy petties, my huge diapered bottom stuck out obscenely for all the world to see, exaggerated by the three rows of shimmering white lace dancing across my bulging tushie. I realised that anyone who saw me would instantly know I was wearing nappies under my frilly baby dress. I cringed in fresh shame and dropped my gaze to the floor, too humiliated to consider examining the feminine alterations to my blushing red face.

"I agree, Bonnie! She's adorable!" April crooned. "A pretty baby girl in her beautiful little party frock!" My eyes watered over in sheer mortification, and I felt a single unstoppable tear trickle down my burning red cheek. Bonnie dragged me into the Nursery en-suite bathroom with April and Angie on our heels.
Bonnie spun me around to face her and cooed mock-sympathetically, "Oh honey, you're crying! It's alright, Baby Jennie! You must be overcome with tears of joy to be dressed in such a darling baby frock. Is that it, sweetie?"

Remembering the promise I'd made to Mummy, I could only sniffle and nod tearfully in agreement. "Don't cry, baby girl. We just have to finish your hair and make-up, and then we can show your Mummy what a beautiful little girl you really are! Sit down facing me, Baby Jennie." Bonnie backed me up till my big padded bottom plopped onto the seat facing away from the vanity mirror, and my cheeks grew rosier when I realised my fresh diaper was already warm and wet under my bottom. I hadn't even felt myself wetting, but there was no doubt my nappy crotch was comfortingly warm and soggy between my helplessly splayed thighs.

My cousins laughed at my subdued behaviour as I discretely rocked back and forth in my delightful humid swaddling, my excitable little clittie reacting as always to the stimulating clinging warmth. Bonnie finished fluffing out my long blonde curls, then she gently blotted away my tears with a tissue. With a calculating smile, she picked up a shiny yellow satin ribbon from the bathroom vanity. Bonnie grinned with evil satisfaction as she drew the ribbon around my curly locks from behind my neck, and began tying a fancy bow in front over my crown. The long ends dangled distractingly in front of my face until she tied them in a huge floppy bow on top. She smiled mercilessly down at me, obviously pleased with her handiwork, and then gripped my chin to turn my face from side to side as she closely examined my make-up.

My sister's hair was similarly bound in a matching yellow satin ribbon. Angie was so excited she could barely sit still. "Oh please, Aunty April?" She begged our taller dark-haired cousin, as April finished tying a similar floppy double bow in her hair ribbon. "Can you please take us out for a walk in our new matching dresses? Look!" She exclaimed, pointing to the high frosted bathroom window. It gleamed with brilliant sunshine. "The sun's come out!"
"We'll see," temporised April, ignoring my horrified expression to glance at her beautifully made-up younger sister.

Bonnie smiled and nodded enthusiastically in agreement before she bent over her pink plastic toolbox again. She sorted through the lipsticks in the box till she found the gold tube she wanted, selecting a candy-pink shade of lipstick for me to match my fluorescent nails. I shuddered as she firmly gripped my chin and brought the faintly-perfumed pink stick closer to my pink-stained mouth. I felt the goosebumps rise as she smoothed the soft moist lipstick over my obediently-stretched, pink-stained lips. She had me press and carefully rub my greasy swollen lips together, demonstrating the correct technique with her own perfect glossy pink mouth. I had to 'blot' my painted lips on a folded tissue she held for me, and then Bonnie made me stretch my mouth wide so she could apply a creamy second coat. She made me repeat the lip-smacking business and blot again before she was satisfied. Angie sat next to me and held my hand reassuringly. I trembled with nervous excitement even as I blinked back hot tears of humiliation.

Bonnie painted Angie's cupid's bow lips too, to the delighted giggles of my thrilled baby sister, and then our cousin replaced the capped lipstick in her toolbox. She produced a long skinny black tube which she unscrewed, smirking at me in anticipation. She looked like a cat eyeing a bowl of cream. "Keep your face perfectly still for Aunty Bonnie, precious girl," she tenderly cooed to me, laughing gaily at my worried expression. She ordered me to stare at her nose and proceeded to brush my extended eyelashes with a little black spiky mascara wand, commanding me to blink very slowly at the same time. She grinned in delight when she was finished. Finally she approached me holding a tiny pink flip-top container in one hand and a small version of my Daddy's shaving brush in the other. After she repeatedly rubbed the bristles in the little pink pot, she stroked them across my cheeks, and I realized the delicate perfumed brush was as soft as a mink coat.

Bonnie brushed a hint of mascara on Angelica's little lashes and some pink blusher on her high round cheeks. April finished by squirting a dash of strong floral perfume on my wrists and then another unexpected cold squirt below my neck, making me wince and squeal in surprise. I made a wry face at their amused chortles when Angelica chided me in that superior knowing tone; "It's only perfume, Baby Jennie! Don't be such a sooky baby!" She eagerly presented her wrists and throat to be sprayed, giggling and shivering in delight at the perfume's cold kiss.

"Okay, stand up and turn around for us, girls!" April instructed, clapping her hands for emphasis. "Gorgeous! Angelica, you look simply gorgeous! Come on, Baby Jennie, twirl your skirts for me. Faster, baby. Faster! Yes, that's it! Beautiful! You both make beautiful little girls! You're absolutely adorable!"
"Thank you Aunty April," simpered my delighted little sister, performing a neat curtsey. I tried to stand still and dizzily gazed down at the frilly mass of swishing skirts and rustling petties still swaying and bobbing distractingly around my heavily padded hips.

I felt so humiliated, but when I caught sight of my reflection in the bathroom mirror, I was astounded! With the ribbon bow in my long curly hair, the ruffled lace collar around my neck, and the lace and ribbons on the sheer puffy sleeves all framing my face, I looked every bit as frilly and sissified as I had ever seen my baby sister appear. I saw what took Bonnie so long tying the sash behind me. It was huge! It was all pouffed out at the sides, with the curves of the wispy bows visible from the front like the wings of an angel - or a fairy! The long gossamer ends practically floated down the back past the frothy lace-lavished hem of the too-short satin dress. I looked and smelled like the sissiest toddler girl ever in my delicate lace and ribbons. "Isn't she beautiful?" Bonnie crooned, cruelly gripping my shoulders and pushing me forward until I had to confront my brightly-lit reflection in the mirror.

I almost didn't recognise the beautiful feminine face staring wide-eyed back at me. The gorgeous little girl in the mirror had big blues eyes like mine. They were framed by impossibly-long black lashes that batted seductively every time I blinked, making me look like an oversized China doll. My glossy pink lips looked huge and puffy and doll-like, as if I had been sucking my dummy continuously for several weeks. My high round cheeks were pink and rosy, the rouge exaggerated by my uncontrollable blushes.

With the mass of blonde curls bouncing distractingly above my head, I realised I looked like a six-year-old Shirley Temple from one of her old movies - except in nappies! The floppy satin bow sat above my platinum curls like a bright yellow sign, drawing even more attention to my feminine juvenile appearance. I looked beautiful. I was a beautiful big baby girl! I felt my excitable clittie stirring inside the deliciously warm wet folds of my nappy, and I watched in cringing mortification as it inadvertently began to swell and grow, till it visibly tented out the smooth shiny front of my yellow satin panties.

"Oh, you do look beautiful, Baby Jennie!" April giggled at my astonished expression. When she noticed the change on my face and the direction of my humiliated gaze, her big brown eyes dropped to the bulging front of my shimmering rumba panties. Her smile instantly turned into a scowl. "And I can see you like it, too," she commented scathingly.

My face burned with fresh shame when she called Mummy in to check my freshly-feminised appearance. This was unbearable! When our mother appeared in the bathroom doorway carrying my dolly Justine, April turned us around to face her, demanding; "Aren't your daughters beautiful, Aunty Isabell? Look at your beautiful Baby Jennie!" I knew my cheeks were blazing with embarrassment and I kept my eyes glued to the floor. My excited little sister performed another neat curtsey beside me and politely thanked our grinning cousins.

"Good girl, Angelica! Such good manners, darling," Mummy praised her, before turning her gaze back on me. "But what about you, Baby Jennie? What do you say when someone compliments you, sweetie? Really! You must improve your manners, baby girl. Little girls must always try to be polite, respectful and sweet-tempered. Remember; you promised to be a good little girl for Mummy today? If you don't start acting like one, we might have to keep you in your nappies and frilly baby dresses until you learn to behave properly!"

Mummy's threat certainly caught my attention. "Thank you, Aunty April and Aunty Bonnie," I mumbled submissively, not daring to look at them.
"That will never do!" Bonnie frostily declared. "Will it, ladies? Eyes on us, and let's hear you loud and clear, my pretty little miss! And with a proper curtsey, too." Mummy and April roared with laughter at her cruel suggestion, and I flashed back to the times when Sally had taught me to curtsey. But we were alone in her parent's garage at the time - apart from her little sister Daisy, who had been dressed in her ballet tutu, the same as us.

It had been ages since I'd attempted a curtsey, but I clumsily grabbed the wide-flared edges of my slippery yellow skirt and bent my knees, and tried to glance up demurely at the grinning women from below lowered lids. I repeated in a clearer, high-pitched warble, "Thank you, Aunty Bonnie and Aunty April."
"I see we will have to work on your deportment as well as your manners, Baby Jennie," April commented unkindly, and then she and Bonnie demonstrated the proper technique.

They made me practise my curtsey several times, until I remembered to correctly point the toes of my gleaming Maryjanes and bend my knees, the way my neighbour Sally had taught me, all those months ago in our pretend-ballet classes. Then April sternly advised me, "You are wearing my favourite old party frock, Baby Jennie, so I want you to be particularly careful not to soil it this afternoon. You could find yourself going with us to a dress shop to buy a replacement; and who knows what we could end up buying? We girls tend to become so carried away when shopping for new clothes!" Panic coursed through me as I pictured myself in some pre-teen girl's boutique dressed like an overgrown toddler girl, accompanied by my vindictive teenage cousins.

Mummy stepped closer to me on her click-clacking white high heels, and grasped my chin firmly. She crouched down and tilted my face up, till she could examine my make-up more closely. "Mmm! Don't you smell lovely, Baby Jennie! Bonnie, you've done a fantastic job on her face!" Mummy complimented my grinning cousin. Her glossy pink lips stretched even wider, till I thought her painted face might split in two. "She's absolutely gorgeous! Look at those long girlish lashes, and those huge pink lips! And her femininely-shaped eyebrows… And look at her pretty pink nails! Baby Jennie looks positively feminine - and yet so juvenile!"
After she released my chin, she smiled when I tremulously mumbled, "Thank you, Mummy." Her pleased smile widened to a grin when I plucked at the slippery edges of my slinky satin frock and attempted a more successful curtsey, glancing up shyly at her to check her reaction. To my relief, she beamed in apparent delight at my attempts at demure feminine behaviour.

"Good girl, Baby Jennie! What a beautiful, polite little girl you are. I love it, Bonnie! Well done!" Mummy effusively praised us.
"Thanks so much, Aunty Isy," replied the heavily made-up teenager, who almost glowed with happiness at Mummy's heartfelt compliments. "I painted like, a special adhesive base coat on Baby Jennie's nails first, then two coats of colour, you know, with a top coat to seal them. Her nails should look good for like, at least a week. You told us Baby Jennie was embarrassed about being dragged out in public looking like a sissy baby boy, but now, you know, everyone will think she really is like, just a pretty little girl."
"A little girl who still likes to wear nappies," Mummy spitefully added, after she glanced down at the tell-tale tenting front of my yellow satin rumba panties, clearly discernible under my brief baby frock. My cheeks blazed with fresh embarrassment and I wondered why I couldn't control my wayward clittie.

Mummy turned her attention on my pretty baby sister, praising her tiny pink fingernails too, and fussing over her fabulous curls and her sweetly made-up face till Angie almost burst with pride. "Angelica, why don't you grab your baby Sophie from your bed in the Nursery, and take Baby Jennie downstairs and play with your beautiful baby sister? I'm sure she's dying to play 'Mummies and babies' with your dolls again, and eager to participate in all sorts of refined feminine activities. Aren't you, my beautiful Baby Jennie?" Mummy insisted in a tone that brooked no argument, before thrusting my dolly Justine into my arms and gently propelling me towards the door with a crisp smack on my warm wet bottom. "Off you go, girls. Mummy just wants to have a little private chat with your Aunties for a moment."

She hurried me on my way with several loud firm swats to my heavily diapered rear, and I wondered if she could tell I was already wet. I resentfully cuddled Justine to my breast, and inhaled the calming combined scents of baby powder and her lightly-perfumed disposable diaper, wafting up to my little nose from under my clean dolly's faded blue dress. Angelica took one of my hands possessively in hers and dragged me out of the Nursery, our perfect candy-pink nails flashing distractingly in the bright light.

"C'mon, Baby Jennie! Let's play 'Mummies and babies' again," my bouncing baby sister bossily ordered. I had no choice but to obediently waddle along behind her. I tried to ignore the swollen hardness cocooned inside my warm wet swaddling, as the sensitive tip rubbed thrillingly against the damp terry towelling with my every awkward step downstairs. Behind me I heard Mummy ask Bonnie if her salon was busy this afternoon, but I was dragged out of earshot before I could catch my buxom cousin's chuckled reply. My skin crawled in terrified anticipation though, when I heard their shrieks of feminine laughter echoing down the stairs from the Nursery bathroom.

After changing Justine's drab blue outfit for the shiny pink satin dress she originally came with, I cradled her in my lap. I discretely caressed my throbbing wet clittie beneath the cover of my dolly’s skirts, whenever I thought Angelica wasn't watching too closely. I used my baby doll's flounced pink frock to cover the naughty fingers I repeatedly pressed over my own damp satin-covered crotch. I loved the way my warm wet nappies seemed to wrap so sensuously around the sensitive head of my stiff clittie. While I sat on the floor beside Angelica clutching my dolly, I gently rocked back and forward in the humid warmth to increase the thrilling erotic sensations.

A few minutes later our desultory play was interrupted when April and Mummy strode into the sunroom to collect us. "Girls!" Mummy called, clapping her hands sharply for our attention. "April and Bonnie decided they want to show off their handiwork, so they are taking you for a quick trip to Bonnie's beauty salon." My erect clittie wilted in fright and I felt a fresh spurt of warmth in my damp nappies at the startling unwelcome news. Angelica squealed with excitement and clapped her little hands in glee, and threw herself at April's long legs again.

My taller laughing cousin squatted and scooped the little girl into her arms with a pleased smile, ignoring the horrified expression on my prettily made-up face. "But wait!" Mummy protested. "April, do you have a toddler's car seat in your car?"
"I certainly do," replied the grinning raven-haired beauty with disarming confidence, holding my beaming sister in one arm. "In fact, I have two toddler car seats in the back of my car today, just for my beautiful little girl cousins."
"Wonderful!" My Mummy smiled happily at our taller cousin as April possessively took one of my tiny hands in hers. I gazed down at my cousin’s menacing black stiletto-heeled boots with mounting trepidation.

My thoughtful Mummy asked April, "Do you want me to pack a change of diapers for the girls?"
"No, don't bother, Aunty Isy. We won't take very long; only about half an hour," Bonnie crisply reassured Mummy, as she strode into the sunroom in her towering thigh-high white platform boots. "I rang and spoke to Mrs Worth, the owner. Everything's fine," she concluded mysteriously. The listening women's smiles grew broader. "Let me look after Baby Jennie and you can take Angelica," Bonnie suggested to her elder sister, holding out her large hand for mine.

When I was reluctant to accept Bonnie's beckoning fingers, Mummy cautioned me; “You behave yourself like a good little girl. You don't want Mummy to have to buckle you into your pink toddler harness for your trip to the salon, do you, Baby Jennie? I can - if you really want me to? Is that what you want, baby girl? It won't take but a moment for me to fetch it." Mummy asked these questions in a tone laden with warning, even as she stepped threateningly towards the back door where my pink leather harness hung waiting. I clamped my dolly under my arm and frantically snatched my cousin's outstretched fingers, making her chuckle. Bonnie slowly escorted me down the hallway to the front door crooning saccharine words of encouragement to me. I waddled after my sister and my cousins in my warm wet nappies and our mother slowly followed us outside.

The concrete path and driveway were a patchwork of gleaming sunlit puddles and scattered torn leaves after the storm. There were fallen branches everywhere and our glistening front lawn was littered with debris. Mummy shook her head in dismay and tut-tutted at the clean-up required, then she stood by while April unlocked her car and the girls opened the back doors of her old red Volvo. There were indeed two toddler seats in the back seat and unfortunately, one of them looked large enough to fit me.

April buckled Angelica into the smaller red seat while Bonnie lifted me into the big pink car seat. My thick soggy nappies were distractingly warm under my bottom and the absorbent wet towelling had grown bulkier between by legs, forcing my thighs even wider apart than normal. The fluffy mass of swishing chiffon bunched around my front, bunching my brief dress hem up over my tummy. Like April, Bonnie took my dolly from my arms and placed her beside Angie's doll lying between our toddler seats. When my cousin pressed my shoulders back, I realised the tilted car seat forced me to lie back slightly. My huge diapered crotch was prominently thrust forward as though to focus attention on my humiliating infantile swaddling.

Bonnie grinned cruelly at my sulky expression as she drew the pink webbing H-straps over my halo of curls. She inserted the metal clips into the buckles under the seat's plastic shell between my helplessly splayed ankles. The pink nylon chest strap looped and fastened around the back, and when she callously drew it tight, I momentarily gasped for breath. The restraining straps were so snug, I couldn't sit up at all! When I awkwardly reached down to unsnap the clips to loosen the restrictive harness, I found the release buttons out of reach of my searching fingers.

I realised I was trapped in the humiliating toddler seat and frowned sulkily at my captor. Bonnie grinned down maliciously at my protruding bottom lip. She easily batted my straining hands out of the way, cautioning me; "No, no, sweetie! Baby Jennie mustn't try and release her harness straps. It's not safe, little one! Anyway," she crooned mock-solicitously, as she thrust Justine in my flailing arms with a consoling smile. "They're well out of reach of your tiny hands, little girl - just like a real toddler." My only response was to clutch my dolly to my bosom and stick out my swollen pink-painted bottom lip resentfully, frowning and grumbling under my breath like a sulky pre-schooler. Bonnie laughed in derision as she dismissively patted the shiny yellow crotch of my bulging satin rumba panties.

April had already climbed behind the wheel, and after Bonnie hopped in beside her and slammed her door, we headed off to the beauty salon where the buxom, chestnut-haired teen worked part-time. Mummy stood at the kerb smiling and waving us goodbye until we turned the corner. I unsuccessfully tried to wriggle deeper into the humiliating toddler car seat as we drove away. The tilted pink booster seat perched me so high and my swollen wet crotch stuck out so much, I knew anyone glancing in the car windows would instantly see my shameful baby attire.

Sure enough; when we pulled up at a set of traffic lights, a carload of teenage girls drew alongside. One of them happened to glance my way, and my cheeks blazed with embarrassment when her eyes went wide and she burst out laughing. She pointed at my prominent bulging satin crotch and called to her friends. All three remaining heads swivelled in my direction, and one by one they broke into gales of hilarity at the comical sight I must have made. I belatedly covered my puffy groin with my dolly and cringed in shame. I turned my burning face away from their jeers and mocking laughter, only to see my sister staring at me with a puzzled smile on her beautifully made-up face. I patted my satin covered breast with my free hand and blindly felt around the tight nylon webbing straps, blissfully unaware that I was unwittingly seeking the familiar comfort of my absent pacifier. I was grateful when the traffic lights changed and the car full of hysterical girls thankfully headed in a different direction. In a few minutes we arrived at the local mall, and April drove us around the huge carpark until she fortunately found a vacant parking slot only a few doors away from 'The Beauty Spot.'

Bonnie's golden eyes glowed with sadistic pleasure as she unbuckled me from the carseat and helped me awkwardly clamber out of the car. She straightened my dress hem and rearranged my rustling petties with fussy maternal attention. April walked around leading Angelica by the hand. I noticed with fresh shame that my baby sister's shimmering yellow dress was just long enough to cover her shiny rumba panties, unlike my humiliating too-short baby frock. Every time Angie moved her wide-flared skirts and petties danced distractingly, giving me tantalising glimpses of the frothy white lace frills underneath. I knew my matching yellow toddler outfit looked equally attractive and feminine, and I hoped we wouldn't garner too much attention in the sparsely-populated parking lot. My thick wet nappies forced my little thighs wide apart, exaggerating my already toddler-like waddle. They drooped so heavily, I suspected my satin-clad crotch must be sagging halfway to my knees.

There were only a few people wandering around the mall after the violent storm. I was pleased that none of them seemed to do anything other than glance disinterestedly in our direction. I numbly clutched my dolly to my bosom and offered no resistance when Bonnie led me shuffling into the salon, my soggy nappy flopping wetly between my thighs. Bonnie's white platform boot heels were so high, I had to take two hurried waddling steps to every one of hers, making me look even more toddler-like - if that was possible.

April and Angie followed in our wake, and fortunately there were only a few patrons occupying the many scattered chairs this afternoon. Several customers, some of them under noisy bowl hairdryers, glanced up from the glossy fashion magazines in their laps to stare at me and smile. I felt certain everyone was peering in my direction. There were mirrors everywhere and no matter where I looked, I caught glimpses of an attractive big baby girl in a frilly buttercup-yellow frock shyly peeping back at me.

Before we walked very far into the spacious well-lit salon, we were surrounded by a bevy of beautifully made-up girls wearing short hot-pink smocks. They fluttered around us like colourful butterflies asking myriad questions. "Hi Bonnie! Love those thigh-high boots! But who's this pretty little girl in petticoats?"
"Wow! Great boots, Bonnie! Omigod! Look at the beautiful big baby girl!"
"Hello girls, don't you look gorgeous! Is that Shirley Temple I see with you?"
"Oh look! Twin Shirley Temples, with matching baby dolls! Isn't that darling?"
"What beautiful little girls! Are they yours, April? They can't be!"

The sweet high-pitched voices rolled over me in a crushing wave of humiliation. I ineffectually drew back against Bonnie's vise-like grip. My cheeks blazed with embarrassment as I was dragged deeper inside this strange-smelling den of femininity. Then I noticed - most of the pink-uniformed staff and the customers in their brightly coloured plastic capes seemed to be smiling welcomingly at me and nodding encouragingly. My overwhelming feelings of shame were mollified by the many generous compliments tossed in my - our direction.

"Hello, girls! I want you to meet my darling little nieces," Bonnie grandly announced as our party drew to a halt, then she thrust me forward and turned to her taller sister. April gently prodded Angelica in the back until my beautiful little sister was standing beside me in her matching yellow outfit, a happy smile stretching her pretty painted lips wide. "This is Baby Jennie, and you all know Angelica." The gathered girls tittered their greetings and reached out to touch our bobbing petticoats or pat our curly blonde hairstyles. I couldn't prevent the shy smile tentatively tugging at the corners of my puffy pink mouth.

An older, immaculately made-up woman clapped her hands sharply. The bustling pink-smocked attendants parted before her like the Red Sea. "What's this, Bonnie? Hello, April. I thought you were bringing in your naughty nephew to meet us?" The steely-haired matron demanded, regally stepping through the gaggle of giggling girls to examine Angelica and me.
"I did, Mrs Worth, I did!" Bonnie replied with a smug grin, pushing me forward. "This is my naughty little teenage nephew, Baby Jennie!"

The matronly woman in the tailored hot-pink Chanel suit and matching four-inch strappy pink sandals smiled broadly. She stepped closer to me, bending forward till her perfectly-painted face was inches from my own. Gripping my chin, she ruthlessly twisted my blushing red face from side to side to better inspect my feminised features. I whimpered like a frightened puppy and pouted resentfully at her rough handling, which only made her steely grey eyes focus on my swollen pink-painted lips.

Mrs Worth's own heavily-outlined, glossy pink lips parted in an appreciative smile. She relaxed her vicious grasp on my chin and stood erect to pass judgement. "Hmm. Fabulous mouth, and I love the 'Shirley Temple' look! Permanent lash extensions… Fantastic job on her eyebrows too, Bonnie. Such beautifully-shaped high arches. And those wonderfully feminine, puffy pink lips? Are they natural, or plumped?"
"Plumped, Ma'am."
"Perfect! She looks absolutely beautiful! A real baby doll! And she smells almost as pretty as she looks. You've done a flawless job on her, Bonnie."
"Thank you, Mrs Worth," replied Bonnie with an thrilled smile, her huge golden eyes lighting up with pleasure. In spite of my humiliating circumstances, I hesitantly smiled, too. It was hard not to, when all around me were complimenting her - us - me - on what a beautiful little girl I made.

While the grey-haired owner examined my perfect oval-shaped, iridescent pink nails, I heard the muttered questions of the watching women surrounding us. "Is she wearing nappies?" And "Isn't that little girl a bit old to be dressed like that?"
"She is a bed-wetter," someone cruelly confided to the whole salon. My sunny smile faltered and my cheeks flushed crimson with fresh mortification.
One clear sweet voice asked in obvious disbelief, "Is that really a boy? Impossible!"
"No way! They're both gorgeous little girls," insisted several others with misplaced confidence, making my tremulous smile appear again.

"She's way too pretty to be a boy," another young woman commented with false certainty. I unsuccessfully tried to stop beaming when several girls volubly agreed how beautiful I looked.
"Is this the same one you caught wearing your panties, Bonnie?" I heard one staff member loudly demand. There was a cumulative titter from the girls when my towering bee-hived cousin smirked and nodded in the affirmative. The smile froze on my face and my puffy pink-painted lips puckered in fright, instinctively searching for the absent rubber teat of my dum-dums.

A cheeky pink-smocked younger girl - who had to be an apprentice like Bonnie - raucously yelled, "He was trying on her cheerleader panties when she caught-"
"Sandy! Shut up!" Bonnie snapped at the boisterous blonde, glaring in annoyance and indicating Angelica with a sharp warning shake of her head. For one brief tantalising moment, I thought I was going to be spared any further humiliation - but it was not to be.
Their boss interrupted the potential squabble. "Sandra, since you already know the whole story; why don't you take Angie over to the first work station up the front, and tease up her gorgeous curls a little. Spray her with hairspray too, and then re-tie her hair ribbon in place, okay?"

The chastened teenager with the dirty-blonde hair took my delighted sister's tiny hand. Sandy led Angie dancing away towards the salon entrance clutching her baby Sophie. Aunty April followed them in her menacing knee-high black stiletto boots, her white satin blouse and silken black hair gleaming in the brilliant spotlights. The remaining pink-smocked attendants and quite a few gowned customers clustered around Mrs Worth and Bonnie, all anxious to hear the shameful tale in greater detail. When several girls demanded to hear the full story, my smug cousin laughed throatily and raised both palms to silence their high-pitched supplications.

"I thought I already told you girls?" She teased them with a provocative grin. For a few moments, she giggled gaily at their chorused pleas for her to continue, before conceding. "Alright, ladies, alright! You know my Aunt Isy, the tall attractive blonde who comes here every few weeks?" Several heads nodded while many others voiced assent. "My Aunt Isabell was visiting my mum with her two children about a month ago, and while we were cleaning up after Saturday lunch, I noticed my thirteen-year-old cousin sneaking off towards our bedrooms. I already knew he'd been trying on my sister's and my underwear in secret, so I gave him a few minute's head start…"

I felt the hot flush creep up my neck as she regaled them with the humiliating story of how she caught me wearing her sexy satin underwear. She was right; I had tried to furtively slip away unnoticed after lunch, as I knew my buxom seventeen-year-old cousin had attended the football game that morning as one of the cheer squad. The beautiful cheerleaders always looked so desirable in their tight red-and-white tops and tiny red pleated skirts, with their shiny ruffled red satin panties peeping out attractively from underneath.

There was an adjoining ‘Jack and Jill’ en-suite bathroom between Bonnie and April's bedrooms, and I knew the girls usually tossed their dirty clothes in the pink plastic hamper standing against one wall. The girls' regular panties were much sexier than Mummy's usual assortment of knickers, and I had surreptitiously tried on a few pairs of my cousins’ silky worn underwear on a couple of prior occasions. I decided to sneak into their bathroom one more time to see what treasures I could find, and I crept into the narrow pink tiled room via April's neatly appointed bedroom.

After craftily locking the door to April's bedroom behind me, I started pawing through their dirty clothes' hamper. I soon found the damp sweaty panties Bonnie had recently discarded near the top of the pile. I clutched the thick red satin knickers and held them aloft with a muted cry of delight. When I stretched open the puckered waistband and peered inside, the white cotton gusset was still dark and moist from the buxom teen's personal secretions. I moaned with unrepressed excitement as I pressed the heavy satin panties to my face. I greedily inhaled the erotic pungent scents until my senses began to swim with arousal. My peenie grew harder in my pants as I drank in the intriguing combined aromas of pee-pee and her sweet sweaty bottom, and an unidentifiable musky scent that I would later learn was Bonnie's vaginal juices.

I knew it was risky but my excitable peenie was swollen hard, demanding my attention! It almost exploded out of my white cotton undies when I urgently lowered the zipper of my faded blue jeans. I desperately kicked off my sneakers without untying the laces, and reverently placed the stretchy red panties on the grey marble vanity bench while I frantically ripped down my combined jeans and underwear. In moments I had drawn the cool damp knickers up my little legs and tugged them over my rigid tool. The high elastic waistband trapped my pulsating hot stiffie against my tummy.

The slick damp gusset felt wonderfully moist and slippery when pressed against the sensitive place between my ball sack and my poo-poo hole. I posed in front of the vanity mirror like a vain young girl and twirled around to admire the short red satin ruffles shimmering across the seat. I ran my trembling fingers over the sweetly feminine decorations, loving the look and the feel. I panted with excitement as I slid one hand over the slippery satin front of the shiny red panties, marvelling at the silky-smooth feel and the thrilling sensations emanating from my hard little peenie. Then the door to Bonnie's bedroom burst open and my cousin practically exploded into the narrow pink bathroom.

"There he was!" Bonnie theatrically announced to the gathered hairdressers, clients and beauticians hanging on her every word. She pointed an accusing pink-nailed finger at me like a cheap courtroom lawyer and every head turned my way. "My disgusting little nephew was standing in front of our bathroom mirror, wearing my red satin panties and playing with his stiffie!" The rush of blood to my face was so severe, it felt like my head might explode from embarrassment!

I felt another hot stream uncontrollably gush into my already wet nappy, the soothing familiar warmth my only comfort. I bit my swollen pink-painted bottom lip in shame, the perfumed taste of my lipstick strange in my mouth. Unwittingly I clutched my dolly tighter for reassurance and during that awful moment, I wanted - I needed my missing dummy! I ducked my head and covered my trembling chin with my hand. In the absence of my dum-dums, my right thumb unconsciously crept towards my mouth. Without thinking I surreptitiously slipped the tip between my swollen painted lips.

"Oh no!" chorused some of the listening girls in horror. "Oh you poor thing!" sympathised others.
"What a dirty little pervert!" A frowning older client commented scathingly. There were many curt nods and angry murmurs of agreement.
"What did you do?" A few girls wanted to know. I cringed afresh at the painfully vivid memory while I mindlessly sucked on my thumb for comfort.

"I screamed at him, naturally!” Bonnie retorted. “The disgusting little wanker was so shocked, he fell over backwards! I rushed into the bathroom and scooped him off the floor, then sat on the edge of the bath and tossed him face-down over my knees!"
"Did you spank him?" A gorgeous redhead demanded in breathless fascination. I could see the same question on everybody's lips.

"Of course I did!" Bonnie caustically replied. Everyone began to giggle as I ducked my head even lower and I shuffled my feet in shame. My fingers curled reflexively around my nose as I distractedly sucked harder on my wet thumb, drawing it all the way in to the last knuckle. "But that wasn't the worst of it…." she trailed off, teasing her entranced audience till they clamoured for her to continue like a troop of excited monkeys. "I had only walloped his panty-clad bottom with my hand a few times, when he burst into tears and wet himself!" There was a loud burst of spiteful laughter at this unnecessary cruel revelation. I desperately wanted the floor to open up and swallow me. "He pissed all over me while I spanked him, I tell you! All through my best cheerleader panties, all over my new white jeans… Everywhere!"

There was a universal cry of disgust for my infantile act. "Ew! Yuck! Oh how awful!"
"Oh no! What did you do?" several girls demanded. Even though I didn’t dare look up, I could feel them all staring at me in revulsion.
"I rolled the little panty-wetter off my lap, of course," Bonnie replied with a sneer of disdain, "then ripped off my drenched pants and jumped in the shower. By the time I washed myself clean and changed into fresh clothes, my perverted little cousin had returned my pee-drenched panties to the laundry hamper and grabbed most of his things, and vanished."

I had tried to blot out the humiliating memory of that afternoon, but my shame returned - magnified a hundredfold by the jeering feminine laughter around me. After I escaped Bonnie’s invidious clutches, I hurriedly pulled my jeans over my pee-damp loins, rammed my feet into my laced shoes, and scampered outside. I lingered in the kitchen long enough to wash my face, removing all traces of my tears. Then I strolled outside to where my mother was already gathering her things together.

I speedily packed and then carried Angie's packed diaper bag to the car. I buckled my baby sister into her car seat, ignoring Mummy when she muttered in confusion; "What's your hurry this afternoon, Jeremy?" When she grabbed my hips and crouched down in front of me to examine the crotch of my jeans for wet spots, I grumbled resentfully but didn't try to twist out of her grasp as I usually did. The sooner she was satisfied I hadn't wet my pants again, the faster we could be gone.

Fortunately we were on our way before Bonnie finished showering, and Aunty Cath offered to pass on our goodbyes as we drove away. When Mummy hadn't mentioned anything about me dressing up in my cousin's cheerleader panties during the ensuing weeks, I'd hoped that was the last I was going to hear about that unfortunate event - till now.

"Did you tell his mother what you caught him doing?" Mrs Worth asked my sneering blonde cousin, glaring down in obvious disgust at my bowed red face and cowed, humiliated stance. I avoided her heartless gaze as I childishly sucked my thumb like an anxious toddler.
"No I didn't, Ma'am," replied Bonnie, to my relief. But my heart skipped a beat and my tummy lurched threateningly when she continued, "I told my mother all about it, though. And I'm pretty sure she discussed his disgusting behaviour with his Mum the following week, when she returned the pee-stained old underwear he left on our bathroom floor. They're sisters; they talk all the time," she explained. I felt myself dying inside at this awful news. The contents of my stomach seemed to drop alarmingly and I almost bit my thumb in terror. Mummy knows?

The older lady clapped her hands again before briskly commanding, "Alright ladies, that's enough gossiping for the moment. Back to work please, girls." As the giggling staff and chuckling clients departed to the various work stations, Bonnie's boss turned to gaze down dispassionately at my cowering form. She was clearly addressing my cruel cousin when she announced; "We're all set up for you, my dear. Take your little… niece straight through to Crystal. She's already got everything ready down the back."

Bonnie clamped her large hands over my shoulders and propelled me forward, into the back of the salon. The grinning grey-haired matron watched my domineering cousin steer me over to an armless pink padded chair in the far corner. There was a cute twenty-something girl in a short pink smock waiting for us, with an odd-looking clear plastic gun lying on the bench by her side. Bonnie released my shoulders and stepped away from me to have a chat with her boss.

The girl named Crystal had a mass of tight blonde ringlets dancing around her attractive heart-shaped face, just like me. Her wide toothy smile was warm and inviting as she patted the vinyl-covered pink padded seat in front of her. "Here we are, little one," she crooned encouragingly, gently disengaging my wet thumb from my mouth. "Don't suck your thumb, darling," she quietly rebuked me. That was the first time I realised I had been unconsciously sucking my thumb like a big baby. "You just sit here for a minute with your dolly while we fix you up."

'Fix me up? What else could they possibly do to me?' I wondered incredulously. I hesitantly sat where the cute blonde indicated. I clutched my dolly tighter for security, staring in stunned disbelief at my wrinkled wet thumb with the ring of candy-pink lipstick around the base. Mummy knows! Because of the full petties underneath, the front of my rustling yellow dress bobbed up when I sat on my warm wet swaddling. When I realised everyone in the salon could see the bulging crotch of my shiny rumba panties, I ineffectually tried to press my slippery frock and petties down with my free hand, hoping somehow to conceal my shameful infantile underwear. Bonnie smirked at my unsuccessful attempts at demure feminine behaviour when she returned.

Crystal and Bonnie turned their backs to me while they fussed about with the strange gun thing on the bench. I didn't see my smirking cousin pour a single drop of superglue on the tiny gold butterfly clasps the pretty attendant carefully held for her. It took only a moment to load the first glue-tipped backing into the gun, and then Crystal tilted my head to one side. She asked Bonnie to hold my dangling curls out of the way while she swabbed both my earlobes. Even as the cute blonde carefully wiped my lobes front and back with the chilling alcohol swabs, I was blissfully unaware what she was about to do to me. I passively sat there while Crystal placed the tip of the gun against my right earlobe, and then she pulled the trigger to pierce my ear. I was preoccupied by the terrifying thought that my Mummy might know all about my naughty private pastime. Mummy knows!

The incredibly loud 'bang!' right next to my ear startled me more than anything else. I shrieked in alarm and bounced out of the chair in pain and shock, almost dropping Justine. A small lump of hot poop simultaneously squirted out of my slackened anus into my drenched diaper. I desperately tried to squeeze my weakened sphincter shut before I embarrassed myself any further. When the laughing blonde attendant ordered me to relax and sit back down, I gingerly lowered my saggy diapered bottom onto the pink padded seat and was distracted by the familiar squishy warmth nestled between my damp botty cheeks. Then Crystal shot a second stud earring through my other sterilised earlobe while I wasn't looking. The sound was deafening! I leapt to my feet in fresh anguish and dropped my baby, and squealed like a frightened schoolgirl again as I uncontrollably soiled my nappy.

I tried to stop the poo from sliding out of my bottom, but it was too late! I didn't even have to squat slightly to help push it out this time. I moaned in helpless resignation as the hot solid mess filled the rear of my drooping wet nappy, before sliding down into the sagging crotch between my wide-splayed thighs. It came out in a sudden irresistible rush, and the huge hot lumps of moist excrement made my drenched cloth nappies sag even more between my bowed legs. I could feel the weight of them dragging at the pins clasped over my hips as I bent to pick up Justine.

When I stood up clutching my dolly, Bonnie grabbed my shoulders and spun me around to face her. At first she was preoccupied admiring the sparkling artificial diamond stud earrings piecing my stinging earlobes. Then her button nose wrinkled in revulsion and she frowned down at my bulging yellow panty crotch in dismay. My cheeks turned crimson with shame when Crystal suddenly demanded from right behind me; "Pooh! What's that awful smell?"

I defensively pressed Justine to my bosom and cringed away from Bonnie's appraising golden-eyed glare, but my buxom cousin gripped my shoulders tightly and stared down unblinkingly into my watering blue eyes. I was so ashamed, I couldn't meet her harsh accusing gaze, and guiltily ducked my curl-covered head. "I think I know what that smell is," commented Bonnie scathingly. She placed one beautifully manicured fingernail under my bowed chin and relentlessly raised my mortified gaze to meet her bemused eyes. She loudly declared, "I think some poor helpless little baby girl has just done a great big poo-poo in her nap-naps!"

I could almost hear the click of eyeballs as every head in the salon swivelled towards my cowering form. All conversation ground to a halt and the noise level dropped with the sound of multiple hairdryers being switched off. In the sudden silence, Bonnie demanded in a resounding voice pitched loud enough for everyone to hear; "Oh Baby Jennie! Did you poo-poo your nappy, sweetheart? Did my helpless little baby girl make a nasty big mess in her nap-naps?" The curly-haired attendant behind me burst into bright peals of laughter when I submissively nodded my bowed head, my new sparkling studs flashing attractively while my narrow shoulders stooped in misery and shame.

I fearfully glanced up at the sound of hurried high-heeled footsteps approaching. Aunty April and Angie hurried over to see what was wrong, followed closely by Mrs Worth. "Oh look!" Angelica squealed in excitement, pointing at my sore glinting earlobes. "Baby Jennie has pierced ears - just like me!"
"Oh dear!" The grey-haired matron exclaimed, "Has your poor little baby girl soiled her nappy?" When Bonnie reaffirmed her suspicions, the old lady stepped behind my cringing form and pressed her cupped hand under the rear of my saggy nappy. "She's wet. Very wet! Oh yes, and dirty!" She confirmed when she detected the huge lump of hot poo-poo hanging between my splayed thighs. “What a poopy baby!”

I shuddered as she snaked her searching hand further between my bowed legs. She shoved upwards with her cupped palm and fingers, forcing the massive semi-solid turd up against the sensitive spot between my poo-poo hole and my ball sack. The soft squishy poop stuck to my delicate skin like hot sticky mud. When she firmly and repeatedly patted the pile of fresh crap between my legs, it mashed forward to coat my sensitive clittie and balls with thrilling gooey warmth.

"Not only is she dirty, this nappy is saturated! Your Baby Jennie needs to have her diaper changed right away! Did you bring a change of nappies for your little panty-pooper, Bonnie?"
"No Ma'am, we didn't," Bonnie admitted with a rueful grimace. "Baby Jennie's mummy offered to pack some fresh nappies for her before we left, but we didn't think we'd need them."
"That's a shame," replied the grimly smiling matron with a disappointed shake of her tight grey curls. "In future, always bring a packed diaper bag when you take the little ones out, my dear. You never know when helpless little babies need to be changed. I would have enjoyed changing this naughty baby's nappy in the back room today." Her gimlet eyes thankfully slid away from my cowed features to rest on my gorgeous cousin’s smiling face . "Make sure you bring Baby Jennie's change bag with you when you bring her in on Saturday morning, Bonnie." I stared at my towering cousin in confusion when she nodded in agreement.
"I certainly will, Mrs Worth! Don't you worry about that! Now we'd better take this stinky baby girl straight home and change her poopy wet nappy right away."

"Baby Jennie's a poo-poo factory!" Angelica loudly declared in the momentary quiet lull, and I blushed furiously at her thoughtless unkind comment. I tucked Justine under my left arm as Bonnie tightly gripped my small right hand in her huge left paw. My grinning cousin led me waddling slowly towards the salon entrance. At first there was only the odd quiet titter from the watching pink-smocked girls and several broad smiles from their seated clients. Sensing their amusement and approval, my sister repeated even louder, "Baby Jennie's a poo-poo factory! A poo-poo factory!"

Before we had shuffled ten feet the cruel feminine giggles began, the guffaws growing louder with my every awkward tortured step. I kept my humiliated gaze glued to the cream linoleum tiles in front of my gleaming black patent Maryjanes, my crimson face bowed and my cheeks burning. The gales of mocking laughter peaked and followed me out of the salon, the awful sound ringing in my ears all the way to Aunty April's old red Volvo. As least my nappy wasn't sagging quite so badly now, as the heavy saturated crotch was effectively glued to my body by my hot fresh excrement.

To be continued in chapter 10.
Please post any comments here.
Baby Jennie

Chapter 10. Meet the Neighbours

Bonnie lifted me into the car and pressed my bodyback into the tilted pink toddler seat. She wrinkled her nose in disgust and held her beautiful painted face as far away from my stinky crotch as possible. "Pee-yew!" she groaned. "You stink!" I was distracted as more hot poo-poos was forced up between my splayed thighs, till my thickening clittie was completely submerged in a warm sensuous sea of semi-soft scat. Even though I could smell it, I didn't think my poop stank that badly. It had kind of an over-ripe fruity odour, with a hint of damp musty earth I hardly found offensive, despite everyone's nasty comments. My chiffon petties rustled noisily as they bunched around me, my short yellow frock riding up even higher when my bossy cousin firmly pushed me back into my car seat. Bonnie ignored the tears of humiliation trickling down my flushed cheeks and drew the pink webbing straps over my bowed head. She securely fastened the buckles in place between my dangling black patent Maryjanes. "It's a good thing I used waterproof mascara on you, sweetie," was her only careless observation as she tightened the restrictive chest strap.

April scowled at me in annoyance too, as she buckled my sister into her high red plastic car seat. Angelica turned to me and frowned, then pinched her pert little nose in repugnance. “Pooh, Baby Jennie! You smell!" she complained bitterly, causing my raven-haired cousin to laugh and shake her head disparagingly.
"Yes Angelica, your baby sister is a bit stinky," April agreed with a sigh of exasperation, before she handed us our dollies. I clutched Justine to my breast with my left hand and defiantly jammed my wrinkled right thumb back in my mouth, sucking intently in my infantile search for relief. "That's why we have to hurry home straight away; so your mummy can change this poor helpless baby girl's dirty wet nappies." As soon as the two tall teenagers climbed into the front seats, they urgently wound down their windows.

"Let's get going, April," Bonnie urged her big sister, fanning the air in front of her nose with one large hand. "We need some breeze in here, to blow away the stench of our disgusting little niece; our naughty, poopy Baby Jennie!" I tried to stop crying and sucked harder on my thumb, brushing away the unwanted tears with my curled fingers as we drove home. The strong wind gusting through the open windows kept the atmosphere in the car barely tolerable, but every bump in the road and every pothole we hit seemed to make me sink ever deeper into the sensuous moist pile puddled under my crotch. My sensitive clittie rubbed against the slick poopy front of my soggy wet nappy, pressed so firmly against me by the restrictive pink webbing straps. I didn't want it to, but my easily-aroused organ grew harder with every jolt and jerk. By the time we turned into our driveway, I was fully erect and throbbing madly inside my exciting, hot messy nappy.

After we pulled up, Bonnie released me from the humiliating toddler car seat and lifted me out. I plucked out my thumb and stood beside the car clutching my dolly, wobbling uncertainly. My stiff clittie poked out the front of my yellow satin panties, and I didn’t know what to do. I couldn't stand out here all afternoon in my stinky wet nappies, but I didn't want to confront Mummy - not now that I knew that she knew that I had been secretly trying on my cousin's sexy satin panties! I wondered why she hadn't bothered mentioning my kinky fascination earlier, and felt another gut-wrenching burst of terror when I imagined for one awful moment…

What if Mummy knew about everything I'd been up to? All the pretty panties of hers I'd discretely tried on; all the times I'd privately played dress-ups in her silky slips, or secretly worn pretty frocks with some of my best girlfriends from school, or sneaked away to try on my beautiful cousins' sexy knickers? She couldn't possibly know! The thought was so frightening that my clittie thankfully started to shrink back to normal. Bonnie snatched my hand and dragged me down the front path towards our house. Her long legs and her white platform boots lengthened her stride so much, I had to dance on my tippy-toes like a little ballerina through the shallow puddles just to keep up with her rapid pace.

"Hello girls!" The hearty hail from next door startled me, and I almost tripped when Bonnie unexpectedly ground to a halt. I glanced up in horror to see my best friend Michael's mum, waving to us from next door. She was wearing tan gardening gloves and an old grey smock top over a pair of ragged, faded blue jeans, and as she approached the low hedge separating our properties, she removed her gloves and frowned at us in mild confusion.
"Hello Mrs Smith," replied April from behind me, and the other girls courteously murmured their greetings.

I remained mute and kept my blushing pink cheeks shyly downcast when I realised that my younger friend Michael and David, his brawny fifteen-year-old brother, were busily working behind their mother. They were picking up the leaf litter scattered across their normally well-manicured front lawn, but when they noticed their mother approaching our little group, both boys left their tasks and wandered over to see what was happening.

Ruth Smith was a plump buxom woman in her late forties, whose short mousy-brown hair flew in untidy wisps around her kindly round face. Her deep-set blue eyes twinkled merrily as she effusively greeted my cousins. "Hello there, April, and hi Bonnie! Good to see you! It's been ages since we've seen you girls. Hello Angie! Don't you look gorgeous today, with those lovely curls? But who is this pretty little Princess?" Mrs Smith was clearly addressing me when she sweetly inquired, "What's your name, darling?"
I hesitated to reply but a painful warning squeeze of Bonnie's fist around my tiny hand made me stutter in embarrassment. "M-my name is B-b-baby Jennie," I reluctantly confessed in my nervous high-pitched squeak. I tried to ignore the amused feminine chuckles from behind me as I made my humiliating admission.

"Is she your little sister, Bonnie? She's so beautiful! I don't recognise her, although she looks so much like Angelica, they could be sisters - almost twin sisters!" Ruth Smith cleverly observed. Her bright blue eyes dropped to my sagging panty crotch, and the crow's feet around her eyes deepened. " But - but is she wearing a nappy under that gorgeous yellow party frock?"
"She is!" snickered Bonnie in spiteful delight, pointedly glancing down at my drooping satin panties. My full nappy was so saturated, I felt sure it was dragging my shiny yellow rumba panties halfway to the ground. "Baby Jennie is a bed-wetter and a panty-pooper, so she has to wear nappies like her sister, Angelica."
"Her sister? But Angelica doesn't have a-" Mrs Smith's pleasant smile froze momentarily, her searching gaze bearing down on my pretty painted face like a blazing spotlight. "Jeremy? Jeremy sweetie? That's not you, is it?"

I knew my cheeks were crimson with shame and my neck flushed with warmth, but my ears started ringing with embarrassment. My humiliation knew no bounds when April stepped forward and artlessly replied for me, "Yes, Mrs Smith. This is Jeremy. But seeing as he likes wetting and messing his panties like his baby sister, his mummy has decided to dress him more appropriately to the way he's been acting." The tall raven-haired beauty turned her withering gaze on me. "So for the last week or so, Jeremy has been wearing nappies and baby panties and sweet little toddler frocks that better suit his immature nature. And she prefers to be known as Baby Jennie these days."

Handsome David was the first to burst out laughing, and even my friend Michael giggled maniacally when his mother began to uncontrollably chuckle. I wanted the earth to open up and swallow me when April crushingly continued, "I'm sorry, Mrs Smith. We'd love to stop and chat, but this wet little girl has recently pooped her nappies! We need to take our dirty Baby Jennie inside to her mummy to be changed right away! Come along, girls." Mrs Smith was laughing too hard to form a coherent reply, and simply waggled her fingers at me in childish farewell when the other girls bade her goodbye. Bonnie urged me on my way with a crisp hard smack on my drooping panty bottom, and the boys' raucous mocking laughter and Mrs. Smith's cackles followed us all the way up the front path.

As soon as they led us through the front door, our cousins called to our mother to come and inspect me. Mummy came traipsing down the stairs in her oldest faded blue jeans, wearing a loose oversized, hot-pink t-shirt and some heavy camel-coloured work boots. She had a huge smile plastered across her face. "Hello girls! Oh Baby Jennie! Look at those beautiful earrings!" she exclaimed in delight, striding over to me. While April told her about us meeting the neighbours, I guiltily ducked my face and felt my cheeks turn pink again with fresh shame.

But Mummy simply grabbed me by one shoulder and raised my bowed chin with her other hand, and forcibly tilted my head back. She brushed my bouncing curls aside to examine the gleaming studs piercing my tender earlobes, ignoring the tears of humiliation welling in my big blue eyes. "Thank you, April and Bonnie! They look gorgeous on her!" Mummy commented happily, making me think that maybe she knew all about Bonnie's plan to pierce my ears. "They're very pretty, but… I thought we agreed on plain gold studs for Baby Jennie?" She pulled a nasty face as she sniffed the rank odour emanating from my drooping panty crotch.

"We did, we did!" replied my perfectly-made-up cousin, before Mummy could comment on the putrid smell wafting up from my rumba panties. But I was preoccupied by the realisation that she had known! Mummy knew my cousins were taking me to the beauty salon to have my ears pierced! Maybe - maybe she really wanted me to be a girl? My heart fluttered at the thrilling - yet terrifying - prospect. "But my boss offered to give Baby Jennie a pair of faux-diamonds in 18-carat studs, like, for free - if we agreed to bring her to the salon on Saturday morning. You know, to like, 'help out' for a while," she explained glibly, as she grinned disarmingly at my mother.

"And obviously you agreed," Mummy archly replied, but her small smile indicated she didn't really mind. But that smile turned to a frown as she gazed down questioningly at my sagging satin crotch. "My, my, Baby Jennie! Pooh! Is that your dirty nappy I can smell, little girl?" I assumed her question was rhetorical when she reached down and patted the soggy front of my droopy diaper to assess my condition. I didn't bother answering as Bonnie continued to explain my new earrings.

"I didn't think you'd mind, Aunty Isy? These studs cost like, about four times as much as the plain 14-carat studs, you know? And you don't have to worry about Baby Jennie losing them - at least not for like, six months or so, at least." Her grin almost split her painted face in two. "I thought you'd be pleased, you know?"
"I am, darling, I am," Mummy reassured her, smiling contentedly and then reaching up to affectionately pat Bonnie's shoulder. "But I better take this dirty baby girl upstairs to the Nursery and change her out of this stinky wet nappy straight away. Unless you girls want to help?"

The towering Amazons laughed in derision at Mummy's silly question. After bidding us goodbye and air-kissing everyone's cheek, they collected their leather coats and bags from the hall stand and strode back into the late afternoon sunshine. Mummy gazed down at me with mild contempt and after smacking the back of my saggy wet nappy and sniffing in disgust, she ordered, "Let's take you upstairs for a change right way, Baby Jennie. Pooh! Come on, my stinky baby girl." She took my hand and led me waddling slowly upstairs. I was so frightened of what she might find in my nappies, my shrinking clittie thankfully shrivelled into insignificance, despite the thick hot waste plastered erotically around my genitals.

I miserably toddled into the Nursery and Mummy began by removing my slithering yellow satin frock. Accustomed to being undressed like a useless toddler, I made no move to help her. I passively let my mother remove every feminine article down to my shimmering yellow panties and sagging smelly nappies. She lifted me up onto the change table and lay me back to remove my black patent Maryjanes, rustling satin rumba panties and frilly socks. I clutched Baby Justine to my bosom and lay there limp and unresisting as she tugged down my tight yellow plastic panties, carefully threading them down my legs and over my obediently pointed feet, before grimacing in distaste and tossing them in the nappy bucket. I noticed there were fresh poop stains on the yellow baby panties, adding to the old tell-tale orange marks around the crotch and leg bands. She took her time unfastening the big pink pins and placing them in the soap jar on the shelf above the change table.

As Mummy peeled away the drenched front of my dirty nappy, she commented testily, "This nappy is saturated, little girl! Tsk-tsk! How long is it since your Aunties changed you? Oh my gosh, Baby Jennie! Look at all that poo-poo! Did my stinky-winky baby girl need to make a great big poopie? Yes she did! You certainly have made a mess of this nappy," she complained, but she didn't really sound cranky. Nor did she seem to expect me to reply. She blathered away like she was talking to a toddler incapable of understanding or responding to her questions. I was terrified my excitable clittie might still be slightly swollen under the pleasantly warm pile of poo, but Mummy's impassive face didn't change when she scraped away most of the sticky mess from my genitals with the slightly cleaner patches of my soggy yellowed nappy front.

"Open those legs wider, darling. Good girl," she sang. "Now lift your knees up for Mummy…. That's it, sweetie. Ooo, so much yucky poo-poo stuck to your poor little bot-bot! Are you my dirty little baby girl? Yes you are!" She left me to rinse out the heavy diaper in the en-suite bathroom, and several minutes later she returned and dumped the stinky wrung-out pieces of terrycloth in the nappy bucket beside the change table, then disappeared again to wash her hands. "Here baby, let Mummy take your dolly," she crooned when she returned, taking my baby from my arms and carefully laying Justine in my open crib.

When Mummy lowered me to my feet in the cool empty bathtub I started to worry, but my apprehension lessened when I watched her turn on the hot tap, as well. She thankfully tested the gushing stream on her hand first before aiming the shower head between my obligingly spread legs. When I looked down at my feminine candy-pink toenails, they practically screamed at me; the words 'Girl - girl - girl!' echoing loudly in my head. Mummy ordered me to stand in the bath with my little feet widely spaced, while she gently hosed away most of the mess front and back, and then she made me kneel in the tub facing away from her and spread my brown-stained botty cheeks with my little hands.

I blushed pinkly as I assumed the same humiliating exposed position my mean Aunty Cath had forced me to take, but this time the steady stream from the hand-held shower head was delightfully warm and soothing on my delicate wrinkled rosebud. Mummy complimented me on my pretty pink fingernails again while she used a warm soapy washer to scrub between my compliantly spread cheeks, and then she quietly ordered me to let go and roll over. She hosed the stinky brown water down the plughole while I obeyed, and I meekly lay back as the warm spray was turned on my filthy poop-stained genitals. It took only a few seconds to scour away the remaining brown smears from my clittie and ball sack with the soapy washer. I concentrated on trying to control my undisciplined reaction to the pulsating warm stream caressing my easily-aroused organ like hundreds of massaging fingers.

I was grateful when she turned off the stimulating flow before my excitement became too noticeable, then Mummy lifted me from the tub and gently towelled me dry. She escorted me toddling pink and naked into the Nursery and whisked me into the air. I found myself lying back on the pink padded change table where a pair of fresh fluffy nappies were laid out, ready and waiting for me. "Good girl, Angelica!" Mummy praised my sister, who stood beside the change table beaming in appreciation. "Thank you for setting up the clean nappies on the change table for your sister Baby Jennie. What a good little helper you are for Mummy!" she generously complimented Angie. Mummy carelessly rubbed some pink lotion between my botty cheeks and over my excitable genitals.

She frowned at me in warning when my over-reactive pee-pee began to thicken again, no matter how desperately I willed it to stop. She disdainfully sprinkled powder over my crotch without bothering to rub it in. I felt grateful that she pulled the comfy soft nappy front over my genitals before my over-sensitive clittie grew too swollen. Her face was impassive as she pinned one side first, then she yanked the other flap over my tummy and tightly double-pinned it. She released the first pin and then tugged that flap more snugly over my stomach, before likewise pinning it in place with two of the big pink-capped nappy pins.

I let my right hand rest against my cheek to partially shield my face, my iridescent pink fingernails flashing brightly as they caught the light. I tried to surreptitiously examine her olive-green eyes while Mummy diapered me, trying to detect a change in the way she viewed me. She must know about Bonnie catching me wearing her satin cheerleader panties. Aunty Cath must have told her. Did Mummy know? How much did she know? These questions tumbled through my mind and in my confusion, my thumb unintentionally slipped between my parted pink lips and I anxiously began to gnaw at my painted pink nail. The taste of nail polish suddenly reminded me of Justine, the beautiful babysitter from the church Nursery. Without thinking, I reflexively sucked the satisfying digit in deeper, until the ball of my thumb pressed against the soft palate of the roof of my mouth.

"Ballerina toesies," Mummy crooned to me in encouragement. I raised my feet and obediently pointed my pretty pink toes for the fresh baby panties. I lowered my legs and raised my bottom without being asked, and Mummy tugged a pair of my crackling frosty-pink plastic pilchers over my infantile swaddling. "Good girl. Botty down baby," she murmured unnecessarily. When my padded rear flopped onto the table, she swatted my thighs apart and tucked the tight elastic leg bands safely up under the crotch of my bulky nappy. I didn't realise these fresh pink panties also bore the unsightly orange stains around the crotch and white elastic leg bands, further indication of my infantile lack of bowel control.

"Don't suck your thumb baby," Mummy softly chided me when she noticed what I was doing. She frowned mildly in disapproval, plucking the offending digit from my lips before I even realised it was there. She reached up to the shelf above the change table and produced my big pink dummy on the plastic chain, and lavishly licked the amber rubber teat and the inside of the guard with her agile pink tongue. "Here darling, you can suck your dum-dums instead." Mummy popped the dripping pacifier into my open mouth and I gratefully drew on the soft wet nipple, unconsciously making those loud suckling noises so familiar to all nursing mothers. She smiled down affectionately at me and crooned lovingly, "Good girl! That's my precious Baby Jennie!" Despite my intense scrutiny, I couldn't detect any change in her attitude. I was still her baby - her sweet Baby Jennie.

Mummy dressed me in the same white onesie I'd been wearing before my cousins dolled me up after my afternoon nap, then she buckled me into my pink shortalls. She clipped the dangling pink plastic dummy chain to the high bib front, to make sure I wouldn't lose my soother. The same white cotton socks with the yellow lace frills were slipped back on my feet, and then she tied my pink sneakers in place for me. After she lifted me down, I stood there sucking my dum-dums and wobbling like an unsteady infant, watching and waiting patiently while Mummy swiftly undressed Angelica. She changed her wet disposable diaper too, and then dressed my sister in a white onesie, pink sneakers and her pink shortalls, the same as me.

"Come on girls," she urged us, as she shepherded us toddling slowly downstairs. "You can come outside and help Mummy pick up the leaves and fallen branches in the front yard." We paused by the front door and Mummy thrust a huge green plastic garbage bag into my hands, then gave one to Angie. My sister eagerly darted outside and I slowly waddled along behind her, unwilling to face our neighbours again so soon. I kept my humiliated gaze downcast and anxiously sucked on my dum-dums as I reluctantly shuffled across the front porch. I stepped down onto the soggy lawn, stooping to pick up the slimy wet leaves and hundreds of tiny branches, awkwardly stuffing them into the sticky plastic sack I sulkily dragged around with me.

When Michael called out a greeting to Angie, she squealed happily and immediately trotted over to the hedge for a chat, easily distracted from her duties. "Hi Baby Jennie," he weakly greeted me, brushing an errant lock of dark brown hair away from his wide blue eyes, but his tone sounded much more subdued.
The reason for this became obvious when there came a nasty snicker from behind his back. "Baby Jennie?" A louder, deeper voice demanded mockingly, "You mean Baby Jeremy, don't you?" David cruelly insisted, "Although dressed like that, I can see why Baby Jennie is a more suitable name for him - I mean, for her. What a friggin' sissy!" His disgust was clearly evident, and I didn't have to glance up to see the accompanying sneer curling his sensuous full top lip. I knew it had to be there, just like always.

Even though he was less than two years older than me, I always preferred to play with Michael, his much younger brother. Handsome David was always a little too sure of himself - a little too cocky and headstrong, and he liked to lead weaker-willed others - like me - astray. He had matured early, too, and the old black t-shirt he was wearing today was too tight, stretched to breaking point across his broad manly chest. His intense blue eyes reminded me of Paul Newman's in his heyday, and they always seemed to be roaming restlessly when he stopped talking and listened - which was rarely. He owned a full set of gym weights, and incessantly boasted about how often he used them. He was wearing his oldest faded and patched blue jeans, and they were so tight, his bulging lunchbox seemed prominently displayed for public inspection.

"Now, now, boys!" Mrs Smith absent-mindedly chided her sons. "Leave the girls alone and get on with your work." She ignored her own advice. After a searching glance at the obviously padded crotch of my humiliating hot-pink toddler shortalls - and the pink dummy clamped in my mouth - she warmly greeted my mother, removing her work gloves as she approached the hedge. "Hello, Isabell! I understand you have a new little girl in nappies staying with you?" Her inquisitive tone was coy and wondering, and her crinkled blue eyes brightened at the prospect of potential gossip.

"Yes Ruth," my mother replied, likewise approaching the hedge. "I believe you've already met my Baby Jennie?"
"Yes I have," she responded with a bright smile, "and what a beautiful little toddler girl she makes! But tell me, why did you decide to…" The adults turned towards the sidewalk and walked away from us, so I couldn't follow the rest of their conversation. What I did hear was David's hoarse accusing whisper from nearby.

"You knew!" Despite not wanting to, I fearfully glanced up. "You knew that little pants-pissing fairy has been wearing diapers and dresses." Across the hedge the tall blond teenager was pointing a condemning finger at Michael, who looked with mounting horror from me to his sneering big brother and back again. "You've been going over to their place for days now, and you didn't tell us…" For one brief moment I was proud of my friend for keeping my terrible secret, before my own scorched pride came crashing around me in a blistering blaze of scornful masculine laughter.

I anxiously sucked on my pacifier as I desperately sought Mummy, my eyes darting around the yard. She was standing on the footpath out the front, laughing brightly and chatting animatedly with our neighbour, and ignoring me completely. When I turned back to look at Michael, he appeared embarrassed and ashamed. He looked as though he wished he'd never met me. He dismally thrust his hands into his jeans' pockets, and his narrow shoulders sagged in defeat under his big brother's mocking taunts. I wanted to reach out to him, to apologise; to comfort him in some way… But after a mortified darting glance at me, Michael turned away and shuffled off to dispiritedly gather more debris.

My cheeks were burning with shame as I too, bent to my task, blindly picking up the slimy leaves because of the hot tears filling my eyes. "Hey Nancy-boy! Love the pretty pink shortalls! I always knew you were a sissy pants-wetter, but a baby? And you have a pink dummy? That is so gay!" To a tanned, butch, muscle-bound hunk like David, that was the worst insult he could offer. I felt powerless in the face of his jeering laughter. Instead my battered pride took yet another beating when my little sister piped up in my defence.

"Leave Baby Jennie alone! You leave my baby sister alone, you meanie!" Angelica's pretty face was scrunched up and her bottom lip thrust out aggressively, her normally pale features red with anger. My sassy sister boldly stepped in front of me and spread her little arms wide, as though to shield me from David's nasty slurs. Her high-pitched squeals fortunately attracted the attention of the grown-ups, who both turned towards us and began approaching from their own sides of the hedge.

"Hey, relax, Angie baby!" David reassured Angelica with a dismissive wave of his calloused hand, snickering in heartless amusement. After glancing at our parents intently striding towards us, his sneer disappeared, instantly replaced by a cunning friendly smile. "I just didn't realise your baby sister still wore nappies, too! Why, you girls might need a babysitter some day, now that there are two little toddlers to look after?" His last off-hand remark was deliberately pitched loud enough for our approaching Mummy to hear, and I was aghast when she smiled grimly and nodded in agreement.

"Yes, David. In fact, my little ones will need a babysitter this Wednesday afternoon," Mummy mentioned. "Why? Are you free to look after them then?" One of the problems I had with David was that everyone always assumed the handsome, athletic boy was as wholesome and clean-cut as he looked. It didn't help that his startling bright blue eyes always appeared clear and trustworthy, and when he smiled, he looked like a fair-haired, teenage Brad Pitt.

"I dunno, Mrs R. I could always check my schedule, if you like?" David's reply sounded careless and lazy, as if he didn't really mind one way or the other. But then he unleashed his megawatt smile on my mother, who instantly smiled in return, succumbing as usual to his easy charm. My heart pounded against my ribs in fear as I imagined being under the thumb of this heartless youth, and I bit on my dummy teat in terror. I waddled away from them and concentrated on picking up handfuls of dripping leaves and twigs. I shoved them into the disgusting plastic bag sticking wetly to my bare legs. My pink sneakers were soaked already from the damp grass, and I could feel my pretty socks growing cold and wet, too. There was a sudden burst of almost-scalding heat around my sensitive clittie, and my nappy began to warm delightfully between my legs, the soothing wetness slowly seeping around to my botty cheeks.

"Hey Baby Jennie?" I glanced up when Michael quietly called my name, then checked that his horrid big brother and our mothers were still busy chatting. I think the wee-wee was still trickling out of my clittie while I shuffled closer to the hedge, but I was never sure anymore, these days.
"I'm thowwy I got you into twouble," I apologised around my dum-dums before he could continue. He shrugged dismissively and thankfully ignored my girlish infantile lisp.

"Don't worry about it. David always finds an excuse to give me a hard time." Michael brushed off his brother's teasing like water off a duck's back. "He doesn't need a reason. Anyway, I just wanted to say…" He hesitated and glanced over at his brother and our parents, hesitant to continue - then he turned back to me and blurted in a rush; "I think you looked really beautiful today, in that yellow dress." His cheeks turned rosy with embarrassment as he shyly complimented me, and then he spun around and swiftly trotted back to the cardboard box full of leaves and rubbish he'd already collected.

That was the first time a boy ever told me I was beautiful! Although I was secretly thrilled by the lovely compliment, I didn't know how to react. I sucked harder on my dum-dums in confusion and felt my own cheeks turn pink with pleasure. I found myself staring at my sweet young friend's back - until I caught a glimpse of David approaching from the corner of my eye. I hurriedly bent to my task and wetly waddled away towards the high paling fence bordering the other side of our property. Behind me I heard David's hoarsely whispered threat; "Just you wait, you sissy pants-wetter! You little fairy, I'm going to…" I scuttled out of earshot before he could complete his malevolent diatribe, my knees trembling in fear. Thankfully I heard his mother yell at him to stop wasting time and get back to work, but I didn't glance up when he shuffled away.

Our neighbours had disappeared inside and we were just finishing cleaning up when Daddy pulled into the driveway in his silver Ford. Angelica squealed in delight and ran to the car, and threw herself into Daddy's arms as soon as he alighted. "My goodness, Angelica! Look at that curly hair, and those pretty nails! Are you wearing make-up, too? You look beautiful, darling!" He swept her up in his big strong arms and smothered her face with dozens of tiny kisses, and then gently put my giggling sister down. I slowly waddled over and shyly greeted him too, unsure how he would react to my feminised appearance. His bushy black eyebrows crawled up his tanned forehead like two hairy caterpillars, and his deep blue eyes widened in astonishment.

My stride faltered when he frowned at me in momentary confusion, and he must have read the anxiety on my face. I nervously sucked my dum-dums until he asked in a bemused tone; "Baby Jennie? Is that you, sweetheart? My heavens! Look at you!" For a moment I froze and trembled with uncertainty, but he dropped to one knee and opened his arms wide in invitation. "Come here, Baby Jennie. Come to Daddy." I stumbled into his muscular arms and he wrapped them around me, hugging me reassuringly and crisply patting my heavily diapered bottom. I wondered if he could tell I was wet? He gently kissed my cheek and cuddled me warmly, and I thrilled at his loving acceptance. He whispered tenderly in my ear, "You look so beautiful, baby girl! I hardly recognised you." I felt so happy, I thought my heart might burst with joy! Daddy loved me as a pretty little girl! He released me and stood up to meet my mother, whose greeting was much cooler. Her demeanour wasn't improved when he pecked her on the cheek and said by way of greeting, "Hello honey. I have to drive to Canberra tomorrow morning, and sort out a contract problem. It might take a few days."

My mother frowned unhappily and groaned testily, "Not again, Brett? That's the second time this quarter!"
"I know, Isabell, I know," he replied disconsolately. "But there's nothing I can do…." He shrugged his broad shoulders resignedly and headed for the front door. Mummy took off after him with quick impatient strides, indicating we follow her inside with an imperious wave of her hand. "Why are the girls wearing make-up?" I heard Daddy ask Mummy, "And who did their nails?"
"April and Bonnie came over to babysit today while I went to see the psychologist, and the girls offered to give our toddlers a make-over while I was gone."
"Oh yes? So what did the shrink have to say?" Daddy asked, as he shrugged off his jacket and strode up the stairs two at a time.

Mummy turned to glance at us first, and stopped us at the door to remove our sneakers. "Girls, leave those bags of rubbish outside the front door, and take your wet shoes and socks off here and then dump them in the laundry. Angelica, make sure you close the front door behind you, and after you drop your things in the laundry, take your baby sister out to the sunroom, please honey?" My sister eagerly chirped assent and while we shuffled barefoot down the hall towards the kitchen carrying our soggy socks and shoes, Mummy followed Daddy upstairs to their bedroom. I pouted resentfully around my dum-dums at being left in the charge of my three-year-old baby sister, but there was no use complaining. I faintly heard Mummy close their bedroom door behind her, and I fervently hoped our parents wouldn't start fighting again. It always freaked Angelica out whenever they started screaming at each other.

My sister chattered away as if nothing unusual was happening, and I couldn't hear any yelling from upstairs. In the sunroom I sucked absent-mindedly on my mouth-filling pacifier and played with my dolly. I compliantly pretended to change her nappy under Angelica's bossy guidance, all while listening carefully for any disturbing noises from upstairs. I obeyed my sister's silly instructions without thinking, concentrating on the muted voices I could barely hear coming from above. When Mummy returned downstairs she still looked cranky, but when she caught sight of me, her stride faltered. She leaned inside the doorway to the sunroom and smiled down at us as she sweetly inquired, "What are you doing, Baby Jennie?" Her question broke my reverie, and I glanced down at myself in confusion. Angelica had unfastened one side of my pink shortalls and let the bib front droop down, and I was pressing my dolly Justine's face to my nipple through my stretchy white onesie.

My cheeks blazed with embarrassment and I sucked harder on my dum-dums when Angelica responded for me. "Baby Jennie is being the mummy, and she's feeding her baby Justine from her boosies," my sister enthusiastically explained, and Mummy's grin grew broader.
"Well, I think all my baby girls must be hungry, so I'll go and check on dinner. Can you clip Baby Jennie's shortalls back together again, Angelica, and bring the baby out to the kitchen?" My sister nodded obediently and shuffled over to where I sat on the floor, my cheeks scarlet with humiliation. Angie competently reattached the dangling pink strap to the high bib front, while Mummy smiled contentedly and nodded in approval.
"Good girl, Angelica! Such a good helper for Mummy today!"
"Come on, Baby Jennie," my sister urged, grabbing my hands and clumsily pulling me to my feet. "It's dinner time, baby!" My beaming little sister abandoned her dolly and trotted after Mummy towards the kitchen, and I heard her eagerly asking our mother if there was anything she wanted her to do.

Dinner was a rather subdued affair, and the sombre mood even affected Angelica. She started off blabbering brightly as usual, but Mummy's grim demeanour and Daddy's monosyllabic responses soon dampened her enthusiasm. She eventually gave up talking and stared resentfully at me from her booster seat as if it were all my fault, pouting her tiny cupid's bow of a mouth and glaring accusingly at me with her big blue eyes. I silently sat there in my highchair, listlessly opening my mouth whenever Mummy's hand approached holding the big pink plastic spoon, loaded with tasteless bland toddler food from a jar. I resented the fact that the rest of the family were eating grilled lamb cutlets with delicious baked vegetables, but with Mummy's current mood, I didn't dare complain. Everybody else's food smelled fabulous, and my mouth watered until a stream of drool accidentally dribbled down my chin. Mummy used my bib to brusquely wipe my face clean, clucking in irritation at my uncontrollable baby ways while my cheeks flushed pink with shame.

When Mummy undressed me that evening to put me in the bath, my nappy was saturated again. I didn't remember peeing more than once, but the drenched layers of terrycloth that Mummy peeled away from my crotch were dripping with warm urine. "Gosh, Baby Jennie!" she complained, "These nappies are soaked again! Mummy might have to start putting a soaker pad in your nappies as well, to prevent any accidents on the furniture." I didn't know what she meant, and I was so drained by the events of the day that I didn't bother responding. Mummy undressed Angelica next, and we shuffled naked into the Nursery bathroom together to find the tub already half-full of steaming water.

Mummy slipped a frilly pink plastic shower cap over my bobbing blonde curls, and did the same for Angelica. I had hoped for a moment alone with our mother, and was disappointed when she lowered Angelica and me into the bath together. I wanted to ask Mummy how she felt about Bonnie catching me wearing her cheerleader panties, but I really didn't know how to start such an embarrassing conversation. But when she plopped my sister in the bath beside me, I knew there was no chance of asking Mummy tonight, and I breathed an audible sigh of relief. I suddenly realised I was wetting again under the water, and I hoped the others didn't notice when my bladder uncontrollably voided in the lovely hot bath.

Fortunately Mummy was preoccupied removing Angelica's make-up with some gooey white cream, and didn't spot the delightful golden stream gushing freely from between my legs. When she turned to me and smeared my face with the cold cream too, I shuddered in distaste and tried to back away. "Stay still, little girl! Mummy just has to remove your make-up." When I clamped my eyes tightly shut and whimpered at her rough scrubbing, she soothingly reassured me.

"It's alright, sweetheart! I know you love looking pretty and wearing make-up like a big girl, but all girls have to take their make-up off before they go to bed. That's the rule, Baby Jennie." She frowned when the pink stain on my swollen lips refused to budge, no matter how much cream she used or how firmly she scrubbed with the soapy washer. I whimpered in pain and eventually pulled away from her ruthless scouring, and she frowned uncertainly at me. "Those pink lips don't want to seem to come off! Oh well," she shrugged dismissively. "They look very pretty anyway, baby girl. Don't worry, I'll ask Bonnie tomorrow how to clean them off," she reassured me, laughing when I pouted sulkily and resentfully thrust out my puffy pink bottom lip.

Mummy carried Angie into the Nursery while Daddy dried me off, and by the time he whisked me into the air and plonked me on the change table, my sister was already diapered and dressed in her 'Little Mermaid' pyjamas. Mummy finished tucking her into bed, and then diffidently brushed Daddy aside to diaper me for the night. He grinned sheepishly at me lying pink and naked on the change table on my thick fluffy nappies, and then he shuffled out of the Nursery. Meanwhile Mummy plopped my dripping wet dummy teat between my swollen pink lips, cooing, "Here's your dum-dums, Baby Jennie." I automatically sucked on the mouth-filling amber nipple, easily distracted like any toddler while Mummy carefully powdered my loins and pinned my comfy nappies tightly around me. "Ballerina toesies," she crooned, before she slipped a clean pair of plain pink baby panties over my daintily pointed toes and up my legs.

A pink cotton onesie was slipped over my head, and Mummy sat me up to feed my limp hands through the short sleeves and pull it down over my torso. She lifted me down and fastened the crotch pieces together, before whisking me into the air again and laying me on my back in my cot. After locking the crib rail, our mother read us another chapter from the book about the bunnies. I rolled onto my side and stuffed my soft pink teddy between my helplessly splayed thighs, wriggling about until my legs were comfortable. I cuddled Justine and slurped on my dummy, and wondered how much Mummy really knew about my perverted private pastimes - but I felt sure this wasn't the right time to ask. I sleepily lay there wetting my nappy and relishing the familiar comforting warmth, one hand innocently cupped over the bulging crotch of my crackling baby panties, before the gentle rise and fall of Mummy's soothing voice lulled me into dreamland.

I awoke to hear my sister loudly crying, and when I dazedly gazed through the pink bars with sleep-rimmed eyes, Mummy was already sitting on the edge of Angie's bed trying to comfort her distressed daughter. When Daddy stuck his head in the Nursery doorway to sleepily ask what was wrong, Mummy tersely replied, "It's a toothache. I'll have to take Angelica to the dentist this morning." Daddy offered to ring and make the appointment, while Mummy picked Angie up and cuddled her closely. "I'll take you downstairs and give you some Panadol, sweetie," Mummy crooned sympathetically, before carrying my sister out and heading downstairs.

After rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I rolled on my back and reached down to feel the warmth of my thick wet nappies where they bulged between my thighs. The front of my onesie tented slightly because of my prominent erection underneath. Wantonly I pressed my palm against the sodden cloth beneath the tight onesie and plastic panties, until still-warm trickles of urine dribbled over my sensitive perineum. I reached down between my legs and forced the deliciously soggy cloth more firmly against my rosebud, only then becoming aware that there was a small squishy lump wedged between my damp botty cheeks. I hadn't noticed the smell of my dirty diaper, and didn't realise that after repeated exposure to certain strong scents, the body switched off those signals from the nose, to make the aromas more tolerable. I was slowly adapting to the stench of my own uncontrollable soiling.

I knew Mummy was busy downstairs with Angie and Daddy hardly ever visited the Nursery in the mornings. I took advantage of this rare brief moment of private alone-time to caress the swollen hardness trapped beneath the clinging sensuous warmth of my dirty soggy nappy. It felt amazing when I briskly rubbed my palm over the front, the stretchy onesie material sliding erotically over the slippery crackling plastic panties underneath. I revelled in the fantastic feelings coming from my throbbing clittie and started to fantasise about Justine the babysitter, picturing her perfect round breasts exposed for my pleasure, with her pinky-brown nipples swollen and erect and ready for my seeking lips.

I instinctively sucked harder on the dummy teat still clamped between my lips. I rubbed my swollen clittie harder and faster through my warm wet nappy, wondering at the strange tension building up in my groin. I was tempted to unfasten the crotch snaps of my onesie and slide my hand inside the tight elastic waistband of my baby panties, to feel inside my humid infantile swaddling. But my thrilling self-pleasuring session was unfortunately interrupted when I heard Mummy climbing the stairs. I rolled onto my side facing the wall when she walked in carrying my snivelling sister.

"I know it hurts, honey, I know," Mummy kindly sympathised, patting Angie's wet diapered bottom reassuringly. "But the paracetamol should start working soon, and we have an appointment with the dentist at ten this morning. We'll see what he has to say," decided my mother firmly, as she lay Angelica on her back on the change table and unclipped her onesie. Mummy pulled down her plastic panties and unpinned her drenched night nappy, and soon had my distressed sister wiped clean, freshly powdered, and taped into a puffy pink disposable diaper. At her tearful request, Angie was dressed in her favourite hot-pink elastic-waist shorts, and a pastel-pink t-shirt that had 'Mummy's Little Angel' spelled out in alphabet blocks across the breast. I took the time available to will away my hard clittie, and by the time Mummy lifted my sister down and lowered the side of my crib, my uncontrollable pee-pee had thankfully dwindled to normal size.

Mummy barely spoke to me that morning while she hurriedly changed my saturated nappy. She didn't even bother commenting on the small turd nestled moistly in my bumcrack, simply tut-tutting in annoyance as she scraped away the sticky mess. She repeatedly wiped me down with baby wipes, until she had thoroughly scrubbed my dirty bottom clean. Soon my ball sack and clittie were fresh and sparkling again, and then Mummy sprinkled powder all over my bottom and crotch and briskly rubbed it in. She pinned my soft fluffy nappies over my hips, tightening each side with the big pink pins in turn until she was satisfied. "Lift your footsies and ballerina toesies, Baby Jennie," she urged me in syrupy baby talk. She slid a fresh pair of plastic panties over the top that were covered with a swishy outer layer of pastel-pink nylon, and I noticed there were three small bands of frilly white lace decorating the seat. She then dressed me in an identical pair of pink shorts and t-shirt to my little sister, except my tiny shorts were stretched to breaking point over my huge cloth nappies.

The dummy chain was clipped to my t-shirt collar and then Mummy lifted me down. I pouted resentfully around my pacifier when I realised my little pink shorts were so tight, you could easily see every fold and bump of my thick nappies underneath. Inspecting my humiliating appearance in the mirror, I could clearly see both pairs of nappy pins sticking out through my snug baby panties and the stretchy terry material of my lightweight shorts. When I turned around and checked, you could even see the lacy ruffles of my rumba panties squashed across my huge bulging rear. Mummy dragged me away from my shameful effeminate reflection and led me waddling awkwardly downstairs by one hand, cradling my grizzling sister in her other arm.

I climbed into my highchair without being asked, and this morning was surprised when I was allowed to feed myself! After securing the worn white leather waist and crotch straps, and locking the pink wooden tray solidly in place, Mummy clipped a plain white bib around my neck. She removed my dripping dummy, dropping it in a glass of water on the kitchen bench so it would be ready for my use again. She dumped a big plastic Sesame Street bowl filled with warm porridge and my pink spoon on the highchair tray, and distantly ordered me to eat my breakfast while she cuddled and tried to calm my teary-eyed sister. I timidly sat there in silence, clumsily eating my meal with the unfamiliar rubber-coated spoon, and contemplating the potential humiliation that awaited me when Mummy took us to visit our dentist in town.

My nightmare was interrupted by the shrill ringing of the telephone. Mummy answered it while clutching Angelica closely. "Hello? Oh hi, Bonnie," Mummy dully greeted our cousin, sounding very preoccupied. "No, Angie has a bad toothache, and I'm taking the girls to the dentist." There was a pause, then she continued; "No, Baby Jennie doesn't need to go, but-" There was a longer pause while Mummy listened carefully, and then she smiled briefly and nodded before responding. "Yes, of course! Uh-huh… Certainly, darling! She's a size six. Yes, I know. Tiny! Thank you, that would be great, Bonnie! Can you get here before 9.30?"

I realised with a pang of concern that Mummy had agreed to leave me in the care of my beautiful buxom cousin again, but I couldn't decide which option might be worse? To let Mummy drag me off to visit our dentist in the crowded city, and let everyone see me dressed in my humiliating pink shorts and feminine top, with my thick nappies obviously bulging underneath? Or to stay home under the care of my devious teenage cousin, who delighted in feminising and humiliating me? Mummy completed her call and hung up the phone, smiling in grim satisfaction at the way things had turned out. While I was gobbling the remainder of my breakfast, Daddy strode into the kitchen dressed in his best navy-blue suit and his red business tie, with a crisp white shirt underneath.

Daddy straightened his tie and carefully pecked my porridge-smeared cheek in passing, and walked over to stand beside Mummy. He tentatively kissed her, holding Angie's little hand comfortingly and muttering gentle encouraging words in her tiny pink ear. When he drew back he addressed our mother, informing her his bags were already packed in the boot of his Ford. He told us he would probably return sometime later this weekend, and after waving at me, he briefly kissed our mother and Angie goodbye before hurrying out the door. Mummy frowned at his departing back, but didn't say a word as she gently bounced my miserable sister in her arms.

After removing my empty Sesame Street bowl and placing my pink sippy-cup full of juice on the highchair tray, Mummy ignored me. She disappeared upstairs carrying my poor sister, trying desperately to comfort the distressed child. I sat there alone in my pink highchair for ages after draining my pink plastic cup, and when I grew too bored, I started to edge forward until my easily-aroused clittie was pressing into the front of my wonderfully warm wet nappy. I rocked my hips and forced my excitable hard pee-pee against the strut under the pink wooden tray, my swelling tool growing harder with each gentle thrust. I wanted to reach down and fondle my throbbing clittie through my clinging baby panties but there was no room to slip my hand between the close-fitting highchair tray and my tummy. Ages passed and despite the exciting feelings coming from inside my lovely wet nappy, I was almost about to call out for Mummy to come and release me when the front doorbell rang. I listened intently as I heard her high heels pacing down the hallway and when Mummy noisily opened the front door, I heard two bright feminine voices greeting her.

I was expecting Bonnie and April Jones to come strolling into the kitchen, but was crushed to discover that my younger cousin had brought over one of her best girlfriends to witness my humiliating baby treatment. Tammy looked about seventeen, around the same age as Bonnie, but nowhere near as tall or busty as my imposing auburn cousin. She had the kind of glamorous good looks you usually associate with teen models, or girls featured on the covers of television magazines. The gorgeous blonde was carrying a heavy blue overnight bag, which she gratefully dropped to the floor and sensibly slid under a kitchen chair, and she laughed gaily when Bonnie made the introductions. "Tammy, this is my little 'niece,' Baby Jennie! See? I told you he was dressed and treated like a precious baby girl." The slender girl with the honey-blonde bob covered her full pink mouth with one small hand as she laughed merrily, her soft brown eyes glinting with amusement.

"Oh my God! She can't be thirteen? My eight-year-old sister Mandy is bigger than her! Look at those gorgeous curls! She looks like Shirley Temple! And she wears a bib and eats from a highchair, too? That is like, seriously weird!" Tammy cackled in bemused astonishment. When she finally brought her giggles under control, she stepped around in front of me and leaned on my highchair tray with her elbows, examining my feminised features from up close. "Oops!" She teased me as she pointed to my porridge-stained face with one pink-painted fingernail. "You got a little…"

Bonnie used my messy bib to presumptively swipe my smeared cheeks, chin and lips, scolding me at the same time in a bored, long-suffering tone. "Baby Jennie is such a messy eater! Let Aunty Bonnie clean you up, baby girl." When my grubby face was scrubbed clean, she let the filthy bib drop to my breast, clucking reprovingly at my dirty childish habits. Her friend laughed brightly again, displaying her perfect, even white teeth, while Bonnie grinned mischievously as she washed her hands at the sink.

For a long while Tammy stared at my freshly-scrubbed face from mere inches away, and I felt my cheeks begin to redden with fresh embarrassment when she brushed aside my bouncing platinum curls to examine my glittering new earrings. "Oh, I love her diamond stud earrings, Bonnie! And she's got pierced ears, too?" She laughed gaily again and shook her head in disbelief. The honey-blonde teen was extraordinarily beautiful and from this close, I could see she didn't wear or need any make-up. Her lightly tanned complexion was immaculate, without a blemish to mar the perfection of her angelic heart-shaped face. Tammy's wide-spaced eyes were huge, the irises a soft milk chocolate-brown flecked with hints of green. Her dark-brown eyebrows formed two neat high arches, her eyelashes were naturally dark and long, and her nose was small and perfectly straight. Her full luscious lips were lightly covered in shiny pink-tinted lip gloss, and they stretched tautly in amusement as I watched her contemptuously flick up the stained white bib covering my breast.

She wasn't as buxom as Bonnie, but the baggy cream blouse tossed carelessly over her mid-thigh, close-fitting denim skirt didn't reveal much of her slim figure above the hips. Tammy's legs were tanned and shapely, with plump muscular calves above slender ankles. My pushy cousin on the other hand was dressed very casually today in her tiny cut-off jeans shorts and a similar loose white blouse, although the top few buttons were unfastened to reveal an expanse of swelling tanned bosom and deep inviting cleavage. Unlike Tammy, Bonnie's beautiful face was perfectly made-up as usual, except today she was only wearing pink-tinted lip gloss instead of lipstick on her puffy bee-stung lips. Bonnie's long bare legs were deeply tanned, and her bust-length chestnut mane was tied back in a low swishing ponytail - which made her fractionally less imposing than the day before. They were both wearing similar flat leather sandals, and I could see they had painted their finger and toenails the same lustrous shade of creamy pink.

"She's really gorgeous," Tammy kindly complimented me, making me hesitantly smile even as my blushing pink cheeks turned a rosier hue. "Prettier than her kid sister, anyway. She's got fabulous long eyelashes, and such pretty, full pink lips." She took one of my hands and turned it over to examine my pink fingernails. "Tiny hands, and such beautifully manicured and painted nails, too! Are you sure she's a boy?" Until she commented on them, I'd completely forgotten about my fluorescent-pink nail polish and the lash extensions permanently glued to my eyelashes, and all the other feminine alterations to my features. I hadn't even noticed my lengthened lashes when I woke up this morning.

"She's a boy, alright! A horrible, disgusting, dirty teenage boy!" Bonnie confirmed with a nasty smirk, and reached under the highchair tray to viciously poke the warm damp crotch of my nappy through my tight pink shorts. Despite my thick wet padding, I whimpered in discomfort and unsuccessfully tried to wriggle away from her, momentarily forgetting I was bound like a helpless infant in my humiliating pink highchair. "She's already wet. Baby Jennie's always wet, so I'll prove it to you when I change her diaper." Bonnie was interrupted by Mummy calling to her from the hallway, and she dashed out to receive any last-minute instructions. The attractive blonde teenager remained behind in the kitchen, her soft brown eyes frankly evaluating my feminised appearance and my humiliating infantile circumstances. I stared back at her in nervous anticipation while silently longing for my dummy, and I almost felt relieved when Bonnie sauntered back into the kitchen. She slid her brown leather shoulder bag from her arm and opened the top zip, and while I watched, she produced the biggest baby bottle I'd ever seen.

"Look what I've got for my precious Baby Jennie," she cooed at me in faux-maternal tones, her huge golden eyes glittering with cruel amusement. I heard Mummy call out a rushed goodbye before she slammed the front door closed after her, as she hurriedly departed with my snivelling sister. My heart raced in panic when I realised I was alone with these two gorgeous girls, and I fearfully wondered what bossy Bonnie had in store for me this morning? She collected my empty pink sippy-cup from the tray and carelessly tossed it in the sink, where it landed with a unnerving loud clatter of plastic. She strode over to the fridge and half-filled the clear baby bottle with orange juice, and then topped it up with cold water from the tap.

"I told you yesterday I was going to buy you a new bottle, Baby Jennie," my towering auburn cousin spitefully reminded me, as she screwed on the pink lid with the clear silicon nipple. She stepped over to my highchair and forcibly thrust the teat between my sulky pouting lips. "You couldn't like, drink from a sippy-cup without like, making a mess everywhere, you know? So it's back to drinking from a baby bottle for you!" I reflexively clamped my lips around the soft nipple and sucked, and as soon as Bonnie tilted the oversized plastic bottle up, juice spurted into my mouth and I was forced to rapidly swallow.

"That's right, Baby Jennie," crooned Tammy pseudo-encouragingly, as she giggled in sadistic delight at my writhing discomfort. "Good baby! Show me how you suckle from your titty bottle like a good little baby girl!" Bonnie must have made the hole in the nipple larger, because juice freely flowed into my mouth even when I didn't suck. I desperately gulped to stop from drowning in the ready stream, and the girls continued to murmur gentle words of encouragement in saccharine baby talk as I reflexively sucked and swallowed. "Look how eagerly she suckles, Bonnie! What a thirsty baby girl!" The pink-capped, clear plastic bottle was enormous, and must have held around a pint of fluid. It seemed to take forever to finish it, especially as I'd only recently drained my sippy-cup. My little tummy felt bloated and I was gasping for breath, and I breathed a sigh of relief when I finally heard the sound of air being sucked back in through the nipple. "Good girl! What a good little baby girl!" Tammy fulsomely praised me, when my grinning cousin triumphantly held up the empty vessel. "Look how Baby Jennie drank it all down for her Aunties, Bonnie. What a precious little baby girl she is!"

Bonnie handed her jeering friend the drained bottle with a flourish and removed my dirty bib, and then she stepped behind my highchair to unbuckle the leather restraints. While she unlocked and removed the tray, I noticed with some alarm that Tammy was refilling the new pink bottle with the same combination of watered-down orange juice. But I didn't have time to wonder what they intended before Bonnie lifted me down with a grunt of exertion, and then she pushed me towards the hallway with several hard whacks on the bottom to encourage me on my way. She picked up the heavy blue overnight bag from under the chair and turned to follow me. "Let's take the baby upstairs right away, and change her wet nappy," she suggested to Tammy, and then turned to me again and archly demanded; "Wouldn't you like that, baby girl? Aunty Bonnie knows how much her Baby Jennie secretly loves having her nappies changed." She grinned wolfishly at my dismayed expression and grasped my hand firmly, leading me waddling wetly towards the stairs. She released my hand and crisply patted my waggling bum all the way upstairs, grinning nastily at the noisy tell-tale wet sound her broad palm made every time it connected with my damp plastic panties.

A smirking Tammy carried the full bottle and followed us into the Nursery, and she was clearly amused when Bonnie explained that the pink wooden crib with the pastel-pink ballerina sheets was mine, too. The tall auburn stuffed the overnight bag under my cot and turned her attention to my cowering form. I felt about six inches tall when my pushy cousin removed my shameful pastel-pink t-shirt and stripped away my hot-pink shorts, revealing my baby-pink lace-trimmed panties before she lifted me onto the change table. I blushed with shame as my embarrassing infantile underwear was exposed to her amused blonde friend, who cackled gaily. "Pink baby panties, too? Ooo, and look at those gorgeous lace ruffles across the tushie! My, my! Baby Jennie definitely is a girly-girl, isn't she?" Tammy insisted with an indulgent smile.

"Baby Jennie is certainly more girl than boy, I think," agreed Bonnie with an evil leer. She turned to me and ordered in a voice dripping with honey; "Lift your widdle footsies for Aunty Bonnie, precious, and point your toesies like a pwetty ballerina, baby girl." She grinned down maliciously at my mortified expression, and her friend chortled in amusement when I automatically obeyed the humiliating crooned commands. My nappy was drenched as usual, which Bonnie pointed out with malevolent delight as she removed the big pink-capped, stainless-steel pins. She needlessly explained how my Mummy insisted my nappies be tightly pinned with two pins each side because I was such a heavy wetter, and my face burned crimson with embarrassment. Her gorgeous blonde friend laughed uproariously at my shame-tinged cheeks.

Tammy stepped to the head of the change table and slipped the teat of the full pink baby bottle between my lips, and once more I was forced to urgently drink to prevent myself from drowning. She gazed down condescendingly at my blushing red face as I reflexively sucked and swallowed, and I couldn't meet her cool, unblinking brown eyes. Instead I sullenly glanced over at Bonnie, to where she stood between my spread legs at the foot of the change table. My cousin lowered my warm wet nappy front while heartlessly discussing my infantile lack of control with her beautiful bemused friend. "She's always been a little panty-pisser, and she's a hopeless bed-wetter, too - although April and I had a hand in that," she admitted with a self-satisfied smirk.
"Oh my God! Look at how tiny her pee-pee is!" Tammy exclaimed, chortling in amusement when she caught sight of my shrivelled clittie.

"Yes, I know," Bonnie agreed with a shark-like smile so reminiscent of her mother. "It's too small to be a penis. That's why Baby Jennie calls it something else." The cool liquid trickling down my throat and the sudden cold breeze on my exposed damp genitals had an unfortunate unexpected effect, and without any conscious thought, a gush of hot wee-wees jetted uncontrollably from my limp little clittie. Since Bonnie was chatting and looking at her friend, the unnoticed amber stream rose from between my legs and made a perfect arc up her peasant blouse and into my cousin's open mouth! It splashed against the back of her throat, triggering the swallowing reflex, and I watched in horror as she unintentionally drank my golden flow. I tried valiantly to stop weeing, but it felt as though the connections between my bladder muscles and my brain had wasted away, and nothing happened when I strained to halt the flood. Bonnie coughed violently and screamed in shock, spraying her white blouse and my tummy with droplets of warm wee-wee, before frantically trying to cover my streaming clittie with the soggy front of my cooling wet nappy.

"Oh! Ugh! Ooo!" Bonnie gasped and spat, and she shook her head in in revulsion. "Oh yuck!" When Tammy recovered from her initial shock, she began to scream with laughter at the comical sight. Her hand was shaking so badly that she lost her grip on my bottle, and I grabbed it before it hit me in the face. When I saw the expression of horrified disgust marring Bonnie's beautiful features, plus the fact that my golden urine was still trickling down her chin and staining her crisp white blouse… I couldn't help it! I had to rip the nipple from my lips and I burst out laughing, too. I don't know whether it was amusement or fear, but I couldn't stop cackling hysterically as my cranky cousin frantically swabbed at her dripping face and wet blouse with one of my dry nappies, her pretty features scrunched up in anger.

"You dirty baby!" she stormed at me when she could talk, snatching the bottle from my hands and tossing it to her bemused accomplice. "You dirty, bad little girl!" She made sure I had stopped wetting before she yanked the drenched diaper out from underneath me and tossed it in the nappy bucket. "You did that deliberately," she spitefully accused, as she roughly wiped me down with baby wipes. My little clittie shrivelled in fright, and didn't react even when she carelessly smeared powder over my crotch and bottom and briskly slapped it in, till a cloud of sweetly perfumed talc enveloped us like a London fog. Her furious tone and glowering golden eyes terrified me, but I couldn't stop the involuntary laughter bubbling from my pink-stained lips. "You think that's funny? You think pee in the mouth is funny? I'll show you! Let's see how much you like pee in the mouth!" She dragged me off the change table and savagely grabbing my freshly-pierced ear, hauled me scared and naked towards the en-suite bathroom, squealing girlishly from the pain in my tender lobe.

To be continued in chapter 11.

Please post a comment here if you want to read more.
Baby Jennie

Chapter 11 Synopsis. Cousin Bonnie and her friend Tammy punish Baby Jennie for peeing on Bonnie. Bonnie explains the reason why she wants to torture Baby Jennie.

Chapter 11. Potty-training Baby Jennie

I danced on tippy toes and ineffectually pawed at her arm, desperately trying to alleviate the agony from my mercilessly-stretched earlobe. But the gleaming new stud piecing my ear only seemed to give my furious cousin a more secure grip on my tortured appendage. When Bonnie forcefully thrust out her hand and released me, I shot forward into the Nursery en-suite bathroom, tumbling in a heap onto the cool white tiles. After repeatedly rinsing her mouth at the vanity basin and wiping her face with my towel, my angry babysitter turned to me in fury.

"Keep an eye on her, Tammy," she snarled to her giggling friend, her tone cold and menacing. "I have to throw these pissy wet clothes in the wash, and we'll need a few things from the overnight bag." I submissively rolled onto my back when Tammy aggressively strode over to me, and she placed her small sandalled foot on my heaving breast. She grinned down at my cowering naked form in cruel amusement, before turning to face my enraged cousin.

"Don't worry," Tammy chuckled snidely, as she leaned more of her weight on my chest. "This naughty little girl isn't going anywhere." When Bonnie stormed off, I fearfully glanced up at my new tormentor. I realised I could see right up her short denim skirt. Tammy was wearing baby-pink nylon bikini panties stretched tautly across her plump round derriere. When she bent her knees and pressed her dainty foot down more forcefully on my trembling bosom, I spied a tiny dark wet spot on the shiny crotch between her smooth sculpted thighs.

Her gorgeous face turned back to me, and I hastily tore my eyes from her damp pink panty crotch and gazed guilelessly up at her bemused brown eyes. One delicate arched eyebrow crawled up her furrowed forehead, and she shook her head in apparent disbelief before demanding incredulously; "Why did you do it? You already know Bonnie's like, out to get you, you silly baby! Why did you piss on her?"

I winced at her scornful expression when I childishly stammered, "I-I couldn't help it! It- it wathn't my fault. I couldn't thtop it from coming out! It wath an acthident!" I wailed like a big baby, unwanted tears of shame and humiliation welling in my big blue eyes.
"What do you mean, you couldn't help it?" Tammy derisively mocked, her twinkling brown eyes crinkling in mirth at my infantile lisp.
"I couldn't help it! I couldn't!" I whined like a cranky toddler. "It jutht cometh out…"
"You mean, you really can't control yourself - like a baby?" Her expression indicated total disbelief when I reluctantly nodded assent.

"I couldn't thtop it! I twied, I really, really twied! I can't control it! It jutht kept pouring out of me!" I insisted in distress, my bottom lip trembling uncontrollably as a single fat tear rolled slowly down my rosy red cheek.
"My God! Bonnie's right! You really are a hopeless baby! A big sissy-pissy cry-baby!" She pursed her full pink lips in disapproval and shook her head mock-sorrowfully, making her short honey-blonde bob dance and sway attractively around her gorgeous face. Her callous observations did nothing to help my frightened demeanour, and more shameful tears trickled down my hot red cheeks.

When Bonnie returned to the bathroom her arms were full, and Tammy abandoned me to assist her overburdened friend. They arranged several unseen items on the vanity bench, and I noticed my cranky cousin had removed her stained top and wet brassiere, leaving her naked from the waist up. She had loosened her chestnut locks, and they hung like a sheet of gleaming silk down her back. Her shoulders, back and legs were deeply tanned from regular sessions of swimming and sunbathing, and her waistline appeared much more slender than when she was clothed. Her curvaceous bottom was barely contained by the tight denim cut-off jeans that clung like a second skin to her proud derriere. "I tossed my wet things in the washing machine and switched it on," she informed Tammy with a quick shrug of resignation, before sweeping her long chestnut hair into an untidy high bun on top of her head, then securing it in place with a white hair elastic.

I passively lay on my back on the cool white tiles warily watching the two teenage beauties, and I shivered in fear at what they intended doing to me. As Bonnie turned to face me with her arms still raised, my eyes automatically locked on her enormous swaying bosom. Her naked breasts were huge and round, hanging heavily from her broad chest, the thimble-sized pinky-brown nipples pointing slightly towards the floor. There was a fine tracery of faint blue veins radiating away from both crinkled buds at either side, disappearing around the gently rising and falling mounds of flesh towards her clean-shaven armpits. As I gazed at the enormous russet caps in fascination, they reacted to the cool bathroom air - or she was aroused by this odd situation - because her nipples grew even larger as I watched.

"Oh my God! Your tits are huge!" Tammy gasped, voicing my unspoken thoughts exactly. Bonnie defensively clamped her large hands over the jiggling meaty orbs, and protectively pressed her huge tanned breasts up against her body. Her modest actions only caused a deep, eye-catching cleavage to form between the melon-sized teats, and the heavy soft flesh began to bunch under her bowed chin and bulge out between her splayed fingers. The absence of tan lines told me my buxom cousin often sunbaked topless, probably around their pool in Aunty Cath's backyard. She frowned when Tammy blithely continued, "I mean, they must be like, double-D's, or what?"
"I’m actually an E-cup," Bonnie admitted a trifle testily. Her frown evaporated like morning mist in the summer sun when her gorgeous blonde friend continued enthusiastically.

"They're fantastic! Gosh, I wish I had tits like yours, you know?" Tammy ruefully admitted, cupping her own smaller (but more than adequate) bust through her loose cream peasant blouse. "Mine are like, only C-cups."
"Oh, mine are okay," Bonnie continued in a much happier tone, relaxing her grip and gently bouncing the heavy fleshy teats in her cupped palms, as though assessing their mammoth weight. "Yours are like, perfect for your slim figure, you know? I'm more… voluptuous. Mine are like, bigger than my mum's now - but they attract boys like flies to shit! You know?"
"I know, I know," agreed the gorgeous blonde teen with a resigned knowing smile. "Sometimes I think boys never grow up, you know? They just want to like, fondle our breasts and suck on Mummy's titties like silly little babies, whenever they can."

With this crude observation both beautiful girls turned to glare down at my naked form. I cowered under their forbidding expressions. "Just like this dirty little baby girl," Bonnie commented, snarling when she noticed my thickening clittie. She sneered down at my swelling tool and placed her fists on her broad womanly hips, and proudly stuck out her well-endowed chest for my cringing admiration.

"Oh look! It's not so tiny now, is it?" Tammy slyly commented, covering her smile with one delicate hand, while staring at the unwanted erection creeping up my baby-smooth tummy towards my powdery belly button. I didn't understand how I could feel so frightened and embarrassed, and yet my uncontrollable clittie was stiffening with every second - just like when I stared at myself in the mirror while wearing my pretty dresses and frilly panties. Without thinking, I tried to defensively cup my hands over my humiliating tumescence, but Bonnie was too quick for me.

"Ah-ah-ah!" My bitchy cousin leaned over me and imperiously smacked my hands away from my swelling groin, making her huge bosoms wobble alarmingly. "No touching down there, little girl! Bad baby! Bad Baby Jennie!" she loudly scolded me, grabbing one of my hands and delivering a couple of harsh stinging swats to the back of my slender wrist. It didn't hurt that much, but I whimpered like a chastised puppy nonetheless. I was distracted by the way her enormous bare breasts swayed and jiggled enticingly before my eyes when she leaned over to discipline me, and my gaze locked on those crinkling erect nipples poking out so seductively. For a moment I wondered what it would be like to wrap my puckered lips around one of those delectable russet buds, and suck and suck and suck…

Bonnie viciously flicked the sensitive underside of the head of my swollen red clittie with the tip of one long pink fingernail. I shrieked in agony and tried to wriggle away. "What's this, Baby Jennie?" she demanded icily. "What's this naughty thing called?" Her pink fingernail was already poised to painfully flick me again, so I submissively babbled an urgent reply.
"It'th my clittie! It'th my clittie, Aunty Bonnie!" I obediently squealed. I was pathetically grateful when she nodded and gave me a thin-lipped smile of approval for my humiliating admission. Despite the pain, my excitable organ had not shrunk one iota - in fact it had swollen to greater proportions! Again I wondered if something was mentally wrong with me. My cheeks blazed with fresh humiliation when Tammy cackled gaily at my childishly-lisped reply.

"Your clittie?" When Tammy managed to stifle her giggles, she mimicked in cruel amusement; "It'th your clittie? Oh Baby Jennie! What a sissy baby girl you really are!" That set her off to giggling again, and it seemed like nothing would stop her. Bonnie stood erect and her fingers dropped to the waistband of her tiny cut-offs, her calculating golden eyes zeroed in on my worried face. She leered menacingly at me as she popped her jeans' button and lowered the zip, and my gaze dropped from her fabulous swaying breasts when she began to tug down her tight denim shorts. My heavily-plucked eyebrows leapt up my forehead when I saw Bonnie was wearing her red satin cheerleader panties - the same panties she had caught me wearing months ago. Despite my overwhelming feelings of shame and embarrassment, I stared in fascination at my voluptuous cousin's erotic strip-tease.

Unlike when I wore them on my tiny frame, the glossy red satin panties were stretched tautly over my cousin's broad womanly hips, the tight material in front pulled up snugly against her female cleft. While she wiggled out of the tiny shorts and kicked them and her sandals clear of her feet, I was entranced by the prominent mound of Bonnie's puffy pudenda. I could clearly pick out the lines of her delicate pussy lips, until the fascinating folds of feminine flesh faded from sight where they passed under the thicker padded panty crotch. She twirled around, bent over slightly, and provocatively stuck out her curvaceous bottom at me, until her tight red knickers were stretched to the limit over the generous expanse of heavenly woman flesh.

Bonnie rippled her fingers through the shimmering satin ruffles across the rear and demanded; "Recognize these panties, Baby Jennie?" One glance at my throbbing stiff clittie was all the answer she needed, and she snickered and turned to her friend and requested; "Tammy? Sit on her legs, will you? And grab hold of that disgusting little ball sack to like, control her! You know?"

Tammy immediately jumped to do her bidding, a wicked smile contorting her perfect pink lips. She grabbed hold of my trembling knees and forced my little legs flat, and then she straddled my lower body facing my head. After tugging her faded blue denim skirt higher up her silky-smooth thighs, till I caught another thrilling glimpse of her cute baby-pink knickers, the beautiful blonde squatted and then sat heavily on my shins. Her round fleshy bottom was wonderfully soft and warm on my lower legs. Her silky nylon panties caressed my limbs like a lover's hands encased in satin gloves. Tammy wrapped her left thumb and forefinger all the way around my powdery wrinkled sack, and despite the frightening circumstances, my stiffie surged to greater fullness. When the gorgeous teen tightly gripped my nuts, my swollen red clittie bounced off my tummy with excitement, bobbing in the air and practically pleading for her attention.

Bonnie grinned nastily down at me as she straddled my head barefoot, facing me, and then she slowly lowered her plump womanly bottom till she was sitting heavily on my narrow chest. I gasped in pain as she momentarily crushed the air out of me, before she adjusted her position to briefly take some of her weight on the balls of her feet, with her pink painted toes tucked under my armpits. The whole time my wide staring eyes were locked on the glistening red crotch of her tight satin panties, the glossy material stretched taut as she spread her shapely thighs wide. When she sat and brought her dimpled knees closer together, the damp gusset adhered to her moist flesh underneath, so that I stared in fascination at the pouched core of her womanhood, a bare inch from my anxious worried face.

"Now baby girl," she began, and I tore my mesmerised gaze from her shiny aromatic crotch with difficulty. I could barely see her frowning face past the enormous bobbing breasts that swamped my field of view. "Baby Jennie!" Bonnie snapped crossly to attract my attention. She parted her huge swaying breasts with her hands, so I could see her angry golden eyes glaring down at me. "Hands on your head!" I reflexively obeyed without questioning her odd command, interlocking my fingers over the top of my bouncing blonde ringlets. "Do you remember the last time you saw these panties?" She waited expectantly, and I knew she wanted me to respond.

"Yeth, Aunty Bonnie," I shakily replied, unaware that I was lisping heavily even without my dummy in my mouth. I wasn't sure if my throat trembled from fear or excitement, but both women detected the uncontrollable vibrations in my tremulous, high-pitched voice.
"I thought you might," Bonnie grunted in annoyance. "These are the panties you pissed in, aren't they?"
"Yeth Aunty Bonnie," I reluctantly admitted in my high girlish lisp, making Tammy cackle again.
"God, she even sounds like a little girl! Are those like, the same panties you caught your disgusting little cousin wanking in? Oh no! I thought you said you'd never wear them again?" I couldn't see the beautiful blonde's mocking expression, but I could hear the puzzlement in her sweet melodic voice.

"I decided I would wear them - this one last time," my sneering cousin informed her willing accomplice. "And now I realise that it was like, a very auspicious decision, you know? After all, Baby Jennie has enjoyed pissing in these panties - so why shouldn't I?" Bonnie spread her meaty brown thighs wider and slid her heavy torso forward, till her descending knees nudged my hands away from my scalp and she was almost kneeling over my face. When I went to move my arms out of the way, I realised her lower legs were trapping my upper arms against the bathroom tiles between her feet and her knees, leaving me completely defenceless. I fruitlessly flailed my hands about and fearfully tried to wriggle away, but Bonnie's massive weight on my chest and arms and Tammy's warm bottom squashing my legs meant I couldn't move an inch. The girls had me trapped!

"Keep still, baby!" Tammy testily snapped. She gave my nuts a quick warning twist that made me wail in pain and stop as still as a statue. I realised in terror that she could easily tear off my balls if I didn't instantly obey their every command. The slick material of my cousin's thick satin cheerleader panties slid liquidly forward across my chest, until her damp sweaty panty crotch was poised like the sword of Damocles over my trembling chin. I grunted and groaned wordlessly in protest when she spread her knees and lowered the aromatic gusset right over my mouth and nose. She let her full weight rest painfully on my face as she wriggled and rocked into a more comfortable position. The combined scents from her moist vagina and sweaty bottom reminded me of the many pairs of her sexy used nylon panties I'd greedily sniffed before trying on, and my pounding erection felt like it would explode if anyone so much as touched me down there!

"What was that? Did you say something, little girl? I thought I heard something," Tammy teased me, as my muffled grunts and squeals of alarm were reduced to incoherent whimpers by my overbearing cousin's voluptuous bottom. "No, I think it was probably just nonsense baby babble." Despite the fact that Bonnie's warm thighs were pressed against my ears, I faintly heard her friend's derisive questions and mocking commentary. When I tried to shift my head from side to side, the busty teen towering over me simply clamped her muscular thighs together painfully hard, squeezing my skull in a fleshy vise for a few awful seconds. My terrified shrieks were effectively gagged by the slick satin crotch pressed immovably over my mouth, and I panted in relief when Bonnie relaxed her terrible grip on my head.

Bonnie pressed her huge swaying teats to either side with her hands again to gaze down at my frightened blue eyes, her expression gleeful as she sternly ordered, "Keep still, Baby Jennie - or Aunty Bonnie will spank! You’d better keep your head still and your dirty little potty-mouth right there, you bad baby girl," she muttered in dire warning. I felt Tammy's vicious grip on my nuts tighten once more until I shrieked in submission. "Your Mummy complained that you couldn't be potty-trained - but now I'm gonna potty-train you. I'm gonna train Baby Jennie to be my potty!"

I suddenly understood my cousin's bizarre intentions! My mind reeled in horror! But I knew I had no choice. I was hopelessly trapped, and with each ragged breath I inhaled another overwhelming lungful of her aromatic pussy, her natural odours bewitching my senses like a heady perfume.

"You think pee-pee in the mouth is funny? I'll teach you, little girl! Open your potty-mouth. Open it wide!" Her belligerent tone shattered any thoughts I had of protesting, but her cleft was pressed so tightly against me, I struggled to open my swollen pink lips. Bonnie released her heavy breasts and leaned forward with her hands resting on her broad thighs, so more of her weight rested crushingly on my face. She must have felt my quivering mouth straining to open though, because she grunted in approval. "Good girl. Open up… Wider! And just in time, too..."

As her voice trailed off she raised her steamy crotch from my face momentarily. Before my parted puffy lips could appreciate the short-lived relief, I felt the first hot trickle enter my open mouth. I whimpered in distress when she sighed in satisfaction and let her gaping panty crotch rest crushingly on my mouth and nose once more. "Ahhh! Mmm! That's better!"

Initially there was only a tiny warm stream seeping slowly through the cotton gusset and the thick satin layer stretched between her legs. But as she relaxed and her amber flow increased, it bulged out the crotch of her panties slightly, until it irresistibly bubbled out through the shiny red material like a natural hot spring. "Mmph! Mmmph!" I moaned wordlessly in alarm as the slightly salty stream started to fill my mouth and dribble down my chin. I tried to breathe through my nose, but that just caused me to reflexively swallow a mouthful of her hot urine. Her wee-wee tasted strangely sweet and salty at the same time, but it certainly wasn't offensive as it splashed warmly onto my tongue and ran down my throat.

As Bonnie sighed in appreciation and relaxed further, her steaming stream squirted out more forcefully, until I was gulping to keep up with the plentiful outpourings of her full bladder. I swallowed rapidly and noisily to stop myself from drowning, snuffling for air through flared nostrils and whimpering in fright between acrid mouthfuls. The whole crotch area of her panties was bubbling with her golden wine, some of it running down my cheeks and trickling into my hair, dribbling warmly around the back of my neck to drip onto the bathroom tiles. Bonnie reached down and wrapped her thick fingers in my curly blonde locks. She painfully tightened her grip and lifted my head, cramming my drenched face tighter against her gushing urethra. She used my hair as a handle to direct my open mouth where she wanted it, pressing my parted lips to her sopping panties as she wantonly slid my face up and down along her swelling wet labia.

"That's it, take it!" Bonnie urged me in an odd raspy voice, obviously thrilled to be dominating me in such a humiliating fashion. "Good girl! Ooo, it's just like going on the potty, Tammy! Don't stop, Baby Jennie! Drink down Aunty's pee-pee like an obedient baby girl. Good baby, keep swallowing. That's what I like to hear. Ooo, good girl, gulp it down! That's it, like that! Keep drinking Aunty Bonnie's piss. Take it all for me, my personal little potty. Ahhh yes, that's it. Mmm. Mmmm! Swallow every drop."

Bonnie's throatily whispered commands were obviously directed at me, but she sounded increasingly distracted as her hot amber torrent began to slow to a trickle. By the time I had swallowed the last mouthful of her warm salty wee-wee, Bonnie was urgently rubbing her slick wet panty crotch up and down across my puffy lips and squashed nose. She was making sharp little grunting noises, too, reminiscent of the time Justine breastfed me at the church Nursery. I became aware that Tammy was rocking and bouncing on my shins as well, and I could feel her warm fleshy bottom starting to sweat through her tight pink nylon panties.

"Omigod! That was so horny!" Tammy panted, and the painful rocking on my legs grew more rapid.
"I know," agreed Bonnie, her low voice thick with tension. "In fact, I think I'm gonna- I'm gonna- Oh! Oh! Ohhhh!" My curl-covered head was almost crushed against the tiles when Bonnie started bouncing up and down on my face like a woman possessed. My little nose was pressed deeply into the groove where her soggy panties had tucked inside her swollen parted labia, and I feared she would break my battered beak as she jerked and spasmed on top of me. I tried to pull my face away, but her fist wrapped ruthlessly in my platinum curls eliminated any thoughts of escape. I had no choice but to lie there and take it.

I started whimpering and crying from the pain she was inflicting on my bruised puffy lips. Her pubic bone slammed against my mouth so savagely, I feared she might snap my front teeth. But then her frantic writhing and violent grunting gradually subsided, and as she slid her slick, pee-drenched panty bottom backwards onto my heaving chest, I gasped and breathed a burbling wet sigh of relief. When Bonnie slowly collapsed to one side on her elbow, I raised my head and glanced up past her voluptuous frame, to see Tammy still sitting on my shins with her tight blue skirt bunched around her slender waist. She had released her painful grip on my balls, and it looked like she was using both hands to readjust her tiny pink bikini panties between her legs.

The gorgeous blonde teenager had spread her shapely thighs so wide, her tight pink knickers had almost ridden up inside her sweet body. It looked like the narrow gusset was stuck inside her parted puffy pussy lips like a twisted piece of thick string, and she was unsuccessfully trying to press the bunched material aside with the tips of two fingers. There was a small 'V' of tight blonde curls either side of her gaping, glistening, darker-pink nether lips, and I stared in fascination at my first view of an (almost) naked woman's private parts. Through sexily half-closed eyelids, Tammy noticed me gazing in awe at her exposed crotch, and the urgent circling movements of her fingertips instantly accelerated. She began to make little grunting noises similar to Bonnie, and then her full pink lips pulled back to display her tightly-clenched, perfect white teeth.

"Ungh! Unngggh!" Tammy groaned loudly, and then she began to quietly squeal as she squeezed her eyelids tightly shut. I couldn't believe how beautiful she looked, with her cheeks and lips flushed with sexual arousal. Her fingertips were moving so quickly, they were a blur between her wide-splayed thighs. "Oh God! Oh God! Oh Godogodogodogod-" It hurt my shins when she forcefully bounced up and down on top of me, but I was so intrigued by what I was observing that I didn't utter a word of complaint. My rock-hard clittie was so engorged with blood, the swollen head had turned purple, and there were drops of clear sticky fluid seeping from the single eye and trickling like honey onto my powder-covered tummy. After freezing like an Arctic icicle momentarily, Tammy shivered all over and then slowly collapsed backwards onto my feet, shuddering and gasping for breath. When she and Bonnie both started giggling uncontrollably a few moments later, I wondered what was so funny?

"Oh - my - God!" Tammy eventually gasped, which only set off another round of breathless panting giggles. "That was fantastic! I've never cum so hard!"
"Me neither," Bonnie hoarsely admitted, still panting for breath. I was grateful when minutes later both girls slid off me, and I foolishly assumed my punishment was over. But then Bonnie stepped over me with her feet either side of my head, gazing down in contempt at my frightened blue eyes and pissy wet face. She stuck her thumbs inside the waistband and slowly lowered her dripping red panties down her long, muscular brown legs. They landed right over my tender nose with a soggy wet 'splat,' and she daintily stepped out of the soiled undergarments, leaving them lying on my face. Unfortunately the aromatic satin panties also covered my eyes, so I coudn't catch a glimpse of her glistening bare crotch when she stepped away from me and climbed naked into the tub to take a quick shower.

Glancing over her shoulder as she drew the curtain and turned on the taps, she addressed Tammy. "Put those pissy wet panties on my naughty Baby Jennie, please Tammy? My little baby girl really loves wearing wet panties, you know?"

When I dared remove the aromatic red undies from my face and fearfully glance up, the gorgeous blonde had already straightened her tiny pink knickers, and she was tugging her tight denim skirt back into place over her shapely brown thighs. The salty-sweet ammonia taste of urine was strong in my mouth, and I could still smell the pungent scent of Bonnie's arousal on my face. I wiped my dripping chin with the back of my wrist and tried not to think about the humiliating act I'd just been forced to perform in front of the beautiful Tammy. She pranced over and snatched the wet panties from my hand, before ordering in a voice dripping honey; "Lift those widdle footsies for Aunty Tammy, Baby Jennie."

I ignored the desperate signals from my throbbing hard clittie and obeyed her with alacrity, and she crooned, "Ballerina toesies, sweetheart." I wondered if everyone was going to use that humiliating instruction from now on? The slender beauty slid the soggy red panties up my little legs, before ordering; "Now footsies down, and lift that bot-bot for me, baby girl." I imagined she could hear the liquid sloshing in my full tummy as I obediently raised my hips. She tugged the moist front up over my bobbing stiffie first, before sliding the wet ruffled rear over my quivering, elevated botty cheeks and giggling in contempt. "Good girl! What a good baby girl you are for Aunty Tammy!"

The cooling damp red panties felt cold and clammy wrapped around my bot-bot when I lay back on the tiles, but the slinky moist material hugging my swollen clittie felt amazing! It took all my strength resisting the temptation to caress my hot pulsating hard-on through the sexy cooling satin knickers, erotically drenched with my beautiful cousin's wee-wee and pussy juices. A few moments later Bonnie turned off the shower and she asked Tammy to hand her a clean towel from the linen closet.

After Tammy gave a fluffy pink towel to her dripping friend, the attractive blonde stepped over to the seat in front of the vanity before provocatively raising her tight denim skirt again as she straddled the narrow bench seat facing me. I tried to appear as though I wasn't mesmerised by the dark moist patch on her stained pink panty crotch, clearly visible between her carelessly splayed thighs. The bored expression on Tammy's gorgeous face as she watched me indicated she couldn't care less.

As soon as she was sufficiently dry, my voluptuous cousin wrapped the damp pink towel around her enormous bosoms and then shuffled out to the Nursery. When Bonnie returned a short time later, she was wearing a powder-blue t-shirt I recognised as belonging to my mother. It was too short on my cousin's taller frame and showed off all of her crotch-hugging, cream nylon bikini panties with the pretty lace panels over the hips at the front. Mummy's normally baggy t-shirt was much too tight on the bouncing teen's massive braless chest, and her huge erect nipples poked out temptingly through the thin cotton material. Bonnie was carrying one of my mother's pinafore aprons in her hands; this one made from clear plastic. She noisily shook out the crackling pinnie and looped the white cotton neck strap over her head, then tied the dangling white waist cords in a knot behind the small of her back, covering her front in frosty protective plastic from neck to knee.

Bonnie strode over to the toilet and after slamming closed the white lid, she sat down on the commode and rearranged the layers of rustling apron to shield her lap. My auburn-haired cousin covered her splayed plastic-sheathed thighs with the damp pink towel she had recently used to dry her lush body, and then turned to me, smiling expectantly. Patting her lap and crooking her finger in clear invitation, she called me to her like a strict Nanny summoning her recalcitrant charge. "Hop up and toddle over here to Aunty Bonnie, Baby Jennie. Come on, sweetie! We still have some unfinished business to discuss, little girl."

Her calm motherly tone was soothing and enticing but I knew better. I lay there on the tiles like a truculent toddler, my fat pink bottom lip stuck out resentfully as more sticky stuff paradoxically dribbled out of my pulsating clittie, gluing the moist satin panty front to my swollen erection. When I initially seemed reluctant to move, Tammy stood up menacingly and glowered at me. This alone was enough to encourage me to spin over and scramble to my feet, causing the gorgeous teenager to chortle in derision. My humiliating rock-hard pee-pee bounced and slapped against my swollen tummy, trapped against me by the high-waisted, slick wet cheerleader panties. I hesitantly shuffled over to my domineering cousin in my normal wide-legged baby waddle, causing Tammy to laugh uproariously again.

"Look how she toddles along, just like a diapered two-year-old!" Tammy jeered, and pointed disdainfully at my tiny, wide-splayed feet with the pretty pink toenails. "She waddles just like a real baby even without her nappies on. And that full little tummy sticking out is so baby-like. This is priceless!" She reached for the vanity bench and unseen by me, produced a tiny palm-held camcorder and switched it on, nodding to my leering cousin to indicate she was ready to record the proceedings.
"I told you she was nothing but a big baby!" Bonnie scornfully replied, waving me closer with one regal hand. As soon as I stepped within range, my buxom cousin grasped my slender left wrist with her large left hand and yanked my shivering frame over her broad lap.

I squealed in alarm as I involuntarily tumbled across her spread thighs, my halo of bouncing blonde curls momentarily brushing the floor when she wriggled me about. She took her time ensuring my pee-drenched, panty-clad posterior was perfectly perched for her perverse perusal. My tiny toes struggled to reach the ground but because Bonnie's legs were so long, my shiny pink-painted toenails waggled uselessly in the air. One of her knees pressed into my overloaded tummy and I belched uncontrollably. I clamped my mouth shut with both hands, terrified the acrid contents of my stomach would come hurtling back up.

I could taste wee-wees on my breath and the smell of Bonnie's recent bladder contents filled my nostrils. As she rearranged me over her lap, my satin-wrapped stiffie seemed to accidentally slide into the gap between her slippery plastic-sheathed legs, pressing the damp towel down to form a space between them. When she brought her knees together she inadvertently trapped my pulsating clittie in the humid valley she'd created between her plump fleshy thighs and the warm damp towel - except my throbbing hard pee-pee was thrillingly wrapped in slippery wet satin.

She possessively patted the cooling damp seat of my shiny red panties, before demanding in a soft cajoling tone; "Ooo! What silky-soft satin panties! Do they feel nice, Baby Jennie? Do you like the feel of Aunty's pretty panties on your naughty widdle bot-bot?" She ceased rubbing my pee-damp rear for a few seconds, and when I didn't reply quickly enough, her gently patting hand slammed down forcefully over both poised cheeks. SMACK! "Answer me!"

"Ow!" I squealed in shock and pain, my exhaled breath tinged with the scent of her wee-wee. Of course they felt nice! Her sexy red knickers felt wonderful at that moment, especially with the slinky wet material wrapped so thrillingly around my throbbing stiff clittie. I discretely rocked on her lap and thrust my sensitive swollen tool between her clenched thighs. Gasping in a shuddering breath, I shakily lied. "No, Aunty Bonnie."
"No? she demanded incredulously, although the soothing circular rubbing on my satin-clad botty cheeks was momentarily reassuring. "No? Are you sure, Baby Jennie? From the looks of that hard little clittie, I thought you liked the way my knickers felt. Don't you, little girl?" Her warning tone was insistent, and eager to placate her, I readily changed tack.

"Yeth, Aunty Bonnie. They- They feel nithe," I snivelled in confusion, pathetically grateful when the calming rubbing continued, her fingers dipping lower to softly stroke the soggy gusset bunched between my thighs, pressing erotically over that delicate sensitive spot between my poo-poo hole and my balls.
“Yes baby. I thought so.” She continued rubbing the slick wet material against me till I shuddered at the arousing sensations. "But Baby Jennie! These panties feel all wet!" The stimulating caresses between my legs paused again for a few moments, and I heard her noisily sniff her pee-damp fingers. "Sniff-sniff! Oh my! I can smell wetties! Um-arrrr! Did you do a wee-wee in my pretty panties, little girl?" I knew she wasn't actually referring to this particular occasion, so I answered in the affirmative in my tremulous, high-pitched voice.

"Yeth Aunty Bonnie, I did a wee-wee in your pretty pantieth,' I humbly confessed, hot tears of humiliation beginning to leak from my eyes, till they were running down my long dark lashes and dribbling warmly down my forehead. Despite my shame and embarrassment, my pulsating clittie was like a bar of molten steel between her tightly-clenched thighs. I tentatively rocked my hips up and down a few millimetres, hoping the girls wouldn't notice my fumbling attempts to discretely stimulate my excitable stiff clittie.

"Yes, you did a wee-wee in my pretty panties," Bonnie sadly confirmed, before stating brightly; "But that's because you're still just a helpless little baby girl! Aren't you, Baby Jennie? You're a silly little baby girl who still needs her nappies, aren't you?"
"Yeth Aunty Bonnie, I'm a thilly little baby girl, and I thtill need my nappieth," I sobbingly agreed, and I heard Tammy's callous chuckle of amusement as she recorded my shameful lisping admission.

"That's right! You're just a silly little baby girl," Bonnie brightly concurred, before coyly demanding; "And do silly little baby girls who still need to wear nappies, borrow big-girl panties and wear them without asking permission?"
"No, Aunty Bonnie." The wonderfully erotic sensation from my excited pee-pee slipping and sliding between her clenched thighs was demanding my attention, even as my cousin ruthlessly demanded answers.

"No Aunty Bonnie," she mockingly mimicked my humble snivelled reply, and my right thumb suddenly found its way into my mouth as she scathingly continued, "That would be silly! Little babies don't wear big-girl panties, because they might have accidents in them! Did you have an accident in my pretty panties, baby girl?"
I nodded silently as I sucked my thumb for comfort, momentarily too overcome with shame to reply. But when she waited expectantly, I snivelled tearfully around my wet digit; "Yeth, Aunty Bonnie. I'm thowwy. I'm thowwy I had an acthident in your pwetty pantieth, Aunty Bonnie."

I heard her murmur with grim satisfaction, "You soon will be!" She abruptly changed the direction of her interrogation, catching me totally off-guard. "And what was my naughty baby girl doing in my bathroom that day, while wearing her Aunty's pretty red panties?" Bonnie unexpectedly inquired in a gentle teasing tone.
"I- I wath- I wath pwaying with mythelf, Aunty Bonnie," I confessed with a whimper of shame, and I sucked harder on my thumb.

"Oh yes, that's right! My naughty baby girl was playing with her clittie down there!" Her innocent playful tone indicated she barely recalled that memorable day, before her scary voice dropped an octave when Bonnie demanded menacingly; "Do good little girls play with themselves down there? Hmmm? Do good little baby girls play with their clitties?" I thought about the erotic frenzied masturbation scene I'd just witnessed, but knew this wasn't the time to bring up her hypocrisy.
"No Aunty Bonnie," I shakily replied, saying the words I knew she wanted to hear.

"No, that's right!" Bonnie brightly agreed, switching personalities like an out-of-control schizophrenic. "Now hands on head, little fingers interlocked in those gorgeous blonde curls, and don't let go, my precious babykins! I don't want to have to fight your naughty hands back here. If you let go, we'll have to start again from the beginning." She demanded in her syrupy-sweet voice, "Does widdle Baby Jennie clearly understand her Aunty Bonnie?"
"Yeth, Aunty Bonnie, I underthtand," I weakly replied.

Removing my soggy thumb from my mouth and ignoring the stream of drool dangling from my lips, I obediently interlocked my trembling fingers over my scalp. I felt so frightened and submissive in this humiliating, juvenile punishment position, regardless of the pulsating distraction of my throbbing clittie clamped between her fleshy thighs. My quivering damp bottom felt so exposed and vulnerable, and I knew her gorgeous girlfriend was watching my shameful treatment intently. I didn't realise Tammy was recording my infantile discipline session for posterity, as well.

SMACK! The second bare-handed slap on my quivering damp panty-bottom was more painful than the first, but I had no time to think about it before it rapidly grew much worse! SMACK! SMACK! All thoughts of my excitable hard clittie were driven from my mind by the sudden savage onslaught. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! To my surprise I found myself loudly sobbing almost immediately, as much from being embarrassed and humiliated by the whole situation, as from the actual pain of the spanking. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Not only did it hurt; it was absolutely mortifying! But I kept my fingers wrapped tightly in my curls like a good little girl, because I didn't want to risk the consequences of disobedience. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Soon my juvenile girlish cries rose in pitch, and a smile of vengeful satisfaction crossed my cousin's pretty face when I broke into full-throated, infantile wailing! "Wah! Waah! Waaah!" SMACK!

Abruptly Bonnie ceased pounding on my rear, and I quickly stopped bawling and sucked in a much needed lungful of air. 'Was that it?' I wondered hopefully, listening to Tammy's nasty titters as I tried to bring my stentorian breathing under control. It hadn't lasted as long as I'd feared. It was bad - but it could have been much, much worse! I thought confidently as I slowly unlocked my fingers, 'I can handle that!' "Baby Jennie? Why are you getting this spanking?" I heard my cruel captor's calm voice coax from above, as I swiped at the salty tears running down my forehead and dampening my curly locks.

"I don't know!" I sulkily whined, completely forgetting to thrust my sensitive clittie between her warm clenched thighs. SMACK! "Ow!" It was so much more painful to be spanked through wet knickers!
"Yes you do!" SMACK! "And you will address me as Aunty Bonnie, little girl!" SMACK! SMACK!

"Ow! Ow! Ohhh!" My thumb crept back into my mouth as I anxiously considered my response. "Becauthe- Becauthe I twied on your pwetty pantieth without your permithion, Aunty Bonnie… and I p-p-pwayed with mythelf down there. I- I pwayed with my cwittie, Aunty Bonnie," I sobbingly confessed. I felt her soothingly rub my hot tender bottom through the thick satin knickers again, and I whimpered in relief. That felt so much better!

"That's right! What a clever baby girl for remembering for Aunty!" I let out a deep shuddering breath, relieved it was all over, unaware that the stinging pain in my rear had made my turgid erection fade completely. "I like to make sure my bad widdle baby girls know exactly why they're getting their spankings before we continue. Hands on your head again, Baby Jennie. We can proceed now. Tammy, hand me the punishment paddle, will you?"

I glanced up in alarm to see the beautiful blonde step closer to my prostrate form. She passed a flat wooden object to my strict disciplinarian with her left hand. Tammy had boldly pushed her tight denim skirt up around her slender waist again and her right hand was thrust down the front of her shiny pink panties. Beneath the gossamer layer of tautly stretched nylon I could see her self-pleasuring fingers dancing in that rapid circular pattern over her moist slit once more, and I knew the sadistic siren was savouring every second of my humiliating infantile punishment.

"Hands on head! Fingers interlocked, Baby Jennie!" As I obeyed I felt Bonnie's large hand painfully grasp the curls at the scruff of my neck, forcing my head back down and resolutely keeping me in position. I clasped my trembling fingers together and shivered in terrified anticipation. I didn't see Bonnie heft the heavy wooden paddle in her right hand or raise it high above my red-tinged botty cheeks, but I knew the difference when it came slamming down on my bouncing rear end. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

Beginning with a series of painful hard swats, I learned that my punishment was far from over. I shrieked and cried from the increased pain and the frustration of being so helpless, the uncontrollable wailing stage achieved much more quickly this time. "Wah! Waah! Waaah!" Despite the agony being inflicted on my burning battered bottom, I snarled my fingers in my curly platinum locks as if my life depended on it.

Again Bonnie stopped to have me repeat like a recalcitrant child why I was being paddled, interrogating me further before she resumed. "Tell Aunty Bonnie now, baby! Do good baby girls play with themselves down there?"
"No Aunty Bonnie, no!" I sobbed contritely, my breath coming in ragged gasps and my narrow chest heaving.
"So were you a good baby girl for Aunty Bonnie?" She cajoled me in her sing-song voice, leading me along like a reluctant toddler.
"No Aunty Bonnie," I obediently whimpered, sniffling dreadfully.
"No you weren't! What were you, instead?" she demanded relentlessly, leaving me no room to manoeuvre.

I knew what she wanted me to say, and I tearfully submitted to her will and said the words she had been waiting months to hear. "I was a- I was a- I was a bad baby," I haltingly confessed through my sobs, blushing furiously in shame. I didn't see my cruel domineering cousin stare directly into the camcorder lens that her friend Tammy aimed at us, grinning triumphantly before she continued with her long-awaited climax.
"What are you?" She ruthlessly demanded; "Say it!" I could feel her weight shift to raise the vicious wooden paddle high again, and her menacing tone clearly indicated her intention.

Tears dribbled into my hair as I sobbingly admitted. "I'm a bad baby, Aunty Bonnie!" WHACK! "Ow!"
"You're a bad baby girl! Say it properly!" she ordered loudly.
"I'm a bad baby girl!" WHACK! "Oww! Oh Aunty Bonnie, pweathe-"
"You’re a bad widdle baby girl! Say it again, only this time louder!" she commanded harshly.
"I'm a bad widdle baby girl!" WHACK! "Oww! I'm a bad widdle baby girl, Aunty Bonnie!" WHACK! WHACK! "Oww! Oh Aunty Bonnie, pweathe? Pweathe no?" WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! "I'm a - oh! I'm a bad widdle baby girl, Aunty Bonnie! Sob-sob! WHACK! WHACK! Ow! I'm a bad widdle baby girl, Aunty Bonnie! WHACK! WHACK! Ow! Oww!"

The harsh wooden paddle cracked against my bouncing panty bottom again and again, until I collapsed into uncontrollable infantile wails once more. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! "Waah! Waaah Waaah!" It seemed to last forever, and it hurt more than anything I could remember. My bottom burned and stung all over, my excitable clittie forgotten entirely as I shrieked and screamed like a terrified toddler. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

Finally she stopped punishing me, demanding breathlessly, "Now will you remember to stay out of Aunty Bonnie's good underwear, little one?"
Gasping for breath, I tearfully shrieked, "Yeth!" WHACK! "Waaah! Yeth Aunty Bonnie!" In the background I could hear Tammy's excited high-pitched grunts, and I was certain the beautiful blonde was about to cum in her pink panties again. But this time the thought of watching the tawny teenage temptress masturbate to orgasm did nothing for my shrivelled clittie. All I could think about was the burning pain radiating from my poor abused buttocks.

"Good baby girl! Would Baby Jennie like Aunty Bonnie to pin her in a clean nappy now?"
"Yeth! Yeth pweathe, Aunty Bonnie! I want my nappy! I w-w-want m-my n-n-nappy now!" I sobbed contritely while Tammy loudly climaxed, before the gasping girl collapsed back against the vanity bench in a fit of breathless giggles once more.

"All right, my precious little baby girl, you can unlock your fingers and hop up." Bonnie placed the punishment paddle aside and helped me trembling and swaying to my feet, making sure my fiery red bottom was pointed directly at the camcorder - which Tammy had carefully placed still aimed at us on the bathroom vanity.

As Aunty Bonnie stood me on shaky legs, she soundly chastised me for helplessly wetting her panties again during my spanking over her lap. I hadn't even felt myself lose control of my bladder during the awful endless punishment, but the dripping evidence was there for all to see. She ripped down my sagging red knickers and stood holding out the yellowed, urine-stained, pastel-pink towel and the pissy panties in one hand to display them to Tammy, making sure that part of my humiliation was duly recorded, as well. Droplets of amber liquid dripped unheeded from her plastic pinafore to stain the white tiles at her feet. "Look, Tammy!" Bonnie brutally insisted. "She did it again! Baby Jennie wet her panties during her botty-spanking, and pissed all over me again! She's a hopeless little panty-pisser, I tell you!"

I glanced up and only sobbed louder when I realised my humiliating performance had been filmed by the beautiful blonde teen! Tammy was currently slumped splay-legged and panting with one elbow on the vanity bench, and one palm cupped protectively over her steamy gaping crotch. Instead of covering my embarrassing shrivelled genitals, my little hands flew back to caress and soothe my stinging red bottom.

"No no, widdle girl!" my cruel cousin soundly scolded me, insistently brushing my hands away from my poor bruised botty. "That's a no-no! We don't rub our naughty bot-bot after our spankings, ause that would make it feel better! We want our spankings to hurt for as long as possible! Don't we, Baby Jennie? That way they keep reminding us what a bad widdle baby girl we were! Understand Aunty Bonnie?"
"Yeth Aunty Bonnie," I tearfully conceded, my bowed knees shaking with reaction and making me wobble alarmingly. I clamped my hands to my sides with difficulty, desperate to rub my badly battered botty cheeks. She used some dry patches on the soiled towel to brusquely swipe at my shivering pee-damp thighs and groin, then she discarded the wet towel on the floor as I slowly collapsed to my knees.

My cousin regarded my shaky prostrate form with a sanguine eye, before carelessly pointing to the door. "I think you'd be better off crawling on your hands and knees, Baby Jennie, like the helpless widdle baby girl you really are! Come on, widdle baby girl, crawl into your Nursery. It's time to pin Baby Jennie into a lovely clean nappy," Bonnie sang invitingly, her golden eyes glowing with malicious satisfaction.

Tammy languidly leaned back against the vanity bench and with trembling fingers, wiped away the thin film of sweat beading her upper lip. She snickered in contempt and reached for the camcorder as I slowly crept out of the bathroom on all fours like an infant. She laughed aloud when Bonnie encouraged me to hurry along with another hard bare-handed slap to my bruised bottom. I squealed in fresh agony and increased my shuffling pace to hurriedly crawl over beside the change table, where my cousin lifted me into the air with a grunt of effort. She sat me on the edge of the table, and I winced and whimpered when my sore bare botty made contact with the soft padded vinyl cover.

When Bonnie pushed me onto my back, I lay back without resisting, anxious to have my poor backside safely swathed in several soft layers of cotton terrycloth nappies. She clucked in annoyance at the shiny wet trails of pre-cum dotting my tummy, and called over her shoulder. "Tammy! Fetch me a soapy washer to wipe up this messy little girl, will you. After you wash your hands," she pointedly reminded her friend. The only response was a loud snort of girlish laughter from the bathroom, but a few moments later, I heard the faucet running. When the gorgeous blonde teen strolled out of the en-suite, she wore a lazy grin and carried a steaming washcloth.

"Here you go!" Tammy handed the hot washer to Bonnie, and watched through seductive half-closed eyelids as the buxom teen wiped away all traces of urine - and my excitement - from my tummy and loins. Tammy's cheeks were flushed and her lips were red as cherries after her tumultuous orgasm, and she looked more beautiful than ever. The warm damp cloth felt soothing on my shrivelled genitals, but unfortunately, my easily-aroused clittie began to react to the familiar comforting humidity.

Bonnie finished scrubbing my thickening stalk and little sack, and she frowned forbiddingly as my semi-hard pee-pee flopped obscenely onto my tummy. She turned her attention to my face, and she grinned malevolently as she savagely scoured my smelly mouth, chin and nose with the coarse soapy washcloth covered with urine and my pre-cum. The towering auburn-haired teen discarded the used washer in the nappy bucket under the change table, and Tammy's smirk widened when my cousin popped open the white plastic tub from the shelf above, and she drew out a moist baby wipe with a flourish.

Bonnie briskly commanded in honeyed tones, "Little leggies up, Baby Jennie!" Without waiting for me to obey, she grabbed both my ankles in one meaty fist and thrust my feet high into the air. She forcibly bent my toes back towards my face, and I grunted in alarm as my compressed tummy gurgled menacingly. I concentrated on not throwing up a stomach full of Aunty Bonnie's wee-wee and relaxed my knees, unintentionally allowing my bruised botty cheeks to gape invitingly open. With her other hand, my domineering cousin deftly poked and prodded at my sensitive back door, shoving a cold wipe-covered finger deeply inside my puckering rosebud. I shrieked in distress but she held my ankles so tightly, there was no chance I could wriggle out of her grasp. She rammed her invading digit all the way into my tender back opening, relentlessly pushing past my uselessly clenching sphincter till it was buried to the last knuckle. Tammy giggled gaily at my shrill girlish squeals, but Bonnie yelled over the top of my teary protests, "Watch this, Tammy!"

The beautiful blonde sleepily opened her milk chocolate-brown eyes wider and stepped alongside my folded torso. When Bonnie withdrew her fat finger from my violated rosebud and let my feet crash down onto the padded table, both young women were staring intently at my groin. I glanced down and to my shame, I saw my engorged, rock-hard clittie bobbing with excitement above my tummy again.

"See?" Bonnie demanded of her grinning friend. "I told you she really likes it!" Tammy nodded in understanding and snorted with laughter at the ready evidence of my arousal. My cousin disposed of the badly-soiled baby wipe in the handy nearby bin. She bent down and I heard the frightening rattle of ice in plastic from under the change table. Bonnie had brought up Daddy's ice bucket from the drinks cabinet downstairs, and already filled it from the freezer. She removed the icy-cold spoon and held it up, before gleefully ordering Tammy; "Hold Baby Jennie's ankles for me, will you?"

Tammy eagerly stepped around to the foot of the change table and grasped my slender ankles, forcing my drumming heels onto the padded top. "No, Aunty Bonnie! No, no! Pweathe, I'm thowwy! Aieee!" Both girls cackled sadistically at my shrill screams when my cousin brutally pressed the freezing steel over my tiny wrinkled sack. When I desperately attempted to push the spoon away from my genitals, Bonnie savagely batted my hands aside. I shrieked in fresh agony when she cupped my shrinking stiffie with the frozen utensil, my pleas for mercy unheeded by these two terrible torturers.

I vainly tried to thrash my legs and break free, but Tammy's iron grip on my ankles was too secure. My chilled clittie shrivelled like an old dried mushroom, the shrinking stalk trying to hide inside my body like my terrified testicles. I shivered and whimpered and begged them to stop, but their cruel laughter told me my clamorous pleas fell on deaf ears. Bonnie must have brought up my dummy from the kitchen, because she loudly ordered her friend to release my ankles and stuff the oversize infant soother in my mouth.

"You can let go of her feet now." Bonnie had to yell to be heard over my distressed cries. "Her pacifier is on the shelf up there. Shove it in Baby Jennie's gob, will you? That usually stops this sissy cry-baby bawling." The gorgeous giggling girl grabbed my dum-dums from the shelf above and hurriedly stuffed it in my mouth without wetting it first. But there was enough moisture around my pink puffy lips already, what with my tears and snot running everywhere. As soon as Bonnie removed the icy spoon from my shrunken white clittie, she poured a fresh handful of powder over my numb groin. She carelessly rubbed it in, and then raising my gathered ankles once more, sprinkled the sweetly-perfumed talc over my shivering bruised botty. She kept my footsies high in the air until Tammy arranged two of my fluffy nappies and a liner together, and slid them into place under my conveniently raised rear.

As soon as my heels crashed onto the table, my cousin pulled the front flap up over my frozen genitals and pinned it tightly. I was secretly relieved when my poor bruised bottom and tortured tool were safely enswathed in the layers of comforting soft cloth. Tammy was searching through my panty drawer, and she twirled around and held up some hot-pink baby panties with a cry of delight. These pretty PVC panties had a tiny row of delicate white lace sewn around the waist and the leg bands, and there was a dainty baby-pink satin bow decorating the front of the waistband, too. "Look!" Tammy cried in delight, "Barbie-pink baby panties! I've always loved this colour, especially when I was a little girl."
"Then that's what my Baby Jennie must wear!" Bonnie declared with finality. "After all, she loves being a little girl so much!"

Tammy handed the humiliating wetproof panties to my cousin, and turned to tenderly stroke my cheek with her soft hand. "Aww! There, there, Baby Jennie! Suck your dum-dums, sweetie, and don't cry. Go on, let's hear you sucking, nice and loud now." They chortled in derision as I noisily sucked on my dummy teat for them like a big baby, my distressed cries quietening as the oversized infant soother performed its ritual magic once more.

"Footsies up in the air and ballerina toesies!" my cousin gaily ordered. "Ballerina toesies, baby girl!" Bonnie sang enticingly again when I was slow to obey. With effort I raised my feet and pointed my trembling toes, amazed at the fatigue overwhelming me. She threaded the crackling pilchers over my compliantly-pointed toes and slid them up my shaky legs. "Oh look, Baby Jennie!" Bonnie crowed with delight. "Your pretty pink panties match your nail polish! Now lift that botty for Aunty, baby. Good girl! And down." When I lowered my crinkling padded bum back onto the change table, I tentatively placed my trembling hands on my slippery panty front and stared down at the ends of my fingers. Bonnie was right. The intense pink PVC panties and my iridescent nails were an almost perfect match. "Ballerina toesies again, Baby Jennie!"

While Bonnie fed my feet into some white ankle socks with pink lace trimmings around the ankles, Tammy sorted through my dresses in the walk-in wardrobe, trying to find something to go with my bright pink panties. "You know, she doesn't have very many dresses," the gorgeous blonde complained, holding up the pastel-pink toddler frock Mummy had recently sewn for me. "This is like, the only pink dress she owns." Tammy produced her other hand from behind her back, proudly displaying the pink padded hanger holding my new white chiffon petticoat. "But look at the gorgeous pettie she's got to wear under it!"
"Don't worry about her lack of wardrobe," Bonnie reassured her prettily pouting friend with a frightening shark-like grin. "My mum has been like, going through our old stuff, and altering a few of our old dressier frocks to fit this precious little girl. She knows how much Baby Jennie loves to dress in pretty frills and lace, you know? Don't you, baby girl?"

With my bottom still burning from the savage beating in the bathroom, I replied without hesitation. "Yeth Aunty Bonnie. I wuv dwething in pwetty fwillth and wathe." I sucked harder on the comforting teat of my dum-dums when they snickered again in cruel amusement. Bonnie sat me up with my stockinged feet dangling over the side of the change table, and held my hands to support me as Tammy opened the frothy petticoat and slid the satin bodice over my bowed head.

Bonnie fed my flaccid arms through the shoestring shoulder straps and rearranged the rustling feminine creation around my swaddled hips. As soon as the chiffon layers had softly settled into place, Tammy rolled the sheer pink frock up in her hands and opening it wide, slipped it over my bouncing blonde curls, too. I offered no resistance as they dressed me like a useless toddler, my poor sore bottom a constant reminder to behave like a good little girl for Aunty Bonnie.

"What shoes shall we wear today, Baby Jennie?" Tammy questioned in saccharine baby tones, although she clearly didn't expect a reply from me. "After all, we want our precious little babykins to look her very best."
"I have the perfect shoes to go with this outfit. In fact, I have the perfect shoes to go with every outfit!" Bonnie grandly announced. She stepped over to my cot and pulled out the heavy blue overnight bag from underneath. She theatrically emptied the contents onto Angie's bed, and at least a half-dozen pairs of little girl's shoes tumbled out onto the bedspread. There were white ones, pink ones, blue ones and red, mostly in the juvenile Maryjane style to which I was already accustomed. "These are some of April's and my old Sunday-school shoes, from when we were about six or seven. We grew so fast at that age, we barely had time to break them in, so most of them still look brand-new."

Tammy squealed in delight as she seized upon a pair of gleaming hot-pink patent shoes, and held them up triumphantly. "Perfect!" Grinning like a madwoman, she approached me joyfully holding up a pair of ballet flats with wafer-thin leather soles, each with a little matching hot-pink satin bow glued over the toe piece. The shiny leather shoes fitted me perfectly, of course, and I silently admitted the colour set off my painted nails and pretty pink panties to perfection. The gorgeous blonde teenager turned to face my cousin, who was leering down at my forced feminisation with evil satisfaction.

"Why, Bonnie?" Tammy demanded, her fabulous face creased in puzzlement. "I mean, like, I don't really care, you know? But why do you hate her so? What did this little baby girl do to you, to piss you off so badly?" She asked the question that had often crossed my mind, but I'd never dared put to my deranged cousin.

Bonnie pursed her full pink lips and folded her arms across her huge breasts, squashing them against her lush body as she contemplated my identical inquiring expression. Her perfectly plucked eyebrows rose up her forehead and she glared accusingly at me, her huge golden eyes blazing. "Baby Jennie knows!" She harshly spat, poking her chin at me. "A few years ago, when I was fourteen, he- she squealed on me and April to my mother! This little panty-pisser got me into like, so much trouble… My mum locked me in my bedroom every evening, and I had to- I had to- I had to wear nappies and plastic panties to bed every night for three months!" Anyone could see the shameful admission was still painful to her even after all these years, but I had no idea what she was talking about.

"What? How? Why? When? What happened?" Tammy demanded in rapt fascination. Bonnie lifted me down from the change table, and made sure I was steady on my feet before releasing her grip on my tiny waist.

By way of reply, my cousin suggested; "Let's take this baby girl downstairs to the kitchen, and lock her back in her highchair. I want to do her make-up again, and I can like, rest all my stuff on the highchair tray, you know? I'll tell you all about what happened while I paint Baby Jennie's face." Similarly intrigued, I willingly grasped Bonnie's large paw when she held it out, and accepted Tammy's dainty hand too when the gorgeous smiling girl offered it to me. I submissively accompanied the two grinning teenagers when they led me waddling awkwardly along the landing towards the stairs.

To be continued in chapter 12.
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Baby Jennie

Synopsis. While Bonnie does Baby Jennie's make-up in the highchair, she explains the origins of her feud with Baby Jennie to her friend Tammy, and how she was forced to wear nappies. Tammy learns of Baby Jennie's early fascination for wearing pretty dresses.

Chapter 12. Bonnie's Story

Before we reached the top of the staircase, Tammy cried, "Wait a minute! Stay here with the baby. I'll be back in a second." I tottered wildly when she released my hand, and Tammy whirled around and dashed back into the Nursery. When she returned, the gorgeous blonde teen was carrying the tiny camcorder from the bathroom. Tammy slid past me on the landing and bounded down the stairs ahead of us. As soon as she reached the ground floor, Tammy turned to us and placed the camcorder viewer to her eye.

I could see the red recording light blinking as she aimed the lens at us and suggested, "I think our precious Baby Jennie should like, bump her way down the stairs on her big fat diapered bottom like a real baby girl. After all, that's what she is, you know?"
"Good idea," agreed Bonnie with a malicious grin, and my cousin relaxed her limpet grip on my wrist. "Sit down there on the top step, Baby Jennie, and show Aunty Tammy and me how you bump your way downstairs on that big puffy bot-bot, like the sweet little baby girl you really are."

I knew there was no point objecting. I obediently sat where she indicated, my glistening pink patent ballet flats resting on the step below. I carefully placed my wide-splayed feet on the next step down, and slid my heavily diapered rear forward, till my rustling pink PVC panties slipped far enough over the edge to let my tender padded rear drop with a loud 'plop' to the step where my feet had started. Then I slid my slippery leather-soled shoes down to the next step, and repeated the humiliating infantile procedure, my cheeks burning with shame. I started to wet again as I plopped onto the third step down. Warm wee-wees slowly trickled out of my shrivelled clittie into my thirsty nappy as I slowly padded my way downstairs like a clumsy toddler. I continued on my noisy plastic-sheathed bottom in this mortifying manner every step of the way, and my pink cheeks turned a rosier hue when Tammy chuckled richly while she filmed my unmistakable infantile antics.

Tammy tried desperately to keep from bursting into fits of laughter, probably because she didn't want the record she was making to be blurred by the uncontrollable shaking of her hands. She wanted to make sure that anyone who viewed this humiliating scene later, would know that I was the overgrown baby girl in the pretty pink outfit, slowly shuffling downstairs on her big diapered botty.

When I finally reached the bottom step, the girls wouldn't let me stand. They insisted I crawl down the hallway into the kitchen on all fours - since I was such a helpless little baby. A giggling Tammy filmed my shameful slow progress every humiliating inch of the way. The rustling chiffon petties and dangling pink dress hem kept catching under my hands and knees, making life more difficult and impeding my clumsy movements even more. The chortling teenagers followed me as I awkwardly shuffled on all fours all the way to the kitchen, laughing and snidely commenting on the way my huge pink padded rear swished and swayed so femininely from side to side.

As soon as I crawled within reach of the highchair, Bonnie grabbed me by the waist and dragged me to my feet. "Upsy-daisy, Baby Jennie!" She twirled me around, making my rustling white chiffon petties dance and sway, before grabbing my padded hips and hoisting me into the air. She thrust my damp diapered rear backwards into the pink highchair seat. After Tammy placed the blinking camera on the breakfast bench with the lens directed at me, the two beautiful teens worked together like a well-oiled machine. While Tammy slid the pink wooden tray over the chair arms and securely locked it in place, Bonnie tightly cinched the worn white leather seat belt around my waist, compressing my pink cotton frock and bunched chiffon petties. I heard my cousin clip the end safely out of my reach behind my back. My bladder reacted normally to the increased pressure by emptying its remaining contents into my already damp nappy, without any conscious control from me. The half-moon cut-out of the highchair tray pressed against my overloaded tummy, and I ineffectually tried to wriggle back a few millimetres to give my poor bloated stomach some relief. The normally soft nappies felt scratchy and irritating on my tender rear end, as I painfully shifted from cheek to bruised cheek.

Bonnie clipped a clean baby-blue bib around my neck while she began reminiscing about how our relationship went sour all those years ago. "When I was fourteen and April was seventeen, we were about the same size, you know? She was an inch or so taller than me, but she was so skinny at that age; I outweighed her by like, six kilos."
"Wow! She must have been thin," interjected Tammy with a look of envy, and my buxom cousin frowned in annoyance.

Bonnie placed her voluminous brown leather shoulder bag on the highchair tray and started searching inside. After a few moments of poking through the rattling contents, she produced a small beige make-up purse with a shiny brass snap clip. "Here we are!" Bonnie cried victoriously. "I put together a little make-up kit for my precious little niece. I know how much she loves looking like a pretty little girl. Don't worry, sweetie," she mockingly reassured me, when she saw my worried expression. "These are all in your correct summer colours." Both girls giggled at this mock-thoughtful comment as Bonnie pawed through her bag to produce two more items, which she handed to Tammy before continuing her story.

"So a few years ago, Aunty Isy was visiting us with her little Jeremy one summer Saturday afternoon, as usual, and we'd all been swimming in our pool. Angelica wasn't born then, but I'm pretty sure Aunty Isy was like, pregnant with a baby bump. When April and I went to our rooms later to shower and change, my sneaky little ten-year-old cousin followed us." My cousin placed her huge leather handbag aside on the kitchen bench, and then snapped open the small beige purse. Bonnie tipped the contents onto my pink tray, and I glanced down in nervous anticipation at the feminine items noisily spilling out in front of me. I already recognised the lipstick and mascara she'd previously used on me, and I spotted the tiny pink pot of blusher and a small applicator brush, as well. There was also a brown eyebrow pencil and a pink lip-liner, which was the first item Bonnie selected. She yanked out my dum-dums and handed it to her smirking friend.

"Stretch your lips like Aunty Bonnie, sweetheart," she crooned to me like a loving carer, and I matched her expression with more expertise this time. "Good baby!" Tammy giggled as my bossy cousin heavily outlined my pink-stained lips with the darker pink pencil. When she finished, Bonnie ordered, "Keep those lips stretched wide for me, little girl." She reached behind her while watching my mouth closely, and Tammy slapped a small vial into her open palm like a theatre nurse delivering surgical instruments to a waiting surgeon's hand.

Grinning maniacally, my cousin unscrewed the tiny vial and with the small pink brush attached to the lid, began to fill in between the lines she had drawn around my obediently parted lips. "I've always been good at like, hair and make-up and stuff, you know? Even when I was little," she commented, before frowning and biting her plump bottom lip in concentration.
"I'll say!" Tammy enthusiastically agreed.

"Much better than April," Bonnie continued as if she hadn't been interrupted. "By the time I was a teenager, I was even better with make-up than my mum - and she's really good at it," she reluctantly admitted. "Anyway, when we'd showered after swimming, April asked me to like, trim her pubes."
"What?" Tammy gasped, and Bonnie turned to face her girlfriend to explain.

"You know, trim her pubic bush. Her kitten. April's always been a bit… you know, hairy down there. She knew I was better at it than her, and she often like, asked me to trim her pubes, so it would look neat for her boyfriend. You know?"
"Oh, okay," Tammy replied with a hint of uncertainty. The pointed tip of her wet pink tongue darted out to lick her suddenly dry lips. I had no idea what Bonnie was talking about, and wondered what 'trimming April's pubes' had to do with her hating me. But I remained silent and tried to listen attentively, as my cousin returned to carefully painting my stretched lips with the pink stain again.

"So there we were, stark-naked after our showers. April was lying on her back on her damp towel spread on her bed, with her feet on the floor, and she like, called to me to come and give her a hand,” Bonnie explained. “When I wandered in she had her nail scissors in her hand, and she begged me to like, trim the edges of her muff. Her boyfriend Trevor didn't like it when the hair got in his mouth, you know?" Both gorgeous teens giggled at that risqué comment, and they glanced down appraisingly at me, to see if I understood the import of their conversation. When I didn't react, they merely grinned and nodded sagely to each other.

While Bonnie was painting my stretched lips and dredging up the past, I was closely observing her gorgeous girlfriend. Tammy opened another small vial of clear liquid and while I watched, she painted the inside of the pink plastic guard of my dum-dums. I frowned in confusion, struggling to keep my mouth open the way Bonnie wanted, while the beautiful blonde also painted the neck of the amber rubber teat with the clear sticky liquid. For a moment I thought the tiny bottle contained the same stuff that seeped out of my clittie whenever I became too excited, and I grimaced in disgust.

"Keep your mouth still!" Bonnie snapped in irritation. I anxiously glanced at her glowering golden eyes and concentrated on holding my lips the way she wanted. When she finished with the tiny pink vial, my cousin carefully screwed on the lid and handed it back to the gorgeous grinning girl behind her, before continuing her story.

"I didn't mind giving my big sister's bush a quick trim, so I took the scissors and like, knelt on the floor between her spread thighs, you know? I carefully trimmed the little black curls from around April's pussy lips, and then like, pursed my lips, leaned in close, and gently blew the cut hairs away from her damp kitten. She loved that!" My cousin chortled at the naughty memory before continuing. "She grabbed my head with one hand and stopped me from backing away, and she moaned in pleasure." Bonnie mimicked her big sister's voice with unerring accuracy. "She cried, 'Don't stop, Bonnie!' April ordered me. 'Do that again. Oh yes, like that! Don't stop! Oh yes, lick me like that! Oh! Don't… stop! Oh… yes! Don't… stop!' You should have heard her squeal when I touched her clit with my tongue!"

Bonnie laughed uproariously, and she didn't notice her smaller friend's cheeks had blushed rosily during her erotic description of illicit Sapphic love. Tammy's wet pink tongue slipped out to run the full length of her dry lips, top and bottom, and her heavy eyelids lowered seductively. While my cousin was vividly describing the incestuous lesbian encounter, I had a sudden flashback to that summer afternoon at Aunty Cath's, all those years ago.

I had grown tired of swimming and climbed out of the pool, needing to run to the toilet again. Mummy was always on my back those days, asking me every twenty minutes if I needed to go to the bathroom, and endlessly reminding me not to pee in her sister’s pool and embarrass her like last time. Whenever we went to our cousins' place to go swimming, my pushy Aunty always gave me some weird orange lollies to eat as soon as we arrived. When I finally saw the bottle they came from and checked the label, I realised she was feeding me chewy orange-flavoured, vitamin C tablets. Apart from being good for me, I later learned that the excess unabsorbed vitamin C was quickly excreted in my urine, turning it a dark golden-yellow. The sole intent of my over-protective Aunty was so that she could tell if I had accidentally peed in her precious pool again.

The vitamin tablets contained high levels of sodium ascorbate, which significantly increased my thirst - and consequently, my urinary output. When I climbed out of the water to use the toilet again for the fifth or sixth time that long sunny afternoon, the toilet in the outside cabana beside the pool was already occupied. I rapidly dried myself with my towel and then tossed it aside as I urgently shuffled towards the house, intending to use the main bathroom inside. When I timidly knocked on the locked bathroom door, I heard my mother's sharp reply. "I'm busy in here! I'll be out in a minute."

In desperation I grabbed the leaking head of my shrivelled peenie through my cold damp swimming trunks, and I hurriedly trotted deeper into the house, intending to use the girls' bathroom. When I reached Bonnie's bedroom door, I found it closed and locked. I whimpered in pain as I stumbled to the next door - April's - and quietly turned the knob and pushed. The white painted door swung open without a sound, to reveal my attractive teenage cousins in a very compromising position.

I remember freezing at the astounding sight confronting me, my eyes wide and my mouth gaping in shock. Both girls were completely naked, and April was lying on her back on her bed, side-on to me. Bonnie was kneeling with her face between her big sister's splayed thighs, and I could see the top of her head slowly bobbing up and down. I heard my raven-haired older cousin slowly moan, "Ohh! Don't! Stop!" She had her fingers tightly twined in Bonnie's long chestnut hair, and it looked as though she was trying to push the kneeling girl's face away from her private parts.

I jerked in alarm when I realised I had accidentally relaxed my grip on my straining peenie. Pee squirted out of me. Totally beyond my control, my full bladder began emptying into my cossie. Hot streams ran down both legs, trickling onto my Aunty's new beige broadloom carpet. I silently turned and ran barefoot for the back door, unsuccessfully trying to pinch my streaming tap closed before I made too big a mess on the floor. As I dashed past the main bathroom, my mother stepped out. She impulsively grabbed me by one arm, unintentionally breaking my death-like grip on the head of my peenie. I shrieked in distress as my overburdened bladder exploded, hot wee-wee gushing into my cold damp swimming costume and running in warm streams down my shivering legs.

"Oh no, Jeremy! Not again!" my mother groaned in despair. She thrust me into the recently vacated bathroom and almost threw me onto the toilet. My swimming costume was still in place as more warm wee-wees poured out of my peenie, to fortunately splash into the toilet bowl underneath my shivering wet bottom. "You're a naughty, naughty little boy!" Mummy growled, wagging her index finger at me like I was an out-of-control toddler. "Why didn't you go to the toilet when I reminded you earlier?"
"I did!" I wailed like a teary schoolgirl, "I did! But I had to go again, and the b-b-bathroom outside was b-b-busy, and y-y-you were in here! I tried to use the g-g-girls' bathroom down the hall, but- but- but-" Mummy ignored my sniveled protests and using the bathmat, wiped up the golden trail of wee-wee I'd left on the pale-blue bathroom tiles.

"Oh no!" Aunty Cath stuck her head in the open bathroom door, callously disregarding my privacy when she furiously complained, "Who made this wet mess on my new carpet? As if I didn't already know!"
"The girls were busy playing doctor," I sobbingly concluded, even as my Mummy turned to her sister to apologise for my infantile lack of bladder control.
Before she could utter another word, Aunty Cath demanded incredulously, "What? Who was playing doctor?"

I blushed with fresh humiliation when my bossy Aunty strode into the brightly-lit bathroom and stared down at me, sitting on the toilet peeing like a girl. I continued noisily urinating through my swimming costume, feeling like a useless toddler as I tearfully replied, "April and B-b-bonnie. They were playing d-d-doctor in April's bedroom, so I couldn't use their b-b-bathroom, and I…" My stammering voice trailed off when I realised Aunty Cath wasn't listening. She had vanished up the hallway, following the warm wet trail I’d regrettably left behind. As soon as Mummy felt sure I had finished weeing, she lifted me off the toilet and ripped down my wet cossie, crankily ordering me to step out of the dripping togs and jump under the warm shower she had running. While I obeyed her stern instructions, she turned to follow her sister. We both heard the penetrating scream of alarm from the other end of the house.

Bonnie dragged me back to the present when she ordered me to keep my freshly-painted mouth open and my wet lips stretched painfully wide, while the pink stain dried. She expertly brushed mascara on my lengthened lashes top and bottom, while she continued telling Tammy her story. "Mum came running into April's bedroom and caught me with my face like, buried between my sister's legs. You should have heard Mum scream!"
"Oh no! What did you do?" Tammy demanded in breathless fascination, her brown eyes shining as she shifted from foot to foot, surreptitiously rubbing her bare thighs together.
"We both jumped up and tried to deny everything, telling her I was only like, trimming April's pubes. But then Aunty Isy wandered in, too, and Mum made us repeat the story. We could see neither of them believed us. Hang on a sec. I have to concentrate for a minute while I do this."

Bonnie then pencilled in my heavily-plucked eyebrows, frowning in concentration when she delicately tidied them with a tiny stiff paintbrush from her own make-up kit. She was humming in satisfaction by the time she brushed some lightly-perfumed pink blusher over my high cheekbones, and I was grateful when she let me relax my straining pink lips. "Her curls have fallen out a bit at the back," Tammy complained, running her slender fingers through the damp platinum curls behind my neck. "Ew! They're wet!"

Bonnie laughed and cuttingly replied, "Probably with my piss. Those curls will wash out, but don't worry. We're going to give our gorgeous widdle baby girl a permanent at my salon this Saturday!"
"Really?" Tammy questioned in disbelief, as she wiped her glistening fingers on my baby-blue bibbie. My cousin packed away my new beauty products in the beige purse, except for the familiar gold tube of lipstick.

"Yes, I'm going to take Baby Jennie with me to my beauty salon again on Saturday morning, and we're going to give her a permanent halo of gorgeous blonde curls that won't wash out." Bonnie gently wiped the ball of her right thumb across my pink painted lips, to check they were dry.
"No matter how many times you piss on her," Tammy spitefully added. The beautiful teens burst into loud guffaws when my painted cheeks blushed a rosier hue than the rouge. I frowned resentfully at their wicked teasing.

"Her lips are dry," Bonnie commented professionally, before nastily pinching my protruding pink bottom lip and giving it a hard yank. I squealed in pain. "You can give baby back her dummy now." Tammy gleefully grabbed my pacifier from the bench, and leaned over the highchair tray to ruthlessly press the oversized infant soother between my compliantly parted lips.

"Here you go, Baby Jennie," Tammy snickered, as she clipped the dangling pink plastic chain to the collar of my baby-blue bibbie. "You have a lovely suck on your dummy teat." The distinct smell of cloves filled my nostrils, and my stained pink lips tingled when I drew the amber rubber teat deep into my mouth. I sucked earnestly on the big baby pacifier for the comfort it usually gave me. "Aww, good girl! Let's hear you sucking, baby girl,” Tammy insisted in treacle tones “That's it, suck your dum-dums for Aunty Tammy, baby. Nice and loud, now!".

I slurped noisily on my dum-dums and tried to block out their cruel laughter. I cast my mind back to the events of that afternoon. After I stepped out of Aunty Cath's shower and swiftly dried myself, I wrapped the damp towel around my waist and shuffled down the hall, to where I could hear the sounds of strident female voices arguing. I realised with shame I had peed all over Aunty Cath's new carpet, and my stomach lurched when I anticipated the trouble that irresponsible infantile act would entail.

"I want the truth!" I heard Aunty Cath thunder, and she sounded so angry, my fumbling footsteps faltered. I nervously peeked into April's bedroom and spied my two beautiful teenage cousins standing naked and shame-faced in front of Mummy and Aunty Cath.

When April glanced towards the doorway and caught me staring at her nakedness, my sixteen-year-old cousin immediately covered her exposed breasts with one forearm and her black furry mound with her other hand. Her mouth gaped in shock before it snapped closed and she glared at me in fury. Bonnie merely gazed down contemptuously at me and proudly thrust out her already well-developed bosom. The small triangle of pale brown curls at the apex of her long brown legs momentarily drew the focus of my wide blue eyes.

When Aunty Cath glanced over her shoulder and caught me shyly peeping from outside the doorway, her frown deepened. "You!" my Aunty snarled accusingly, and I winced in fear. "You naughty little pants-wetter! Get in here!" Her emerald eyes were bright with anger as I reluctantly shuffled into the bedroom, and April frantically wrapped her damp towel around her naked body.

Bonnie stood there staring defiantly at her mother with her fists clenched by her sides, her stiff pink nipples poking out provocatively and her huge golden eyes glistening. "It wasn't my fault!" she piercingly protested, her pretty face flushed red with a combination of shame and anger I would come to know only too well.

"Shut up!" her mother yelled. "I'm going to ask little Jerry here, and see what he says - and I don't want to hear one word from either of you girls." I shuddered at the prospect of being caught up in a bitter family dispute, but before I could consider what the girls might want me to say, my Aunty demanded; "Jerry? Tell me what you saw going on in here between my daughters?" When I guiltily glanced at my compromised cousins, my Aunty snapped at me; "Don't look at them! Look at me, you naughty little boy! Tell me what you saw going on in here, while you were standing out there pissing on my brand-new carpet."

My cheeks blazing with shame, I haltingly described the taboo scene confronting my innocent young eyes when I opened April's bedroom door a few minutes ago. "A-April was lying on her b-b-bed," I stuttered, "and B-b-bonnie was kneeling on the floor with her face pressed between April's legs."
"You little shit! I was only-"
"Silence, Bonnie!" My Aunty's roar was so loud it startled me, and I was thankful my bladder was mostly empty. I nervously wrapped the damp towel more tightly around my waist and pressed one hand over my tiny peenie, cupping my unreliable tool with the absorbent terry towelling just in case. "Go on, Jerry," Aunty Cath ordered in a slightly calmer tone, her normally beautiful face as black as a thundercloud.

"I- I- I dunno," I finished lamely, even as I captured a tiny warm trickle in my cupped palm and clutched the damp towel tighter around my leaky peenie. "Bonnie's head was moving up and d-d-down between April's legs, and April was telling her to stop-"
"She was not!" Bonnie protested vehemently.
"Bonnie! One more word out of you, and I'm getting out the punishment paddle right now!"
"She was too!" I shrilly insisted. "April was trying to push her away, and she was telling B-b-bonnie to stop, and she w-w-wouldn't!" Aunty Cath turned away from me to confront her daughters. April wore a tiny embarrassed smirk, while Bonnie's scrunched face was scarlet with rage.

"I think I've heard enough," my Aunty fumed in a voice cold enough to freeze blood. "Isy, after you and your little piddle-pants have cleaned up that mess in the hallway, could you please let yourselves out? I need to have a little 'mother-daughter' chat with my girls right now. Go to your room, Bonnie, and don't bother putting any pants on. I'll be in with the paddle to deal with your sluttish behaviour shortly. And as for you, April…"

My mother rapidly dragged me out of the bedroom and quietly closed the door behind us, so I didn't get to hear what Aunty Cath had to say to my elder cousin. After I changed into my clothes in the cabana, Mummy made me fetch a bucket full of warm water and a rag. She sprayed the dark trail of wee-wee along the hallway with carpet cleaner, and afterwards I had to crawl around on my hands and knees, and scrub the stinky chemical solution till it foamed.

A few days later I forgot all about the erotic events I had fleetingly witnessed that momentous day. I had been blissfully unconcerned with the results of my half-baked testimony - until this moment, when Bonnie belatedly informed me what had occurred as a result. "I tried to explain to mum what happened, but April said it was like, all my fault, you know? Then my ten-year-old cousin arrived on the scene, and mum said the little panty-pisser must have seen everything. When she asked her, Jennie- Jerry - told mum I had like, forced myself on April, and my big sister had simply been trying to make me stop." There was a longer pause while Bonnie glared balefully at me, I guiltily let my eyes drop to the pastel-pink highchair tray, suddenly fascinated by the brightly coloured item of make-up lying there, and wondering why my tingling lips were turning numb.

"Mum beat the living crap out of my bum that afternoon," my towering cousin ruefully admitted, pausing to rub her plump womanly bottom cheeks at the painful memory. In the momentary silence, I could hear her huge palms slithering sensuously over the seat of her cream nylon panties. "It was my last - and worst - session with the punishment paddle. Then mum decided I couldn't be trusted around my big sister, and she told me I was going to be locked in my bedroom - all night, every night - until she got up in the morning and came to release me."

"Gosh, that's like, so unfair!" Tammy sympathised, leaning over to likewise rub and gently pat Bonnie's slinky panty bottom, looking suitably upset on her friend's behalf. "It wasn't like, your fault, you know? April's so much older than you-"
"I know, I know," Bonnie interrupted her understanding friend, glancing down at the small hand still caressing her curvaceous rear. The buxom auburn-haired beauty smiled briefly before continuing, "But after this little panty-pissing squealer gave mum her side of the story, there was like, no way mum was ever going to believe me. You know?"

When Tammy nodded wryly in agreement, Bonnie continued her tale of woe. "Every night at bedtime, Mum came into my room, kissed me goodnight and then walked out, locking my bedroom door behind her. A few minutes later she said goodnight to April, and then I heard her lock the bathroom door to my room, too."
"You mean, like, you couldn't use the bathroom all night?" Tammy demanded in horrified confusion, even as she leaned forward with heightened interest to hear the gritty details.

"Uh-huh." Bonnie nodded, pouting in misery at the awful memory. "You know April and I have like, an adjoining bathroom we share? Well, Mum had a deadlock installed on my bathroom door like the very next day. She even paid the locksmith extra, to do it on a Sunday, you know?"
"Oh my gosh," Tammy gasped in sympathy. "How were you supposed to like, go to the bathroom, if you needed to use the toilet in the middle of the night? You know?" Her beautiful brown eyes were wide and wondering, and she bit her plump pink bottom lip, her gorgeous face reflecting her concern for her wronged friend.

"I couldn't," my frowning cousin simply replied. "I was okay for the first couple of nights, you know? But on the third night, I must have had like, too much to drink before bedtime."
"Oh no!" Tammy's perfect pink mouth fell open in shock, her wide brown eyes huge with what I assumed was horror.

"That's right. You guessed it." Bonnie nodded sadly and grimaced in self-loathing. "Some time during the third night, I woke up needing to pee. I jumped out of bed and started bashing on the bathroom door, trying to wake April to let me use the toilet without waking our mum, you know? When April finally woke up, my stupid big sister whispered that the door was locked on her side too, and she didn't like, have the key. I started sobbing when my aching bladder eventually burst and I like, pissed in my pyjama panties. I made a mess all over my bedroom floor. Unfortunately, I woke mum with my banging and yelling, and she marched in to find me crying in a huddle against the bathroom door, sitting on her new carpet in a warm puddle of my own pee. You know? So after that, my mum decided to diaper me at bedtime - till she thought I'd learned my lesson."

If it wasn't for the fact that I was securely buckled into my infantile highchair, I would have fallen out of my seat! I clutched the sides of the pink tray for support and barely managed to keep from losing my dum-dums. Bonnie had been forced to wear nappies when she was around my age? It was all too much to take in at once! "That is like, tragic! You poor thing!" Tammy gasped, shaking her honey-blonde bob in stunned disbelief. "That must have been like… awful!" When I glanced at her, I noticed the gorgeous blonde was unconsciously pressing the heel of her hand against her denim skirt, right over her steamy crotch. The way she was rubbing it up and down, I assumed she had an itch that needed scratching.

"It was," Bonnie bitterly confirmed, before glaring darkly at me. "And it was all this naughty little baby girl's fault, you know?" I tried to appear as innocent as possible, avoiding Bonnie's angry golden orbs and vacantly gazing off into the distance, as if I hadn't been privy to their intimate discussion. "Wasn't it, Baby Jennie?" Bonnie crossly insisted, reaching under the highchair tray and past the wooden strut to viciously poke my warm diapered crotch for emphasis. I sucked noisily on my aromatic pacifier and reluctantly turned to face my cranky inquisitor, opening my big blue eyes wider and batting my fabulously long lashes at the two frowning teens in an attempt to look blissfully ignorant.

"So that's why you and April tricked her into like, wetting the bed at your place, whenever she slept over?" Tammy muttered in growing understanding, the circling hand pressed to her groin gradually slowing to a halt. But my ears pricked at this unexpected morsel of information. The girls had tricked me?

"Yes,” Bonnie replied. “I wanted this lying little shit to feel what is was like to be humiliated, by being forced to wear nappies the way I was. So I talked April into like, helping me perform the 'hand in the bowl of warm water' trick on her, whenever she slept over at our place. You know? But unfortunately, after the sissy baby wet the bed the first couple of times, mum only used like, pull-ups and baby panties on Baby Jennie at my place, not diapers. She talked to Aunty Isy about putting this little sissy back in proper cloth nappies, but my plans hadn't progressed that far - till a few weeks ago."

"But what about the gorgeous toddler frocks and frilly baby panties? How did you get your Aunt Isy to dress her- I mean, him - like a pretty baby girl?" Tammy inquired - quite reasonably, I thought. I felt my pink cheeks begin to glow with fresh shame when my cousin eagerly explained my strange fascination for girly things, even at an early age.

"Oh, my cousin Jeremy has always been an effeminate little sissy, you know? Ever since she - I mean, he was little. Whenever Aunty Isy would bring little Jerry over to our place for a visit, April and I would always grab him the moment he waddled through the front door, and drag him off to play with him like our big diapered dolly. He was such a hopeless pants-wetter, his mum made him wear nappies and plastic pants during the day till he was like, five or six years old, you know? I remember when I was about eight or nine, we used to change his wet nappies as soon as he turned up at our place, and then April and I would dress him up in our old toddler frocks and frilly, plastic-lined rumba panties. He was tiny even at that age, and could easily fit into my dresses from when I was like, two or three. He looked so pretty all dressed up, too."

Bonnie paused to grab a small atomizer of perfume from her handbag. She squirted my throat and the top of my head with the strong-smelling floral bouquet. "Well that hasn't changed," Tammy commented in frank admiration, nodding in approval at my beautifully made-up face as Bonnie tossed the perfume spray in her bag. "But didn't he, like, object to being dressed up like a little girl?" Her question was perfectly reasonable, but I knew how Aunty Bonnie was going to reply. My cheeks glowed pink with anticipated shame.

"No way! He loved it! Especially when he was about seven or eight," Bonnie recalled, making Tammy snicker and intensifying my mortification. "When he finally graduated out of nappies and into our old training panties when he was around six, we would let him take them off so he could wear our old frilly panties under the toddler frocks we dressed him in. Mum and Aunty Isy bought and sewed the most fabulous matching frocks and panties for us, when April and I grew out of needing training panties in turn at around age three. We had silky bloomer panties with elastic cuffs edged with the softest delicate lace, that hugged our upper thighs so sensuously, yet felt like we were wearing nothing at all around our crotches! You know? Or sweet snug satin rumba panties, with like, cute rows of frilly lace across the seat, and the softest lace accents around the waist and leg bands. If he objected to us dressing him up or doing his hair in fluffy pigtails, we would simply give his little pee-pee a quick rub through his silky knickers. That would always like, calm him right down! He had the tiniest thingie back then, and his little stiffie looked so cute tenting out his pretty panties in front, especially when he like, danced around for us. You know?"

My cheeks were blazing after Bonnie added that humiliating tidbit of information, but the tall teenager ignored my visible anguish and sailed on. "After that, if we let our little sissy fairy sort through our old toddler dresses and select one for himself - he always chose the frilliest, lace-edged satin frocks to wear, so he could wear the matching silky panties! And he was never satisfied unless he had like, cute shoes and frilly socks to match, too," she needlessly added. Tears of shame welled in my eyes as I restrained myself from nodding in agreement with her heartless accusations. I barely remembered a time when my older female cousins didn't doll me up in their old clothes. I loved it! I wasn't sure about what they did to me when I was still in nappies, as that occurred too long ago for me to recall.

I had hazy memories of April and Bonnie removing my damp training panties when I was around six or seven, and gently wiping me clean down there, stroking and fondling my naughty bits until my sensitive little pee-pee grew stiff and hard. They would cackle and snort with barely suppressed laughter as they dressed me in their prettiest old party frocks and silky-soft panties, crooning encouragingly to me as they teased my naughty bits through the deliciously soft material. But I didn't care! I loved the attention my beautiful bigger cousins showered on me when they dressed me up so prettily. I would wiggle and thrust my slippery panty crotch against their teasing hands, while they caressed me and seduced me into agreeing with their whispered demands to play their little girl for the day.

"So you've always loved dressing like a little girl," Tammy softly questioned me. “Is that right?” My ears were buzzing with shame and I was too embarrassed to respond to her gentle interrogation. It had been fun dressing in pretty clothes and playing gentle girls' games; ones that required cooperation and friendship, not competition. And it had been wonderful when Mummy and Aunty Cath talked to me and treated me like I was a pretty little girl, too, during those halcyon Saturday afternoons. But I couldn't tell these two sadistic sirens the truth, and I clamped my lips tighter around my pacifier nipple. I ducked my chin and kept my tear-filled eyes locked on the tray in front of me. I sucked harder on my smelly dummy teat instead, my puffy lips tingling while my pushy cousin answered for me.

"No, not really,” Bonnie interjected. “He certainly loved playing dress-ups with us when he was little… But when he was about nine, our other cousins came to visit while Jerry was all dolled up in one of my toddler frocks and matching rumba panties. April and I were teaching him how to jump rope, and he was happily skipping around the backyard in his little-girl finery. His mum had cut his hair pretty short by then, because his dad was sick and tired of him being mistaken for a little girl all the time. But April and I tied some pink satin ribbon on two hair clips and put them in his hair, and they looked really cute! Anyway, Aunty Meg has two boys and a girl, and her oldest boy - Sam - was around eight back then, and Jack was probably seven - younger than Jeremy, but both boys were much taller and brawnier than this little sissy, even then. Sam fell about in hysterics when he caught sight of our gorgeous little fairy all dressed up in my flounced pink satin party frock, with some matching pink satin rumba panties peeping out from underneath, and these cute little pink flat sandals."

She chuckled fondly at the memory, but my cheeks began to burn when I remembered how ashamed my male cousins' taunts and cruel laughter had made me feel. "Sam told Jennie that she should have been born a girl, and that Aunty Isy should dress her in pretty frocks and matching panties all the time!” Bonnie snickered. “And young Jack wanted to know why she wasn't wearing a nappy as usual, since she was such a pissy pants-wetter. Even five-year-old Jacqueline thought our Baby Jennie made a more attractive girl than a boy, and told her so. Well! You should have seen little Jennie's expression! She was so embarrassed, her pretty little face went bright red, and she started to sniffle back tears. She tried to rip off her precious pink toddler frock and run away, but with the high round collar and the tiny buttons fastening all the way up the back to the nape of her neck, there was no way this cranky little girl was going to get her gorgeous party dress off without a grown-up’s help."

Bonnie chuckled at the mental picture she'd painted of me, blindly struggling around their backyard with the irremovable pink satin frock trapped over my head, and my frilly matching rumba panties so shamefully on display. Tammy started giggling, too, and my cheeks blushed a rosier hue when the gorgeous blonde innocently inquired, "And did you help her?"
"Of course not!" Bonnie scornfully retorted, and they both laughed gaily once more. "Baby Jennie started to squeal and cry in frustration, just like the hopeless sissy cry-baby she's always been! And then guess what she did?"
"What?" Tammy breathlessly demanded, her huge brown eyes glowing with sadistic anticipation.

My overbearing teenage cousin turned to me and malevolently insisted, "Why don't you tell her, Baby Jennie? Go on! Tell Aunty Tammy what you did, in front of all your cousins that day." My burning eyes were glued to the pink highchair tray in front of me, and my cheeks were crimson with shame when she forced me to confess to my infantile crime.
"I- I- I wet my p-p-pantieth!" I snivelled around my mouth-filling dummy. I sucked harder on my stinky baby soother when both beautiful girls burst into bright peals of laughter again. Unbidden tears welled in my eyes, and I bit on my odd-tasting dummy teat and chewed harder, concentrating on holding back the shameful sign of feminine emotion.

By the time Mummy came to rescue me that terrible afternoon, my jeering younger cousins had surrounded me and were calling me all sorts of nasty names. 'Panty-pissing cry-baby', 'sissy-pissy-pants' and 'big baby girl' were among their favourite jibes. Unfortunately, Mummy didn't bother chastising my mean cousins for teasing me, although she soundly berated me for wetting my pants again. In front of all my cousins, Mummy threatened to put me back in diapers permanently if I couldn't learn to control myself! She hauled me into the house in fury and stripped the shameful wet toddler outfit from my body, and made me take a quick hot bath at Aunty Cath's. Immediately after she dried me off, she changed me into my own clothes, made me apologise to everyone for being such a big baby, and then dragged me home in disgrace.

"That's right, baby girl!" Bonnie brightly exclaimed with a sunny smile for me, as if I was the cleverest baby in the whole wide world. "You wet your panties - again - as usual," she finished scathingly, with a sly wink for her gorgeous blonde friend. "I remember Aunty Isy mentioning that it was like, lucky you were wearing your toddler frock and rumba panties when you wet yourself. Otherwise you wouldn't have had any clean pants to wear home. You know? Your mummy said the next time you wet your pants at our place, she was going to make you like, wear one of our old toddler frocks home, with a thick cloth nappy and some frilly plastic panties underneath." Bonnie's huge golden eyes glinted with malicious delight. "Just think, Baby Jennie! That would have been the start of your very own little girly wardrobe, you know? Imagine how many pretty dresses you'd own by now, if we'd started dressing you all the time like the little girl you really are, way back then?" Tammy cackled in wicked amusement when I winced and shuddered at the thought.

Bonnie continued, "After the boys embarrassed her so badly, Baby Jennie refused to play any more dress-up games with April and me. In fact, she got real surly and sulky there for a while! She stayed right away from us for months. The only time she came near us was when she was trying to sneak a peek up our dresses, you know?"
"Oh no! Is she like, one of those little perverts?"
"Oh, she's a little pervert, alright! But I was just never sure if she just peeking at our sexy bottoms, or lusting after our pretty panties. You know? Anyway, after Angie was born, we had like, a new beautiful baby girl to dress up and mother. We didn't need this sissy big baby any more." I don't know why, but I felt a pain in my chest and my heart shrivelled when I heard Bonnie’s callous words of dismissal.

Part of me always suspected that was how Mummy felt, too, shortly after Angelica was born. She was so tired all the time, and never had any time for me. It felt like she was shutting me out of her life, and I didn't know what I’d done wrong. Daddy tried to take me to our local park early in the mornings on the weekends, I think mostly to get me out of the house and out from under Mummy's feet. He tried kicking a football with me at first, but I was always so hopeless, the ball usually hit me in the face and made me cry. He wrestled and roughhoused with me on the grass a couple of times, but I always ended up getting hurt and bursting into tears. Eventually Daddy gave up playing rough games with me, and he usually took a newspaper to read while I quietly played on the swings, the monkey bars and the roundabout in the kiddie enclosure.

I stayed away from the bigger rougher boys my own age, and usually played on the equipment with the little kids in the fenced-in toddler section. They were closer to my own size and temperament, and the little girls always played such fun games. They were much friendlier, too, and always invited me to join them role-playing with their dollies. Daddy sometimes looked concerned when I was happily playing dolls with children half my age, but since I never caused any trouble, he soon stopped worrying and let me be. It seems I was constantly playing with kids much younger than myself, and I always got on so well with the other little girls. I wondered if that meant anything?

Bonnie brought me screaming back to the present when she painfully ripped out my dummy. I had been sucking hard while I’d been reminiscing, and the amber teat jerked out with a loud 'plop!' that made both teenagers giggle in scorn. Bonnie firmly gripped my chin and turned my face from side to side while she examined my swollen puffy pink lips, and then she tossed her friend that familiar shark-like smile. "Look at those big, pouty pink lips! Aren't they gorgeous?"
"What a great mouth!" Tammy breathed in wide-eyed agreement. "That stain looks so good, she doesn't really need any lipstick, you know?"

"I know - but we're going to use some, anyway." Bonnie grabbed the gold tube, popped the cap, and unscrewed the glistening pink stick. "Pucker up, baby girl," she crooned. When I shaped my mouth properly, she painted my slightly-numb lips with the lightly-perfumed pink lipstick. "Now blot. Good baby. And pucker up again…." She was grinning wildly when she finished, and Tammy's expression was one of combined wonder and awe.

“My God!” Tammy gasped. “She- she looks beautiful!" Tammy turned to my cousin and commented enviously, "You are so talented, Bonnie!"
"I know," the grinning teenager agreed without a hint of false modesty. "I told you I was good."
"Could you like- Could you do my face, too? Please?" Tammy pleaded entreatingly.

"Sure!" Bonnie expansively agreed. "Although I don't have my full make-up kit with me - just Baby Jennie's stuff, and my usual assortment of war-paint, you know? But the colours I used on the baby should pretty much suit your complexion, too." Both girls moved to the kitchen bench nearby and sat down facing each other, smiling in anticipation while Bonnie lay out her tools and the contents of my new make-up purse in preparation.

I was thankful when they ignored me and seemed to forget I was sitting bound in my highchair, although I quietly longed to suck the dummy gently bouncing against the baby-blue bibbie covering my breast. But I wasn't sure if that was allowed, as my tingling puffy lips had been freshly painted with juicy lipstick, and they still felt moist and slightly sticky. I clutched my dum-dums for security anyway, and wriggled uncomfortably from cheek to bruised cheek, disturbed by the unfamiliar sandpapery feel of my normally soft terry nappy on my battered bum. As I shifted about in discomfort, I felt an alarming sharp cramp in my gut. Even as I became aware of the urgent need to empty my bowels, my body was already betraying me. My terrified eyes anxiously darted over to the two gorgeous girls, who were fortunately too preoccupied with Tammy's make-up to even glance my way. A hot hard lump was already oozing out of my slackened anal sphincter, and I winced in embarrassment when a muffled fart trumpeted out as well.

"What was that, Baby Jennie?" Bonnie demanded, pausing mid-brushstroke to turn and glare at me. "Did you do a fluffy in your nappy, baby girl?" She chuckled nastily after she questioned me, then returned to painting her friend's face without waiting for my response.
"Did Baby Jennie let Fluffy off the leash?" Tammy playfully inquired, and after glancing at me, they both broke into fresh fits of girlish giggles when my cheeks blazed crimson with shame. I knew I wasn't required to answer. I concentrated on relaxing open my sphincter and pushing out the heaving mass in my bowels without making too many more embarrassing noises.

Even though I needed to do a poo-poo really badly, it was difficult pushing it out while seated in the restrictive highchair. There was nowhere for it to escape, and the solid log slowly sliding out of my anus hit the wet nappy bunched between my tender cheeks - and stopped. It remained stuck there, propping my delicate hole wide open as I strained to push the hard brown sausage all the way out. But it was impossible!

I leaned forward as far as the tight waist belt would allow me, and rested my elbows on the solid highchair tray. I gripped the sides of the pastel-pink tray and raised my bum as high as I could, and the effort caused the huge turd to slide out another inch or two. Then it began to bend and squish moistly between my cheeks, as it squashed into the warm wet terrycloth underneath me, before sliding up my bottom crack towards the small of my back. I couldn't stop it now, even if I’d wanted to. I grunted quietly as I pushed out more hot poop into my dirty wet nappy, desperately trying to avoid attracting the girls' attention.

Fortunately they were preoccupied gossiping about a girl they knew, and they didn't seem to notice while I filled my nappy to the limit. By the time I felt sure my bowels were empty, my arms were exhausted from holding my weight for so long. When I let go of the highchair tray and relaxed, my bottom slowly settled onto the huge hot lump underneath me. It wedged like delicious warm putty between my sensitive bruised bottom cheeks, and then slowly squished forward between my splayed thighs. I considered informing Bonnie that I had soiled my nappy, but when I imagined the potential embarrassment that might entail, I remained meekly silent. I knew they would discover my infantile humiliation for themselves soon enough.

I silently waited, cringing in anticipation as Bonnie finished painting her gorgeous girlfriend's face. When she began to put away the items of make-up, the tension became unbearable. My senses were on high alert, which is why I was the first one to hear the front door distantly open. I gave a quiet sigh of thanks when I heard my mother's tired voice call out, "Bonnie? I'm home, girls!" My cousin jumped up and dashed out to the hallway, and I heard Mummy greet her; "Hello, Bonnie darling." Mummy sounded slightly confused when she asked, "Is that my t-shirt you're wearing?"
"Yes, Aunty Isy, it is. The baby piddled all over me while I was changing her nappy, so I threw my top in the wash and borrowed one of yours," Bonnie explained sourly.

"Baby Jennie wet your top? Oh no, Bonnie! I'm so sorry! That wicked little-"
"Don't worry, Aunty Isy. I've already paddled your bad little baby girl's bot-bot for being so naughty. Now, how's Angelica?"

I heard Mummy sigh heavily before telling her; "Angie had to have a tooth pulled, and the dentist gave her some medication for the pain. She's fast asleep now, thank God, because she cried all the way there and most of the way home again. I've got such a headache! I might have to ask you to take Baby Jennie out for a couple of hours, so I can have a bit of a lie-down, too. Is that alright? Could you make me a cup of tea too, please darling? I'll just change Angie's wet nappy and put her to bed, and then I'll be right down to check on my other baby girl."

"Alright, Aunty Isy," my cousin cheerfully replied before returning to the kitchen, a huge grin plastered across her immaculately made-up face. "I think we should take our precious big baby girl to play in the park, Tammy!" Bonnie gaily suggested, laughing uproariously when my painted face crumpled in fear.

To be continued in chapter 13.

Please keep posting your comments here. I love to know what my readers think.
Baby Jennie

Synopsis: Tammy and Bonnie take Baby Jennie to Bonnie's place, where Bonnie learns that Tammy wants to try on her old nappies. The girls play dress-ups and decide to take Baby Jennie for a walk in the park.

Chapter 13. Baby Learns Her Lessons

As Bonnie sauntered past my highchair, she paused mid-stride. She grimaced and leaned closer to my cowering form. She took a couple of loud experimental sniffs and screwed up her beautiful painted face in disgust. "Oh-oh! I recognise that nasty smell, Baby Jennie!" She continued in a mocking, sing-song tone; "Someone's got a dirty nap-py, someone's got a dirty nap-py!" Bonnie snickered nastily, pointing an accusing finger at me and shaking her head in revulsion. Her huge bosoms wobbled distractingly under Mummy's tight blue t-shirt, and her long chestnut ponytail flicked from side to side like the tail of a fractious racehorse.

Tammy's beautiful big brown eyes widened in pretend horror. One of her petite hands flew to cover her pretty pink-painted mouth when it gaped theatrically wide. "Oh no! She didn't- You didn't, did you, baby girl?" Tammy rose to her feet and approached me in the highchair. She shook her head mock-sorrowfully when I guiltily lowered my gaze, and my cheeks glowed pink with fresh mortification. "Oh dear! Sniff-sniff! Oh-oh! I can smell a poopy nappy!" The gorgeous blonde grinned down at my shame-faced expression while she interrogated me in that familiar, condescending baby-talk. "Did you make a big poo-poo in your nap-naps, Baby Jennie? Aww, you poor, messy widdle baby girl!" Tammy chuckled and turned to my domineering cousin, switching to more grown-up speech. "I think this dirty little baby girl needs her icky-poo nappy changed, Aunty Bonnie."

"Well, I don't want to be the one to change it," Bonnie grumpily retorted, wrinkling her pert powdered nose in distaste.
"Then maybe we should like, take this little girl to the park in her poopy nappy?" Tammy suggested with a sly smile. She gave a triumphant cackle when my head snapped up in alarm and my cheeks flushed crimson at the potential humiliation.
"No, no! Pweathe no, Aunty Tammy? I don't want to! I don't wanna-" I pleaded, shaking my halo of platinum curls in frantic denial before I was rudely cut off.
Bonnie's perfectly plucked eyebrows arched in astonishment. "What was that, Baby Jennie?" She demanded in a tone of surprised dismay; "You don't want to be changed out of that poopy nappy?"

I started to snivel when my sneering older cousin deftly twisted the meaning of my words. "Yeth pweathe, Aunty Bonnie."
Bonnie cruelly mimicked my high-pitched, lisping reply. "Yeth pweathe?" She concluded in a tone of horrified disbelief, "So you like wearing poopy nappies! What a dirty, disgusting little girl you are!" This was getting worse!
"No, no! I don't wanna go to the park! P-p-pweathe can you change my dirty nappy? Pweathe Aunty Bonnie?" I begged, trying manfully to hold back the tears in spite of my feminised state. Tammy grabbed her taller friend by the shoulder and dragged my chestnut-haired cousin away from my highchair and deeper into the kitchen, where she whispered in her ear for a few minutes.

Bonnie listened attentively as she switched on the kettle on the kitchen bench. She took a china mug from the cupboard above to make a cup of tea for Mummy. I watched their suspicious behaviour with anxious eyes while they chatted animatedly amongst themselves. When both girls fell silent and glanced at me, and then turned back to each other and burst into loud guffaws, I knew my fate had to be the topic under discussion. I fearfully wondered what else they had store for me today, and I felt an unexpected spurt of fresh urine warming my dirty wet nappy. Bonnie grabbed her mobile phone from her handbag and placed a quick call to her big sister, and it sounded like she was arranging a lift home with April. After Mummy's tea was made and the milk and sugar added, the snickering teens approached me again.

It was Tammy who asked the questions, her big brown eyes shining with sadistic delight. "So, Baby Jennie? Would you like Aunty Tammy to change that nasty poopy nappy for you?"
"Yeth pweathe, Aunty Tammy," I submissively replied, staring in fascination at her gorgeous, freshly made-up face. When she looked like she wanted me to continue, I humbly pleaded, "Pwathe can you change my nathty poopy nappy, Aunty Tammy?"

I wanted to let my head droop in shame, but I couldn't tear my eyes from the gorgeous blonde's stunning features. Bonnie had an amazing gift with make-up. The jet-black mascara she'd applied accentuated Tammy's huge eyes and naturally long lashes, making her wide-eyed gaze more innocent and child-like. Her lush smiling lips were glossy with shiny pink lipstick, and looked fuller and more pouty, somehow. Her delicate eyebrows seemed darker and thicker, too. They beautifully framed her huge milk-chocolate-brown eyes, making them look bigger and wider. The pink blush on her high cheekbones mimicked the flush of sexual arousal, and when her pretty painted mouth stretched wide in a broad smile, I thought she was the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen!

"If we change that yucky poopy nappy, Baby Jennie," bargained Tammy, "you'll have to promise to behave like a good little baby girl for your Aunties when we take you out." When she paused for my answer, I slowly nodded. She continued to smile broadly and waited patiently until I verbally responded.
"Yeth, Aunty Tammy." When she still looked at me expectantly, I sighed and mumbled, "Yeth Aunty Tammy, I pwomithe. I pwomithe to behave wike a good wittle baby girl for my Auntieth." Both girls glanced at each other and smiled conspiratorially at my cowardly lisped response.

"Good girl, Baby Jennie!" Bonnie praised me with a pleased smile, before announcing; "So when your Mummy comes back downstairs, you won't mind asking her if your Aunties can take you to the park in your pretty pink dress. Will you, little girl?" My cheeks glowed with fresh humiliation as I tried to figure a way out of this trap, but before I could gather my thoughts, Mummy trudged back into the kitchen. She was wearing a smart navy-and-white striped t-shirt over her crisply-ironed blue jeans, and a pair of comfortable low navy heels. Despite the dark red lipstick decorating her generous mouth, she looked tired and irritable. "Go on, baby girl. Ask your Mummy - if you really want to," Bonnie wickedly encouraged me.

"Ask Mummy what?" my mother demanded shortly. As soon as she stepped within range of my highchair, she screwed up her nose in disgust, placed her fists on her broad hips, and scowled darkly down at me. "Oh no, Baby Jennie! You look so pretty! But you certainly don't smell very pretty! Did you mess your nappy again, little girl?"
Before she could start chastising me for being a dirty baby girl, I interrupted her to ask: "Mummy? Could I pweathe-" I tried to hold back the welling tears as I made my humiliating request. "Could I pweathe go to the park with- with Aunty Bonnie and A-a-aunty T-t-tammy, in my pwetty pink dweth? P-p-pweathe Mummy?"

Mummy frowned and eyed my odd stuttered request with frank suspicion. She was distracted when Bonnie quickly offered: "We'll change this poopy baby for you first, before we take her to the park - if you'd like, Aunty Isy? Your cup of tea is on the bench, you know, so you can sit down and drink that while Tammy and I like, take care of your smelly little girl's messy bot-bot."
"If you girls don't mind?" Mummy entreated, looking unusually haggard and drawn. "It really has been one hell of a morning."
"We don't mind, Aunty Isy," Bonnie brightly replied, surreptitiously grimacing to her friend at the obvious falsehood. "Really we don't. You just sit down there and have your cuppa, and we'll take care of your stinky baby girl. Then we'll like, get her out of your hair for an hour or so, and take her down to the park." Tammy smiled and nodded enthusiastically to show her support.

"Oh would you?" Mummy asked with a grateful smile, collapsing in a chair at the kitchen bench and wrapping her hands around the steaming blue china mug. "That would be great, Bonnie! Thank you so much, darling, and thank you too, Tammy." She took a sip of hot tea and smiled at the girls in appreciation.
"No problem, Mrs R." Tammy replied with a chirpy smile, removing my urine-stained blue bibbie and unfastening the seat belt from behind my chair. Bonnie unlocked the pink tray and slid it away from my tummy.
"Don't worry about waking Angie in the Nursery while you change the baby's nappy. The medicine the dentist gave her has knocked her out cold," Mummy assured us, and the teenagers nodded in understanding.

Tammy moved the worn white leather seatbelt out of the way, and stepped back and clapped her hands. "Come on, Baby Jennie! Hop down from your highchair, little girl, so we can go and change that yucky poopy nappy." The gorgeous grinning teenager leaned in and held out her dainty hands for mine. When I passively took them, she leaned back and slid me forward. The sticky contents of my dirty nappy were forced further up my crack, shifting moistly up towards the small of my back. Tammy led me waddling slowly and awkwardly upstairs to the Nursery, and Bonnie followed close behind. My snickering cousin couldn't resist occasionally swatting my huge bulging bottom along the way, smearing my warm stinky poo-poos all over my poor sore bot-bot.

They quietly escorted me past Angelica who looked unconscious lying in her bed, straight into the en-suite bathroom. Tammy unclipped my dummy chain and temporarily attached it to the collar of her cream peasant blouse. They undressed me beside the tub, being extra-careful when they pulled down my Barbie-pink PVC panties. The smell of fresh faeces filled the small room, and Bonnie immediately stepped back in revulsion. She bitterly complained about the awful stench while she turned on the exhaust fan, and then she hung my clothes on the brass hook behind the bathroom door.

"Oh, it's not so bad," Tammy replied dismissively, making me smile weakly in appreciation while she checked my pretty pink panties for poo-poo stains. Fortunately, the lace-edged baby panties were unsullied, and she placed them aside with a pleased expression. "I used to change my kid sister's poopy nappies when she was three, and some of hers were a lot stinkier that this little girl's, I can tell you!"

Bonnie's disgusted expression clearly indicated her disbelief. She stepped closer to the open window when Tammy urged me to clamber into the empty tub wearing nothing but my sagging full nappy. The gorgeous blonde teen handed my dum-dums to her glowering friend and then knelt beside the bathtub. She efficiently removed the huge pink pins, and my stinky soggy nappies dropped to the bottom of the white enamel bath with a loud wet 'thwack!' After donning some white latex gloves from the box she found in the vanity drawer, Tammy rolled up most of the solid brown lump of crap in the disposable liners. She then tossed the nasty bundle in the toilet for Bonnie to flush away. Tammy used the portable shower head to hose down the filthy nappies, blasting away the sticky remnants with a hard hot stream. She then wrung them out and carefully rolled up the stained pieces of dripping contoured terrycloth. After a final hard squeeze, she handed the diapers to my frowning cousin, who ungraciously accepted them with a grimace of distaste. "Dump those in the nappy bucket, will you Bonnie?"

Tammy turned down the pressure, adjusted the temperature, and then expertly scoured away the mess from between my filthy buttocks first with the warm spray. She then moved the strong stream up to the small of my back and let it pulsate there for a minute, trying to shift the sticky faeces. "My, my! That's still a very red bottom, little girl! That must be very sore, you poor baby," Tammy commented sympathetically. Her sly smirk that gave lie to her kind words. I sulkily turned my face away and refused to respond, my swollen pink-painted bottom lip protruding like a cranky toddler's. She smiled cattily at my unintentional child-like response as she decreased the water pressure even more. She made me turn around so she could carefully hose my front. She kept the warm water flowing in a steady stream, but not forcefully enough to risk splashing my freshly made-up face.

When she decided I was sufficiently clean, she soaped up a pink washcloth. Tammy scrubbed my bum crack and between my legs again and again until the soapy water ran clear. It felt like she was trying to poke her washcloth-wrapped finger right inside my puckered rosebud at one stage. Fortunately, the fluffy wet washer made it way too thick to penetrate very far. The petite blonde made me turn around and gently washed my ball sack and shrivelled clittie, too. I was so worried about what the girls might have planned for me, my terrified tool didn't react at all to her stimulating ministrations.

"That's better," Tammy murmured, before discarding the washcloth and giving my loins a final warm rinse. "Out we hop, baby girl. Come on, sweetie-pie! It's time to pin you into a lovely fresh nappy, Baby Jennie," she sang in encouragement. She removed the dripping latex gloves and dumped them in the bin under the vanity basin.

Tammy swiftly dried my damp pink body and made me toddle nude out to the Nursery ahead of her, giggling at my waddling gait. I didn't see her collect the punishment paddle from beside the toilet. She concealed the vicious wooden instrument behind her back when she followed me into the Nursery. Angelica was still fast asleep in her bed and it appeared she hadn't shifted since we entered the room. Bonnie strode into the Nursery from the landing carrying her clean brassiere and her warm blouse fresh from the drier. She tossed the clothes over the end of my crib before she peeled off Mummy's blue t-shirt.

I knew I was staring at my cousin's huge naked tits while I clambered up onto the change table to lie down on my back, but I couldn't help it! Those mouth-watering russet nipples were stiffly erect from the stimulation of her t-shirt constantly caressing them. I watched in fascination as Bonnie performed the contortions necessary to confine her massive breasts inside the white satin hammocks of her bra. While she rearranged the soft fleshy mounds to sit more comfortably inside the deep E-cups, Tammy snorted in amusement. "I think Baby Jennie likes looking at your titties, Aunty Bonnie," she commented with a knowing leer, nodding to where my little clittie was already thickening and poking out from the juncture of my thighs.

Bonnie stepped closer as Tammy prepared some fresh nappies between my compliantly spread legs. My cheeky cousin cupped her hands under her massive bosom and pressed the shiny white bra cups together to form a deep inviting cleavage. I knew my clittie was growing stiffer and I was staring in awe at her voluptuous chest, but I simply couldn't help it! "Do you like these, Baby Jennie?" Bonnie softly teased me, wobbling and bouncing her proudly-upthrust, well-presented mammaries in front of my blushing pink face. "Wouldn't you love to have a feed from these beauties, baby girl?"

"I'll bet she would!" Tammy's voice sounded envious, as if she had recently contemplated the same thought herself. She cheekily suggested, "Perhaps Aunty Bonnie might give Baby Jennie a suck on her boosies later - if she behaves for her Aunties and does exactly what they tell her to do." When I glanced up in surprise at the beautiful blonde, Tammy arched an interrogative eyebrow at me and smiled enticingly.

"W-w-what?" I stammered in disbelief. My eyes leapt from Tammy's gorgeous smiling face to my cousin's enormous tanned tits, the delectable fleshy melons jiggling inches from my nose.
"Would Baby Jennie like to have a little feed from Aunty Bonnie's big titties? Hmmm?" Bonnie crooned like a loving mother, giving her massive mammaries another wobble. The temptation to press my blushing pink cheeks into that deep fleshy valley was almost overwhelming.
"Y-y-yeth pweathe, Aunty Bonnie!" I gasped and nodded hopefully. I gave a little moue of disappointment when she unexpectedly slid her white peasant blouse over her head. She tugged it down to cover her beautiful brown bosoms.

"We'll see," Bonnie temporized. The buxom teen pulled on her tiny denim shorts, with a wolfish smile for her gorgeous blonde friend. 'If you can be a very good widdle girl and learn you lessons today, maybe Aunty might give baby a lovely feed…" Tammy gave her a quick grin and a discreet nod in reply, and then she brightly ordered me to lift my bottom while she slid a clean pair of fluffy nappies underneath me. The gorgeous blonde only used baby powder on my nappy area, but she didn't seem to mind caressing the talc deeply between my freshly-cleaned bum cheeks, or rubbing a sweetly-scented handful over my stiff bouncing clittie. Bonnie found the change bag beside the table, and busied herself filling the pink-checked vinyl bag with all the necessary diaper-changing supplies - including my new pink baby bottle and the punishment paddle!

Tammy giggled when my excitable tool began to throb and pulsate at her gentle touch. A clear drop of sticky stuff leaked out of the single eye. For one terrifying moment, I thought I was about to be subjected to the horrible ‘frozen spoon trick’ again. To my everlasting relief, Tammy immediately pinned my nappies tightly over my burgeoning arousal, trapping my hot hard clittie against my powdery tummy. I marvelled at the heat emanating from my pulsating organ. I was dressed in the same pastel-pink frock and frothy white chiffon pettie as before, including the Barbie-pink PVC panties underneath. As Bonnie finished slipping my matching pink patent ballet flats over my lacy white anklet socks, we heard a car horn honk from the driveway.

Tammy dashed to the Nursery window. She glanced outside and softly announced; "April's here!" Bonnie nodded and lifted me down from the change table. We all shuffled downstairs hand-in-hand, and we met Mummy on her way up.
"I need to take a little nap, Bonnie," Mummy informed my cousin with a tired smile, gripping the banister for support. She pressed her other hand to her perspiring forehead. "I've taken a strong painkiller for this damn headache, so I might be out cold when you return. Leave the front door unlocked, and when you girls come back, make sure you wake me up if I'm still asleep. Okay?"
"Sure thing, Aunty Isy," confirmed Bonnie, with a nod of understanding and a confidence-inspiring smile.
"You behave yourself, Baby Jennie! Thanks again for looking after my big baby, girls," Mummy added, before continuing upstairs.

While Tammy gripped my hand and led me waddling outside, Bonnie ran to the kitchen to collect her things. I nervously glanced around, afraid some of our neighbours might be wandering about. Fortunately, the street seemed empty. April was standing beside her old red Volvo dressed in a snug pair of navy denim jeans and a crisp white blouse. Her long raven locks were held back from her face by a sweet navy Alice band. My elder cousin had already removed the smaller red toddler seat and stuffed it in the trunk of her car. She showed Tammy how to securely fasten me into the humiliating pink toddler car seat, "so the baby can't escape."

The gorgeous grinning blonde buckled me in, slammed my door and then jumped into the back seat beside me. As soon as Bonnie climbed into the front seat, April hit the gas. At first I had no idea where we were going, but after a few minutes, I knew we were probably on our way to Aunty Cath's place. My cousins only live about five blocks away from us, two blocks past the other end of the huge park where my parents took me last weekend. We pulled up outside my cousins' place a couple of minutes later. When Tammy, Bonnie and I stepped out of the car, April raced away on some unknown errand.

Aunty Cath's huge house was quiet and empty when they marched me inside. Bonnie kept a tight hold of my hand as she dragged me down the long hallway and into her messy bedroom. She brushed aside the dolls and teddy bears scattered about her queen-size bed and then lifted me off my feet. She sat me on my puffy padded bottom on the quilted, blush-pink satin coverlet and ordered; "You just sit still and keep quiet, Baby Jennie. Suck your dummy for Aunty Bonnie like a good baby girl, and don't make a sound." Bonnie produced my pink dummy from the change bag, licked it lavishly, and pressed the glistening amber rubber teat between my swollen pink-painted lips.

I gratefully drew on the satisfying baby soother as she clipped the pink plastic chain to the narrow white lace collar of my floaty pink toddler frock. I realised my nappy was already warm and wet under my tender bottom, and I wriggled about in the familiar soothing warmth to make myself more comfortable.

Tammy wandered about inquisitively touching and poking Bonnie's possessions. "So where are these nappies your mum made you wear? You mentioned you like, still have them?" Tammy coyly inquired, her light tone innocent and wondering. Her pretty painted cheeks turned a rosier hue when she asked the leading questions. The petite girl's chin dipped until she was looking up at her taller friend from below seductively half-closed eyelids. Tammy batted her long black lashes enticingly, giving Bonnie a winsome smile. She slipped the tip of her index finger between her pouting pink lips and sucked on it, twisting her body endearingly from side to side like a small child asking favours from her mother. Bonnie grinned at her petite friend's charming performance and dropped to her knees beside her bed. She reached far under the dangling blush-pink bedspread, slid an old brown suitcase from its place of concealment under her mattress, and opened it on the floor in front of Tammy. I craned my head forward, trying to see the contents. The gorgeous blonde's big brown eyes flew wide and she softly sighed, "Oh my God!"

The way Tammy held up the worn pink cloth nappy with both hands and admired it made me think she secretly wanted to try wearing one. Bonnie obviously had the same impression, because she produced a pair of 3" stainless-steel, pink-capped nappy pins identical to my own. She softly asked her gorgeous, dewy-eyed friend; "Tammy? Tammy sweetie? Do you want to try on one of my nappies?"

I sucked harder on my dum-dums as my naughty hand automatically crept down to cover the warm front of my rustling baby panties, where my clittie was already thickening with excitement. Tammy looked mildly embarrassed, but she smiled sheepishly and silently nodded. She held out the nappy to Bonnie with her left hand while her right index finger crept between her pursed pink lips again, and she sucked noisily on the pink painted nail. Beneath my frock and flared petties, I surreptitiously gave my stiffening clittie a quick squeeze through my deliciously warm wet nappies and rustling PVC panties. Tammy wanted to wear nappies like me?

"I'm pretty sure they'll fit you," Bonnie continued temptingly. She gently took the hourglass-shaped piece of cloth from her suddenly-shy friend's small hand, before spreading the diaper on the queen-size bed beside me. It was a similar shape to my nappies, except larger - and pink - and there was an oval addition two layers thick sewn into the wide crotch as an extra soaker pad. "Come on, sweetie," Bonnie urged Tammy with an encouraging smile, patting the thick, fluffy cloth nappy in blatant invitation. Her tone turned seductive. "Take those big-girl clothes off, Tammy - or do you need Mama to undress you, too?" The thought of seeing Tammy naked - and then diapered - made my stiff clittie surge to greater fullness inside my warm wet nappy.

For a wonderful fleeting moment I thought they were going to let me sit on the bed beside them and watch. But as soon as the slender blonde clambered up onto the high mattress, Bonnie brusquely ordered me aside. "You go and sit in the corner, Baby Jennie, and don't you dare say a word!" She imperiously pointed to a spot near the bathroom door, and I released my discreet grip on my throbbing tool and miserably crept away. I quietly sat cross-legged in the indicated corner on my tender wet bottom, and timidly turned to face the foot of Bonnie's bed, making my dancing petties rustle and swish noisily against the carpet. I casually let my hands rest in my lap, gently pressing down my bobbing petticoats over the tenting front of my slick baby panties.

Unfortunately, from my position on the floor, I couldn't see anything of Tammy except her dainty bare feet. When Bonnie appeared satisfied my view of them was restricted, she turned back to her waiting friend. The gorgeous blonde had already slipped out of her cream peasant blouse and tossed it aside on the carpet, but Bonnie made her lie back on the open nappy while she took over. "Let Mama do that for you, sweetie," she cooed tenderly. I heard Tammy giggle like a cheeky toddler when Bonnie unsnapped the clasps of her denim skirt, before slowly lowering the zip. "Lift that little bot-bot for Mama," Bonnie crooned. They both giggled when Tammy readily obeyed, before raising her lithe little legs high in the air so her friend could tug away the short blue skirt.

"Your panties, too, sweetie," Bonnie lovingly coaxed her. She discarded the worn denim skirt on the beige carpet next to Tammy's blouse. My ears pricked up and my clittie jerked spastically with arousal, and I quietly shifted onto my knees. I reached under my frothy petticoat skirts and clutched my warm damp nappy against my throbbing stiffie with both hands. The heat from the pulsating engorged head pressing against my tummy felt amazing! I knelt up as high as I could and craned my neck towards the girls.

I managed to catch a fleeting glimpse of Tammy's exposed womanhood when she momentarily raised her cute bum. Bonnie whisked down her friend’s pink nylon bikini panties to her knees, and the gorgeous girl quickly dropped her naked bottom back on the bed. She raised her shapely legs so Bonnie could pull her knickers all the way off, too. After she tugged the rumpled pink panties clear of Tammy's petite feet, Bonnie pressed the tiny wisp of damp material to her nose and sniffed loudly. "Oh my! Little Tammy? Did you wet your panties, little girl?" They both burst into fits of girlish giggles again, and Bonnie tossed the balled-up panties on top of her friend's cream blouse. She took the slim white plastic tub of baby wipes and the container of powder from my change bag.

"Mama will have to wipe that wet little kitten clean first," Bonnie whispered enticingly, her voice husky with passion. I watched Tammy's feet draw up in anticipation. The gorgeous blonde teen sighed contentedly as her knees flopped obscenely wide, eagerly exposing herself to my dominant cousin's lascivious gaze. "Good girl," cooed the tall temptress in throaty approval. She bent close to wipe her gorgeous girlfriend's delectable openings again and again with the moist baby wipes.

"Ooo, you're such a wet little girl for Mama!" Bonnie commented with a saucy smile, and both girls started chortling again. After taking an awfully long time to clean her private places, Bonnie lovingly crooned, "There! That's better, little girl. Now Mama just needs to make sure that you're kissing-sweet clean…" The tall teen quickly turned to glance at me, and her huge golden eyes were sparkling with lust when she snapped, "Nose in the corner, Baby Jennie! Go on, you naughty little girl! Turn around and press that little nose into the corner, baby girl - or Aunty Bonnie will spank!"

My hands leapt from my pulsating groin to defensively cover my wet padded rear, my big blue eyes wide in fright. I whirled around on my knees and thrust my nose into the junction of the cream painted walls. I tried to picture what the girls were doing from the odd sounds they were making. Unseen by me, Bonnie moved to kneel on the bed between Tammy's wide-splayed feet. She crouched forward, lowering her face until her puffy, pink-painted lips were millimetres from the petite blonde's gaping vagina. My cousin inhaled loudly and deeply, and I could hear the pleased smile in her voice when she commented, "Mmm, that's better! That's a lovely clean kitten for Mama…" I clearly heard the sound of Bonnie wetly kissing her girlfriend, but I couldn't understand why Tammy began moaning with excitement. The groaning and slurping noises continued unabated for a few minutes, and I took the chance to slowly turn my head, trying to sneak a peek at the girls on the bed.

Bonnie was kneeling on the pink coverlet facing away from me, and her huge womanly bottom was almost split in two by her tiny blue denim shorts. The crotch piece and her cream nylon panties had crept so high up her magnificent arse, I could actually see her darker-pink pussy lips protruding wetly either side of the tiny strip of material. As I watched, a drop of clear juice oozed from her gaping slit, inching lazily down the inside of one fleshy brown thigh. There was a strange pungent scent in the air that was vaguely familiar. I would soon come to identify it as the smell of female sexual arousal. I cautiously held my noisily rustling petties up out of the way with my left hand, and began to discretely rub my right palm up and down over the bulging front of my slippery PVC panties, wondering if I dared reach inside my deliciously warm wet nappies and touch myself down there.

Tammy's legs were hooked over my cousin’s shoulders, her dainty heels resting on Bonnie's broad back. Her pale soles slowly came together and slid up towards Bonnie's neck. It looked like the moaning teen was trying to use her slender heels to drag the bigger girl's face closer to her crotch. "Oh yes, Bonnie! Ooo, that's so good! Ungh - ungh! Oh!" Her toes scrunched up like little claws around Bonnie's bobbing chestnut ponytail, and I could see the creamy pink nail polish on her tiny toenails glistening in the light. "Oh! Oh God! Oh Bonnie! Aww!" Tammy groaned bitterly in disappointment when my pushy cousin forcibly pulled her head back. When Bonnie peeled the smaller girl's ankles from around her neck, I whipped my face away and fearfully pressed my nose into the corner once more.

Bonnie chuckled richly at Tammy's soft cries of displeasure. After a frowning glance in my direction, she murmured consolingly in her girlfriend's shell-like ear. "Later, little girl, later! Mama will take care of you, later - when she doesn't have her naughty little niece to babysit, too." Bonnie sprinkled some powder over the glazed-eyed girl’s crotch and bottom and rubbed it in for several long minutes, until Tammy began to quietly moan again. "That's quite enough of that, little girl!" Bonnie teased her, chastising her horny girlfriend like a prim Sunday school teacher. She placed the container of baby powder back in the change bag and tossed the scrunched-up wipe into a painted metal bin beside her bed. My cousin dusted her powdery hands together, and then swiftly pinned the huge pink terrycloth nappy around her slender girlfriend's hips.

I heard Bonnie jump down from her bed with a ‘thump,’ and then she dragged Tammy to her feet. "Here," Bonnie suggested, her voice thick and husky with arousal. "Try these on, sweetie. They should easily fit over your nappy." Unable to resist the temptation, I glanced around in time to see Tammy pull a huge pair of translucent white plastic panties over her diapered hips. She squatted down low to help slide the tight elastic leg bands higher up her smooth sculpted thighs, and then she tugged the snug waistband all the way over her big padded bum. Her tiny waistline looked so slender, especially in contrast to the thick fluffy nappy pinned tightly over her hips.

"It feels like a huge sanitary pad between my legs," Tammy murmured mostly to herself, splaying her shapely thighs wide again and staring down at her puffy crotch in fascination. She started rubbing her right palm up and down over the slippery front of the crinkling plastic panties, and I saw her shudder at the naughty erotic feelings.
Bonnie grabbed Tammy's smaller hand in hers and gave the back of her slender wrist a playful smack. "Ah-ah-ah! No touching down there, little girl! Only Mama can touch little Tammy down there," she cautioned her friend with a sly smile. Both girls burst into gay girlish laughter once more.

Tammy was wearing a milk-coffee coloured brassiere made from thick cheap cotton. Although she wasn't huge, her soft breast flesh bulged attractively over the top of her tightly-clasped underwear. Bonnie unexpectedly grabbed the shorter girl by the shoulders and spun her around. She swiftly unsnapped Tammy's bra at the back, sliding the beige straps over the skinny girl's shoulders and down her arms before she had a chance to react. "Hey!" Tammy exclaimed in consternation. She whirled around, covering her breasts with her small hands when my pushy cousin ripped away her remaining adult underwear. "What are you doing?"

"Aha! C-cups, eh?" Bonnie sniffed in disbelief when she checked the padded bra cups, before examining the worn label near the rear clasp. "34-B," she read aloud with a sharp snort of laughter. She stared accusingly at her red-cheeked friend. "And it's padded, too, you cheat!"
Tammy shook her head in dismay, making her honey-blonde bob dance and sway attractively. She pouted prettily and complained, "I'm almost a C-cup! Mum says I'm still developing, and- and- Give it back!" When she reached with both hands for the push-up bra Bonnie dangled temptingly in front of her scarlet face, Tammy released her pert young bosoms. The small mounds of feminine flesh didn't drop at all. Her tiny stiff nipples pointed towards the ceiling cornice like two pink pencil erasers. Despite being petite, her perky breasts appeared perfect in every way - although I thought Justine's big pinky-brown nipples and Bonnie's huge russet caps looked much more succulent than Tammy's tiny pink ones.

Bonnie held the frayed cotton bra high out her tinier friend's searching grasp. She replied, "No, no, honey! I have something much more suitable for you to wear, little one." She tormented her embarrassed, small-busted friend by waving the cheater bra in front of Tammy’s scarlet face, and then holding it high out of reach again. Bonnie laughed at Tammy's forlorn expression when she yanked it out of reach, then she danced over to her chest of drawers. My cousin momentarily glanced my way. Fortunately she didn't seem perturbed when she spied me kneeling in the corner with one hand cupped over my puffy wet groin, timidly spying on her and her half-naked accomplice. She obviously had other things on her mind. I noticed Bonnie's normally immaculate pink lipstick was smudged all around her full smiling mouth and wondered; 'How come Tammy's make-up still look immaculate if they've been kissing?'

While Bonnie rummaged through her white dresser drawers, Tammy gazed down in apparent delight at the thick pink nappy encasing her loins. She discretely ran her hands up and down between her legs, caressing her crinkling baby panties and pressing the soft wad of absorbent terrycloth more firmly against her sensitive spots. I likewise rubbed my rock-hard clittie through my warm wet nappy and slippery PVC panties. I desperately hoped bossy Bonnie wouldn't catch me - or punish me if she did. The tall teen produced a white spandex tank-top that looked small enough to fit over one of her thighs, not her torso. "I used to wear this to gym class when I was thirteen to stop my tits from bouncing around too much. Here, put your arms up and try it on."

Tammy bit her plump pink bottom lip uncertainly but obediently raised her arms, making her small naked bosoms rise even higher towards her quivering chin. Bonnie stretched open the tiny white top. After Tammy managed to squeeze her head and arms through the appropriate holes, my domineering cousin tugged it down over the red-faced blonde's slender torso. The lycra tank-top was so tight, it completely flattened Tammy's already-small bust into insignificance, making her look more like an immature twelve-year-old than a seventeen-year-old. While she gazed down at her vanished bosom in consternation, Bonnie dashed to her built-in wardrobe and slid open the mirrored doors. She chuckled richly when she cried, "I have the perfect outfit for you to wear to the park, little Tammy!" She rapidly sorted through the clothes in the overflowing wardrobe, and then tossed a skirt and a crisply-ironed blouse onto the bed.

I recognised the red plaid miniskirt as one April wore the other day. The white, V-neck cotton blouse Bonnie produced was a simple front-button affair, with a small pocket over the left breast and a narrow round collar. It looked like a standard schoolgirl's blouse, and I suspected it was one of Bonnie's old ones. Tammy drew the tartan skirt up her shapely legs and over her big diapered bottom, before deftly reaching behind to hook the eyelet and zip it closed at the back. Because of the height difference, it was much longer on Tammy's shorter frame, and the flared hem fell most of the way down her sculpted bronze thighs.

I couldn't detect any sign of her nappy or her white plastic panties, and for some reason, I felt strangely disappointed. Tammy smoothed the red plaid skirt down over her wide padded hips while staring in amazement at her reflection in the wardrobe's mirrored doors. She twirled around and glanced over her shoulder to check the rear view. I could only admire the way her huge puffy butt and broader hips under the A-line miniskirt seemed to draw my focus exclusively to her deliciously slender waist. Tammy seemed satisfied with the effect too, and readily accepted the blouse from Bonnie's hands. She slipped it on over her tight tank-top and buttoned it closed.

The white cotton blouse was loose enough that her compressed bosom disappeared completely under the baggy folds. When she tucked the flapping tails under the snug waistband of her tartan skirt, it completed the effect. Tammy slipped on her flat leather sandals and frankly admired her appearance in the mirror. "If I'd known, I would have worn my frilly anklet socks and my black patent Maryjanes today," she sighed regretfully. Bonnie was grinning like a madwoman as she tossed her beautiful friend a pair of white cotton anklet socks with two wide rows of elaborate white lace frills around the ankles. While a gleeful Tammy slipped on the sheer socks, Bonnie scrabbled through the dozens of shoeboxes in her cupboard, searching for a pair of her old black patent Maryjanes to fit her girlfriend's tiny feet.

"I think these should fit you. I was saving them for Angie - well, for Baby Jennie, now," Bonnie glibly explained, as she handed the glossy black shoes to her beaming blonde accomplice. In moments Tammy had the shiny Maryjanes buckled in place, and she stood to admire the effect in the mirror once more. She looked like a beautiful pre-teen schoolgirl, and when she grabbed her honey-blonde locks either side of her head and held them up in little bunches, my cousin started to laugh.

"Oh yes, that's perfect!" Bonnie chortled, grabbing a brush and some red hair elastics from on top of her white chest of drawers. In a few minutes Tammy's hair had been styled into a pair of high childish pigtails either side of her head, making her look even more juvenile. Her apparent age had dropped from about twelve to possibly ten, or maybe even younger, and I abruptly realised that the fabulous make-up job Bonnie had done on her friend earlier really emphasised her new juvenile look.

"Now you keep an eye on my Baby Jennie, little Tammy, while Mama changes her outfit and re-does her make-up. I'll only be like, about twenty minutes," Bonnie promised, before she swiftly disappeared into the en-suite bathroom.

Tammy ignored me and continued admiring her juvenile appearance in the mirror, and I shuffled around on my knees to improve my view of… the room. The gorgeous blonde attempted to lift and press her flattened titties together for a few moments, unsuccessfully trying to produce the semblance of grown-up breasts under the baggy white blouse. When she raised the hem of her tartan skirt in front with her left hand and began to press the front of her nappy against her crotch with the heel of her right hand, my tiny paw crept under my pink toddler frock and frothy petties, too. I stared in wonder at the beautiful diapered schoolgirl while she gazed in fascination at her youthful reflection, absent-mindedly caressing her excited kitten through the soft wad of pink cloth bunched between her legs. I discretely massaged my raging pee-drenched erection through my incredibly warm nappy. It was thrilling to realise that I wasn't the only one who found it arousing to wear nappies and to be treated like a helpless little girl.

I don't know how long she stood there rubbing her nappy front and staring at her reflection in the mirror, but I started to breathe heavily when the sensational feelings coming from inside my warm wet nappy almost overwhelmed me! I suddenly felt dizzy and short of breath, and I started to loudly pant - which startled Tammy from her narcissistic reverie. Her beautiful face whipped towards where I knelt in the corner playing with myself and she leapt over to me.

"No, no, Baby Jennie!" Tammy briskly scolded me, but her glowing brown eyes and the smile on her flushed face told me her heart wasn't in it. She snatched my self-pleasuring hand away from my throbbing wet clittie, crisply smacked the back of my wrist, and then wagged a playful warning finger under my nose. "Ah-ah-ah, Baby Jennie! Don't touch! Do you want another spanking?" When she released my hand and it automatically dropped to cup the tenting front of my nappy again. Tammy shook her head in disapproval and reached into the pink-checked change bag lying beside the bed. She produced the wooden punishment paddle and my jaw dropped in shock, almost causing me to lose my dum-dums!

"Well Baby Jennie?" Tammy loudly demanded. Her indulgent smile faded, replaced by a forbidding frown. "Do you want another paddling on that naughty bot-bot, little one?"
"No Aunty Tammy," I mumbled contritely. My hands moved to defensively cover my tender wet bottom, shaking my head in frantic denial and making my halo of blonde ringlets dance. I pleaded, "Pweathe no?"
"What are you, Baby Jennie?" She began to crisply smack the harsh wooden paddle against her open palm, the horrible sound making my blood run cold.

I knew what she expected me to say, and my chin dropped as I submissively replied, "I'm a bad widdle baby girl, Aunty Tammy."
"That's right! You're a bad widdle baby girl, and don't you forget it!" She looked thoughtful for a few seconds and then she unexpectedly asked; "What do you tell people, when they ask you your name and how old you are?"

I frowned in confusion before replying. "I tell them - I tell them my name ith Baby Jennie, and I- I'm- I'm thix yearth old," I hesitantly informed her, my cheeks turning pink when I admitted to repeatedly fibbing to strangers.
But Tammy merely nodded in thin-lipped approval and muttered, "Fair enough. That is your name, and you could certainly pass for a six-year-old. But what do you tell them when they ask you why you're wearing nappies?" She leaned forward and cruelly ripped my dum-dums from my pouting pink lips, making me cry out in pain as my drool-covered pacifier bounced wetly against my heaving breast.

Without time to think up a story, I felt my cheeks glowing with shame as I confessed to continually lying to other people. "I- I- I uthually tell them I'm- I'm only wearing nappieth to- to help potty-twain my thithter," I haltingly admitted, lisping badly even without the dummy in my mouth. My big blue eyes were wide and fearful as I self-consciously reached up to wipe away the embarrassing stream of drool trailing down my quivering chin.

"But Baby Jennie! That's not true at all, is it?" Tammy prudishly insisted, scowling and smacking the paddle against her palm with ominous intent. "You told me you can't help it. You said you can't stop your wee-wees from coming out. You can't control yourself - just like a real baby!" I whimpered in shame when she threw my words back in my face with unerring accuracy. I clutched my dum-dums and instinctively pressed the rubber nipple between my trembling lips again. While I noisily sucked on the soothing rubber teat, Tammy shook her head mournfully, making her short pigtails dance and sway. She paused to let the effect of her heartless reminders sink in.

Despite the tears of shame welling in my eyes, I feebly tried to protest. "But I- But-"
"You're just a helpless little baby, aren't you?" Tammy cruelly cut me off. "You're a helpless, bad widdle baby girl, aren't you?" she insisted, reinforcing the message.
"Yeth Aunty Tammy, I'm a helpweth, bad widdle baby girl," I automatically whispered in reply, my blurry eyes locked on the menacing implement she continued smacking against her palm.
"You're a dirty, helpless, bad widdle baby girl who can't stop wetting the bed and pooing her panties! What are you?"
"Yeth Aunty Tammy, I'm a- I'm a- I'm a d-d-dirty, h-h-helpweth, b-b-bad widdle baby girl, and I c-c-can't thtop wetting my b-b-bed and poo-pooing my pantieth!" I stammered. I hiccupped violently when a loud sob caught in my throat.

Tammy ceased slapping the paddle against her palm in that threatening manner and tossed me a victorious smile. She brightly ordered, "Tell Aunty Tammy again why you're wearing nappies, Baby Jennie?"
"B-b-because I'm a helpweth, dirty, b-b-bad widdle baby girl, and I c-c-can't thtop wetting my bed and p-p-poo-pooing my pantieth!" I wailed, the hot tears of shame rolling down my humiliated red cheeks.

"That's right! What a clever widdle baby girl!" Tammy praised me like I was a precocious toddler, and then she scowled darkly at me again. "You really can't stop wetting the bed or pooing your panties, can you? That's the honest truth. That's why you need to wear nappies, Baby Jennie - and that's what you'll tell anyone who asks you from now on. Understand?"
"Yeth Aunty Tammy, I underthtand," I sniffled around my dum-dums, and my cheeks blazed crimson when I considered the embarrassment such a humiliating confession might cause me.

Tammy snorted in disgust at the feminine tears trickling down my painted cheeks, and she grabbed one of my bibbies from the change bag. She plucked out my dum-dums and used the white cotton bib to gently clean my snotty top lip and delicately wipe my leaking eyes. "Stop all that sooking!" She carefully dabbed at my eyes again, before grunting, "It's just as well Bonnie used waterproof mascara on you, little girl. Really, you are such a sooky cry-baby! You're worse than my baby sister!" I sucked back my sniffles and blinked away the remaining tears, stung by the unfair comparison with her toddler sister, even as I surreptitiously caressed the warm tenting front of my crinkling baby panties.

When Bonnie strode back into the room she looked completely different. Her bust-length chestnut mane was tied up on top of her head in a severe bun several inches high, and appeared slicker and darker somehow. Her pencilled eyebrows appeared thicker and longer, arching out menacingly towards her temples. The heavy black eye-liner bordering both her upper and lower lids made her look much older, despite her long doll-like lashes. Her full lips were painted dark crimson and heavily outlined with an even darker pencil, reminding me of her elderly boss at the salon, Mrs Worth. Bonnie had used a lot of foundation, too, so her whole complexion looked darker and… more mature, somehow. She looked old… at least thirty! In addition, she was wearing her mother's mid-thigh black leather skirt and her gleaming black knee-high boots, with the two-inch platform sole and the scary spiked, six-inch heels.

There was an unbuttoned, oyster-grey, long-sleeved silk blouse loosely draped around Bonnie's broad shoulders. It flapped open to reveal her enormous brown bosom, proudly upthrust by an outrageously low-cut black satin, half-cup bra. Her erect russet nipples threatened to spill over the top of the daring demi-cups with her every powerful stride, and the clever underwiring caused a deep entrancing cleavage between the bouncing, bulging mounds of woman flesh. I gasped in wonder at her abundant feminine pulchritude, and reluctantly released my grip on my pulsating clittie when she swiftly approached me. Tammy stepped back to admire the towering vision in satin, silk and leather.

I was stunned when the tall teenager squatted before me and leaned forward, till her surging meaty breasts almost escaped the confines of her low-cut bra. She grabbed one of my freshly-pierced earlobes, making me squeal more in alarm than pain. My dum-dums popped out and tumbled wetly to my trembling breast. Bonnie gripped both my tender lobes and gently pulled me closer. I awkwardly scrambled forward onto my hands and knees until she was pressing my face between her heavenly-soft, fleshy melons. I inhaled her delightful musky perfume and felt her warm breast flesh caress my blushing pink cheeks. My rock-hard clittie surged to greater fullness inside my warm wet nappy, and I tentatively kissed one quivering bosom.

Bonnie tittered at my submissive act of worship before she tilted my head back by my sensitive earlobes. She released one ear but kept a firm hold of the other when she demanded icily; "Have you been behaving yourself for Tammy, you bad widdle baby girl?"
I shrieked fearfully, "Yeth! Yeth Aunty Bonnie!" She gave me that shark-like grin so reminiscent of her mother's, and then her tone and manner altered abruptly, like a 'Jekyll and Hyde' split-personality.

"Good girl," Bonnie lovingly crooned. With her free left hand she tugged down the shiny left bra cup, till her straining erect nipple popped free. "But for the remainder of the afternoon, Baby Jennie, I want you to call me 'Mama'."
"Mumma?" I repeated in befuddlement, trying to tear my mesmerised gaze from where her left thumb and forefinger were pinching and pulling on the exposed thimble-sized nipple, teasing the russet cap to greater tumescence.

"No, Baby Jennie. Say 'Ma-ma'!" Bonnie playfully demanded. When Tammy gave her palm a crisp warning smack, I glanced from the unspoken threat of the paddle to Bonnie's heavily made-up face in terrified confusion.
"Ma-ma?" I copied her uncertainly. In response she dragged my face closer to the swollen russet bud she was squeezing, till my puffy pink lips began to instinctively pucker in anticipation.

Bonnie smiled down wolfishly at my eagerly upturned face and she nodded in approval. "That's right, baby; 'Ma-ma'." She made it sound like she was one of those talking dollies calling for its mummy after you pulled the string, and she insisted; "Say it like that, baby girl. Go on! Say 'Ma-ma'!"
"Ma-ma," I obediently mimicked her childish doll-like tone in my squeaky high-pitched voice, and both girls grinned in apparent delight.
"That's right, Baby Jennie! Ma-ma! What a clever baby girl!" I knew I was straining forward to suck her erect nipple into my greedy mouth, but the fingers grasping my shiny diamond stud earring remorselessly kept me in place.

"Ah-ah-ah! Say Ma-ma a few more times, and then you may kiss Mama's nipple. Not suck," she warned me seriously, her tone suddenly low and threatening, before turning syrupy once more. "Just sweet kisses on Mama's nip-nips for the moment, baby girl."
"Ma-ma! Ma-ma! Oh! Mmm."
She drew my pouting lips away, and her tone became saccharine and cloying again when she praised me and commanded, "Good girl! What a good baby girl for Mama! Say it again, Baby Jennie."
"Ma-ma! Ma-ma! Ma-ma! Mmmm!"

It was almost impossible to restrain myself! I so wanted to suck that tempting warm morsel of woman flesh deep into my mouth, but after each soft lingering kiss, Bonnie pushed me away again. "Mama! Mama! Oh Mama!" I moaned in despair when she smiled heartlessly and forced my dum-dums back between my sulky pouting lips. Bonnie carefully tucked her huge breast back inside the black satin demi-cup and she stood erect on her scary high heels. She laughed disparagingly at my dismayed expression as she buttoned the oyster-grey silk blouse over her flat brown tummy.

"You can have a lovely suck on Mama's titties later, my little Baby Jennie - provided you can remember your lessons." Bonnie left the top few buttons boldly unfastened to reveal her expansive cleavage, but from the way the shiny grey material snugly hugged her voluptuous curves beneath, I suspected the expensive too-tight silk top belonged to my Aunty Cath, as well. The grinning buxom beauty fingered the string of glistening pearls clasped like an expensive choker around her long slender neck, and asked, "Well, girls? What do you think?" Bonnie proficiently twirled around on her towering high heels and assumed a dominant pose; chin high, tummy tucked in and bosom proudly out-thrust, with her booted feet spread wide and her clenched fists on her broad womanly hips. She waited expectantly for our reaction. I sucked harder on my mouth-filling dummy teat, uncertain how I should respond to this apparition of female dominance.

"Gosh, Bonnie - I mean, Mama - you look fantastic!" Tammy threw the punishment paddle on the bed and clapped her hands in delight, and Bonnie strode over to her and impulsively hugged the gorgeous blonde. The top of Tammy's head didn't even reach Bonnie's chin, due to her skyscraper-high boots. Instead the small blonde carefully pressed her pretty painted face against my cousin's lush silk-clad bosom, and hugged her tightly around her curvaceous bottom.

Bonnie chuckled in delight and wrapped her long arms all the way around the slender girl's tiny waist, reaching down to possessively rub Tammy's bulging, diaper-clad derriere with her broad right palm. "This is going to be so much fun!" She gave Tammy’s big bum a few crisp affectionate swats through her tartan skirt. My clittie jerked at the familiar ‘whoomph’ sound of her cupped palm striking those packed plastic panties.

Tammy squealed like an excited schoolgirl when Bonnie released her grip, and she turned towards where I still cowered in the corner on my knees. "I've been teaching Baby Jennie how to respond if she's asked any questions at the park," she informed my smirking cousin. "Ask her why she's wearing nappies, Mama. Go on. Ask her!"

Bonnie turned to me with a malicious grin and demanded, "Stand up and look at Mama, little girl. Why are you wearing nappies, Baby Jennie?"
I glanced at Tammy's warning expression and grabbing the walls for support, I awkwardly clambered to my feet. I weakly mumbled around my dum-dums, "Becauthe I can't thtop wetting the bed and poo-pooing in my pantieth, Aunty Bon- Ma-ma."

Bonnie smiled in delight at my cowed humiliated response, and then her smile vanished and she nodded severely in agreement. "That's right, you dirty little girl! How could I ever forget!"
"What are you, Baby Jennie? Tell Mama," Tammy prompted, waving the paddle at me in warning.
"I- I- I'm a dirty, helpweth, bad widdle baby girl, Mama," I snivelled in response, unable to look at either of my cackling captors.

Bonnie picked up the change bag from the floor and held it open for Tammy to toss the paddle inside, and then the imposing teen announced, "Come on, girls! Mama wants to take her little ones for a lovely walk in the sunshine to the park. Let's go!" I thought Tammy might object to being dragged outside wearing nappies, but then I realized; no-one could possibly know she was heavily diapered under her baggy plaid skirt. Even I couldn't tell, and I knew she was wearing a thick cloth nappy and puffy white baby panties under her demure tartan outfit. But when people saw me in my too-short toddler frock and bulging shiny PVC baby panties… Everybody would know!

"No Mama! I don't wanna," I plaintively whined. I edged away in fear when Bonnie frowned and reached into the pink-checked vinyl bag. But I was already backed into the corner, and there was nowhere to run when my snickering cousin withdrew my pink leather toddler harness and the matching baby reins from the vinyl change bag.

To be continued in chapter 14.
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Baby Jennie

Synopsis; Bonnie takes Tammy and Baby Jennie to the park. Baby Jennie is forced to play with the pre-schoolers in the playground while Bonnie slips a hand inside Tammy's nappy. Baby Jennie meets a kindred spirit and endures a humiliating public nappy change.

Chapter 14. Big Babies at the Park

A few minutes later I found myself stumbling into the bright sunshine in front of Aunty Cath's house. Tammy clutched the handles of my pink leather baby reins, and the horrible matching toddler harness was tightly buckled around my trembling torso. My dum-dums dangled by the short pink plastic chain clipped to the chest strap, the humiliating baby soother bouncing lightly against my tummy between the reins. There were four fresh, bright-red handprints on the backs of my legs; two on each tender upper thigh.

After smacking me into submission in her bedroom, Bonnie growled crossly at me; "Oh stop all that snivelling, Baby Jennie - or I'll give you something to really cry about!" She tidied up my make-up while Tammy secured my harness and reins in place, and then they dragged me outside.

While Bonnie locked the front door behind us, Tammy pulled me down the front path towards the sidewalk and used the pink reins to haul me closer. She leaned down and hissed into my startled face, "You idiot! Don't you realise that by sooking and sulking and carrying-on like a big sissy baby, you're only attracting more attention to yourself - and me? Pull in that bottom lip Baby Jennie, before you trip over it! Why don't you get smart and try to act like a normal little girl? Then people won't pay you any real attention - you'll see."

Bonnie joined us on the footpath, carrying her brown leather handbag over her shoulder and my pink gingham change bag in one hand. She suggested to her sneering blonde friend, "You keep hold of your baby sister's reins for Mama, little Tammy, and show Baby Jennie the way to the park like a good little girl. Okay?"

The tall young woman towered over both of us, but Tammy only beamed sunnily up at her and obediently replied, "Yes Mama." She danced along the sidewalk towards the park in her gleaming black Maryjanes, dragging me along by the reins attached to the D-rings on the chest strap of my harness. With no choice I shuffled along after her, my swirling chiffon petties rustling noisily as I pondered Tammy's advice.

Without a doubt, I certainly couldn't be mistaken for a thirteen-year-old boy! I suppose it did make sense to act more appropriately for the age and sex I was dressed as, but I was reluctant to let these sadistic sirens think I wanted to be paraded about town like an overgrown baby girl. I resentfully sucked in my protruding bottom lip, and tried to appear as though I wasn't a sulky toddler being dragged down the footpath by her beautiful big sister. I could hear Bonnie's high-heeled boots crisply click-clacking on the pavement close behind me, and I unconsciously waddled faster in my slippery pink ballet flats, instinctively drawing closer to my new 'big sister' for protection.

I noticed that despite her previous taunts, Tammy had adopted that unmistakable wide-legged gait of a toddler wearing thick cloth nappies, although she wasn't as heavily diapered as me. I wondered how badly I must be waddling, too, when Tammy drew to a halt at the first corner. "Good girl, Tammy," Bonnie crooned approvingly, reaching down to give Tammy's plastic-sheathed bottom several affectionate loud swats. The sound of her broad palm crisply smacking the plastic panties concealed under Tammy's flared skirt was both familiar and arousing at the same time. "You must always stop at the corner and wait for a grown-up to help you cross the road. Mustn't you, girls?"
"Yes Mama," Tammy agreed with a heart-melting smile for my bossy cousin. She twirled her slender body like an excited pre-schooler, making her pleated tartan skirt fly daringly high.

"Yeth Mama," I obediently mumbled, feeling my sensitive clittie stiffen inside the warm wet folds of my nappy, watching and waiting hopefully for a glimpse of Tammy's baby panties.
"Hold both the baby's reins in one hand, Tammy, and hold Mama's hand with the other while we cross the road together, sweetie."

In this humiliating fashion we traversed the leafy avenue, and I felt certain that when several cars drove by, each one slowed down to check out the odd tableau our small group made. Two little old ladies came doddering down the sidewalk towards us along the next block, and I grew more and more apprehensive when their hesitant footsteps faltered at our approach. They smiled uncertainly at my infantile appearance, but seemed captivated by the attractive blonde gripping the handles of my pink leather baby reins.

As they drew closer I heard one of the little old ladies muttering to the other, "Yes, beautiful! Both of them." One grey-haired matron sweetly inquired of Tammy; "Look at you, you gorgeous thing! Are you taking your pretty baby sister for a walk to the park, darling?" My smirking babysitter paused in place and nodded enthusiastically, smiling brightly up at the two wrinkled faces without replying. When my leather-clad cousin stepped possessively close, both old ladies had to tilt their heads back and glance up to see the tall young woman's face.

The second old lady commented to Bonnie in a quavering voice; "They certainly are beautiful little girls! Are they both yours?" I smiled shyly at the friendly compliment, unconsciously twirling my body from side to side in childish imitation of Tammy beside me. My floaty baby-pink skirt and frothy petties swirled around me like a can-can dancer's, swishing noisily against the PVC panties underneath with every twist of my padded hips.

"Yes, they're both mine," Bonnie smoothly lied, her heavily made-up face beaming with false pride.
"But you're so young!" The other elderly matron protested in shock, her wrinkled mouth pursing in disapproval. "Surely they can't be yours?"
"Madam, I think I know my own children!" Bonnie stiffly replied, frowning severely with feigned annoyance. "Come along, girls," she sharply ordered us as she stepped away, and I meekly followed the tug of the baby reins.

As I awkwardly shuffled past them, the old women remained frozen in place, blatantly staring at my bulging panty crotch as our little procession passed them by. "That little girl is far too old to be in nappies," one commented snidely, and my tremulous shy smile evaporated.
"Oh I don't know," replied her frail companion. "They grow so big, so fast, these days. She might only be five or six…"
"Still way too old to be wearing diapers and a toddler harness," the irritable old woman haughtily pronounced. She snorted and gave a disparaging shake of her head at the way some mothers mollycoddled their children. She demanded, "Are they going to send her to school in nappies?"

I kept my blushing face downcast and my burning eyes on the bitumen footpath in front of my pink patent ballet slippers. That was one of the problems my parents had faced when I started school at age six. They had threatened to send me to school in nappies if I couldn't learn to control myself. As I remembered the humiliating confrontation in chilling detail, my hand automatically sought out the dummy dangling between the reins. Without thinking I slipped the comforting amber teat between my pursed lips and began to earnestly suck.

"Come on, Baby Jennie. Let's skip the rest of the way," Tammy childishly suggested in her high clear voice, trying to lighten my despondent mood. I thought she was crazy, but mindful of her earlier advice, I tried to smile like I was enjoying myself. I clumsily skipped along behind the beautiful blonde creature who held me captive, trying to keep some slack in the reins so I wouldn't accidentally fall on my face. I noticed the rear of Tammy's red plaid skirt flapping noisily against her bulging plastic-sheathed bottom, and it flipped up higher with every second or third skip. I wondered if she was unintentionally going to give me a free panty show and stiffened in excitement. I slurped on my dum-dums and tried to ignore my own humid wet nappy flopping gently against my sensitive crotch, and the noisy rustling of my bouncing petties and crinkling baby panties.

With my eyes riveted to Tammy's flapping skirt hem, I barely noticed the rest of our journey as we slowly skipped along. Suddenly we were standing across the road from the park, and I could hear bright voices of happy playing children echoing around the leafy surrounds. We patiently waited at the kerbside for Bonnie, who caught up with us a few seconds later and complained, "I can't hurry in these platform boots, girls, so no skipping away from Mama from now on." Despite Tammy's theatrically protruding bottom lip, I gave an inward sigh of relief. I knew I looked like a complete sissy baby, but behaving like a silly six-year-old girl in public was so demeaning! After Bonnie checked the road was clear and told us to cross, we set off in the same manner as before. On the other side, we strolled up the leaf-strewn path towards the kiddie playground.

The fenced-in toddler section was concealed behind a low grassy knoll amongst the tall eucalyptus trees, and we walked along the pathway towards the sounds of high-pitched squeals and excited laughter. There were about twenty kids playing inside the low steel meshwork fence, and there must have been a dozen parents and carers - mostly mummies and nannas - sitting on the benches or at the picnic tables scattered outside the perimeter. There was an assortment of swings, roundabouts and climbing equipment inside the spacious sun-dappled enclosure, plus a series of interconnecting slides and tunnels made from huge, brightly-coloured plastic tubes mounted in a sandpit in the middle.

I warily watched the playing children as Tammy followed Bonnie towards an unoccupied picnic table nearby, dragging me along behind her. I remembered I was still sucking my dum-dums, and hastily spat out the baby soother hopefully before anyone noticed, my cheeks blushing rosily with embarrassment. "Mama, I think I need to do a wee-wee," Tammy loudly announced, and Bonnie turned back to her older charge with a pleased smile.

I didn't notice the little red-haired boy inside the enclosure intently watching us. He was sitting alone on top of one of the yellow plastic pipes closest to us. He was oblivious to the group of smaller children crawling through the tunnels below and around him and yelling happily to each other, but his ears pricked up when he heard Tammy's bold statement. He stared at the beautiful blonde who clasped my baby reins in one tiny fist. His eyes went wide when he caught sight of the big baby girl waddling along behind her, trapped in the pink leather toddler harness. When Tammy paused in place to shift from one foot to the other, he slid down from the high plastic tube and shuffled towards our group. My eyes were fixed on the big puffy bottom belonging to the gorgeous blonde standing in front of me - especially when she crouched forward slightly, holding her tummy and dancing about in that obvious tell-tale manner. I watched in fascination as Tammy urgently pressed her free hand over the front of her red plaid skirt while she performed her potty-dance. She pleaded, “Mama! I need to go!”

"Good girl, Tammy! But Mama wants you to try and hold your water for a minute while she gets the baby settled in the playground. Okay, sweetie? You be a good little girl and hold it for Mama." When Tammy anxiously bit her plump pink bottom lip and nodded uncertainly, Bonnie dumped her bags on the vacant picnic table next to us and ordered, "Stay here and look after Mama's bags, sweetie. I'll be back in a minute. Come on, Baby Jennie. Come with Mama, baby girl."

Bonnie took the reins from Tammy's trembling fingers and curled them in one meaty fist. She led me waddling towards the entrance nearest the swings and unlocked the child-proof gate. She opened it wide for me, cooing loud words of encouragement. I toddled in ahead of her with foot-dragging reluctance. There was a group of half a dozen girls clustered around two pretty girls sitting motionless on the nearby swings, and they all stopped talking and turned to stare at me while Bonnie slowly unbuckled and removed my shameful toddler harness. None of the girls looked much past kindergarten age, yet when they gazed at me, contempt was clearly etched on their sweet young faces.

I surreptitiously observed the silently watching girls from the corner of my eye while Bonnie unclipped my dummy from the harness and reattached it to the lacy collar of my floaty pink frock. My towering leather-clad cousin spun me around, and then she crouched down to rearrange the lace-edged hem of my toddler frock over the mass of chiffon petties swirling underneath.

"How wet are you, baby girl?” Bonnie demanded. “Let Mama check, sweetie." Her booming voice was pitched loud enough for everyone in the enclosure to hear, and my cheeks blazed with fresh humiliation. If any of the children surrounding us weren't already certain I was a diapered big baby before, there was certainly no doubt now. I shuddered with embarrassment when I realised she intended checking my nappy right there and then, while everyone's eyes were glued on us. Bonnie wanted to make this outing to the park as mortifying as possible for me, I realised - and it was working!

She turned me to face her again and raised my pink dress and frothy white petties with one hand, and slipped her other hand underneath. I automatically assumed that childish tell-tale stance of a diapered toddler being checked, leaning my shoulders right back and helpfully poking my padded groin out towards her so she could more easily inspect my sagging nappy crotch. I could feel her long fingernails peeling aside one of the tight elastic leg bands of my crinkling PVC panties, and then her finger poked at the soggy warm cloth drooping between my thighs. "Ooo! What a wet baby girl you are already! Mama will have to change that wet nappy soon, Baby Jennie."

Despite the threat implied by her sweetly-spoken words, I anxiously glanced back over my shoulder. I saw a delegation of two girls approaching us from the group at the swings. The pretty girls looked about five or six years old, and they were dressed in similar Barbie t-shirts over their blue denim shorts, plain white socks and sneakers - making me feel horribly overdressed in my pastel-pink frock and billowing chiffon petticoat, frilly anklet socks and candy-pink ballet flats.

"There you are, Baby Jennie," Bonnie cooed in smug satisfaction, as she fluffed my petties and skirt hem back out over my droopy nappy, smiling wolfishly as she watched the two little girls skip closer. I found myself checking my outfit and nervously smoothing out the front of my dress over my bobbing petties, as if I could cover the humiliating Barbie-pink wetproof panties bulging out underneath.

When I heard the skipping girls pause right behind me, I slowly turned around to confront them. They were both staring at my sagging panty crotch when I timidly faced them. With obvious effort the taller dark-haired girl tore her gaze from my heavily padded groin to look me in the eyes. I knew my cheeks were turning pink under her frank inquisitive stare, and I shyly dropped my gaze to the satin bows on my pink patent shoes, peeping out so sweetly from under the flared hem of my flounced frock. Bonnie grinned in malicious anticipation and stepped back holding my pink leather toddler harness and baby reins, but my cruel captor remained within earshot so she could eavesdrop on my embarrassing interaction with the little girls.

"Hello," the taller girl greeted me, smiling in a friendly manner despite her calculating grey eyes. "You're new here, aren't you?" When I meekly nodded but remained silent, she commented, "You're really pretty. Are you wearing make-up?" I timidly bit my swollen pink-painted bottom lip and shyly glanced up at her from under my long black eyelashes, and silently nodded again. She said with a hint of envy, "You're lucky! My Mummy only lets me wear make-up for special occasions. I'm Janice, and this is my friend, Mary. She's only five-and-a-half, but I'm nearly six. What's your name?"

I stole at glance at my domineering cousin, who only smiled broadly at me. Bonnie nodded enthusiastically like a loving concerned parent. I realised I was going to have to respond to the girl's polite question, and I sighed inwardly as I supplied the answers I knew would meet with brutal Bonnie's approval.

"Hello Mawy, hello Janithe. My name ith Baby Jennie, and I'm thix yearth old," I replied, feeling my pink-painted cheeks suffuse with warmth. My lisping voice came out as a nervous high-pitched squeak, which I'm sure only made my childish claims sound more convincing. I wrapped my tiny fist around the pink dummy dangling from my breast, partly trying to conceal the embarrassing symbol of babyhood but mostly clutching it for emotional support.

"Hello Baby Jennie. You have a dummy," the smaller blonde girl named Mary loudly observed, her high clear voice ringing with disdain. "Only babies suck dummies," she cuttingly commented, making my blushing pink cheeks turn a rosier hue. I bit my puffy bottom lip in shame and nodded helplessly in agreement. She was right. Only babies suck dummies; but I wanted to suck my dum-dums right now!

"Are you wearing a nappy?" Janice inquired. She boldly reached over and lifted the front of my pink frock and petties with one hand, and she checked for herself before I could reply. She rudely poked my sagging wet nappy through the shiny Barbie-pink baby panties, discovering my shameful saturated state. "You are wearing a nappy! And you're wet through, too!" Her astonished expression and her friend's bemused giggles told me a diapered big baby girl was an uncommon sight in this playground. Janice turned around and yelled to her watching friends; "You're right, Susie! She is wearing a nappy, and she's wet, too!" When she turned back to me, she grinned callously at my crimson cheeks and demanded, "Why are you still wearing nappies, if you're six?"

I anxiously glanced over at Bonnie. Her victorious smile seemed plastered across her heavily painted face. She nodded encouragingly to me again. The blood was thrumming in my ears and my face was burning with shame. I was so embarrassed, I wanted the grass to open up and swallow me. When my silent prayers for an earthquake remained unanswered, I unthinkingly pressed my dum-dums between my puffy painted lips for reassurance. I haltingly responded in the way my cruel cousin required. "I- I- I'm a hewpweth, dirty, bad widdle baby girl, and I can't thtop wetting the bed or poo-pooing my pantieth," I snivelled around my pacifier. A film of shameful tears clouded my eyes making the world look soft and blurry for a few seconds.

There was relative silence for few brief moments. I noisily sucked my dummy teat for comfort while the girls digested my humiliating admission. When Mary began to giggle uncontrollably, the rush of blood to my head was so severe I felt I was in danger of fainting. The dark depths of unconsciousness would have been preferable to the next few mortifying moments. The smaller girl turned and ran back to her friends on the swings, shouting for the whole world to hear; "Her name is Baby Jennie and she's six years old! She's a bed-wetter and a panty-pooper! And she still sucks a dummy, too!"

The watching girls broke into fits of giggles. Even the boys playing on the roundabouts on the other side of the swings paused momentarily to laugh snidely and shout catcalls in my direction. Janice inspected my cowed stance and crimson cheeks, slowly running her cold grey eyes up from my candy-pink Princess slippers and frilly anklet socks, to the halo of blonde curls bouncing around my bowed head. Her eyes narrowed at the pink dummy bobbing in my mouth, and then drifted back down to the drooping crotch of my shiny pink baby panties. She turned her face away from me to disdainfully shake her head at her laughing jeering friends. "What a big wet baby girl you are," she scornfully announced, before she turned on her heel and strode away in disgust.

When Bonnie seemed content I had been suitably humiliated, she stepped closer to me and commanded, "Now you behave like a good widdle girl for Mama, Baby Jennie! Play nicely with the other toddlers in the playground, sweetie. Okay, baby girl?" She turned to glance lustfully at Tammy sitting on the bench seat on the far side of the nearby picnic table, a few metres on the other side of the low mesh fence. The gorgeous blonde was urgently bouncing up and down on her puffy padded rear, writhing desperately with the need to void her straining bladder. "Mama has to go check on your big sister," Bonnie murmured distractedly. She was already striding away from me in her skyscraper-high black boots, her snug black leather skirt clinging like a second skin to her curvaceous big bottom.

Despite the fact that she was the cruel designer of my shameful situation, I frantically raised my sweaty palms in supplication at her retreating back, a tiny squeak of fear escaping my constricted throat. Suddenly I felt terrified, isolated and alone in a playground full of much younger children. Too embarrassed to look around and see the scornful faces I knew must be watching me, I kept my humiliated gaze on the patchy grass around my gleaming pink slippers, sucking noisily on my dum-dums in a desperate search for comfort. I shuffled towards the mesh fence nearer the picnic table where Tammy was sitting facing me - as if staying close to 'my family' might protect me from the teasing of the other children.

Bonnie was grinning in delight when she tossed my toddler harness and reins on the table, and she plonked down on the bench seat beside Tammy. She picked up the huge pink gingham diaper bag and placed it on the wooden seat on the other side of the gorgeous blonde, as though to shield her shy little girl's slender body from everyone's gaze. I hurriedly sat on the grass on my squishy wet bottom so I was mostly out of Bonnie's sight. I pretended to be fascinated by an ant crawling along the ground, hoping to avoid any more humiliating confrontations with the other children. When I glanced up at the two teenagers to see if they were still checking on me, I realised I was looking under the top of the picnic table. I could see both seated girls from the waist down. I admired the sleek black knee-high boots of my voluptuous cousin, and the way her snug leather skirt kept her fleshy thighs pressed demurely together.

Bonnie leaned closer to whisper in Tammy's left ear, but I couldn't hear what my cousin said. She reached down between the smaller girl's lithe brown legs with her large right hand, and gently slapped Tammy's bare thighs apart. I sucked hungrily on my dummy teat as the beautiful blonde spread her knees daringly wide. Her flared red tartan skirt bunched and fell between her splayed thighs, unfortunately concealing her infantile underwear from my fascinated gaze. Tammy daintily brought her inverted feet together until the thin leather soles of her shiny black patent Maryjanes were touching, the elaborate white lace sock frills dancing attractively around her slender ankles. Bonnie slid forward and her tight leather skirt rode up higher on her splendid thighs. As she leaned her head closer to the shivering girl beside her, she spread her booted feet wide. Her fleshy thighs drifted open and closed, revealing tantalizing glimpses of the shiny crotch of her cream nylon panties.

In obedience to Bonnie’s whispered commands, Tammy timorously reached down with her left hand and gathered the hem of her tartan skirt in front. She slowly raised the pleated garment above her waist as though she was performing an erotic striptease, gradually revealing her silken upper thighs and her saggy baggy baby panties. She clutched the hem against her chest with both hands, each palm cupping her compressed breasts. The crotch of her translucent white plastic panties bulged pinkly with the bulk of the cloth nappy trapped between her sleek lower limbs. I watched entranced as Bonnie leaned even closer to her friend and stroked her trembling tummy. She covertly slipped the fingers of her right hand inside the snug waistband of Tammy's crinkling pilchers.

The smaller girl seemed to suck in her tummy and arch her back slightly, opening a narrow gap between her flat brown stomach and the tightly-pinned nappy for Bonnie to slip her whole hand inside. I leaned forward in fascination and found myself on all fours, my wide blue eyes zeroed in on the intriguing sight concealed from everyone else's view under the table. Without thinking, I began to crawl like a baby towards the low cyclone mesh fence separating me from Mama and Tammy, forgetting that everyone in the playground could easily see the seat of my bulging, shiny pink PVC panties poking out from under my frothy white petticoats.

I remained on my knees when I reached the perimeter fence, pressing my face against the wire mesh. I clutched the steel strands for support and rested my forehead on the backs of my hands. I was close enough to hear Bonnie lovingly murmur, "It's okay, sweetie. You can let go now, little Tammy. Mama’s got you, baby. Your nappy and plastic panties will keep everything safe inside, I promise. Go on, little girl. Show Mama how you wet that nappy…."

"Oh Mama," Tammy softly moaned, her gorgeous face scrunching with effort. "I'm trying! Only I'm not sure I can now, Mama, with your fingers-"
"Shh! Shhh! It's alright, baby girl." Bonnie soothed her like a loving mother. "Shhh baby. Mama's here, and everything is alright! Okay? You just concentrate on doing a wee-wee in your nappy for Mama." She coaxed her gorgeous little friend in syrupy baby tones, "Try and pretend you're like, sitting on the potty. You know? Go on baby. Do your wee-wees for Mama. It's alright, you can do it."

I could faintly see Bonnie's moving hand inside the thickly padded crotch of Tammy's pink nappy, her fingers dancing over Tammy’s steamy cleft. The smaller girl squirmed and quietly groaned. I risked raising my head to peek over the top of the wide wooden picnic table, and cautiously checked the preoccupied teenagers weren't looking in my direction. Bonnie slid along the bench closer to Tammy, and she had her heavily made-up face turned down to watch the struggling blonde teen's panty crotch.

Tammy's eyes were scrunched closed and she was biting her plump pink bottom lip, screwing up her gorgeous flushed face in concentration. I still thought she looked beautiful, even when she was making her potty-face. I suddenly realised I was wetting my nappy in sympathy with the naughty girl who was trying so hard to make wee-wees in her nappy for her Mama. "Oh Mama! I think - Mama, I think it's coming!" Tammy quietly gasped, her big brown eyes flying wide.

Even as the deliciously hot stream finished pouring out of me, my clittie was growing thicker and harder inside my wonderfully warm, soggy wet nappy. I ducked my head back down and anxiously pressed my face to the wire mesh once more to stare at the girls' crotches, unwittingly poking out my big diapered bum for all the world to see, my shiny Barbie-pink wetproof panties glistening attractively in the brilliant sunshine. I gasped in arousal around my dum-dums and let go of the fence with my right hand. After I steadied my trembling upper body, I reached down to cup the throbbing erection tenting out the front of my slick warm baby panties.

"Good girl," Bonnie purred encouragingly in Tammy's shell-like ear. "Go on, little Tammy. Show Mama how you do wee-wees in your nappy. Go on, baby. That's it… Ooh! Good girl!"
"Oh Mama!" Tammy softly squealed, and I could see her smooth sculpted thighs trembling. Then she went still for a moment, and her body seemed to sag as she relaxed completely. "Oh Mama! I- I'm doing it! I'm wetting my nappy!" She sounded astonished, delighted, and excited - all at the same time.
"Yes baby! Good girl! What a good little girl you are for Mama," Bonnie lovingly praised her. My cousin’s deep throaty voice telegraphed her sexual arousal.
"Oh Mama! It's so hot on my kitten!" Tammy panted in excitement, making my cousin chuckle richly.

"Yes baby. It is, isn't it? So lovely and warm on Mama's hand, too. Mmmm, good girl! What a good baby girl you are for Mama." I watched in awe as Tammy spread her beautiful brown thighs even wider, and I could clearly detect the darker pink tinge of a wet nappy around her groin. A tiny moist spot appeared on the inside of the plastic panties, then another, and soon there was a large wet patch puddling across the wide-stretched crotch of her translucent baby pants. I squeezed my pulsating clittie though my own drenched cloth nappies, revelling in the naughty feelings that threatened to overwhelm me.

"Ooo, what a lovely long wee-wee," Bonnie tenderly murmured. "Mmm, that's a good baby girl, little Tammy. Show Mama how you fill your nappy with hot pee-pee. That's it. Mmm, good girl."
"I really had to go, Mama," I heard Tammy sheepishly admit, before she gave a high girlish giggle. They remained silent for a minute and then Tammy sighed happily. "It keeps coming out, Mama! It feels like I'm going to keep weeing forever!" She giggled childishly again and Bonnie laughed throatily. I could distinctly see my cousin's hand moving beneath the saturated cloth nappy again. "Oh Mama, I think I'm finished…."
"Yes baby, but Mama wants to check inside that little kitten, too. Ooo Baby Tammy! Your little kitten is all wet inside, too!"
"Oh Mama! Yes Mama. Oh! Ooo Mama!" Tammy moaned, and her whole body shuddered momentarily.

I could clearly detect the combination of humiliation and arousal in Tammy's dulcet tones. As I watched she began rocking her diapered hips backwards and forwards, eagerly thrusting her greedy kitten onto the thick fingers Bonnie curled inside her steamy wet opening.

"That's it, baby,” Bonnie urged her. “Open up! Open that naughty kitten nice and wide for Mama," Bonnie firmly instructed, and then her voice turned syrupy again. "Ohh, good girl! Oh, that's better. Oh yes, baby! Open up nice and wide…” Bonnie seductively crooned in the petite blonde's ear. “Mmmm, what a wet little baby girl you are, Tammy, inside and out! Such a hot wet nappy you made for Mama! Mmm, that's right; what a good baby girl!"

I saw Tammy slide further forward on the wooden seat and lean back slightly, allowing my dominant cousin greater access to her dripping wet opening. Bonnie hunched forward in concentration, the hem of her tight black leather skirt sliding up higher towards her hips. She was unaware her plump womanly thighs were splayed indecently wide. My buxom cousin was somewhat preoccupied forcing two pissy-wet fingers deep inside her excited girlfriend's slippery little kitten.

"Oh Mama! Oh Mama! Ohhhh!" Tammy squealed, trying to muffle her voice even as the throes of her orgasm swept her away. My gaze was torn between the tiny wet spot anointing the crotch of Bonnie's snug-fitting cream panties, and the huge wet nappy bulging between Tammy's silken upper thighs.

I rubbed my trembling fingers up and down over the front of my slippery baby panties, thrusting my excited clittie into the warm wet folds of the saturated nappy that cupped my rampant hardness like a moist loving hand. Tammy began bouncing up and down on the soggy seat of her drenched diaper and the rapid thrusting motion of her hips abruptly accelerated. Then she froze, and I could see every muscle in her legs contract violently. She tensed all over for a few long seconds, and then she slowly collapsed forward. Her sweaty forehead came to rest on the smooth wooden table top, her little blonde pigtails trembling with reaction.

I was startled to feel someone unexpectedly poking and patting my nappy bottom. I snapped my head around to find a grubby little red-haired boy standing close behind me, leaning down to run his palm over the seat of my shiny pink panties. I yanked my hand away from my pulsating clittie in alarm, my face burning at being caught on my knees, playing with myself so publicly.

The boy looked to be about five or six years old. He was wearing a badly-stained, sky-blue collared t-shirt, the tails hanging out untidily over his steel-grey shorts. His feet were bare and dirty, and his grime-encrusted toenails were desperately in need of a trim. When he continued to inquisitively slide his hand between my bowed legs, I gasped in astonishment, momentarily too stunned to move away from the stranger's palm erotically cupping my excited shaft. He lifted and pressed my thrilling wet nappy against my throbbing hard clittie and held it there for a few moments, as if assessing the warm wet weight of my soggy swaddling.

I defensively rolled away from him to sit with my back against the mesh fence, placing my pink slippers flat on the grass and frowning in confusion at his unwanted approach. "Hey!" I shrilly complained, as my petties swirled and swished femininely around my padded hips. "Thtop it!" I cried, unsuccessfully trying to press my bare thighs together like a shy little girl. Unfortunately, my prudish actions merely compressed the saturated nappies around my straining erection, until the excess urine was squeezed out of the drenched cloth.

The warm overflow trickled distractingly around my ball sack and between my tender botty cheeks, soaking into the rear of my thick thirsty nappies. Some wetness even escaped the tight elastic leg bands of my PVC panties, dampening the cotton lace frills. I couldn't force my knees together because of the bulk of dripping-wet cloth trapped between my thighs, no matter how hard I tried. The closest I could clench them was a hand-span apart, and as soon as I stopped struggling, my knees flopped helplessly wide again.

"You wet your nappieth," the cheeky boy piped up, squatting down to crudely stare between my wide-splayed thighs. His knees were dirty and there were small faded bruises all over his legs, barely visible beneath a thin layer of grime. "It'th all warm," he noted with a gap-toothed smile, and he leaned forward and patted my bulging crotch with his filthy palm. I brushed his inquisitive paw away and protectively cupped both hands over my soggy groin, pressing my hot stiff clittie harder against my tummy. When he smiled conspiratorially at me, I could see his was missing his four front teeth on top. He had short, untidy, carroty-red hair and a grubby face full of freckles. His big brown eyes looked sly and full of mischief.

"Do you like it?" His question caught me by surprise. I turned up my nose in revulsion when he began to explore his right nostril with his dirty right index finger. "I like to wet my panth," he quietly informed me in lisping nasal tones. He continued deeply probing his proboscis, till I feared his head might cave in. "It feelth nithe," he lisped toothlessly.

I lowered my eyes from his filthy grinning face in disgust. That's when I noticed the dark half-moon patch around the crotch of the crouching boy's grey shorts. There were tell-tale dark wet streaks down the insides of both pants' legs. He was a pants-wetter - like me! When I sniffed, I could detect a faint hint of stale urine wafting over from his direction. Even as I examined his damp groin more carefully, I saw a small yellow stream bubbling out through the grey cotton material stretched tautly between his little legs, darkening the damp patches with fresh wetness. Moisture spread across his seat, and then amber fluid began to slowly drip onto the grass between his spread feet.

He noticed the direction of my intense gaze and reached down with his unoccupied left hand. He cupped his dripping groin, collecting some of the warm golden liquid in his palm before letting it trickle through his fingers. "Mmm! Warm! Mmm," he mumbled in pleasure, rubbing and pressing his dripping hand between his legs and then up over his dribbling peenie. He nervously glanced around to ensure that his naughty activities had passed unobserved.

"I love wetting my panth," he shyly confessed. He rubbed his peenie harder through his pissy-wet shorts and smiled happily at me. My throbbing clittie pulsated with arousal under my clutching hands even as my top lip curled in a disdainful sneer, mostly hidden beneath the wide pink guard of my dum-dums.

And then I realised - who was I to sneer? I was no better than this little grub - except I looked and smelled like a pretty baby girl, while he looked and smelled like a filthy little boy. For a fleeting instant I was grateful to my pushy talented cousin for dressing me so prettily and making me up so beautifully. I felt confident no one in the park would recognise me in my frilly baby outfit, with my gorgeous curly hair and attractive, feminised features. "You - you should be wearing nappieth," I squeaked, and his cheeky smile grew broader.

"Like you, you mean?" He asked pointedly, nodding at the sagging wet crotch of my nappy. He removed the finger embedded in his nose and examined the tip for anything edible caught under the filthy blackened nail. No luck. I blushed rosily but nodded, sucking harder on my dum-dums in embarrassment. "My Mummy won't let me," he told me, and his smile turned suddenly sad. "I wish I could wear proper nappieth like you," he admitted wistfully, his naughty hand still caressing his sensitive wet groin. "Then I could pee in them whenever I liked. I could even poop in them," he added, and I thought I detected a note of longing in his low excited voice.

I found myself nodding in agreement with his infantile statements, even as I realised it was wrong and dirty to poop and pee in your panties… But I was a baby, wasn't I? I was wearing nappies and proper baby panties, so it was okay for me to lose control. Wasn't it? No one expected me to remain clean and dry. It's not my fault. I'm just a helpless widdle baby girl - aren't I? The boy inhaled deeply and I thought he was about to loudly sigh with regret, but he held his breath until his cheeks puffed out and turned red. He closed his eyes and a dreamy expression crept across his flushed features. His whole body tensed, then relaxed. He slowly exhaled, opened his brown eyes wide, and cast me a secretive smile. Then he glanced down pointedly between his legs, below where his hand still caressed his stiffening wet peenie.

I instinctively followed the direction of his gaze, and my delicate plucked eyebrows crawled up my forehead when I realised what he was doing. This naughty little boy was doing a poo-poo in his pants, right in front of me! I could see the bulge sticking out the seat of his pants. Even as I watched, he slid his hand from his stiff peenie down between his legs, fingering the firm log growing in his bum crack. My thoughts were interrupted when the dirty boy abruptly looked up behind me and his smug expression faltered. I tilted my chin up to see my buxom cousin leaning over the fence behind me, her shark-like smile so reminiscent of her mother's.

"Have you made a new friend, Baby Jennie?" Bonnie playfully asked, before frowning severely and commenting in derision; "Hmm. I see your little friend can't control himself, either." I guiltily snatched my paws away from my throbbing clittie, but before I could respond, there was a loud screech of alarm from nearby.

"Steven! What are you doing? Steven, stop touching yourself down there!" I whipped my head around towards the boy to see the smile vanish from his freckled face. He tore his damp hand from between his legs with a guilty start. With crestfallen features he turned towards the shouting woman hurrying towards us inside the kiddie enclosure, whom I naturally assumed was his mother.

She was probably in her late twenties, and looked harried and annoyed as she rapidly approached us, her curly brown hair an untidy bird's nest around her bobbing head. The plump woman was dressed in a pair of loose black slacks and an old red t-shirt that looked a little worse for wear, and her once-grey sneakers were almost black with grime. "Steven!" she snapped in annoyance, tossing aside her cigarette butt without bothering to extinguish it. "Stand up and come here to Mummy!"

The dirty little boy reluctantly stood and turned to face his irate mother, although he kept one hand protectively cupped over the tenting front of his pissy pants. I could now see there was a big lump clearly bulging out the seat of his wet grey shorts. As I watched, he surreptitiously reached behind his back with his right hand, and he ran his palm over his dripping seat. He slid his fingers into the damp crack where the wet shorts hugged his bottom, sliding down until they met the hot poo-poo parcel wedged moistly between his cheeks.

He fondly caressed the solid moist log as he complained in a loud whine, "I wathn't doing nuffin', Mummy!" But his wicked little fingers continued to squeeze and press the hot lump of fresh excrement deeper into his bum crack, making sure there would be lots of squishy brown mess for his Mummy to clean up later.

She smacked away the hand he had covering his groin and frowned severely. "Oh Steven! You've wet your pants again!" The woman complained, shaking her head in dismay. I found myself thinking, 'He's done a lot more than that!' The small boy ducked his head and shuffled his bare feet in disgrace as his mother loudly chastised him. "You bad little boy! Come here!" She grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and bent him over, forcibly tilting his head towards the ground. "Let Mummy check your bottom, you naughty boy…. Oh no! Steven! How could you? You've pooped in your pants as well! What are you? A complete baby? Why didn't you come and tell Mummy you needed to use the toilet?" She delivered a couple of stinging swats to his well-presented rear, careful to avoid the dirty hot lump in the middle of his dripping-wet seat. "You're supposed to be five years old, not two! You are a naughty, bad little boy!" The whining child cried out in pain as his cranky mother repeatedly spanked his damp bottom. He tried to dance out of range of her punishing hand, to little effect.

"Some boys just never seem to want to grow up," Bonnie cheerfully commented, smiling and nodding in approval at the way the woman publicly chastised her wayward wet child.
The harassed woman glanced over at us and grumbled sourly, "You got that right."
"If I were you," Bonnie suggested, "I would like, put him back in nappies and baby panties where he belongs."
"What good would that do?"
"Well for a start, it would certainly stop him from making a mess on your floors or furniture, you know? Plus; you could use nappies and sissy baby attire to humiliate him - to shame him into trying to stay dry."

The curly-haired woman gazed down in contempt at the wet nappy bulging between my wide-splayed thighs. I felt my pink cheeks begin to burn with fresh embarrassment. I fruitlessly tried to rearrange my dress and petties to at least partially conceal my shameful infantile underwear. "You mean, like your little girl?" the woman asked with a disdainful sneer, tightly grasping her whimpering son's wrist so he couldn't run away.

"Exactly!" Bonnie heartily agreed from directly behind me. She leaned over, reaching down over the low fence to brush my hands aside from my crotch. She slapped the drenched cloth bunched between my parted thighs, her broad right palm on my tautly-stretched PVC panties making that unmistakable, loud, 'thwack-thwack-thwack' sound, so familiar to all mothers with wet diapered toddlers. I knew my vengeful cousin could tell I was hard as a rock beneath my warm wet nappies. The cruel smile on her face only grew broader when she grabbed my swollen shaft right through my clinging diapers and baby panties. She gave my stiff clittie a few vicious squeezes, making me wince and whimper in pain around my dum-dums.

My cheeks turned scarlet while Bonnie nastily insisted, "Look at my naughty Baby Jennie here. See how ashamed and embarrassed she is?" She released my straining erection and grabbed the ring of my pink pacifier. Her glistening fingers covered my nose while she teasingly wiggled my dum-dums around in my mouth. I could smell Tammy's fresh urine on my cousin's thick fingers, plus a distinct fishy odour I knew had to come from inside her gorgeous girlfriend's recently-satisfied kitten. I inhaled deeply and sucked harder, and bit down on the amber rubber teat to prevent Bonnie stealing my soother. She continued humiliating me. "My wicked little girl is way too old to be wearing nappies, you know? But she knows if she can't stop wetting and pooping her panties, she will be diapered like a useless big baby and dressed in her precious baby-doll frocks, so that her shameful nappies and baby panties are always on display."

My cheeks were blazing by the time Bonnie mercilessly ripped out my dum-dums with her stinky fingers. Before I could squeal a protest, she thrust the dripping teat of my huge pink baby bottle between my lips. She tilted the end up high, so that the watered-down orange juice jetted down my gullet through the enlarged hole in the clear silicon nipple. I urgently gulped and swallowed though a throat thick and tight with shame as Bonnie continued explaining how she was publicly humiliating me for my own good. "Then we take Baby Jennie out wearing a toddler harness and baby reins, and parade her around the neighbourhood so everyone can see what a hopeless, disgusting big baby she really is. It's like, totally embarrassing for her! A few weeks of complete baby treatment, and I'm sure she'll be much more motivated to try and keep her panties - and her bed - dry in future. You know?"

The woman looked doubtful but nodded thoughtfully, as if she was actually considering Bonnie's heartless advice. "I'm not so sure," she muttered uncertainly. She turned to regard the snivelling little boy cowering beside her in his poopy wet pants. Steven was watching me compliantly suckle like a big baby from the bottle teat Bonnie held to my lips. He looked enthralled as his filthy right thumb crept into his mouth, and he began sucking it distractedly. His watching mother smirked at his juvenile behavior and shook her head in disdain.

"If they insist on acting like naughty two-year-olds - then treat them like naughty two-year-olds," Bonnie advised her. She raised the bottom of my baby bottle even higher, so I was forced to tilt my head painfully far back against the mesh fence.

The pink baby bottle had been only half-full of lukewarm juice, and Bonnie gave me a nasty satisfied smile when air noisily sucked back through the nipple as I quickly drained it. "Ooo, what a good baby girl! Such a thirsty baby for Mama, Baby Jennie!" Her words of faux-praise were delivered in a tone brimming with contempt, making me cringe abjectly. She snatched away my empty bottle and tossed it to Tammy, and then turned back to the woman grasping her poopy wet child by the hand.

"If they want to act like big babies - treat them like big babies! And that includes changing their wet or dirty nappies in public," Bonnie resumed lecturing the woman, speaking with total conviction. Her golden eyes glowed with apostolic fervour. "Can you imagine how embarrassing that must be for an older child? How humiliated they must feel? Oh, and speaking of which… Come here to Mama, Baby Jennie. It's time to change that wet, wet nappy, sweetheart!"

I turned to stare up at my overbearing cousin in horror, but her expression was deadly serious. She held out her silk-clad arms in invitation. "Stand up, baby girl, and come here to Mama." She curled her fingers invitingly at me as I shakily clambered to my feet. When I turned to face her to stridently object, she slipped her hands under my armpits and simply lifted me bodily over the low mesh fence. I squealed in alarm, unaware that my shrill cry drew every eye in the enclosure towards our little group. Even the parents and carers scattered outside the fence turned to stare at us. "Why don't you bring your little Steven over to watch while I change my Baby Jennie's nappy on the table here," Bonnie cunningly suggested. She forced my dum-dums back between my puffy pink lips to muffle my squeaking protests.

My hard clittie started to soften immediately in fright. I shuddered at the humiliation of being exposed as a disgusting, dirty little boy - like Steven. "It could be very educational for both of them," the towering beauty advised the hesitant woman with a sadistic smile. Bonnie roughly dumped me on my feet so I stumbled awkwardly like a clumsy toddler. She urged me on my way with a couple of loud crisp swats to my drooping panty bottom, towards where a grinning Tammy was sitting waiting at the nearby picnic table.

I shrieked like a frightened little girl and clumsily tried to leap away from Bonnie's hard hand. She took two giant steps in her black platform boots and easily caught up with me. She grabbed me again and swiftly lifted me onto the table, and I felt my soggy nappy squelch wetly under my bum. My pink change mat was already spread out on the hard wooden surface waiting for me. Tammy was grinning in anticipation as she held up the tubs of baby wipes and powder in readiness. My cousin raised my dress and petties high, sharply ordering me to hold the frothy tiers in place under my chin before forcing me to lie on my back.

When I turned my humiliated gaze towards Steven and his mother, they were standing beside the low fence a few metres away. They were both watching me with unconcealed interest. "Look, Steven," the boy's mummy crankily insisted. "Watch what happens to naughty little girls who can't stop wetting their pants." My cheeks were blazing with embarrassment when Tammy helpfully ripped down my dripping Barbie-pink panties to my ankles, revealing my sodden cloth nappies. "Is this what you want to happen to you, you naughty little boy?" his mother demanded.

"Oh my gosh, Baby Jennie!" Tammy cried in horror, before I could hear the boy's snivelled reply. "Your nappy is saturated! You are dripping wet! What a hopeless big baby you are!" I saw Steven raise himself up on tippy-toes so he could better examine my drenched diaper while my frowning cousin unpinned me. I cringed and sucked harder on my dum-dums as I realised my true sex was about to be shamefully revealed to the world. Bonnie was grinning like a madwoman when she lowered the yellow pee-stained front of my nappy with a flourish. I heard the collective gasp of astonishment from the watching pair when my semi-hard clittie flopped into view. If it was possible to die of embarrassment, I would have passed away at that moment.

"My God! That little girl is- Your little girl is a boy!" The dark-haired woman's tired brown eyes flew wide in shock. Her jaw dropped open to reveal her uneven, tar-stained teeth, before she could cover her gaping mouth with her free hand. "But- but she's so beautiful!" Bonnie's malevolent grin grew broader and my blushes intensified when my humiliation seemed complete, my clittie shrivelling in shame despite the back-handed compliment.

“Yes she is!” Bonnie crowed. My cousin raised my ankles and rolled me further onto my back so she could slide the drenched diapers from under my elevated bottom. As soon as she pushed the sodden pieces of cloth aside, Tammy helpfully slid a fresh pair of soft fluffy nappies underneath me. While Bonnie kept my toes high in the air, Tammy swiftly wiped my bottom and my rosebud with some cool moist baby wipes, and then she powdered me back there. After Bonnie lowered my feet, Tammy carefully wiped around my shrinking clittie and wrinkled ball sack, and then she heavily powdered my front, too.

In moments the clean fluffy nappies were being tightly pinned over my hips, thankfully covering my wayward little organ. My domineering cousin cooed, "Footsies in the air and ballerina toesies, Baby Jennie." When Bonnie slid the glistening damp PVC panties up my compliantly raised legs, I realised the white lace trim around the leg holes was moist with my urine. The cotton edging felt cold and clammy compared to my fresh clean nappies, and I grimaced at the yucky uncomfortable feeling around my sensitive upper thighs. Tammy was smirking at my shame-tinged cheeks as she rolled up my drenched nappies and tied them in a used plastic shopping bag.

"Why do you dress your little boy like a baby girl?" The woman demanded, sounding suddenly interested. Bonnie tossed me that familiar shark-like grin before she replied.
"My wicked little boy is not only a hopeless bedwetter and panty-pooper, but he also likes to try on his- his sister's and his girl cousins' dresses and underwear. He's even been caught trying on his Mama's pretty panties in secret," my cousin gleefully informed them, and I heard the mother's stunned gasp of horror. Tammy frowned and nodded seriously in agreement with Bonnie's harsh accusations, as if to confirm her every cruel word. "So this is how we decided to punish him - by putting my bad boy back in nappies full-time, and dressing him like the precious little girl he seems to secretly want to be. Isn't that right, Baby Jennie?"
"Yeth Mama," I mumbled contritely around my dum-dums. You could have fried an egg on my hot red cheeks.

My cousin took my hands and sat me up, turning my body so my short legs dangled over the side of the table facing the boy and his mother. "What are you, Baby Jennie?" Bonnie ruthlessly demanded.
"I'm - I'm a - I'm a dirty, hewpweth, bad widdle baby girl," I confessed, as tears of shame began to trickle down my burning face.
"And tell the nice lady why you're wearing nappies?"
"B-becauthe I c-c-can't thtop wetting the bed or p-p-pooping my pantieth," I snivelled abjectly in reply.

"See?" Bonnie insisted, smiling with malevolent delight as she flounced out my rustling petticoats. She tidied up the white lace-edged hem of my floaty pink frock like a loving mother, despite her caustic observations. "Look at my Baby Jennie's blushing red cheeks, and those tears! Look at how embarrassed and ashamed my naughty baby girl is," my bitchy auburn-haired cousin gleefully pointed out. Is it any wonder that I began to hiccup back the sobs, and a few moments later I began to loudly cry.

"My wicked little Baby Jennie is learning some very valuable lessons today. Aren't you, little girl?" Bonnie coldly demanded, as she lifted me down and set me on shaky legs.
"Yeth Mama," I sobbed around my mouth-filling dummy teat. The shameful tears trickled down my chin, dripping wetly onto the bodice of my filmy cotton frock. Bonnie clucked her tongue in annoyance and reached into my diaper bag. She swiftly clipped my white bibbie around my neck to prevent the fat salty tears staining the new frock Mummy recently made for me.

"I see," muttered the woman, but her confused expression clearly said otherwise. Bonnie reached into my pink gingham change bag once more. She withdrew one of my clean, pastel-pink disposable diapers and held it out to the woman as she approached the fence.
"Here," she offered. "Have one of my baby's disposables. It will fit your little boy, I'm sure. I'm taking my girls home now, so I won't be needing it. You can change your naughty boy's poopy pants right here and now, and dress him more appropriately to the way he's been acting." The frowning woman leaned over the low fence and accepted the puffy pink disposable with her free hand without comment. Bonnie continued temptingly; "I have everything you need right here - powder, wipes; even a spare plastic bag to dump his dirty pants and underwear in, too."

I saw Steven try to conceal his gleeful expression by turning the corners of his mouth down and ducking his chin. "I don't wanna wear a pink diaper," he shrilly complained, after he removed his startlingly-pink, drool-covered thumb. But when he darted a quick glance in my direction, I could tell from the look in his big brown eyes that he was secretly thrilled by the thought - despite the way his bottom lip sulkily protruded. His plaintive pleas seemed to galvanize his mother. "No Mummy! I don't wanna-" he whined again, before she cut him off.

"I don't care what you want, Steven! You're a dirty, bad little boy! If you won't stop wetting and soiling your pants… Maybe diapers are the best thing for you!" She tucked the folded pink disposable under her arm. After scooping her little boy under the armpits, she lifted her wriggling son over the fence. She easily clambered over the low mesh barrier too, and remorselessly pushed her protesting five-year-old towards the picnic table. "That's very kind of you," she politely thanked Bonnie, who only grinned and held out the slim white tub of baby wipes. "Do you want to remove your baby's change mat first? This could get a little… messy."
"No, that's alright," Bonnie replied with an indulgent smile, as she moved me to one side to watch. "That's what change mats are for, after all. It will certainly need a wash when we get home, anyway. My naughty Baby Jennie is such a heavy wetter."

The cranky woman made her embarrassed son stand on the picnic table in clear view of everyone in the park. She loudly chastised him while she unfastened the button and fly of his shorts, before roughly tugging down his wet pants. He almost stumbled when she made him lift each dirty bare foot in turn, and she ripped the dripping pants clear of his trembling feet. She took more care removing his saggy poopy underpants, and she clucked her tongue and shook her head in disgust as she dumped them in a used plastic shopping bag Tammy helpfully held open for her. Even though I knew Steven secretly wanted to wear nappies like me, I didn't think this was quite what he had in mind. His freckled face turned bright red and his squinting brown eyes nervously darted around, trying to see how many people were observing his humiliating baby treatment.

I glanced over my shoulder into the playground, and sucked harder on my dummy teat when I saw there were dozens of people watching us. All play had ceased in the kiddie enclosure, and even the mothers and carers had risen to their feet to better observe our little party. Even as I sympathised with Steven's awful plight. I felt pathetically grateful that for once, I wasn't the centre of everyone's scornful attention. I didn't realise they had been watching us for quite a while, and everyone had witnessed my humiliating public nappy change.

Steven's mother continued to loudly berate the poor embarrassed boy as she wiped up his messy bottom. He stood there sniffling and whinging like an irritable toddler. Then she made him kneel on the change mat on all fours like a puppy dog, so she could thoroughly clean between his legs and botty cheeks. Tammy kindly gripped Steven’s trembling bare buttocks and ripped them apart, brutally holding him open for a minute so his mother could easily scrub every filthy nook and cranny. When the cranky woman decided it was safe for him to roll onto his back, she simply grabbed his narrow hips and turned him over, handling her son as though he was a useless two-year-old.

"Maybe this will teach you," she growled at the crying child. She slid the open pink diaper under his freshly-scrubbed rear end. She heavily powdered his botty and crotch before handing the container back to Tammy. She efficiently taped the crackling disposable closed over her struggling son's wriggling hips. He tried to roll away from her grasp, but she viciously grabbed one of his biceps and waved a warning finger under his nose. She threatened; "Lie still, Steven! Do you want a smack? You naughty little baby! Do you want me to put you over my knee right now for a botty-spanking, as well?"

He froze in fear and rapidly shook his head, whimpering in terror when she muttered, "Maybe if Mummy makes you wear pretty pink diapers like a sissy baby girl every time you wet or poop your pants, you might learn to control yourself better." She lifted him down from the table and stood him on wobbly legs beside her. The humiliated child shivered with shame as he began to wail in distress. His mother firmly grasped his hand and shook his arm violently in rebuke, then she accepted the plastic bag containing her son's soiled clothing from Tammy with a grimace of distaste. "Thank you, young lady. Thank you both very much."

Steven's stained blue shirt was long enough to cover most of his diaper, but not enough to conceal the tell-tale, puffy pink crotch poking out from underneath. His mother continued to scowl at me while Bonnie ordered me to raise my hands. In moments the shameful pink toddler harness was lowered over my bowed head and buckled tightly around my trembling torso. I stared at the sniffling, humiliated, red-haired boy, desperately sucking his thumb for comfort. Likewise I sucked harder on my pink baby soother for the relief it usually brought me, but shameful tears continued to trickle down my flaming red cheeks. Bonnie was smiling triumphantly as she clipped the matching leather reins to the D-rings over my nipples, and she turned me to face the woman and her whimpering son once more.

"Baby Jennie, say goodbye to your new little friend like a polite baby girl," Tammy commanded me like a bossy big sister, as she gleefully accepted the reins from my heartless cousin.
"Bye-bye Thteven," I obediently sniffled around my mouth-filling baby soother, sucking harder on the fat rubber teat in a vain attempt to contain my tears.
"Say bye-byes, Baby Steven," his Mummy tartly ordered, giving his arm another warning shake.
"Bye-bye Baby Jennie," the boy sadly replied. He snatched his wet thumb from his sullen mouth and gave me a shy little wave before Tammy dragged me away. The walk back to Bonnie's place passed in a blur of tears. When I saw April's red Volvo parked in Aunty’s driveway, I actually felt relieved. Would my public humiliation soon be coming to an end?

To be continued in chapter 15.

Synopsis; Baby Jennie spends some time with Aunty Bonnie, then Aunty Cath comes over to check out the embroidered bibs she had made for the new baby girl.

Chapter 15. Baby Jennie's New Bibs

Bonnie leaned back against two pillows propped against the padded, pastel-pink headboard of her high bed. From the way her enormous bosoms shifted either side of her lush tanned body, I could tell she wasn't wearing a bra under her white satin robe. Her make-up was flawless as usual, and her long hair was loose and lying across her shoulders in a silken chestnut haze. She looked like a beautiful queen, surrounded by a retinue of fat pillows covered in gleaming pink satin. The gorgeous girl's huge golden eyes glowed with lust, and she batted her long black eyelashes seductively. She toyed with the short robe loosely belted around her slender waist, and she delicately licked her glossy red lips with the tip of her glistening pink tongue. Bonnie patted the quilted, pastel-pink satin coverlet beside her in blatant invitation, cooing enticingly, "Come here, Baby Jennie. Crawl up here beside Mama."

In a trice I was on my hands and knees on the queen-size bed beside her. Bonnie used her large hands to turn me on my side and slide me closer to her voluptuous frame. She smelled clean and fresh from the bath, with a faint trace of some familiar sweet perfume I couldn't quite place. I could feel my wet nappy clinging erotically to my genitals, and I knew my clittie was already hard and throbbing with arousal. Bonnie rearranged some of the plush pillows to support my head and shoulder, and then slid me right up against her wonderfully warm body. Her huge fleshy breast was a perfect cushion for my face, and I gratefully rested my cheek against her heavenly-soft globe. "Mama! Mama!" I babbled excitedly, sounding just like a tiny baby.

"Here, baby girl," Bonnie lovingly crooned, as she eased aside the slippery satin gown separating us. "You have a lovely suck on Mama's titty." Her bare tanned breasts looked enormous when she peeled apart the flaps of her shiny white robe, and I stared at the basketball-sized teats in awe. The russet areola were huge - each one wider across than my palm - and her crinkling erect nipples were already the size of the end joint of my thumb. She kneaded the swollen blue-veined breast closest to my face with her thick fingers, and then pinched and squeezed the expanding, darker stiff nipple. A few tiny droplets of watery milk appeared on the bumpy tip between her glossy pink fingernails. "Come on, little girl," she urged me in soothing baby tones. "Come and have a lovely feed from Mama's titty."
"Mama! Mama!" I squealed with more urgency, my senses reeling with excitement.

Bonnie wrapped her whole hand over her enormous bare breast, letting the milk-tipped nipple poke out temptingly between her splayed fingers. She reached behind my head with her other hand and guided my slobbering open mouth towards the erect russet bud. I knew I was drooling heavily in anticipation, the warm spittle dribbling unheeded down my chin to dampen the frilly bib clipped around my neck. "Here you are, baby girl," Bonnie coaxed me, directing the dripping teat between my eagerly parted lips. I greedily latched onto her warm breast like a starving infant. "Oh! Ooo!" Bonnie moaned, "Mmm! That's it, Baby Jennie. Oh yes! Suck hard, baby. Ohh, good girl! Suck the milk from Mama's titties."

When I sucked hard, her huge stiff nipple seemed to slide halfway down my throat. The trickle of warm watery milk across my palate tasted amazing! I frantically pressed the dribbling teat against the roof of my mouth with my tongue and received a stronger squirt of warm sweet liquid for my efforts. I concentrated on building up a rhythm - suck, press, suck, then swallow - suck, press, suck, then swallow. Soon I was lost in the wonderful infantile sensations of breastfeeding, wiggling my little body in rapturous delight as I snuffled like a greedy piglet at Mama's abundant bosom.

"Oh good girl! What a good baby girl you are for Mama," Bonnie murmured throatily. I grunted in excitement as I wriggled even closer to her soft womanly curves. When she was sure I had securely latched on, she released her grip on the heavy swollen teat. I reached up to seize the huge fleshy melon with both hands, kneading and pushing on the full cushiony breast like a starving infant in an attempt to pump out more of her sweet milk. I frantically thrust my hard little clittie into the warm wet folds of my drenched diaper, pressing my throbbing stiffie against my cousin's broad hip until there could be no doubt how excited I was down there. "Mmm, good baby. Such a good little girl for Mama," she moaned quietly in pleasure. I felt her free hand sliding down my tummy towards my nappy front. Her nimble fingers easily bypassed the tight elastic waistband of my noisily rustling baby panties, and then she reached inside my hot wet swaddling.

"Oh my! What a lovely warm wet nappy," Bonnie whispered tenderly in my ear. I frantically sucked and swallowed her sweet milk, gurgling wetly in excitement at her delighted tone. "What a wet little baby girl you are for Mama! Such a wet, wet nappy," she purred approvingly, making me wriggle and twist in her grasp like an excited puppy. "But that's alright, little girl, because Mama knows how much you love it." The feeling when she touched me down there was electric! I'm sure my whole body jerked spastically. "Oh yes, baby! You love wetting your nappies, don't you, Baby Jennie? Oh yes, Mama knows, my beautiful little girl. Yes you are! You're my beautiful Baby Jennie, and you love to wet and poop your nappies. Mama knows, baby. Mama has always known what a big baby girl you are, deep down."

I wanted to moan that it was all true; that she was right - but the warm milk gushing down my throat and the massive nipple filling my mouth prevented me forming any intelligible reply. Instead I simply gurgled and groaned in helpless agreement. I felt warm trickles of breast milk leak from the corners of my mouth and dribble wetly down my cheek. I shuddered in blissful excitement when she wrapped her slippery fist around my pulsating wet clittie.

"Ooo, my little girl likes that! Don't you, Baby Jennie?" Bonnie purred sensuously, expertly stroking me to greater heights of arousal. "Don't stop feeding, Baby Jennie! Keep sucking on Mama's titty, baby girl," she gently reminded me. I realised I had stopped suckling momentarily, caught up by the unbelievable feelings coming from inside my deliciously drenched diaper. "Drink Mama's milk, baby, drink it all down," sang Bonnie enticingly. I started pumping her swollen breast again with my tiny hands, sucking avidly as squirt after squirt of delectable warm milk trickled down my throat, while simultaneously pumping my pulsating clittie into her slippery wet fist. "What a wet little baby girl you are, Baby Jennie. Such a beautiful, wet baby girl for Mama."

For a few minutes I was lost in the wonderful world of infantile delights, whimpering with desire as I filled my tummy with satisfying warm milk, mindlessly thrusting my throbbing tool into Mama's soft wet hand. She titillated me down there as she stimulated my imagination, whispering the words she knew I wanted to hear as she lovingly breastfed me.

"Oh yes, good girl! That's my good baby girl. Mama loves her beautiful wet Baby Jennie so much! Yes she does! Mama is going to keep her sweet little baby girl in nappies and baby panties where she belongs, all the time! Mama knows that's what you secretly want, baby girl. Mama will always dress her precious Baby Jennie in pretty dresses and frilly rumba panties, with sweet sissy frilly petticoats and thick nappies underneath; just like you've always dreamed about. Yes, that's right, my precious baby girl. Mama is going to make you her sweet little baby girl forever and ever!"

One of my hands unconsciously drifted from her emptying teat and my fingers slid down her warm belly, caressing my cousin's smooth brown flesh in adolescent adoration. "Mama knows that's what you secretly want, baby girl," she whispered confidentially, as I lovingly stroked her silky-soft tummy. Suck, press, suck, swallow. Suck, press, suck, swallow. "She knows you never want to grow up. You'll always be a sweet, helpless baby girl - my beautiful little Baby Jennie." When my fingers touched the waistband of her panties, they fluttered to a stop in confusion. Instead of the silky nylon panties I expected to find, Bonnie was wearing plastic panties - like me! When I dared reach down further, I discovered the unmistakable bulk of a thick cloth nappy beneath the crackling layer of plastic. I ran my hand over the huge steel nappy pin clasped over the hip closest to me, easily recognizing the metal object securing her enormous diaper in place. In a flash I recognised Bonnie’s familiar perfume; it was an enchanting combination of sweetly-scented baby powder and her fresh urine!

"Yes, baby girl," Bonnie moaned lasciviously. "Mama is wearing her nappy, too!" I let my searching fingers creep across the crackling front of her plastic-sheathed nappy, and inched my hand down between her splayed thighs. I felt that familiar soggy warmth, compressing the bulk against her kitten with my cupped palm. Not only was Bonnie wearing a nappy, she was saturated - just like me! I pressed her warm wet nappy harder against her kitten with my curled fingers. We both grunted and groaned in excitement, and I thrust my pulsating clittie into her soggy fist more rapidly. Her other hand moved from behind my head to cup and caress my crinkling panty bottom. When her fingers slid over the seat of my wet nappy and delved into my bumcrack, she pressed on the hot hard lump nestled between my cheeks. It was then I knew I had pooped my nappy, as well!

"Ooo, did my poor little baby girl do a lovely big poo-poos in her nap-naps, too?" Bonnie chuckled forgivingly as she poked and prodded the hot squishy mess trapped inside my humid nappy, spreading the lovely warm mud over both botty cheeks. "Oh yes, I can feel it! Mmm, what a big, hot, squishy poo-poo in your nap-nap! Mmm, doesn't that feel lovely, little girl? Yes it does! Mama knows! You love to poo your nappies like a helpless little baby, don't you, you naughty girl? But that's alright, because Mama knows how much you secretly enjoy it - all warm and moist and squishy around your bot-bot and clittie. Mmmm! You love it, don't you baby? What a lovely, hot, wet, poopy nap-nap you made for Mama! Ooo, is that more poop I can feel coming out of your bot-bot? Are you doing another poo-poo in your nap-nap for Mama? Yes you are! That's it, you dirty bad baby. Push it out of your botty-hole, Baby Jennie. Push nice and hard for Mama, you wicked, poopy little girl. You bad baby. Bad girl! Oh you bad baby! Bad Baby Jennie!"

"Mama! Mmph, Mama!" I tried to grunt around the gushing nipple filling my mouth, as an unbelievable tension built up in my body. I felt like I had to pee and poop at the same time, and everything wanted to come out all at once. Bonnie was crisply swatting the growing bulge poking out the seat of my nappy, her broad palm slapping harder and harder over my tight plastic panties, until it felt like she was trying to smack the firm turds back inside my widely-dilated rosebud. Suddenly all the feelings became focused on my pulsating clittie and my straining poo-poo hole. Bright coloured lights flashed in my head as I began to tremble. My senses swam dizzily as I squealed in excitement, rapidly pumping into Bonnie's slippery wet fist as the fantastic sensations overwhelmed me. My stiff clittie felt like it had swollen to twice its normal size, and it was about to explode! "Mama! Mmph! Mama!" I mumbled in the heat of passion, milk dribbling from my writhing lips.

"Oh you bad baby! Bad Baby Jennie!" Mummy snarled in fury. I was cruelly torn from my wonderful fantasy as she savagely spanked my heavily-padded, upturned botty. I couldn't stop ramming my clittie into the clinging folds of my hot wet nappy, my rapidly thrusting rear rising up to meet her punishing hand several more times before I came fully awake. Mummy forcibly rolled me onto my back, and I gazed up at her angry red face in dazed confusion. The hand I had cupped protectively over my soggy groin fell away to clutch my pink teddy, my pelvis still jerking and twitching spastically before my rampant erection began to rapidly wilt.

Tears filled my sleepy eyes when I realised it had all been a fantastic dream. When I opened my mouth to protest my innocence, the nipple of my baby bottle slipped from between my wet lips. Milk spurted over my face and then trickled onto my pillow, adding to the large wet stain already there. Mummy grabbed the leaking pink bottle before it made any more mess on my bedclothes.

"I wathn't doing nuffin!" I cried in stunned alarm. My fingers automatically searched for the dummy I knew must be clipped to my onesie collar. Mummy slammed my almost-empty bottle onto the vanity with a loud snort of disbelief, then roughly wiped my milk-stained face with my bib. As soon as I located my big pink baby soother, I popped it in my mouth and drew hard on the amber rubber teat for solace. When I ran my fingers along the slender plastic chain, I found it was fastened to the delicate lace-trimmed collar of the bib clipped around my neck.

"You're a dirty, bad little baby girl!" Mummy stormed, as she stamped on the release lever of my crib railing. "Bad baby! Bad Baby Jennie!" As I sucked harder on the fat pacifier nipple, I remembered the details of my strange erotic dream, and I'm sure my cheeks were tinged pink with guilt even as I shrilly protested my innocence.
"I wath athleep, Mummy! I wath athleep!" I complained in a high-pitched whine, fingering the unfamiliar soft lace frill around my neck. I turned my head to search for Angie, hoping she could confirm my story. My sister's bed was already empty.

Mummy looked doubtful as she lowered the side of my crib with a unnerving clatter. "It didn't look like you were asleep to me," she responded tartly, with a quick frown of annoyance for my visibly-tenting crotch. "Come here to Mummy, you bad baby girl." She grabbed me under the armpits and carried me over to the change table, and she almost threw me onto the pink padded top.
"I wath, Mummy! I wath athleep!" I repeated abjectly. The ready tears that seemed to always lurk below the surface these days sprang unwanted from my eyes again. "I wathn't doing nuffin'!" I blubbered around my dum-dums like a fretful toddler.

Mummy ignored my baby tears to smooth out the milk-stained bib over the breast of my pink onesie, pausing to admire the delicate pale-pink lace frills sewn around the neckline and the outside edge. "That'd be right," she snorted incomprehensibly, and I didn't realise she was reading the humiliating inscription embroidered across the front of the pastel-pink terry bib. 'I love my wet and poopy nappies' was printed in bright-red toddler's alphabet blocks, the shameful message there for everyone to read. She glared at me as she unsnapped the crotch of my onesie and ripped down my pink plastic panties. I hazily tried to remember how I ended up in my cot wearing a bib and sucking from my baby bottle. In moments my dripping nappy was unpinned, and Mummy stuck the open pink-capped pins in a bar of soap on the shelf overhead.

I cringed as I remembered the humiliating walk in the park with Bonnie and Tammy, and my embarrassing public nappy change on the picnic table. Feelings of shame almost overwhelmed me, and I sobbed harder as I recalled how my cruel cousin had told the little red-haired boy and his mother all about my naughty habits and exactly how she was punishing me. Mummy clucked in annoyance when she discovered my saturated nappy was also poopy in the rear. I ignored her grumbling as she examined the sopping front of my dirty diaper for any trace of semen. Satisfied my nappy front was unsullied by cum, she dropped the dripping diapers in my nappy bucket with a sigh of despair. She carefully cleaned my messy bot-bot and damp loins with baby wipes without any assistance from me. I simply lay back like a useless infant while Mummy did everything for me.

"That bottom looks very sore, little girl," Mummy commented sourly, fingering the painful purple bruises that decorated both botty cheeks until I winced in pain. "Someone must have been a very naughty baby girl for her Aunty Bonnie." I continued sobbing but didn't reply, and Mummy seemed to take pity on me. She didn't say another word while she cleaned me up, although she still looked annoyed by my uncontrollable infantile antics.

This time Mummy slid an open toddler's disposable diaper between the two hourglass-shaped cloth layers, before slipping the prepared white terry nappies under my compliantly-raised rear. "I'm putting one of Angie's disposables inside your nappies to act as an extra soaker pad, little girl," Mummy snidely informed me, "because you're such a heavy wetter. Those nappies that Bonnie sent back today were drenched with urine front-to-back, you naughty baby."

I shrugged my narrow shoulders in passive acceptance of my fate, thinking that things probably couldn't get any worse. I was wrong. When the clean nappies were pinned tightly around my hips, I found the extra bulk between my thighs forced my little legs even further apart. If I thought I was waddling badly before, I knew this would make things much worse.

* * * * * * *

I could barely remember the long tearful journey back to Bonnie's place from the park. I remembered being thankful when I saw April's car in the driveway. "Mum is going to kill you," were the first words I heard when Tammy dragged me through Aunty Cath's front door, startling me from my self-pitying reverie. "I mean it, Bonnie," continued April in warning. I breathed a sigh of relief around my dum-dums when I realised the raven-haired beauty wasn't talking to me.

"She'll kill you if she catches you borrowing her boots - and her silk blouse - and her leather skirt - without permission. You know that. Oh hi Tammy, and hello Baby Jennie. Don't you look sweet, little one?"
"Yeah, yeah," Bonnie carelessly yawned with a dismissive wave of her hand. She paused to pose in front of her temporarily-shorter big sister in the skyscraper-high black boots. "It's a good thing we all have like, the same size feet now, you know?" She glanced down in contempt at the plain white sneakers April wore.

"Yes, but that's Mum's favourite leather skirt stretched around your fat arse-"
Bonnie cut her off to protest indignantly; "My arse is not fat! I'm just more 'womanly' than you, that's all."

April grimaced and ran her palms over her slender hips and pert bottom, encased in a pair of snug navy stretch jeans. On top she wore a demure white Broderie-Anglaise, button-front blouse. "Yes, well, you'd better get your 'womanly' arse into mum's bedroom and put her stuff away before she comes home, or she's going to be extremely pissed-off. She'll be back in less than an hour. And wash all that make-up off your face, too, Bonnie. It makes you look ten years older. Go on!"
"What are you doing now," Bonnie asked her big sister, unconsciously smoothing the tight leather skirt over her big curvaceous bum and pouting prettily - which looked kind of weird with the harsh make-up still painted on her face.

"Mum picked up Baby Jennie's bibs from the embroidery place, and she asked me to drop them over to Aunty Isy's this afternoon. I'm driving over there now."
"Fabulous! Where are they? Can I see them?" Bonnie demanded in excitement. Tammy unclipped the reins from my toddler harness and then twirled me around to unbuckle the pink leather straps. I sucked harder on my dum-dums while I tried to remember what Aunty Cath had suggested doing to some of my bibbies.
"No, they're in the boot of my car, and I'm leaving now," April replied shortly.
"In that case, can you take the baby back home?" Bonnie asked hopefully, before promising; "I only changed her nappy like, about twenty minutes ago. She shouldn't need changing anytime soon."

April appeared to notice Tammy's juvenile appearance and her awkward, wide-legged stance for the first time. She frowned momentarily in confusion, before checking her wristwatch and dismissing the matter with a preoccupied shake of her jet-black locks. "Okay Bonnie," April agreed with a reluctant sigh. "The car's unlocked, so you put Baby Jennie in her toddler seat in the back and buckle her in. I'll grab my handbag from the kitchen and get going."
"Cool!" Bonnie exclaimed in delight. She snatched my pink leather harness and the reins from Tammy's hands and carelessly stuffed them in the bulging change bag. She waited until her big sister walked away before continuing in a muted voice; "Let me check that nappy, Baby Tammy."

The smaller girl smiled coquettishly as she boldly raised her tartan skirt in front, exposing her sagging plastic panties and waiting expectantly. Bonnie reached between Tammy's legs and pushed the sodden cloth up firmly against the cheeky girl's wet kitten, holding her hand there and gently rubbing back and forwards. The tiny teen shuddered and moaned with excitement. Bonnie grinned triumphantly as she cooed, "Ooo, what a wet nappy! Mama will have to change her wet little girl right away! You go and wait for me in my room, Baby Tammy. And make sure you don't touch anything until I get back!" Bonnie cautioned the beautiful blonde with a sly seductive smirk. Tammy nodded eagerly in agreement and grinning hugely, she obediently waddled off to her girlfriend's bedroom.

Minutes later I was buckled into the humiliating pink toddler seat in back of April's old red Volvo. Bonnie dumped the full change bag on the floor beneath my swaying candy-pink slippers. I could smell the ammonia stench of my stale urine drifting up from my drenched diapers inside the tied plastic bag.

"Bye-bye, Baby Jennie," Bonnie sweetly crooned. She leaned in to carefully wipe my tear-stained face with the bib still fastened around my neck, before giving me a quick peck on the cheek. "I had fun today," she whispered in my ear before withdrawing. The car door slammed closed before I could sputter a retort around my mouth-filling dum-dums. In the solitude of the back seat, I found myself fantasising about breastfeeding like a real baby on Bonnie's humungous breasts, sulking over her broken promise to let me suckle from her mammoth teats. I sucked harder on my substitute rubber nipple for consolation, and April thankfully remained silent during our short drive home.

She parked in our driveway and after she released me from the toddler seat's restrictive nylon straps, April pulled a mock-miserable face at my woebegone expression. "Aww, what's wrong, little girl? Why such a sad face, when you look so pretty today?" I looked up at her with hazy eyes as she stood me on my feet. When I sucked harder on my dum-dums and didn't reply, she asked; "Are you hungry? Is that it, baby girl? Does my gorgeous baby girl have an empty tum-tum? Hmm?" I hesitantly nodded and chewed on my dummy teat, aware that my tummy was growling emptily at the mere mention of food.

"Did your Aunty Bonnie feed you any lunch today?" I shook my head in misery, and April frowned and similarly shook her head in disappointment. "That'd be right," she muttered in mild annoyance at her kid sister's careless ways. "I have to do everything around here." She slid my full change bag over one shoulder and collected a bulging yellow plastic shopping bag from the boot, and tossed her handbag inside. She gripped my hand before leading me waddling up the path like an unsteady toddler.

When nobody answered our doorbell, April simply turned the knob and opened the front door. There was no response to her loud calls either, so she escorted me into the kitchen and dumped the bags on the bench. She buckled me into my highchair, and I stretched and yawned as my hopeless bladder lazily emptied again. "You wait here for a minute while I find your Mummy, Baby Jennie," April ordered unnecessarily. She locked the pink wooden tray in place as well, so I had absolutely no choice in the matter.

April returned a few minutes later to inform me, "Your Mummy and sister are fast asleep upstairs in bed, little one. I'm going to feed you some lunch, sweetie, and then I'll put you down in your crib for your nap, as well. I bet you must be all tuckered out, too, baby girl." I realised it was already way past time for my usual afternoon nap, which might have partly explained why I felt so tired and cranky.

April found two jars of pureed toddler food - turkey and mixed vegetables - although apart from reading the labels, I couldn't have told you what it was. She spooned the pale brown gruel into one of my plastic Barbie bowls and heated it in the microwave. When it was ready, she tried a little of the unseasoned baby food on her lip first. "Yuck!" She grimaced in disgust and spat into the sink, then turned to face me while reloading the pink baby spoon. "It's so bland! Oh well, that's what babies like, I guess," she commented airily, as she delicately wiped her red lips clean with the back of her hand. Tired and hungry, I spat out my dummy and opened my mouth wide in readiness. "Lucky you've already got your bib on, honey. Here you go, Baby Jennie. Open wide, little girl," she crooned affectionately, spooning the pureed food into my gaping mouth. "That's it. Good girl."

I must have pulled a face at the awful tasteless concoction, and April poked out her sensuous red bottom lip in sympathy. "Aww, I know it doesn't taste very nice, sweetie. But you eat it all up like a good little girl for Aunty April, and I'll feed you some yummy banana afterwards, okay?" I swallowed the next mouthful of bland beige paste with difficulty and gave her a weak smile of appreciation, and she returned my smile with a broad one of her own. "Let Aunty April remove that dummy, baby, before you get it all messy," she kindly suggested, and unclipped the chain from my dirty white bibbie. "That's better. Now open wide, darling. That's my good baby. What a good baby girl you are," she tenderly cooed, spooning up a tiny piece of turkey that accidentally slipped down my chin and landed on my bib, and then feeding it to me again. "There you go! Good girl! Such a clever baby girl for Aunty."

April was talking to me and treating me as if I really was nothing but a helpless baby girl, but her tone didn't sound sarcastic or nasty. Her smiles were genuine and her sparkling dark-brown eyes seemed full of concern. It was as though she really saw me as nothing but a small child; a pretty little girl who needed love and looking after. I hesitantly smiled back at her, and she beamed in delight. "That's better!" April cooed in approval, batting her long black eyelashes at me endearingly, until I found myself unconsciously imitating her feminine behaviour. Her pleased smile grew broader.

"That's a pretty smile, baby! You really should smile more, precious. You're such a beautiful little girl, especially when you smile." Even though I knew it should have been humiliating being treated like a helpless baby girl by the tall raven-haired beauty, I shyly smiled up at her in appreciation. After the cruel way her little sister and her best friend had teased and tormented me all morning, it was a relief to be spoken to so kindly. True to her word, as soon as my Barbie bowl was scraped clean, April took it away and rinsed it in the sink. She selected two large ripe bananas from the fruit bowl on the kitchen bench, peeled them, and then with a fork, mashed them with a little honey in my clean pink plastic bowl.

"Here darling," she lovingly coaxed me. "I'm sure you'll like this a lot better." After eating nothing but porridge and bland baby food for the last few days, the taste of fresh mashed bananas and honey was like an explosion of flavour on my tongue. I grunted wordlessly in excitement and wriggled forward like an overexcited toddler in my highchair restraints. I sucked harder on the pink rubber-coated spoon to draw every last scrap into my slobbering mouth. "Mmm, that's better! Isn't it, Baby Jennie? Yummy-scrummy 'nana!" She laughed when she had to tug the baby utensil from my suctioning lips. I lunged for the freshly-loaded spoon without bothering to answer. "Ooo, my little baby girl likes that, doesn't she? Mm-mmm! Yum-yums!" She smiled forgivingly as she used the rubber-coated spoon to scoop up the stream of drool running down my chin.

She was sweet as honey herself while she lovingly fed me the rest of the sweetened mashed fruit, encouraging me to eat every tiny bit like a good babysitter should. When I had greedily swallowed every delicious morsel of banana, she giggled merrily while she wiped my grubby lips and chin with my stained white bibbie. "Such a messy baby girl you are," she gently chided me, before she unclipped my filthy bib and tossed it aside on the kitchen bench. She carefully wiped my face and hands clean with a warm washcloth too, crooning encouragingly to me to hold still for her like a good little girl.

In moments she had released me from the highchair restraints, and I yawned hugely before she could lift me into her arms. She popped my dum-dums back in my gaping mouth, and I sleepily sucked on the fat rubber teat. The towering beauty carried me upstairs as though I weighed nothing at all. "Shh, baby girl. We don't want to wake up your sister," April cautioned me in a hushed voice. She softly padded into the Nursery and quietly stood me beside the change table. She silently removed my frock and rustling petticoat, and hung them on the wardrobe door. Then she lifted me onto the change table to remove my pink patent slippers and frilly socks.

April poked my droopy wet crotch through my PVC panties with her fingers, and quietly asked; "How wet are you, baby girl? I thought your Aunty Bonnie said she only changed you a little while ago? This nappy feels saturated, Baby Jennie!" I assumed her whispered questions were rhetorical, and didn't bother responding. "I certainly can't put you down for a nap in that wet nappy, baby girl. Lie back, and lift that bot-bot for Aunty April, sweetie. Good girl. And down, and point those pretty pink toesies like a pretty ballerina." I relaxed and closed my eyes, letting her go through the familiar comforting routine of changing my nappy. When she raised my ankles and folded my feet back to clean my poor sore bottom, she didn't mention the bruises, although her hands were more gentle than usual when she wiped my damp behind.

"There isn't any poop in your nappy, but this rosebud is very dirty, little girl." She demanded in a gentle teasing tone; "Did you do a wet fluffy, Baby Jennie?" I didn't bother replying and she tut-tutted in mild annoyance when she had to wipe my sensitive opening again and again with the cool moist baby wipes. She gently poked her fingertip inside my wrinkled hole until the wipe wrapped around it remained clean on withdrawal. She didn't comment on my thickening clittie when she lowered my ankles, except to gaily observe; "Hmmm. I think my little girl liked that!" I began to tremble with fear, expecting her to cool my ardour with an icy-cold spoon. April merely smirked down at me as she sprinkled a handful of talc over my straining erection, before pinning two fresh fluffy nappies around my slender hips.

"It's okay, baby girl. Lots of little girls get excited when you clean their pussies," she reassured me in honeyed tones. She patted the obvious bulging front of my fluffy nappy. "It's completely natural, sweetie. I think you feel the same thing when I clean your 'boy-pussy'. It makes my sissy baby girl get all excited, too! My little niece's clittie gets all hard when we play with her boy-pussy, doesn't it?" She nodded encouragingly as she asked, "That's it, isn't it, precious?" I nodded hesitantly in reply and smiled up at her gratefully, and she gave me a wider smile of understanding in return. Her expression became indulgent as she ordered in her sweetest voice, "Lift your footsies and point your pretty pink toesies like a pretty ballerina again, baby girl." I obeyed her crooned commands without a second thought, and she slid my baby panties up my legs.

My exhausted mind was already drifting by the time April raised the barred side of my crib and locked me in. She grimaced and muttered; "I forgot to give you a drink after lunch, sweetie! Wait here." She thrust my dolly into my arms and I instinctively clutched Justine to my bosom, and then made sure my fluffy pink teddy was tucked under my bowed knees. "You just cuddle your baby like a good little girl, and I'll go and get you a drink right now."

I was so tired, I didn't care. I must have drifted off. The next thing I knew my drool-covered dummy teat was being gently plucked from between my pouting wet lips. The dripping nipple of my baby bottle was thrust in its place. "Here baby girl," April cooed encouragingly, as warm milk squirted into my mouth. "You have a lovely suck on your titty-bottle. That's it, darling. Good baby." She leaned over the high side railing and held the pink bottle for me until I released my grip on my baby. I slowly raised my hands to take the bottle from her, my arms heavy with fatigue.

"That's it, baby," she lovingly coaxed. "Hold your own bottle for Aunty April, Baby Jennie. That's right. What a good baby girl." When she released her grip on the full plastic bottle, I felt her fingers moving around the collar of my onesie and unclip my dummy chain. "I don't want you to dribble milk all over your clean onesie, so I'll just clip this on…" I realised she was turning me onto my side so she could fasten a clean bib behind my neck. I grunted in displeasure and bit harder on the streaming nipple to prevent it popping out of my mouth.

"It's alright, Baby Jennie," April tenderly crooned, rolling me onto my back again and gently smoothing the frilly bibbie over my breast. She reattached my dummy chain to the lacy bib collar and smiled down in pleasure at the picture of innocence I made, lying there sucking on my baby bottle in my pink crib. "You just keep sucking, baby. Mmm, that's right. Good baby, drink it all down. Drink down all the milk. What a good baby girl." The bib had an unfamiliar soft lace edging around the collar that tickled my neck. I reached up with my free hand and fingered the delicate material as I busily sucked and swallowed. I vaguely recalled Aunty Cath mentioning something about sewing some pretty lace trim on some of my bibbies, but I couldn't be bothered remembering exactly what she'd said. I closed my sleepy eyes and fantasised that I was sucking on Bonnie's huge tits instead of my baby bottle. I'm sure I fell asleep with Justine tucked under my arm before April walked out of the room.

* * * * *

From the size of the wet patch on my pillow and the crib sheets when Mummy woke me after my afternoon nap, a fair quantity of warm milk must have leaked out of my bottle while I slept like a baby. When I looked closely at the damp centre of my pastel-pink ballerina bed sheets, I realised my saturated nappy must have leaked, too. There was a dark wet patch about the size of a dinner plate in the middle of the fitted bottom sheet. I was momentarily grateful for the crackling plastic mattress protector Mummy had placed underneath me.

As soon as I was freshly diapered and dressed in a clean pink onesie, frilly anklet socks and pink sandshoes, Mummy lifted me down from the change table. She carelessly wiped away my tears and made me blow my snotty nose into my bib, pressing the lace-trimmed cotton cloth over my face until I obeyed her stern commands to blow. She ignored my continual blubbering, and she ordered me to carry my full nappy bucket downstairs and toss another load in the washing machine. The trip downstairs was even slower and more awkward than usual, due to the added bulk of the puffy disposable diaper inside my normal cloth nappies.

Mummy followed me downstairs carrying the wet pink sheets and pillowcase from my crib. She still looked cranky when she tossed them in the laundry tub to soak. I sucked on my dum-dums and avoided her irate green-eyed gaze. I threw my smelly saturated nappies into the washing machine, trying to stop the wide lace edge of my flapping bibbie from getting caught when I closed the lid. Mummy made me carry the heavy pink plastic washing basket full of freshly-washed nappies outside. She escorted me to the clothesline and lowered it till I could reach the wires.

"Hang all those nappies and baby panties out here on the line to dry, Baby Jennie," she ordered. When she saw my worried expression, she gave a brittle laugh. "Don't worry, little girl. Mummy will toss your clean nappies in the drier for a few minutes afterwards, to soften them up before you need to wear them again." I sniffed in derision. As if that was what was worrying me! She retired to the porch and watched me at the line for a few minutes, before slipping away unnoticed inside the house.

I hung up the laundered nappies and dripping baby panties, biting my dum-dums in humiliation at the embarrassing display of big baby items hanging out on our line for all the world to see. Well, for all our surrounding neighbours to see, anyway. There was one of Angelica's nappies and a few pairs of her baby panties hanging up, too, and the size difference between hers and mine was as plain as the nose on your face. I was startled to find a pair of red satin panties mixed in amongst my crackling plastic panties at the bottom of the basket. I blushed rosily as I collected the dripping knickers with trembling fingers. Fearful that Mummy was still watching me from the porch, I tried to concentrate on what I was doing. I daintily shook out the frilly ruffles and then timorously pegged them up, wondering what Mummy was going to say when she noticed the pretty big-girl panties hanging on the clothesline. After I hung up the last pair of my dripping pink baby panties, I heard a loud cough from nearby. I twirled around in alarm to see our neighbour, Mrs Smith, smiling and waving to me from next door.

A huge grin creased her chubby face, and she called out; "Yoo-hoo! Hello, Baby Jennie!" She stepped closer to the oleander bushes separating our back yards, smiling indulgently as she took in my feminine, infantile appearance. "Aww, look at you! What a good little baby girl you are, helping your Mummy with her washing. Such a good little helper for Mummy." Despite her praise I stumbled backwards in shame, acutely aware of how infantile I must look in my snug pink onesie, sandshoes and bib.

Ruth Smith raised her crinkled blue eyes from my bulging nappy crotch to the lacy bib covering my breast, where they lingered for a while. They shifted up to the huge pink dummy bobbing in my mouth, and then over the lines of wet washing hanging up behind me. She wore no hint of make-up, and her scraggly brown eyebrows arched and her bloodless lips pursed in question. "My, my! What a lot of big nappies and baby panties! Are they all yours, Baby Jennie?"
I turned to guiltily glance over my shoulder at the dozen hourglass-shaped cloth nappies flapping in the breeze. I whined in protest around my dum-dums; "No! They're not all mine. Thome of them are Angie'th," I mumbled sulkily, especially when I realised all the nappies hanging on the line were mine - except one.

"Hmmm. The girls were right. You really must be a heavy wetter." But then Ruth Smith smiled forgivingly and muttered, "Oh well. You do love your wet and poopy nappies, though. Don't you, Baby Jennie?" I didn’t realise she was reading the message embroidered on my frilly bibbie. Dismayed by the thoughtless manner in which she discussed my bladder and bowel control - or lack thereof - I hastily picked up the empty washing basket and turned and waddled wetly towards where Mummy waited beside the back door, as quickly as my bowed little legs would carry me. "I'll tell David to make sure to check your nappy before he puts you down for your afternoon nap tomorrow, precious," Mrs Smith called after my retreating back. I felt a jolt of terror at the thought of being babysat on Wednesday by her intolerant older son.

Mummy lingered on the back porch to chat with our nosey next-door neighbour After first replacing the empty plastic basket in the laundry, I was allowed to join my sister in the sunroom. Angie was lying on her side on the floor, cuddling her dolly Sophie and watching TV. She was wearing the same outfit she had worn to the dentist that morning; her favourite pastel-pink t-shirt, and her hot-pink shorts with the snaps in the crotch. Her head was resting on her old brown teddy, the one with the softest fur, and her sleepy blue eyes looked slightly glazed as she stared at the flickering screen. I read the message on her t-shirt; 'Mummy's Little Angel,' spelled out in alphabet blocks across the front, blissfully unaware there was a similar but more humiliating message embroidered across my own breast.

"My mouf hurts," Angie complained as soon as she saw me, and I cast her a sympathetic smile from around the wide pink guard of my dum-dums. I sat down beside my miserable sister in my soft comfy nappy and gently patted her puffy bottom. She gave me a sleepy appreciative smile in return. I sat there absent-mindedly caressing her warm diapered rear through her shorts while I watched a couple of episodes of "The Pony Club" with her. I'd never seen a whole episode, and I was touched by the way the girls in the show stood up for one another. I found myself wishing I was a girl, too, so I could have kind and helpful friends like them. Girls are so much nicer than boys, and everybody said I should have been born a girl.

When Mummy walked into the sunroom and handed me Justine, I gratefully accepted my dolly and cuddled her tightly. Angie seemed really down, so I suggested we play 'Mummies and Babies' to try and cheer her up. Although she seemed pretty despondent at first, her listless play gradually became more animated. By the time Mummy brought us something to drink, we were giggling and playing like two happy toddlers again. Our mother handed the purple sippy-cup to Angie, then threw me a grateful smile when she turned to me. "Here, Baby Jennie," Mummy softly offered, holding out my huge pink baby bottle full of watered-down apple juice. "You seemed to be enjoying your bottle so much while you were having your nap, I thought you might like to have a suck on your titty-bottle now, too."

I dropped my dolly to my lap and let my dum-dums tumble from my lips. My smiling Mummy pressed the dripping silicon nipple into my mouth. I slurped and swallowed noisily as I shyly accepted the full bottle of juice. It was so heavy I needed to hold it with both hands, but Mummy swiftly spotted my problem. "Here, baby girl. Let Mummy fix." She eased me onto my back on the plush sunroom carpet, and I abandoned my dolly. I lay back thirstily suckling from my titty-bottle while Angelica sat beside me, smiling gleefully from around the purple spout of her sippy-cup.

"Maybe from now on when we play 'Mummies and Babies,' I should be the mummy and you should be the baby all the time, Baby Jennie," Angie cheekily suggested, laughing brightly despite my dismayed expression. It was hard to keep frowning with a huge nipple gushing cool juice into my mouth, so I gave up and concentrated on not spilling any. "I'm more grown-up than you," my sister proudly boasted, placing Sophie on her back beside her. "I drink out of a sippy-cup, but you suck from a baby bottle," she giggled in derision, "and I don't need a bib - or a dummy."
"Angie, don't torment your baby sister," Mummy gently admonished her. "Play nicely together like good little girls. Okay, sweetie?"
"Okay Mummy," Angie agreed with a disarming grin. "I was just teasing the baby a little."

Mummy left us alone and after Angie drained her sippy-cup, she placed it aside and stood up. She toddled over to squat by my supine form. "Here, Baby Jennie," she cooed like a loving mother. "Let me help, baby." She took the half-full bottle from my clumsy grasp. I was so tired of holding it up, I readily let her take the heavy vessel. She crouched beside me and kept the clear silicon nipple pressed between my pouting pink lips, holding up the base of the bottle so that the contents easily drained down into the teat. "Good baby. What a good baby girl," she fondly crooned, speaking down to me as though I was her dolly Sophie. "You drink it all up for Mummy like a good baby girl."

Then Angie decided to change positions. "Wait a second," she announced, before unexpectedly plucking the dripping nipple from my lips. "Oops!" Juice squirted onto my face before she could tilt the bottle upright. She giggled as she wiped my sticky wet cheeks and chin with my dirty snotty bibbie. "Oh well," she chuckled carelessly. "That's why babies wear bibs, I guess." She wriggled closer and then lifted my head onto her little lap, then returned the spurting teat to my mouth.

"Mmm-mmm, yum-yums," Angie murmured encouragingly, smoothing my bibbie out on my breast with her free hand. "That's it, Baby Jennie. You drink down all your yummy juice for mummy like a good baby girl." She ran her fingertips over the embroidered alphabet blocks stitched to my bibbie, and fingered the delicate lace edging before commenting, "I like your new bib, baby. This pink lace trim is so soft and pretty. Oops! You keep sucking, baby. Mmm, good girl! That’s right. Keep drinking, Baby Jennie."

My tummy was starting to feel bloated after consuming so much liquid, but the tender way my sister spoke to me reminded me of my erotic dream during my afternoon nap. One hand moved almost by reflex to cup my heavily-padded groin, but strangely, I couldn't feel my swelling clittie underneath. Even though I knew it was growing bigger, I couldn't feel it - probably due to the added bulk of the swollen wet disposable between the damp cloth layers. The chromed onesie clips slid noisily over the slippery plastic panties underneath when I discretely rubbed my cupped palm up and down over where I knew my erection should have been. I passively lay there sucking distractedly as I fantasised about feeding from my bounteous cousin's lush bosom. I heard the sound of air being noisily drawn back through the collapsing nipple as I completely drained my baby bottle.

"Aww, what a charming sight! Look at our two gorgeous little girls playing 'Mummies and Babies' together!" Aunty Cath's warm compliment was tinged with sarcasm. I'm sure my sister was blissfully unaware of the fact when she beamed up happily at our buxom brunette relative. I snatched my naughty hand away from the bulging front of my nappy in shame and clutched my dolly. I defensively pressed her rubber body over my heavily padded groin. I fluttered my long black lashes and tried to look innocent, even as I felt my cheeks turning pink with embarrassment.

Aunty Cath was dressed in a similar fashion to Mummy, in some snug-fitting stretch blue jeans and a smart, red-and-white striped, boat-neck t-shirt. Her court shoes were fire-engine red, too, with a modest three-inch stiletto heel today. As usual her glossy red lipstick was a perfect match for her outfit, and her long, dark-brown hair was loosely bound in a sexy, untidy bun on top of her head.

"Baby Jennie is being my baby, and I'm being her mummy," Angie stated proudly, drawing another approving grin from Aunty Cath. She squatted beside us on her lithe long legs. Her jeans stretched tautly over her female cleft, cleaving her delicate folds when she let her womanly thighs drift apart.
"I'm sure you're being a very good mummy, Angelica," Aunty Cath lovingly assured my sister, her amused smile stretching her full red lips wider. She reached down to brush my dolly aside from my lap and crisply patted the front of my bulky nappies, and I fearfully wondered if she could tell I was hard and excited under the multiple thick wet layers. "Is Baby Jennie being a good little baby girl for her Mummy today?" Cath inquired in saccharine baby talk. She gave us another sly indulgent smile when Angie nodded enthusiastically and babbled about what a good baby girl I was being.

Aunty Cath continued patting my heavily padded crotch with her fingertips, and I shuddered at the sensuous vibrations transmitted through to my swollen erection. When she didn't seem to notice my clittie was hard and stiff beneath my warm nappies and baby panties, I gave a muted sigh of thanks. My sister finished wiping up the spilt juice on my chin with my damp bibbie, and my grinning Aunty leaned over me and straightened out the milk, snot, and juice-stained napkin over my breast. Her emerald-green eyes sparkled in wry amusement when she silently read the humiliating inscription she'd paid to have embroidered on my bib. Unfortunately, she failed to let me know what was written there.

"Hi Cath! Angelica is already turning into a very good little mother." Mummy praised my three-year-old sister from the kitchen doorway, and she beamed up at the smiling grown-ups in delight.
"It's probably just as well, since your Baby Jennie looks like she is going to be a baby forever," Aunty Cath noted snidely. Both adults snickered as I scowled sulkily and instinctively pushed the amber rubber teat of my baby soother between my pouting pink lips.

Cath stood and turned to face my mother with a sly smirk creasing her beautiful face. "I brought over a couple of Bonnie's old cotton sun dresses for your big baby girl. They aren't anything special, but since my daughters said that the yellow satin frock fitted Baby Jennie perfectly, I know these ones will, too. They're still in the car. I'll bring them inside in a minute, but I wanted to see what you thought of the alterations to the bibs, first," my Aunty mentioned with another devious smile.
"Oh, they're lovely!" Mummy cried in delight. "I haven't even put them away in the drawer, yet. They're still in the plastic bag on the kitchen bench. Oh, and I think Bonnie left your camcorder on top of the bench, too. Come on, I'll show you." She led my Aunty away, and a wet sigh of relief bubbled around the pink guard of my pacifier.

I continued playing with Angelica and our baby dolls, frequently distracted by the shrieks of bright feminine laughter we could hear coming from the next room. After a while, Angie wanted to know what was causing the grown-ups so much amusement. She stood up and wandered into the kitchen to see what all the noise was about. I remained in the sunroom sitting on my comfy wet bottom, cuddling my baby and sucking intently on my dum-dums. I stared mindlessly at the colourful cartoons blaring from the TV without actually seeing or hearing a thing. There was no way I was going out to the kitchen! I knew my predicament was probably the cause of all their merriment, and I didn't want my suspicions confirmed. I would rather sit here in my lovely warm wet nappy and remain blissfully ignorant.

I absent-mindedly fondled the puffy front of my bulging baby panties under my pink onesie, while I wondered what Bonnie and her friend Tammy were up to this afternoon. Even though I couldn't detect my stiffening clittie under the bulky layers, I loved the pleasant vibrations that were transmitted through the damp warmth to my sensitive swelling organ when I cupped my hand and firmly patted my crotch with my fingers - like Aunty Cath had done earlier. I tried to imagine what Bonnie might have been doing between Tammy's legs to make her girlfriend squeal and moan with excitement this morning. As I pictured them cavorting on the bed together, I dimly recalled how her sister April had made the same kind of weird noises when Bonnie had pressed her face between the raven-haired beauty's splayed thighs, all those years ago. I discretely rocked back and forth in my bulky warm swaddling as my clittie stiffened. I firmly patted my crotch, thrilled by the erotic sensations from my swollen clittie when the sensitive underside rubbed against the warm wet cloth.

For the first time I realised that Bonnie and Tammy might have been having sex - although at the time, I had no idea what that really meant. I only knew sex was something naughty that the bigger boys often whispered about at school, and sniggered over in small groups. Whenever I tried to join in their muted conversations, I had always been told; "Piss off, Jeremy, you sissy poofter! You're too little to understand what we're talking about." They would snicker nastily and toss mocking comments at my retreating back when I scurried away, head bowed in shame. It was just one of the many cruel ways my peers at school used to deride my small stature and immature looks. I sighed with regret when I realised that they probably wouldn't have treated me that way if I was a petite pretty girl, instead of a scrawny, effeminate boy. Not for the first time I found myself wishing fervently that I’d been born a girl.

My daydreams were interrupted when Angie came dancing back into the room, grinning and holding a fresh, lace-lavished white bibbie in her hands. "Here, baby girl," she cooed, stepping behind me to unfasten the dirty bib from around my neck. The snap clips behind my neck parted with a loud 'pop!' "Mummy said it's almost time for din-dins, so she told me to put a clean bibbie on you." I felt my cheeks grow warm again as my sister competently changed my bibbie for me, making me feel even smaller and more useless than usual. "There you go, Princess Potty-pants," she announced with a pleased smile, and I wondered where she had dug up that demeaning title. Then I vaguely remembered; I had called my sister something like that when Mummy was trying to potty-train her, a couple of weeks ago. Although at that moment, it felt like months ago to me!

I noticed my grinning Aunty watching us from the kitchen doorway, and Cath nodded in approval when Angie stepped in front of me and tucked my dirty pink bib under one arm. "Come on, Baby Jennie," my smiling sister commanded, holding out her little hands for mine. "Come with me into the kitchen, Princess Potty-pants," she cooed like a loving mother, as she clumsily helped me to my feet. Angie kept hold of my hand and dragged me along like a sulky toddler, and I sucked harder on my dum-dums in embarrassment as I slowly waddled along behind her. I glanced down, relieved that my stiff clittie was completely concealed by the thickness of my damp nappies. Despite my arousal, it was so humiliating when my little sister treated me like I was the baby - not her.

Before I toddled two steps into the kitchen, Aunty Cath knelt in front of me to block my path. "You go and stand by your booster seat and wait for Mummy, precious," our Aunty crooned to my sister, "while I check your baby sister's nappy." She turned back to me and sang, "Let Aunty check that nap-nap, Princess Potty-pants." I obediently paused in front of Cath and thrust out my crotch towards her, leaning my shoulders back and spreading my feet wide to make it easier for her to inspect my diaper. "Good girl, Baby Jennie," Aunty Cath murmured in approval, as she slid one finger under my onesie crotch and inside the leg band of my pink plastic panties. "What a helpful Princess Potty-pants." She looked and sounded surprised when she announced, "Good heavens! This nappy still feels dry!" The expression on my face must have indicated my mutual disbelief. I could feel the familiar comforting warmth bunched around my sensitive genitals.

"I put one of Angie's disposable diapers between Baby Jennie's cloth nappies, to act as an extra soaker pad," Mummy informed her confused big sister from beside the stove. "My Princess Potty-pants is such a heavy wetter, you know? Those toddler disposables hold a fair volume of urine, so it may not have seeped through to the outer cloth layer yet. Unclip Baby Jennie's onesie and reach down inside the waistband of her nappies, and check inside the front as well," Mummy suggested. Her big sister reached down and deftly unsnapped the chromed fasteners between my legs, and let the stretchy cotton onesie flaps fly apart. I stumbled backwards, and Aunty Cath swiftly grabbed me by my wide padded hips to prevent me tumbling over.

"Careful, baby," she cautioned me, gripping me tightly and drawing me closer. I was trying to back away from her before she could put her hand inside my nappy. I didn't want her to discover I was still hard and throbbing down there! I desperately tried to will away my irrepressible erection before she noticed. "Hold up the flap of your onesie for Aunty Cath, Baby Jennie, like a good little girl," Cath ordered in sugary baby tones.

When I reluctantly obeyed and held the front flap against my bibbie, she lifted aside the tight elastic waistband of my pink baby panties with one hand. She slipped her other hand inside the front of my tightly-pinned nappies. I realised I was automatically sucking in my tummy and arching my back, making it easier for Aunty to check inside my diaper - like Tammy in the park this morning, when Bonnie wanted to slip her naughty fingers inside her girlfriend's nappies before she wet them. Despite willing my stiffie to go down, it swelled noticeably when I thought of Tammy and Bonnie playing their erotic games in public.

"Oh yes," Cath informed my mother, with a smile and a nod of admiration for her expertise. "Our Princess Potty-pants is wet, alright! Just not enough to wet through, yet." I frowned around my dummy teat in annoyance, wondering; 'Why was everyone calling me that?' Aunty Cath's searching fingers brushed against my slowly diminishing erection, and her perfectly-plucked eyebrows crawled up her forehead in horror. She frowned and gazed menacingly at my cowering expression with those disdainful emerald eyes.

I'm sure my cheeks were crimson with shame when she loudly exclaimed, "Oh-oh!" She turned her hand inside my lovely warm nappy to curl her fingers around the pulsating hardness she'd discovered. I shuddered uncontrollably at the rush of sensations from my sensitive semi-stiff clittie and tried to back away. "What's this I can feel in your nappy, Baby Jennie?" Her icy tone made Mummy turn to glare at me. My big blue eyes were rimmed with shameful tears as I dropped my humiliated gaze to the grey linoleum tiles around my pink sandshoes. "Well?" Aunty Cath ruthlessly demanded. "What's this, you naughty little baby girl?"

"My cwittie," I whispered, too ashamed to look at her beautiful frowning face.
"Your what?" Aunty cried, uncertain that she'd heard correctly. She gave the object under discussion another hard warning squeeze.
"Ouch!" I yelped in anguish as my dum-dums popped out, perversely hoping the pain had a salutary effect on my uncontrollable tool. "Oh Aunty Cath! It- It'th my clittie! My clittie," I whimpered in shame. I sighed in thanks when she relaxed her terrible grip on my excitable organ. She stood to wipe her pee-damp hand on my frilly bib, frowning and shaking her head in dismay as she made way for my mother.

"What's wrong?" Mummy demanded, standing over me and frowning down at my bowed head and guilt-ridden posture.
"Your naughty, wet baby girl has a bit of a stiff… clittie, I think she called it," replied Cath, snickering in derision at my use of the feminine term for my masculine appendage.
"Her clittie?" My mother repeated in disbelief, "She called it her clittie? Oh my!" My cheeks were blazing with embarrassment when Aunty Cath sniggered and nodded. Mummy sneered and slowly nodded her head in understanding. "But then I guess my Princess Potty-pants would call it that - seeing as she's such a sissy baby girl. Aren't you, Baby Jennie?" The angry blonde stepped over and crouched down closer to me, and in moments her hand was delving inside the front of my warm wet nappy, too.

Fortunately the humiliation of being caught red-handed with an erection in my comfy wet nappy had already caused my clittie to considerably wilt. By the time Mummy wrapped her cold fingers around my shrinking shaft, it had almost returned to normal size. "Harrumph," she snorted crankily, as she squeezed my rubbery tool painfully hard. "What a bad little baby girl." I squealed in fresh agony and ineffectually tried to pull away from her vicious grasp, trapped like a fish on a hook until she released me. She withdrew her hand and plunged it inside my crackling baby panties down the front, checking the outer layer of cloth at the crotch and reassuring herself it wasn't wet, too.

"She's still mostly dry on the outside, Cath, as you said. That's good," Mummy concluded with a tight smile, while she washed her hands at the kitchen sink. My smirking Aunty knelt in front of me once more and clipped my onesie crotch back together again. "That nappy will easily last her until bath time tonight. It means I won't have to change Baby Jennie's wet nappies quite so often in future."
"Hmm," Aunty Cath commented with a hint of uncertainty, as she likewise washed and dried her hands. "But that means your wicked little baby girl will be able to enjoy her hot wet nappies for longer."
"Possibly," Mummy agreed, but when she smiled, it never reached her cool, olive-green eyes. "But then my naughty little girl is more likely to get nappy rash, too, you know?"

Aunty Cath chuckled nastily at that threatening titbit of information, and then she lifted me into my pink wooden highchair and buckled me in with the worn white leather restraining straps. She dropped my dummy in a glass of water on the kitchen bench and then returned to straighten the lace-edged bib over my breast, smiling in delight at the results of her humiliating handiwork

Mummy took my dirty bibbie from Angie's hands and tossed it onto the kitchen bench, and then she lifted my sister into her booster seat. I learned that Angelica's mouth was still too sore for her to chew properly, so Mummy had thoughtfully defrosted some of her home-made butternut pumpkin soup for dinner tonight. Aunty Cath inserted the pink wooden tray in place, sliding it in towards my tummy until the spring bolts noisily clicked into their slots. The adults were obviously eating later, as they both took their time looking after Angie and me. My smirking Aunty approached stirring my pink rubber spoon into my favourite Barbie bowl, crooning, "Open wide, Princess Potty-pants! Here comes some lovely-wovely din-dins." Cath slowly fed me a huge bowl of warm orange puree which I gobbled hungrily, ignoring the condescending way she treated me. She sometimes intentionally missed my mouth, making sure my cheeks, chin, and bib were soon stained bright orange. There were crusty warm bread rolls, too, that Aunty tore into tiny bite-sized pieces for me, as though I was incapable of chewing properly.

I noted with spiteful pleasure that Mummy had to feed Angie the last few mouthfuls of her pumpkin soup, when my whining sister began complaining that she didn't want to eat any more. At least I wasn't the only one being spoon-fed my dinner like a helpless toddler; although I'm sure my face looked a thousand times worse by the time we were finished eating. Aunty Cath cackled with malicious amusement when she roughly wiped my messy face clean with my frilly bibbie, holding the back of my head with her other hand so I couldn't pull away.

"Our Princess Potty-pants is such a messy eater," she scolded me, before letting the orange-stained cloth drop to my breast. When Mummy filled Angie's purple sippy-cup with warm milk, my Aunty disappeared into the sunroom, and she returned a few moments later carrying my empty baby bottle. "Bonnie told me she'd bought a big pink baby bottle for your new baby girl, but I didn't realise how huge it was," Cath commented with a pleased smile, unscrewing the pink cap. She pulled out the clear teat and rinsed all the pieces under hot water, and then held out the plastic bottle for my mother to fill with warm milk.
"Well, big babies need big bottles, I guess," Mummy replied with a disdainful sniff, as her sister screwed the pink cap securely in place.

"Bonnie told me where she bought it, at the mall," my Aunty continued, as she pressed the spurting silicon nipple to my messy stained lips. Remembering the last time Aunty Cath fed me, I made no move to take the humiliating pink bottle from her hands. I meekly kept my tiny palms on the highchair tray in front of me, and desperately swallowed the warm milk gushing down my throat. The pretty pink polish on my neatly manicured nails sparkled attractively in the light, and I admired the way they glistened and shined when I wiggled my fingertips.

"I might drop into that medical supply store tomorrow, and buy a couple more," Aunty decided, tilting my bottle up so that I was forced to lift my chin and raise my humiliated gaze to her cold smiling face. She was staring at me with those heartless emerald eyes, and I knew I was cringing in embarrassment as she bottle-fed me as like a useless infant. "It's always useful to have a few spare baby bottles for your special big baby girl."
"My special Princess Potty-pants," Mummy concluded with a sardonic smile, as she measured out some cloudy white medicine onto a tablespoon. She checked the label before replacing the cap one-handed, then placed the clear bottle of milky liquid on the windowsill.

Mummy approached Angie with one hand cupped under the spoon, and carefully aimed it between my sister's lips. ""Open up sweetie, and swallow this medicine all down. It will make your mouth stop hurting, and help you to get to sleep," she reassured my hesitant little sister. Angie pulled a face after she swallowed it, but then Mummy handed her the purple sippy-cup full of warm milk. Angie gratefully crammed the spout in her mouth and started gulping to wash away the taste.

With nothing to do but suckle like a helpless baby from my titty-bottle, I idly gazed around the room. My eyes dropped to the dirty bib lying on the kitchen bench. I admired the pretty pale-pink trimmings Aunty Cath had sewn on, and then I caught sight of the red baby block pattern embroidered across the badly-stained front. The letters on the alphabet blocks looked like they formed words… Because it was upside-down to me and slightly crumpled, it took me a few minutes to decipher the message written there. ‘I love my wet and poopy nappi-’ That was all I managed to read, and my face began to burn with mortification when I remembered Aunty Cath promising to have some 'cute messages' embroidered on my bibbies, too.

As soon as my grinning Aunty plucked the nipple of my empty bottle from my pursed lips, I glanced down at the orange-stained bibbie covering my breast, to see if it, too, carried an embarrassing inscription. When I lifted it by the pink lace-edged bottom and read upside-down, 'Princess Potty-pants,’ the mortifying message in hot-pink silk lettering three inches high, I abruptly understood why everyone was addressing me by my shameful new title. I frowned sulkily as I fearfully wondered; 'How many bibs did Mummy give Aunty Cath to alter? And how many different humiliating messages were embroidered there for everyone to read?' To my everlasting shame, I knew I was soon destined to find out.

To be continued in chapter 16

Baby Jennie

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

Chapter 16. Confession Time

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To be continued in chapter 17.

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

Synopsis; The mean boy from next door comes over to babysit Baby Jennie and Angelica. David invites his girlfriend over to help humiliate Baby Jennie, but things don't go as planned.

Chapter 17. Come to Daddy

A few minutes later I was lying back on the change table upstairs in the Nursery, and Mummy was tugging down my shiny satin panties and my wetproof rubber knickers. She whisked them free of my compliantly-raised feet without bothering to remove my red strappy sandals first, and she looked pleased when she couldn't find any nasty stains on my rustling white rubber panties. She was brisk and efficient as she peeled the dirty wet nappies away from my bottom with a resigned sigh. She decided not to strip me completely, assuring me; "I don't have time to wash that dirty bot-bot in the bath right now, sweetie. Mummy will just give you a quick wipe-down for the moment, and she'll give you a lovely hot bath after your afternoon nap. Okay, baby?"

I realised it didn't really matter what I wanted, so I chewed contentedly on my dum-dums and didn't bother replying. Mummy disposed of the liners and rinsed the messy nappies in the bathroom, and then tossed them in the bucket under the change table. She made short work of cleaning my poopy botty and between my legs. Because I hadn't had time to sit in my stinky mess, it wasn't smeared all over the place as usual. Mummy made quick work of wiping me down with a handful of cool moist baby wipes. I kind of missed the close loving attention when she was forced to thoroughly clean every grubby nook and cranny of my sensitive areas, after I'd managed to mash my sticky poo-poos all over the place down there. She arranged a fresh crackling disposable diaper between the fluffy cloth layers, before sliding the thick wad of clean nappies under my helpfully-raised rear.

"Good girl. And botty down, baby. That’s it." Mummy grabbed my ankles and tilted my legs back, raising my bottom to position the blue disposable nappy liners correctly. She kept my feet poised in the air while she used a wipe-covered finger to better clean my delicate rosebud. When she poked her longest finger right inside my sensitive boy-pussy, I gasped at the stimulating intrusion and wriggled my little legs in consternation. Mummy's iron grip on my ankles was too secure. "Shh, baby girl! Shhh. Mummy needs to make sure you're lovely and clean back here, too, darling. Shhh."

Every time she gently but firmly inserted her sheathed finger into my boy-pussy and wiggled it around, my excitable little clittie thickened and jerked with arousal. By the time she lowered my feet to the padded table, my swelling tool was already red and hard. She only smiled tightly and gave her head a tiny shake of bemusement. "My special little girl has such a sensitive little rosebud," she cooed, chuckling at my embarrassed expression and my rosy pink cheeks. She merely smiled indulgently as she covered my straining clittie with a heavy coating of baby powder. She rubbed the lightly-perfumed talc over my bobbing stiffy and trembling tummy, before covering my bruised botty cheeks in a thick white layer, too.

I don't know why I glanced towards the doorway to the landing. It might have been a tiny noise, or the strange feeling that I was being watched. When I gasped and jerked in fear, Mummy's olive-green eyes snapped towards where I was staring in wide-eyed horror. David was leaning in the Nursery doorway with a peculiar grin twisting his handsome features, his muscular arms folded over his broad manly chest. "David!" Mummy cried in alarm. I was grateful when she automatically covered my aroused genitals with the front flap of my clean nappy. "How long…? Why…? What are you doing upstairs? I thought I told you to keep an eye on Angelica?" Moments later my thick comfy nappy was being pinned snugly over my embarrassing stiff clittie. I quietly sighed in relief.

"Mike is looking after Angie in the back yard, Mrs R. Don't worry about her," he replied with a lazy grin. His bright blue eyes were hooded by half-closed lids, and he wore a sleepy, insolent expression that was almost offensive. There was something about his tone and attitude I didn't like, but I assumed it was just me.
"Go and wait for me downstairs," Mummy coldly ordered him. "When I'm paying you to be the babysitter, I expect you to look after my girls - not your little brother!"
"Sure, sure, Mrs R. Sorry." He held up his calloused palms to placate her, and gave her a smarmy smile before he backed out of the Nursery. We both heard his heavy tread fading downstairs, and I thought I caught a muffled snicker of amusement.
"I'm not sure I trust that boy," Mummy sniffed in annoyance. "I don't think we'll hire him as a babysitter after today. Not if your cousins are available, anyway."

The same two pairs of panties were pulled over the top of my bulky swaddling. Mummy remembered to heavily powder my thighs first, too, so the clinging rubber knickers slid up my legs more easily. She lifted me down from the change table smelling sweetly of baby powder, and took my hand to lead me back downstairs. "It's almost lunchtime now, so I might as well lock you straight into your highchair, Baby Jennie. Come along, darling," she urged me. She helped me waddle down the hallway before dragging me into the kitchen and lifting me into the humiliating pink contraption. As soon as I was safely buckled in and the heavy wooden tray inserted, Mummy stepped to the back door. She called through the screen door, "David! Undo Angie's harness and bring her inside, will you? I'll get lunch ready for the girls now. I've made enough for you and Michael too, if you'd like some?"

Mummy had cooked beef stew and steamed white jasmine rice for lunch, which smelled delicious bubbling on the stove. She measured out four healthy servings into some bright blue plastic bowls. She placed two on the kitchen bench, one on my highchair tray, and another in front of Angie - after David had lifted her into her booster seat. "I won't have time to feed the baby," Mummy complained, nodding pointedly in my direction after a quick glance at her wristwatch. "See this bottle, David?" She asked, stepping to the sink and holding up the glass bottle full of milky liquid from the window sill. When he nodded, she carefully explained; "This is codeine - medicine for Angie, for her sore mouth. Make sure she has half a spoonful after lunch, but before her sippy cup of warm milk. It's a painkiller, and will help her get to sleep quickly. Alright?"
"Yes Ma'am," the blond Adonis obediently replied, the absolute model of politeness. His brother Michael thoughtfully took out some forks from the cutlery drawer and distributed them around.

"Good boy, Mikey," Mummy said, with a fond smile of approval for my younger friend. She turned back to the muscular hunk. "David, you can put the girls down for their afternoon naps about ten minutes after they finish lunch. I should be back before they wake up. Okay, David?" She demanded, insisting on confirmation and waiting impatiently until he nodded obediently.
"Yes Ma'am. Okay."
"Baby Jennie should be right, but Angie will probably need a change of diaper before her nap. Alright, I better get going. Oh, Baby Jennie's bottle is still in the back yard. She'll need it for her milk after lunch, okay? I must run, or I'm going to be late. Goodbye girls," she cooed, gently kissing us both on the cheek in farewell.

"No, Mummy! Don't go!" I whined like a pathetic pre-schooler. Hot tears sprang unbidden from my eyes. I held out my arms imploringly and leaned towards her as far as the tight seatbelt strap and the restrictive highchair tray would allow. "Don't go, Mummy! Don't weave me!" I childishly pleaded, waving my little hands in desperate entreaty. "Pweathe don't weave me, Mummy?"
"Aww! It's okay, darling," Mummy crooned to me like I was a petulant toddler. "I have to leave for a little while. Don't cry, baby. Aww, my poor little girl." She wiped away my tears with my baby-pink bibbie, before cuddling me close and softly pecking my damp cheek again. "Mummy will be back soon, precious; don't worry! I'll be home before you wake up from your nap, honey. I promise! You'll hardly know I was gone, okay?" She gently pinched my blushing pink cheek to wipe away the lipstick mark and smiled reassuringly, despite the concern I could see radiating from her olive-green eyes. She peeled my little arms from around her neck, gave my hands a reassuring squeeze, and stepped back.

"Don't worry about your little girls," David suggested with a cheeky grin that was almost a leer. "They'll settle down as soon as you're gone - just like all toddlers."
Mummy disdainfully raised one perfect arched eyebrow at his unwanted, unsolicited advice. She froze him with a withering glare before turning to us again. "Make sure you behave like good little girls for your babysitter today. Alright, girls?" When I sniffled in misery and we both nodded obediently, she gave us a hurried wave and rushed down the hallway, searching for her keys and handbag. She yelled on departing; "Bye, everybody! Back soon." As soon as we heard the front door slam closed behind her, David turned to me with a malicious grin twisting his handsome features.
"Right," he growled decisively, and reached for the cell phone in his back pocket.

"Baby Jennie's not allowed to feed herself," Angie piped up unnecessarily. "She's too little." My face flushed warmly with embarrassment when I contemplated David trying to spoon-feed me my lunch.
I was grateful when Michael kindly offered, "Don't worry, Dave. I'll do it." He picked up my untouched fork from the highchair tray and tossed it back in the cutlery drawer, and took out one of the familiar pink, rubber-coated spoons and held it up with a cheeky grin. "This one looks like it belongs to you, Baby Jennie." I bit my temperamental bottom lip to stop it poking out like a sulky toddler's, and meekly nodded.
"You can feed the big sissy baby. I've gotta make a quick call," David announced with a smug smirk, and he disappeared into the sunroom punching numbers into his mobile phone.

I tried not to look totally humiliated while Michael carefully spoon-fed me my tasty hot lunch, between cramming forkfuls of yummy minced beef stew and rice between his own smiling lips. I could vaguely hear David chatting on his phone to someone in the next room, but I couldn't understand what he was saying. I concentrated on eating 'grown-up' food for the first time in days, secretly thrilled that Mummy hadn't had time to spoon-feed me my usual two jars of bland toddler rubbish. Nevertheless, when David strode back into the kitchen several minutes later with a self-satisfied smirk twisting his sensuous full lips, I knew enough to start worrying. He sat at the kitchen bench and began wolfing down his stew, ignoring Michael while he quietly fed me my entire meal like I was a helpless infant. By the time we'd finished eating my tummy was full. Even Angie had difficulty emptying her bowl. Michael slipped outside and returned in a few moments carrying my empty baby bottle, which he took to the sink and carefully washed and rinsed.

As soon as David finished gobbling down the remaining contents of both pots on the stove, he took Angie's plate and fork away. The handsome teenager grabbed the medicine bottle from the window sill and the dessert spoon Mummy had left beside it in readiness. With a start of fear, I realised it was the same spoon Mummy and Bonnie had been using to try and tame my uncontrollable stiff clittie! I shuddered at the mere sight of it. He loaded the shiny steel utensil with milky liquid, and then held it to my sister's pursed, cupid's-bow lips. "Here you go, kid. Open up…" He scowled in annoyance when she clamped her lips shut in refusal. She turned up her pert little nose and twisted her pretty face away, but then he grinned nastily and approached me instead. "Look, Angie baby," he coaxed, unleashing his megawatt smile on my reluctant sister. "Your sissy baby sister doesn't mind. Watch this. Open up, Bedwetter Baby Jennie… Open wide for daddy… "

Even though I didn't need or want any medicine, I obediently opened my mouth. I was locked in my highchair with nowhere to go - what choice did I have? After he pressed the fully-loaded dessert spoon to my pink-stained lips and tilted it up, I quickly swallowed. For my sister's sake, I tried hard not to pull a face at the horrid taste. David then went through the motions of pouring another dose from the bottle, but from my vantage point in my highchair, I could clearly see the spoon remained empty. "Look, Angie baby," he insisted craftily, and mimed pouring some medicine down his own throat, then noisily fake-swallowed and smiled enticingly. "See? Even I can take it." This time he half-filled the utensil for real, and offered it to her while crooning temptingly; "C'mon, Angie baby! Open wide for daddy…"

Casting David a small scowl for his presumptuousness, my sister reluctantly let him slip the loaded spoon into her open mouth and tip it up. Angie pursed her cupid's bow lips like a cat's bum after she swallowed her medicine, then she shook her head violently in disgust. When Michael quickly handed her the purple sippy-cup full of warm milk straight from the microwave, she urgently gulped down a mouthful to wash away the nasty taste.

Michael gave me my warm pink baby bottle with a small sympathetic smile. I tentatively smiled back at him as I gratefully accepted it. I clutched the huge bottle with both tiny paws and shoved the clear silicon teat in my mouth just as greedily as Angie. I leaned back in my highchair and sucked hard, and I didn't care how infantile I looked at that moment. The cloudy white medicine wasn't pleasant, and I was glad to wash away the yucky taste with a mouthful of warm sweet milk. By the time Angie drained her sippy-cup, I was only half-way through my huge baby bottle. As Michael gently washed my sister's face and hands with a warm soapy washer, we heard the front doorbell ring. Every head swivelled towards the unexpected sound, although from the way our babysitter's handsome face lit up, I knew David had been expecting a visitor. I regretted that we hadn't already been put down for our regular afternoon naps before anybody else found out about my humiliating baby punishment.

The muscular young teen dashed out of the room, and we heard him open the front door and effusively greet someone. When the handsome lad returned to the kitchen a minute later, he was swaggering like he owned the place. He grinned smugly as he finished explaining, "Because of the codeine in the medicine, they'll both be out like lights, soon. If you can change the little one's diaper and put her down for her nap first, Connie, we can have a little fun…" The pretty girl following David into the kitchen was one of our neighbours from across the road. She lived about a half-dozen houses down the street from us, and I didn't know her well. I think her family only moved into our neighbourhood sometime early last year. I plucked the spurting rubber teat from my mouth and clutched my baby bottle in fear, holding it upright so no more milk would leak out.

Connie looked around the same age as David, except she was about six inches shorter. She was wearing a long hot-pink t-shirt from Maui beach in Hawaii, with bright tropical flowers painted over her plump jiggling bosom. Her iridescent pink top almost covered the tiny stonewashed denim shorts I could scarcely see peeping out from underneath. She was wearing a pair of cute, pastel-pink sneakers similar to my own, tied with fluffy pink laces, too. She had short, dark-brown hair cut in a boyish bob, but her face was pretty enough to get away with it. Connie had a slight overbite that made her plump painted lips pout attractively, and seemed to keep her mouth from ever completely closing. Her wide staring eyes were dark-brown, too, with thick black, mascara-lengthened lashes beneath fine dark, perfectly-arched eyebrows. Under a short, upturned snub nose that was almost piggish, her permanently-parted lips were painted with glossy hot-pink lipstick to match her top.

"Hi Connie," Michael quietly greeted the toothy grinning girl, while he rinsed the washcloth at the sink. She gave him a friendly wave and was about to say something before his hulking big brother intervened.
"I forgot you were still here, squirt. You can piss off home now, okay? Rack off home to mummy," David rudely ordered, frowning severely to emphasise his harsh dismissive words.
Michael gave me a discrete shrug of his shoulders and grimaced in resignation as if to say; 'What else can I do?' "See ya, Baby Jennie. Bye Connie, bye-bye Angie," Michael reluctantly farewelled us. He tossed the steaming washcloth on my tray and gave me a sad little wave before he disappeared out the back door.

The girl named Connie stepped over to where I sat cowering silently in my highchair, and her big brown eyes flew wide in disbelief as she read aloud the humiliating message embroidered on my stained bibbie. "Huh! 'Bedwetter Baby Jennie!' Holy shi- shivers!" She exclaimed in amazement, chewing a mouthful of gum like a cow chewing cud. I could clearly see every one of her large white teeth. "You were right, David! She's the biggest goddamn baby I've ever seen!"
"Yeah, I told you," David snickered with malicious satisfaction, his startling blue eyes gleaming with mischief. "But you don't have to worry about her - I mean, him. Mike spoon-fed the big sissy baby her lunch, and her mummy just changed her nappy before she left. But this one," he said, lifting Angie out of her booster seat as though she weighed nothing at all and placing her gently on the floor; "This one needs changing before her afternoon nap - which should be in about ten minutes, anyway."

"Okay, I'll change her diaper and put her down for her nap," Connie readily agreed, smiling invitingly and holding out her hand for Angie to take. "Hi, I'm Connie. What's your name, sweetie? You're such a pretty little thing."
"I'm Angie," my sister softly replied, sounding like she was talking with a mouth full of cotton wool. "That's my baby sister Baby Jennie in her highchair. It's her nap time, too." She smiled sleepily and pointed at me, before accepting the girl's offered hand.
"Aren't you pretty, Angie? And your sister, too! They're both gorgeous," the brunette teen commented in apparent surprise to David. "I love their cute matching polka-dot dresses - but I thought you said one of them was a teenage boy?"
The cruel sneering teenager pointed at me and snorted with withering contempt. "He is!"

Connie glanced unbelievingly at me again. When she noticed me cowering in my pink highchair, my head bowed and my cheeks blazing with shame, a confused smile crept across her pretty pug face. She threw a quick frown at the smirking hulk standing beside her, then looked closely at me again as she chewed her gum more thoughtfully. She began to slowly shake her head in disbelief. She turned to my sister instead of responding and asked, "Why don't you show me where your clean diapers are kept, Angie?" Connie let herself be dragged upstairs to the Nursery with a gay laugh, leaving me alone in the kitchen with the brawny, tousle-haired youth. Handsome David leered menacingly at me, and I defensively held up my bottle of warm milk. I pressed the teat between my trembling lips and sucked hard. I felt my insides shrivel in fear even as another comforting warm stream spurted from my twitching little clittie into my thirsty damp nappies.

Fortunately the beefy teenager ignored me for the interim. He contented himself with opening a fresh bottle of milk from the fridge, and he thirstily drained the whole bottle without bothering to use a glass. David left the refrigerator door open and leaned on it as he drank. He nosily poked through the contents of our fridge, probably looking for something more to eat. The huge blond hunk found some leftovers and ate them straight out of the plastic tubs with his fingers. He carelessly tossed the empty containers in the sink. He grimaced and wiped his greasy hands on the seat of his baggy black shorts when he finished eating.

Ever since David started working out with his weights, he always seemed to be starving. I finally drained my huge baby bottle, and quietly set it on my highchair tray so as not to disturb him. I slowly sat back, my little tummy feeling bloated and full. When I belched uncontrollably, David slammed the fridge door closed and whirled menacingly towards me. I cringed under his disgusted glare. Luckily he was distracted by the sound of Connie bouncing down the stairs, and a few seconds later the pretty brunette strolled into the kitchen looking pleased with herself.

"That's one down for the count," she announced with a toothy smile of satisfaction, and she took away my empty bottle and imperiously handed it to David. "Wash that out in the sink and rinse it thoroughly, and then fill her bottle with cold water. Then bring it upstairs for the baby, will you? It's her nap time, too." He snorted in annoyance at being so casually ordered around, but she either didn't notice or didn’t care. Connie was preoccupied wiping my face with my stained bibbie, but she was gentle as a lamb while she scrubbed a sticky spot from my chin with the cooling damp washcloth. "Bedwetter Baby Jennie, eh?" She teased me again before she removed my dirty bibbie, tossing the humiliating item on the kitchen bench. She grinned as my cheeks burned red with shame.

After brushing my drooping blonde pigtails back over my ears, she commented enviously, "I love your beautiful diamond stud earrings, sweetie!" She fumbled with the hidden catches under my pink tray, removed it, and then set the heavy wooden item aside, leaning it against the legs of my highchair. She unfastened the white leather seatbelt from behind me and pushed it and the crotch strap out of the way. She helped me clamber down from the pink padded seat with a grunt of effort. "Gees you're a big baby!" She complained, smiling to take the sting out of her words. She took my hand to lead me into the hallway.

"No, no!" I squeaked plaintively in protest. "Pweathe, I need my dum-dumth!" I urgently pointed to where it was sitting in the glass of water on the kitchen bench, wailing, "I need my dum-dumth!" She chortled disparagingly as she grabbed it by the dangling pink plastic chain, and she shoved the dripping amber teat in my waiting open mouth.

Connie chewed on her gum as I gratefully chewed on my dummy teat. She snatched my hand again and dragged me down the hallway towards the staircase. I was awkward as a two-year-old as I clumsily mounted the first step. When I timidly glanced up at her while we slowly climbed the stairs, she was grinning down at my unavoidable wide-legged waddle. "How old are you really, Baby Jennie?" Connie demanded quietly. Before I could respond, she commented in a confident voice, "You look like you could be about six or seven - even though you're dressed like a two-year-old, and you act like one, too! Are you truly thirteen? You can't be!" She asked the questions like she'd already made up her mind, and who was I to disillusion her?

I nervously glanced down the stairs behind us to check David wasn't within earshot, and I almost overbalanced. I wobbled alarmingly on my wide-splayed sandalled feet, squealing and swinging my free arm violently to try and stop myself tumbling backwards down the stairs. Connie grabbed my back to support me and I clutched her hand tighter in fear, gasping with relief when she caught me. I made sure I was steady before I softly replied around my dum-dums in my best, highest, little-girl voice; "My name ith Baby Jennie and I'm onwy thix yearth old." I meekly glanced up at her from under half-closed lids, batting my long black lashes innocently and pouting prettily like the shy little girl I secretly wanted to be.
"Huh! I thought so," she muttered darkly, with a quick frown of annoyance obviously not directed at me. "That's what your sister told me, too. Imagine that doofus David trying to convince me you were a teenager! Or a boy! What a joke!" She gave a brittle laugh, but I didn't think she was actually amused when she muttered, "A stupid, bad joke."

Despite her ready acceptance of my lies, my tell-tale cheeks were turning a darker shade of red with my every awkward wobbling step. I lowered my guilt-filled blue eyes and kept my humiliated gaze on the carpeted steps that presented such a challenge to me today. "That idiot didn't have to lie to me, to talk me into coming over here to help. What a dickhead!" Connie abruptly seemed to remember she was holding my hand. She turned to me and apologised, ignoring the pleased smile she must have detected stretching past the pink guard of my dum-dums. "Sorry, sweetie. You know you shouldn't say naughty words like that. Only grown-ups can say bad words like that, you know? But tell me, Baby Jennie - why are you still wearing nappies, if you're already like, six years old?"

I felt a wave of tiredness wash over me as we slowly shuffled along the landing, and my mouth felt strangely dry, despite all the fluids I had recently consumed. "I can't thtop wetting the bed or poo-pooing my pantieth," I mumbled mindlessly around my dummy teat in reply, barely realising what I was saying. I was unthinkingly parroting the responses my cousin Bonnie and her friend Tammy had drilled into my head. "I'm a hewpweth widdle baby girl."

She giggled quietly in derision at my childishly-lisped, self-admitted lack of maturity. Connie had already closed the curtains in the Nursery, and the dim light was soothing to my tired eyes. I found it hard to raise my heavy arms when she kindly removed my short red frock. She carefully lay it on the change table beside Angie's smaller matching polka-dot dress. Connie decided to leave my pretty red satin panties in place, but I was too tired to care. I yawned continuously as I showed her the drawer where my onesies were kept, and she dressed me in the white cotton one with the picture of Barbie on the front. 'I love Barbie - she's so beautiful! I wish I was Barbie, sometimes,' I thought sleepily, wondering why I couldn't stop yawning.

"I used to love Barbie, too," she whispered with a indulgent smile for me, making me wonder if I had unintentionally voiced my thoughts. "I still have a couple of my old Barbies at the bottom of my bedroom cupboard, somewhere… Holy mackerel!" Connie exclaimed softly, as she gamely struggled to stretch the white onesie flaps down over my bulky nappies, trying to force the crotch pieces together. "These are like, the biggest, thickest nappies I've ever seen!" She grunted in relief as she finally fastened the four chromed snap-clips over the red satin panties stretched tautly between my helplessly bowed thighs. I gratefully turned towards my waiting open cot and clumsily waddled closer. I was so tired, I was almost out on my feet. It was difficult climbing up into my high crib even with Connie's help, but we managed at last.

Angie was already fast asleep in her bed, her favourite brown teddy clasped under one unmoving arm. My grinning babysitter raised the high barred side railing till it noisily locked into place above her head, and she shook her brunette bob in amazed disbelief. "Wow! You wear nappies and baby clothes, eat your meals from a highchair, and sleep in a crib... You wear bibs and suck a dummy, and even drink from baby bottles… You sure are one strange little girl, Baby Jennie - even for a six-year-old!" Connie fell silent as David bounded into the room. He handed her the sloshing pink baby bottle full of cold water with his usual sneer when she bossily commanded him to be quiet. "Shh, you! You'll wake Angie," she grumpily ordered in a loud whisper. He frowned in annoyance as he stood beside her.

"Aw, come on, Connie! She's out cold already. Relax," David urged his small brunette friend in a mock stage whisper. I sleepily watched as he possessively grabbed one of her perky round breasts and gave it a hard squeeze. Connie impatiently smacked his rude paw away from her bosom, and she winced in embarrassment when she noticed my bemused expression.
"Don't, David! Not in front of the baby," she primly insisted, with a pointed nod in my direction. When I saw the childish pout of disappointment marring his handsome features, I gave her a tired smile in spite of her calling me a baby. "Here, baby girl," Connie tenderly cooed to me, carefully threading my upright pink baby bottle through the bars to hand it to me. I spat out my dum-dums in readiness, reaching for the heavy full bottle with both hands.

"Aww Connie! C'mon! Let's get out of this bloody Nursery so we can get down to business," David insisted in a frustrated whine. I gratefully accepted the bottle of water from her and shoved the spurting nipple between my suddenly dry lips, wondering why I felt slightly dizzy. David stepped behind Connie and squatted until their hips were almost level, and then he grabbed her around the waist. "C'mon, Connie!" She was hanging onto the pink bars with one hand and leaning over to gently stroke my head, unintentionally sticking out her plump, denim-clad backside for his puerile attention. I saw her frown severely when he started suggestively thrusting his pelvis against her big round bottom.

Connie abruptly leaned back and viciously drove her left elbow into David's ribs, making him grunt in pain. She twisted in his grasp and swiftly twirled around. He fell back in alarm, clutching his left side and groaning. The bottle nipple slipped from my gaping mouth, and I tipped it upright before it spilled any water on my pink pussycat sheets. Connie's big brown eyes were blazing when she snarled in quiet fury, "Get away from me, you idiot! I told you didn't want you to do that to me any more!"
"But- but that's why I asked you to come over! I mean, don't you wanna…?" He had his other hand cupped suggestively over his groin in crude invitation, sliding his fingers slowly up and down with obvious intent. I could see the beginnings of a thick erection swelling sideways towards his right hip. He proudly toyed with it as it grew, squeezing and fondling the huge head with his fingers, trying in vain to ignore the pain from his bruised ribs.

"No, I don't wanna," Connie huffily replied, with a withering scowl for his inarticulate adolescent advances. I lay on my side and giggled at the sulky look on David's face, and the way his plump bottom lip stuck out like a frustrated toddler. Now he looked like a sooky baby - not me. He glared in rage at me through the pink-painted bars, and then controlled himself when he turned to gaze imploringly at the angry brunette.
"Maybe you could just suck it a little?" David entreated. "C'mon, Connie…" he hopefully pleaded. Her only response was to reach up and loudly smack the taller lad on the chest with her open palm, forcing him to step back with a stunned confused expression clouding his handsome boyish features.
"I don't think so!" She snapped testily, "I'm sick of that, and I'm sick of you!" She strode towards the door to the landing with her pug nose in the air. "You're such a stupid liar, David!" Connie snarled in contempt before she marched out.

David trotted outside to the landing, scurrying after her like a beaten puppy. I could hear him begging and her yelling while they walked downstairs. I heard him raise his voice in anger and shout, "Come back upstairs and look for yourself, if you don't believe me!" It was hard paying attention when the whole world felt soft and blurry. I distractedly sucked on my bottle of cool water as I tried to catch her shrilly yelled reply. I let my free hand slide over the crotch of my stretchy onesie. I pressed the stretchy front flap to one side, caressing the silky crotch of my pretty satin panties underneath and loving the feeling of warm cushiony wetness beneath. A few minutes later I heard Connie scream something rude and anatomically impossible at David in her loud piercing voice. Then the front door slammed with enough violence to almost shake the foundations. I chortled as I imagined the brawny teenager's frustration and disappointment. I pushed my bottle aside, stuck my dummy teat in my mouth, and sucked on it contentedly as everything faded to black.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Bonnie was lying half-naked on her back and I was resting on top of her, on my tummy. Her voluptuous body felt warm and comfortable under mine, and I detected the delightful cushiony softness of a lovely wet nappy wrapped thrillingly around my excited stiff clittie. I sleepily raised my head to look around and realised we were lying on my buxom cousin's bed. The rest of the room looked fuzzy and slightly out-of-focus. I sucked harder on my dum-dums when I noticed Bonnie had draped her bed in a smooth shiny sheet of transparent pink plastic. It was as though a little girl's mattress protector covered her huge queen-size bed, and it crackled distantly as I wriggled about on my cousin's lush brown body. It felt like everything was wrapped in cotton wool, and even sounds seemed strangely soft and muffled. I breathed in deeply, inhaling the familiar comforting scents of lightly-perfumed baby powder and sweet fresh urine.

Something felt disturbingly different down below. I struggled to focus on what was out of place. Although my clittie was wrapped in delicious warm wetness as usual, my botty felt strangely cool and exposed. I glanced back over my shoulder and saw with shock that I wasn't wearing a nappy! I was lying buck-naked atop Bonnie's broad brown tummy, bare-bottomed like a new-born babe with its mother. But how come I felt so deliciously warm and wet around my sensitive stiff clittie? I raised my torso with effort and twisted my head to look down between us, and realised with a surging thrill of arousal that Bonnie was wearing the hot wet nappies - not me! And she wasn't wearing any plastic panties! My naughty teenage cousin had drenched her thick pink cloth nappy while lying on her plastic-covered bed, and my throbbing clittie was pressed into a soggy groove formed by the bunched wet terrycloth between her plump parted thighs. There was a shallow puddle of aromatic amber urine all the way around her big diapered bum. It sloshed delightfully against the plastic mattress cover whenever she shifted her weight on the bed. I experimentally thrust my pulsating tool into the humid folds of her moist nappy, loving the fabulous thrilling sensations that made me shiver and moan with excitement.

"Come here and suck Mama's titty, Baby Jennie," I heard Bonnie throatily command from over my head. When I tilted my face up to peer up over her long torso, she was smiling down at me and holding up one of those mammoth, basketball-sized breasts for my adulation. Her make-up was flawless as always, her huge golden eyes glowing with desire, and her puffy lips glistened wetly with rich, glossy pink lipstick. "Here you are, baby girl," Bonnie tenderly crooned, and when I reached for the swollen teat with my infant-sized hands, the thumb-sized russet nipple seemed to swell and elongate towards my searching grasp. "Suck hard for Mama, baby." My dum-dums had magically disappeared without my noticing, and as soon as I latched on to the swollen hard nipple, I began urgently sucking. But this time Mama's soft brown titty was bone-dry, even when I chewed hungrily on the firm rubbery teat. I grumbled wordlessly in frustration and sucked harder and louder on the mouth-filling nipple, desperate to extract some warm sweet milk from those delightful fleshy containers. I heard muffled footsteps beside me, and suddenly knew there was someone else in the room.

Tammy stepped into sight at the side of Bonnie's bed, and the gorgeous petite blonde had never looked so stunning. Her short, honey-blonde hair was bound in two juvenile pigtails high on either side of her head with dangly pastel-pink satin ribbons, and she batted her impossibly-long black lashes coquettishly. Her perfect, pouting, dark-pink lips were unadorned by any trace of lipstick, and glistened moistly when she ran the wet tip of her tiny pale-pink tongue across them. Her dark shadowed eyelids drooped to shade her big brown eyes in that sexy sleepy manner, and her cheeks were flushed with sexual arousal. She was wearing a snug white, button-front blouse that was completely sheer, and the shirt-tails were knotted tightly around her tiny waist above the delicate cleft of her belly button.

Although her blouse was demurely buttoned to her slender throat, beneath the gauzy white top I could clearly see Tammy's slender bust and her hard pink, pencil-eraser nipples, the erect little buds straining for my attention against the diaphanous material. Below a smooth expanse of flat brown tummy and a pretty navel free of ornamentation, she wore the briefest schoolgirl skirt you could imagine. The tiny skirt was wide-flared with multiple pleats, in a darling pastel-pink, white, and dove-grey tartan. It was so short, I could clearly see Tammy was wearing a thick pink cloth nappy pinned underneath, but with no plastic panties to cover them, either.

"Mama, I have to do a wee-wee," the gorgeous blonde seventeen-year-old proudly announced, before climbing up on the high crackling, plastic-covered bed, to stand next to Bonnie's head. Tammy was wearing sheer white frilly anklet socks with two elaborate rows of wide baby-pink lace frills below the fold, and baby-pink court shoes that perfectly matched the ribbons in her hair and the pink tartan of her miniskirt. Neither girl seemed to worry that her five-inch, pencil-thin stiletto heels might puncture the thin plastic mattress protector, potentially causing quite a pungent mess on Bonnie's bed.

"Good girl, Tammy! Come here to Mama," Bonnie lovingly crooned from her supine postion, reaching up for the wobbling girl's puffy hips. She directed the submissive teen to stand with her heels either side of Bonnie's head, and then my cousin urged the gorgeous blonde to squat, and then kneel over her eagerly-upturned face. I sucked harder on Mama's empty dug in a furious effort to draw out some milk, while I watched the playful teenagers in rapt fascination. Bonnie reached across and deftly adjusted the smaller girl's little legs, positioning Tammy so that her bare knees rested wide apart on the crinkling plastic sheet either side of my cousin's head, till the bulky crotch of the gorgeous blonde's nappy was poised a bare inch above her smiling painted face.

When Tammy's smooth sculpted thighs splayed wide, her tightly-pinned nappy drew up snugly against her crotch, cupping her proud pudenda in thick absorbent terrycloth. Bonnie's beautifully made-up face creased in a delighted smile as she gently coaxed the straining girl to go potty in her nappies. "Go on, little Tammy. Show Mama how you do wee-wees in your nappy. Go on, baby girl. Do lovely long wetties in your nap-naps for Mama."
"Oh Mama!" Tammy cried in excitement, as she bit her plump bottom lip and screwed up her gorgeous face in concentration. I loved it when Tammy made her potty-face! "I'm doing it, Mama! I'm doing a wee-wee in my nappy!"

I chewed harder on the nipple filling my mouth, trying not to lose it in my excitement. I watched in awe as a dark wet spot appeared in the middle of the puffy pink crotch of Tammy's thick fluffy nappy. Grunting and trembling with arousal, I urgently thrust my pulsating stiff clittie into the soggy folds of Bonnie's drenched diaper, which enveloped my throbbing hard tool in wonderful wet warmth. The tiny dark patch on Tammy's pink nappy slowly grew larger and larger, and then her sweet urine began to bubble through the multiple thick layers. She peed so much, she had overflowed her absorbent nappy! Her wee-wees began irresistibly seeping out, and I watched in amazement as the amber flow began to trickle into Bonnie's waiting open mouth. The buxom beauty's eyes were closed and her puffy painted lips were drawn back, her mouth agape, and she was grunting with excitement as she greedily accepted her beautiful blonde girlfriend's sweet golden wine.

I knew I must be dreaming when I heard Bonnie wetly gurgle, "Good girl! That's my good little girl, Baby Tammy. Keep going, baby. Don't stop! Mmm! Oh yes! Show Mama how you do a lovely long wee-wees in your nap-nap. Oh yes! Good girl!" I knew it was impossible to swallow mouthful after mouthful of steaming urine and keep talking, the way Bonnie was doing - but I was so caught up in my erotic fantasy, I didn't care! Tammy grinned down lasciviously at me while she teased her own erect nipples through her sheer blouse, pinching and squeezing the ripe buds till they were poking out like stiff little fingers. But then the peeing blonde reached down and grabbed Bonnie's breast, selfishly trying to pull the wet nipple from my lips.

"Aww! Look at the little sucky-baby. What a sweet little sucker." It was weird! Tammy sounded like David! Even though I bit harder on the teat in my mouth, I couldn't stop her ripping it free. I grunted in displeasure when I was rudely awakened by having my soothing dum-dums yanked from between my pursed wet lips. I twisted onto my side and glanced up through the pink bars, pouting in sleepy confusion. Everything seemed hazy and fuzzy in the dim light, and despite the shining thread of drool trailing from my lips to my dummy teat, my mouth felt soft and cottony.

David was standing beside my cot with a nasty grin on his handsome face, dangling my saliva-drenched dummy by the pink plastic chain in front of my glazed blue eyes. "Come here, sucky-baby," he cooed in a coarse throaty whisper, as though pretending to entice a shy toddler. "Come to daddy." It sounded like he was talking to me from the other end of a long tunnel. "Come get your dummy, little girl. Come to daddy, you pretty sissy baby." His gruff inviting voice sounded even deeper than usual, and I obediently rolled onto my front again and slithered towards him on my belly.

Apart from the muffled crinkling of my protective plastic mattress cover underneath the fitted sheet, and the muted rustling of my rubber panties when I wriggled closer to the bars, the house was eerily quiet. When I glanced towards Angie's bed, I could see the inert form of my heavily sleeping sister. The arm limply draped over her old brown teddy hadn't moved, either. David slowly drew his calloused fingers back, teasing me by holding my drool-coated dum-dums just outside the hardwood bars. I knew I was already hard and excited inside my comforting wet nappy, and as I wriggled closer to the side rail, I discretely thrust my stiff clittie into the delicious soggy folds that surrounded me with thrilling warmth.

When I dazedly reached for the glistening pacifier with my fingers, the brawny youth moved it away again. He quietly cautioned me in a deep throaty whisper; "No, no! My sucky-baby has to let daddy put it in her mouth. Put your face up against the bars, and open those pretty pink lips wide - and no handy-pandies, Baby Jennie!" I shrugged dopily in resignation and pressed my face between the hardwood bars, opening my mouth wide in expectation. I didn't expect him to reach through the pink-painted bars either side of my head. The smirking hulk tossed aside my dum-dums and swiftly grabbed hold of my pigtails, one in each meaty fist. He painfully tightened his grip until I squealed in alarm. He snarled in a hushed voice; "Shut up! Shut up, you little sissy faggot! You told Connie I was lying, and you made me look like a fool in front of her. You told her you were a little girl! You want to be a girl so bad? You act like a girl, and you look like a girl - so I'll treat you like a girl! Open those pretty pink lips wide for daddy…"

I gasped as he thrust his crotch against my face, and I suddenly realised his erect penis was poking out the front of his black shorts. It was huge and red and swollen, and in the subdued light, the enormous shiny head looked almost purple. I noticed David was circumcised, the same as me - not that it made any difference at that moment. It's amazing; the insignificant details that you notice in times of extreme stress. "Open up, baby," he sternly commanded, struggling to keep his voice low. "Open that wet little mouth wide…" I could smell a hint of stale urine on his musky straining tool, and funnily enough, I found his rangy man-scent strangely exciting.

Even though I was reluctant to obey him, I knew I had no choice in the matter. He weighed more than twice what I did, and he was a hulking ball of pure, rock-hard muscle - compared with my soft, effeminate little body. Resistance was futile, and I was terrified of getting hurt. I hesitantly opened my mouth and let David force the fat head of his rigid cock inside me, amazed at the slick feel of his silky-smooth member on my puffy pursed lips. It was hot as a poker on my tongue and just as stiff, and he gave a barely-restrained groan of pleasure when I automatically locked my lips below the pulsating crown. I started sucking on it, just like it was my dum-dums - only much fatter.

"Oh yeah! Suck it, baby! Suck daddy's cock like a good little sucky-baby," he ordered in a hoarse whisper, and then he moaned helplessly in delight as I instinctively pressed on the underside with my tongue. I forced the head of his swollen tool against the roof of my mouth, like it was one of Bonnie's huge nipples from my dreams, trying to milk out the contents as I sucked for dear life. "Oh God! Ohh yeah, suck it! Mmm, that's right. Ohh, you suck it like you love it, baby! Mmm. Oh yeah, you love it, alright! All girls love to suck cock; so you must be a girl, after all! Oh!" He gasped in amazement, and then ordered in a raspy croak, "Use your tongue again, you little slut! Go on! Keep sucking like that, but run your tongue around the underside of the head…. Oh yeah! Ohhh! Yeah, like that, you dirty little bitch!"

I slavishly obeyed his every quietly grunted order, worshipping his huge erection with my lips and tongue. I teased that sensitive spot under the head again and again, until his hairy legs began to shudder and writhe uncontrollably. "Oh, good girl! Suck it for daddy, baby," he mumbled in the heat of passion. "Oh yeah! Good girl, that's right. Lick daddy's cock like a good little girl." Every time David called me a girl, I seemed to submit more deeply, and the feeling of being totally dominated by this huge muscular youth made my hard swollen clittie expand to thrilling new proportions inside my lovely warm wet nappy. He began to pant with excitement, and he struggled to keep his harsh commands at a croaky whisper. "Yeah, baby! Rub that spot up and down with your tongue some more. Faster, girlie! Oh yeah, like that! Good girl! Keep sucking, baby! Oh God! Yeah, that's it. Yeah, you love it! Don't you, girlie? Oh yeah, you fuckin' love it!" When he started to thrust his hot hard cock deeper into my mouth, I began to truly appreciate how big it was. His rampant penis must have been twice as long as my stiff little clittie, and more than three times as thick.

I clutched the pink painted bars either side of my head and hung on for dear life, preventing him from ramming me backwards with every urgent thrust of his hips, trying desperately to stop him from tearing out my pigtails by the roots. His swollen manhood already filled my small mouth, and I could see there was several more rigid inches sticking out of his white Y-fronts - which I knew he urgently wanted to cram inside my maw. His groin had a sweet musky odour I found oddly exciting; a combination of sweaty balls and stale urine that was both weirdly familiar and strangely compelling. I timidly rocked backwards and forwards on the bulging front of my wonderfully warm wet nappy, and the fantastic feelings coming from my swollen clittie were mind-blowing! I experienced a confusing rush of emotions. Despite my arousal, I felt helpless and victimised. I was being used and abused - and yet I felt overwhelmingly submissive and… feminine, as he made me perform for him like a real girl.

"Jesus! What a hot sweet mouth," he groaned in appreciation, and the painful grip on my pigtails relaxed slightly. I sucked harder in grateful response and rapidly flicked my tongue against his sensitive spot, until his whole body began to tremble. His baggy black shorts slid unnoticed down his hairy thighs to his knees, and I could clearly see his rampant cock was sticking out through the hole in his white Calvin Klein underwear. "Holy shit! You're really good at this," he grunted in pleased surprise, his low voice thick with passion. David released one pigtail and began to stroke my blonde locks, affectionately patting my head like I was some kind of obedient, well-trained puppy. "Good girl! Try and take it all for daddy like a good little girl." Somewhere deep inside, I felt a tiny thrill of pleasure at his rumbled words of praise, and I tried even harder to swallow the rigid straining length of him. "Oh! Ohhh! Oh yeah! What a good little cock-sucker! Ohh baby! Oh yeah! You're even better than Connie… You must really want to be a girl, deep down inside." I released the pink wooden bar with my right hand and wrapped my tiny fist around his rock-hard red shaft. I could barely touch my longest pink fingernail and my painted thumbnail together, he was so thick around! I mean, I know I have small dainty hands - but he was enormous!

As David rapidly pumped his huge, saliva-drenched cock in and out of my suctioning mouth, I compressed my lips into a firm round 'O,' and my clenched fist automatically began to slide up and down the slippery solid length of him. When I pressed my tightly-pursed, puffy pink lips over the slick head and squeezed the throbbing shaft harder with my little fingers as I sucked, my mouth was suddenly filled with unexpected sweetness. The proud purple crown I reverently kissed was as soft as my mother's lips, and the contrast between the spongy hot head and his steel-hard shaft was amazing! I clamped my tiny fist tighter around him and rubbed faster, as I greedily tried to swallow as much of his sweet juice as I could. "Oh yeah, baby! Like that, Jennie! Rub me like that while you keep sucking my cock. Oh yeah, baby… Oh God! Keep sucking hard like that. Suck daddy's cock, you dirty little bitch! Suck it, baby! Lick it! Suck it- Ohhh!" He grabbed my other pigtail again, almost yanking my hair out by the roots in his excitement.

I squeezed his hard shaft tighter with my tiny fist to stop him trying to shove his monster tool all the way down my throat, and I felt the length of him pulsate thrillingly on my tongue. My big padded bum bucked rapidly up and down as I thrust my stiff clittie into the humid folds of my deliciously-drenched diaper, desperately hoping David wouldn't notice how much it excited me; being treated like a helpless girl by this cruel handsome youth. He was so dominant, and I felt so submissive - and so feminine - as he made me service him like a dirty little slut. I slavishly sucked on his wildly jerking tool, and rhythmically squeezed his throbbing shaft in a way I innately knew would bring him more pleasure. "Oh Jennie! God, Jennie!" Why did it thrill me so, to hear him desperately cry my feminine name like that? Unexpectedly stuff began shooting out of the tip of his pounding cock, and it rapidly filled my suctioning mouth. It was like when my excitable little clittie exploded this morning, while Mummy lovingly fondled me with her warm silky panties. I didn't like the strange salty taste suddenly spurting onto my tongue, but when I tried to pull my face away, David's strong grip on both my pigtails abruptly and painfully tightened.

"Oh no, baby! Ungh! You take it for daddy!" He ordered in a grunting animal voice, ignoring my muffled whimpers of pain and distress. "Take it, Baby Jennie! Ahhh! Ungh! You don't have a choice, little girl. You take it all for daddy! Argghh! Swallow it, baby! Swallow down daddy's cum like a good girl should! Oh yeah! Ohhh! That's it, girlie. You eat it all up for daddy, like a good little girl," David commanded between rasping gasps for air. With no choice, I let him pump jet after jet of creamy discharge down my throat. I kept swallowing his baby juice, too frightened to disobey him, and I was thankful when it appeared he had finally finished cumming.

"Now when it comes out of your mouth, baby," he panted breathlessly, "daddy wants you to keep holding it with your little hands, and kiss the head like it was your best girlfriend. Then lick daddy's shaft clean from my ball sack to the tip, like a good little girl should - like you were licking your favourite ice-cream cone. Make sure you eat up every sweet drop of daddy's precious cream, baby. It will help you to grow lovely big titties, like a big girl. Got it, Baby Jennie?" I meekly nodded, and as I let the shrinking head pop free of my suctioning pouting lips, I fervently kissed the tip, wondering if he was telling the truth. I would love to grow beautiful big titties like Bonnie or Justine - or even perky little bosoms, like Tammy! When I slavishly tongued his slowly shrinking shaft from bottom to top, another pearly drop appeared in the tiny open eye. I greedily licked that up too, and he moaned uncontrollably at the heightened sensitivity of his exhausted organ as he thankfully released my pigtails.

I continued to hold and softly kiss his gradually shrivelling member, and he crooned in a bass rumble, "Good girl! Mmm! What a good little girl you are for daddy." David finally pulled his cock free of my gentle grasp, and he still sounded short of breath as he backed away from the side of my crib. He gathered his fallen shorts from around his knees and pulled them up over his narrow hips. I watched as though through a hazy mist while he tucked his shrinking manhood inside his sweaty tighty-whities, before zipping closed his baggy black shorts over them and snapping the clasp. There was a thin sheen of perspiration covering his handsome smiling face, and a contented, glazed look in his hard blue eyes I would come to know only too well.

He stepped closer to the crib bars and gazed down at me over the high side rail. "Now we won't tell Mummy about this, will we, Baby Jennie?" David softly insisted, frowning down in warning at me. "We'll keep this one just to ourselves - between daddy and Baby Jennie. Won't we, baby?" His low rumbling voice took on a hint of menace when he asked the questions. I nodded fearfully, the taste of him still fresh on my pouting pink lips. "This will be our little secret, okay? Say 'yes daddy'," he sternly commanded.
"Yeth daddy," I whispered obediently. I swear the room grew brighter when he smiled, and I ducked my head, too ashamed to meet his domineering blue-eyed gaze. I nervously licked my lips and tasted his cum again, and I saw his smile turn contemptuous when I shyly glanced his way.
"Good girl," he muttered, looking and sounding pleased by my ready acquiescence. "It will just be our little secret."

I rolled onto my back and grabbed my half-full bottle of water, shoving the dripping teat to my cum-stained lips to wash away the strange salty flavour of his ejaculate. I couldn't help pressing my other hand over the slippery satin front of my panties, rubbing my fingers up and down in a frustrated effort to stimulate my throbbing clittie through my thick wet nappy. David grinned in malicious amusement at my tell-tale masturbatory actions, and snorted in contempt. He reached between the bars and slapped my naughty hand aside, and unsnapped the crotch of my onesie with such force, I thought the stretchy cotton material would tear for sure! He clamped his huge cupped palm over the front of my silky red panties and pressed down firmly. He grabbed my swollen clittie right through the many wet layers and squeezed viciously hard, until I moaned in pleasure/pain at his ruthless grip.

David gave an amused snort and muttered self-righteously; "I knew it! I knew it would turn you on to be treated like a girl! Oh baby! You loved it," he insisted, although it sounded more like an accusation than a compliment. "You loved sucking my cock, you dirty little cock-sucking faggot!" I cringed under his harsh condemning words and his cold disgusted tone, even as my pounding clittie thrilled to his strong manly grip inside my wonderfully warm wet nappy. "Jesus! This nappy feels soaked already, you dirty little bitch." He snatched his huge hand away and then needlessly wiped his dry palm clean on the front of my onesie, as though to avoid possible contamination. I couldn't understand how he could sound so pleased with me one moment, and then absolutely revolted by me the very next second.

He stepped back so I could clearly see the familiar disdainful sneer had returned to its normal position on his otherwise-handsome face. His clenched fists rested on his slender hips and he looked away from me in disgust, his bright blue eyes glowering sadistically. "You queer little cock-lover! I always knew were a sissy poofter. Wait till the guys hear about this," he snickered nastily. "You're just a sissy little girl deep down - a sissy who loves to suck cock! I bet all the guys will wanna try you out!" I was so frightened by his idle threat, I actually gasped in fear and inhaled a few drops of water. I thrust my bottle aside and coughed violently to clear the fluid from my trachea. Had I known about the brief refractory period of the horny teenage male, I would have been even more alarmed.

I didn't see David swagger triumphantly out of the Nursery, but I heard his heavy tread bounding down the stairs, and his deep, self-satisfied rumble of laughter. I guiltily glanced over to Angie's bed through the pink-painted bars. Thankfully my sedated sister was still fast asleep, and I assumed the medicine must have knocked her out-cold. 'It's true,' I thought hazily, cringing in my crib in abject mortification. Every accusation David made had rung true with me. I had been incredibly aroused by being treated like a helpless girl, except now I felt ashamed of those submissive, feminine feelings. I felt so confused, and yet my uncontrollable clittie was so hard and excited inside my comforting wet nappies!

My discarded dummy lay on the pink pussycat sheets between my splayed legs, and I grabbed it and thrust the amber rubber teat into my mouth as soon as I stopped coughing. I sucked on my soothing pacifier in misery, terrified by the thought that soon, everyone would know how much sucking a boy's cock excited me down there. But frightened as I was, nothing could stop my heavy eyelids from slowly drooping closed. I collapsed onto my tummy and softly rocked on my thick wet nappy, comforted by the thrilling sensations coming from my excitable stiff clittie. Minutes later, I was fast asleep again.

To be continued in chapter 18.

Synopsis; David takes advantage of Baby Jennie's helplessness and rapes her in the Nursery. Afterwards Connie presses Baby Jennie to tell her mother the truth.

Chapter 18. Making a Real Girl out of Baby Jennie.

This time my dreams were a swirling maelstrom of soft pastel colours and muffled muted sounds, before my besotted mind returned to the familiar comforting images of Bonnie and Tammy. We were in my bossy cousin's bedroom again and I was kneeling in the corner, the writhing figures on the pink-covered bed the objects of my fascinated blue eyes. Bonnie was on her bed facing away from me, kneeling between Tammy's spread legs. I could see my cousin's thick pink nappy was saturated and sagging wetly against the crotch of her transparent baggy pink baby panties.

I was certain I must be dreaming this time, because when my buxom kneeling cousin raised her perfectly-painted face from between the gorgeous blonde's wide-splayed legs, there was a hard little penis sticking up in the air from the juncture of Tammy's sculpted inner thighs. The swollen head was only slightly fatter than the slender red shaft – which looked about as thick as my thumb - but it was much darker, and it glistened wetly in the dim light. To my confused little mind, the shiny red shaft seemed to grow upwards from between Tammy's parted pink nether lips, surrounded by a tiny triangle of light blonde curls.

Bonnie turned around to grin nastily down at me and snicker in David's cruel deep voice, "I told you girls liked sucking cock. See?" She grabbed the slick wet tool pulsating above Tammy's flat brown tummy in her large fist. Opening her pink bee-stung lips wide, my cousin engulfed the rampant organ to the hilt. Growling like a hungry cat, she pressed her powdered nose into those soft blonde curls, trying to swallow her gorgeous girlfriend's raging erection whole. Tammy moaned in glorious rapture when Bonnie's head began rapidly bobbing up and down. I could hear the wet slobbering noises of her suctioning lips on Tammy's rock-hard tool.

I grunted and groaned in frustration around the sloppy wet teat of my dummy from my spot in the corner. I rubbed the warm puffy front of my thick wet nappy through my plastic panties, unsure whether I wanted to take Bonnie's place on the bed - or Tammy's? I knew I wanted to be a beautiful girl like them - but which girl would I prefer to be?

The clattering cot side woke me when it was clumsily lowered, and I turned towards the disappearing pink wooden bars in hazy confusion. "Mummy?" I mumbled sleepily from around my dum-dums, as I was effortlessly lifted from my crib and placed on my back on the change table. "Mumma!"
"Shh, baby. Be quiet, little girl." That deep soothing voice belonged to David! I jerked in alarm, trying to clear the codeine fog from my brain, my sleepy eyes fluttering open with difficulty. "I just need to change your wet nappy, Baby Jennie. Your Mummy will be home soon. I don't imagine she'll be very impressed with me as a babysitter if I let you wet through to your crib sheets," he whispered convincingly.

Despite his calm rumbled reassurances, I felt sure something was wrong when David grinned down lasciviously at my crotch. He pushed the front piece of my Barbie onesie up over my tummy to reveal my bulging red satin panties. I wondered fearfully, 'What is he up to? How long until Mummy comes home?' As he tucked my white onesie well up out of the way under my armpits, I hazily searched the walls of the Nursery, looking for a clock I already knew wasn't there. Mummy always said; 'Babies don't need clocks, silly! They can't tell the time.' Then the drug-addled memories started to return in strange disturbing flashes, like technicolor visions from a lurid nightmare.

David had overpowered me and forced me to… He had treated me like a girl, and made me suck his thick hard cock! Or was it all just a strange erotic dream? I felt so dazed and confused. I didn't know what to think. When the lumbering lad slowly pulled down my frilly red panties and then my rustling white rubber baby pants, I felt sure this was no dream. "Holy mackerel!" he muttered in scornful dismay, when he caught sight of my saturated nappy. "You really are wet through! Your Mum only changed you - what? About an hour and a half ago? What a hopeless big baby you really are!"

He unpinned my drenched diapers and carelessly tossed the pins on the shelf above, then delicately lowered the soggy warm front with the tips of his thumb and forefinger. My cheeks blazed with humiliation when my semi-hard clittie was exposed to his contemptuous gaze. "You stink of piss," David complained in disgust, making my embarrassed blushes intensify - but my thickening stiffie paradoxically harden. He snorted disdainfully at my tumescent excitement, and he grabbed a handful of moist baby wipes and began roughly scrubbing my tummy and between my splayed thighs. The hulking brute smirked nastily down at me when he wrapped his huge, wipe-covered hand all the way around my stiff little clittie. He briskly rubbed his moist, wipe-clad fist up and down to carelessly clean my rock-hard tool - which only made it grow thrillingly harder!

David released me with a snort of disgust and tossed the used wipes in the bin, and he pulled the soggy nappies from underneath me. He grimaced in revulsion when the saturated soaker pad slipped out and flopped wetly to the floor. He threw my drenched cloth nappies in the nappy bucket and quickly slammed closed the lid, and then tossed the sodden pink disposable in the bin without folding it or taping it closed first, or bothering with a scented nappy sack. "Roll over so I can wipe your bum, girlie," he ordered shortly, but I detected a note of nervous tension in his low gruff voice.

I willingly obeyed him and turned onto my stomach, grateful to conceal my stiff bobbing clittie from his contemptuous gaze. The pee-damp pink plastic table cover under my tummy made my hard little tool slip and slide about erotically, making me even more aroused. "Lord! Look at those bruises on your butt," David commented in muted surprise, as he gazed down at my shivering bare bot-bot. "Even my Dad never beats me that bad!" I thought he was being sympathetic and I felt a warm glow inside, before he snapped me back to reality with his next chilling warning. "If you don't behave yourself for daddy like a good little girl, you won't be able to sit down for a week after I've finished with you!" I trembled in fear as David gave me a crisp smack across both cheeks in clear warning, before perfunctorily scrubbing my upturned botty cheeks clean. He brusquely wiped my crack a couple of times, before tossing the used wipes in the bin.

He reached for the plastic tub of Vaseline sitting on the shelf above, and snapped off the cap. "Now stay like that on your tummy for a moment, little girl," he softly ordered, and his husky voice seemed to drop an octave. I felt him gently parting my bruised botty cheeks with his thick calloused fingers and I whimpered uncertainly. He snapped in a menacing hushed voice; "Keep quiet, you little sissy! I'm just putting some Vaseline on your… What did your Mummy call it, baby girl? Your little rosebud?"

The musclebound youth snickered in malicious amusement before snidely informing me, "This is so you don't get nappy rash on your sensitive little rosebud, Baby Jennie." I sucked harder on my dum-dums and cringed in embarrassment, realising David must have been eavesdropping on us when Mummy changed my poopy nappy earlier. Instead I tried to focus on the arousing sensations coming from my rear end when he prodded and probed my wrinkled little hole with the soft greasy gel.

He was unexpectedly gentle as he smoothed the thick lubricant around my freshly-cleaned wrinkled sphincter. He circled my sensitive opening a few thrilling times and pressed the tip of his index finger inside me. I felt ashamed of my helpless feminine reaction when my naughty boy-pussy instinctively opened up for him, as though it was Mummy's wipe-wrapped finger cleaning my delicate rosebud. I think I must have unwittingly sighed in pleasure, because I heard him snigger in that arrogant superior manner; "I knew you'd like this, you dirty little slut!"

I was glad I was lying face-down on my change table, so he couldn't see the guilty flush colouring my cheeks. I couldn't help it! I did like it - very much! His thick fat finger started probing further inside my sensitive little hole, opening me wider, and I shuddered and couldn’t help thrusting my easily-aroused clittie into the slippery wet, vinyl-covered table underneath me. I moaned in pleasure, which only seemed to provoke him.

My excited wriggling movements must have made it seem like I was deliberately lifting my naughty botty so his teasing finger would penetrate me more deeply, and he snickered in contempt as he fulfilled my unspoken wishes. "I knew you would like being fingered. All girls like it when you finger with their pussies," he confidently informed me, with all the worldly experience of a horny fifteen-year-old. "And you're just a sissy little girl, aren't you?" Despite trying to restrain myself, I moaned uncontrollably in response as his greasy finger opened me wider, stretching my little hole in every direction, before plunging deeper inside me. "Oh yeah, baby! You're a sissy girl, alright! Open up! Open right up for daddy, little girl," he crooned, like he was coaxing his own precious daughter to eat her din-dins. "Open wide! Daddy wants to make a real girl out of you, Baby Jennie."

In my drugged state, those were the only words he said that mattered to me. I wanted to be a real girl so badly, and if this strong handsome youth was willing to help me achieve that aim - I was willing to do almost anything! I trembled helplessly in excitement as he relentlessly buried his longest lubricated finger all the way inside me, right up to the last knuckle, till I moaned around my dum-dums at the thrilling invasion. His hands were even larger than Bonnie's, and his fingers felt twice as long and twice as thick. He eased his fat finger out a couple of inches, before slowly sliding the tip back in again, then twisting and wriggling it all around. He wanted to make sure my empty back passage was well coated in greasy lubricant, but I foolishly didn't understand David's true intent.

My limited knowledge of sex mostly came from simple line drawings and dirty limericks scrawled on the backs of the toilet doors at school. I shivered and moaned at his stimulating caresses, not realising that my greedy boy-pussy was already dilating in readiness for him. I moaned in disappointment when he plucked out his wonderful wiggling digit. He chortled in wicked amusement when I glanced over my shoulder at him with a reproachful pout.

"Alright, roll over, little girl," David urged me in his soft rasping voice from the foot of the change table. "On your back, baby. That’s right, Good girl.” He chuckled at how eagerly I obeyed him. It was a low wicked sound. I didn't understand the foreplay was over - not that I'd ever heard of foreplay. He tried to control his amusement when he leaned over me and grabbed the stiff clittie bobbing above my tummy, holding me firmly in his warm manly grasp.

"What's this, Baby Jennie?" David mockingly demanded, clutching my throbbing little tool and squeezing it tight in his greasy fist, till I gasped in pleasure/pain. My knees drew up automatically and the soles of my bare feet pressed together, my thighs flopping wide as I naturally assumed the normal, highly-exposed position to have my nappy changed. A tiny drop of clear fluid filled the eye of my pulsating clittie when my tormentor tightly gripped me, before dripping like thick honey onto my trembling tummy.

I shuddered in humiliation as I confessed in my frightened little-girl voice, "It'th my cwittie! My cwittie!" His loud snort of cruel masculine laughter was completely expected, but how could I call my tiny thing a penis? Especially when compared with David's huge piece of erect man-meat! I gasped from a strange combination of relief and disappointment when he released my shameful little erection, and then he busied himself arranging some clean nappies together on the floor beside the change table.

He carefully placed one of my open pink disposables between the white cloth layers as a soaker pad, instead of one of Angie's smaller disposable diapers, like Mummy had done. This was going to be my thickest diaper yet! He gathered my slender ankles together in one huge hand and effortlessly raised my toesies high in the air, before slipping the arranged nappies too far underneath my dangling damp derriere, sliding them half-way up my back. David let my trembling botty drop onto the soft pile of waiting cloth, but then he dragged me down to the end of the table by my feet. I glided frictionlessly towards him because of the fluffy nappies underneath me, until my poor shivering bottom was almost hanging over the edge!

When he bent my knees right back against my chest and placed my trembling toesies on his broad manly chest, I suddenly realised that David's huge hard cock was already out of his pants! His rampant tool pressed against my tender botty cheeks as he settled my heels into position on his shoulders. It felt like the hot spongy head of David’s cock was trying to force entrance to my bruised backside. He grabbed a clear plastic bottle of 'Johnson and Johnson's' baby oil from the shelf above the table, expertly flipped open the blue lid with his thumb one-handed. With a leer, he squirted a stream of clear oil at the juncture of my raised legs. Some splashed over my bobbing clittie and onto my trembling tummy, but most ended up dripping down between my thighs, slowly trickling around my tight little sack and into my bumcrack. I was shaking from a combination of fear and excitement when he thrillingly wrapped his rough calloused right hand around my oily hard stiffie again.

"So if this is your clittie," he demanded in a hoarse whisper, squeezing my slippery tool harder for emphasis, "then what do you call this?" David poked his hot cock-head at my well-lubricated back door, to 'subtly' emphasize his point. I shuddered with a combination of excitement and shame as I submissively replied in my high, squeaking, little-girl voice.
"It'th my puthy! My boy-puthy," I whimpered, and he tried in vain to control his laughter. He held my legs clamped against his chest with his broad left forearm, and pressed his left hand over his full sensuous mouth to muffle the explosive snorting sounds. "It'th my puthy!" I plaintively whined, as hot tears of shame formed in my rapidly-blinking blue eyes.

When he finally brought his snickers under control, he anxiously glanced over towards Angie in her bed, making sure his uncontrollable outburst hadn't disturbed my heavily-sedated sister. When I turned my head and hazily checked too, I saw she hadn't moved an inch. Angie was still clutching her teddy with one dead arm, completely out-cold. "Oh, this is just too perfect!" David quietly chortled in glee. He bent his head to the side and clamped his calloused hand over his mouth again when he erupted in another fit of nervous giggles, bringing himself under control with difficulty before he gasped in amusement; "Your clittie and your pussy? How absolutely fuckin' perfect!"

He released his thrilling grip on my stiff, oil-soaked tool and reached down between our bodies, sliding his slippery warm palm over my smooth butt cheek until his thick fingers delved into my botty crack. Suddenly I felt his hard cock-head probing my greasy puckered opening with more purpose. "You want to be a girl so bad?" David roughly demanded. "Then you open up that tight little pussy for daddy, Baby Jennie. Go on! Show daddy what a good little girl you are… Open up, baby. Daddy wants to help make a real girl out of you."

It was as though he knew the magic words to make my body obey! I moaned as his hot cock-head began to relentlessly stretch my virgin hole wide. "Daddy knows that's what you really want, deep down,” he grunted. “Open up, girlie. Open up for daddy. Ohhh!" He clamped his left forearm tighter across my knees so I couldn't wriggle away, and I grunted in pain as the fat head slipped inside my dilating anal sphincter.

"Oh no, daddy!" I moaned in pain. I squealed in alarm around my dum-dums. "No daddy! It hurtth! It'th too big!"
David grimaced at my cries of distress and snickered dismissively, "That's what all the girls say - at first! But don't worry, baby - you'll soon come to love it. I promise!" He gripped my legs more securely and rammed his hips forward another inch, driving past my resistance. He grunted, “Take it, baby!”

It was then I really squealed in agony! I clenched my bum muscles tighter around him by pure reflex. "No daddy! Daddy! Daddeee!" Fortunately the slight tearing sensation inside was dulled by the heavy dose of codeine David had forced me to accept. But now he was making me accept something else, and deep down, I knew it was useless trying to resist him.

"Oh! Oh yes! Ohhh!" he gasped and then groaned in delight. "That's my tight little girl. Oh yeah! Good girl! That's daddy's good girl!" Despite the burning pain coming from my violated anus, I shuddered and moaned in unrepressed excitement at his rumbled words of praise, as David penetrated me like I was a real girl.

"Oh no! No, no! Ohh! Oh daddy, pweathe no?" I groaned loudly around my mouth-filling dum-dums before I could stop myself, overcome by the way he was taking me so forcefully.
"Shh, baby! Try and keep quiet for daddy," David ordered in a rumbled throaty whisper. He clamped his right fingertips over the wide pink guard of my dum-dums, and pressed the fat rubber teat deeper into my mouth.
"Mmph! Mmphh!" I grabbed his thick wrist with both tiny hands and tried to wrench his slippery hand away, but it was like moving a ton of iron. He resolutely held my pacifier in place, preventing me from spitting it out or crying for help. Not that he needed any help!
"Shh, baby," he urged me. "You just suck your dummy while daddy fucks you, baby girl. Suck your dum-dums, baby. Pretend that you're sucking daddy's cock, instead. I know how much you love that, Baby Jennie!"

I closed my eyes and moaned in fruitless denial around my dum-dums, even as my give-away clittie swelled and pulsated madly with excitement above my tummy. "Open right up for me," he grunted in a low voice thick and throaty with passion. "You know you want it! Open that pussy wide for daddy, you dirty little girl! Show daddy how much you want it, Baby Jennie. Oh yeah, baby! Yeah, that's it! Good girl, Jennie!"

He relentlessly slid his hot throbbing tool deeper inside me, and the feelings from my ravaged virgin hole were mind-boggling! It was slightly painful, yet it was like he was scratching an itch I had only recently discovered existed - a long-abiding itch, deep inside my boy-pussy. When he called me a girl, I naturally opened myself wider for him, and every time he used my feminine name, I accepted him a little deeper. Suddenly I knew I wanted him all the way inside me. I wanted him to fill me with his hot hard cock!

"Oh yeth, daddy. Yeth!" I squealed around my sloppy dummy teat in helpless excitement, my muffled cries of passion inspiring him to thrust even harder. He grunted in pleasure as my violated sphincter reacted appropriately to my submissive feminine feelings, and my naughty pussy opened sluttishly wide to accept his meaty anal intruder. I whimpered with need, overcome with sexual desire as he stretched me painfully wide with his hot hard tool. For I moment I thought I heard the doorbell ring as though from far away, but then I realised it was the blood pounding in my ringing ears.

"Oh yeah, baby! Daddy knew you needed a good fuck," David arrogantly rasped, forcing his huge cock further inside my writhing body, then withdrawing the massive girth a fraction. "That's it, Baby Jennie. Open up right up and let daddy fuck you like a good little girl!" His voice became a hoarse crooning whisper, the hypnotic words leading me down an ever-spiraling path. "Open right up for daddy. It's alright, baby. This is what you need.” He slid his throbbing cock in further, then withdrew another tantalising fraction of an inch. “Ohh, that's right! Good girl! You can't help it, baby. It isn't your fault. Daddy's fucking you. It's beyond your control.”

His thick hard cock began slowly pumping in and out of me, and I groaned at the unbelievably erotic sensations. “You're just a useless little baby girl. Aren't you?” he insisted from above me. “It's not your fault. You need a real man's cock inside you. You can't help it, Baby Jennie. That's the way God made you, I guess. You're a helpless little sissy girl, made for all the boys to use. There's nothing you can do about it. Ohh yes! That’s right! Open wide and let daddy fuck you all the way, little girl. Good girl!" His words were like a hypnotic mantra seeping into my brain, and all resistance crumbled. As soon as I began to push my naughty little bottom back against his wildly thrusting hips, he released my legs and grabbed the side of the change table instead.

He moaned gutturally in excitement as he forced himself even deeper, before sliding out most of the way, before thrillingly shoving himself further inside me yet again. He repeated the maddening intoxicating rhythm until I was almost begging him to fuck me! Fuck me harder! He groaned lustily as he plunged all the way inside me, until I could feel his hot sweaty balls pressing against my trembling bum cheeks. His shorts and underwear were puddled around his ankles, and he spread his sneaker-shod feet as wide as possible to maintain his balance. My thighs were pushed up hard against my heaving bosom by his manly chest, and my flexed knees flopped submissively wide. My mouth gaped open, my eyes similarly flying wide and staring blankly at nothing as he stretched open my pounding pussy to the absolute limit.

"Oh God! Oh God! Ohgodogodogod…" I squealed, sounding like Tammy's baby sister. My head thrashed from side to side beyond my control, till my dummy accidentally tumbled from my wide parted lips. The rattling noise of the pink plastic chain mingled with the faint tread of someone cautiously climbing the stairs, but my confused mind didn't notice the difference.

"Oh yeah, baby!" David grunted quietly in ecstasy, and leaned down over me to stare into the glazed eyes. He collected my dum-dums from beside my head by the chain, and then forced the slick rubber teat between my parted lips again. "Suck it, baby!" he commanded hoarsely. His bright blue eyes were shining with lust, his full lips contorted in a leer as he concentrated on the slippery smooth muscles wrapped tightly around his pulsating shaft. "Suck it hard for daddy like a good little girl!"

I bit on my dummy teat and sucked noisily as I clenched my big blue eyes closed in shame, afraid he would see how enthralled I was by his demeaning treatment. My jelly legs folded back so my trembling knees rested on my heaving shoulders, my thighs splayed wide, wantonly lifting my pussy so he could penetrate me more deeply. I grunted with animal desire as he urgently fucked me, until he moaned, "Oh yeah! That's it, baby. Oh yeah, good girl! You take it all for daddy like a good little girl," he whispered hypnotically. "Mmm, take it all the way to the hilt, Baby Jennie. Oh yeah! Like that! Ohh!" He kept his right hand pressed over the wide pink guard of my dum-dums to muffle my impassioned high-pitched squeals, and he released his grip on the table with his left. He gently trailed his rough calloused fingers down my trembling thigh and over my right hip, before clutching the side of the change table again and burying his swollen tool even deeper.

"God!” he whispered throatily. “Your skin is so smooth! Your legs are almost completely hairless - just like a girl's - and your skin is so soft." He leaned closer and started slamming his steel-hard rod in and out of my greedily clenching pussy like a pile-driver. My pulsating clittie became trapped between our sweaty heaving bodies. My pink-painted fingernails clawed at the t-shirt covering his muscled chest, barely making a dent in his rock-hard pectorals, but making his damp shirt creep up even higher. His bare hard abdomen pressed my excited oily tool against my soft tummy, still slippery from his greasy grasp. Without his strong arm to support them, my little footsies slowly slid down the supple sides of his broad manly chest, and I dimly noticed his firm flesh was slick with perspiration.

"Take it all, baby! Unggghhh! Take every inch for daddy, the way a good girl should," he growled masterfully. I could smell his musky sweaty odour, so different from my own, but his strong manly scent only heightened my feverish arousal. "Oh yeah, oh yeah! Ungh! Ungh," he grunted mindlessly. I shyly opened my eyes and glanced up at him through slitted lids. I could see his eyelids were tightly scrunched closed. He was biting his bottom lip and groaning in concentration. "Ungh! Ungh!" He looked like he was straining to do a poo! His puffy cheeks were red and flushed, his sensuously curled top lip beaded with sweat.

David released his grip on my dummy-ring and grabbed the other side of the table with his right hand until the knuckles went white, leaning into me as he increased the force and pace of his thrusts. He heavily bore down on me, till he was rapidly sliding all the way in, and then all the way out again. In and out, in and out. Faster and faster, deeper and deeper, his thick cock swelling and growing impossibly larger with every frantic plunging stroke. His full weight rested on my body, squashing me irresistibly into the padded surface of the change table. Instead of feeling crushed by his massive weight, I clutched my muscular lover to me more desperately, curling my legs and arms around him in desperation. My slippery hot clittie was being caressed by his rock-hard abs, compressed against my soft tummy until I thought the friction on the pulsating head must surely set the baby oil aflame!

David rocked further on top of me as he furiously pounded my arse, and my sweaty thighs flopped obscenely wide, submissively opening myself to his thrusting hips. I found my footsies wrapping around his slender waist almost by reflex, and I rested my bare heels on his strong muscular buttocks and held him tight against me. His thick round 'glutes' flexed and relaxed in spastic contractions as he rammed his huge tool in and out of me like a piston. Every time he jack-hammered his massive cock in and out of my pussy, his firm muscular flesh rubbed against the sensitive underside of my madly-pulsating clittie, and the sensations were driving me wild!

I bit harder on my dummy teat to stop myself from losing it again, and whimpered and moaned with unrepressed excitement. "Oh daddy! Daddy!"
"Shhh, baby. Shh, little girl. It's alright," he panted breathlessly. "Daddy knows how much you love it. You can't help it. Ungh, unghh! Oh yes! Daddy knew this was what you really needed, deep down. Daddy's fucking you, baby. Ohhh! Take it, baby. Take it all for daddy, like a good little girl. Ungh, oh God!" He stopped speaking so could concentrate on slamming his swelling tool in and out of me faster and harder.

I began to shake and shiver at the amazing sensations coming from my ravaged pussy. It felt like my quivering insides were being turned into liquid mush, and it was fantastic! The hot glow coming from deep inside my body spread like molten lave in all directions, until my tiny pink toenails curled into claws around his pounding buttocks. My throbbing clittie swelled bigger and harder, and I began to tremble uncontrollably. I thought I caught a flash of movement from the corner of my eye, but I was too preoccupied to care.

"Oh yeah, baby! Here it comes! Here it comes!" David ried to keep his straining voice low, but he was obviously equally overwhelmed by the unbelievable erotic sensations as he fucked me like a girl. The thought of what was happening blew my mind! Handsome David was fucking me! Fucking me like a real girl! "Take it, baby! Unnngh! Oh yeah! Ungh! Ohhh! Take it all for daddy! Aargh!" He almost drove me backwards with the power of his driving hips, but I held on with my heels and slammed my greedy pussy back to meet his violent thrusts.
"Fuck me! Fuck me, daddy!" I screamed around my dummy like an excited schoolgirl as the wonderful feelings overwhelmed me.

He thrust himself inside me so deeply, for a moment I thought the spurting head was going to pop out my mouth! "Ohhh Jennie!" His shaft pulsated wildly and his fat cock grew even thicker, and blast after blast of semen squirted inside my spastically-contracting pussy. At the same time my excitement bubbled over between us, and the bad baby juice spurted out of my trembling clittie. My sphincter muscles instinctively clamped harder on the throbbing tool trapped inside me, squeezing him remorselessly as though to milk out every drop of his precious seed.

"Oh God! Oh Jennie! Oh God!" he moaned loudly in the heat of passion, shuddering violently as he emptied himself into my steaming bowels. I don't think I'd ever felt more like a real girl than at that moment!
"Mummy! Daddy! Mumma!" I squealed around my dum-dums as I simultaneously climaxed. I wrapped my little arms around his broad sweaty back as far as I could reach, and clenched him to me with hands and heels as we both shuddered and writhed to glorious completion. I could feel his over-developed back muscles rippling under his damp t-shirt, like angry pythons trapped inside a moist cotton sack.

The crushing weight of him resting on my trembling body was beautifully overwhelming, and over the musky, sweaty smell of sex, I could detect the faint hint of apples from his hair conditioner. My heart was pounding in my chest, almost as fast and hard as David's. I could feel it through our mingled bodies. The heavy wooden change table groaned under our combined weight as we held each other tightly, struggling to catch our breath.

I timorously reached up to stroke the back of his head, and I didn't mind the rivulets of sweat rolling down his thick neck and dripping onto my flushed cheek. After a minute David reluctantly raised his damp tousled head and pressed his shoulders back. Our sweat-lubricated bodies parted with an erotic wet sucking sound, and he supported his weight on his extended arms as he gazed down at me through sleepy, half-closed lids. I recognized the glazed, self-satisfied look in those intense blue eyes.

"Oh yeah, baby! You fuckin' loved it!" David grunted in guttural satisfaction, as if everything he had ever assumed about me had now been proven true. He pushed my limp jerking body along the table away from him, and the thick nappies lying underneath allowed me to slide effortlessly backwards. He edged his slender hips away and I found myself clutching at his shrinking member with my sphincter muscles, mumbling incoherently in futile denial and trying desperately to keep his manhood inside my greedy pussy just a few moments longer. "Oohhh!" We both moaned uncontrollably as his fat cock-head noisily popped free of my clenching rosebud, and I could feel a trickle of warm baby juice leaking out of my hopelessly dilated sphincter.

When David withdrew, it was like I was doing the biggest poo-poo in the whole wide world! I felt disappointingly empty without his manly girth stretching me wide. I belatedly covered my shrinking clittie and ugly wrinkled sack with both tiny hands, as if trying to conceal my shameful male bits from my dominant new lover. He wore that sleepy, self-satisfied smile, and he sounded so relaxed when he muttered appreciatively; "Your pussy is so tight, baby!" He bent over to collect his shorts and underwear from around his ankles.

"Fucking hell!" The breathless gasp came from somewhere outside the room. In my confused state I couldn't tell from where exactly, until David whirled around in alarm to face the landing doorway. Connie stood there, her face blanched and her toothy mouth wide in horror. "Of course her pussy is tight!" she shrieked. "She's only six years old! You- You're- David, you're a paedophile!" Connie's hand flew up in shock to cover her gaping mouth, and she backed away from us in disgust, her terrified eyes wide.

I could see the whites of her eyes all the way around her dark brown irises, the pupils constricted to tiny black pinpoints. My dum-dums tumbled from my trembling lips in fright. "I decided to come back and check on the girls, since you seemed so angry. I was worried…" Connie mindlessly explained, as the crimson-faced hunk tried to tug his combined shorts and sweaty underwear up his trembling legs. She seemed to be in a trance as she continued babbling, "I heard you talking, so I came upstairs and saw you…and her… You were fuc- Oh my God!" She shuddered in horrified revulsion, which seemed to break the spell, and she whirled and ran towards the stairs.

"No Connie! No!" David clumsily lumbered after her like a hulking bear while trying to zip and button his shorts, leaving me lying naked on the change table on top of my cum-stained nappies. Before he reached the top of the stairs, we both heard the front door violently slam shut. I was shuddering and twitching uncontrollably in reaction. I reached further down between my splayed thighs, and I could still feel my lover’s warm cum trickling from my tender open hole. I brought my trembling knees right up to my heaving breast again, and opened my little legs wide so I could run my fingertips over my ravaged pussy. The normally-indented, wrinkled opening felt soft and puffy and swollen, like when my mouth had a fat lip.

I delicately ran my left fingers over the slippery sensitive flesh and, being careful of my sharp pink nails, tentatively slid one finger inside the tender puffy lips. My small index finger went in all the way in to the knuckle, and it didn't even feel like it touched the sides! I slipped it in and out and then rubbed my two longest fingers around the greasy swollen lips of my boy-pussy to coat them with lube and David's cum. I eagerly thrust them inside my naughty open hole. Ahh! That felt better! I wiggled my naughty fingers wide apart to stretch my pussy further open, and then grabbed hold of my stiffening little tool. I wrapped my right fist around it like David had been doing, rubbing my fingers up and down the thickening slick shaft in mounting excitement.

A few moments later I heard a noise on the stairs, and I guiltily ripped my greasy fingers from my sluttish hole. I released my thrilling grip on my excitable hard clittie, defensively pulling the nappy front up between my legs to conceal my tell-tale arousal. David stumbled back into the room, his bowed shoulders shaking and his face ashen. He stood there staring at me as though he wanted to kill me, and my slowly diminishing clittie began to rapidly shrivel in fear. His muscular frame seemed to shrink along with my erection, and his hands were trembling as he silently manhandled me into position over my clean nappies. Well, they were a little damp with our sweat and baby oil - and our baby juices - but they weren't really ‘dirty.’

David grabbed a handful of cool baby wipes, and grumbled wordlessly in disgust as he hurriedly wiped up the oil and bad baby juice smeared all over my crotch, chest and tummy. His hands were so rough when he carelessly scrubbed my sensitive little clittie, my tiny tool shrank even smaller. He disdainfully poured a handful of powder over my shrivelled pee-pee and between my legs, without bothering to rub it in.

I watched him fearfully as he tightly pinned my nappy in place over my hips, but he wouldn't meet my gaze. He seemed to be looking everywhere else; his nervous Paul Newman-blue eyes darting from the doorway to the landing, and then over to my sedated sister asleep in her bed, then back to where he had to thread my white rubber baby panties over my compliantly-pointed ballerina toesies. My pink dummy found its way back into my mouth without any conscious thought of mine, and I sucked on the chewy rubber teat for reassurance.

David clumsily clipped my onesie crotch together, almost tearing the stretchy cotton baby outfit in his haste to be rid of me. He unceremoniously thrust me back in my cot and raised the wooden side rail till it locked it place, and he scuttled from the Nursery without another word or a backward glance at me. In minutes I fell into a warm, dreamless sleep, slurping mindlessly on my pacifier.

I groggily came awake to the sound of side rail clattering down. Mummy had already opened the curtains, filling the room with the soft yellow glow of late afternoon sunshine. Angie was standing beside her bed dressed in her cute red polka-dot frock, although she was yawning tiredly and clutching her old brown teddy, leaning her upper body on her mattress. Mummy unfastened the snap fasteners in my onesie crotch and after lifting aside my rubber panties with one hand, she slipped the other inside my thick nappy. "You're a bit damp - but not as wet as I thought you'd be," she commented with a small pleased smile. "Mummy doesn't need to change your nappy yet, Baby Jennie. You girls have slept for hours, baby! I thought you were going to sleep the whole afternoon away." She removed my white Barbie onesie and then lifted me down, and the warm wet wad of material between my little legs forced my thighs wider apart than usual. Like when David forced my-

"Mummy, David-" I croakily attempted to tell her, but I hesitated. I realised I would have to confess to her how aroused I had become when our babysitter used me like a girl. Fortunately she cut me off with a tender smile, patting my blushing pink cheek affectionately.
"It's okay, baby girl. David already explained to me what happened," Mummy crooned indulgently, "and I told him he was a very naughty boy to do that to you - even though he said he was only trying to help."

Mummy slipped my sleeveless red polka-dot frock over my raised arms and settled the round open collar around my neck, before attaching my dummy chain with the clip. I watched her familiar actions with wide disbelieving eyes, almost numb with shock. "He told me you'd had some nightmares during your nap, too, and that he had to get you up to change your wet nappy. You'll probably feel a bit tired and sleepy this afternoon because of him," she commented sympathetically, "and you might have some more odd dreams, too. But don't worry, baby girl. Everything is alright." She hugged me warmly, and I clutched her tightly around the waist for support, my mind reeling at her calm dismissive words. "Mummy's here now, and she will keep her little girls safe. Alright?" I was stunned at the cavalier way she handled David assaulting me, but everything felt confused and hazy. Was it all just a bad dream?

Mummy lifted the abbreviated back hem of my polka-dot frock and gave the puffy seat of my rubber panties a few firm loving pats, asking; "Where are your pretty red panties, Baby Jennie? Oh, here they are." She collected the shiny satin knickers from beside the foot of the change table, and held them down and open for me to step into. That's when I knew it had been no dream! I clutched Mummy's shoulders for support as I clumsily threaded my ballerina toesies through the appropriate holes, and she firmly tugged the ruffled red knickers up over my puffy bottom till I was dancing on my tippy-toes. After buckling on my flat red sandals for me, and fluffing out the ruffled tiered skirts of my frock till they sat prettily over my bulky nappies, Mummy gripped my hand and held out her other hand for Angelica to take. "Come on, Angie," she urged my sleepy sister. "Take Mummy's hand, and I'll help you girls walk downstairs. You can watch some TV this afternoon, if you'd like? At least until after you wake up a bit more. Okay?"

Mummy put in a DVD of 'Aladdin' - the Disney cartoon version - which we'd already seen at least ten million times. But that was what Angie wanted to watch, and it seemed like she was the boss of everything today. When my sister lay on the carpet with her head resting on her brown teddy, I wished I'd brought my bear with me, too. Mummy returned from the kitchen a few minutes later with a red sippy-cup of juice for Angie, and my filled pink baby bottle. "Mummy," I plaintively whined like an irritable, overtired toddler, "I need my teddy, too. Pweathe Mummy?"

"Alright, darling," she said, smiling indulgently while handing me my bottle. I went to guide the teat in my face and almost dropped the heavy vessel. "Use two hands, baby," Mummy cautioned me, and her smile grew broader when I clumsily obeyed. "Good girl."
"It'th in my cwib, Mummy," I needlessly explained before I spat out my dum-dums. "My pink teddy bear," I sleepily reminded her, before plunging the spurting nipple in my mouth.
"I know which teddy is yours, Baby Jennie. Silly girl!" she gently chided me. "I'm your Mummy, remember? Mummies know everything!" She tossed me a forgiving smile before vanishing upstairs, and she returned a few minutes later carrying my plush pink teddy and both our baby dollies.

I think Angie and I slept through most of the movie, cuddling our baby dolls with our heads resting on the soft tummies of our plush teddies. The only thing that prompted us to sit up was when Mummy reappeared some time later carrying a plate of chocolate-covered biscuits, my bottle filled with warm milk, and Angie's purple sippy-cup. My sore bottom felt more tender than usual inside my warm soggy nappy, especially around my sensitive rosebud, but I eagerly sat up nonetheless.

I love chocolate biscuits, but before I was allowed to touch one, Mummy insisted on clipping a fresh yellow bib around my neck. This one had an elaborate lighter yellow lace frill sewn around the collar and the outside edge, and as I hungrily munched, I felt glad my sister couldn't read the humiliating message embroidered across the front. The bright red cursive text over my breast proudly proclaimed me to be; 'Mummy's Little Nappy Wetter.' Although when Mummy made me lift the hem of my frock and slipped her hand down inside my rubber panties while I munched, she looked pleased when she announced I hadn't wet though - yet.

It was fun eating yummy chocolate biscuits between sucking down mouthfuls of sweet warm milk from my pink bottle. I suggested to Angie that we watch 'The Pony Club' again. Fortunately when she turned on the TV, a new episode was just about to start. Mummy came back later and sat down on the lounge, and she watched the whole second episode with us. She agreed with Angie that the boys in the show were yucky and horrid, and when my sister piped up during an ad break, "I'm glad I'm not a horrible boy," I found myself unconsciously nodding in agreement with her and Mummy.
"I wish I wath a girl," I quietly mumbled after removing the teat from my mouth, and accidentally dribbled some milk down my chin. Luckily my yellow bibbie was there to stop my pretty red frock from getting stained.

Angie turned away from the TV to stare at me in surprise. "But Baby Jennie! You are a girl! You're my baby sister, and you are a girl! A very pretty baby girl!" I couldn't help but smile at my sister’s earnest reassuring words of praise, my cheeks turning pink with pleasure. I felt a warm glow all over when Mummy nodded thoughtfully and murmured in agreement.
"Yes, Baby Jennie. You're a very pretty little girl. But even pretty little girls have to learn to grow up, sometime," Mummy gently reminded me, making my shy smile falter. I thrust my bottle teat back in my mouth to cover my embarrassment, and noisily slurped on the nipple to fill the sudden silence. We watched the rest of the show without any more conversation, and as soon as it finished, Mummy jumped to her feet.

"I'd better go and check on dinner," she said, before hurrying into the kitchen. "Otherwise my pretty little girls are going to starve tonight!"
"Lets do some colouring-in, baby," Angie proposed, and she opened the drawer under the coffee table and took out some of her picture books. We sorted through them together, and I was mildly jealous when she grabbed the only 'Pony Club' booklet.

"This one's mine," my sister defiantly stated, clutching the slim volume to her breast. "You can colour in one of the 'My Little Pony' ones, Baby Jennie." At least I was allowed to choose my own colouring-in book, and I selected the one with a drawing of the pretty pony with the long mane that had yet to be filled in. She was my favourite. We lay on the plush sunroom carpet on our tummies, with our dollies and teddies arranged around us so they could watch, and I was soon lost in the sweet feminine world of pastel-coloured ponies.

When the front doorbell rang, it seemed to sound from far away, and I didn't bother looking up from my drawing. I found it especially hard to stay inside the lines this afternoon, as I coloured the rearing pony's mane a darker pink than her body. I chewed on my satisfying dum-dums and frowned in hazy concentration. "I'm sure she'll love that! Here are my girls," Mummy cheerfully announced, and when Angie and I turned towards the doorway, we saw Connie walking in behind our mother. I felt a brief jolt of fear shoot through my body, before that emotion was overwhelmed by a strange wave of lassitude.

The toothy brunette teenager was smiling hesitantly, although her pretty face looked unusually pale and drawn. She was carrying a small pink suitcase with colourful Barbie stickers all over it, and she gave us a little wave with her free hand before turning to our mother to ask; "Is Baby Jennie alright?" I could clearly detect the concern in her voice.
"Yes, she's fine," Mummy reassured her, smiling quizzically at the pretty teen.

"I mean, after what David did to her… You know? I wasn't here at the time," Connie hurriedly explained, as though to excuse herself of any wrongdoing. "I only arrived afterwards." My heart almost skipped a beat, and I felt the blood drain from my cheeks.
"Oh yes," Mummy replied with a small frown and an annoyed shake of her head. "David told me what he did. That was very naughty of him…"
"Naughty?" Connie repeated the mild rebuke in an incredulous tone, rearing her head and looking horrified on my behalf.

"Yes, very naughty," Mummy replied slightly more sternly, looking puzzled by the young girl's over-reaction. "When he told me he made Baby Jennie take some of Angie's medicine to encourage her to take hers, I told him he shouldn't have done that! I don't think I'll let him babysit my precious girls again."
"Oh, that!" Connie looked like a balloon deflating. Her tone was much more subdued when she asked, "Oh, okay then. So is it alright to like, give these to Baby Jennie?"
Mummy still looked slightly confused when she replied, "Yes, of course, darling! That's very kind of you."
"Hi Connie," Angie sleepily greeted the hesitantly smiling girl.

"Hi Angie, hello Baby Jennie," Connie politely responded, but I didn't know what to say. I mumbled something incomprehensible around my dummy teat and then sucked harder to cover my embarrassment. Connie stepped closer and I dazedly sat up to face her, my cheeks blushing pinkly when I saw her tentative smile broaden while she read the humiliating message on my bib. "Hello 'Mummy's Little Nappy Wetter.'” She giggled. “Angie told me you didn't own any, so here, Baby Jennie." She thrust the tiny pink suitcase into my hands by way of explanation, and my little fingers trembled when I nervously opened the two shiny metal clasps. The case sprang open to reveal two old Barbie dolls stuffed inside, along with a mass of tiny dresses, skirts, blouses and shoes.

Angie squealed in delight as my mouth fell open in surprise. Connie had given me her old Barbies, plus loads of clothes and accessories! Despite my embarrassment, I was touched by her generous gesture, and I shyly thanked her from around my dum-dums. "Fank you, Connie," I mumbled in appreciation, as I carefully took out the blonde doll first. Then I realised with a start; Connie thought I was only six years old. I was supposed to be acting like a six-year-old girl.

"Wook Mummy!" I cried in excitement from around my dum-dums, holding up my prize and waving it about like an excited pre-schooler. "My own Barbieth!" When I noticed a yellow satin dress in the suitcase under the brunette doll, I snatched it before Angie could. I held up the tiny buttercup-yellow dress with my other hand. "And wook! Thith dweth ith the thame cowour ath our yewwow fwockth!"

"Yes darling, it is!" Mummy cooed, smiling indulgently down at me. I eagerly pawed through the suitcase, before tipping the contents on the floor to search for a pair of tiny yellow high heels to match Barbie's pretty satin ball gown. Angie snatched up the brunette Barbie and began to examine her arms and legs, snorting in contempt at the antiquated lack of bendable limbs. She abandoned the obsolescent doll to paw through the scattered clothes and accessories, frowning in hazy concentration.

"Mrs R?" Connie softly asked, but her big brown eyes never left my face. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Yes, my dear?" Mummy responded, with a pleased smile for her generosity.
"How old is Baby Jennie really?"

I squeezed my new blonde Barbie tightly in panic and glanced up in horror at the unexpected question, clutching a single tiny yellow plastic shoe in my other hand.
"My big baby turned thirteen last birthday," Mummy casually replied, as if it were completely normal to have a teenager sitting on the floor dressed in nappies and baby clothes. Connie turned to stare down at me in stunned surprise, her big brown eyes wide. I knew my cheeks were blazing with shame, and when my watering blue eyes dropped to the carpet, Connie turned to my beaming mother again.
"And David told me… It can't be! Is it true that she's really a boy?"

My mother's affectionate smile never faltered when she lovingly gazed down at me. "Well Connie, while it's true that Baby Jennie was born a boy… I think God might have had something else in mind for my special little Princess."
"Mummy, I did a poo!" Angie loudly announced, and she cast aside a handful of doll dresses to clumsily kneel up. She climbed to her feet and waddled awkwardly over to our mother, holding out her little arms to be picked up. I was grateful for the interruption when Mummy automatically crouched and gathered my sister in her arms.

"Pooh! You certainly did, Angie! Come with me upstairs, and we'll change you out of that nasty stinky nappy straight away." Mummy gave a pointed look in my direction and glanced inquiringly at Connie, who nodded briefly in understanding at the unspoken question.
"I'll wait here with the baby until you get back," the toothy brunette kindly offered, and Mummy smiled her thanks before carrying Angie away. When we heard them disappear up the stairs, Connie turned to stare down at me in frank disapproval.

"So your Mummy doesn't know… You didn't tell her," the toothy teen ruminated aloud, as though she was considering her options. I couldn't meet her furious brown eyes when Connie glared accusingly at me. "You lied to me!" Bright spots of colour appeared on her otherwise pale cheeks. I sucked harder on my dum-dums and nodded guiltily, my head bowed in shame. "You told me that you were only six years old, and that you were a little girl." I kept my chin down and silently nodded again, and she gave a sharp snort of annoyance. 'You naughty little girl!"

"I couldn't help it," I whined, childishly seeking to avoid any responsibility for my actions. "My Auntieth made me do it!" I ineffectually tried to excuse my misbehaviour.
"Hmph! Your Aunties made you do it, huh? When David told me the truth about you, I called him a liar! Now I'll have to go and apologise to that stupid prat…"

She crouched down beside me and put her mouth close to my ringing red ear. "When I walked in on you two in the Nursery upstairs… He was fucking you, wasn't he?" I nodded, reduced to shame-faced silence, my burning cheeks crimson with embarrassment. "He told me that you wanted it… You were begging him for it all afternoon… And I heard you upstairs," she whispered accusingly. I couldn't tell if it was amazement, jealousy, or disgust that tinged her low voice. "I heard you begging him to fuck you up the arse! You dirty little slut!" Feelings of shame and guilt almost overwhelmed me, blood pounding like a drum in my ears. "So the question is - do I tell your Mummy what David was doing to you? Well, Baby Jennie? Do you want me to tell your Mummy what that nasty, big bad boy did to 'Mummy's Little Nappy Wetter'?"

To be continued in chapter 19.

Please leave your comments here. I'd love to know what my readers think.
Baby Jennie

Synopsis; Connie comes back to visit, to check on Baby Jennie. She offers to stay and help babysit the toddlers, and offers to help them start potty-training. Privately, Connie threatens Baby Jennie she will tell her Mummy about what David did to her - unless Baby Jennie tells her Mummy first. Baby Jennie fears she has truly lost control of her bladder and bowels - like a real toddler.

Chapter 19. Potty-training Begins

"Pweathe Connie? Pweathe don't tell my Mummy?" I begged, cringing and blushing in shame. Connie leaned back so she could stare at my flushed red cheeks, and she reached down and grabbed the bottom of my frilly bib to brusquely wipe away my tears.
"Shhh! Shh, little girl! There's no need for tears," Connie quietly reassured me. I tried to suck back my sobs along with my dum-dums. She dropped the lacy hem of my yellow bib and smoothed it out over my trembling bosom as she cooed, "I won't tell your Mummy what her dirty, disgusting little girl got up to with her wicked babysitter. Not yet."

She grinned at my horrified expression and continued in a more soothing tone; "As long as you agree to one condition?" Connie smiled triumphantly when I submissively nodded, too terrified to contemplate bargaining with her. "That's a good little girl! Don't worry! It's a simple task. When your Mummy comes back downstairs, I want you to ask her if I can be your babysitter from now on, instead of David. Alright?" I meekly nodded my acquiescence, wondering if I should feel disappointed or relieved by her peculiar - if easily satisfied - request.

"I can't let that nasty brute look after you little girls ever again," she firmly explained. "What he did to you was wrong! Very wrong! You know that, don't you, little girl?" I nodded again, tears of shame trickling down my flushed cheeks. "You're going to have to tell your Mummy what he did to you," she cautioned me, ignoring my whimpered protests when I frantically shook my head. "No, no! I mean it. She has to know! If you don't tell your mum David assaulted you by this weekend, I'll tell her for you."
"No, no! Pweathe no, Connie," I tearfully pleaded. "I'll tell Mummy - jutht not yet."
She grimaced sorrowfully at my heartfelt plea. "Okay, Baby Jennie," Connie reluctantly conceded. "I'll give you until Saturday."

We both heard Mummy escorting Angie downstairs. Before they strolled into the sunroom hand-in-hand, Connie made sure my damp pink cheeks were free of tell-tale tears. "Now stop that silly crying. That's better," she cooed to me in tender loving tones. She wiped my glistening chin dry with my bib one last time and let it drop. "That's my pretty little baby girl."

"My, you certainly have a way with my little girls!" Mummy chuckled approvingly, as she maternally straightened my sister's tiered red frock. "Angie told me you did a very good job of changing her nappy and looking after her this afternoon before her nap, too." She released Angie's tiny hand and my sister danced over and hugged the toothy brunette crouching in front of me. "And to think - I paid David to look after my babies today," Mummy muttered with an exasperated sigh.
"Mummy? Can Aunty Connie babythit uth from now on?" I quietly asked. I felt pleased when Angie enthusiastically agreed with my timid request.

"Yes Mummy!" Angie stared up entreatingly at our mother, her cornflower-blue eyes shining with excitement. "Oh yes! Connie is a much better babysitter than that stupid ol' David! He's a meanie!" Connie giggled at my sister's glowing endorsement, and turned to smile toothily up at Mummy.

"I'd be happy to look after your gorgeous little girls anytime you want," Connie offered with an easy grin. "I'm on holidays for the next few weeks, and I have tons of free time." Mummy smiled happily and nodded. in response.
“Yes! Yes! Yayyy!” Angie squealed.

"That would be great, Connie!" Mummy replied, sounding equally delighted by the idea. "I don't think David is responsible enough to look after my precious little girls, and they certainly have taken quite a shine to you."
"Would you like me to help out for the rest of this afternoon, or this evening? I really don't have any plans for the rest of the day," the pretty brunette admitted, before offering; 'No charge, either! We can call it a training run. You can show me your little tricks for keeping your pretty baby girls happy and content."
"Certainly, darling! That would be wonderful!" Mummy enthusiastically agreed. "Could you check Baby Jennie's nappy for me right away? She's overdue for a change, and knowing my little nappy wetter, she's probably saturated by now!"

When I sat back on my puffy wet bottom and helpfully raised the front of my red polka-dot frock over my tummy, Connie tossed me an encouraging smile. "Good girl, Baby Jennie!" She pulled aside the snug elastic waistbands of my satin panties and my rubber pilchers with one hand, and plunged the fingers of her other hand inside to probe the outside of my nappy crotch. "Hmm. She's wet through, but not saturated."
"That's okay. I'll change her nappy now, anyway. That will see my big baby through until bath time tonight," Mummy replied.

"Would you like me to give you a hand?"
"Actually, that would be a great idea, Connie! As you can see my bigger baby wears cloth nappies most of the time - unlike her sister - and there are a few tricks to pinning them on correctly," Mummy explained. She turned to glance at my sister, then decided; "I'm sure Angelica can be trusted to wait down here for Mummy like a good little girl while we change the baby upstairs. Can't you, honey?" When Angie smiled and nodded affirmatively, Connie helped me to clumsily stand.

"Come on, 'Mummy's Little Nappy Wetter.' It's time to change that wet, wet nappy!" Connie sang in sweet invitation. She held my left hand in her left and reached behind my back with her right hand to help me waddle slowly upstairs, coaxing me like an unsteady toddler while Mummy impatiently followed behind. The grinning teen reached behind me to gently swat my soggy bottom in encouragement as I clumsily climbed each step. Her cupped palm struck my tautly-stretched rubber panties with that distinct wet sound, so familiar to all mothers with diapered toddlers. As soon as we entered the Nursery, Mummy scooped me off my feet and placed me on my back on the change table.

Connie cooed, "Lift up that bot-bot for Aunty Connie, baby girl. Botty up!" When I obediently raised my bottom, she tucked my ruffled dress hem high up my back, out of harm's way. The pretty brunette stood beside the table and watched, grinning toothily while Mummy removed my strappy red sandals.

Before she removed my pretty red satin knickers and my sticky white rubber panties, Mummy commanded in honeyed tones; "Lift that botty again for Mummy, baby. Good girl, and botty down. Now lift those little footsies, and ballerina toesies. Good girl!"
"Gosh, she's very wet," Connie commented in amazement, when Mummy lowered the soggy front of my thirsty terry nappies.
"My Baby Jennie is a very heavy wetter, unfortunately. If you intend babysitting my girls in future, Connie, you'll have to remember to check my bigger baby's nappies quite frequently," Mummy confided with a small grimace of resignation, before turning to me and singing; "Lift that bot-bot up high in the air again for Mummy, sweetie."

Mummy slid the saturated nappies from under me and removed the oversized soaker pad with a frown. She folded the sodden diaper into a nappy sack, and then dumped the bundle in the trash bin. The soggy cloth nappies went in my nappy bucket as usual. She showed Connie how to place a fresh toddler's disposable between the two clean cloth layers to act as an extra soaker pad, and where the flushable nappy liners had to be placed in case I did a poopie. "Upsy-daisy, baby girl," Mummy sang, as I lay there red-faced and flushed with embarrassment. I compliantly kept my bottom high in the air until the clean nappies had been slipped underneath and positioned correctly, and then lowered my trembling bumcheeks onto the soft fluffy terrycloth with a grateful sigh.

Mummy's hands were sure and gentle as she wiped away all traces of urine and stale powder from between my legs. I felt myself stiffening involuntarily when she wiped clean my shrivelled clittie, and then she raised my ankles to clean my bot-bot. I relaxed and let my knees fold back against my chest, my nether cheeks lazily drifting open. Mummy carefully wiped my crack several times, and when she slid her wipe-wrapped finger inside my slippery back door, I was almost expecting it. I relaxed my sphincter and sighed and closed my eyes, sucking harder on my dum-dums in pleasure. This time her index finger slid in all the way to the last knuckle without any resistance, drawing a quiet groan of appreciation from around my dummy teat. Her finger thrillingly twirled and swirled inside my greedy poo-poo hole, until I began to moan softly with arousal.

When Mummy lowered my ankles and caught sight of my thickening erection, she frowned - even as Connie covered her mouth and burst into a fit of giggles. "I'm sorry about that, Connie." Mummy apologised, sniffing in disapproval. "It looks like my bad little girl is trying to show off for you. Wait here with my naughty baby. I'll be back in a minute." Even though I suspected Mummy was going to the kitchen to fetch a cold spoon, my erection grew perversely harder when Connie stared at my rising tumescence with unfeigned interest. She kept giggling until Mummy returned a few minutes later clutching the familiar frosty utensil and frowning severely.

"Hold baby's ankles down against the change table, please Connie?" Mummy requested in a dull monotone. "Let me show you what we do with naughty babies."
"No Mummy! Pweathe- Oww!" I squealed in pain as my mother covered my aroused genitals with the icy-cold spoon, but this time I kept my hands out of the way and tried not to interfere. Instead I began crying from a combination of frustration, anger and pain. I impotently beat my clenched fists against the soft padded table top and wailed like a frustrated baby at the unfairness of it all, sucking harder on my dum-dums in a fruitless search for comfort.

"This is how we deal with naughty little baby girls who want to show off," Mummy snorted in contempt, her olive-green eyes blazing.
"My, that certainly seems to do the trick!" Connie commented in admiration, her big brown eyes wide with amazement. She chuckled in derision when Mummy removed the freezing implement a minute later. I didn't need to glance down to know my frozen white clittie had shrunk to a mere stub of its former glory, and my tiny shrivelled sack hung wrinkled and empty. I sucked noisily on my dummy teat until my sobs slowed, while Mummy heavily powdered me front and back. Then she continued demonstrating to Connie how to correctly pin my thick fluffy nappies in place with two pins either side.

"Baby Jennie needs plenty of powder on her thighs, too," Mummy instructed, as she sprinkled the sweet-smelling talc all around my upper legs and rubbed it in. "It makes her wetproof rubber panties slide up easier," she explained, "and helps her smell more like a sweet little baby girl – and less like an unwashed toilet." When my damp rubber panties and shiny red satin panties had been tugged into place, Mummy sat me up and fluffed out my ruffled dress hem over my bulky padded hips with maternal affection. She lifted me down and urged me on my way to the landing with a crisp swat to my heavily-padded rear. Even though the smack was loud in the quiet room, my nappy was so thick, I barely felt a thing on my bot-bot. "You go downstairs and play with Angie while I have a little chat with Connie, baby girl," Mummy ordered with a thin-lipped smile.

I sulkily waddled away enveloped in a cloud of lightly-perfumed baby powder, but at least it was easier to walk in my fresh nappy. The dry disposable soaker pad didn't take up anywhere near as much room between my thighs as a full wet one, and I knew I wasn't waddling as badly as before. Even so, I gripped the handrail tightly for support while I carefully toddled downstairs, one step at a time

When Connie and Mummy returned to the sunroom, both women wore broad smiles. Mummy looked rather pleased with herself. Connie sat on the floor and played Barbies with Angie and me for while, and she treated us exactly the same - like two pretty little toddler girls. I felt slightly miffed when Angie chided me for dressing my brunette Barbie in some green slacks and a blue top. "No, Baby Jennie. You shouldn't put green and blue together," she cattily informed me, like she was the fashion police.

I was about to tell my bossy sister to mind her own business when I saw Connie nodding in agreement. "That's right, sweetie." Our babysitter chanted a little rhyme; "Blue and green should never be seen, without a colour in between…." I acceded to their wishes and dressed my Barbie in some silver lurex pants instead. She did look prettier… The rest of the afternoon seemed to disappear in a flash, our feminine play broken only by the frequent diaper checks Connie performed on me. My nappy was damp after only half an hour, but the toothy teenager assured me; “That’s okay! You don’t need changing yet.”

Mummy eventually called to us from the kitchen, asking Connie to bring us in for dinner. The smiling teenager made us pack away our Barbies and all the clothes and accessories first. She then took us both by the hand and led us into the kitchen, awash with wonderful food scents. "Here, Connie. Can you clip this bib on Baby Jennie?" Mummy handed the smiling teenager a pastel-pink bib with elaborate white lace frills around the edge and lining the collar. Connie held it up to admire the pretty trimmings, and she chortled at the shameful message embroidered across the front; 'Baby Jennie (heart) dirty diapers.'

My cheeks grew warm as she clipped the humiliating pink bib around my neck. I wondered if the grown-ups knew how true the embarrassing inscription was. We were served sausages and mashed potato and peas for dinner, and I was thrilled to find I was allowed to eat big-girl food, too! Despite the fact that Connie buckled me securely into my highchair and fixed the tray in place first, I was beaming with delight when she placed the plate of real food on my tray. My damp nappy grew wetter under my bottom and I wriggled about in pleasure in the familiar comforting warmth. I didn't even mind that Connie cut up my sausages into tiny bite-size chunks first, or when she cooed encouragement to me as she fed me my dinner with a pink-handled toddler's fork. However, I felt my cheeks blush warmly with embarrassment when she frequently chided me for dribbling uncontrollably.

"Gosh, Baby Jennie! What a drooler you are," Connie complained in a mild teasing tone. She smiled to take the sting out of her words while she wiped my chin a third or fourth time with my pretty pink bibbie. "Such a dribble-puss!"
"That's why babies wear bibs," Angelica piped up, before proudly pointing out; "I don't need a bib anymore, Connie. I'm a big girl - not a dribble-puss baby like Baby Jennie." Mummy and Connie merely smiled in approval at Angie's unfair comparison. I remained silent and tried to concentrate on the unfamiliar action of chewing solid food.

"When are you going to start potty-training the girls?" Connie asked our mother, as she kindly wiped my messy face with my frilly bib one more time.
"I was actually planning on starting Thursday - tomorrow morning, in fact," Mummy replied. She took away Angie's empty plate and gave her a bowl of sweet rice and custard for dessert. My sister snatched up her spoon with an exclamation of joy and enthusiastically tucked in to her sweet course.

"Perhaps you should start potty-training them tonight - after their dinner, but before their bath. That was the time we normally used to put my little sister on the potty, when we started toilet-training her," Connie suggested, ignoring my instantly horrified expression.

Mummy plonked a Barbie bowl full of sweet rice and custard on my tray, and handed the pink rubber-coated spoon to Connie with a nod of agreement. "That's an excellent idea, Connie. My husband has already made a new potty-chair for my special big baby girl, and you can help me get the girls settled on their potties before bath time."
"I can even keep an eye on them for you while they sit on their potties, if you'd like," the smiling teen kindly offered. I felt the blood drain from my face. I normally love Mummy's rice and custard, but tonight the sweet dessert tasted like ashes in my mouth. Connie wanted to watch me perform on the potty like a silly three-year-old? No way! But when Mummy removed my restraints and lifted me down from the highchair, she instructed Connie to take both her little girls up the Nursery and undress them, and she would fetch my new potty from the garage.

Connie undressed us both in then Nursery, skillfully tossing our bunched-up red dresses in the laundry hamper in the corner. When she unpinned my nappy it was drenched again, but she didn't bother commenting on my saturated state. She merely dumped the sodden pieces of cloth in the nappy bucket with a disbelieving shake of her head. After Connie lifted Angie down from the change table, our mother walked into the Nursery carrying our potty-chairs.

"Bring the girls into the bathroom, please Connie," Mummy requested, and the teenager led us waddling naked towards the en-suite. "I'll bring their potties up here before bedtime, and take them to the downstairs bathroom again after breakfast."

Daddy had purchased a pink-painted, child-size wooden chair and converted it into a potty-chair for me before he left for Canberra. He had sawed a hole in the seat and installed wooden tracks below, so that a big matching, pastel-pink plastic potty could be slid into position under the hole. The chair legs were cut very short, so the seat only sat about eight inches above the floor, with just enough room to slide the potty underneath. Finally, a pink leather waist-strap and buckle piece had been screwed to the solid wooden back, just like my highchair. After I had been buckled into the embarrassing pink potty-chair, I wouldn't be able to stand up until a grown-up released me.

Mummy turned on the hot water first, squirted in some bubble bath, and let the bath fill while she arranged our potty-chairs side-by-side. I stood beside my basbysitter staring at the humiliating pink chair in mounting trepidation, covering my tiny clittie with my free hand. My cheeks were already tinged pink with shame. When Connie's smirk grew broader, the rosy blush spread down my neck until my upper chest became flushed and mottled. Basically my potty-chair was the same as Angie's - except mine was pink, and slightly larger.

It was mortifying to be buckled in like a useless toddler in front of the grinning Connie, especially when Mummy made a big show of helpfully tucking my shrivelled clittie inside the pink splash guard in front for me. Angelica didn't seem to mind that we had an audience, and she chattered non-stop to our babysitter the whole time Connie settled her on her potty and buckled her in.

Mummy gave me a condescending smile and crooned in syrupy baby-talk; "Baby Jennie, I want you to try hard to do a poo-poo in your potty for Mummy, like a big girl. You've had a dirty nappy almost every morning this week, so try and do a poo-poo before bedtime, sweetie. Okay? Mummy doesn't want to have to deal with another messy nappy in the morning." I cringed in embarrassment when Connie giggled uncontrollably at that humiliating morsel of information. “Try hard to do wee-wees and poo-poos in your potties, girls,” Mummy encouraged us, then left us under the grinning teenager's watchful eyes.

Connie straddled the bench seat and sat down facing us, so I was gazing up between the toothy brunette's shapely tanned legs. She impatiently tapped the toe of one pastel-pink sandshoe, making her bronzed calf and thigh muscles tremble. My eyes automatically followed the muscular curve cut into her silky-smooth inner thigh, all the way up to where it disappeared under the ragged bottom of her cut-offs. Her tiny stonewashed denim shorts tightly hugged her female cleft, giving her puffy pudenda a 'camel-toe' appearance, but I couldn't tell if she was wearing any panties. I assumed she was, but she was probably wearing a tiny G-string. There was no sign of her underwear, even when she wriggled her big round bottom forward on the seat and spread her plump thighs wider in an attempt to make herself more comfortable.

Although I could have probably tried to empty my bowels, there was no way I was going to make a big smelly mess in my potty! Not with pretty Connie sitting right next to us on the bench seat, watching me like a hawk. I decided to simply sit there and patiently wait her out until Mummy decided to release me to put me in the bath. I glanced at my sister beside me, who also sat there looking nonplussed by the whole experience.

The busty brunette teenager crooned in encouragement to us, telling us; "Try and do wetties and jobbies in your potties, girls. Go on! It's time to try and make a wee-wee or a poo-poo in the potty. You can do it, girls. Take a deep breath and hold it, and then push down with your tummy muscles…" She matched her actions to her words, pressing the front of her t-shirt over her stomach with both hands so that the hot-pink material was stretched taut over her generous bosom. She looked so comical holding her breath till her red cheeks puffed out, frowning in exaggerated concentration and biting her pink-painted bottom lip with her huge front teeth as she pretended to bear down to do a poo-poo.

We had to giggle at her silly potty-face. As I laughed, I heard the tinkling sound of my wee-wees unintentionally splashing into the pink plastic potty underneath me. Despite feeling mildly embarrassed at emptying my bladder in front of a relative stranger, I almost squealed in excitement. "I'm doing a wee-wee in my potty!” I spread my thighs as wide as I could and tried to peer down between my legs into my plastic commode, seeking to confirm the truth. “Look, Connie! Look! I'm going wee-weeth in my potty!"
"Good girl! Good girl, Baby Jennie!" Connie loudly praised me, which brought our mother running from her bedroom.

Mummy hopefully asked, "Has Angie…?"
"No, not yet. But Baby Jennie did a wee-wee in her pot-pot like a big girl," Connie informed her with a pleased smile.
"Oh good," Mummy replied slightly less enthusiastically, with a tolerant smile for me.
"Mummy! I'm doing a wee-wee, too!" Angie broke in, her wide blue eyes shining with joy. As my stream trickled to a halt, we could all hear the splashing sounds coming from my sister's yellow potty.

"Good girl, Angelica! What a clever big girl you are for Mummy!" Mummy volubly praised her, beaming with delight at Angie's first successful attempt to use the potty. When my sister finished urinating, Mummy wiped us both down with some toilet tissue, and then threw the paper in the toilet. She seemed disappointed that I had failed to move my bowels, too, but managed to conceal her displeasure from Angie. After we had been released from our potty-chairs, Mummy continued to heap praise on us as she emptied the amber contents into the grown-ups' toilet. We climbed into the tub and sank beneath the bubbles. Mummy flushed the toilet and rinsed our plastic potties in the bathroom basin.

Connie assisted Mummy with bathing us that evening, and I found it incredibly embarrassing to have my clittie and my boy-pussy handled so intimately by this cute grinning teenager. She talked down to me and treated me like a useless toddler the whole time, too. In a way I was grateful for the overwhelming humiliation, as it precluded any chance of my becoming inadvertently aroused by her overly-familiar handling.

Mummy stood beside the change table and watched as Connie diapered me for the night unassisted, nodding and smiling in approval when the toothy teen instructed me; "Lift those little footsies and ballerina toesies for Aunty Connie, Baby Jennie. Good baby!" She threaded a crackling pair of pink plastic panties over my pointed feet, and slid them up to my thighs. "Footsies down, and lift that bot-bot for me," she sang invitingly. She slid the noisy rustling baby pants up over my raised bottom, tucked everything in, and then she clipped me into a pink onesie. "What a good little baby girl you are!" she generously praised me. As soon as I was safely diapered and dressed for bed, Mummy lifted me into my crib while Connie placed Angie naked and giggling on the change table. My sister happily babbled away while our toothy babysitter diapered her for the night. A few minutes later, Mummy returned with a baby bottle full of warm milk for me and a full purple sippy-cup for Angie.

"Baby Jennie, I want you to try and stay clean for Mummy tonight, alright?" Mummy insisted, as she eased the teat between my lips and tilted my bottle up to encourage me to start drinking. "No more poopy nappies, okay? Try and behave like a big girl for Mummy and hold it until I put you on the potty in the morning. Understand?" I meekly nodded without removing the dripping teat from my mouth, even though I was uncomfortably aware of the full feeling in my bowels already. "Good girl." Mummy kissed me goodnight and raised the side of my crib, and then she demonstrated the locking mechanism to Connie. Both women finally bade us goodnight and strode out, leaving the room in relative darkness. I cupped one hand over my bulky nappy crotch and absent-mindedly patted the warm damp spot that had already formed inside my crackling baby panties.

I awoke early Thursday morning in my crib and sniffed the air around me. I no longer thought of it as Angie's old crib - but 'my crib.' I’d done it again! I had made poopies in my nappy during the night while I slept! I hadn't even woken when it happened. When I rolled onto my back, the weight of my sodden nappies pressed warmly against my genitals. I could feel a moist squishy lump jammed between my cheeks. I realised that more and more often my nappies were wet and I didn't remember peeing. Also whenever I had to do a poo-poo, I found it very easy to just let go in my nappies with little or no effort at all. Plus I was waking up almost every morning with messy nappies. Was I actually losing my toilet-training? I wasn't so sure I wouldn't need potty-training again for real! I hadn't yet mentioned anything to Mummy or Daddy about my concerns, but I was considering it.

Strolling into our Nursery in her pink satin robe, Mummy sniffed the air knowingly. "Some little girl has made stinky poopies in her nappies! And I think I know who the stinker is!" She strode directly towards me and unlocked and lowered the side rail of my crib with a clatter. She demanded with a mournful frown, 'Baby Jennie? I thought Mummy asked you to try and hold it last night?" She unsnapped the crotch of my pink onesie and ordered me to roll over. Mummy disdainfully prodded my bulging panty bottom and when she confirmed that I was indeed 'the stinker,' she asked me, “Is there anything you want to tell Mummy, Baby Jennie?” All the while her broad palm firmly smacked my dirty bottom through the tautly-stretched pink plastic panties, each crisp spank mashing my poopy package a little more over my messy rear.

With some sniffling and a few tears, I confessed to her that I feared I was losing my toilet-training. "I couldn't help it, Mummy," I wailed. "I wath athleep and the poo-pooth jutht came out. It wathn't my fault," I tearfully protested, as she rolled me onto my back.

"Well, well, well! I never imagined that we might have to toilet-train both you and Angie for real! Maybe putting my little pants-wetter back in nappies wasn't such a good idea after all. Fortunately, we've started your potty-training period - so let's hope everything works out. Now we'd better get my stinky baby girl out of that yucky poopy nappy straight away, Baby Jennie! Lift that bot-bot for Mummy, sweetie." She removed my pink onesie and then carried me over to the change table. I lay on my back and she made me lift my botty again so she could tug down my glistening pink plastic panties. Mummy checked the leg elastics for poo-poo stains, and we were both pleased to find the leg bands of my baby panties were free of dirty brown marks.

"Pooh, baby!" Mummy complained, as she peeled down the front of my sticky wet nappy. "Oh yuck-spuck! You stink, little miss poo-poo pants!" There was stinky brown filth stuck to me everywhere down there. It took her several minutes to wipe away most of the mess with the saturated front of my nappy. She used the soggy disposable soaker pad to scour between my soiled cheeks too, then gingerly folded it and stuffed the shitty item in a scented nappy sack. "Gosh, Baby Jennie! This nappy is full of poo-poos. You are an absolute poo-poo factory, little girl!"
"Baby Jennie's a poo-poo factory, Baby Jennie's a poo-poo factory," my superior little sister chanted in a mocking sing-song tone, drawing a snort of barely-suppressed laughter from Mummy.

Her smile vanished and she frowned in annoyance when she slid the offensive cloth nappies from under my raised rear. She wrinkled her nose in disgust and demanded, "Why didn't you do your jobbies on the potty for Mummy last night like a good girl? Hmm?" I didn’t respond. After rinsing them in the en-suite bathroom, my soiled nappies were dropped into my very own huge, pastel-pink diaper pail - with my name clearly and humiliatingly stenciled on the front. 'Baby Jennie's dirty nappies,' it proclaimed in bright pink lettering for the entire world to see.

Mummy lifted me down and I stood there naked, wobbling in confusion while she hoisted Angie onto the table and removed her damp night nappy, too. After setting my nude sister on her feet, Mummy took our hands and led us into the bathroom where our potties were waiting side-by-side. In moments I was buckled into my pink potty-chair and Angie was fastened to her yellow one. Mummy urged us in treacle tones; "Try and do your business on your potties, girls. Go on, try hard for Mummy. Do big wee-wees and poo-poos in your potty for Mummy, okay?"

She hovered over us waiting expectantly, and gave a cry of delight when we all heard Angie's bladder noisily emptying into her plastic commode. "Oh good girl, Angelica! Such a good, grown-up girl for Mummy!" My sister beamed in pleasure when Mummy soundly praised her for using her potty like a big girl.

Probably because I had drenched my nappy so heavily during the night, I felt no need to empty my bladder this morning. Although I felt reasonably sure my bowels weren't completely empty, there was no overpowering urgency to do a poo, either. Apart from which, the thought of straining to void my bowels while Mummy watched me perform was too humiliating to currently contemplate. As a result, my potty remained unblemished when our mother eventually unbuckled us. Although she was full of praise for my sister, her expression was sceptical when she inspected my empty potty. Mummy made me stand and bend right over next to my potty chair so she could scrub my bum cheeks with a warm soapy washer, and she wiped right inside my crease several times to make sure she got everything.

Angie danced naked into the Nursery ahead of us, babbling about the shorts and top she wanted to wear today. Our mother smiled indulgently at my sister while she laid out the clothes Miss Bossy-boots wanted us to wear. I wasn’t surprised when she selected an identical outfit for me. After powdering and diapering my freshly-scrubbed bottom on the change table, a pair of frilly pastel-pink baby panties was drawn snugly over the top. Mummy then dressed me in some stretchy hot-pink terrycloth shorts that tightly hugged my loins, clearly outlining my bulky nappies and frilly panty bottom for everyone to see. You could even see the heads of my nappy pins poking through, the shorts were so tight. This was followed by a cute pale-pink sleeveless top with 'Mummy's Diapered Angel' printed in children's blocks across the breast. The shoulder straps had a dainty matching pink lace edging that continued around the low round neckline, which looked very pretty.

After Mummy tied my pink sandshoes on my feet, I helped her diaper and then dress my sister in her bright pink shorts and a tank-top that matched mine, except hers said; ‘Princess.’ Angie wore her frilly anklet socks and pink sneakers, too, so we looked like twin sisters again. We shuffled downstairs and into the sunroom clutching our life-size baby dollies while Mummy showered and changed. A short time later, she called us into the kitchen for breakfast. Mummy was wearing a neat pale-yellow blouse and a pair of brief khaki shorts that showed off most of her long brown legs, and plain white sneakers without socks. Red lipstick was the only cosmetic she used, but with her long blonde hair brushed back in a high neat ponytail, she looked clean, fresh and attractive.

During breakfast Mummy reminded us of our impending potty-training routine. "After breakfast, you will both be seated on your potty-chairs downstairs for at least ten to fifteen minutes, as well as after each and every meal. Mummy will also put you on the potty in the Nursery bathroom when you first wake up in the morning, too, and after your naps from now on. You may also ask for permission to sit on your potty-chairs whenever you think you feel the need. You will be allowed off your potty-chairs early, girls - if you have done 'your business.' That is, if you can do wee-wees or poo-poos in your potties like big girls."

She gazed into my big blue eyes as she spooned another mouthful of porridge between my messy lips, locking eyes with mine to make sure I clearly understood. "During the day, we will keep the potty-chairs ready in the bathroom downstairs, so you can get used to the idea of peeing and pooping in there. Unless Daddy or I need to use the bathroom, of course. Then we'll put the potty-chairs in the hallway, just outside the bathroom door. Okay?" She wiped my face and hands with a warm soapy washer, and then attended to Angie's relatively clean face. It wasn't until after she removed my dirty pink bibbie and tossed it on the bench, that I noticed the humiliating message read; 'Little Miss Poo-Poo Pants!'

After wiping clean and removing my highchair tray, Mummy unstrapped me and lifted me down. "If you can go three days without wetting or messing your nappies, you will be allowed to wear 'big-girl' training panties. Is that clear, girls? I'm sure you don't want to wear nappies any more, like little babies do." Mummy eyed us both carefully to make sure we clearly understood how our potty-training program was supposed to work, her earnest gaze lingering on my face far longer than necessary, I thought. Although I resented the fact that she was talking down to me like I was a silly three-year-old, I realised her speech was mainly for Angie's benefit. I tried to shrug off my childish indignation.

My sister and I were escorted into the downstairs bathroom, where our potty-chairs were lined up in a row. Mummy pulled down Angie's hot-pink shorts, carefully unfastened a couple of tapes from her dry disposable diaper, and slid it down her legs and away. My smiling sister then eagerly sat down on her yellow potty-chair and waited for me. Mummy pulled down my tight shorts and frilly baby panties and with a grimace of distaste, unpinned one side of my wet nappies and let them flop down around my ankles. "Baby Jennie!" she remonstrated with me; "Naughty baby! Why didn't you tell Mummy you needed to use the potty? Look how wet this nappy is, you naughty girl!"

I patted the front of my pastel-pink tank-top, searching for the dummy that wasn't there as I sulkily poked out my bottom lip. "It wathn't my fault!" I feebly protested. "You were feeding me bweakfatht, Mummy, and I wath wocked in the highchair, an- an-"

Mummy cut me off to scold me. "You should have told Mummy you needed to do a wee-wee anyway, baby, even if you're buckled in your highchair. Telling a grown-up when you feel the need to use the potty is all part of your toilet-training program, little one. Even if you don't think you can make it, I want you to tell Mummy whenever you feel the need to go. Understand, Baby Jennie?" When I didn't immediately respond, she demanded more insistently, "Baby girl? Do you understand what Mummy said?"
"Yeth Mummy," I grumbled in assent.

The honest truth was - I hadn't even realised I'd wet my nappy! I knew I must have done a wee-wee while Mummy was spoon-feeding me breakfast, but I had no idea exactly when it happened. I felt guilty for lying, and I knew my cheeks were red with shame. To distract Mummy's attention from my tell-tale blushes, I petulantly whined: "I want my dum-dums!"
"Alright darling, alright," she agreed in a more soothing tone, "after Mummy gets you settled on your pot-pot."

With some help from Mummy, I awkwardly plopped my damp botty down over the hole in the low wooden chair and had my limp little clittie tucked safely behind the pink front scoop. Mummy took the pink leather strap from one side, draped it around my waist, threaded the end through a narrow slit in the solid chair back, then pulled it tight and buckled it behind me, out of my sight and surely out of my reach. There was no way for me to escape from my potty-chair without the help of a grown-up. Angie was confined to her smaller yellow chair in much the same way, and then Mummy slipped away into the Nursery.

She returned a few moments later clutching my dummy dangling on its chain, and she kindly popped the nipple into her mouth to wet it with her saliva first. With an indulgent smile for my eagerly-waiting, wide-open mouth, she eased the glistening amber teat between my pink-stained lips until I gratefully began sucking. After clipping the pink plastic chain to the lace-edged neckline of my pink tank-top, Mummy instructed us. “Now do your business on your potties like good little girls! Okay?” With a final encouraging smile, she left us to our own devices.

Since I had already poo-pooed and wee-weed in my nappies during the night, and wet heavily again during breakfast that morning, I had absolutely no reason to use the potty now. All I could do was sit there with my knees bent high in front of my face, since my bottom was sitting so close to the ground. At least I had my dum-dums to suck. I gratefully drew on the slick amber teat, unaware of the loud babyish noises I was making - or Angie's condescending smiles in my direction. Instead I examined my pretty pink fingernails and toenails, amazed that the paint job was still mostly intact after our days of playing in the sandpit. After a few minutes I heard a tinkling sound from my sister's direction as her wee-wees splashed into the yellow plastic potty under her bottom.

Angie's sweet face was glowing with pride when she called for our mother. "Mummy! Mummy, come quick! I made a wee-wee in the pot-pot again, Mummy!"
Mummy dashed back into the bathroom all smiles. "Why that's wonderful, precious! I knew you could do it! See? Good girl! That wasn't so hard now, was it? What a clever big girl you are for Mummy!"

Every joyous word of praise for my sister was an unspoken reproach for my failure to perform. The strap around Angie's waist was unbuckled, and she stood up and squatted slightly so that our beaming mother could gently wipe her damp crotch with toilet tissue, before taping my sister's dry diaper back in place. After her hot-pink shorts had been pulled up over her plastic panties, Angie asked if she could sit on her potty chair beside me till I did my wee-wees.

"Wait a minute sweetie," Mummy lovingly cooed, but her expression soured when her face turned to me. "At least part of our potty-training plan seems to be working, don't you think, Baby Jennie?" Mummy inquired, her voice dripping sarcasm as she emptied my sister's potty into the grown-up's toilet. She rinsed out the plastic commode in the vanity basin and gave it a wipe with a hand towel, then slid the yellow potty on the tiles under the seat beside me for my sister to sit on.

"Yeth Mummy," I was humbly forced to admit. Certainly, Angie appeared more willing than ever now to sit on her potty-chair. And now she had succeeded in using the potty like a big girl, it truly may have been because I was sitting strapped on my potty right next to her. The unasked question was - who was going to help potty-train me?

After my fifteen minutes were up, Mummy snorted in contempt and unbuckled me from my unsullied potty. Angie stood up and followed us into the Nursery, and watched while Mummy cleaned my smelly loins and bot-bot and powdered me all over. With my fresh nappies pinned on and my frilly baby panties and pink shorts pulled into place, Angie and I waddled outside hand-in-hand into the backyard to play. I was unaware my comforting dummy was still clamped between my lips, and I sucked on the soothing rubber teat without thinking about it. I was carrying my little pink suitcase containing my new Barbies and the doll's clothes Connie had given me, and Angie clutched one of her blonde Barbies and her Skipper doll, too. We both still had to have our shameful toddler harnesses buckled on, and Mummy leashed us to the clothesline pole so we couldn't wander away. Hanging out to dry on the line were about a dozen of my big cloth nappies and several pairs of my feminine frilly plastic panties, flapping noisily in the breeze for any of our neighbours to glimpse.

I was glad that the girls who lived in the house behind ours were still away on holidays. They were good friends of ours, and were always dropping over without notice. I tried not to think about them while Angie and I tried various outfits on our Barbies, with my sister bossily advising me which colours went best together and which colours clashed. I didn't know you weren't supposed to mix gold and silver, but when I defied Angie's advice and dressed my Barbie in a gold lame top with silver pedal-pushers, she did look kind of tarty. I didn't want my beautiful Barbie to look like a cheap slut! I changed my dolly's outfit, aware that to a casual observer, it would look like Angie was the boss of me. Although I had to admit; sometimes it felt that way to me, too.

Shortly before lunch, Angie called out for Mummy, yelling that she wanted to sit on her potty-chair. Mummy rushed out, hurriedly unfastened her toddler harness, and scooted Angelica inside to the downstairs bathroom. Ten minutes later when they returned, she was again showering my sister with praise - although she looked pointedly at me when she loudly stated; "What a good girl you are for Mummy, Angelica, for using your potty like a big girl!" I sucked harder on my dum-dums and wondered if I had managed to stay dry. With so much bulky padding between my legs, it was kind of hard for me to tell. When I felt certain Mummy wasn't watching, I reached down and pressed the front of my baby panties firmly against my groin. Although my nappies felt warm on the inside, I wasn't sure if I was wet. But I felt comfortable and safe, warm and secure - so I relaxed, and happily returned to playing with my Barbies.

When Mummy unbuckled our toddler harnesses around midday, it was to shoo us inside for lunch. She followed close behind, and I didn't see her frown when she observed my tell-tale, wide-legged waddling gait. When she lifted me into the air and plonked me into my highchair, my damp plastic panties made that distinct 'splat' sound, so familiar to all mothers with wet diapered babies.

"That nappy sounds very wet, Baby Jennie," Mummy chided me, frowning in annoyance as she plucked out my dummy. She buckled me in with the crotch and waist belts, and then inserted the heavy pink tray. It slid into position until the spring bolts noisily locked into place, and then Mummy fastened the same blue bibbie around my neck I'd worn at breakfast. "I hope wee-wee is all I find in that nappy, Little Miss Poo-poo Pants," she commented disdainfully.

Angie and Mummy ate Hawaian sandwiches - grilled ham, cheese, and pineapple sandwiches for lunch, which looked and smelled absolutely yummy. I was fed two jars of bland beige baby food, and Mummy's irritation showed in the way she brusquely spoon-fed me. She talked down to me and treated me like I was an incompetent toddler the entire time, and then roughly scoured my messy face clean with my embarrassing blue bibbie afterwards.

"Stop sooking, Little Miss Poo-poo Pants!" she scolded me when I dared complain. She gripped the back of my head so I couldn't wrench my face away and scrubbed even harder. "Stay still! Mummy has to clean up that dirty face before you have your bottle. Baby Jennie is such a messy eater!" Angie drained her sippy-cup of warm milk before I had even finished half my huge pink baby bottle. Mummy let my sister out of her booster seat while I remained bound in my humiliating highchair. "Come with Mummy, darling," she lovingly cooed to Angie. "You can help Mummy carry your potties upstairs like a big girl."

Mummy returned a couple of minutes after I drained my bottle, beaming in delight at her daughter's willing attitude. After scrubbing my messy face and hands clean one more time with a warm soapy washcloth, Mummy removed my shameful blue bibbie and replaced my dum-dums, clipping the chain to the collar of my pastel-pink top. She released me from the white leather restraints and lifted me down, then called for my sister to join us. Mummy took us upstairs to the Nursery en-suite bathroom for our post-meal, pre-nap potty-break.

Angie was still dry when Mummy removed her disposable diaper, which earned her another round of ringing praise. But when Mummy pulled down my hot-pink shorts and pink plastic panties, she was dismayed to discover that my nappies were saturated again. She frowned down severely at me, clucking her tongue in irritation. My cheeks grew warm with mortification and my face crumpled when Mummy demanded, "Baby girl? What did Mummy tell you about asking for the potty, Baby Jennie?"

I felt the blush creep around to my neck as I dismally replied from around my dum-dums, "You thaid I had to tell you when I needed to do a wee-wee. But I didn't, Mummy! I didn't need to do wee-weeth," I childishly protested, despite the smelly evidence to the contrary. I was unable to keep the sulky whining tone out of my girlish, high-pitched voice. I could offer no reasonable explanation and since I was pretty well 'peed out,' again I couldn’t produce a thing while dismally seated on my potty.

Within a few minutes Angie managed to produce a noisy trickle of wee-wees. Accompanied by a few red-faced grunts, she then squeezed out some small, dark brown turds. This effort earned her more lavish praise from Mummy, before she let my sister stand up to wipe her front bottom. Then our mother made Angelica bend over right next to me, her bum facing me, so she could wipe her dirty bottom clean. I watched from mere inches away, sucking intently on the soothing amber teat of my pacifier, hoping the wide plastic guard covered my sulky grimace. Mummy wiped my sister's tiny pinky-brown hole again and again with folded sheets of toilet paper, until the white tissue came away clean. After Angie's dry diaper had been taped in place with the re-sealable tabs, she scampered towards her bed.

When my time was up, Mummy released me with a sigh of annoyance. She snatched my hand and led me shuffling awkwardly into the Nursery with my damp plastic panties and pink shorts snagged around my ankles. I clumsily clambered up onto the changing table with her help (I certainly didn't have to be told what to do any longer,) where I was swiftly cleaned and powdered. My little clittie remained mercifully flaccid under Mummy's unforgiving icy glare, even when she briskly rubbed the sweet-smelling talc all over my front. She was coldly silent as she pinned me into some lovely thick fresh nappies, her normally-smooth forehead creased with frown lines.

I chewed on my strangely-soothing dummy teat and watched her sour face warily, knowing she was still cranky with me. Mummy tugged the same pink wetproof panties over my fluffy nappies - the ones with the wide white lace frills across the seat. I poked out my bottom lip in resentment at the cold clammy feel of the damp leg elastics. Because it was so warm, Mummy didn't bother making me wear a onesie to bed. She lifted me into my cot wearing only my pink singlet and my puffy infantile underwear. After being safely locked in with my bottle, my dolly, and my pink teddy, Angie was bundled into her bed, too, and we took our usual afternoon naps.

To be continued in chapter 20.

If you could be bothered reading this far, I'd really appreciate if you would take your hand out of your nappy, clean your handy-pandies, and take two minutes to post a response here. I really crave the feedback!
Hugs from Baby Jennie

Thank you for posting those comments after the last chapter. I really appreciate your thoughts. Sorry for not posting for so long, but I moved house two weeks ago and the internet wasn't connected until today. (Bloody Telstra NBN!)
Synopsis'; Aunty Cath decides to become more involved with Baby Jennie's diaper-discipline and potty-training.

Chapter 20. New Furniture for an Old Baby

I awoke on my back to the unpleasant sensation of having my dummy teat ripped painfully from my mouth. I found the nipple of a fresh baby bottle being forced between my smarting lips in its place. I sucked automatically on the familiar silicon teat and tasted cool fresh water. When I swallowed and opened my sleepy startled eyes, I found Aunty Cath leaning over the high side railing and smirking down at me, her hand wrapped around the end of a huge pink plastic baby bottle. Her long ruby nails were a perfect match for her glossy red lips, which glistened moistly in the golden afternoon glow. Her bemused emerald gaze drifted down over my nappy crotch, bulging wetly beneath my snug pink plastic panties.

"Hold your own bottle for Aunty Cath like a good baby girl, Baby Jennie," she crooned in saccharine baby talk. The bemused smile on her generous painted mouth stretched wider when I clumsily obeyed. "Good baby!” As soon as she was sure I was securely grasping my bottle with both tiny paws, her hand drifted down over my tummy to lightly cup the swollen erection trapped beneath my infantile swaddling. “Ooo, what a wet little baby girl! Aren't you, 'Mummy's Diapered Angel'?" she insisted mockingly, as she crisply patted my bulging crotch. I knew it was true. I had saturated my nappy yet again while I slept - like the helpless baby I truly was. I sucked harder on the nipple of my huge pink bottle in embarrassment, confused when only a tiny trickle managed to leak out.

More cool water squirted down my throat when I chewed on the clear silicon teat and sucked even harder. I gratefully swallowed the few drops I managed to eke out. I didn't realise I was holding a brand-new oversize baby bottle, identical to the one Bonnie had bought me days ago. Aunty hadn't yet enlarged the hole in the nipple, as her youngest daughter had cleverly done. In order to drink from this bottle, I was forced to suck hard and tongue the teat against the roof of my mouth, just to squeeze out enough to slake my thirst - like real baby breastfeeding. When my cruel Aunty heard the loud sucking sounds I was making, she chortled in derision at the look of concentration on my face.

"Oh good girl! Suck hard on your titty-bottle, Baby Jennie," Aunty Cath urged me in condescending baby talk, as her patting hand grew heavier over my throbbing clittie. She squeezed my erect genitals viciously hard through the bulky wet layers, making me gasp in discomfort around the slowly dripping nipple. "Hmph! And I can see you love your warm wet nappies, too! Don't you, baby?" She didn't seem surprised to discover the erection poorly concealed beneath my soggy swaddling. Although she shook her head in disparagement, the strange sardonic smile remained plastered across her beautiful face.

I kept sucking thirstily as I glanced through the pink painted bars, hopefully searching for any sign of Mummy or my sister in the Nursery. We were alone. Angie's bed was empty, and my anxious gaze returned to my cruel Aunty's smirking face. She released her grip on my tumescent tool, stepped on the release lever, and deftly caught the wooden side rail as it dropped. Despite her grim demeanour, she looked gorgeous this afternoon, dressed in a short white denim miniskirt that hugged her tiny waist and her plump curvaceous bottom, and a shimmering low-cut, aqua silk blouse which must have buttoned up the back.

The daring short-sleeved top seemed to change from peacock blue to iridescent green every time Cath moved – or breathed. The gossamer-thin material hugged her proudly-upthrust breasts, especially where the soft flesh bulged to form a deep cleavage above the lace-edged cups of her cheeky red, D-cup bra. Below her mid-thigh white skirt, her long legs looked muscular and tanned, and she was wearing some strappy aqua high-heeled sandals on her dainty feet. Her tiny toenails were painted the same rich ruby shade as her fingernails, looking so pretty peeping out from the vamps of her sandals. Aunty Cath hoisted me onto the change table with disarming ease and lay me on my back, and I sucked harder on the stingy bottle teat when she ripped down my glistening wet plastic panties.

"What a hopeless, wet little baby girl you are!" Aunty Cath snorted disdainfully, as she dumped my frilly baby panties in the nappy bucket. “Those are too wet to use again!” She removed all four pink nappy pins and shoved them in the bar of soap on the narrow shelf overhead. Despite desperately willing it to go down, my throbbing clittie was still mostly hard when my Aunty lowered the drenched front of my nappy. I cringed under her silent evaluating stare. She was rough and uncaring as she wiped away every trace of pee-stained powder from between my thighs, savagely scrubbing my tiny wrinkled sack and my sensitive clittie until they positively shrank in fright. When I squealed in pain and clumsily let the heavy bottle fall against my pink tank top, I was surprised when no water leaked out of the clear silicon teat. Aunty grimaced at my girlish squeals as she lifted me down. When she led me waddling bare-bottomed into the bathroom, I glanced around in befuddlement.

"Where'th Mummy? Where ith Angewica?" I whined like a sulky, overtired toddler, "Why ithn't she being put on the potty after her nap, too?"
"Because your sister woke up before you and climbed out of bed all by herself. Angelica came downstairs and found your Mummy to tell her she needed to use the potty like a big girl. Isn't she clever?" Aunty demanded in a tone laced with irony, as she forced me to shuffle backwards into my low pink seat. "Now you need to sit on your potty and try and do your business for Aunty like a big girl, Baby Jennie. Go on, baby. Sit down and get on with the job." She pushed me back and I fell backwards into the humiliating baby commode. I gave a cry of alarm and dropped my bottle when the low wooden chair almost tipped over backwards.

"Careful, baby girl, careful! What a silly baby!" Aunty Cath chided me for my clumsiness before picking up my pink bottle and handing it to me. "Try and keep hold of your bottle, little girl. Drink up while you try and do your job on the potty." She carefully tucked my flaccid clittie under the front scoop, and I stuck the bottle nipple in my mouth and sucked hard to cover my embarrassment. Only a thin trickle of water rewarded my earnest efforts.

Aunty crouched over me and after looping the restraining belt over my tummy, she reached behind the chair to securely buckle it in place. Even though it was embarrassing, I felt a momentary thrill of pleasure when I heard my wee-wees noisily tinkling into the pink plastic commode, the instant she tightened the seat belt around my bulging tummy. We both heard the distinct sound. "Good girl! Cried Aunty Cath. “What a clever baby girl you are for Aunty, doing your wee-wees in the pot-pot! Good girl!" Aunty Cath almost sounded sincere when she praised me in honeyed toddler tones. "Good girl, Baby Jennie!"

I don't think she realised my bladder was emptying without any conscious control on my behalf. It was as though the muscles controlling my vital sphincters had atrophied from lack of use. I ignored that frightening prospect and clutched my bottle with both hands, tilting the bottom higher in the vain hope that it would make it easier to suck out some water. It was a good thing I didn't realise what a picture of infantile femininity I made at that moment - sitting bound on my pink potty, naked except for the pink ribbons in my pigtails and my embarrassing pink tank top - with the words, 'Mummy's Diapered Angel' inscribed in alphabet blocks across the breast - while suckling desperately from a huge pink baby bottle. I was pleased when after a few minutes of standing over me and watching my cowed performance on the potty, my smirking Aunty Cath left me alone in the bathroom to try and finish my business.

After my fifteen minutes were up, Mummy came to collect me. I failed to produce anything else in my potty by the time she checked. "Oh good girl. Aunty Cath told me you did a wee-wee in the potty for her. Good girl, Baby Jennie," Mummy faintly praised me, as she unbuckled the waist belt and helped me to clumsily stand. I wondered if she realised she was speaking down to me in syrupy baby tones, exactly as though she was talking to my toddler sister. "What a clever girl for going wee-wees on your pot-pot!" She made me stand still while she repeatedly wiped my dripping clittie with a handful of toilet tissue, grimacing and clucking her tongue in irritation when my little tap wouldn't seem to stop leaking. Then she made me turn around and curtly ordered, "Bend right over for Mummy, baby, and stick out that little bot-bot."
"You don't need to wipe back there. I didn't do a poo-poo," I plaintively complained.

She forced me to bend forward at the waist and sternly commanded, “Hold your botty cheeks wide apart with your fingers. Mummy needs to check, anyway.”
"No Mummy, don't! Aww, Mumma!" I whinged and shuffled my feet like a fractious toddler when she repeatedly wiped my sensitive rosebud, despite my whining objections. "No Mummy, don't! I don't want you to!"

The toilet tissue felt rough and coarse compared to the soft moist baby wipes she usually used on my sensitive puffy opening. I tried to move away and stand upright, but Mummy kept me in place by grasping the scruff of my neck with her free hand. "Keep still! Stop complaining, you silly baby," Mummy stiffly warned me, completely misunderstanding my protests. "You don't need to feel embarrassed, Baby Jennie. Toddlers feel no sense of shame or embarrassment when their parents watch them perform on the potty, or when Mummy has to wipe their bits and dirty bot-bots afterwards. So why should you? After all, you look and act like a silly little toddler - so why get upset when we treat you like one? Even if you are a teenager." Even though that wasn't the cause of my complaints, my cheeks began to turn pink with shame when she pointed out how humiliated I should feel needing to be potty-trained and have my bum wiped at my age.

When she was satisfied I was clean front and back, she disposed of the tissues by flushing the toilet. Mummy gripped my hand and led me shuffling into the Nursery. She lifted me onto the change table where some thick fluffy nappies already awaited me. I could tell there was an extra soaker pad stuffed between the cloth layers as usual, due to the added bulk under my rear. As soon as I was heavily powdered all over, she pinned the nappies over my hips so tightly, they almost cut into my tummy. "Lift those footsies and ballerina toesies, baby girl," Mummy ordered, with a grim smile for my swift obedience. She drew a crackling pair of clear plastic panties over my knees and ordered, "Footsies down, and lift that botty for Mummy."

Like the pink rumba panties I wore earlier, these transparent wetproof knickers had three rows of elaborate yellow-and-white lace frills sewn across the seat. "Good girl! Now botty down, and open those little legs wide for Mummy." When the tight elastic leg bands had been safely tucked under the crotch of my thick nappy, Mummy stepped into the walk-in wardrobe. She returned holding up a pretty yellow frock. It was so sheer, I could see all the way though it when she passed in front of the light from the window. "Your Aunty Cath wanted to see you wearing this dress this afternoon, sweetie," she informed me, slipping the filmy frock over my head and threading my limp hands though the short, elastic-cuffed sleeves. "It used to be one of Bonnie's favourites, when she was little - so light and airy on a hot Summer's day."

Mummy slipped my sheer white socks with the yellow lace trim over my daintily-pointed toesies, then produced a pair of white patent Maryjanes that were slightly scuffed over the toes. I knew they had to be one of the many pairs of feminine sandals my cousins had recently given me. "Ballerina toesies," Mummy crooned again, and she smiled contentedly when she eased the gleaming shoes over my stockinged feet and buckled them tightly in place. She exclaimed in delight, "Oh good! They're a perfect fit!"

When she set me on my slippery leather soles, my eyes were drawn as though by a magnet to my feminine reflection in the mirror. The pale-yellow dress was so sheer, you could see my tiny nipples right through the gossamer material. My hands leapt to cover them in embarrassment. My sparkling pink fingernails distracted me momentarily, but then I examined my new dress. The juvenile frock had a low round neckline edged with wide white lace, with matching lacy frills around the flared hem and the short, elastic-cuffed sleeves.

When I twirled around to check the rear, the floaty frock flew up high around my slender waist. I stared over my shoulder, waiting impatiently for the flounced hem to settle so I could see how much of my infantile underwear would be exposed to casual view. The lace edging on the hem softly settled on top of the lowest layer of yellow-and-white lace frills dancing across the seat of my rumba panties, leaving the sagging white crotch of my bulky nappy completely exposed beneath the transparent plastic pilchers, front and back. And I wasn't even wet yet!

Mummy stood behind me and turned me around so that I faced the mirror properly, resting her hands on my narrow shoulders and smiling at our reflection. I plucked at the lace edge of my filmy frock in front, fruitlessly trying to cover my bulging panty crotch.

"You really do make a darling little girl," she complimented me. I couldn't prevent the shy smile drawing apart the corners of my pink-stained lips. But then Mummy's smile vanished like it never existed, and she shook her head ruefully as she reached around and clipped my pink dummy to the wide lacy collar of my yellow toddler frock. "If only you would learn to use the potty and grow up!" My tremulous smile faltered but before I could respond, Mummy took my hand and hauled me out onto the landing. I awkwardly waddled towards the top of the stairs after her.

When my shiny leather soles slipped on the carpet, she jerked me upwards by one arm until I clumsily regained my balance. She sternly cautioned me; "Careful, baby!"
"It'th thethe shoeth! They're too thwippewy!" I shrilly complained.
Mummy frowned down at me in irritation. "Too slippery? Then maybe you'd better bump your way downstairs on your bot-bot, little one - like a real toddler."

I shoved my dum-dums into my sullen mouth to cover my protruding bottom lip. When Mummy led me to the top step, released my hand and paused expectantly, I grumpily flopped onto my heavily padded rear. I let my slippery soles slide down onto the step below. "Go on, baby," she urged me in crooning toddler tones as she waved in indication. It was as though she was encouraging a real baby girl to perform for her Mummy. "Show Mummy how you bump your way downstairs on your bot-bot, all by yourself. That's it. Oh, good girl! That's the way, baby." She continued her stream of syrupy faux-praise as I slid down step by step like a small child on my puffy padded rear, following me all the way to the bottom. "That's it, baby girl. Oh good girl! Who's a clever baby? Hmmm? My Baby Jennie! That's who! Yes she is!"

I felt even more embarrassed when I realised my smirking Aunty Cath had watched the entire humiliating charade from the kitchen doorway. I glared up resentfully at Mummy when she took my hands to help me to clumsily stand, which merely drew a sharp snort of callous laughter from her sister. "Don't you give me any of your filthy looks, little girl!" Mummy tartly reprimanded me. "If you keep behaving like a baby - we'll treat you like a baby. Now come with Mummy, baby girl." I pressed my dum-dums into my mouth with my free fingers to help conceal my sulky expression, and tried to avoid Mummy’s intimidating gaze.

She dragged me by the hand into the kitchen, where Aunty Cath stepped back cradling a fresh mug of tea. "Very pretty!" Aunty announced, as she watched me waddle past with my bottom lip protruding resentfully. "Your cup of tea is on the bench," she said to my mother, indicating the steaming blue mug with a nod of her head. "Your big baby girl looks almost as cute as Bonnie did in that frock - when she was about six years old. I really think yellow is Baby Jennie's colour," she commented with an enigmatic smile. She fluffed out the flounced, lace-edged hem of my floaty new frock over my diapered hips. "Doesn't she look darling?" I was glad my sulky mouth was mostly concealed by the wide pink guard of my dum-dums, and I resentfully sucked harder on the amber rubber teat.
"Yes, she looks very pretty," Mummy responded, in a tone that sounded like she couldn't care less at that moment.

"I'm so glad you two had that little…'chat' yesterday morning. My girls have cupboards full of old clothes I can give you for your special little girl. Where's your bottle, Baby Jennie?" Aunty unexpectedly asked me, and for a moment I couldn't remember. I busily chewed on the rubber teat in my mouth as I concentrated.
"I weft it in the barfwoom upthtairth," I mumbled around my mouth-filling dummy, wondering which 'chat' Aunty was talking about.

"You left it in the bathroom upstairs, did you?” Cath demanded. “Well, you'd better go and fetch it, little girl! You shouldn't leave your baby bottles lying around, child. They might get germs!" Her alarmed tone carried a note of dire warning.
"Yeth Aunty Cath," I responded, trying in vain to keep the surly tone out of my voice. All that did was make me sound like an irritable two-year-old.

"Off you go, baby! And make sure you bump your way back downstairs properly, little girl, like a good baby should. Off you go, quick-sticks!" Aunty Cath encouraged me on my way with a hard swat on my padded posterior, and I squealed like a frightened little girl as I hurriedly waddled away. I clumsily dashed upstairs as fast as my bulky nappies would allow me, wondering fearfully if Mummy had told Aunty Cath about my embarrassing confession on the change table.

I resentfully bumped my way back downstairs like a useless toddler, blushing with shame even though I felt certain no one was watching. I was terrified of disobeying my strict, domineering Aunty Cath. When I shuffled down the hallway clutching my half-full pink baby bottle, I heard my Aunty saying to Mummy, "You don't have to make your mind up now. Harry dumped all the furniture on the street for the council collection this coming Saturday morning, but I had April and Bonnie carry or wheel all the stuff I thought you might need into my garage. You can come and have a look this afternoon, if you'd like?"

Their conversation abruptly halted when my leather soles crisply struck the kitchen's linoleum floor. Both women turned to stare appraisingly at me over the rims of their mugs as I noisily waddled closer. I knew whatever they were discussing probably involved me, and tried not to imagine what new humiliations they had dreamed up for me.

"Give me your bottle, baby," Aunty Cath gruffly ordered. She held out her hand and imperiously curled her fingertips until I meekly handed it to her. "This is the stuff I was telling you about," she said to my mother, picking up a conversation from earlier. After unscrewing the nipple, she stood the huge baby bottle on the counter, and then she opened a white plastic bottle she took from her handbag. She poured about half a nip of the contents into my baby bottle, and the dark green liquid swirled inside the water. Aunty Cath gently shook the baby bottle to mix the contents, until the water turned an even, transparent light-green. She screwed on the pink cap and handed it to me with a sly smile. "There you go, baby girl. Suck it and see."

I spat out my dummy teat, letting it dangle against the filmy bodice of my yellow frock. I frowned in suspicion at my smirking Aunty before I tentatively raised the clear silicon teat to my mouth and tilted the bottle up. I hesitantly sucked on the nipple and was pleasantly surprised to find the water now had a crisp minty taste. I couldn't prevent a tiny smile creeping across my face as I tilted the bottle up and sucked harder. "See?" Aunty Cath turned to my mother, smiling triumphantly, and then continued; "I told you she wouldn't mind the spearmint flavour. The chlorophyll liquid acts like a deodorant, and will reduce the stench of her urine and stool considerably. Just make sure she drinks thirty ml. per day in ten ml. doses, preferably mixed in three different bottles of water." Aunty placed the white plastic bottle of chlorophyll liquid on top of the kitchen bench for Mummy.

"Thanks for that, Cath. I hope it works," my mother replied, but she didn't sound particularly confident.
"Wait till tomorrow. I'm telling you; her pee-pee won't smell at all by then." I plucked the bottle nipple from my lips and winced away in fright when Aunty Cath loomed over me, but she merely intended clipping a clean bibbie around my neck. "Stop cringing, you big sissy cry-baby," she sternly chided me. I clutched my bottle and glanced up at my domineering Aunty, pouting resentfully at the disgust in her tone. She turned back to my mother to add, "The only drawback is that the chlorophyll liquid tends to stain. It's not too bad when it's watered down; like now. But I would make your messy baby girl wear a bibbie whenever she has a green bottle, nonetheless."

After snapping home the two chromed fasteners behind my neck, she stepped around to face me. With uncharacteristic kindness, Aunty Cath unclipped my dummy chain from the white lace collar of my filmy yellow frock. Smiling broadly, she reattached it to the similar wide lace edging the collar of my pale-yellow bibbie. As soon as she stepped back, I pressed the heavy bottle against my body with one arm and with my free hand, grabbed the delicate white lace sewn around the bottom of my bibbie. I tilted it up so I could read upside-down the embarrassing words I knew had to be embroidered there. The message proudly proclaimed in shimmering golden thread; 'I'm a sissy pissy cry-baby!' My cheeks turned crimson with shame, and I tried in vain to suck back the humiliating tears that welled unbidden in my rapidly-blinking blue eyes.

Cath's emerald eyes narrowed when she saw my eyes glistening and my long lashes fluttering, and her sensuous upper lip curled in contempt when I sniffled loudly. "Aww! That's right! You're a big, sissy pissy cry-baby, aren't you Baby Jennie? I wonder if you're wet already? Are you, baby? Is your nap-nap wet yet, diddums?" Aunty teased me in condescending, saccharine toddler tones.

"You told me her nappy was drenched again after you got her up from her nap, didn't you?" Mummy asked her sneering big sister.
"Yes, I found her curled up in her crib sucking her dum-dums, wet through!" Cath turned her disdainful gaze on my cringing form before demanding curtly; "Weren't you, baby girl? Tell Mummy," she sternly commanded.

"I- I- I wet my nappy, Mummy," I admitted shamefacedly, before childishly attempting to excuse my infantile behaviour. "But it happened when I wath athleep. I'th not my fault! I wath althleep, Mummy!" I protested, whining like a cranky two-year-old. My frowning Aunty crouched in front of me and slipped her fingers inside one leg hole of my tight-fitting baby panties to check my nappy crotch. I sniffed loudly as a single unstoppable tear trickled down my bright red cheek, and I snivelled resentfully, "Honetht! I wath athleep, Mummy! I couldn't help it!"

"Such a sissy pissy cry-baby," Aunty Cath spitefully criticised me. "My, my! Her nappy is still dry!" she commented in wide-eyed surprise to Mummy. She removed her probing fingers and rubbed the dry tips together and sniffed them, as if she couldn't believe her eyes.
"I only got her off the potty a few minutes ago, remember?" Mummy reminded her, "She managed to do a wee-wee in her pot-pot for Mummy at last."
"Even so, I doubt that she'll stay dry very long, Isabell," Aunty Cath cruelly predicted. "You know what a hopeless little panty-wetter she's always been."

Tears of shame began to trickle down my blazing hot cheeks and I sniffed heavily to prevent my nose from running. My callous Aunty turned to me with a frown marring her beautiful features. "Oh stop all that sooking and snivelling, Baby Jennie! You're such a sissy cry-baby! Go and play with your sister in the sunroom, little girl."
"Make sure you call one of us if you need the potty, baby," Mummy sternly reminded me.
"And make sure you finish that bottle before I come and check that nappy again, you little sook! Go on, you sooky little cry-baby! Leave the grown-ups to chat. Off you go!" Aunty Cath's broad palm was startlingly loud when it connected with the puffy seat of my thick rumba panties. I clutched my sloshing bottle and danced away from her in terror, brushing away the shameful tears from my burning red cheeks.

Angie was preoccupied watching TV when I waddled into the sunroom. She barely gave my tear-streaked face a second's glance before her disinterested, cornflower-blue eyes returned to the flickering screen. Rather than sit beside her, I stood behind her off to one side, and started sucking on the teat of my baby bottle. It took a real effort to draw out a decent mouthful of green water - but I was thirsty, and I sucked harder and swallowed as I blinked away the tears. When Angie seemed oblivious to my presence, I sidled closer to the doorway to the kitchen and tried to linger within earshot of the grown-ups. I felt certain Mummy and Aunty had been talking about me when I returned with my baby bottle, and I was curious to hear what my Aunty had to say. I tried to quietly slurp the spearmint-tinged water from the stingy nipple as I listened intently to their conversation.

"Oh Isabell!" Aunty Cath sounded exasperated, a common event for her. "You must remember them," she insisted forcefully. I heard my mother loudly sigh at her big sister's crude coercive tactics. "You've met them. They lived directly across the road from me for more than ten years, after all. An older couple - Harry and June - with their sixteen-year-old retarded daughter. She had cerebral palsy, and spina bifida, too, I think - plus a raft of other medical problems. The doctors never expected her to make it to puberty, but I'm sure she turned sixteen before she died. Although she was no bigger that your average twelve-year-old."
"Did they move her about in some kind of pink wheelchair?" Mummy asked, sounding uncertain. I could tell from her tone she was struggling to remember.
"Yes, that's right! Although it was more like an oversized toddler's stroller, with suitable child-restraints and everything. I know! You met them last Summer, when you were leaving my place with the kids one Saturday afternoon. The Andersons were wheeling Candy inside after a trip to the park."
"Oh yes, that's right! I remember. The poor thing," Mummy sympathised.

My callous Aunty snorted dismissively. "Poor parents, more like it! The child is dead and buried, but her death tore their marriage apart. The wife has left for parts unknown, and the husband… He's a drunken wreck! I found him reeking of booze first thing in the morning, hauling all this stuff out onto the street. When I asked Harry what was going on, he told me they'd sold the house and she was divorcing him. He was getting rid of everything and moving interstate. 'Too many bad memories,' he told me."
"How tragic," Mummy murmured sympathetically.

"Yes, well. Every black cloud has a silver lining, as they say. His misfortune is your good fortune," Aunty Cath parroted philosophically. "The main thing is; he was throwing away a whole lot of solid-steel furniture designed for an incontinent, adolescent invalid who needed to be safely restrained - including a highchair, that pink stroller you saw, and an almost-new, bigger crib. He even had a playpen for her!"
"A playpen?" Mummy repeated incredulously. I imagined her delicately-plucked eyebrows were soaring up her forehead, as were mine.

"Yes, a huge playpen made from stainless steel bars, but it's painted pink, too. It has a wet-proof padded floor, and was designed to keep her safely confined," Aunty Cath continued, in a tone that brooked no argument. "Candy could crawl around some, and even stand and walk for brief moments unassisted, so Harry had to make sure she couldn't get into mischief when they needed to leave her alone for short periods of time. Wait till you see the furniture," she chortled richly. "Poor Candice - the dead child - was a little retarded for her age. She was a huge fan of Disney cartoons, so everything is painted pastel-pink, with darling Disney Princess decals all over it. I'm sure your little sissy fairy will just love it!"

The following prolonged silence indicated my mother didn't necessarily agree with her big sister's interpretation of the facts. After an interminable time, Mummy ventured, "Maybe Baby Jennie will be potty-trained by this weekend as we planned, and we won't need all that st-"
"I don't think so," Aunty Cath abruptly interrupted her younger sister in her usual forthright manner. "She's always been an effeminate little panty-pissing, sissy cry-baby. I don't think she ever will - or wants to - grow up. And the lockable crib I've got in my garage is big enough to hold her until she's eighteen, if need be."
"What if I can't get her potty-trained?" Mummy muttered, sounding close to despair. I tried to blink back the tears of shame that suddenly filled my eyes to overflowing.

"You just hand Baby Jennie over to me. Three days," my Aunty promised. Her confidence terrified me. "You give that sissy pissy cry-baby to me for three days and nights, and I guarantee you - I'll send her home properly toilet-trained!" I heard the crisp click-clack of Aunty's high heels approaching the doorway, and I frantically waddled over to sit beside my sister.

When I plonked down onto my padded bot-bot knuckling away the tears, I realised my nappy was already a little moist between my legs, and the delightful humid warmth pressing against my clittie only stimulated my unreliable bladder to unleash once more. The soothing warm flow trickled out of me as I discretely rocked backwards and forwards on my comforting damp nappy, trying to ignore our overbearing Aunty as she poked her head around the doorway to check on my sister and me. I urgently thrust the clear teat between my pursed pink lips, tilted my baby bottle up high and sucked hard, chewing on the stingy nipple to eke out more water. I kept my blurry eyes averted from Aunty's gaze, swallowing the scant trickle though a throat thick and tight with shame. I knew I should have called out and asked Mummy to put me on the potty, but it was already too late - and I didn't want my strict Aunty Cath any more involved in my toilet-training regime than she was already.

I heard Aunty's high heels click-clacking away from the doorway and back into the kitchen. When I caught the distant murmur of their conversation resuming, I sighed with relief. I focused on drawing a thin stream of green minty water out of the narrow teat, careless of the delightful warm stream that simultaneously trickled out of my limp clittie. Angie was watching another episode of 'The Pony Club,' and I enjoyed watching the second episode with her. It almost came as a surprise when I heard the sound of air being sucked back through the nipple's tiny hole after I finally drained my huge bottle.

I was relieved I had finished it when Aunty strode into the sunroom and stopped in front of me. "Good girl," she murmured with a thin-lipped smile of approval. She crouched down right in front of me, snatching the empty pink bottle from my grasp and placing it aside on the carpet. Her short white denim skirt slid up her plump womanly thighs, and I caught a tantalising glimpse of her shiny red panty crotch before I timidly lowered my gaze. Aunty Cath wiped my damp lips and chin with my frilly bib, and grimaced at the trickle of clear snot that had oozed unnoticed down towards my top lip.

She wrapped the damp bibbie around my nose and ordered, "Close your mouth tight and blow, baby." I reflexively blew out hard through my nose, and felt a mass of warm snot spray from my flared nostrils. Aunty Cath carefully wiped my dripping beak and scraped off some slime from above my top lip, then let the dirty yellow bibbie drop to my chest with a condescending smile. "Lift up your dress hem high for Aunty, sweetheart."

I obeyed her softly-spoken commands automatically. Aunty Cath drew aside the tight elastic waistband of my transparent plastic baby panties, then slipped her fingers inside my humid swaddling. When I dared glance up at her frowning face, I shuddered at the contempt I could see in those brilliant emerald orbs.

"Baby Jennie's wet again!" Aunty Cath announced in a voice pitched loud enough to carry into the kitchen. I cringed at the disgust in her tone, and caught a flash of contempt in my sister's wide blue eyes before she turned back to the flickering screen. Cath loudly demanded, "Do you want me to take care of her this time?"
"Already? How wet is she?" Mummy asked, stepping into the doorway to frown down at me in dismay.
"Not very - not that it makes any difference. You told me she was supposed to come and tell you when she needed to use the potty, even if she didn't make it in time."
"Yes, that's right," my mother slowly agreed, although she didn't sound happy conceding the point.

"Alright then. You let me take care of your naughty baby girl this time," Aunty firmly insisted. "I suggest you take Angelica for a walk outside or something. Give me about an hour…" While she was talking, Cath loosened her silken hair and then gathered her long dark-brown tresses in her fingers. She re-tied them in a tight bun on top of her head, adding to her already-impressive stature. I stared in fascination at her magnificent breasts under her shimmering aqua top as they jiggled and swayed with every brisk movement of her raised arms.

"If you insist," Mummy hesitantly replied. "We could always drive down to the mall for an ice-cream…"
"What a good idea! A suitable reward for someone who is learning to use her potty like a big girl." Strict Aunty Cath had nothing but smiles for her fair-haired niece.

The TV show had just finished, and Angelica clearly heard Mummy's last muttered suggestion. "Oh Mummy! Yes please! Ice-cream, ice-cream, ice-cream," my sister chanted excitedly, but I could only frown despondently at the fate that awaited me. In moments Mummy had collected her handbag and car keys, and she escorted my bubbling sister out the front door without a word or even a backward glance for me.

I watched Aunty's receding back with rising dread when she carried my empty bottle into the kitchen with a purposeful stride. I was surprised when Cath returned a few minutes later clutching my toddler harness and the matching pink leather reins. I didn't see the additional small, pastel-pink, patent-leather straps she clutched in one hand, even when she snapped off the blaring television.

"Hands out in front, little girl, and hold your head up for Aunty." She threaded the pink harness over my obediently-outstretched hands and up my arms, and she fed my pig-tailed head through the appropriate loops. The heavy leather straps settled on my shoulders like the weight of the world. For a few terrifying moments I feared Aunty was going to drag me outside to publicly humiliate me. She crouched behind me and tightened the waist and chest straps over my spine. At least she didn't buckle the crotch strap in place, but instead tucked the dangling pink leather band under the chest strap in front. Cath stepped around to stand in front of me, and she bent forward until her lush breasts almost surged free from her lace-edged red brassiere. I openly gaped at my voluptuous Aunty's deep entrancing cleavage while she tugged my embarrassing stained yellow bibbie out from under the harness straps and smoothed it over my trembling breast.

She made sure my dum-dums was still safely clipped to my bibbie's frilly lace collar before she sternly commanded, "Reach for the stars, baby girl. Hold your hands high above your head for Aunty, Baby Jennie, and keep them still." When I swiftly obeyed, her tone instantly turned cloying. "Good baby girl! That's it, diddums. Show Aunty how you reach for the stars, Baby Jennie." I heard a tiny bell jingle and felt a narrow strap being wrapped around one raised wrist, and then Aunty seemed to be fiddling with a buckle. She repeated the procedure on my other wrist, and I was relieved when she told me I could lower my arms.

I found Aunty had buckled what appeared to be slim, pink patent-leather watch-straps around my slender wrists. They were snug without being too tight, but when I tried to turn my arms around to closely examine the buckles, Cath stopped me with a single raised finger and a sharp warning. "Ah-ah-ah! Leave those alone, little girl!" Her tone softened when she crooned, "Those are your new... 'baby bracelets!' I bought them especially for my naughty big baby girl. Aren't they pretty?"

Mystified as to their purpose, I rotated my hands back and forth to hear the sound of little bells merrily jingling. There was a tiny spherical brass bell attached to each pink strap, which made me think Aunty had buckled some fancy cat collars around my wrists. "Now put those handy-pandies on the floor, Baby Jennie, and show Aunty how you kneel on all fours like a little puppy dog. Go on! Good girl." I meekly followed her saccharine instructions, and then felt her clipping the pink leather reins to the rear D-rings of my toddler harness. The dangling teat of my dummy brushed against the carpet, and I grabbed it before fluff got stuck to it.

Aunty gave a single sharp tug to make sure the reins were well secured, and then dragged me irresistibly in the direction of the hallway. "Come on, baby girl," she urged me in condescending baby talk. "Come on, diddums! Crawl for Aunty. You can crawl from now on, like the silly little baby you've been behaving. Come on!" I helplessly followed the insistent pull of the reins, shuffling along after her across the carpet on my hands and knees like a clumsy six-month-old, making the little bells at my wrists jingle attractively. I whimpered abjectly around the dummy that somehow found its way back into my mouth.

"Baby won't learn," Cath muttered irritably, but it sounded like she was talking mostly to herself, "so Aunty will have to teach her a harsh lesson." I hesitated at the first carpeted step and dared to look up inquiringly at her. Another sharp yank on the reins dispelled any illusions I might have harboured of being allowed to stand. Her beautiful face was a mask of disapproval, her full sensuous lips pursed into a thin red line and her emerald eyes flashing in warning.

"No, baby girl," Aunty Cath scolded me in answer to my unspoken request. "You keep crawling up those stairs. You were supposed to tell Mummy or me when you needed to go potty. Weren't you, Baby Jennie? You want to act like a silly, spoiled, sissy pissy cry-baby? Well, Aunty will treat you like one. Get upstairs!" She practically dragged me up the steps by the reins. I clumsily scrambled behind her on all fours, jingling like Santa's sleigh. I was momentarily thankful my floaty yellow frock was so short, the lace-edged hem didn't catch under my knees and make me painfully face-plant in the carpet. I was so terrified as I awkwardly followed her, I began to uncontrollably soil myself!

"Oh no! No, no, Aunty!" I squealed in alarm, hot poo squirting into my warm wet nappy as I crawled onto the landing. "No Aunty! Poo-poo! Poo-pooth!" I wailed in distress, my speech temporarily lapsing into infantile blabbering when I realised I was helplessly wetting again, as well.

"What was that?" Aunty froze in mid-stride, and then she whirled around to tower menacingly over my prostrate form. "What?" Aunty Cath stridently demanded again, as she gathered the reins in one fist. I could feel her hovering over me like a ravenous vulture, and kept my guilt-ridden face turned away from her furious glare.

"Poo-pooth! Wee-weeth!" I sobbed too late, "I need to do poo-pooth! I need my potty!" She loudly sniffed the air above my bottom, then; SMACK! I shrieked like a terrified toddler when her hard hand came crashing down on my unreliable back door.

"I don't think so!" Aunty stormed in fury. "I think it's a little too late for that, baby girl!" Even as the next solid log tried to slide out of my tender opening, her broad palm loudly connected with the ruffled seat of my thick baby panties. SMACK! I gasped in shock as the emerging firm turd was slammed mostly back inside my straining poo-poo hole. SMACK! I squealed like a frightened schoolgirl and tried to crawl away, as far the reins would permit.

Aunty kept the leather reins curled tightly in her fist and pursued me, yelling, "Get into the Nursery!" SMACK! SMACK! "Go on! You dirty, bad little baby girl! Go on!" SMACK! SMACK! She spanked my bobbing bottom with such force, it hurt even through the many wet layers protecting me. SMACK! SMACK! "Keep going, Baby Jennie! Crawl straight though into the bathroom, you vile child!" SMACK! SMACK! I didn't see her collect the punishment paddle from the diaper bag, lying open beside the pink padded change table, but I felt the difference when it came slamming down on my dirty wet bottom. CRACK!

I squealed in real pain and crawled even faster. As soon as I scrambled onto the cold bathroom tiles, Aunty Cath unclipped the pink leather reins and tossed them back into the Nursery. She placed the wooden paddle aside on the bench seat and forced me to roll onto my back. I lay there snivelling pathetically and whimpering in fear. Aunty Cath knelt between my widespread feet and ordered sharply, "Shut up! I'll give you something to really cry about in a minute, you dirty, bad little baby girl!" Aunty unbuckled my white patent Maryjanes and removed them and my frilly anklet socks. She shoved the yellow lace-trimmed socks inside the shiny shoes, before pushing them out of the way under the vanity bench seat. She tucked the lace-edged front hem of my floaty yellow frock under the lower strap of my toddler harness in front, and then grabbed my right hand. The bell jingled gaily as she pressed my slender forearm against the D-ring on the chest strap, and in a trice, my right wrist was inexplicably bound to my toddler harness.

While Aunty grabbed my other hand and held it to my breast, I turned my head to stare in confusion at my trapped right wrist. I saw a tiny metal clip attached to the thin pink patent strap buckled around my forearm, which Aunty had clipped to the D-ring over my right nipple. Before I knew it, my jingling left wrist had been similarly shackled to the matching D-ring on the other side of my toddler harness. When I tried to wrench my arms free, I found the delicate patent-leather bands and the strong steel clips were unbreakable.

With a shark-like smile for my frustrated bell-ringing efforts, my cruel captor commented in evident satisfaction; "There! That will keep those naughty handy-pandies out of the way! Won't it, Baby Jennie?" She didn't seem to expect a reply, and I simply sucked harder on my dum-dums when she ordered me to lift my bottom. As soon as my hips were thrust high in the air, she reached under me to tuck the lace-edged back of my floaty yellow frock under the rear of my harness, safely out of harm's way. "That's the way! Good girl! Now botty down, baby," she commanded in syrupy tones, exactly as though she was talking to a real toddler girl.

When my puffy padded rear settled onto the tiles, Aunty Cath forced my bent knees even wider apart. "Lift those little footsies in the air for Aunty, bubby," she cooed, her mocking tone making me cringe even as I hurriedly obeyed. "Knees back, and toesies right up high, baby," she urged in that condescending saccharine tone. When she was satisfied, she reached down and placed her hand right over the big squishy lump bulging out the rear of my baby panties. "That's it, diddums. What a precious, big sissy baby girl!"

The heel of her hand rested over my nappy near the base of my spine, where the messy lump started. As she pressed down, she rolled her open palm forward towards my warm wet genitals, forcing the sticky mess to mash towards my balls and clittie. "Ooo, I can feel a big squishy lump in your nappy, little girl!" Cath chuckled, but she didn't really sound amused. She demanded in that sickly-sweet voice; "Is it all lovely and warm and squishy in there, Baby Jennie? Is it, diddums?" She poked and prodded the hot fresh turds trapped inside my warm wet nappy, mashing them moistly around my sensitive clittie until it naturally began to swell.

"Does that feel nice?” Cath crooned. “All that hot squishy poo-poos in our nap-naps?" My guilty blushes intensified when she moved her hand to cover my thickening clittie, and she commented with a cruel knowing smile; "I bet it does! I think my naughty baby girl enjoys doing big wetties and poo-poos in her nap-naps. Don't you, Baby Jennie?" How did she know?

Her hand continued crisply patting the swelling hardness she could detect bulging out the front of my dirty wet nappy, and I ducked my teary eyes away from Aunty's self-assured leer. I sucked harder on my dummy teat and refused to answer. "Don't you, baby girl? Hmm?" She sounded supremely confident when she murmured, "I'm sure you do." Her tone turned more cloying when she crooned, "I'm sure my sissy pissy cry-baby just loves it! Wiggle those widdle footsies about in the air for me like a happy baby, little girl. Go on! Show Aunty how much you love the feel of your poopy wet nappy."

Too terrified to disobey her, I waggled my bare feet in the air, kicking and thrashing my pink-painted toesies in a poor imitation of a contented baby. She continued crisply patting the bulging crotch of my noisy wet plastic panties, the loud swats growing heavier and harder.

My trapped hands thrashed uselessly in front of my bosom all the while, making me feel even more helpless. Despite the terrifying circumstances, my thickening clittie swelled even more under her swatting cupped palm, until it visibly tented out the front of my filthy wet nappy. "Ooo! Look! Who's a happy poopy baby? Hmmm? Look how much you love your dirty wet nap-naps!" Aunty Cath laughed as she ruthlessly squeezed my sensitive stiffie through the pissy wet cloth. It was a cruel sadistic sound. Finally she decided; "That's enough playtime, little one. Footsies down flat on the floor, Baby Jennie. Now lift that botty, baby." She ripped down my snug plastic panties with such force, my stinky wet nappy was almost pulled down at the same time. Thank goodness Mummy had pinned it so tightly!

"Bot-bot down now, baby." Aunty left my crackling baby panties bunched around my ankles, and as soon as my messy botty dropped to the tiles, she loosened the pink plastic, child-proof caps, and unsnapped the huge steel nappy pins. "What a dirty little girl," she muttered crankily, placing the four pins aside on the vanity bench. "Your mother thinks treating you like a silly baby will cure you of your bedwetting and pants-wetting. And believe me, Baby Jennie, if you don't smarten up - I have some special furniture put aside for her that will ensure you'll always be kept bound and helpless, like a true infant - safely under control or under Mummy's watchful eyes the whole time. Is that what you want?"

Cath peeled away the yellowed front of my sticky nappy before I could respond, frowning down at my turgid excitement - before she was forced to turn her face away from the stench that was unleashed. "Pooh!" she cried in disgust, "Oh you dirty, disgusting little girl! Look at all that mess!" My thickening clittie was brown-stained and creeping up my tummy with excitement, no matter how hard I willed it to go down. She let the soggy nappy front plop wetly to the floor between my splayed thighs, and then leaned over my cowering form to open one of the vanity drawers. "I think Aunty is going to need some gloves for this," she commented frostily, slipping on a pair of the thin latex gloves from the cardboard box in the drawer.

Cath ignored my swelling erection for the moment and removed the damp soaker pad. She taped it shut before tossing the sodden disposable diaper in the bin under the vanity. I lay back and watched her through tear-blurred eyes, rapidly batting my long black lashes to clear my vision. She was extremely careful when she used my dirty wet nappy to collect most of the sticky waste from around my groin, although she didn't bother cleaning my stiff little tool. Then she gathered my ankles in one hand, thrust them high in the air, and folded my body in half, until the tip of my shit-coated stiffie bobbed millimetres away from the pink plastic guard of my dum-dums.

Aunty Cath kept my toesies forcibly pressed behind my head as she scraped away the worst of the solid brown mess trapped between my buttocks. Then she rolled me even further back onto my shoulders so she could tug the stinky cloth nappies out from under the small of my back. When she let my feet drop, she simultaneously slid my rustling panties up to my knees. I was surprised to find a damp but unstained section of my nappy still underneath my botty, but then she instructed in an enticing sing-song voice; "Footsies down, and lift that bot-bot high for Aunty, Baby Jennie."

Despite the baby panties trapped around my knees, I carefully planted my bare feet on the cold tiles either side of my filthy nappy, and clumsily obeyed her crooned commands. My waggling pink fingernails danced uselessly under my chin as I struggled to maintain my balance. Aunty Cath slid the soiled diaper from between my legs and carefully moved it aside. "Atta girl! Keep that bot-bot up in the air for Aunty, baby," she sang. I was confused when she dragged my stiff plastic panties back up my splayed thighs and over my messy bottom without wiping me down first. I knew I was still dirty down there - I could feel icky poo-poo sticking to me front and back - and she hadn't even pinned a nappy on me!

While Cath was preoccupied tugging the tight elastic waistband high around my slender waist, I discretely slid my fingers beneath my humiliating lace-edged bibbie and across the snug leather chest strap of my toddler harness, trying to reach the D-rings on the other side. The pink patent cuffs around my wrists were too tight to allow much free movement, and my candy-pink fingernails were too short to reach either the tiny buckle or the steel clip on the opposite wrist. I was trapped! "And bot-bot down, baby," she murmured. I dropped back down, my air-filled panties popping noisily around my tummy, suddenly aware that I was Aunty Cath's helpless prisoner!

Aunty knelt forward and reaching under my bibbie, groped for my harness. She grabbed hold of the wide chest strap between my floundering hands. "Sit up, Baby Jennie." She used the strong leather toddler harness to haul me upright, and I was uncomfortably aware of the sticky mess still staining my botty cheeks and my messy rosebud. I squelched moistly onto my frill-laden bottom, and the baggy plastic panties stuck to my sensitive skin front and back.

"The tight leg elastics on those rumba panties should safely contain any mess while I deal with your naughtiness," she commented with sneering certainty, her beautiful face inches from my own. Cath's lashes were long and darkened with mascara, and I noticed she had pencilled in her delicate arched eyebrows, too. I had to lower my fearful eyes from her unrelenting emerald stare, and then she snorted and released her grip on my toddler harness. "Get on your knees, you bad little girl," she commanded in a harsh no-nonsense tone as she deftly climbed to her feet. I scrambled to obey, moving clumsily because my wrist cuffs were still shackled to the chest strap of my toddler harness.

To be continued in chapter 21.

Please keep posting your comments here. I love to know what my readers think of my naughty sissy-baby story.
Hugs from Baby Jennie

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Synopsis; Aunty Cath takes over the diaper-discipline and potty-training duties concerning Baby Jennie. She decides to punish baby in a manner designed to discourage further nappy-soiling episodes. Caution! This chapter contains B&D and forced scat themes.

Chapter 21. Rubbing Baby's Nose In It

I knelt on the cold white tiles, shivering in fear. Aunty reached behind the bathroom door and took down the long plastic pinafore apron from the hook. Bonnie and Tammy must have left the clear plastic pinnie hanging there after they last finished punishing me. When Aunty Cath looped the white cotton neck strap over her head, I assumed I was going to be draped across her knees this time. My trapped hands fluttered uselessly at my breast as she tightly tied the white cloth sashes behind her slender waist, protecting her shimmering silk blouse and her clean white skirt with a layer of stiff rustling plastic. When my chin dropped, I spied my filthy nappy lying open on the tiles about eighteen inches in front of my knees, and I cringed in shame at the thick load of stinky brown poo-poo collected in the crotch. Despite my embarrassment and trepidation, when I looked down, my swollen, poop-coated clittie was tenting out my baggy baby panties in front, and the dirty brown smears were easily visible though the clear plastic knickers.

Aunty Cath noted the direction of my humiliated gaze, and tut-tutted in annoyance. "My goodness! Look at those dirty, pooey baby panties! And look at all that poo-poo in your nappy!" She sternly commanded, "Look at it!" When I reluctantly lifted my chin and sulkily obeyed, she continued berating me. "Look at that dirty wet nappy! What a dirty little girl! You won't learn, will you?" She made sure her fingers were inserted all the way into the translucent white latex gloves before demanding; "You know what? I think you like pooping in your nappies. I think you love sitting in your filthy waste! Rolling around in it, like a dirty, disgusting little baby! You love poo-poos so much? I'll teach you…" My eyes widened in terror when I saw her pick up the punishment paddle and give the vicious wooden implement a couple of well-rehearsed practice swings to loosen her shoulders. I sucked harder on the fat rubber teat of my dum-dums, which only focused her attention on my comforting baby soother.

"Give that to me!" Cath viciously snatched the huge pink dummy from my mouth by the plastic chain, making me cry out in pain. The clip was simultaneously ripped from the white lace collar of my yellow bibbie. She tossed my pacifier onto the vanity, and my frightened blue eyes anxiously followed its rattling trajectory. I didn't want to lose my dum-dums! The towering brunette yanked out my frilly pink hair bands and hair elastics, making me squeal in pain. My platinum-blonde pigtails fell in disarray over my shivering shoulders.

Aunty Cath stepped out of sight behind my kneeling form, the loud click-clack of her aqua high heels echoing menacingly in the small tiled bathroom. I felt her slip her left hand inside the rear of my chest strap near the buckle, and she curled her fingers around the strong leather band and gave it a few experimental tugs. Satisfied she had a secure grip on my toddler harness, she used the hand holding the paddle to press down on the back of my bowed head.

"Bend over, baby girl," she sternly ordered. I found her calm, collected tone absolutely terrifying. I gasped in horror when Cath used my pink leather harness to force me to bend forward from the waist, my trapped hands thrashing uselessly in front of my bosom in a vain attempt to prevent myself from falling. The dirty pile of poo-poo lay right in front of me, and as I passed the point of overbalance, my horrified face accelerated towards the thick mass of stinky brown excrement gathered in the soggy crotch of my well-used cloth nappy.

"No no!" I squealed in wide-eyed alarm. Aunty's tight grip on the rear of my leather harness fortuitously interrupted my fall. My twitching nose was poised mere millimetres above the glistening recent contents of my bowels. The over-ripe, musty-fruit stench filled my flared nostrils. I inhaled deeply, filling my lungs with the odious vapour so I could piteously shriek, "Pweathe no, Aunty?"
"What is that you can smell, baby?" Aunty Cath ruthlessly demanded. She used her grip at the back of my toddler harness to give my whole body a warning shake when I was too slow to respond. "Well? What can Baby Jennie smell?"

My wrinkled nose waggled a hair's breadth above the noxious brown mess, the tip almost scraping the top of one semi-solid log poking up in the middle. "It'th poo-pooth! Poo-pooth, Aunty! Poo-pooth!" I wailed like a terrified toddler. Tears trickled down my nose to drip wetly onto the pungent pile below.

"Yes baby!" Her sunny tone indicated she thought I was the cleverest baby in the whole wide world. "It's poo-poos!” Cath brightly agreed, before demanding, “And whose poo-poos is it?"
"My poo-pooth! It'th my poo-pooth, Aunty Cath," I sobbed contritely.
"And where did you do your poo-poos, baby girl?" she inquired in that syrupy baby voice.
"In my nappy! I did poo-pooth in my nappy! Poo-pooth!" I hiccupped between sobs, prattling like a petrified pre-schooler.

Cath sounded like she was praising a precocious toddler when she sang, "That's right, baby girl! You did a lovely big poo-poo in your nappy! And what else did you do in your nap-naps, Baby Jennie?" she coaxed, directing my responses.
"Wee-weeth! I did wee-weeth and poo-pooth in my nap-napth," I blubbered like a frightened two-year-old.
"Yes baby, you did lots of lovely warm wetties and big squishy poopies in your nap-naps! Didn't you? Does it smell nice, little girl?"
"No Aunty!"
"No Aunty?" Her sharp tone indicated her disbelief at my wailed reply. I sobbed in shame when she insisted again; "No? But baby? From the frequency with which you've been filling those nappies, I thought you enjoyed the smell and feel of your own waste?"

I wasn't sure if she required an answer, but I dismally responded, anyway. "No Aunty Cath." I hoped she couldn't tell I was lying. I couldn't I tell her how wonderful it felt to have my deliciously sodden nappies wrapped like a warm loving hand around my excitable stiff clittie.
She cruelly mimicked my plaintive high-pitched whimper when she mockingly repeated, "No Aunty Cath!" Her voice grew softer when she insisted in more honeyed tones, "Are you sure? I think you secretly like it, little girl! I think my naughty Baby Jennie secretly loves making lovely hot squishy poo-poos in her pissy-wet nap-naps. Hmmm?"

I wondered fearfully, 'How does she know?' I didn't see her quietly place the paddle aside, but I jumped in shock when she reached down and ran her right palm over the frilly lace rows decorating the transparent seat of my crackling baby panties. Her fingers smoothed the thick plastic below the ruffles into the crease of my trembling buttocks, which parted for her almost by reflex. Without my nappies on, my baby panties were so loose, she could press her stiffened fingertips deeply into my anal cleft. Cath used my warm faecal matter as a sticky lubricant to tease open my sensitive hole. I moaned uncontrollably when her probing fingers actually forced my crinkling panties a couple of inches inside my excitable boy-pussy, thrusting erotically in and out of my dirty dilated anus. I shuddered and moaned at the naughty arousing sensations, my knees s sliding a little further apart on the cold tiles..

Aunty Cath chortled at my uncontrollable moans of pleasure as I sluttishly spread my knees even wider and poked my bum out for more. She shoved two stiffened fingers deep inside my slippery soiled botty-hole, all the way to the last knuckles. "All that poo-poos coming out of this wicked little hole… You love it!" She started to pump her fingers in and out of my greedy back door until I gasped in arousal. "Is there any more poo-poo up there, baby girl?" she demanded. "Is there?"
"No Aunty. No poo-pooth! No more poo-pooth!" I foolishly promised, my whole body shivering with excitement when she rammed her two diddling digits inside me to the hilt again.

Cath spread the fingers inside me as wide as possible inside the supple plastic, before twisting them around in my sensitive opening as she rapidly slid them in and out. She withdrew her playful waggling digits and slipped her hand further down between my splayed thighs, poking the dirty throbbing stiffie trapped inside my clinging plastic panties. "Oh yes!” she crowed triumphantly. “You love it, you dirty baby girl!"

I couldn't understand why my clittie jumped and twitched to greater fullness in her cupped palm, but I gasped at the thrilling sensations coming from down there. At the same time the ball of her right thumb massaged my delicate botty-hole wider, making me shudder and groan in excitement. "Oh yes," Aunty murmured confidently. "You love it, all right! Well baby, seeing as you love your poo-poos so much…"

Her nimble fingers briskly rubbed up and down the length of my straining shaft, while her stiffened thumb simultaneously poked my sticky panties right inside my naughty boy-pussy again, wiggling around inside of me until I almost swooned. My excitable pee-pee felt like it was about to gush bad baby juice all over the inside of my poopy panties. My dirty bottom began to rock and buck in that familiar tell-tale manner, and when I began to whimper and moan in excitement, Aunty abruptly snatched away her stimulating hand. WHACK! My bobbing, upturned rear was a perfect target for her savage ministrations. I screamed in pain when the harsh wooden paddle came slamming down on my plastic-sheathed posterior. At the same time, Aunty relaxed her grip on the back of my toddler harness and I clamped my eyelids shut in terror.

Completely off-balance, my tear and snot-streaked face plunged into the inch-thick pile of poop beneath me. My screaming mouth gaped open, and a mass of still-warm excrement burst between my wide-stretched lips to fill my maw. My plaintive squeals for mercy were effectively muffled by my own poop-filled nappy. The horrible stench and taste became one as I tried to push the revolting waste out of my mouth with my tongue. I squealed and grunted wordlessly in revulsion, my trapped fingers waving fruitlessly inches from my bosom.

I managed to turn my face to the right, smearing more sticky poo-poo over my left cheek and chin. Even my nostrils were partly clogged with stinky brown filth. "There, baby!" Aunty Cath sounded satisfied even as she cruelly scolded me. "Is that nice?" WHACK! "Is that what baby wanted?" The second harsh spank was even more painful. When I screamed and tried to wriggle away, I found she was still gripping the rear of my harness, pressing me down, crushing any hope of escape. "Ooo, look at you rubbing you face in it! I knew it! You do love it!” she crowed. “Turn your widdle face the other way, Baby Jennie." WHACK! "Go on!" WHACK! WHACK! "Turn your face!"

I squealed in fresh pain as I awkwardly twisted my head to the left instead, unable to avoid rubbing my mouth and nose through the worst of the stinky pile again. Aunty bent over to better inspect my poop-coated features, and she had to giggle at the messy results. "Ahhh! That's better! Isn't it, Baby Jennie? Isn't it?" WHACK! WHACK! She insisted more forcefully, "Isn't it, little girl?"
"Wah! Waah! Yeth Aunty! Waaaah! Yeth!" I wailed around a mouthful of soft poop, my high-pitched voice thick with filth. I didn't want to get poo in my eyes, and kept my eyelids tightly clenched as I cried in regret. "Waaaah!"

"Mmm! Yes, that's better!” Aunty Cath sang in saccharine toddler tones. “Lots of lovely warm poo-poo all over your widdle face! Go on! Rub your nose in it, you dirty girl!" She used the toddler harness to lift my torso slightly, so it was easier for me to turn my face back into the smelly pile of warm moist crap. When I was too slow to obey her awful commands, a vicious barrage from the paddle encouraged me to swiftly comply. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! "Go on, you dirty, disgusting little piggy! Rub your face in your own stinky mess."

"Waah!" I obediently thrust my face deep into the centre of the pile of still-warm poo, rubbing my nose in it and smearing fresh filth all over my cheeks, chin and forehead. "Waaah! Waaaah!"
"Ooo, that's it!” Cath squealed in mock-approval. “Look at the little piggy rubbing her face in it! What a dirty little piggy! A poopy little piggy!" My snot and tears watered down the firmer pieces, allowing them to moistly adhere to my burning cheeks. I continued to scream and cry for mercy as Aunty unendingly chastised me like I was a disgusting two-year-old. I felt her hand pressing down on the back of my head, completely burying my face in my own gooey mess.

"There! You love poo-poos so much…. Rub your nose in it! That's right! Get a good face full…" There was yucky poo-poo smeared all over my lips and tongue. Slimy filth clogged my nostrils, making breathing difficult. Bitter-tasting crap was irremovably lodged between my teeth and tucked in the pockets of both cheeks. Not only that - more poo-poo began to helplessly squirt out of my ravaged rosebud even as she rubbed my nose in it. I couldn't control it. It was like the soft turds were pulsing out of my puffy hole bit by bit, without any volition or effort from me.

When Aunty Cath noticed fresh brown lumps bulging out the seat of my transparent plastic panties, she screeched in disgust! "Oh you dirty baby! You're still doing it! You're pooping your panties again!" WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! The next flurry of blows landed right over my dilated sphincter, painfully smashing the fresh emerging turds all over my quivering seat. "You dirty, dirty baby!" WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! She ignored my muffled shrieks and spanked me so hard, I feared I'd never be able to sit again. "And wetting, too?" WHACK! "That'd be right!" WHACK! WHACK! "What a hopeless, dirty, sissy pissy cry-baby!"

I didn't realise I was peeing as well, but when I ducked my chin and opened my eyes to try and peer down between my spread knees, I could see the crotch of my transparent baby panties was sagging under the weight of a growing puddle of golden liquid. I didn't care that more poop became smeared all over my forehead and in my hair, too. There was icky sticky poo-poo stuck to me everywhere! What difference did a bit more make? It wasn't until then I realised my stiff clittie must have gone down sometime during my paddling, although I had no idea when I had started wetting. I was still peeing uncontrollably, and I watched through a veil of tears as the yellow puddle sagged lower. It noisily sloshed forward when the paddle viciously slammed against my out-thrust rear again. WHACK! “Waaah!”

Aunty frostily demanded, "Have you finished, baby?"
"Waaah!" I was momentarily incapable of replying, which merely earned me another crisp loud swat on my poop-coated, upturned rear. WHACK! "Waaaaahhhh!"
"Have you finished filling your baby panties with pee-pee and poo-poo, little girl?" She encouraged me to respond with another savage spank on my burning red bottom. WHACK! The poopy wet plastic panties clinging to my cheeks seemed to amplify the sound of each harsh blow. “Well?”

"Waaah! Yeth Aunty! I finished! Waaaahhh!" I finally managed to wail around a mouth full of yucky poop, and I heard the wooden clatter of the paddle when she tossed it on the vanity bench.
Cath snorted in disbelief, "I don't think so! What a hopeless, dirty little girl you are!" Her tone was so reproachful, I shuddered and whimpered in shame, despite my feelings of relief when she cast aside the vicious punishment implement.
"Waah! Waaah! Waaaah!" I wailed in heartfelt remorse. I tried to lift my face out of the stinky wet nappy. Without the use of my hands, it was well-nigh impossible.

Leaning over my prostrate form, Aunty Cath wrapped her gloved fingers in the hair at the back of my head. She used it like a handle, and slowly and painfully pulled me upright. My face separated from my filthy nappy with a disgusting wet sucking sound, the weight of the saturated cloth slowly dragging it free from my hot cheeks. I was trembling with reaction, almost incapable of holding myself erect on my sore knees. I sucked in a deep breath that was tainted with the heady stench of my own fresh faeces. She gathered the dirty nappy from the floor and raised it to my face, holding the messy crotch under my chin.

"Waah! I'm sowwy!” I wailed contritely. “Waaah! I'm sowwy, Aunty!" Flecks of shit spilled from my mouth and flew from my nose as I sobbed my heartfelt apologies to Aunty Cath. She stared down at me with crushing disdain, catching the brown matter spewing from my mouth with the filthy open diaper she held under my poop-stained chin.

"Are you satisfied now?" she snarled. "Look at yourself! What a dirty, disgusting, poopy little girl!" When she stepped aside to toss the filthy nappy in the tub, I realised I was kneeling up facing the vanity. I was confronted by my unrecognisable reflection in the mirror above the basin. "Is this what my baby needs to help her learn? Look at yourself! Go on, look!"

I stared at my horrifying reflection in shame. My entire face was covered in a thick layer of rich brown poo-poo, like I had dipped my face into a bucket of sticky mud. When I opened my eyes wide, I looked like I was wearing a mud facial - only mud never smelled this bad! Tears of humiliation poured from my rapidly-blinking blue eyes. I tried to turn away from my sordid reflection, only to have Aunty savagely grab my hair and relentlessly force me to confront my filthy image once more.

"Look at yourself! Look at that dirty, disgusting baby girl!" she commanded ruthlessly. The copious tears coursing down my flushed cheeks made startling pink tracks in the thick brown layer. "Is that nice?" When I was too slow to respond, she used the gloved fingers twined in my dirty blonde locks to give my head another painful warning shake. She demanded more insistently, "Is that nice, Baby Jennie? All that poo-poo on your face?"
"No Aunty!" I wailed, blubbering in shame at the disgusting brown-and-white minstrel I could see staring back at me in the mirror.

"No Aunty!" The tall brunette Amazon mimicked my remorseful shriek with uncanny cruelty. Then her tone turned cloying once more, and she poked out her bottom lip mock-sympathetically as she stared at my humbled reflection in the mirror. "Aww, look at you! What a dirty baby girl! A pooey baby girl! What are you, Baby Jennie?"
"Pooey baby," I snivelled submissively.
"Yes, that's right. A dirty, pooey baby girl. What are you?" A painful tug on my hair encouraged my swift reply.

"Dirty, pooey baby girl," I contritely mumbled, my breathing still ragged.
"Yes you are! Oh baby, look at you!" She wrenched my head from side to side so I could see the thick brown layer covering my face ear-to-ear. A nasty little lump oozed from my trembling bowed chin to drop moistly onto my shameful yellow bib, where it stuck like shit to a blanket. "Poo-poo in the face, poo-poo in the hair… There's poop in your mouth, and it's even gone up your nose! Oh yuck! Yuck-spuck!"
"Yuck-thpuck," I childishly agreed. I wanted to wipe the filth from my face with my hands, but with my wrists shackled immovably to my toddler harness, I was still helpless.

"You love poo-poos in your nappy so much? From now on, every time you soil your nappy, Aunty is going to rub your face in it!” I gazed up in horror at her. “Yes, that's right!” she assured me sincerely. “Smelly fresh poo-poo up your nose, and lots of yummy poo-poos filling your mouth. Every time from now on - again and again and again - until my disgusting little panty-pooper finally learns to hold it for the potty." She released her agonising grip on my hair, and my poop-coated chin collapsed onto my dirty bibbie with a sob of contrition.

"You will learn, baby! Aunty will make sure you learn, little girl." She made me kneel facing the white tiled corner while she sluiced my poopy nappy in the tub, muttering in disgust at the lengthy clean-up required. After she dumped the wrung-out beige nappies in my nappy bucket, she returned to the bathroom and removed her stained latex gloves with a grimace of distaste, and tossed them in the bin under the vanity bench.

"You make sure you stay right there in the corner, you bad baby girl," Aunty Cath warned me, "and don't touch your face to the wall. It's dirty!" She left me kneeling there for about ten or fifteen minutes, I think. I really had no idea. My knees were really getting sore and my arms were starting to cramp up by the time she returned to release me. The stinky poo-poo caked on my face had started to dry hard, and my drooling mouth was full of the vile taste. Cath remained frowning and silent while she unclipped my wrists from my toddler harness, then she unbuckled and removed my pink patent-leather cuffs. "Aunty is going to leave these special baby bracelets here for Mummy to use on her naughty little girl, whenever she thinks you need them," she malevolently informed me, before she urged me to stand in the bathtub.

Cath put on a fresh pair of disposable latex gloves before pulling down my dirty rumba panties, wincing in disgust. She let the tepid golden contents splash around my footsies, before I clumsily lifted each leg in turn so she could remove them. I watched the yellow puddle trickle down the drain. She leaned down low and carefully shook out the dirty wet panties, her pert nose wrinkling in revulsion, even though she was wearing her protective plastic pinafore and the latex gloves. Then she stood, towering over me with a malicious smile plastered across her beautiful face.

"Here, baby girl," Aunty Cath cooed invitingly, opening the waistband of my soiled panties wide with both hands, before slipping the mucky item over my head. I tried to twist my face aside, but my efforts to avoid her were fruitless. When I raised my hands to remove the suffocating plastic pilchers, she savagely smacked my wrists away. "Stop wriggling and don't touch, Baby Jennie!" she scolded me like she was correcting a disobedient toddler. I whimpered in agony as I hid my hands behind my back, hopefully out of her reach. "Aunty has to remove your toddler harness and your pretty frock, and we don't want to get your yucky poo-poos all over everything. Do we, baby?"

I reluctantly left the stinky clinging baby panties in place over my bowed head while she unbuckled and removed my toddler harness, the badly poop-stained baby bib, and my floaty yellow dress. Well, not so floaty, now. It was sticky with my sweat, and she had to peel the sheer toddler frock away from my shivering damp torso, before tugging it over my plastic-wrapped head. Thank goodness the frock’s lace-edged neckline was so wide! I gasped for the small amount of air the leg holes allowed in, but every straining breath I inhaled was heavily tainted with the overpowering stench of my own waste.

When I was finally naked, Aunty Cath ripped the thick plastic panties from my head, grinning callously when I sucked in a much-needed lungful of somewhat fresher air. "Step back, you dirty child," she crisply ordered. When I shuffled out of the way, Aunty turned on the shower and pointed to the bottom of the tub. "Get down on your knees, little girl." She adjusted the temperature and when it was steaming up the room, she commanded me to crawl under the running hot shower.

I didn't have to be told to tilt my filthy face up into the forceful stream, letting the hot water blast away the thick coating of crap from my scrunched features. Aunty Cath supervised me in the tub while I fiercely scrubbed the stinky brown mess from my face with a soapy washcloth she handed me, and then I shampooed, repeat shampooed, and conditioned my dirty blonde locks under her insistent direction. All the while I repeatedly rinsed my mouth and gargled in the running hot stream, trying desperately to wash away the awful lingering taste of my own poo-poo.

I scoured clean my dirty bot-bot and crotch next, the flowing water turning brown around my feet for a few minutes, until the smelly evidence of my uncontrollable soiling eventually swirled down the drain. Under her direction, I clambered off my knees and squatted, and scrubbed and rubbed between my legs with the soapy washer until the water finally ran clear. Aunty nodded with stony-faced approval when I hesitantly rose to my feet, and she made me slowly turn all the way around, so she could inspect me front and back. Satisfied for the moment, she reached in and turned off the water, adjusting the knob so the flow would come out of the bath faucet instead of the shower head.

The portable hand-held shower was attached to the faucet, and I was confused when Aunty spent a few moments pulling the small rubber shower head free from the thin white hose. She turned up the hot tap, then the cold, letting the stream from the rubber hose run on one hand, adjusting the temperature repeatedly before she seemed content. She flicked the steady flow across my feet, and I found the water quite warm - almost hot. When I didn't pull away or protest, she smiled tightly and then ordered, "Lie on your left side facing the wall, baby. And draw your top knee up to your boosies." I obeyed with alacrity, lying on my side in the cooling tub and drawing my right knee right up to my breast, exposing my wrinkled pink hole for Aunty. She dropped the spurting hose behind my back, and for a few moments, I enjoyed the soothing warmth flowing across my spine.

Warm water gushed around my upper body while Aunty smeared my sensitive poo-poo hole with a glob of Vaseline. She swiftly inserted one gloved finger right inside my delicate puckered opening, making me gasp in pleasure as she forced it in to the last knuckle. Without thinking, my thumb automatically crept between my lips and I started sucking on it. Aunty's probing finger curled and swirled and twirled inside me, coating every inch of my dilating sphincter with greasy gel, before she added a second slippery digit. "Ooo!" I moaned helplessly in arousal, and I knew my excitable clittie was starting to stiffen once more. "Oh Aunty! Ooo!" I moaned around my thumb.

Aunty Cath ignored my thrilled whimpers and continued twirling her lubricated fingers inside my back door, until I began unconsciously pressing back against her stimulating touch. "Hmph!" She snorted in contempt at my give-away gyrations, and ripped out her titillating digits and picked up the spurting rubber hose. She rubbed the film of Vaseline remaining on her gloved fingers around the end of the hose, then aimed the steady flow at my greasy pink opening. I gasped when the hot stream gushed inside my bot-bot, forcing its way past my uselessly clenching muscles.

"Open up, baby girl," Cath softly urged me, and I obediently relaxed my anal sphincter to make the insertion easier. "That's it! Open right up for Aunty. Good girl!" She fed the running hose several inches inside my bowels, and the hot water quickly filled me to overflowing. Brown-tinged water began to spurt from my ravaged hole, carrying with it small pieces of stool I had failed to expel in my nappy or my baby panties. "Squeeze your bottom hole shut for Aunty," she ordered sharply, and I hastened to obey.

In a few seconds, water began to spray from my desperately clenching anus, regardless of my valiant efforts to retain it. Aunty snorted in annoyance and ripped out the hose - accompanied by a flood of dirty brown water exploding from my bowels. She commanded unnecessarily, "Push baby! Try and push out the poo-poos!" Filthy liquid and hard little nuggets of dark-brown poo-poo squirted out of me, and Aunty used the forceful hot stream from the hose to steer the bigger lumps towards the drain.

"Ahh, that's better!” Cath sang in approval. “Look at that! Look at all those nasty little lumpies! Aunty will make sure there's no more yucky poo-poos up inside her little girl’s bot-bot. Won’t she? After all, we certainly don't want to do any more poo-poos in our nappies today. Do we, baby girl?" I could only groan and shake my head in useless denial as she rammed the hose inside me again, before ordering me to clench my botty-hole and hold it for as long as I could manage.

I seemed capable of holding the hose inside for longer this time, the hot flow pouring into me until I could feel it gushing into new, unexplored areas of my colon. I almost bit my thumb in alarm. "Oh Aunty! Aunty no!" I finally begged, when I felt my tummy starting to bulge alarmingly.
"Hold it! Hold it for Aunty, baby," she urged me, but it was no use. The pressure was too great, and it was suddenly painful, too. I wailed in distress as smelly water exploded from my uselessly clenching anus. Aunty yanked out the hose and clucked her tongue in reproval at the tiny black lumps she hosed down the drain. "I thought you told Aunty you had finished doing poo-poos? What a naughty, deceitful little girl you are!"

I lay there shivering and shuddering in shame as more water continued to trickle from my ravaged back door. I sucked harder on my thumb and wished it was my dum-dums, hoping she wouldn't notice me sucking my thumb like a big baby. But my Aunty was fortunately preoccupied washing all the nasty little lumpies down the drain. She forced the hot gushing hose back inside me several more times, and although I tried to clench my sphincter and hold it when she commanded, my control seemed to diminish with every enervating flush. Finally she seemed satisfied, and she ordered me to my feet.

"Stand up for Aunty, Baby Jennie. Come on baby girl, get to your feet." I pulled out my thumb and wiped a thin film of sweat from my face, and clumsily stood upright. My tummy bulged out so much, I couldn't see my painted pink toenails when I looked down.
"Oh Aunty," I groaned in discomfort, gently wrapping my fingers across my distended stomach in a useless protective gesture. The skin was as tight as a drum, and I sloshed inside when I stumbled in the slippery bathtub.

"Careful baby!" Aunty grabbed my shoulder with her right hand to prevent me from falling, and she brushed aside my hands from my swollen stomach with her free hand. "Ooo, look at that tum-tums sticking out!" She chuckled, "You look like a starving African baby, with that big bulging tummy."
"Ooo Aunty!" I moaned in pain when her left palm rested firmly on my gurgling abdomen. Her grip on my shoulder tightened to prevent me from wriggling away, and then the hand over my bulging tummy unexpectedly and painfully pressed down. I screamed in alarm, "Oh Aunty no!"

"Shh baby girl! Shhh," she carelessly soothed me, as she pressed down firmly on my poor distended stomach. Aunty Cath rolled the heel of her hand from my belly button down to my left hip in short juddering jabs, as though she was attempting to force the sloshing contents down my colon – and she was! "It's alright, baby. Aunty knows there's lots of water still trapped up inside your tum-tums, so Aunty has to help you push it all- Oh there you go! Squat down, baby. Quickly now! Squat down over the plug hole." I wailed in distress as dirty brown water began to first trickle out of my useless anal sphincter, then it began to actually squirt from my bottom as I obediently squatted over the drain.

For a minute or two it felt like I was doing a wee-wee out of my poo-poo hole! I squatted to pee like a little girl, gazing down between my splayed thighs to see the thin stream pour out so femininely from between my legs. I even began peeing at the same time, the golden flow from my limp clittie mixing with the dirty brown water swirling around my feet. Suddenly I felt something solid dislodge from somewhere deep inside me, and with an alarmingly loud embarrassing fart, a huge pile of dark-brown, almost-black stuff plopped out of my dilated opening. "Oh Aunty! Aunty no!" I shrieked in alarm as the horrible mess noisily farted out of me. "Noooo!" Spastic contractions gripped my colon, and it felt like my insides were trying to come out all at once. But Cath ignored my wails of distress, and continued encouraging me to empty my bowels like a good baby.

"Oh good girl! Good girl, Baby Jennie! See? Aunty knew there was more smelly poo-poos stuck inside you, didn't she? Push, baby. Take a big breath and hold it, and try and push out all the nasty, yucky poo-poos." It was like she was trying to teach me how to use the potty, and I cringed in mortification as I struggled to obey her like an obedient toddler being toilet-trained. Despite the feelings of shame and humiliation threatening to overwhelm me, I succumbed to the irresistible demands of my body and my Aunt's syrupy crooned instructions, and tried to bear down to empty myself completely.

Cath used the hose to wash the muck down the drain while I had to shakily stand again. This time I was extra-careful as I slowly clambered upright. She made me stretch my arms above my head for a few seconds, and then twist my torso from side to side before I could lower my hands. She firmly rubbed my tum-tums again, and this time I couldn't wait to squat over the plug hole. Each huge burst of water from inside me seemed to leave me weaker and more drained. Well, I guess that made sense.

Aunty made me stand still while she firmly and repeatedly massaged my tummy over my descending colon, pressing her shaking fingers deeply inside the fold of my left hip. I collapsed back against the tiled wall, unable to avoid her punishing hand. When more horrible brown water trickled out, she ordered me to squat over the drain once more, but this time the semi-solid rush was much smaller. We had to go through the rubbing and squatting routine several more times before she appeared satisfied, and then she ordered me onto my hands and knees. I knelt with my blushing red forehead pressed against the end of the cool enamel tub, my damp bruised bot-bot perched high for her inspection. I heard her unsnap the cap of the Vaseline tub again, and shuddered with a combination of fear and arousal.

"Open up, baby," Aunty purred, and this time she slid two fingers straight inside my naughty little hole. Her gloved digits were well lubricated with Vaseline, and slipped inside my ravaged anus without any resistance at all. I moaned helplessly in arousal when she curled her longest fingers all the way inside my poo-poo hole, and then she thrillingly twirled them around inside my sensitive opening. "Oh good girl! You're nice and open for Aunty now!” she praised me. “Aren't you, little girl?"
"Oh! Ooo! Yeth Aunty Cath," I meekly responded, and then moaned in disappointment when she plucked the twirling fingers from my greedy wrinkled hole. "Ohhh!" She gave a sharp snort of laughter before she plunged the streaming hose inside me once more.

"Don't bother trying to hold it this time, baby girl," Aunty reassured me, "just let it flow out. Relax, baby." I slumped on my elbows and knees and gratefully let my ravaged poo-poo hole relax open. There was a small amount of faintly brown-tinged water flushed out at first, but then the lazy hot stream from my botty-hole ran clear for several minutes. 'Good girl," Aunty praised me, as she examined the unsullied water circling the drain. "I think our Baby Jennie is a lovely clean little girl inside, now. Aren't you?"
"Yeth Aunty," I timidly agreed, before she made me stand and then shakily squat over the plughole again. After a tiny clear trickle, nothing else came out, even when I tried hard under her direction.
"Go on, baby. Push hard for Aunty. Try and do a lovely big poo-poo, like you love to do in your nappies," she encouraged me with a sly smirk. "Aunty knows how much you enjoy that! Go on; pretend you're doing a lovely big, hot, squishy poo-poo in your nap-naps. "

When nothing more came out despite my earnest red-faced efforts, she dropped the plug in the drain and ripped the hose from the bath faucet. She turned up the water pressure and raised the temperature too, and then added a capful of sweet-smelling bubble bath to the filling tub. In moments the tub was half-filled with strawberry-scented bubbles, and I began to relax, hoping that my punishment time was over. Despite the fact that I had washed myself thoroughly under the shower, Aunty Cath took a fresh washcloth and after soaping it up, she insisted on scrubbing me all over like I was a useless toddler, anyway. She shampooed my hair for the third time and conditioned it again, too, scouring my scalp with her gloved fingernails in an effort to make sure no yucky poo-poo smell lingered on my long platinum locks.

The most embarrassing part came when she made me stand up to wash my bits. She knelt beside the tub clad in the clear plastic pinafore, waiting expectantly until I clumsily clambered to my feet amidst the froth and bubbles. I turned my face to the wall in shame and pressed my palms against the cool tiles to help maintain my balance. She spread my battered bottom cheeks with one hand and scrubbed my sensitive wrinkled hole again and again, until she was certain I was crystal-clean back there. Despite my shivering embarrassment, my little clittie slowly grew stiffer during her gentle anal probing. When she grabbed my hips and turned me side-on to her, my thickening tool poked out uncontrollably, swaying and bobbing in front of her face, pleading for her attention.

Much to my relief, she merely chuckled when she noticed my helpless turgid reaction. I didn't understand her intentions when she reached for the tub of Vaseline again, but my throbbing clittie instinctively swelled even harder, until the swollen purple tip was pointing at the ceiling. She smeared a small amount of gel on two gloved fingers, and then turned to me with a wolfish smile. "Bend over and stick out that little bot-bot for Aunty, baby girl," she crooned invitingly. "Aunty has to make sure there is absolutely no more nasty poo-poos stuck up inside that naughty little hole of yours." With no choice, I submissively leaned forward and placed my hands on my knees, and poked out my bottom slightly. She used the fingers of her other hand to stretch my bruised botty cheeks wide, and then her greasy fingers were tickling open my well-used sphincter once more.

I couldn't prevent my helpless sigh of acceptance as her longest fingers easily slid all the way inside me, like fingers into a well-used glove. When she curled and twirled her digits inside my slippery hole, I even squatted down and poked my bottom out further to aid her obscene anal investigation. "Good girl," Aunty Cath crooned, her emerald eyes twinkling with mischief. "You open that little hole wide for Aunty. That's right. Good baby. Hmmm. I can't feel any poo-poos inside so far... That's good…" She used the fingers deeply inserted in my anus to force me to stand upright and turned my body slightly towards her. My stiff clittie was almost bobbing in front of her face, but then she regrettably removed her titillating fingers from my rear. She laughed at my unmistakable moan of disappointment and gently ordered, "Turn to face me and open your legs, baby girl. Open wide."

I eagerly obeyed her softly uttered commands and spread my footsies under the water. My beautiful brunette Aunty slid her gloved hand between my splayed legs and deftly probed for my delicate anal opening with her slippery fingertips again. She wrapped the warm soapy washer around my jutting tool with her other hand. Aunty Cath proceeded to gently rub the warm wet cloth up and down the length of my throbbing shaft, while simultaneously thrusting two, then sometimes three fingers, in and out of my greasy anus. I gasped aloud at the pleasurable sensations and squatted lower, sticking out my bum like a wanton hussy to grant her easier access to my boy-pussy.

Aunty Cath's longest gloved fingers plunged all the way inside me to the last knuckle, and then she twisted and turned them thrillingly inside my gaping opening. "Oh Aunty," I groaned in bliss, as the soapy warm washcloth wrapped around my clittie sensuously slid up and down. Her large fist enveloped me in familiar soggy wet warmth as she stroked me to unbelievable heights of pleasure, before I realised she was questioning me about something.
"Well baby? Is that nice?" Aunty softly demanded.
"Oh yeth, Aunty Cath! Yeth!" I squealed like an excited little girl, and she smiled in approval as she matched the expert slow thrusting movements of each hand.

"Oh yes, baby likes that," she purred knowingly, but then her voice took on a hint of warning. "But only big girls get to play like this. You know that, don't you Baby Jennie? Only big girls who wear big-girl panties get to play with their clitties and their pussies. Not silly little baby girls, who still have to wear nappies."
"Oh Aunty! Yeth Aunty Cath!" I moaned uncontrollably.

I didn't realise she had added a fourth thrusting finger to the ones already inside me, but the sensations radiating from my sensitive puffy opening were mind-blowing! My parted thighs and flexed knees were trembling with a combination of strain and arousal, but I didn't want Aunty to stop. I reached back with both hands and grabbed my shivering bruised buttocks, and wantonly pulled them further apart, opening my boy-pussy wider for her diddling digits with gay abandon. She laughed aloud at my sluttish antics, speeding up her pumping motions with both hands.

"Your Mummy has already bought you some pretty, frilly, big-girl panties for your very own, baby. She's just waiting for you to grow up. You do want to wear pretty, silky-soft panties, don't you, Baby Jennie?" Aunty insisted.
"Yeth Aunty! Oh yeth pweathe!"
"Aunty always knew you were an effeminate little sissy at heart," she murmured confidently, even as her thrilling caresses continued to titillate me front and back. "You always wanted to be a girl, didn't you? Tell Aunty, sweetie," she cooed enticingly, wriggling her four extended fingers all the way inside me and swirling them maddeningly.

"Yeth Aunty! Yeth!" I cried, and then it was happening to me again. My knees buckled, and her whole hand almost slipped inside my greedily dilated anus. Then my sphincter clamped shut and violently squeezed her fingers out, as jolt after jolt of bad baby juice squirted out of my pulsating clittie. I climaxed into the warm wet washer wrapped around my spurting tool as I squealed with unrestrained joy, "I wanna be a widdle girl! I wanna be a widdle baby girl forever!"

I collapsed to my knees in the sloshing warm water when Aunty's supporting fingers were snatched from my clenching pussy. The frothy bubbles rose around the washcloth draped over my erupting clittie, which managed to capture every drop of my creamy outpourings. I gasped for breath in the strawberry-scented air, and when I turned my face to look at Aunty Cath, I found her kneeling back on her heels beside the tub, staring at me in wide-eyed astonishment.

Too embarrassed to hold her confused emerald eyes, I let my gaze drop to the aromatic bubbles around my waist, and discreetly used the soggy washcloth to wipe away any sticky remnants lingering on my shrinking clittie. My panting, ragged gasps for air were the only sound in the echoing tiled bathroom for a minute or two. Aunty remained silent when she removed the bathplug and helped me to my feet, trembling and shaking from the aftershocks of my tumultuous orgasm. The water noisily gurgled down the drain, made louder by the strained silence. Aunty Cath lifted me out of the tub and stood me on a bathmat while she briskly rubbed down my body with a huge pink bath towel. As soon as I was deemed sufficiently dry, she took my hand and silently escorted me into the Nursery, and she lifted me onto the change table on my back. My usual thick nappy was already laid out ready and waiting for me, and in minutes Aunty had me freshly powdered and safely pinned inside my fluffy infantile swaddling.

Aunty didn't bother giving me commands to point my toesies or lift my botty when she slid a pair of translucent pink plastic panties over my bulky nappies and tucked them in. She simply pushed and pulled my legs into the required positions and did everything herself, treating me like a completely useless infant. She remained strangely silent as she dressed me in a new pink gingham sunfrock I hadn't seen before. The wide-flared cotton skirt had three tiers of ruffles similar to my red polka-dot dress, and looked equally as short.

Aunty Cath slipped the same yellow lace-trimmed white socks on my feet from before, and then buckled on my white Maryjane sandals too. She clipped my dummy chain to the lace-edged collar of my sleeveless pink frock before she lifted me down, and then she briskly dusted her hands together to remove any excess powder. She meticulously cleaned the hairbrush and then vigorously brushed my hair dry, in the process tearing out some of my hair by the roots. I bit my lip to stop from crying out, then popped my dummy in my mouth instead

Once my platinum locks were bound in two high fluffy pigtails again, she placed a hand on my shoulder and pressed down. "Down on your hands and knees, little girl," Cath firmly ordered, and I instinctively obeyed. "Little girls who can't stop peeing or pooping in their nappies are just little babies - and little babies crawl in this house, not walk. Isn't that right, Baby Jennie?"
"Yeth Aunty Caff," I mumbled resentfully around my dum-dums in reply, too ashamed to look her in the face.

"Yes, that's right," she heartily agreed, ignoring my sulky tone. "So you can just crawl out to the staircase, and make sure you bump your way downstairs on that big puffy bot-bot like a proper little baby girl should. Go on!" My upturned bulging botty was a perfect target for her broad palm, and she sent me scuttling away on my hands and knees with several crisp loud swats to my plastic-sheathed rear.

I began to understand why toddler frocks were so short. It was so babies didn't trip over the dangling hemline when they were crawling. I suddenly realised that most of my new frocks were that short. Was crawling about to become my permanent mode of locomotion from now on? Behind me, Aunty Cath strode back to the change table, and before she returned my brush to the bathroom drawer, she collected a handful of my fine blonde locks and shoved the wad of hair inside a fresh latex glove. She slipped the folded glove in the pocket of her white denim skirt, shoving it down so it wouldn't be seen.

I shuffled along the carpeted landing to the top step and then sat down. I twisted around on the slippery seat of my pink plastic panties, till my even slipperier leather soles were resting on the next step down. I bumped my way down step-by-step on my poor sore bottom, momentarily grateful for the thick soft padding that cushioned my badly-bruised bumcheeks. When I reached the bottom step and glanced up at the landing, I was relieved that I had obeyed Aunty Cath's stern instructions. She had been observing at my infantile performance from the top of the stairs, and she gave me a tight-lipped smile and a curt nod of approval when I submissively returned to my hands and knees and crawled towards the sunroom.

I hadn't reached the doorway before I heard the front door open behind me. Angelica noisily burst into the foyer, followed by Mummy at a more sedate pace. "We're home! Hey! Why is Baby Jennie crawling?" Angie loudly demanded, as she trotted down the hallway towards me. I was too ashamed to look back over my shoulder at her when Aunty Cath replied for me from the staircase.
"Baby Jennie can't stop pooping or peeing in her nappies like a helpless little baby, so your Mummy and I have decided to treat her more like a helpless little baby - and little babies can't walk around unless someone is safely holding their hand, or holding their baby reins. Helpless little babies have to crawl."

The lack of response from Mummy and my sister made me assume they agreed with both Aunty Cath's harsh assessment, and her choice of punishment for me. I crawled into the sunroom wreathed in misery, sucking noisily on my dum-dums for solace while Aunty Cath asked; "Angie? Would you be a good girl for me, and keep an eye on your baby sister? I have to talk to your Mummy about something for a minute."

Angie skipped into the sunroom after my crawling form and prattled on about her yummy chocolate-chip ice-cream, but I remained isolated in my own little world of misery until I heard Mummy's raised voice from the kitchen. "No!" she exclaimed sharply, and for one hopeful moment, I thought she was objecting to Aunty Cath's ruthless treatment of me. "What on earth?" Mummy demanded incredulously.
But then I heard my domineering Aunty forcefully insist, "I just want to hear you say it, Isabell; that's all!" My ears perked up and I listened more attentively, shaking the cloud of despondency from my mind. But my mother's shrill reply made no sense.

"I swear I never slept with your ex-husband, Catherine! There! Is that good enough?" I recognised the note of warning in my mother's strident tone, and clearly, so did her big sister.
"Alright, Isabell! Alright," Cath responded in a more placating manner. "I'm sorry, okay? It's just that - Oh, never mind. I'm being silly. Look, I have to go. I'll call you later to check on the baby's progress. Okay?" Their voices lowered until the words were indecipherable, then a few minutes later I heard Mummy silently escorting Aunty Cath down the hallway to the front door. I breathed a sigh of relief when I heard the door close behind my fearsome brunette Aunty. With spiteful enjoyment, I wallowed in the delicious hot stream pouring out of my clittie, before it soaked into my thirsty thick nappies.

To be continued in chapter 22.

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Hugs from Baby Jennie

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Baby Jennie

Synopsis; Baby Jennie can't seem to stop wetting and soiling her nappies. Frustrated with her new baby girl's failure to potty-train, Mummy decides to increase Baby Jennie's infantile status by using the big baby furniture Aunty Cath has put aside.

Chapter 22. Act Like a Baby…

For a while I lay on the sunroom carpet with my head resting on my pink teddy, cuddling my dolly Justine and sucking on my mouth-filling dum-dums. My sister wanted us to play with our Barbies some more, and I finally let her boss me into playing along, even though I felt worn out after my punishment session with Aunty Cath. At least I didn't have to get off my knees to play, as Mummy brought my sister's dollhouse downstairs, plus a collection of our dolls and accessories. We played role-playing games with our Barbies until Angie jumped up, squealing, "Mummy! Mummy, come quick! I need to do a wee-wee!" She dropped her brunette Barbie and ran off to meet our mother at the downstairs bathroom, where Mummy helped her pull down her pink shorts and her slithering plastic panties, and her still-dry disposable diaper.

I knew I was already wet, so I didn't bother asking Mummy if I could use the potty, too. I shuffled after my sister in my pink gingham toddler frock on my hands and knees, unaware that I was sucking noisily on my dum-dums as I crawled down the hallway. I saw Angie sit on her potty without any help from Mummy, and I arrived at the bathroom doorway in time to hear her stream of urine noisily splash into her yellow plastic pot-pot. As though by reflex, my bladder started to empty too, stimulated by the tinkling sounds I could hear coming from Angie’s potty. I spread my knees slightly and enjoyed the fresh burst of heat around my genitals.

"Oh good girl, Angie! What a clever big girl you are!" After glancing in my direction to make sure I was still on all fours, Mummy continued heaping praise on my beaming sister. My head bowed in shame when Mummy stepped over to my kneeling form and crisply swatted my well-presented padded posterior. "Not like some wet big babies," she muttered scornfully to me. But each noisy smack on my botty caused another lovely warm splash of wee-wees to jet out of my clittie, and I perversely enjoyed the combined sensations even as I cringed in embarrassment. The distinct wet sound her palm made striking my taut plastic panties caused her to grimace in distaste.

"You really can't help yourself, can you, Baby Jennie? What a silly, wet baby girl you are," Mummy scolded me. I was too ashamed to meet her disappointed olive-green eyes. When my sister announced she had finished doing her wee-wees, Mummy grabbed a few sheets of toilet tissue. Angie stood without any help, and that's when I noticed Mummy hadn't even bothered strapping her into her potty-chair. Life was so unfair!

"I can do it by my own self," Angie proudly insisted, and she almost snatched the folded tissue from Mummy's hand. She squatted slightly, as Mummy usually had her do, and then my frowning sister briskly wiped her front bottom clean. Mummy beamed in delight, and her pleased smile lit up the roomy downstairs bathroom. I crawled back into the sunroom to my Barbies with her glowing endorsements for my grinning sister ringing in my ears. They disappeared upstairs into the Nursery for a time, and then I heard my sister bounding down the stairs.

When she returned to the sunroom, I saw Angie had changed out of her pink shorts and singlet into a sleeveless pink gingham outfit that matched mine. She yanked up the front of her short tiered frock to show me her crackling new disposable underwear. "Look! Look, Baby Jennie," she cried, the words tumbling from her rosebud lips in excitement. "Mummy bought me some pull-ups, like you wear at Aunty Cath's! Look!" I could see my sister was wearing a rustling papery pull-up with a puffy elastic waistband and gathered leg holes. A burst of uncontrollable jealousy made my cheeks turn pink, but Angie didn’t seem to notice. She declared with a smug smile, "I put them on all by my own self!"

I sucked harder on my dum-dums for consolation as she dropped her dress hem and flopped her bum down on the floor opposite me. She couldn't look more pleased with herself if she tried, and I tried to be happy for her. I remembered when I had to wear a similar pink pull-up under my ballerina tutu, when I danced with Sally and Daisy, the girls who lived behind us. I tried to suppress my feelings of envy for my lucky sister. We continued playing with our Barbies until dinnertime, which began with Mummy fastening a fresh bib around my neck.

"Come on girls, into the kitchen. Dinner's ready," she announced, unclipping my dummy and slipping it into the pocket of her apron. Angie jumped to her feet and toddled ahead of us, but when I clumsily attempted to stand, Mummy held me down with one heavy hand on my shoulder. She slid her other hand under the hem of my tiered pink frock and wormed her fingers inside the waistband of my crackling baby panties, then shook her head in dismay.

"No, baby girl," she corrected me softly yet firmly, as she removed her pee-damp fingers and wiped them dry on my clean bibbie. "You're very wet," she complained with a disappointed frown. "How many wetties did you do, Baby Jennie?"
"I dunno," I mumbled sulkily, thinking; 'What difference does that make?'

"Why didn't you ask Mummy for the potty?" she demanded.
"I dunno," I childishly repeated, feeling my cheeks begin to blush when she sighed loudly in resignation.
"Maybe your Aunty Cath is right. If you can't make more of an effort to keep yourself dry, maybe you should be treated more like the helpless little baby you seem to want to be. You can crawl into the kitchen for dinner, you naughty little girl. Go on! Show Mummy how you well you can crawl, Baby Jennie."

I meekly obeyed her stern instructions and shuffled towards the kitchen on all fours. As she followed me, Mummy muttered in dire warning; "You'll soon learn, little girl… Act like a baby - be treated like a baby." She lifted me into my highchair and buckled me in, then fixed the heavy wooden tray in place. I was too tired to care that I was spoon-fed two warmed jars of tasteless toddler food, while they feasted on delicious-smelling chicken satay and vegetables, served on a fragrant bed of steaming jasmine rice. Mummy fed me ice-cream and diced pears for dessert, and my sister giggled at the mess that ended up smeared all over my face.

Our mother clucked her tongue in reproval when she had to wipe me messy chin repeatedly with my stained bibbie, and she barely seemed amused when Angelica parroted in a high clear voice that sounded exactly like hers; "Baby Jennie is such a messy eater."

Angie was still dry when Mummy checked her pull-up after dinner, which earned her a fresh bout of praise. My nappy was saturated of course, and after she removed my sodden diaper on the change table, Mummy made me sit on my big pink potty sucking on a bottle of green minty water, while my sister frolicked alone in a hot bath full of strawberry-scented bubbles. Mummy told me I didn't need another bath, as she had been assured by her sister Cath that I had been thoroughly washed that afternoon - inside and out!

After Angie was finished in the tub, Mummy pulled the plug and lifted her out. She dried her as she steered her into the Nursery, and they chatted brightly while Mummy dressed her for bed. From Angie's excited squeals, I knew Mummy must be letting her wear a pull-up to bed, too. I had to remain alone in the bathroom sitting naked on my potty, as I was still buckled to my humiliating pink toddler toilet. I actually managed to drain a whole big baby bottle of spearmint-flavoured water through the stingy teat, Mummy left me there so long.

When she returned to the bathroom and finally released me, Mummy inspected my empty potty with a snort of annoyance. I didn't know what else she expected. She had left me to play in my wet diaper all afternoon, and didn't bother changing me before dinner. The delicious humid warmth of my snugly-pinned nappies only seemed to encourage my uncontrollable bladder to empty more frequently. Although I had to admit; after the initial almost scalding-hot gush, I scarcely noticed when I did more wetties. The comforting warm flow simply seeped out of me intermittently, without any conscious awareness on my part.

Mummy lifted me naked into the empty bathtub, and soaped up a washcloth under a trickle of warm water from the faucet. She knelt beside the tub, and then turned my skinny frame side-on to her. She used the warm soapy washer to swiftly scrub my bottom crack and between my legs. She was quick but thorough, although she had to pause when she was washing my clittie. Totally beyond my control, a stream of golden wee-wees spurted out of my limp tool, the moment she enveloped it in the humid warmth of the washcloth. I tried to make it stop, but it was hopeless!

"Oh no! Oh Baby Jennie!" Mummy berated me, before grimacing in disgust. "That'd be right," she muttered crankily, snatching the dripping washcloth away from my leaking tap before grabbing my hips. She turned my body to direct my unstoppable amber flow towards the bathtub drain. She complained in a tone of long suffering, "My silly baby girl goes pee-pee anywhere - except in the toilet - or on her potty." She sighed loudly and held my hips securely, waiting impatiently for me to finish.

"I can't help it! Sowwy Mummy," I mumbled apologetically from around the thumb in my mouth, my cheeks turning pink with shame. I didn’t realise how much I sounded like a whiny two-year-old. I wished I could make it come out faster, but it was like I'd forgotten how to push with the muscles down there.

When the thin trickle thankfully dwindled to a halt, Mummy gave my dripping tap a few disdainful shakes, and then a hard squeeze that made me squeal in agony. She vigorously scrubbed my clittie and ball sack until I winced and whimpered in pain, and she made me rinse my feet under the running faucet before she would let me clamber out of the tub. After roughly drying me, she led me by the hand into the Nursery, where I was surprised to find my sister absent.

Mummy cuttingly answered my unspoken question. "Angie's being allowed to say up a bit later tonight and watch TV, because she's been behaving like such a big responsible girl.” She whisked me onto my back on the change table and muttered in annoyance, “But you, on the other hand, Baby Jennie…" She grabbed my ankles in one hand and the container of baby powder in the other, and when my toes had been pushed back towards my face, she sprinkled a handful of powder on my buttocks. She ignored the fresh bruises decorating my bum cheeks, merely pursing her lips in disapproval at the painful lingering reminders of my naughtiness while she briskly rubbed in the sweet-smelling talc.

In minutes I was freshly powdered front and back, and pinned into a bulky fluffy nappy. Like Aunty Cath earlier, Mummy treated me like a completely useless baby and dressed me without any assistance from me whatsoever. Instead of my usual bedtime onesie, she produced a filmy shortie cotton nightgown for me to wear. I gazed at the pretty pink nightie uncertainly, even though the tiny blue and white flowers embroidered above the gathered bustline looked really cute. "Aunty Cath gave me some of her girls' old nighties for you to wear to bed, baby," Mummy said briefly by way of explanation. The flared hem of the cotton baby doll gown lightly settled around my padded hips like a fluffy cloud caressing a mountaintop, failing utterly to cover my shiny plastic panties.

As soon as she clipped my dummy chain to the high round collar, I pushed the soothing amber teat between my pursed lips and drew hard on it for comfort. Mummy briefly kissed my cheek and then forced me to lie back in my cot, and she watched my face the whole time while she raised the side rail into place and walked to the landing doorway. She switched off the overhead light with a soft, "Goodnight, baby girl. Try and stay clean and dry for Mummy tonight." I lay on my side gazing through the crib bars while she slipped from the Nursery.

After I heard Mummy's tread disappear downstairs, I cautiously raised the front hem of my pretty pink nightie up to my nipples. The advantage of wearing a nightie to bed over a onesie? Easier access! I slid one hand inside the snug elasticised waistband of my crackling pink baby panties, and struggled to force my fingers inside my nappy. Mummy had pinned my diaper so tightly, I had to inhale and suck in my tummy before I could squeeze my hand underneath. I eagerly caressed my swelling, powder-coated clittie, a little disappointed my nappy wasn't already wonderfully warm and wet, as usual. I rubbed my thickening tool between my fingertips as I thought about all the strange events that had occurred that day, and how they made me feel.

Despite rubbing my face in my poopy nappy and paddling my poor botty till it was black and blue, it had been amazing when Aunty Cath masturbated me to a thrilling climax in the bathtub, especially when her fingers expertly penetrated my boy-pussy at the same time. My swollen clittie grew harder as I recalled the fantastic erotic scene, and I tickled the sensitive spot under the head of my stiffening tool till it was hard as a bar of steel. After a while though, I had to pull my hand out. The tight nappy was cutting off the circulation past my wrist, and it was too uncomfortable. Instead I turned onto my tummy and rocked and rolled on my puffy padded groin, gently thrusting my throbbing stiffie into the front of my soft fluffy nappies. I inhaled the delightful scent of baby powder lingering on my fingers, gently masturbating until sleep finally claimed me.

I didn't wake when Mummy brought Angelica upstairs later and put her down for the night. I slept undisturbed until Mummy lowered the side of my crib on Friday morning, tut-tutting in annoyance at the way I was forced to curl up in the too-tight confines. She rolled me onto my back and my knees automatically flopped wide apart, my feet drawn up and touching. She flicked up the bottom of my baby doll nightie over my bosom and noisily patted my padded crotch, instantly detecting the warmth of a full wet nappy underneath. "Wet again, I see," she snorted in dismay, and I sucked harder on the teat of my soothing dum-dums. "What a hopeless big baby! Mummy is going to ring Aunty Cath this morning, and arrange to check out that baby furniture she put aside for you. It seems I might need to keep my big baby girl in a cot for a little while longer than I first thought," she announced with a scowl, as she lifted me onto the change table. It didn't help that Angie jumped out of bed and scuttled straight into the bathroom, loudly informing us that she needed to do a poo on her potty.

Mummy was preoccupied removing my saturated nappies, and when she called out to ask my sister if she needed any help, Angie smugly replied from the bathroom. "No thank you, Mummy. You look after the baby. I pulled down my plastic pants and my pull-ups all by myself, and I'm doing my wee-wees and poo-poos on the potty like a big girl, all by my own self."

I cringed under Mummy's reproachful frown for my uncontrollable infantile behaviour, while she carefully wiped all traces of urine-soaked powder from my crotch and bottom. At least I wasn’t poopy. Angie was already finished doing her business by the time Mummy led me waddling into the bathroom by one hand. Despite being showered with praise, my frowning sister had to wait for Mummy to buckle me into my humiliating pink potty, before being handed some folded sheets of toilet paper. Even though Angie wanted to do it all by herself, I was actually pleased when Mummy had to take over wiping her dirty little botty-hole clean, as my sister had quite mastered that act, yet.

Once again I failed to produce anything in my pink plastic potty, much to Mummy's chagrin. She treated me like a useless infant while she diapered me afresh, not allowing me to assist her in any way. She dressed us in the same pink gingham frocks we'd worn the previous afternoon, and white anklet socks with pink lace trim, and our matching pink sneakers, too. Mummy fed me a huge bowl of porridge for breakfast while Angie fed herself, as usual. While I was still buckled in the highchair finishing off my bottle of green minty water, Mummy strode into the hallway and rang our Aunty Cath.

Even though I could hear only one side of the conversation, it was obvious Aunty Cath wasn't surprised by my mother's decision to go over and inspect the big baby furniture. They made plans for us to visit later that morning, and I gave a little jerk of fear when I heard Mummy reply; "No, Baby Jennie hasn't pooped her nappy today. Just wet herself. Yes, Cath. I will let you know if she soils herself again, don't worry." I inspected the dribble of green liquid that escaped my lips to stain my pink bib, only then remembering to read the embarrassing embroidered inscription; 'Caution - Panty-pooper!'

Mummy asked us what we wanted to do while she took a shower, and I shrugged my shoulders dismissively. Angelica wanted to play with our baby dolls in the backyard, and I didn't care. After Mummy cleaned my face and let me out of my highchair, she took down our harnesses from behind the back door. "We're going over to Aunty Cath's before lunch, girls, so try not to mess up your pretty outfits. Okay?"
"Yes Mummy," we obediently chorused, and I realised my thumb was in my mouth. I plucked it out and stared at my wet digit, suddenly realising it wasn’t what I wanted. I pointed to where my dummy sat in a glass of water on the kitchen bench and pleaded, "Mummy? Mummy, can I have my dum-dumth, pweathe?"

Even though she shook her head in mild dismay at my infantile request, she smiled thinly as she took my pink dummy from the glass and popped the dripping amber teat between my waiting open lips. She buckled my pink leather toddler harness in place, and it was only when she untucked the frilly bib from under the chest straps and smoothed it out over my breast, that I realised she hadn't removed my humiliating baby napkin. Mummy clipped the dummy chain to the white lace edging the collar of my bib, muttering, "You can keep your bibbie on this morning, too, baby girl. Mummy noticed you've been drooling quite a lot, recently."
I felt crushed with embarrassment when Angie giggled derisively, "Baby Jennie is such a dribble-puss!"

After Angie and I had been playing in the bright morning sunshine with our baby dolls for about half an hour, I felt a familiar sudden urge from my bowels. I sat back on my heels and fought back the natural reflex to simply let go in my comfy damp nappies. Instead I stood and waddled as close to the house as the chain leash would permit, and frantically called out; "Mummy! Mummy? I need to do a…" I was hesitant to yell the humiliating words out loud, and paused in momentary confusion. "Mummy, I- I need the potty," I haltingly explained when she came dashing out, my cheeks already rosy with embarrassment.

Mummy was wearing a faded blue denim skirt that fell to her mid-thighs, and a short baby-blue t-shirt that exposed an inch or two of her flat brown stomach when she hurried towards me. She smiled and demanded in treacle tones, "Yes, Baby Jennie? Does my clever baby girl need to use her pot-pot?" Her large breasts barely shifted with every urgent stride, indicating she was wearing one of her heavy support bras this morning. "What a good girl you are, Baby Jennie, asking Mummy for the potty," Mummy praised me, as she began to unbuckle my toddler harness. She was wearing flat tan leather sandals, and I admired her pretty pink toenails when they glistened attractively in the bright sunlight. I had to squat slightly so she could unfasten the rear buckle of the crotch strap, and that simple familiar action brought a rapid inadvertent response.

"Oh no, Mummy! Poo-poo!" I squealed in dismay. Angie stared at me in astonishment as a loud crackling sound emanated from the rear of my plastic panties. A hot log of poo-poo forced its way out of my slackened anal sphincter, visibly tenting out the seat of my snug pink baby panties. Mummy paused behind me to examine the growing bulge in the seat of my plastic panties, and then twirled me around to face her. I couldn't meet her angry accusing glare, and let my humiliated gaze drop to the grass around my pink sneakers.

My cheeks flushed warmly with shame when she harshly demanded; "You couldn't wait, could you? You naughty little girl!" With a snort of contempt, she spun me around and pulled the wide crotch strap behind me even tighter, causing the huge messy load in my nappy to squish all over my bottom and between my splayed thighs. It was then I realised my hopeless bladder had unleashed as well, and the warm flow from the front seeped down to meet the hot mess at the rear. "What a naughty little panty-pooper!" After buckling the crotch strap as tightly as she could, Mummy gave me a few hard spanks on my poop-coated bum as well, holding the back of my leather toddler harness so I couldn't run away. "Bad baby! Bad baby girl!" she scolded me, as she cruelly spanked my badly-soiled bottom. It didn’t hurt much because of all the padding, but I screamed and wailed like I was being beaten to death.

"I don't think you're even trying," Mummy snapped angrily, a warning glint flashing in her olive-green eyes. "I think your Aunty Cath is right. My wicked Baby Jennie likes peeing and pooping in her nappies!" Even as I sobbed in shame and shook my head in useless denial, she continued to berate me. "Well since you seem to like it so much, you can stay in your pooey mess until Mummy decides to change you. Let's see how much you like it after an hour or two!" With that she stormed off, and I turned to see Angie staring at me, contempt shining in her wide blue eyes.

At first I found the stench around me mildly nauseating, but after a while, the smell wasn't so bad. Although I noticed Angie sat as far away from me as she could, and still remain in the sandbox. If I crawled too close to her, she would wrinkle her pert nose in disgust and move away. It was with a combination of malicious spite and infantile pleasure that I made sure every inch of my dirty botty was soon well-smeared with smelly poo-poos. I rocked backwards and forwards in my humid swaddling while straddling the thick wooden edge of the sandpit, ensuring my crotch was heavily coated in sticky faeces, too. If Mummy wanted to leave me in a poopy nappy for a few hours, I was going to make sure she had lots of yucky mess to clean up afterwards.

When I crawled around later on my hands and knees, I found the tight crotch strap of my toddler harness kept my nappy pressed against my front. My filthy clittie rubbed against the warm sticky mess coating the inside of my wonderfully wet nappy, especially when I crawled around on my hands and knees. It was highly arousing, and occasionally when Angie wasn't watching, I secretively rubbed the clinging front of my dirty wet nappies against my stiff little tool. I privately revelled in the naughty erotic sensations. I didn't realise Mummy had been checking on us at regular intervals, peeping at us through the sunroom and kitchen windows.

It seemed like all day before she deigned to come out to unleash us and lead us inside. I had to remain on all fours until Mummy removed my toddler harness, and then she took my hand and helped me to my feet. As soon as we entered the house, Mummy released my hand and sternly ordered me onto all fours again. She made me crawl ahead of her upstairs to the Nursery. Even though they were heavy with wee-wees and poo-poos, my sticky excrement made sure the warm soggy nappies stuck to my sensitive flesh, front and back. I knew Angie was watching my big bulging botty wobbling from side to side while I crawled ahead of them, and my flushed cheeks blushed a deeper shade of red when she complained about the yucky smell.

My bottom and crotch were filthy when my scowling Mummy unpinned my saturated nappies on the change table. She spent several disgusting minutes scraping away the worst of my smelly mess with a few hands full of toilet tissue. My little sister stood watching us from the doorway, her nose clamped between thumb and fingers, complaining endlessly about the horrible stench. When she judged me safe enough, my cranky mother made me climb down from the table onto my hands and knees like a useless ten-month-old. She insisted I crawl like a baby all the way into the bathroom, and then climb into the cold empty bathtub. Angie had run ahead of us, and she was already sitting in the bathroom, pants down, doing her wee-wees in her yellow potty. My sister watched me with a solemn expression as I shuffled along on all fours like a useless infant, my cheeks blazing with humiliation. Mummy followed me inside and threw the soiled tissues into the toilet, clucking her tongue in reproach as she flushed the stinky mess away.

"Into the bath, you dirty, bad baby girl!" Mummy ordered with an imperious pointed finger. I climbed into the cold empty tub with barely a whimper. She hosed down my bottom and crotch for ages before she put the plug in and allowed the bath to fill. Mummy left me to soak while she helped Angie off her potty. I watched from the bath in fascination as Angie gently wiped her puffy slit clean, and then Mummy made her bend right over so she could inspect while my sister wiped her botty-hole, as well. "Good girl, Angie," Mummy praised her, when my beaming sister managed to successfully complete that important task all by herself, too.

They abandoned me in the tub while Mummy escorted my sister into the Nursery and watched Angie dress herself again, although she popped her head around the doorway every few seconds to check on me. This time Mummy gave Angie some pretty plastic panties decorated with colourful butterflies to pull on over her pull-up. "Just in case," I heard Mummy reassure my reluctant sister, when she sulkily objected to wearing 'baby pants'. "You know how upset Aunty Cath gets, when someone accidentally pees on her floor. I know you're a big girl, sweetie - not a baby, like Baby Jennie. I know, honey. It's just for a couple of hours, I promise," Mummy wheedled.

I knew my cheeks turned crimson with shame when I overheard their humiliating exchange. I couldn't look Mummy in the face when she came in afterwards to wash me. It took her ages to scrub me clean, and she muttered irritably to herself the whole time. I remained surly and silent while she diapered me afresh and dressed me in my pink gingham toddler frock again. Not that it made any difference to Mummy. She was treating me more and more like a hopeless infant with every passing hour - one incapable of helping her or understanding her intentions. I found this treatment extremely demeaning. Mummy decided my pink plastic panties were too smelly to use again, and replaced them with a fresh pair of wetproof knickers - only these were baby-pink, nylon-covered rumba panties, with rows of frilly white lace across the tushie, and matching soft narrower white lace trim around the wide elastic waist and leg bands. As soon as Mummy tied my pink sneakers on my stockinged feet, she lifted me down and ordered me to crawl out to the staircase and bump my way downstairs.

My sister was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, and she watched my juvenile progress down each step with wide-eyed fascination. I chewed on my dum-dums, sucking hard on the mouth-filling amber teat to cover my embarrassment. Unwilling to crawl any further in front of Angelica, I remained seated on the bottom step and sulkily waited for Mummy to join us. She trotted downstairs a short time later wearing a purple mid-thigh shirt-dress that buttoned down the front, belted with a sash of darker purple plaited leather. Her black court shoes had a modest three-inch heel, and she carried a matching black clutch purse - and my bulging pink gingham change bag. Mummy dumped the bags on the floor beside me, and then disappeared towards the kitchen to lock the back door and windows.

I frowned around the wide pink flange of my dum-dums when she returned a few minutes later clutching my leather toddler harness and baby reins. When she noticed my sour expression, Mummy commented, "I thought you would rather walk at the end of your baby reins, rather than crawl around outside. What do you think, Baby Jennie? Crawling? Or walkies?" I scowled dejectedly at both humiliating alternatives, but held out my hands and raised my head so Mummy could slip the pink leather harness over my arms and head. "That's what I thought," she murmured with a thin-lipped smile. "Good baby." When it was securely buckled in place, Mummy attached both reins to the front D-rings either side of my nipples, and then used the slender leather straps to tug me to my feet. "Come on, baby girl," she sang invitingly. "Let's take my pretty little girls over to visit their Aunty Cath. You can lead the way and open the front door for Mummy like a big girl, Angelica."

My sister led the way with a superior smug smirk, her little button nose tilted high in the air. Mummy's white Toyota Camry was already parked in the driveway, and after Angelica had been buckled into her toddler car seat, Mummy helped me to clamber in to the back seat and needlessly buckled me in, too. While she climbed behind the wheel, I tried to amuse myself by gently patting the front of my pink baby panties with my fingers, but the thickness of the material underneath prevented much chance of genital stimulation. The combination of thick cloth nappies and the toddler's disposable soaker pad in between the cloth layers, meant that everything inside my rumba panties felt disconnected from the outside. I wondered if I was wet again already, and discretely raised the front of my tiered pink frock over my tummy. As Mummy was busy driving, I sneaked my fingers inside the tight waistband of my baby panties, only to be brought up short by her screech from the driver's seat.

"Baby Jennie! Get your hand out of your panties, little girl!" Mummy barked in fury. I glanced up to see her olive-green eyes glaring at me in the rear-view mirror, and I realised she must have been watching me the whole time.
I guiltily snatched my paw from my crotch and smoothed down the ruffled pink gingham tiers over my rustling baby panties, trying to look innocent. "I was onwy checking-"
"No, baby! Bad baby! Bad baby girl!" she sternly reprimanded me, "Babies don't need to check their nappies, you silly girl! That's what Mummies and Aunties - and their babysitters, are for." Even though I couldn't see her face, I could hear the forbidding scowl in her tone. "Babies don't touch down there! Not ever!"

I poked out my bottom lip resentfully and sucked my dum-dums instead of replying. I tried to ignore Angelica primly sitting beside me when she likewise pursed her lips and shook her head in disapproval at me. It wasn't until we arrived at Aunty Cath's place that I realised the consequences of my immature actions.

After Mummy helped me down from the back seat and locked the car, she made me stand in front of her and ordered me to hold out my hands. She fumbled in my packed vinyl change bag for a moment, before turning back to me. I mumbled contritely around my dummy teat when she buckled the pink patent 'baby bracelets' around my slender wrists, and then clipped them to the D-rings at the front of my toddler harness.

Angie stood beside me watching as Mummy shackled my wrists, and although her cornflower-blue eyes went wide, she made no comment. I impotently shook my bound arms, cringing at the merrily jingling bells while Mummy raised the front of my pink gingham frock. Without thinking, I instinctively poked out my groin and leaned back. She slipped her searching fingers inside the waistband of my plastic-lined rumba panties, and reached down and squeezed the crotch of my nappy.

"Still dry," she announced, with a tight smile that never reached her cool, olive-green eyes. Mummy unclipped the pink leather baby reins from the front and then reattached them to the rear D-rings of my harness, and to my humiliation, she handed the looped ends to my smirking sister. "Here, Angelica. Lead your baby sister inside like a good girl for Mummy, please." Her blue eyes sparkling, my sister eagerly grabbed the reins and gaily ordered me to waddle ahead of her up the path and onto Aunty Cath's front porch.

We waited for a few moments after Mummy rang the doorbell, and then Aunty Cath opened the front door to greet us. "Hello Isy! Hello, girls. Don't you all look pretty today?" Cath was wearing a pair of skin-tight blue jeans with a too-large, striped men's business shirt over the top, and the shirt-tails fell past her crotch. Her long, dark-brown hair was tied back in a simple ponytail, and she was wearing camel-coloured work boots that laced up above her ankles.

As soon as Mummy and Angelica walked past her into the house, Aunty Cath stopped me by squatting in front of me and grabbing my dress hem with one hand. "Oh, I see you're wearing your special baby bracelets today!" she commented with a sly smile. "Have you been misbehaving, little girl?"
"I caught her trying to put her hands inside her baby panties when she thought no-one was watching," Mummy informed her sister with a sour expression.
"I see. Let me check that nappy, Baby Jennie," Aunty Cath softly commanded.

"She dirtied her nappy again this morning," Mummy informed Cath with a scowl, and my Aunt's expression turned forbidding as she raised the flounced front of my flared pink gingham frock.
"You shouldn't have changed her," Cath reminded her sister, her tone turning frosty. "I would happily have taken care of her here."
"She pooped her panties a few hours ago, and I made her sit in it until just before we came over. I couldn't leave her in a dirty nappy all day," Mummy complained. "Especially for the drive over. She was too smelly!"

My bottom lip poked out resentfully, fortunately mostly concealed by the wide pink flange of my dum-dums. When Aunty slipped her hand inside the frilly waistband of my rustling rumba panties, I did what I did for Mummy. I automatically assumed the normal child-like pose of a toddler having its diaper checked. I squatted slightly, stuck out my puffy padded groin and tilted my shoulders back, my little feet splayed wide on the plush beige carpet to maintain my balance. It was as though my genitals were freely available for any grown-up to check - anytime, anywhere - just like a real toddler.

"Hmm. Still dry," Aunty Cath commented while standing, and she gave my grim-faced mother the barest nod of approval. Then she leaned over me and wiped the ball of her thumb across my chin, below the pink plastic guard of my dummy. "But what a dribble-puss! Let Aunty get you a clean bibbie, baby girl."

We milled about in the foyer while Aunty Cath dashed into her kitchen, and she returned a few moments later clutching a lace-edged pink bib. "I kept a few bibs here for our special big baby girl, you know?" She stood behind me and clipped the pink terry bib around my neck with two chromed snap-fasteners, and then stepped around to smooth it over my breast between my bound wrists. Her cruel pleased smile told me the message embroidered on my new bibbie had to be something embarrassing, but I didn't have time to check the inscription before Aunty Cath turned to my grinning sister. "Here, Angie. Let me take those," she insisted, holding out her hand for the baby reins.

My sister handed over the pink leather reins as she squealed, "Hello, Aunty April!" Angie ran towards the towering teenager striding down the hallway. April looked beautiful as ever in a pair of tight navy stretch jeans, a snug yellow tank-top with spaghetti straps over the shoulders. Even though our oldest cousin wasn't wearing a bra, her small bosoms were proudly upthrust, and her nipples made two discernible tiny bumps at the crest of each firm fleshy mound. Her lengthened eyelashes were unsullied by any hint of mascara, although she had decorated her generous mouth with her favourite cherry-red lipstick. With her wide brown eyes and her flawless pink-cheeked complexion, she needed no other make-up. The laughing young woman crouched down and gathered my shrieking sister into her arms, then stood and twirled her around in the air, spinning with ease on her white rubber-soled sneakers.

"Hi Angie! How's my gorgeous little niece?" Angelica was giggling too hard to form a coherent reply, and the raven-haired beauty set her down and turned to my mother and me instead. "I should say; my gorgeous little nieces. Hi, Baby Jennie! Hello Aunt Isy. Gosh, your little girls look sweet today. I love little girls in pink gingham."
"April," Aunty Cath interrupted before Mummy could reply, "could you look after Angie for an hour or so? I want to show your Aunt Isy and Baby Jennie the furniture you girls moved into the garage, and then I need-"
"But Mum!" April looked pretty even when she was pouting mournfully. "You asked me to pick up the rest of Baby Jennie's bibs from the embroidery place today, remember?" It was then I noticed my cousin already had her brown leather handbag looped over one shoulder, and she was clutching her keys in her other hand. "And I arranged to meet Susie at the mall afterwards, too. We want to go to that new lingerie shop on the upstairs level, you know? I saw a gorgeous black lace bra in the window that I simply must try on, and I desperately need some new undies, too."

Before Aunty Cath could respond, Angelica excitedly demanded, "Can I go too? Please, Aunty April?" She stared up imploringly at our tall smiling cousin, then turned to look beseechingly at Mummy.

"I don't mind," said Mummy and Aunty April simultaneously, and both women laughed.
"Really," April continued with a broad smile, "it would be no trouble at all. We'll only be gone for like, about an hour or two." Angelica was already bouncing up and down in excitement, and Mummy nodded in agreement.

"Alright, April. If you can drive Angie back to my place after you've finished shopping…"
"Don't worry, Aunt Isy. I was planning to drop over afterwards with the rest of Baby Jennie's bibs, anyway." Angelica released April's hand long enough to throw herself at Mummy for a hurried hug and a kiss goodbye, and then she grabbed our tall cousin's hand again and practically dragged the gorgeous teen towards the front door.

After they disappeared, I felt a momentary pang of envy as I imagined visiting a lingerie shop with my beautiful raven-haired cousin and one of her girlfriends. I wondered if they would parade around in nothing but their sexy panties and bras where Angie could see them, and felt my clittie stiffen inside the comforting warm folds of my fluffy nappy at the wicked fantasy. My erotic daydreams were shattered by a familiar cruel feminine laugh, and I felt a hot spurt of urine escape from my swelling pee-pee before I could try and stem the flow. I wondered whether I should tell Mummy I needed the potty, but realised it was already too late when I felt the wonderful heat splashing around my sensitive genitals.

"Hi Aunt Isy. Hello Baby Jennie," Bonnie drawled, as she sauntered into the room. She read aloud the humiliating embroidery on my bibbie; "Hello, 'Aunty's Precious Panty-Pooper'!" Then she laughed loudly again, sneering in derision as she leaned down to possessively pat my bulging, nylon-covered crotch. I hoped she couldn't tell I was wetting my nappy!

Although Bonnie was wearing a face full of make-up as usual, my buxom brunette cousin had made no effort to dress up today. Her long chestnut hair was loosely tied in two pigtails either side of her head, and they were long enough to flap against her huge bosoms with her every long-legged stride. She wore a pair of shapeless, baggy, pink-and-white striped, short-legged overalls similar to my pink toddler shortalls, except hers were long enough to cover most of her fleshy brown thighs - and hers didn't have snap-fasteners in the crotch, either.

My overbearing seventeen-year-old cousin had a pair of plain tan leather sandals on her feet, and I could see the familiar creamy pink nail polish decorating each tiny toenail. Her overalls had a high bib front without any adornment, held in place by two wide straps over the shoulders, and the baggy waistline was loose enough to flap around above her broad womanly hips. Underneath, Bonnie wore a oversized white t-shirt that utterly failed to conceal her enormous bosoms, which jiggled inside her hefty underwire bra cups when she laughed at my sissified, infantile appearance. "Aww! Look at you, little baby." She stepped back to smooth the pink bibbie over my bosom, seemingly unaware that my wrists were bound to my toddler harness either side. "What a pretty sissy baby girl," Bonnie playfully teased me. We all turned towards the sound of an unexpected knock on the front door. Then the doorbell chimed brightly, as well.

"Who could that be?' Aunty Cath muttered to herself, and she handed the baby reins to my smirking chestnut-haired cousin and hurried to open the door. I tried to conceal myself behind Bonnie's broad frame, unwilling to suffer more humiliating exposure. My pink gingham toddler frock was so short, it barely covered the lacy waistband of my bulging baby panties. With my wrists shackled to the front of my toddler harness, there was no way I could tug down the front of my frock to conceal my humiliating appearance. One glance at my bulging panty crotch, and anyone would know that I was nothing but a diapered big baby. Bonnie merely laughed at my suddenly shy behaviour and cruelly stepped aside, holding the reins up and away from her body so I was forced to cower beside her, warm urine puddling around my genitals as I awkwardly shifted from foot to foot. I was somewhat relieved when Aunty Cath threw open the front door to reveal Bonnie's best friend Tammy, standing on the porch. My eyes widened when I took in her appearance, and when Tammy spied my pretty pink gingham outfit and my bulging baby-pink rumba panties, her tentative smile grew broader.

The pretty petite blonde looked amazing today! She had made up her face the way Bonnie had done the day we went to the park, although less expertly. Tammy's big brown eyes looked huge, framed by long, fluttering black lashes. Her delicate eyebrows were high and arched, giving her gorgeous face a look of innocent, child-like wonder. I couldn't tell if she was wearing lipstick or just lip-gloss on her naturally rosy-pink lips, but her mouth looked puffy and pouted forward, like she'd been sucking a dummy all day. Her honey-blonde hair had been centre-parted and tied up in two high bouncy pigtails either side of her head like mine, and bound with fluffy pink hair bands that looked so cute! Tammy was wearing a sleeveless pink baby doll frock that was so short, I could almost see the crotch of her panties. Her dress was made from soft, pastel-pink brushed cotton, with a pattern of darker little pink hearts all over, gathered in pleats below the high bustline to fall in gentle flowing folds over her hips. It had a wide round neckline with an exaggerated white Peter Pan collar, with a huge fluffy pastel-pink satin bow tied at the front. From the way her small bosoms kept the floppy bow proudly upthrust, I suspected Tammy had to be wearing one of her padded bras today. On her feet she wore some juvenile, frilly white anklet socks, and a sweet pair of brand-new, single-buckle, black patent Maryjanes.

"Hello Mrs Jones," Tammy cheerfully greeted my Aunt, as she stepped inside the house. "Hi Baby Jennie, and hello Mrs R. Hey Bonnie!"
"Hello Tammy. My, don't you look… sweet, today?" Aunty Cath gently teased her, after we all murmured our greetings. The beautiful blonde looked radiant at the back-handed compliment, and she proudly twirled in front of us to show off her outfit. I wondered if she knew we could all see the thick white cotton panties wrapped snugly around her firm young curves. I even caught a thrilling glimpse of a little flower decorating the front of her panty crotch, just above the gusset. I wished I could press my own humid nappy front against my sensitive swelling clittie. I wriggled my bound wrists in front of my bosom and my trapped fingers writhed in frustration.

"Thanks, Mrs Jones! Do you like it?" Tammy’s enthusiastic question seemed to be directed more at Bonnie than her mother, and I turned towards my cousin just in time to see the changing expressions on her face. It seemed as though Bonnie was mildly embarrassed by her friend's deliberate attempts to dress like a small child, yet I recognised the lustful gleam in those huge golden eyes. I watched her lick her painted pink lips that had suddenly gone dry, and then her expression turned blank - like a poker player holding a pair of aces. I ducked my eyes down and bowed my head when my cousin’s face turned towards where I cowered beside her.
"Your outfit… It looks a bit… juvenile," Aunty Cath hesitantly commented, although she was still smiling broadly. My Mummy seemed to be nodding in agreement, although she too, wore a broad indulgent smile for the inexplicable behaviour of teenage girls.

"Oh, the 'little-girl look' is all the rage at the moment," Tammy blithely explained, grinning at Bonnie's suddenly bemused expression. "All the pop stars are doing it in their video clips."
"Is that so?" Aunty Cath drawled, her arched eyebrows creeping up her normally-smooth forehead in disbelief.

"Half the mannequins in the mall are wearing something like this, and these shoes and socks are brand-new," Tammy proudly declared, daintily pointing one gleaming black patent toe like a petite fashion model. I admired the way the elaborate lace frills danced attractively around her slender ankle. She didn't bother mentioning that her feet were small enough that she could - and regularly did - shop in the children's shoe section.
"That's true," Bonnie confirmed, although her smile seemed a little strange. "Watch half an hour of MTV, Mum. You'll see for yourself." She nodded her head in the direction of her bedroom. "Come on, Tammy. Come to my room," she softly ordered her dainty little friend, and with an apologetic smile for us, the gorgeous blonde followed my buxom cousin down the hallway.

My mesmerised eyes followed Tammy's perky little bottom as she gaily skipped away after Bonnie, until I was distracted by a firm tug on the baby reins. "Did you hear that, Baby Jennie? You must be the height of fashion, little girl!" My Aunt's mocking laughter rang loudly in my burning red ears. "Come on, Baby Jennie," Aunty Cath sang invitingly. "Come into the garage and see all the exciting new things Aunty has in store for you." She led us down a short hallway at right angles to the front door and the main hallway. I shuffled awkwardly along behind Aunty, my wrists still clipped to my toddler harness. We had to wait while she unlocked the door to the garage, and before she stepped inside, she reached around the doorframe to switch on the light. Aunty Cath has a spacious three-car garage, although I could only ever remember seeing one car parked inside. Her black BMW sedan gleamed brilliantly under the bright neon lights, but that wasn't what captured my attention.

Almost half the normally-empty space had been filled with pastel-pink painted furniture. There was an enormous steel crib, with barred sides that appeared about four feet high. It looked like something out of a hospital ward for the insane, except for the feminine colour. There was a highchair made from tubular pink-painted steel, too, with an attached hinged tray that looked huge. My delicately-plucked eyebrows crawled higher up my forehead when I saw the pink baby stroller Aunty and Mummy had obviously been discussing the previous day. It looked like a slightly larger version of a regular toddler's stroller, with large twin white rubber wheels at the end of each leg. Either side of the low, pink-and-white striped canvas seat, I could see the dangling, darker-pink, nylon webbing straps which could be used to restrain the occupant. There was a steel-legged change table too, only a little larger than the one at home, but the padded top had a pastel-pink vinyl cover decorated with pictures of all the cartoon Disney Princesses. Aunty pointed towards a collection of pink-painted steel bars lying against the far wall. "That's the playpen I was telling you about. It needs to be reassembled, and it's quite heavy. And there's a toddler's car seat over there somewhere, too."

Mummy walked around touching the cold steel furniture, a look of uncertainty on her face. Aunty Cath unfastened the reins from the back of my harness and I wobbled unsteadily, unsure whether I should drop to my hands and knees. The decision wasn't mine to make, because Aunty twirled me around and grabbed me about the waist, and gave a small grunt of effort as she lifted me backwards into the highchair. Unfamiliar with the new arrangements, I banged my left elbow on the raised tray, and gave a shrill girlish squeal of pain. My Aunty ignored my cries of distress and pressed me back in the roomy seat, so she could lower and lock the tray in place. Only then did she unclip my wrists from the D-rings of my leather toddler harness, commanding snidely; "Oh stop sooking, you sissy cry-baby! Suck your dum-dums and give your elbow a rub."

The seat was heavily padded and covered with hot-pink vinyl, which stuck moistly to my bare thighs when I wriggled about in pain. It wasn't as tall as my normal highchair, and although my searching toes couldn't reach the floor, there was no place to rest my feet. I let my legs flop and sway uselessly between the chair legs, unaware that I looked even more child-like swinging my feet like a tiny toddler. Although not as tall, the chair was much larger than the one at home. It was wider and deeper, and the back was higher, too. I felt more like a small child sitting in a too-large, grown-up's seat. The hinged metal tray sat higher in front of me, as well, so that it almost came up to my chin. It had cartoon pictures of a smiling Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, and Ariel the mermaid decorating it. I knew I must look like a real baby girl sitting in a toddler's highchair, and the grins on both women's faces told me they found my appearance highly amusing.

Aunty Cath indicated the pink nylon strap dangling between my legs. "There is a crotch strap, with a loop for the waist strap." She fed the appropriate webbing band through the loop between my thighs, and then let the pink nylon straps drop. "It feeds through a slot in the back of the chair - see here - and attaches to this plastic clip in the back. Even though the clip is very simple to lock and unlock, it requires two hands to do it. Baby won't be able to reach it with both hands, let alone one. The restraining belts on the stroller do up the same way. Here, let me show you." They left me sitting in the highchair and walked over to the stroller, crouching beside it while Aunty explained the intricacies of the restraining mechanisms. I sat there resentfully plucking at the darker pink lace trimmings on my humiliating bibbie, staring in wonder at the collection of oversized, pink-painted Nursery furniture.

When Mummy stood in front of the change table examining it a few minutes later, she still seemed hesitant. "I'm not sure all this stuff will fit in my Nursery," she prevaricated, as she softly patted the thickly padded, vinyl-covered top.
"Of course it will!" Aunty Cath enthusiastically overrode her objections. "Especially when you move Angelica into her own room. She's a big girl now - practically toilet-trained. She deserves to have her own room."
"I- I just don't know," Mummy haltingly replied, as she raised and lowered the high side rail of the steel crib to check the locking mechanism.
"Angelica told me she was sick and tired of waking up in the same room as a stinky poopy baby," Cath spitefully added, with a meaningful glance in my direction. I cringed in shame at the disdain I could see in those cold emerald eyes.

Mummy turned to look at my blushing pink face, too, and she grimaced as she nodded in agreement. "Yes, Angie mentioned the same thing to me yesterday, too." Before she could say anything more embarrassing, there was a series of distant knocks on the front door, and then the doorbell chimed loudly inside the garage.
Aunty Cath stepped over to the source of the ringing - an intercom attached to the wall next to the door to the hallway. She pushed a button and demanded, "Yes? Who is it?"

The tinny response came back. "Two men and a truck. We're the removalists you booked for midday on Friday."
"Oh good, you're on time. Park your truck in front of the garage, please. All the stuff we need to move is in there." She switched off the intercom and turned to my mother. "They're here to move this furniture over to your place, and set it all up."
"But Cath!" Mummy protested. "I can't afford-"
"Don't worry about a thing," Aunty Cath briskly overrode her objections, as she pushed the button to open one of the garage doors. The heavy steel door swung up and away with a mechanical grinding noise, and I could see a two-ton truck backing up the concrete driveway. "I'm paying for them to not only take this stuff to your place and set it up, but to move Angie's furniture around, too. They'll rearrange your whole house, if you want them to."
"But-"
"Stop worrying, sis! It's all on me! You know I can afford it," Aunty Cath laughed dismissively, waving away her younger sister's feeble objections.

The bright sunlight hurt my eyes, so I covered my face with my hands and let the light filter through the cracks between my fingers. I heard a booming masculine voice say, "Hello ladies. My, she's a shy little thing, isn't she? Is this the furniture you want us to move, Ma'am?" I realised he was talking about me, and gradually let my hands drop to reveal my blushing pink cheeks.
"Yes, all these pink pieces," Aunty indicated with a broad smile and a wave of her hand, "and that white wicker rocking chair up the back, too."

The tanned removalist cast an expert eye over the collection of big baby furniture, and said, "We can probably take it all in one load. Except for maybe the highchair." He gave a short barking laugh. "It looks like it's in use at the moment, anyway."
"That will be fine," Aunty Cath reassured the tall gangly man. He was dressed in green shorts and worn blue singlet, and for some reason, Connie's little ditty popped into my head; 'Blue and green should never be seen, without a colour in between.' He looked between forty and fifty, with wiry grey hair all over his sunburned arms and legs. "My daughter can fit the highchair in the back of her car, and she can take it over later. Just pack everything else, and we'll drive over with you and show you where to put it. It's only a five-block journey."
"Fair enough," grunted the balding old man, motioning his younger assistant towards the other end of the tall steel crib.

Mummy looked as though she had been caught up in a tidal wave. Events were no longer under her control, and she finally quit protesting. Aunty Cath briskly strode into the hallway, calling over her shoulder to my mother; "I'll just ask Bonnie to keep an eye on your Baby Jennie while we go over to your place, Isy. I need to set up something in her bedroom before we go, too." She disappeared from view, yelling to her youngest; "Bonnie! Bonnie, I need you to look after the baby for a little while…" Her voice trailed away and I turned to glance at my mother once more, but she looked like she had given up all hope of resisting her bossy big sister.

The moving men were brisk and efficient as they loaded the stuff onto their truck. I noticed the tousle-haired young assistant kept sneaking glances in my direction. Because I was sitting so low in the huge seat, I felt sure he couldn't see the embarrassing words printed on my shameful pink bibbie. But he must have been able to see the wide bulging crotch of my shiny pink rumba panties, and I couldn’t clamp my thighs closed to conceal my shameful infantile underwear. I wondered if they could tell that my nappy was wet? My cheeks turned pink with embarrassment, and I huddled dismally in the humiliating highchair, trying not to meet the burly teen’s bemused brown eyes whenever he glanced my way. Mummy walked away to follow her big sister inside the house, but a few minutes later Aunty Cath returned on her own, clutching a big pink baby bottle full of the familiar green-tinged water. She nodded in approval when she saw everything had already been loaded, and handed the bottle to me with that familiar, shark-like smile.

"Here baby girl, drink up," Cath urged, her cruel smile broadening when I spat out my dum-dums and obediently stuck the clear silicon nipple between my lips. I tilted my bottle up high and sucked hard on the teat as she pushed the button to lower the garage door. "We'll be back in a little while, Baby Jennie," Aunty crooned, giving me a little wave. "The girls will keep an eye on you. You just sit there and behave in that highchair, and drink up that bottle like a good little baby girl for Aunty Cath. Okay, sweetie? Good girl!" She chuckled at the reproachful pout she could detect around the gurgling teat in my mouth, and disappeared down the hallway without bothering to close the door behind her.

I heard my mother call from the front door, "Mummy will be back soon, Baby Jennie. Be good now." She didn't bother coming into the garage to give me a hug or a kiss goodbye. I slumped dispiritedly in the roomy highchair seat, and when I felt a fresh burst of heat around my genitals, I perversely relished the soothing comforting warmth splashing around my clittie and ball sack, before soaking into my damp nappies under my bum. I sucked mint-flavoured water through the tiny hole in the bottle teat, cool liquid trickling down my throat as hot urine dribbled uncontrollably from my tiny tool. As the wonderful warmth slowly seeped under my botty cheeks, I wriggled around in infantile satisfaction, slurping noisily on the silicon teat. It wasn't my fault I had to wet my nappy! I'm just a helpless baby girl, trapped in this stupid highchair. I can't help it…

As I wiggled about on my frill-laden bottom, I unintentionally slid forward on the highchair's padded seat. The pink nylon outer layer covering the plastic panties beneath made everything kind of slippery, and the tray was mounted so high, my slender body actually slipped underneath. Because Aunty had neglected to fasten the waist belt after looping it through the crotch strap, there was nothing to stop me from sliding out of the highchair. I snatched the huge pink bottle from my lips before it banged against the tray and injured my mouth, ignoring the green drops splashing on my humiliating baby bib. As my head passed under the tray, I felt the toes of my pink sneakers brushing against the concrete floor, and with a muted cry of freedom, I awkwardly dropped to my feet. I leaned against the highchair’s heavy steel leg to steady myself, and gazed around the roomy garage uncertainly. I pressed my dum-dums into my mouth and sucked hard on the amber rubber teat for reassurance, clutching the almost-full bottle to my trembling body with my other hand.

I waddled into the hallway and slid my free hand along the wall to help maintain my balance. The jingling bells reminded me I was still wearing the humiliating pink patent baby bracelets. I paused to unbuckle the wrist restraints, and quietly placed them on the beige broadloom carpet. I left my bottle there too, placing it carefully upright on the carpet so it wouldn't spill. Even though I knew it was a crazy risk, I shuffled as soundlessly as I could down the main hallway, towards Bonnie's bedroom. I assumed she was in there playing with her gorgeous little girlfriend, and my clittie grew painfully hard inside the confines of my deliciously drenched diaper when I contemplated what the daring damsels might be doing together.

I loitered outside Bonnie's bedroom door listening intently, and could barely hear the dull murmur of feminine voices from the other side. Unfortunately, I couldn't see anything when I peeped through the keyhole. The key was still in place. I wasn't surprised to find the door locked, and softly released the doorknob. I shuffled as quietly as possible to the next doorway down - April's - and was thrilled to find her bedroom door lying wide open. Her bathroom door was ajar too, and when I crept into the familiar pink-tiled room, I saw that the door opposite leading to Bonnie's bedroom was closed. When I took hold of the knob, I realised my palm was dripping with sweat and my jaw was trembling. I bit down on the teat of my dum-dums to prevent my teeth from nervously chattering, and wiped my moist hand on the front of my absorbent pink terry bibbie. I slowly turned the doorknob, with all the delicacy of a trained safe-cracker. It wasn't locked!

To be continued in chapter 23.

Please leave a comment here if you are enjoying this long-winded sissy-baby story.
Hugs from Baby Jennie

Synopsis; Baby Jennie spies on Tammy and Bonnie while they are playing naughty games in Bonnie's bedrooom.

Chapter 23. Bonnie and Tammy

"I'm glad you dropped down that video before your mum came in and saw it," I heard Tammy giggle. When I opened the bathroom door a fraction of an inch, I saw Bonnie sitting at her desk with her back to me, in front of her computer in the near corner. I didn't notice the video camera sitting on the desk's top shelf, the huge black lens facing the queen-size bed in the centre of the room like an all-seeing eye. I could hear what sounded like someone being painfully spanked coming from the tinny stereo speakers. The sound of each blow was immediately followed by a familiar, high-pitched squeal of pain. I wondered what video they were watching, but then Tammy commented; "That was so hot; watching you spank that sissy baby in real life! But it's like, pretty exciting to watch the replay, too. You know?"

Tammy was standing on my cousin's left side, leaning over her shoulder with her left hand resting on the whitewood desk. Her cute baby doll frock was short to begin with, but when she carelessly bent over from the hips, the flounced hem at the back rode up even higher. I could clearly see her white cotton panties stretched tautly over her curvy little bottom cheeks, and I quietly gasped in delight. There seemed to be a darker, half-moon patch rising from the thick crotch to cover the bottom few inches of her seat. As I watched, I spotted two of Tammy's slender fingers delving between her silky-smooth thighs, and she discretely pressed the damp gusset of her panties into the core of her womanhood with a quiet contented sigh.

Before I could identify it, Bonnie used the mouse to close the video they had been watching. When she abruptly spun around in the office chair and whirled to face Tammy, the beautiful blonde guiltily snatched her fingers from her panty crotch and stumbled back in alarm. "You're a very naughty little girl," I heard Bonnie scold her petite girlfriend, although it didn't sound like her heart was in it. I could almost hear the smile in my cousin's teasing tone as she rose from the swivel chair.
"Who, me? Why Mama?" Tammy insouciantly inquired, as Bonnie stepped past her to sit on the end of her queen-size bed. She disappointingly disappeared from my field of view, and I used the hand that wasn't pressed against my crotch to push open the bathroom door a fraction wider.

"You came over too early," I heard Bonnie complain.
"But Mama," Tammy protested, a look of total innocence on her gorgeous heart-shaped face. "You told me to come over around lunchtime, and it's that now." She moved her right hand to her face and discretely sniffed her fingertips, and I noticed her secretive pleased smile before she stepped closer to my seated cousin.
Bonnie snorted, "I said, 'after lunch.' It's only midday! My mum booked the removalists for twelve noon, you know, and I was pretty sure they'd be packed up and gone in like, half an hour. But you arrived a little early… and dressed like that!" I released the knob and silently pushed open the bathroom door another inch, thankful the hinges were well oiled. "You look like a gorgeous two-year-old, all ready to go to Sunday School!" Bonnie’s condescending tone and description merely made Tammy giggle in delight. The bathroom door began to silently swing open all by itself, and I fearfully clutched the doorknob again, lest my presence be betrayed. I prayed that neither girl was glancing in my direction, and when I caught sight of the two teenagers, my unspoken prayer had been answered.

Bonnie was sitting on the end of her bed, and Tammy was standing directly in front of her, their bare knees touching. The beautiful smiling teens were staring at each other's faces, and fortunately for me, they only had eyes for each other. The pretty petite blonde had the tip of her right index finger pressed between her pursed pink lips, and she was sucking the glossy pink nail as she endearingly twisted her hips from side to side like a small child. I wondered what Tammy’s finger tasted like? I knew where it had recently been! Her short flared baby doll frock twirled high around her hips to show off her high-waisted cotton panties. When I looked at the reflection in the floor-to-ceiling, built-in wardrobe mirrors lining the far wall, I could see there was a big picture of a daisy printed right over her puffy pudenda.

"But Mama," Tammy whined, sounding like the petulant two-year-old she appeared to be. "I thought you'd like my new outfit? I bought it especially to wear for you! And I had to come over early! I wanted to show you my new dress, and my new shoes and socks, and- and- and I needed to go pee-pee," she finished in an excited rush, before drawing in a much-needed breath. "Look," Tammy exclaimed, as she boldly raised the front of her juvenile dress with her left hand to display her thick cotton underwear. "I already wet my pants a little bit, Mama. See?" She patted her damp crotch in indication, and then drew her right hand away and leant her slender hips closer in blatant invitation.

Bonnie didn't need to be asked twice, and she leaned forward and stared intently at the gorgeous blonde's panty crotch mere inches from her nose. I heard my cousin loudly sniff Tammy’s groin a couple of times, and then she grinned. She pressed her thick fingers between her girlfriend's silken spread thighs, before she covered the yellow-and-white flower decorating the front of Tammy's damp cotton panties with the heel of her hand. Then those naughty fingers slid lower under the moist gusset, before boldly pushing the bunched wet material inside the excited blonde's already-dilated opening.

When Tammy moaned quietly at the intimate caress and spread her knees wider, my cousin chuckled and commented; "Oh my, Baby Tammy! Your pretty flower is all wet! Aww! You've wet your panties, haven't you? Perhaps Mama should put you in a nappy straight away, little girl?" Bonnie suggested with a sly teasing smile, her huge golden eyes wide with delicious anticipation.

Tammy covered the bigger girl's hand with both her smaller ones, wantonly pressing Bonnie's thick fingers deeper inside her moist cleft as she squealed, "Oh yes! Yes please, Mama!" After a lingering caress, Bonnie gently pried her fingers loose from her girlfriend's grasp. With an indulgent smile, she stood to tower over the tiny jiggling blonde. The statuesque teenager stepped to the side of the bed, before kneeling to remove the huge brown suitcase concealed underneath. She had her back to me, and I thought Bonnie's big curvaceous bum under her baggy shortalls looked much plumper than usual, for some reason. And while my cousin normally had voluptuous, wide, child-bearing hips, they seemed even broader today. "I've been trying to hold it for ages, Mama," Tammy confessed with a wicked smile, pressing her cupped fingers over her damp groin while performing her little potty-dance.

"Seeing as you've already wet those pants a bit - you naughty little girl - you can just leave them on," Bonnie informed her willing charge with mock-severity. I noticed Tammy closed her eyes and shuddered at the stern admonition. My grinning cousin spread a plain white cotton, plastic-backed change mat on the queen-size bed. "Come on," she urged the beautiful blonde, patting the centre of the rustling mat in invitation. "Lie down here on your back for Mama, Baby Tammy." The gorgeous little teenager climbed onto the change mat with a cheeky grin, and she gathered the hem of her flounced pink baby doll frock up around her small bust before she lay back.

I caught a glimpse of the bottom of her push-up bra, and it was all shiny white lace, with a dainty pink satin rosebud stitched between the stiff padded cups. The huge baby-pink satin bow decorating Tammy's dress collar covered her face for a few annoying seconds, until she sputtered in irritation and impatiently pushed it out of the way. Bonnie removed her petite friend's gleaming Maryjanes first, and when she raised one slender calf to unbuckle the classic black patent shoe, I could clearly see the dark wet stain anointing the thick white cotton crotch stretched tautly between Tammy's smooth sculpted thighs. There was a growing dark-yellow, half-moon patch either side of the damp gusset, and I thought I caught a glint of moisture in the bright sunlit bedroom.

As soon as Tammy's shiny black shoes had been cast aside, Bonnie softly ordered, "Lift your bum, darling." She slid a thick pink terrycloth nappy under the smaller girl's damp panty bottom, and made sure it was positioned correctly before ordering her to drop. The hourglass-shaped nappy looked identical to the one Tammy had worn to the park with me the other day, made from two thick layers of absorbent, double-sided terry-towelling, with another two oval layers of soaker pads sewn into the wide crotch. Bonnie swiftly pulled the front flap up between Tammy's wide-splayed thighs, regrettably covering her delectable damp panty crotch with the multiple layers of fluffy pink towelling, and then she drew one side flap around and pinned it in place. After the second pin had been clasped in the other side, Bonnie released the first pin, and then tugged the nappy even tighter around the smaller girl's tiny waist. "There," my cousin grunted in satisfaction, after she refastened the first pin yet again. She slipped her fingers inside the waistband and gave the diaper a firm tug, to check how securely she'd pinned it.

"Gosh Mama!" Tammy whined a trifle sulkily. "It's a bit tight."
"Well, we don't want baby's nappy falling down when it's wet! Do we, sweetheart?" Bonnie responded with a saucy smile, as she noisily shook some translucent pink plastic pilchers inside-out. I felt another weird thrill of excitement when I realised they were identical to the baby panties I’d been wearing earlier this morning. It was almost like Baby Tammy was wearing my used panties! I knew I'd love to try on some of her worn panties! "Mama knows what a heavy wetter you are, darling. Mama knows best." Bonnie fed her hands through the waistband and poked one out each leg hole, then grasped Tammy's sock-covered toes. In moments the crackling plastic panties were whisked up her raised legs and turned the right way out, and then Bonnie commanded, “Lift your bum, darling.” As soon as the smaller girl obeyed, my cousin tugged the wetproof pilchers over her girlfriend's huge pink diaper package, making sure the elasticised waistband covered the absorbent cloth front and back. "And down, baby," Bonnie smoothly ordered, her full pink-painted lips drawn back in a pleased smile.

When Tammy's big padded bum noisily dropped onto the crackling change mat, she giggled happily. Bonnie forced the beaming girl's tanned thighs wide before tucking the tight elastic leg bands safely up underneath the bulging crotch of her fluffy pink nappy. Satisfied the wetproof panties wouldn't leak, my buxom cousin grinned down at her petite diapered friend, and patted the taut plastic panty crotch stretched between Tammy's wide-splayed thighs. Bonnie's swatting fingers made that erotic crisp smacking sound, causing my sensitive swollen clittie to automatically grow stiffer inside the confines of my own deliciously damp diaper. "Oh Mama," Tammy sighed in pleasure, wiggling her little feet in the air like a happy baby, making the delicate white lace frills around her slender ankles tremble attractively. I sighed at the wonderful sight, cupping my hand over my warm wet nappy and pressing my hot stiff clittie harder against my tummy. She asked, "Mama?"

"Yes, Baby Tammy?" Bonnie responded in a playful inquiring tone, her patting fingers continuing to caress her girlfriend's sensitive damp vulva through the thick fluffy nappy and rustling baby panties. "What is it, darling? Tell Mama," she crooned tenderly.
"Oh Mama, that was so nice… You know? When you changed my wet nappy the other day," Tammy hesitantly began, maintaining her innocent, sweet, little-girl tone. She let her legs drop and placed the soles of her feet together on the change mat, drew her heels up towards her padded crotch, and spread her slender brown thighs as wide as she could. She batted her long black lashes at her grinning girlfriend and pouted so prettily, Bonnie had to laugh.

"Yes baby,” Bonnie chuckled. “You were such a wet little girl for Mama after our trip to the park, weren't you?"
"Yes Mama. And- and when you changed my wet nappy, and like, cleaned me up-"
"My little girl got all excited when Mama had to clean her wet little kitten, didn't she?" Bonnie interrupted her with a gentle teasing grin, her fingers pressing harder into the crotch of Tammy's thick nappy.
"Yes Mama," Tammy admitted, her cheeks blushing warmly, although her big brown eyes were glowing with lust. "I did!"

Bonnie's fingers were no longer patting the plastic panties covering her girlfriend's crotch. They were delving into a narrow furrow created in the soft fluffy nappy by her insistent rubbing actions. Tammy's bowed knees began to sway in time to the increasingly forceful caresses. "Did my little girl like it, when Mama made sure her pretty little kitten was kissing-sweet clean?"
"Oh yes Mama, yes!" Tammy gasped, her pelvis beginning to rock as she greedily thrust her diapered crotch against her girlfriend's probing fingers. "That was the best!"
"That's good," purred Bonnie, smiling seductively and pressing even harder.

She leaned over the gorgeous blonde and her huge hanging teats poked out either side of the bib of her baggy shortalls. The laden bra cups under her t-shirt slid erotically over the smaller girl's exposed, flat brown stomach, till they bumped against Tammy's padded brassiere. Bonnie gave her girlfriend's sweet mouth the softest of kisses, their pursed lips barely touching. Then the kiss turned passionate, their mouths opening wide as Bonnie gently forced her searching tongue between the smaller girl's pretty pink lips. After a minute she drew her face back, and almost breathed her next words into Tammy's waiting open mouth. "I'm glad my little baby girl liked that; because today, it's Tammy's turn to look after Mama!" She grabbed the petite girl's hands and unexpectedly tugged her to her feet, and the gorgeous diapered blonde frowned at having her own session of pleasure rudely interrupted.

Tammy stood with her tiny stockinged feet splayed childishly wide due to the bulk of cloth trapped between her smooth brown thighs. Her big padded bum inside the puffy pink baby panties looked adorable, especially poking out so blatantly beneath the hem of her too-short baby doll frock. I rubbed my fingers harder over the slithering nylon front of my pink rumba panties, where I could feel the bulge of my throbbing erection even through the many damp layers. I caressed my stiff clittie through the soggy warmth that sweetly swaddled me, almost breathless with excitement. Like Tammy, I watched intently from my place of concealment as Bonnie unfastened the metal clips securing the shoulder straps to the bib of her loose shortie overalls. The high bib front dropped to reveal her massive bosom bulging out the front of her baggy white t-shirt. The candy-striped shortalls slowly slid down her voluptuous frame, but caught around her wide womanly hips. Bonnie grimaced in annoyance and then impatiently pushed them down, to reveal a sagging pink terry nappy contained inside a pair of frosty white plastic panties.

"Mama! You're wearing a nappy!" Tammy cried, clapping her little hands together and bouncing up and down on the spot in delight. "And you're wet, too!"
"Yes baby," Bonnie agreed with a lascivious smile, as she carelessly kicked aside the candy-striped shortalls with one bare foot. She raised the hem of her baggy white t-shirt to show off her wet diapered condition, and crisply patted her soggy crotch through the noisy plastic panties. "Mama has a wet nappy, and she needs her little girl to change her."
"Ooo Mama! I'm wetting my nappy, too!" The gorgeous blonde squealed in excitement, and cupped one hand under the crotch of her shiny pink baby panties. She shuffled closer and removed her naughty paw, so Bonnie could reach across and feel her nappy crotch growing heavier, too. As my diapered cousin eagerly cupped her palm under the peeing girl's plastic-sheathed groin, the beautiful blonde simultaneously slid her hand between Bonnie's plump spread thighs. Tammy looked radiant as she pressed her fingers into the warm folds of Bonnie's saggy wet nappy. The two seventeen-year-olds stood there unmoving for a few moments, frozen like diapered statues in a beautiful erotic tableau.

Tammy gave a high girlish giggle and exclaimed, "Gosh Mama! Your nappy is saturated! How many wee-wees did you do in it?"
"I already did two big wetties in my nappy this morning," Bonnie shyly confessed, smiling down at her tiny interrogator, who was assessing the warm wet weight between her splayed thighs.
Tammy hefted the sagging crotch in her cupped palm in estimation. "Only two wee-wees? They must have been big ones," Tammy guessed, squeezing her friend's soggy crotch experimentally, her big brown eyes wide.

"They were!" Bonnie confirmed, trying not to look pleased with herself - and failing miserably. "That's why I need you to change me real soon, you know? I want to wet again soon, but I don't want to like, leak everywhere. Ooo! I can feel your nappy getting all warm between your legs, Tammy!"
"Mmmm! Doesn't it feel wonderful!" Tammy moaned, and she shuddered with arousal when Bonnie pressed the warm wet cloth more firmly against her sensitive gushing urethra.
"It sure does," Bonnie fervently agreed, and she removed her hand from her girlfriend's warming nappy crotch with obvious reluctance. "Come on, baby. I really need that nappy change." The voluptuous babe clambered backwards onto the bed, arranging herself so that she was lying with her saggy wet bottom right in the middle of the protective change mat.

"Mama, I need you to take off your top and your bra, first," Tammy bossily insisted. Bonnie looked slightly puzzled by the smaller girl's firm tone, but obediently sat up. She removed her baggy white t-shirt to reveal an enormous, plain-white cotton brassiere. "Come on. Your bra, too," Tammy urged, unsuccessfully trying to suppress a grin.
My cousin frowned momentarily as she somewhat reluctantly reached behind her back with both hands, to unfasten the many rear clasps of her enormous E-cup bra. Her actions made her huge bosom thrust out proudly, and I began to salivate heavily, like one of Pavlov's trained dogs. "Why do you want me to remove my bra, sweetie?" Bonnie coyly inquired, even as she slid the wide shoulder straps down her arms. Her enormous tanned bosoms flopped and swayed heavily when released from the confines of her underwire support bra, and my eyes were drawn to the succulent russet buds crinkling erect in excitement, even as I watched.

"I'm going to change your nappy, so that means for the moment - I'm in charge," Tammy tartly announced, although it sounded like she was trying to convince herself, rather than my domineering chestnut-haired cousin. Bonnie merely smiled indulgently as she tossed aside the massive bra and lay back. Each melon-sized breast shifted to either side of her chest. I realised I was drooling heavily around the amber rubber teat of my dum-dums at the sight of those delectable, thimble-sized caps. A trickle of warm spittle dribbled unheeded down my chin, before finally dripping down my front. Lucky I was wearing a bibbie! "Besides," Tammy confessed, her big brown eyes sparkling with mischief, as she reached over to gently pinch one of those tasty russet nipples with the tips of her glossy pink fingernails. "I love your big titties, Mama. I want to have a little suck on your juicy nips later too, you know?"

Bonnie inhaled sharply at the possessive intimate touch and after a few moments, she brushed the cheeky grinning girl's hand aside. She cupped her sagging bare breasts with her large hands and pressed them together to form a massive inviting cleavage, while squeezing both russet caps between her thumbs and forefingers until they visibly swelled. The buxom brunette grinned at her tiny friend's delighted open-mouthed response, and then spread her feet and raised her bum so Tammy could tug down her glistening white plastic panties.

The gorgeous blonde carelessly tossed the dripping baby pants on the floor, and turned back to her bigger charge with a tender smile. "Gosh, it's a good thing you have like, a wetproof change mat underneath you," Tammy teased, as she unfastened the pink-capped baby pins holding Bonnie's nappy together. "You're so drenched, you would have left a wet patch on your bedspread, you know?" She slowly lowered the heavy front of Bonnie's saturated pink nappy, like she was trying to make the moment last. Her gasp of surprise made me want to see, too, but from my hiding place in the bathroom, I couldn't quite see the object of Tammy's reverent fascination until she let the nappy front drop. "Oh Mama! Your… your kitten! You haven't got any hair down there!" I stood on tippy-toes, and managed to catch a glimpse of Bonnie's hairless, puffy, pouting pink nether lips, before my cousin delicately covered her baby-smooth front bottom with one large hand.

"Yes baby," Bonnie murmured shyly in reply. For a moment I thought my beautiful cousin looked embarrassed, but I must have been mistaken. "After my mum caught me trimming April's bush all those years ago, she said she would solve that little problem for us, once and for all. She took us to the beauticians, and had both our pubes permanently removed using laser electrolysis. So no more fur down there – forever!"
Tammy gently removed the bigger girl's hand and replaced it with one of her own. "Oh Mama! Your hairless little kitten looks so sweet!" She stroked the puffy feminine mound with an adoring, feather-light touch. "And it feels so baby-smooth! I wonder if I should try-"
"Now, now, Baby Tammy! Your pubic muff is so blonde and fine, I wouldn't think you'd ever need to tidy it up. You have the prettiest little kitten, baby," Bonnie reassured the pouting blonde teenager. "I wouldn't change it for the world!"

Tammy leaned her face in closer to the hairless juncture of Bonnie's smooth fleshy thighs and inhaled loudly. "No, Mama. Yours is so sweet, and it smells all wonderfully wet and pissy…" I thought Tammy would have been revolted by the overpowering ammonia smell, seeing my cousin was still lying atop her soggy wet nappy. But it looked like Tammy was trying to press her button nose right into the humid crevice where damp flesh met saturated cloth. "Mmm, Mama!" I didn't see Tammy's tiny pink tongue dart between the moist folds of my cousin's pungent vagina, but I heard Bonnie's sharp intake of breath at the delicate fluttering caress and saw her visibly shudder.

"Don't you want to clean me up first?" Bonnie hesitantly suggested, but I could clearly detect the arousal in her shaky voice. Then despite her words, her knees drew up and her fleshy brown thighs flopped wider apart in blatant invitation. She moaned lustily, "Ooo Tammy!"
"No Mama," Tammy cheekily insisted, although her words were partially muffled by Bonnie's plump womanly thighs. "I want to clean you up with my tongue, first. Like a Mumma cat cleans up her kittens," she purred between long languid licks.
"Oh Tammy! What a good little girl you're being for Mama! Ooo!"

I realised my hand was already delving inside my warm wet nappy, and I grabbed my hard little clittie and stroked it in feverish arousal. My knees were bent and my wide-splayed legs were trembling with excitement. There was more room inside my tightly-pinned nappy, now that it was all soggy and wet, like Bonnie's. I was grateful for the extra play room inside the humid warmth as I began to furiously pump my rock-hard tool. I rubbed my clenched fist up and down the slippery wet shaft, quivering with arousal and biting my dummy teat in an attempt to quieten my ragged breathing. Tammy climbed onto the bed between Bonnie's splayed legs, kneeling with her face buried in her girlfriend's glistening hairless crotch. Her big diapered bum poked out temptingly at me, and she waggled her damp padded rear from side to side as she greedily licked Bonnie's puffy pink slit.

Tammy abruptly knelt up, and I could see from the frustrated expression on her beautiful face reflected in the mirror, that something wasn't right. "This bow is in the way," she complained, plucking at the elaborate satin bow decorating the collar of her juvenile frock. She grabbed the wide-flared hem and tugged the silky cotton baby doll gown over her head, revealing her pretty white push-up bra with the delicate lace-covered cups. She cast her frock aside, and the heavy plastic-sheathed padding around her hips and bum merely exaggerated the delicacy of the slender waistline above.

"Take your cheater bra off, too, sweetie," Bonnie urged the kneeling girl with an indulgent smile. "Mama wants to see your cute little titties, too." Despite a flickering frown of annoyance, Tammy reached behind her back with both hands and obediently unhooked her lace-lavished bra. She slid her last grown-up garment from her lithe young frame with a joyous laugh. Her perky little breasts hardly dropped at all when she removed the heavily-padded bra, although I noticed her tiny pink nipples were like hard little pencil erasers, already crinkled erect with excitement. "That's better," cooed Bonnie approvingly, before giggling cheekily and pointing between her spread legs. "Now get that little tongue of yours back inside Mama's kitten where it belongs, little girl."

Tammy eagerly pressed her face between Bonnie's plump womanly thighs once more, beginning with a series of long slow licks that must have started at my cousin’s wrinkled pink botty-hole. She teased the retracting outer labia further open with her agile tongue, relishing the sweet nectar inside for a minute or two, before slithering wetly all the way to the top of the shivering teen's hairless nether lips. Bonnie's hands jerked spastically into the air, her long fingers splayed wide, and she gave a sharp cry of pleasure when the gorgeous blonde's pointed pink tongue gently circled her sweet spot. One hand dropped to rest on top of Tammy's honey-blonde hair, and it looked like my brunette cousin was trying to resist the temptation to press the smaller girl's face deeper into the juncture of her broad womanly thighs. "Oh yes, Tammy! Mmm! Oh yeah! Lick me there…. Ooo!" Bonnie moaned, "Oh yeah, honey! That's it. Just touch my clit with the tip of your tongue. Unh, ohhh! Oh yeah." Bonnie's voluptuous frame twitched and shuddered, and then her throaty voice took on a more pleading tone. "Oh baby! Gently! Ooo! Gently… Lick it gently… Gently, baby…. Ohhh! Oh God!"

Bonnie let her other hand fall onto Tammy's bobbing head, and she grabbed the kneeling girl's short honey-blonde pigtails as though to direct her tongue more precisely. She used the pigtails like reins on a familiar, well-ridden pony, deftly steering the gorgeous blonde's movements to increase her pleasure. I watched Tammy slide her left hand between the supine girl's inner thighs, but I couldn't see her gently pry open Bonnie’s swollen inner labia with one glossy pink fingernail, to reveal the rosy pink flesh inside glistening moistly with arousal. The kneeling teen slowly wiggled her stiffened index finger all the way inside Bonnie's slippery wet kitten, while delicately strumming her girlfriend’s erect clitoris with the tip of her tiny pink tongue. "Yes, baby, yes!" My buxom cousin bit her bottom lip and tossed back her head, her eyelids clenched tightly shut. She writhed on the bed, moaning in the heat of passion. "Oh baby! That's so good… So good…. Oh God!"

Without breaking stride, Tammy slid her petite right hand along her own flat brown tummy, easing it inside the snug elastic waistband of her translucent pink baby panties. With visible difficulty, she wormed her tiny fingers inside her own tightly-pinned cloth nappy. I wondered if her nappy was wet enough yet to make it looser around her waist, like mine. Tammy pressed her knees as far apart on the mattress as she could, forcing my cousin's much longer legs even wider at the same time. The beautiful kneeling blonde's wet nappy and glistening baby panties were drawn more snugly against her pissy crotch by her actions. I could clearly detect her naughty fingers busily dancing inside, making the soggy pink material visibly wiggle and stretch beneath the translucent pink plastic covering. Both girls were moaning with excitement, although Tammy's higher-pitched squeaks were mostly muffled by my cousin's pissy wet pussy lips.

"Oh baby! Don't stop! Don't stop, Baby Tammy," Bonnie pleaded throatily. "I think you're gonna make your Mama cum! Oh! Oh! Ohhh!" Tammy slid a second wiggling digit inside Bonnie's steamy wet opening, and orally attacked her girlfriend's erect clitoris with renewed vigour. The buxom beauty screamed with unrestrained pleasure, and her head began to thrash from side to side. Her silken chestnut pigtails flew across the pink satin bedcover as the throes of an orgasm swept through her voluptuous frame. "Oh God! Oh God! Oh Godogodogodogod!" Her shuddering and moaning continued unabated for at least a minute, and I watched those huge swollen titties wiggle like delicious jellies on a plate. Her hard russet nipples were almost the size of the end joint of my thumb, and I so desperately wanted to pop one in my mouth and suck and suck and suck… Then it looked like Bonnie was trying to force the tiny blonde's face away from her dripping vulva.

"Oh no! No more! Stop, Tammy. Please stop?" Bonnie begged sincerely, her breathless voice shaky. She used her grip on the honey-blonde pigtails to drag the smaller girl's face away from her suddenly-too-sensitive crotch. "Ohhhh!" My cousin's moan sounded deep and satisfied when Tammy's dancing fingers noisily plopped free of her sopping vagina. When the tiny blonde lifted her smiling face, in the mirror I could see there were shiny juices covering her lips, cheeks and chin. "Oh Tammy," After a deep shuddering intake of breath, Bonnie sighed contentedly. "That was wonderful!"
"Mama, your kitten is so wet! It was like the juices squirted out of you when you did your cummie," Tammy giggled happily. She licked her fingers clean, sticking them all the into her mouth, up to the knuckles and noisily sucking them clean, I noticed that her naughty right hand was still playing inside the crotch of her warm wet nappy, as was mine. Her cute padded bum bobbed up and down in time to the increasingly rapid movements of her nimble fingers.

"Mmm," Bonnie languidly agreed, softly patting the kneeling girl's head in an appreciative fond gesture. "Sometimes when Mama does a particularly violent cummie, her juices squirt out everywhere!" She slowly drew in and then released another deep shuddering breath. Her eyelids were half-closed and her satisfied smile looked so sexy! "That's one of the reasons I like to wear a nappy when I masturbate, sometimes. It saves on the clean-up, afterwards, you know?"
"Oh Mama, some of your juices even squirted into my mouth when you did your cummie," Tammy informed her satiated lover with a cheeky grin.
"Did they, sweetie? And what did my Baby Tammy do, when Mama's juices squirted into her mouth?"

The 'naughty-little-girl' expression on Tammy's gorgeous face was breathtaking to behold. Despite her innocent wide brown eyes and her high arched eyebrows, there was a wicked twist to her full smiling mouth. "I did drink them down, Mama!" she confessed with a self-satisfied smile, and then she deliberately licked her shiny wet lips from corner to corner. "I did swallow Mama's juices all down," she giggled like a mischievous two-year-old.

Bonne lifted her head from the mattress so she could stare down at the beautiful girl kneeling subserviently between her gaping thighs. She pressed her palms to Tammy's rosy-pink cheeks, still wet and slimy with her love juices. "Did you, baby? Did you drink down all of Mama's juices?"
"Yes Mama," Tammy proudly boasted, and she opened her pretty mouth wide and impulsively poked out her pale-pink tongue, like a cheeky toddler proving there was nothing left.
"That's so naughty!" Bonnie admonished her, although her pleased smile said something else entirely.

"Yes Mama," Tammy freely admitted, and the dancing rhythm of her fingers inside her damp nappy crotch instantly became more urgent. Suddenly her tiny voice sounded more baby-like. "I'm a naughty little baby, Mama."
"Yes you are, Baby Tammy," Bonnie readily agreed, her sly teasing tone sounding highly erotic to my ears. "You're Mama’s naughty little baby."
"Oh Mama! Yes Mama!" Tammy fingered herself more frantically and gasped, "I'm a naughty baby girl!"

“Me too,” I whispered from my place of concealment, as I fondled my rock-hard clittie.
"Yes you are," Bonnie purred in a tender loving tone. "You’re Mama's naughty baby girl!"
"Ohh Mama! Mama?"
"Yes darling? What is it, my naughty baby girl?"
"Mama! Oh! I think- Ohh! Mama, I think I need to do a poo-poo!"

Bonnie used her elbows to thrust her upper body aright, till she was mostly sitting up on her bed, staring down in horror at the half-naked blonde still kneeling between her splayed legs. "What?" Bonnie demanded, sounding alarmed. "No, no, Tammy! You can't! My mum will be back in like half an hour!"
Tammy simply plunged her face between my cousin's spread thighs by way of response. I couldn't tell if she was pressing her cum-stained lips against my cousin's dripping vagina once more, or if she had buried her face in the pissy wet nappy still bunched under Bonnie's plump curvaceous bottom.

"I can't help it, Mama!" Tammy moaned, or at least, that's what I thought I heard her say. My eyes were riveted to the bobbing rear of Tammy’s wet pink nappy, where the first bulge of a fresh turd was starting to make an appearance. She babbled in high-pitched baby talk, "I'm a bad baby, Mama! I need to do a poo-poo, and I'm doing it in my nappy!" Tammy took a deep breath and held it, and then released it with an explosive cry. I heard a straining, high-pitched fart, which only seemed to confirm her next announcement. "Oh Mama! I'm a dirty bad baby, and I'm doing poo-poos in my nappy!"

Abruptly Tammy stopped speaking and started grunting. It was probably just as well she couldn't see the disgusted frown marring my beautiful cousin's perfectly made-up face. All I could hear were wet farting noises emanating from Tammy's bulging baby panties, before the tiny blonde squeaked and shuddered to a muffled climactic release. “Mama! Mama! Poo-poo! Poo-poo!” she squealed, her face still crammed between Bonnie's splayed thighs. My hand was whipping up and down the pulsating length of my slippery wet shaft inside my soggy nappy, and I knew I was close to cumming too.

My wide-splayed knees began to tremble as I squatted even lower. I reached between my legs with my free hand and rubbed my cupped palm against the slippery nylon cover of my frilly rumba panties. I pressed my warm wet nappy more firmly against my bottom and tried to muffle my excited grunts, as I struggled to poop my nappy in sympathy with the beautiful blonde teenager deliberately soiling her diaper in front of me. A few tiny firm turds thrillingly squirted out of my straining poo-poo hole, to nestle moistly in my warm wet botty crack. At the same time, jolt after jolt of bad baby juice began to spurt from the tip of my swollen clittie. I almost collapsed to my knees from the intensity of my orgasm, and bit harder on my dum-dums to muffle my helpless excited grunts.

"Oh Tammy," Bonnie muttered disdainfully, in that familiar maternal tone of long-suffering. The tall teen swung one long leg over the smaller girl's prostrate body. For one amazing moment I could see my sneering cousin's gaping wet vagina in all its hairless glory; all the way inside her, it seemed to me. I marvelled at the glistening rosy-pink flesh usually hidden from the world inside her swollen labia, before she slid from the bed to stand on shaky legs. Her majestic breasts swayed heavily with her every tiny movement, trembling and sagging from their own weight. She stood naked and proud behind the kneeling girl on the bed, her large right hand softly smacking the distinct bulge poking out the tautly-stretched seat of her girlfriend's baby panties.

"You're a naughty little girl, Tammy! I'm not going to clean you up, you know," Bonnie informed her girlfriend in a much sharper tone. The smacks grew firmer and louder, despite the fact that my cousin's left hand was now cupped over her own swollen damp pussy lips. "You know I don't like dealing with poopy nappies." I tried to control my ragged breathing, and removed my hand from inside my wet nappy with a shuddering sigh. I wiped my palm mostly clean of bad baby juice on the relatively-dry outside front of my nappy, before quietly sliding my hand out of my rustling baby panties.

"Yes Mama, I know," Tammy reluctantly panted, her pretty face still buried in the saturated crotch of Bonnie's well-used nappy. She couldn't see Bonnie's fingers dancing in the childishly hairless slit between her plump womanly thighs, although I recognised the familiar circling movements of those large thick fingers.
"No, little Tammy is going to have to take off her own dirty nappy in the shower outside, in the cabana near the pool. She can rinse it out and clean up out there, so she doesn't stink up the whole house. You're a bad, stinky baby girl!" Despite her harsh words, I saw Bonnie slip one fat finger deep inside her juicy wet opening, and she shuddered as she gathered some fresh lubricant on her fingertip to rub around her erect love-button.

"Yes Mama. I'm bad," Tammy freely conceded, although her muffled voice sounded even more excited. "I'm a naughty, dirty baby." She was speaking just like a naughty little girl, too. I wondered why she didn't withdraw her mouth from the pissy wet nappy bunched around her face. I didn't realise how much she enjoyed burying her nose in the soggy aromatic warmth. I perversely sniffed the combination of baby powder, bad baby juice, and my wee-wees I could detect lingering on my damp hand, revelling in the naughty erotic aromas before wiping dry my sticky fingers with my lace-edged terry bib.

"Yes you are! You're a very naughty, dirty baby girl," Bonnie sternly chastised her, and this time, she sounded like she actually meant it. She began to smack the poo-poo bulge poking out her kneeling girlfriend's panties with even more force, abandoning her masturbatory pleasure to hold out her left hand for balance. Tammy appeared to arch her slender back in response, provocatively sticking out her messy wet bottom for her buxom lover's sadistic attention. She even stuck out her unoccupied left hand near her head, bracing her elbow against the crackling change mat covering the mattress, to prevent her slender body being driven along the bed by the force of the blows. I watched her sniff the hand curled under her nose, visibly relishing the scent of her girlfriend's juicy kitten she could still detect on her glistening fingers.

The loud 'thwack-thwack-thwack' of Bonnie's broad palm striking the damp, tautly-stretched plastic panties was like an erotic symphony to my sensitive ears. I trembled at the rush of mixed emotions the familiar menacing sound invoked. I knew this was my chance to silently creep away, but there was no way I could drag my wide blue eyes from the fascinating scene confronting me. Instead I clutched my warm wet nappy front more firmly against my sensitive clittie, and was startled to find it growing stiffer again already.

"Oh Mama, I was bad! I did a big smelly poo-poo in my nappy," Tammy moaned, sounding like a naughty toddler who deserved much more than a severe scolding. ‘I’m a naughty bad baby!” Despite the guilt and shame I could detect in her tiny muffled voice, her padded bottom perversely rose to meet every firm swat. I noticed her pressing her tiny titties into the cooling wet nappy lying underneath her, too, which made her slender back arch further and her dirty wet bottom poke out more invitingly. Then those fingers that had recently been buried deep inside Bonnie's wet kitten, slipped between Tammy’s perfect pink pouting lips. The naughty baby began sucking off the tasty pussy juice lingering on her fingers, like a hungry toddler slurping on her favourite dummy teat.

I recognised Bonnie's shark-like smile of appreciation for her girlfriend's submissive posturing. "Yes, you naughty baby. You did a nasty big poo-poo in your nap-naps. You're a dirty, bad little girl!" Bonnie's words were stern, and her tone no longer sounded playful. The pace of the spanks slowed, but the sound of each hard smack increased dramatically. "If I had my paddle here, I'd really give your dirty bad bottom a good hard thrashing," she threatened darkly.
"Oh Mama! Yeth Mama!" Tammy defiantly agreed around the sloppy fingers buried in her mouth. My clittie was stiff and hard again inside my wonderfully warm wet nappy, and I rubbed the slithering front of my pink rumba panties over my sensitive swollen erection in mounting excitement.

The slow deliberate smacks on Tammy's bobbing panty bottom grew louder and heavier still, until Bonnie was seriously spanking her beautiful blonde girlfriend's thickly padded bum, each bare-handed blow landing right over the kneeling girl's dirty poo-poo hole - or perhaps an inch lower. I watched entranced as Bonnie's huge tanned tits flopped heavily with every full-bodied swing of her long muscular arm. She growled between each solid spank, "You're a - SMACK! - naughty - SMACK! - dirty - SMACK! - bad - SMACK! - baby!" SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

"Oh yeth, Mama! Yeth! I'm a naughty, dirty bad baby!" Tammy squealed like a penitent schoolgirl, right on the edge of climaxing. The hand inside her poopy wet nappies moved faster and faster, the circling fingers dancing a dervish on her sensitive little clittie. She took a deep breath and held it, and then grunted with effort as she tried to push out more poo-poos, revelling in the decadent taboo acts she was performing in front of her dominant girlfriend. I likewise squatted in my place of concealment and tried to push out some more poo-poos as well, squeezing my stiff clittie through the soggy wet warmth that sweetly cocooned my throbbing hardness.

SMACK! SMACK! "Dirty baby! SMACK! Bad Baby Tammy! SMACK!" Bonnie loudly chastised her prostrate friend with each vicious spank, although her huge golden eyes were glowing with desire. The chestnut-haired Amazon heard the tell-tale-grunts and recognised the straining movement of the kneeling big baby. SMACK! "Look at you! Still doing it!" Bonnie cried in horrified amazement. SMACK! "You're still pooping your panties like a hopeless little baby." SMACK! SMACK! The smacks immediately grew faster and harder still, which didn't seem to deter Tammy one bit. The loud noises covered my own noisy, dummy-muffled grunts of effort, as I wickedly strained to fill my nappies with more hot poo-poos, too. "What a bad little girl! Imagine filling your panties with hot squishy poo-poos like a hopeless big baby. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! What a dirty - SMACK - bad - SMACK - little - SMACK - baby - SMACK - girl - SMACK - you - SMACK - are!" SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Tammy withdrew the fingers from her mouth, ignoring the shiny stream of drool trailing from her lips to her fingertips as she squealed, "Yes Mama! Yes! I'm a dirty, bad little baby! Oh Mama! Mama! Mama!" When the gorgeous little blonde climaxed this time, her orgasm seemed to overtake every particle of her being. All her muscles contracted as one, then momentarily released, before spastically contracting and releasing again and again. She pressed her pretty mouth into the sodden nappy wrapped around her face and shrieked in absolute ecstasy, her little breasts bouncing on the pissy wet wad bunched beneath her torso. The plastic-backed change mat crackled loudly as her tiny stockinged feet thrashed with the intensity of her release. I rubbed my hand up and down over the rustling front of my slippery nylon-covered baby panties, caressing my sensitive pulsating clittie, jealously wondering if I could possibly cum again so soon.

Bonnie maintained her dominant role by finishing with a savage flurry of blows to the plastic-sheathed posterior bouncing above the bed, chastising her recalcitrant charge all the while. "Dirty girl! SMACK! Bad girl! SMACK! Dirty, poopy baby! SMACK! SMACK! Mama is disgusted with you! SMACK! Bad baby! SMACK! Bad baby girl! SMACK! Naughty! SMACK! What a naughty, wicked, dirty little girl!" SMACK! SMACK! The intensity and pace of the blows slowly diminished as her diatribe quietened, until Bonnie was merely patting the remains of the hot messy lump trapped inside the shuddering girl's heavily-soiled underwear. "There, there, baby. There, there," she cooed much more forgivingly.
The petite blonde's excited moans and uncontrollable twitches gradually drew to a shuddering halt, and she finally raised her gorgeous glistening face from the pissy wet nappy and gave a loud contented sigh. "Oh Mama! That was the best!" Tammy gushed, and she wiped cheeks and chin that were still shiny from a combination of Bonnie's wee-wee and her pussy juices.

I suspected the girls would need to clean up soon, and so I reached for the doorhandle and quietly closed the door. My right hand was still clutching the throbbing wet hardness tenting out the front of my frilly rumba panties, and it didn't want to let go. I fearfully backed out of the pink-tiled bathroom in my noiseless pink sneakers, my wide eyes glued to the door to Bonnie's room. As soon as I toddled out past April's bedroom door, I turned and ran - well, waddled quickly - down the hallway towards the front door, as fast as my little legs and my thick wet nappies would allow me. I barely noticed the rush of soothing warmth around my genitals until I stumbled and fell forward onto my hands and knees. I continued crawling as that seemed safest, and shuffled around the corner towards the garage on all fours with a sigh of relief. I collected the jingling pink patent baby bracelets and my baby bottle, thankful it hadn't fallen over or left a green stain on Aunty Cath's expensive beige carpet.

When I reached the garage doorway I clumsily clambered to my feet, staggering across the concrete floor towards the highchair where I knew I belonged. I spat out my dum-dums and sucked hard on the bottle teat, suddenly aware of my raging thirst. A few scant drops of spearmint-flavoured water rewarded my desperate efforts. I shoved the bottle and my pink patent baby bracelets on the wide padded seat first, resting against the solid chair back so they wouldn't fall. Then I unlocked and raised the heavy hinged tray aside, and clawed my way up onto the high seat, and swung around panting with effort. I ignored the lovely warm mushy feeling spreading so exquisitely across my tender botty cheeks, and sat back so I could lower the wide steel tray. It crashed into position so loudly, I feared the noise would alert the girls. I urgently fiddled behind my back and located my bottle and the humiliating punishment bracelets, and then dumped them on the tray. But thirst overcame caution, and I stuck the clear silicone nipple between my pursed lips first, and I sucked for all I was worth.

I sat back holding my baby bottle in both hands, tilting the base high in an effort to suck out the green water a bit faster. I thought about the spectacular erotic scene I had just witnessed, and my sensitive clittie automatically grew stiffer inside the soggy warmth of my poopy wet diaper. When I had drained about half the contents of my huge bottle, it was light enough to easily hold with one hand. I reached down inside the tray with my free right hand. There was plenty of room, and I pressed my palm over the stiffie poking out the front of my drenched diaper. The outer nylon layer slid easily over the rustling thick plastic panties beneath, making a delightful swishing sound. The fresh load of pee-pee I had recently delivered made my nappy all warm again in front, and squishy wet warmth cushioned my bottom, too. I rubbed my stiff clittie harder as I wriggled about in my deliciously-damp, heavily-loaded nappy, perversely enjoying the sensation of my fresh sticky excrement pressing moistly against my sensitive poo-poo hole, my right hand dancing up and down over the tenting front of my pink rumba panties.

To be continued in chapter 24.

Please keep leaving your comments here. I love to read your input.
Baby Jennie

Synopsis; Tammy takes Baby Jennie to the cabana out the back of Aunty Cath's place, where they have to change each other's dirty nappies. CAUTION! This chapter contains graphic scenes of scat play and coprophilia. If you are easily offended, please don't read this chapter.
Baby Jennie

Chapter 24. Twisted By The Pool

I had almost drained my bottle by the time Tammy strolled into the garage to check on me. I discretely moved my busy right hand away from where I had been fondling my stiff clittie through my lovely warm wet nappy. The gorgeous little blonde had tossed Bonnie's baggy white t-shirt over her petite frame, and it hung loosely from her narrow shoulders. Tammy wasn't wearing her usual padded bra, and her stiff nipples poked out temptingly through the thin cotton material. The t-shirt was way too loose on her slender body, and looked more like a shapeless, knee-length dress - except where it was stretched around the bulk of the wet nappy pinned tightly about her hips. Her honey-blonde pigtails hung in loose disarray around her shoulders, and her cheeks and luscious lips appeared rosy with post-orgasmic satisfaction.

The sleepily-smiling teen slowly shuffled over to where I sat in the highchair. Her awkward, wide-legged gait told me she had to wearing a poopy wet nappy - just like me. "Hello baby girl," she cooed as she approached. She picked up the pink patent-leather bracelets lying on the highchair tray. "What are these, Baby Jennie?" Tammy asked, looking mystified.
"My baby bracelets," I mumbled shame-facedly, unable to meet her wide questioning brown eyes.

She gave the delicate patent-leather bands a shake and smiled at the merrily jingling bells, before securely buckling the shiny pink straps around my slender wrists. I passively let her fasten them in place, preoccupied by the throbbing hot stiffie poking out the front of my frilly baby panties. "There!" she smiled in satisfaction. She took my hands and gently shook my arms to hear the bells tinkle, her gorgeous face lighting up like a firework’s display. She really was the most beautiful girl I'd ever met. "That's better! They look really pretty on you, too." With that comment she took my empty baby bottle from my hand and placed it on the floor, then she raised the hinged highchair tray out of the way. Her delicate plucked eyebrows rose and her big brown eyes widened when she realised the pink nylon seat belt hadn't been fastened in place. "My goodness, baby! You could have fallen out and hurt yourself!" Tammy exclaimed with a teasing smile. "Come on, baby girl. Let Aunty Tammy help you down."

She grabbed me around the waist and slid me forward to lift me down, and I felt the moist squishy load in my nappy ooze up towards the small of my back. I hoped my pretty pink dress didn't get soiled, just as I caught a whiff of the stinky contents of Tammy's nappy. I wondered if she could smell that I had recently pooped in my nappy, too. As soon as I was steady on my feet, Tammy reached below the front of my tiered gingham frock, and she rested her cupped palm over the sagging crotch of my pink rumba panties. "Mmm, what a warm wet nappy," she cooed right beside my ear. "What a wet little baby girl!" Apart from the mild dank aroma of her fresh faeces, I could smell her sweet floral perfume, plus a hint of my cousin's secretions lingering on her smiling lips. I trembled with excitement when Tammy pressed the soggy warm material right over my bulging stiff clittie. She kept her hand there, gently cupping my swollen erection as it throbbed and twitched maddeningly inside the wonderful wet warmth.

"Ooo!" She giggled, "Who's an excited, wet baby girl? Hmm?" Her other hand simultaneously crept around to my rear, to caress and pat my frill-laden panty bottom. She slid her hand down over the bulging seat of my rumba panties and pressed the damp material beneath further between my cheeks, to check if I had soiled myself, too. "Have you done anything else in that nap-nap, baby girl?" Tammy asked the question in honeyed baby tones, leaning her shoulders back so she could examine my blushing pink cheeks while she continued inquisitively probing my rear. It didn't take long for her to discover the firm squishy lumps trapped between my messy botty cheeks. She gave a gay laugh and smirked at my fiery red face.

"I did poo-pooth in my nap-napth, Aunty Tammy," I confessed, my cheeks turning a deeper shade of crimson. 'Just like you,' I wanted to cheekily add, but I knew I couldn't reveal that I had being spying on her and Bonnie while they indulged in their erotic lesbian activities.
"Yes, Baby Jennie," Tammy agreed with an indulgent smile. "I can tell." She wiggled her fingertips around in the groove of my soiled buttocks, smearing the moist messy lumps around my damp cheeks. "You did a lovely hot squishy poo-poo in your nap-naps! Didn't you, darling?"

When my face fell and I guiltily nodded, she crisply patted my panty bottom and continued in that same gentle teasing tone; "Mmm, I'll bet that feels nice? All warm and soft and squishy inside that hot wet nappy? Hmm, baby? Doesn't it feel wonderful?" She giggled again when I meekly nodded, and she rubbed her other hand up and down more briskly over the tenting front of my slithering baby panties, until I moaned helplessly in arousal. "Mmm, I know it does," she murmured tenderly in my ear, like she was imparting confidential secrets to her lover. I gasped in excitement as she titillated me front and back through my dirty wet nappy, and I sighed with disappointment when she took her hands away.

Tammy stepped back a pace and raised the hem of her baggy white t-shirt around her deliciously slender waist. "Look, baby!" The gorgeous blonde proudly announced, "I'm wearing a nappy just like you - and I'm wet and messy, too. Just like you!" Her pink terrycloth nappy was sagging from the steel pins clasped over her slender hips, and there was a small amber puddle sloshing in the drooping crotch of her translucent pink plastic panties. "Aunty Tammy is a dirty, wet baby girl, too!" she boasted. She dropped her t-shirt over her sodden swaddling with a pleased smile for my artfully-faked, open-mouthed look of astonishment. "Come on, baby girl. Come outside with Aunty Tammy and you can help her change her dirty nappy. Then she can change our poor wet, stinky Baby Jennie."

She snatched my hand and led me waddling slowly out of the garage into the short hallway, and she collected my pink gingham change bag from beside the front door. There was a bulging, tied white plastic shopping bag in the voluminous vinyl diaper bag. When I spied the soggy pink towelling contents, I suspected it had to be Bonnie's wet nappy. As Tammy led me toddling awkwardly down the main hallway towards the rear of the house, I wondered if - like me - she was acutely aware of the warm sticky contents of her saggy full nappy mashing moistly between her thighs.

We headed through the sunroom towards the floor-to-ceiling glass doors that opened onto the pool. I stumbled in fright when I caught sight of two pretty little girls toddling hand-in-hand towards us. With a start I realised that I was staring at our reflection in the sparkling clear glass. I really did look like an overgrown baby girl, and Tammy looked like a beautiful diapered toddler waddling beside me. The pretty petite pixie opened the heavy sliding glass door with difficulty, and we wandered outside into the bright midday sunshine. The spacious lounging area around the pool was paved with huge blocks of pale Sydney sandstone, and the ochre and rust-coloured bands in the stone blocks had been artfully arranged into beautiful swirling patterns. The water in the enormous backyard pool glistened in the bright sunlight, and the aqua side tiles and the dark-blue tiles at the bottom gave the lapping water an inviting Mediterranean appearance.

Tammy opened the navy painted door to the cabana at the other end of the pool and led me waddling inside, leaving the door wide open behind us. A locked blue door to the right led to the pump and filter system, but apart from that, the rest of the space comprised a roomy combined bathroom and laundry. Small white tiles covered the floor, which sloped down to a drainage hole in the middle, and there were navy and sky-blue tiles covering the walls to head height. A frosted skylight panel in the white-painted ceiling meant the room was bathed in bright filtered sunlight. An industrial-size washing machine stood against one wall, and above it, an equally enormous clothes dryer was mounted on the wall, alongside a fold-out, plastic-coated, wire hanging rack for towels. There was a deep, stainless-steel laundry tub on the other side and beside that, a white marble vanity bench and double basin, with a sparkling mirror mounted above. Bonnie had once informed me their family had two complete laundries, so her mum could wash and dry all the towels their many guests used after swimming and showering without interfering with her normal weekly wash routine. It was just another reminder of how well-off my Aunty Cath was, and for the millionth time, I wished my family was as rich as theirs.

There was a white porcelain toilet standing against the wall in the far corner, with a pastel-blue plastic seat and lid, and a low, blue-tiled brick privacy screen separating it from the rest of the room. A small plastic-lined bin stood in front of the toilet against the wall. Apart from a huge cupboard full of beach towels, bath towels, washcloths and bathmats, plus two boxes brim-full of spare swimming costumes for their guests, the only other feature was an open, double-headed shower stall in the opposite corner. It was as wide as two normal shower booths, with a clear glass splash screen extending from each wall at either end. You had to step between the fixed glass screens to enter the dual shower, but once inside, both chromed shower heads could be twisted around and aimed at the single occupant. I had enjoyed many luxurious long, hot, double-headed showers in this spacious tiled bathroom, after swimming in my cousins' sumptuous backyard pool.

Tammy dropped the change bag and released my hand, and I wobbled uncertainly while she opened the cupboard and took out three bath towels. She ignored me, spreading out one navy towel on the floor next to the shower alcove and hanging the other baby-blue bath towels over the glass screens in readiness. She removed the heavy tied plastic bag from my vinyl change bag and ripped it open. As I suspected, the plastic bag contained one of Bonnie's well-used nappies. I could smell the strong ammonia odour from where I stood. Tammy balled up the plastic bag and tossed it in the bin near the toilet, and it landed in the centre with a low 'swish.'

The naughty little teenager perversely pressed the sodden pink cloth under her nose and over her smiling mouth. After inhaling deeply, she turned to me with a cheeky grin. "Mmm! I love that pissy smell," she chuckled wickedly, before throwing Bonnie's drenched diaper into the open washing machine. She drew her t-shirt over her slender torso and balled it up, before it followed the nappy into the machine. After tossing in her lace-trimmed socks, Tammy poured some washing powder and fabric conditioner into the appropriate compartments, adjusted the settings. She returned to stand right in front of me, her gorgeous face inches from my own.

I was entranced by the proximity of her hard pink nipples for a few moments, and raised my gaze with effort to stare into Tammy's beautiful big brown eyes. I felt my heart melting, even as my excitable clittie grew stiffer inside my poopy wet nappy. "Do you think I'm pretty, Baby Jennie?" Tammy coyly asked, clasping both small hands together over her bulging wet nappy crotch. Her slender upper arms pressed her tiny titties together till the little mounds almost formed a fleshy cleavage, and she rubbed her cupped fingers between her splayed thighs as she waited for my response.
"I fink you're wovewy!" I gasped truthfully around the mouth-filling dummy that mysteriously found its way between my lips once more. The gorgeous little blonde snickered and twisted her slender frame from side to side, making her proud bare titties wiggle and shake.

"Really?" Tammy insisted. She giggled and pressed her sodden nappy against her sensitive vulva more firmly when I nodded enthusiastically.
"Weally!" I eagerly replied, "Weally-twuly!"
"Do you like my titties?" she saucily demanded, releasing her grip on her saggy wet panty crotch to cup the fleshy objects in question with her small hands. Even though she was a petite seventeen-year-old, the top of my head barely came up to her nose. I was staring right at her perfect bulging breasts from mere inches away.

I nodded enthusiastically again, and squealed, "Yeth Aunty Tammy!"
She pouted prettily and gazed down at her cupped mounds a tad wistfully. "You don't think they're too small?" She squeezed her pencil-eraser nipples between her thumbs and forefingers and pinched the tiny pink buds erect, before stretching her stiffening nips painfully far away from her slender chest.
"No, no," I moaned, unaware that I was slowly rubbing my right palm up and down over the slippery nylon-covered front of my rumba panties. "They're perfect!" My stiff clittie throbbed to the moist kiss of my wet nappy, and I clutched the thrilling humid warmth tighter around my swollen tool.

Tammy seemed delighted by my impassioned responses. She wrapped her slender arms around my shivering frame and drew me into a warm embrace. "I bet you'd like to kiss them," she murmured confidently in my ear. I found my blushing pink cheek pressed against one small warm breast, and I ducked my head and hurriedly spat out my dum-dums. My lips seemed to instinctively part to accept the hard pink nipple that bumped temptingly under my nose, and I willingly began to suck on the sweet morsel of feminine flesh. "Ooo, Baby Jennie," Tammy groaned, and I was thrilled that she didn't seem annoyed by my impulsive actions. I gently sucked on the swollen pink cap and was delighted to find it swelling and growing stiffer under my tentative ministrations. "Mmm, what a hungry baby!" Encouraged by her softly crooned words, I began to suck harder. She moaned in pleasure and wiggled her slender body closer, hugging me even tighter.

After a minute of enthusiastic suckling on her dry swollen nipple, Tammy firmly pushed me away. "No, no more, baby girl," she gently protested, although her sleepy brown eyes and full, parted red lips said something else entirely. She laughed at my forlorn expression and relented, grasping my face with both hands. She steered my eagerly pouting lips towards the other erect pink bud. For another wonderful minute, the room was silent except for the sounds of me busily breastfeeding - and Tammy's occasional quiet moans of pleasure. Finally she pushed me away, and I sighed and pouted in disappointment. "No more for now, Baby Jennie," she chided me with an indulgent smile. I relented, smiling contentedly at the unspoken promise of more later, sucking on the fat rubber teat of my dum-dums in greedy anticipation. I longed for another taste of her sweet pink nipples.

Tammy daintily twirled around on her bare feet and poked out her saggy diapered rear towards me. "Do you like my bottom, Baby Jennie?" She stared back at me over her shoulder, coquettishly batting her long black lashes as she crisply swatted the bulging seat of her plastic panties with one palm, like she was giving herself a pretend-spanking. "I noticed you staring at my bum a few days ago. Or were you just admiring my pretty panties?"
"Yeth!" I cried like an excited little girl, daring to reach out and pat her protruding padded posterior with my free left hand. I could feel the warmth of her wet nappy through the translucent pink plastic panties, and my clittie throbbed with the need to be touched. "Bofe of fem! I fink your wittle bottom is beautiful, and I wove your pwetty pantieth!" I fervently declared. I squeezed harder the soggy cloth cocooning my stiff clittie.

She must have seen the truth shining in my wide blue eyes and heard the honest enthusiasm in my voice, for Tammy laughed and turned to face me once more. "I thought you liked my panties," she commented with a confident knowing leer. "I bet you'd like to try them on sometime?" I nodded eagerly again, clutching my pulsating clittie through the warm wet cloth, too overcome with desire to speak. "Then you won't mind changing my poopy nappy?" she enticed me with a winning smile that made my empty stomach do flip-flops.
I shook my head and mumbled shyly, "I don't mind." She grinned impishly.

"Turn around, sweetie," Tammy commanded. After she twirled me around, she unbuckled my leather toddler harness. I had completely forgotten I was wearing it, and I spat out my dummy and helpfully shifted my bibbie and the dangling plastic chain to the inside of the loosened chest strap. She drew the pink leather bands over my head and dropped the harness to the tiles, and then she unfastened my jingling baby bracelets. She tossed the pink patent straps in the change bag, then tugged on the hem of my tiered gingham frock. "Take this off too, baby girl," she insisted with an encouraging smile. I compliantly raised my hands so she could the pull the juvenile outfit over my head without too much difficulty. "We don't want to get your pretty baby frock dirty. Do we, sweetie?" My frilly bib got in the way this time and I grunted in confusion, alarmed when everything became trapped over my head.

Tammy laughed gaily at my childish whimpers of distress, and calmly ordered me to settle down while she sorted things out. As soon as my head and hands were free of the layered frock, I straightened the frilly pink bib over by bare breast and popped my dummy teat back in my mouth. She draped my gingham toddler outfit over the wires of the drying rail. She smiled enticingly at me as she lay down on the navy-blue bath towel she had laid out ready and waiting on the cool white tiles. I knelt on the fluffy thick towel beside her slender frame as she settled onto her back, with her knees raised and her bare feet planted wide. Her little titties barely shifted either side of her breastbone, and the erect caps remained pointed at the ceiling like two pink arrows pointing to heaven. My gingham vinyl change bag sat beside me, so everything I needed to change a baby's nappy was ready at hand.

As soon as Tammy raised her wet diapered bottom, I whisked down her translucent pink plastic panties. The smell of her soiling grew noticeably stronger. Funnily enough, I didn't find the odour at all offensive. She didn't seem to care. She let her bottom drop and raised her slender ankles so I could slide the crackling baby panties over her tiny pointed toesies. I cast the dripping pilchers aside as she slid her dainty feet together and let her knees flop wide, smiling up at me in happy anticipation. I leaned over the petite blonde and unfastened the big pink pins holding her soggy pink nappy together.

When I lowered the heavy wet front piece, I was surprised to find she was still wearing her cotton panties. I’d forgotten she was wearing her white knickers with the yellow daisy printed over her pudenda. Well, not so white, now. The entire front was stained yellow, all the way up to the high elastic waistband which snugly hugged her flat brown tummy. When she raised her bum so I could slide the nappy from underneath her, I saw that it was saturated, but not too badly stained with poo-poo. Most of her mess had been contained by her tight, full-cut, high-waisted panties. The rich dank odour was much stronger now. Her soggy panty crotch was a mess of dark-brown lumps, smeared from the front of the gusset all the way back to where the rest of her poopy load disappeared from view under her curvaceous little rear. She gratefully let her botty drop as soon as I slid the dirty terry nappy down between her spread legs. I folded it in half to reduce the stench, before placing the poop-stained wet diaper aside on the tiled floor.

Tammy tossed me a smile that was part-proud, yet part-entreating. She raised her dirty bum again so I could tug down her badly-soiled, thick cotton panties. "Careful, Baby Jennie," she cautioned me. "Try not to spill too much mess on the towel." I nodded, but decided not to mention there was already a dark moist spot on the navy towel where her filthy wet panty bottom had been resting. I pulled the wide elastic waistband down a few inches in the back first, to the top of her bumcrack. Then I slid the front down a little, to reveal the top few curls of her fine blonde pubic muff. My stiff clittie pounded at this glimpse of her hidden treasure, and I gasped quietly in arousal.

"Keep your bum up," I softly told her, my low voice shaky as I reached between her legs. I carefully slid my fingers under the tight elastic leg bands either side of her kitten, towards the front where her panties were only wet. Then I slowly and carefully peeled the sticky brown panty crotch away from her messy groin and bottom. Tammy sighed quietly as the poopy gusset moistly separated from her tender flesh. I couldn't tell if it was a sigh of regret or pleasure. I moved my hands back to the wide elastic waistband either side of her hips, and carefully drew the full saturated panties down to the tops of her legs. The loaded crotch drooped heavily between her spread thighs, two slightly-mashed, dark-brown logs still visible in the centre of the mushy glistening mess.

Tammy's fine blonde pubic hair formed a neat triangle, the base starting just above her delicate pink crease. I could see every detail of her beautiful little kitten through the sparse growth of curls, right down to where her womanly opening was concealed by a thick, moist layer of fresh brown poo-poo. Sticky poop was matted in the peach fuzz either side of her slit, and there were nasty smears around the insides of both her muscular tanned thighs. My stiff clittie twitched spastically inside my dirty wet nappy at the sight of those swollen pink pussy-lips smeared with the naughty girl's fresh excrement. My heart was racing in my chest. I delicately slid the sagging soiled panties down her lithe young thighs, all the way to her flexed knees, and then hoarsely urged her to remain in place. I grabbed the slim white plastic tub of baby wipes from my change bag and withdrew one of the moist scented wipes. I opened the disposable cloth wipe and spread it out over the damp spot in the centre of the navy towel, then whispered, "You can lower your botty now."

Tammy grunted with relief as her dirty bare bum settled onto the moist wipe, which prevented most of her soiling ending up on the towel. She gave me a wan smile of appreciation and lifted her tiny feet into the air, and I tried to slide her dirty panties down her lower legs and away without smearing too much excrement on her slender calves or her pretty pink toenails. Despite my best efforts, there were a few dirty streaks on the backs of both legs, and a small nasty lump stuck behind her right knee. I placed the panties aside on the floor, making sure they were the right way up so that none of the poo-poo load spilled onto the tiles. When I turned back to her Tammy giggled and sat up, her squishy bottom resting on the moist baby wipe. "What's that on your fingers?" she asked with an innocent smile, pointing at my right hand.

When I examined my fingers, I found a tiny brown lump on the end of my index finger, and a dirty smear on my middle fingertip. "It'th poo-pooth," I told her, with a careless smile and a dismissive shrug. She laughed brightly in response.
"Are you sure?" Tammy demanded, her big brown eyes twinkling with mischief. She grabbed my hand and drew my grubby fingers towards her gorgeous grinning face. She sniffed the dirty little lump she held under her nose. "Hmm. I think it's poo-poos. It smells like poo-poos. What do you think?" She thrust my hand back under my nose and held it there, ordering, "Take a good sniff, baby girl."

I obediently inhaled through my nose, filling my nostrils with the naughty rich scent of her recent soiling. I nodded and smiled in confirmation, lisping; "It’th poo-pooth. It'th Tammy'th poo-pooth."
She laughed and used her free hand to pluck out my dummy by the pink plastic chain, and with a sly smile, she demanded, "Are you sure, baby?" When I opened my mouth to answer, she swiftly thrust my curled fingers between my parted lips, insisting; "Maybe you'd better taste it and see." I squealed in alarm at the unexpected onslaught, but I wasn't quick enough to prevent her ramming my poop-stained digits deeply into my mouth. Her other hand wrapped around the back of my head, holding me tightly in place to prevent me wrenching my face away. "Suck it, baby. Suck hard for Aunty and see," she crooned invitingly.

I initially attempted to wrench my fingers from my mouth, but the petite seventeen-year-old was too strong for me. I tried to protest but every time my writhing lips tried to form words, my tongue scraped against the soiled fingers buried in my mouth. I could taste Tammy’s poo-poos, and it wasn't as horrible as I expected. Her shit had a rich dank taste, oddly reminiscent of bitter dark chocolate. My erect clittie was throbbing with arousal at the perverted acts the gorgeous naked blonde was forcing me to perform. The sensitive swollen head of my pounding tool pressed against the warm soggy front of my dirty wet nappy when I sat back on my heels. One heel was wedged in my poopy crack, and I rocked and rolled on the firmer lumps trapped between my damp botty cheeks.

I gave up resisting and let my dirty fingers rest in my mouth, sucking loudly on the tips like a good obedient baby as I bounced up and down on my heel. The nasty taste spread over my tongue and I moaned in submissive acceptance, and then it didn't seem so awful. When some excess saliva trickled down my throat, I knew some of Tammy's poo-poo was going to end up in my tummy. The thought drove me wild with excitement! I clutched my left hand over the front of my slithering rumba panties and rubbed my wet nappy harder against my pulsating stiffness, secretly relishing the filthy taboo act I was performing for my naughty grinning babysitter. My sensitive clittie was so hard and swollen inside my wonderfully warm wet nappy; I suspected I might do another cummie soon. I rocked faster on my dirty wet bottom and thrust my stiff clittie harder into the warm wet folds sweetly surrounding me, moaning and sucking like a helpless big baby.

Tammy climbed to her feet when she decided I had sufficiently cleaned my fingers, before squatting over the towel with her knees splayed wide. She was facing me and I could see right between her firm young thighs. My slobbery fingers fell from my mouth when my jaw dropped in amazement. The stunning vision of her filthy gaping womanhood was unfortunately quickly obscured when she used the moist baby wipe stuck to her poopy bottom to scrape away most of the mess remaining between her legs.

"Give me another wipe," she commanded, holding out her free hand until I handed her another of the white disposable cloth wipes from the tub. “Good girl.” As soon as she had carefully wiped her bottom crack too, she stood erect. She examined the sticky brown mess smeared all over the moist wipes. "Look at all that poo-poos," she commented quietly in amazement. I thought I detected a note of admiration in her low tone. She turned to glance over her shoulder at her reflection in the mirror. From my position on the floor, I couldn't see her poop-stained rear. Although I could tell by the smug smile on her face when she turned back to me; she was more than satisfied with the view.

I was already opening one of the orange plastic nappy sacks for her to toss the dirty wipes inside, and she carefully balled them up and dropped them in with a grateful smile. I knelt there drinking in the glorious sight of her naked body. She was indescribably perfect! "Take off your shoes and socks, and lie down, Baby Jennie," she commanded with a cheeky grin. The slim teen stepped off the towel and pointed to the damp spot where her dirty wet bum had recently been resting. When I dropped the nappy sack to the floor and slowly obeyed, the gorgeous teenager continued in soothing toddler tones. "It's time to change your poopy wet nap-nap, too, baby girl."

Completely nude, she knelt beside my supine form and cooed, "Lift that bot-bot high for Aunty Tammy!" I lay back and compliantly raised my padded bottom high in the air. She tugged the tight waistband of my pink rumba panties down over my drooping diaper package. She carelessly threw the frilly panties aside, and as soon as my bottom dropped and my knees flopped apart, she unclasped the two pink pins either side. "What a dirty, wet baby girl you are!" Tammy softly teased me, as she wiped away most of the sticky mess from my stiff bobbing clittie with the soggy but poop-free front section.

The grinning teen told me to lift again while she slid my soiled nappy forward, then ordered me to drop. She collected my ankles and rolled me onto my back, and then she used the saturated disposable soaker pad to scrape away the biggest lumps from between my brown-stained botty-cheeks. She rolled up the dirty disposable and taped it closed, before dropping it in the open nappy sack. She slid the filthy wet cloth nappies from under my raised rear, and then ordered me to lower my bum again. When I appeared anxious and hesitated to obey her, she crooned with a reassuring smile; "Don't worry, Baby Jennie! Aunt Tammy is going to throw all these dirty towels and nappies straight in the washing machine. You don't have to worry about making a mess, little girl." She giggled at my worried expression when I slowly lowered my sticky wet bottom onto the navy towel. I winced when I felt my yucky mess squishing moistly under my naked cheeks.

"Widdle footsies in the air and ballerina toesies, Baby Jennie," Tammy brightly ordered. I instinctively obeyed the familiar commands. I was shocked when she slid her heavily-soiled cotton panties over my pointed pink toenails and up my little legs. ""Now footsies down, and lift that little bot-bot for Aunty Tammy," she crooned. The thought of disobeying her never even entered my mind. "You said you wanted to try on my panties? So here you go!" As soon as she tugged the snug elastic waistband high around my slender waist, I knew the naughty teen had put her filthy panties on me back-to-front! Warm sticky poo-poos enveloped my stiff clittie like thick rich mud. As soon as my bottom dropped onto the towel, my right hand automatically cupped the semi-solid waste trapped against my throbbing genitals by the snug cotton panties.

"Ooo!" Tammy giggled; "I can see Baby Jennie likes that! You must like wearing my dirty panties! What a dirty, bad baby girl you are! Get on your knees, you bad baby girl. Come on - on your hands and knees for Aunty." I rolled over and shuffled onto my knees without releasing my grip on my poop-coated stiffie, and stuck out my left hand to support my upper body. There was a small smear of fresh brown poo-poos staining the middle of the towel where my bum had been. I made sure I avoided resting my palm on the sticky spot. The grinning girl immediately dropped to her hands and knees on the towel facing away from me, her dirty bare bottom directly in front of my astonished face.

Even though her hips were slender, Tammy's tiny waist exaggerated the outward flow of her curvy round bottom cheeks, all the way down to the fleshy creases underneath - which rose in the middle to meet in the shadowed place between her tanned upper thighs. Her pale bottom flesh formed a perfect upside-down heart, and my wide fascinated eyes were instinctively drawn to the hidden juncture of her sweet opening. There was an inch-wide brown stain either side of her delectable crack, running from the small of her back all the way down to the beginnings of her sex. The combined aromas of her womanly odour and her fresh faeces filled my flared nostrils. I inhaled deeply, trying to absorb even more of this wondrous beauty's deeply personal scents. She turned her head to glance back over one shoulder at me and snicker, "Do you still think my bottom is beautiful, Baby Jennie?"

"Yeth!" I gasped, watching in rapt fascination as she spread her knees wider on the dirty towel. I briskly rubbed my hand up and down over the poopy load in my soggy panties, my pulsating clittie about to explode. Tammy slumped down and let her face and titties rest on the fluffy towel, poking out her bum at me so that her flawless bottom cheeks opened wider as they drew closer to my face. I admired the dirty wrinkled opening of her delicate anus, but then my wide eyes drifted down to where her poop-stained sex was opening like some exotic flower inches from my twitching nose. Her fine fleshy pussy lips separated like a hungry vertical mouth. Inside the dirt-smeared entrance, I could see the glistening, rosy-pink walls of her lubricating vagina. Her right hand shifted between her splayed thighs, and she slid two curled fingers inside her slippery wet hole for a few seconds, collecting some of the creamy dew on her wiggling fingertips.

"Then perhaps you'd like to kiss my bottom?" Tammy saucily suggested. When I gasped and nodded, she turned her face forward and let her cheek softly rest of the towel again. "Go on, then, baby girl. Kiss it. Kiss my bottom, Baby Jennie." She laughed throatily when I tentatively placed my puckered lips against one of those perfect round fleshy globes. When she spoke, her voice sounded thick with arousal. "No baby, not my bumcheek,” she throatily corrected me. “Aunty Tammy wants you to kiss her botty-hole." I drew my face back a few inches, and I could see she was slowly rubbing the top of her dirty slit in lazy little circles, right over her sensitive swollen clitoris. "Go on, baby. You know you want to," she urged me, sounding arrogantly confident in her estimation of my decadence. “Kiss me where the poop comes out. Kiss my poo-poo hole." Tammy reached around with her unoccupied left hand and spreading her little fingers wide, she grabbed hold of her beautiful left globe. She pulled her stained bum cheeks further apart one-handed, opening herself wider for my perverted adoration.

Her overpowering earthy aroma filled my nostrils, and I could still taste the remnants of her fruit of Sodom on my tongue. My filthy right hand was whipping up and down the length of my straining clittie, using the deranged teenager's moist squishy poo-poo as a disgusting messy lubricant while I frantically masturbated myself closer and closer to a thrilling climax. With a groan of submission I closed my eyes and leant forward, obediently puckering my lips and pressing my face between her poop-stained bottom cheeks. Even though Tammy had wiped her bum, there was still a rich brown layer of faeces covering her wrinkled pinky-brown hole. My questing lips brushed aside her sticky mess as I slavishly worshipped her delicate anal opening.

"Oh yeah! Oh Baby Jennie! Yeah! Mmm, that's it," she muttered in a low voice throaty with passion. "Ohhh! Kiss my bumhole, baby," she commanded a trifle breathlessly, "Kiss Aunty Tammy where the sun don't shine!"
"Mmph! Mmph!" I mumbled wordlessly in response, unwilling to remove my slobbering lips from her dirty back door even to respond to her exhortations. Her beautiful round bottom began to jiggle up and down slightly. The slippery fingers massaging her clitoris circled harder and faster over her sensitive swollen love-button. I knew it was wrong; what I was doing was dirty, and disgusting. But I was so aroused, and my horny mind was consumed by thoughts of pressing my lips against her forbidden opening. It was so wrong - but it felt so right!

"Mmm, ohhh! Oh yeah! Aaahh! That's it, baby! Kiss it! Kiss it like you love it. Ooo! Good girl, that’s it! You do love it! Don’t you, Baby Jennie? Ohhh baby! Mmmm. Yes! Yes, you love it. Now lick my hole. Lick it! Go on! Lick my dirty little hole!" I cracked open my eyes and slavishly tongued her anal opening, cleaning away most of the filthy coating until her perfect wrinkled hole began to dilate under my gentle lapping efforts. I didn't care that my tongue became coated with a thick layer of her waste. My taste buds seemed to have adapted to handle the musty flavour. "Yeah baby!" Tammy groaned in wanton passion, "Now stick your tongue inside me. Go on! Push your tongue up my bumhole." I poked out my dirty tongue as far as it would go and stiffened the tip into a pointed pink dart, and obediently plunged it inside Tammy's smelly poop-chute. "Ooo! Oh God!" she moaned in feverish arousal. Her hips began to rapidly bob up and down as she furiously caressed her swollen love-button.

I could hear her sticky wet fingers sloshing around over her clit, and her curvaceous rear end began to jiggle about with excitement. Her breathing grew ragged, and Tammy was panting heavily when she hoarsely ordered, "Stick your tongue all the way inside me, baby girl. Lick my poo-poo hole! Lick me inside my shitty hole, you dirty bad baby! Fuck my arsehole with your tongue!" I slavishly obeyed her throaty commands, masturbating in a frenzy of lust, ignoring the slimy wet mess covering my palm. My right fist shot like a piston up and down over the creamy slick front of my shit-filled panties. Each gasping breath I inhaled through my nostrils was filled with the combined scents of Tammy's steamy wet opening and her fresh excrement. I revelled in the naughty erotic aromas overwhelming my senses.

"Oh! Ohh! Ohhh! Oh God!" Tammy squealed, and her whole body began to shudder. I knew she was close to cumming. I was seconds away from exploding myself! I pressed my face as deeply between those firm fleshy globes as humanly possible, and tried to ram as much of my stiffened tongue inside her twitching anus as I could. When her climax began it triggered my own, and we both exploded in a violent paroxysm of writhing flesh. "Oh Godohgodogodogod!" she screamed, and I likewise tried to squeal as my orgasm almost blew the head off my clittie!

I snorted for air through my nose, unwilling to remove my plunging tongue from her sweet little hole until her clenching anus literally pushed me out. Bad baby juice squirted out of me in violent electric pulses to be captured by my filthy high-waisted cotton panties, mixing with the sticky brown remnants of Tammy's recent bowel movement. My supporting arm gave way and I collapsed in a shuddering heap, my face buried between those delicious fleshy cheeks as the lights rapidly strobed on and off behind my clenched eyelids.

"Oh, you dirty, dirty babies! What a stench! Just as I suspected…" Bonnie's contemptuous drawl startled the hell out of me. I heard the whirring sound of a ventilation fan in the ceiling as it accelerated into life. When I snatched my lips from Tammy's dirty bottom and fearfully turned to face the sneering teen standing in the cabana doorway, Bonnie had to laugh. "Oh look at you, Baby Jennie! Look at all that pooey mess on your face! Is that your poopy nappy I see lying there? And you're wearing Tammy's dirty panties too? Pooh! What a dirty baby girl you are! You stink! It reeks of shit in here! What on earth have you been up to, you bad baby?"

Bonnie was dressed in her pink-and-white striped shortalls again. From the discernible bulge around her hips and the wide gap between her plump splayed thighs, I could tell she was heavily diapered once more. She was wearing a pastel-pink t-shirt underneath the high bib front of her shortalls this time, but hadn't bothered putting on any shoes or socks. She was carrying Tammy's baby doll frock and her lacy padded bra over one arm, and she stepped past our prostrate writhing forms to toss the garments over the hanging rack. "Well, Baby Jennie?"

Before I could form a coherent response, my overbearing cousin grabbed me by one pigtail and twisted my face back between Tammy's trembling dirty bum cheeks. "I didn't tell you to stop, did I? Get your poopy little face back where it belongs, Baby Jennie. You dirty, disgusting little babies!" I used my dirty fingers to wrench those beautiful fleshy globes apart, and pressed my pursed lips back between Tammy's trembling brown-stained cheeks. But this time I merely kissed the object of my lust in servile adoration between rasping gasps for air, rather that trying to lick clean her wrinkled pink opening with my dirty tongue.

"Oh Mama! I did another big cummie!" Tammy proudly announced with a shuddering sigh. She smiled contentedly up at the domineering brunette Amazon from her kneeling position on the dirty towel. She gently pressed her bottom back against my face, and I wiggled the pointed tip of my tongue inside her wrinkled pink hole once more. She moaned in pleasure.
"I saw you," Bonnie diffidently replied. "I think Baby Jennie did a big cummie in your poopy panties, too. You're a naughty little girl, Tammy! You were meant to be cleaning up out here, not making more of a mess for Mama to clean up."
"Yes Mama," Tammy quietly agreed, lifting her face from the soiled navy towel lying underneath her and sounding guilty as sin. "I'm a bad baby," she willingly confessed, her eyes glowing with lust.
"Yes you are," Bonnie agreed a trifle grimly. "And fancy letting Baby Jennie wear your poopy panties!"
"She wanted to!" Tammy muttered a mite defensively. She crawled away from me so my face dropped, my puckered lips almost scraping the dirty mess lying on the towel between her knees.

"You’re a dirty, bad baby girl! I'm going to have to deal with your naughtiness later," Bonnie warned her gorgeous little friend in low menacing tones. Tammy merely gave a secretive pleased smile at the threat. I saw her give her throbbing clittie one final gentle caress that made her shudder and Bonnie frown. "Get off the floor at once, you bad babies, and toss those dirty nappies and that filthy towel in the washing machine. Then get in that shower and clean up - both of you!"
"Yes Mama," we obediently chorused, clambering awkwardly to our feet. We couldn't look at each other as we collected our dirty wet nappies, our smelly baby panties, and the soiled navy towel from the floor.

I peeled Tammy's filthy panties away from my shrivelling clittie, glad now to remove the sticky smelly underwear. The room stunk badly of shit, and strangely I found the pungent smell nauseating rather than erotic now that my bizarre sexual urges had been satisfied. There was a thick coating of her brown excrement covering my tiny tool and balls. I could feel a muddy layer of poop squishing moistly between my shivering buttocks. After I tossed the soiled panties in the washer, Tammy unclipped the stained bib from around my neck. She handed me my dummy on the pink plastic chain with a wry smile. She loaded everything else into the machine, closed the lid and switched it on.

I left my dum-dums sitting on top of the filling washing machine, and cupped my hands under my stinky poop-coated genitals. Being careful not to spill any mess on the clean floor, I tip-toed into the shower alcove and turned on both sets of knobs, stepping back when a blast of freezing-cold water sprayed my shivering legs for a few seconds. As soon as Tammy sidled in beside me, the showers began to warm. A few seconds later we both stood naked under two steaming streams of pulsating hot water. There were several bars of scented soap in two porcelain holders attached to the wall, and we each grabbed a bar and began to lather our poopy crotches and between our legs. I watched entranced as Tammy turned her back on me and began to vigorously soap between her creamy botty cheeks, those perfect round globes bouncing and bobbing apart before my fascinated blue eyes. I distractedly scrubbed my sticky tummy, my eyes glued to Tammy's curvaceous little rear, unaware that my bladder was slowly emptying in a small golden arc.

"Get a move on," Bonnie harshly urged us, sounding more than a little irritated. "You dirty, disgusting little babies!” Her disdainful tone and the disgusted sneer on her face didn't help, though. Her next words snapped me from my reverie. “My mum is going to be home any minute now, and she better not catch you like this!" I began to frantically scour my dirty bottom cheeks and the filthy crease between, terrified of being caught in this state by my strict Aunty Cath. Bonnie stood watching us for another minute, her arms folded under her huge bosom and frowning severely.

When she seemed satisfied that we were following her directions, she instructed us, "When you're both dry, dress yourself first, Tammy. Then change the baby into a fresh nappy and get her dressed, too. Get a move on, alright? My mum will be home any second."
"Yes Mama," Tammy obediently replied. Bonnie merely scowled in irritation and stalked out of the cabana. As soon as Tammy finished scrubbing her legs, the petite blonde swiftly rinsed her slender body and then turned off the shower. She jumped out and grabbed the nearest towel hanging over the glass screen. She briskly towelled herself dry while I finished washing the mess from my legs.

It took me a while to poke some of the bigger lumps through the slotted drainage hole in the shower. I had to wash my fingers again when I finished. When I thought I was clean, I turned to find Tammy already dressed and waiting impatiently for me to finish. "Am I okay?" I hesitantly asked her, and her frown faded to be replaced by a sneering smile.
"No way!" she responded tartly, "You've still got a little poo-poo…" Tammy pointed to her own shining clean face, and indicated the area around her rosy-red lips.

I had forgotten I had smeared her sticky poop all over my face, too. She tossed me a washcloth from the cupboard. After I soaped it up under the running hot stream, I vigorously scrubbed my mouth, chin and nose. When I hopefully turned my face back towards her for a fresh evaluation, she grinned and held up one thumb in approval.

"That's better. Now hurry up and turn off that shower, and hop out so I can dry you," Tammy commanded. She stood in front of me and wrapped me in the baby-blue towel as soon as I stepped out. She briskly rubbed my face and shoulders, working her way down my dripping body to my legs. When she bent over to dry between my toes, I stared over her head at her reflection in the mirror mounted over the basins. I gasped when I realised she wasn't wearing any panties. Her beautiful bare bottom looked so sweet peeking out from under the hem of her pink babydoll frock, and I admired the sight of those firm jiggling buttocks until she stood erect. She spread the damp towel out over the tiles and ordered, "Lie down here, Baby Jennie, and I'll get you into a lovely fresh nappy."

She knelt beside me and demurely smoothed the front of her short frock over her naked crotch when she noticed the direction of my hungry gaze. Tammy took a clean prepared diaper from my change bag, made sure the soaker pad was still in place, and then slid the thick wad of cloth under my helpfully-raised rear. The gorgeous blonde smiled down sweetly at me as she caressed baby powder over my sensitive shrivelled genitals. She sang, "Footsies in the air, and lift that bot-bot, baby." She gently smoothed the sweet-smelling talc over my tender botty checks with her soft white hand. When my legs dropped, she brought the nappy front up firmly over my crotch at the same time. Tammy copied Bonnie's technique, pinning one side, then double-pinning the other, before unpinning the first side, re-tightening my nappies, and then securely double-pinning the first side again. I felt snug as a bug in a rug by the time she was satisfied. There were clean plastic panties in my change bag too. Tammy gave a squeal of delight when she recognised the Barbie-pink PVC panties I’d worn to the park with her last week.

As soon as my baby panties had been tugged into place over my fluffy nappy, she grabbed my hands and helped me to my feet. She centred the little satin bow decorating the waistband of my bright pink panties over my belly button, and then picked up my sleeveless pink frock. I raised my arms and meekly let her feed my hands through the armholes and my head through the neck hole. I straightened my tiered gingham frock over my bulging nappy front like a vain little girl concerned about her appearance. I sat on the floor to pull on my frilly anklet socks. When Tammy bent over in front of me to pick up the damp towel; I gazed in adoration at her beautiful pale bum cheeks. I dared to reach out and touch one of her firm fleshy globes with my trembling fingers. "What about you?" I whispered, when she turned sharply at the intimate caress. "You don't have any pantieth?" She smiled resignedly and gave me a careless shrug, but I could tell she wasn't happy.

When I fumbled with the laces on my pink sandshoes, the beautiful blonde crouched down in front of me and brushed my clumsy hands aside. I leaned back on my hands and let her tie my shoelaces for me like I was a helpless toddler, fascinated by the glimpses of her juicy opening I could spy between her slightly parted thighs. "There'th uthually a thpare dithpothable in the change bag," I hesitantly offered.
"A spare diaper?" Tammy cried in delight. As soon as she finished tying my pink laces in big floppy double bows, she abruptly stood. She turned around and bent over to check the bottom of the voluminous vinyl bag. Her short cotton frock rode up her back again, exposing most of her curvaceous little bottom. I admired the delicate shaded cleft where my lips had so recently worshipped.

Tammy produced the folded pink disposable with a muted squeal of glee, and then turned and held it out to me with an entreating smile. "Will you-?"
"Of courthe!" I willingly accepted the papery diaper and unfolded it, then placed it open and waiting on the towel. Tammy lay back on the rustling pink disposable with a mischievous smile, and then noisily wriggled about as she drew her flounced babydoll frock up out of the way around her tiny padded titties. I took the white plastic container from the pink gingham change bag, and with a shaky hand I sprinkled a cloud of delicately-perfumed white powder between her spread thighs. I gathered her slender ankles together and scooped my left forearm under them. I used my arm to raise her ankles high in the air, and then rolled her back onto her shoulders.

She giggled like a contented toddler as I caressed the sweet-smelling talc over her perfect round globes. I made sure to smooth some of the perfumed powder deeply into the cleft of her parted buttocks, too. When I lowered her ankles she let her knees flop indecently wide. Tammy brought her feet together and slid her heels up towards her crotch, just like a real baby being changed. She gave me an innocent smile as her powder-covered sex gaped open. There was a wet oval of shiny pink flesh amidst the thick white coating of talc. I caressed the soft fleshy creases under her silky-smooth buttocks with trembling fingers, gathering some of the excess powder on my fingertips. I slowly smoothed it over her sensitive perineum towards her greedy wet opening.

Tammy gasped in arousal when I softly trailed my fingertips over her sensitive swollen labia. I boldly cupped her pudenda with my powdery palm and held my fingers against her hot wet opening for a few seconds. She clamped her hands over my own, wantonly pressing two of my fingers right inside her slick wet vagina before I delicately tugged my hand free. "We have to hurry," I mumbled regretfully. She sighed in disappointment as I continued rubbing the talc across her trembling tanned tummy. I briskly dusted my hands together and wiped my palms on the baby-blue towel between my knees. When I was sure my sticky fingers were free of fine powder, I brought the front of the rustling disposable over her gaping crotch, regrettably concealing her fragrant blonde muff and her hungry open sex from my adoring eyes. I had to stretch the too-small pink disposable diaper around her slender hips, before sealing her in with the refastening tapes. When all four tapes were securely fastened, she held up her hands and I helped her to stand.

We fell together in a spontaneous hug, and I clutched the gorgeous girl and cuddled her tightly. "Thank you," she whispered in my ear.
"No, thank you," I mumbled shyly in return. She hugged me warmly once more, crisply swatted my bulging, vinyl-sheathed rear, and then released me. I hesitantly raised my gaze until I was staring into her beautiful big brown eyes. "I think you're the motht beautiful girl I've ever theen, and I-" She shoved my dummy back in my mouth with a condescending grin, cutting off my fervent declaration of adolescent/infantile adoration.

Tammy faced the mirror to check her reflection, and she smiled happily as she straightened the hem of her babydoll frock to completely conceal her new infantile underwear. “I’ll borrow a pair of panties from Bonnie to wear over my diaper,” she commented mostly to herself. “Then no one will know.” As long as she didn’t bend over, probably no one would notice she was wearing a diaper. But when she turned and leaned down to stuff my toddler harness in my empty pink change bag, I was delighted to see the puffy pink disposable poking out from under the rear of her sweet little frock. She looked adorable wearing one of my diapers! Tammy picked up my change bag and looped the handles over one shoulder, and turned to me. She grabbed my hand and with a gay laugh, dragged me towards the pool area outside. "Come on, baby girl," she cooed, talking down to me like I was a retarded toddler once more. "Oh look!” she cried, her tremulous voice betraying her mixed concern and relief. “Look who's here! It's your Mummy and your Aunty Cath!"

Aunty Cath was already striding across the sandstone terrace towards the cabana when Tammy led me shuffling out into the brilliant sunshine. Shards of bright sunlight reflected off the water in the pool, momentarily making my eyes water. Cath was carrying a bulging white plastic shopping bag in one hand which looked like it contained hot food. My Mummy walked through the tall sliding glass doors a moment later, followed by Bonnie waddling close behind. Neither of them looked very happy.

"What have you girls been up to out here, hmm?" Aunty Cath demanded. Without waiting for an answer, she strode past us and stuck her head inside the open doorway to the cabana and looked around. She pointedly sniffed the air and loudly complained, "Pooh! It reeks of poop in here!"
"I just changed Baby Jennie's poopy nappy in there and dumped it in the washing machine, Mrs Jones," Tammy replied with a bright smile. "We switched on the exhaust fan, so the nasty smell should clear in a little while." She raised her free hand and shrugged her shoulders, seemingly unaware that her dress hem rode up momentarily to reveal the puffy pink crotch of her borrowed diaper.

Aunty Cath stared in wonder at the petite blonde clutching my hand, before running her emerald eyes up and down over the gorgeous girl's slender frame in frank evaluation. Her unblinking gaze took note of the girl's juvenile dress and her bare feet, and how childishly far apart she kept her shapely little legs. Her eyes returned to my cowering form. Her expression turned cold and her tone frosty when she demanded, "You pooped in your nappies again, Baby Jennie? What did Aunty Cath tell you about asking for the potty? You know what happens-"
"It wasn't her fault!" Tammy interrupted my cranky Aunt to hurriedly explain. "She was locked in the highchair, and she was calling out for someone to put her on the potty. By the time we got there, it was too late! It wasn't Baby Jennie's fault," she finished in a rush, her cheeks turning a pretty pink colour as she fibbed to her girlfriend’s mother.

Aunty Cath turned to Bonnie for confirmation. When the tall teen nodded sourly in agreement, she barely seemed satisfied. My heart was pounding against my ribs, and I gave a grateful sigh when their hastily tossed-together collection of lies seemed to pass muster. Cath wrinkled her nose in disgust and disappeared into the cabana for a few moments, I assumed to check the washing machine was on the correct setting. I didn't know she also lifted the lid to examine the swirling contents. Her arched eyebrows rose sharply when she saw how many dirty nappies and plastic panties filled the sloshing stainless-steel drum. My eyes were glued to the smiling face of the gorgeous diapered girl holding my hand. I wanted to thank her for so adeptly saving my butt, but knew I dare not say anything right then.

“Come here to Mummy, baby girl.” I was surprised when Mummy walked over to me and picked me up in her arms. She kissed my cheek and cuddled me warmly, and I wrapped my arms around her neck in delight. "Are you okay, Baby Jennie?" Mummy quietly asked. I felt my insides warm at the concern I could hear in her voice.
"Yeth Mummy," I mumbled around the dummy in my mouth, clutching her neck and hugging her tightly. "I'm good." I didn't see the suspicious glances she cast at my babysitters over my shoulder. After a minute of lovely cuddles, she let me slide down to the ground so she could check my nappy. She seemed pleased to find me clean and dry.

Aunty Cath stepped out of the cabana, grimacing in disgust and waving one hand in front of her face. She walked over to the tubular white plastic outdoor furniture lying beside the pool. There were two long sun lounges separated by a low matching white plastic table. Cath dropped the shopping bag on the table and turned to us. "I bought you some burgers and chips for lunch, girls. Sit down here and eat it while it's hot," she firmly suggested. When we obediently shuffled over towards the vinyl-covered, padded lounges, I noticed Aunty Cath was staring at the gorgeous blonde’s crotch. When Tammy sat down, Aunty smiled grimly and nodded when she caught sight of Tammy's puffy pink diaper bulging between her legs. The embarrassed teen demurely shoved her dress front down between her clamped thighs. My Aunty slowly turned to me and demanded, "Where's your bibbie, Baby Jennie?"
"I put it in the wash, too," Tammy timidly explained. She leaned forward and reached for her burger, trying unsuccessfully to keep her too-short baby doll frock over her embarrassing infantile underwear. "It got a bit… messy."

"I see. Wait a minute girls, before you start eating," Aunty Cath insisted. She turned to my mother. "Isy, come inside and watch that video I downloaded on my computer," she suggested, "while the girls eat their lunch. It'll only take about twenty minutes." She turned back to us with a sly smile. "Don't start eating yet. I'll be back in a minute, girls." She took my mother's arm and practically dragged her back inside the house. Cath returned a short time later clutching a frilly bundle in one hand, and the digital camcorder in the other. "Here you are, girls," she cooed in that familiar sickly-sweet voice. I saw Bonnie's huge golden eyes fly open when her mother placed the black camcorder on the table beside the bag of hot food, and her mouth dropped open in shock. Because the lens was facing the girls sitting across from me, I could see the side of the camera with the control knobs and buttons. The camcorder appeared to be switched on, and the dial was turned to the 'record' mode.

Aunty Cath stepped behind me and clipped a frill-edged white bib around my neck, and I smoothed it over my chest with trembling fingers. This one declared me to be a 'Sissy Pissy Cry-baby.' The girls snickered in contempt when they read the humiliating message embroidered on my bibbie. Their laughter was cut short when Cath stepped behind Tammy and began fastening a lace-lavished bib around her neck, too. "Here you go, little Tammy," Cath cooed, like she was talking to a real toddler. "You can wear a bib too, while you eat you lunch, so you don't spill anything on that pretty babydoll frock of yours."
"But- but-" Tammy stammered in protest. I noticed she didn't dare reach behind her to remove the shameful baby item. I had to smile when I read the appropriate legend, 'Little Miss Squishy Pants,' embroidered across the front of her pastel-pink bib. The elaborate white lace collar looked so pretty framing her beautiful blushing face.

"Mum!" Bonnie began to stridently object, but her mother smoothly cut her off.
"Don't worry, Bonnie! I have enough bibbies here for all my diapered big baby girls." Bonnie's jaw dropped and she sputtered wordlessly, but she didn't try to stop her mother from clipping a lace-edged white bibbie around her neck, too. This one read, 'Little Miss Piddle-Pants.' Then Aunty Cath took a crackling pair of frosty pink baby panties from under one armpit, and she noisily shook them out. "Stand up, please Tammy," she ordered, in her stern, no-nonsense voice. When the blushing blonde bashfully obeyed, Aunty Cath held the embarrassing infantile underwear down and open for her to step into. "Put these on, sweetie. I noticed you weren't wearing any baby panties over your diaper, young lady," she explained, as the petite girl nervously fed her bare toes through the scratchy elastic leg holes. "All babies in nappies have to wear plastic panties over them in my house, so they don't make a mess on my carpet. That's the rule - isn't it, Bonnie?"
"Yes Mum," Bonnie faintly replied, although she looked like she was about to pass out from sheer mortification.

Tammy had to grab my Aunt's broad shoulders for support when Cath abruptly whipped the crackling baby panties over her smooth brown thighs. When she yanked the pink plastic panties higher around the humiliated girl's slender waist, the force of her tugging actually lifted the tiny girl onto her tippy-toes. After she released her grip, my Aunt smiled down condescendingly at the petite pink-cheeked blonde when she staggered for balance like a clumsy diapered toddler. "Now that you're properly dressed, you can sit down. Go on, Baby Tammy. Sit down with the other babies and eat your lunch. Or do you need Aunty Cath to feed you, as well?"
"No, Mrs Jones - I mean, no thank you, Aunty Cath," the blushing teenager softly replied, and she meekly sat down and opened her burger.
"That's better," Aunty Cath crooned in approval She nodded and smiled thinly as we hesitantly began eating. "Eat up, girls. I just have to go and download the memory card from this digital camcorder."

She picked up the camera as Bonnie quietly gasped, "Download the memory card?"
"Yes, dear. After I watched that video this morning… The one I downloaded from the camcorder when I brought it home from Isabell's - where you left it a few days ago. Remember? The recording you two made when you were spanking Baby Jennie - and then your revealing little chat afterwards, Bonnie, while you were doing the girls’ make-up. You know; where you explained how you tricked Baby Jennie into wetting the bed and wetting her pants. I decided to leave the camcorder switched on in your bedroom today, to record what you girls got up to while we were out."
"Record?" Bonnie sputtered in disbelief, "But the red recording light wasn't on?"

Aunty Cath ignored her ashen-faced daughter's interruption to continue sternly, "Your Aunt Isy isn't very happy with you, little girl. She didn't really want to believe me when I told her what I saw and heard when I watched that video. She insisted on seeing it for herself before deciding on your punishment." Then Aunty Cath held the viewfinder up to her eye, and aimed the lens at her wide-eyed daughter. "No," she brightly added, her tone sounding much happier. "It's still recording. I can see my big baby girl in her pretty candy-striped shortalls - with her thick nappies underneath. I guess I forgot to turn it off." As soon as she heard that the camera was recording her image, Bonnie thrust her open palm towards the lens, trying to conceal her ghostly face from the camera.

"Don't, Mum! Turn it off!" Bonnie shrilly demanded, her voice rising in fear. Her mother slowly panned across to focus on Tammy sitting next to her cringing daughter. The petite pale-faced blonde didn't react at all. She seemed numb with terror. Aunty Cath stepped back and made sure I was included in the shot, too. I was used to being filmed in my nappies and baby clothes, so I merely smiled and waved for the camera like any normal six-year-old girl, then stuffed a handful of hot chips into my mouth. "But there's no red light," Bonnie repeated incredulously.

Her mother lowered the camcorder from her face, smiled wolfishly, and then touched a button on the side to switch it off. She tilted the front of the camera up and examined the place next to the lens, where the red light normally glowed to indicate the camcorder was recording. "Hmm," Aunty Cath murmured with a look of total innocence. "I must have spilt some of my black nail polish over the indicator light." She scratched at the spot with one of her long ruby-red nails, and a few dried flakes of black nail varnish slowly fluttered to the ground.

Tammy and Bonnie stared at the towering brunette in open-mouthed horror. Aunty Cath merely tossed them a winning smile and ordered, "Eat up, girls! Enjoy your lunch while the memory card is downloading." She turned to address me before walking back into the house. "You too, Baby Jennie. Eat up, baby girl. Your Mummy wants to take you home for a nap straight after lunch. You're already overdue for a little lie-down." She was right. I was exhausted - and starving - so I munched happily on my beef burger and another handful of fries. The girls sat across from me with terror-blanched faces, barely picking at their food.

To be continued in chapter 24.

Dear reader, this site has a reader-counter, so I know hundreds of people are reading each chapter each week. It's pretty discouraging when I don't receive even one comment. Please take your hand out of your nappy long enough to post a few words in the comments section. I'd really appreciate the feedback - good or bad.
Baby Jennie

Synopsis, Jeremy's best friend and next-door neighbour returns from her holiday and catches Baby Jennie all dressed up. Sally reveals to Baby Jennie's Mummy that Jeremy used to borrow her tutu and play ballerina dress-ups in her parents garage.

To all my readers - Merry Xmas and Happy New Year!

Chapter 25. Ballerina Baby Jennie.

When I woke up, I didn't know where I was for a few seconds. The pink bars enclosing me were familiar - yet different. They were made from pink-painted steel rather than the wooden crib bars to which I’d become accustomed. There were tall, pastel-pink, painted wooden panels at the foot and head ends, bolted securely to the high steel rails. When I stretched out, my toes barely reached the end. The one at my feet carried a huge likeness of the Disney cartoon character 'Sleeping Beauty.' The head end bore a life-size painting of the smiling blonde beauty from 'Beauty and The Beast,' drawn from the waist up. I had to admit, both Princesses looked gorgeous! I felt a pang of envy, wishing I could be a beautiful Princess, too. When I gazed through the wide-spaced bars I realised I was in my Nursery at home - but everything looked different. The room was bathed in the mellow yellow glow of afternoon sunshine, so I knew I must have slept for more than an hour. And no wonder! I had been exhausted by my busy session of playing babies with Tammy and Bonnie.

Angelica's bed was gone, and I spied a new pastel-pink dresser, a wide white wicker rocking chair, and a new change table where the old one used to stand. The low mirrored vanity against the far wall was the same, and I assumed Mummy was going to buy a new, more grown-up one for Angelica. The place looked weirdly empty without my sister's bed crowding up the spacious room. The Nursery was painted the same pale baby-pink colour, with the cute stencils of frolicking nursery-rhyme characters running at knee-height around the walls. But the posters stuck to the walls - of pretty ballerinas twirling and fluffy kittens playing - were brand-new. There was a high wooden shelf above the dresser that was new, too, and it was festooned with a line-up of seated dolls and teddy bears, some of which I recognised.

I found my usual pink baby bottle full of green-tinted water lying beside me. As soon as I spotted it, I spat out my dum-dums. I snatched up the huge plastic bottle and plunged the clear silicon teat into my mouth, gratefully slurping down the spearmint-flavoured water. I stretched out my little legs in relative luxury in the roomier, longer crib. I sucked harder on the nipple as I tried to recall how I ended up home in my Nursery. I remembered finishing my lunch in Aunty Cath's sunny back yard while sitting beside her pool, but it appeared that my cousin Bonnie and her friend Tammy had lost their appetite.

As soon as my Aunty disappeared from view, Tammy tremulously moaned, "I just wet my nappy again!" She didn't sound happy about it this time.
"Me too," Bonnie confessed in a low voice. "I almost shat myself when Mum told me she recorded what we were doing in my bedroom."
"Where was the camcorder?"
"Sitting on the shelf over the computer - and I think it was aimed at the bed."
"Oh my God!" muttered Tammy in horror, her hollow cheeks turning a whiter shade of pale.

They glanced my way, faces fraught with tension, to see if I had any inkling of the topic under discussion. I kept munching away and ignored their concerned inquiring looks, batting my wide blue eyes and trying to act as innocent as possible. There were limp shreds of lettuce and spots of barbeque sauce spilt all over my bibbie by the time I finished eating my yummy burger. I must have stolen at least half the girls’ fries too, before Aunty Cath came strolling out to fetch me. She ordered me to my feet and then unclipped my shameful messy bibbie, while commenting sarcastically to the girls; "I saw you naughty baby girls kept yourselves quite busy while Aunty Isy and I were out!"

Neither teen could look at her, and Tammy's red face looked blisteringly hot when Aunty Cath dryly continued; "I'd give your naughty bottom a sound spanking, Baby Tammy - but after watching your little… performance on that video - I doubt it would do you any good! I've called your mother instead. She's on her way over here now. You wicked baby girls can sit out here dressed as you are and wait for her." In a flash, all the blood seemed to leech from Tammy's gorgeous face again. She wobbled unsteadily on the padded vinyl lounge cushion like she was about to pass out.

I ignored Aunty Cath when she stuck one hand inside the snug elastic waistband of my Barbie-pink PVC panties to check my nappy. Fortunately, I was still mostly dry. "Come on, Baby Jennie. Hold Aunty's hand and I'll walk you out to the car," she ordered me with a condescending smirk. Then she addressed my hang-dog cousin. "Aunty Isy doesn't want to see you at the moment, Bonnie. She's too angry with you. But she's going to think up a suitable punishment for you. I've already told her - however she chooses to punish you is perfectly acceptable to me. You've been a very bad little girl, and Mummy is ashamed of you." This time it was Bonnie's turn to blush crimson.

My Mummy was already sitting behind the wheel of her white Camry when Aunty Cath led me toddling out the front. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised when my Aunty opened the back door and lifted me into a huge toddler car seat. It was pastel-pink - of course - with pictures of Disney Princesses all over it, too. I glanced a trifle enviously at Angie's smaller, plain, musk-pink toddler seat sitting beside me. As soon as Aunty Cath securely buckled me in, she gave my bulging panty crotch a crisp farewell pat and brusquely kissed me on the cheek. "Try and be good, baby girl," she urged me with a thin-lipped smile. She slammed closed the car door, kissed my mother’s cheek and walked off.

Before Mummy drove away, she leaned one arm over the back of her seat and turned to face me, her expression worried. "Are you okay, baby?" she demanded, her pretty face creased with concern.
"Yeth Mummy," I replied around a cavernous yawn, catching my dummy as it fell. "I'm tired but, Mummy," I finished, unable to keep the childish whine of complaint out of my voice. "Are we going home now?"
"So the girls didn't mistreat you while Mummy was out?"
"No Mummy," I replied, sounding as exhausted as I felt. "Can we go home now? I wanna go home," I bleated, shoving my dum-dums back between my lips and sucking rhythmically on the soothing rubber teat.
"Alright, darling, alright. Mummy will take you straight home for a nap." She turned to the front and started driving, but I must have fallen asleep within minutes.

I lay on my back in my cot, one hand cupped over the soggy warm front of my nappy as I thirstily slurped from my huge pink baby bottle. Mummy must have released me from the car seat's restraints and carried me upstairs without waking me. I really must have slept like a baby! That thought made my sensitive clittie start to swell inside my warm wet nappy. I fondled the growing bulge I could detect through the clinging damp layers, thinking, ‘I’m just a baby - a helpless little baby girl.’ Then I started to recall the erotic scene in the cabana with Tammy, and instantly my throbbing clittie was as hard as it had ever been. I wondered what happened to the gorgeous petite blonde when her mummy arrived to pick her up? Was she destined to end up in diapers just like me? I tried to imagine what kind of punishment my Mummy would dream up for Bonnie, too.

"You've almost finished that bottle already," Mummy airily commented, startling me from my erotic diaper fantasies. "Good girl." I snatched my hand from my throbbing wet crotch and my smiling Mummy replaced it with one of her own. She must have been able to tell I was hard and excited inside my deliciously damp diapers, but she merely patted the tenting front of my Barbie-pink PVC panties and sang, "Ooo, such a wet baby girl! Finish up your bottle first and then I'll change your nappy, sweetheart." I slurped down the last remaining drops of spearmint-flavoured water, and Mummy took the empty bottle from my hands and placed it on top of the new pink-painted chest of drawers.

When she returned to the side of the cot, she glanced down to make sure her foot was treading on the release lever. She deftly caught the heavy metal side when it began to drop. It clanged noisily out of the way, sliding down until the top rail was almost level with the top of the mattress. "Here baby, let Mummy lift you down," she crooned, smiling invitingly. "Your new crib is a little higher than the old one, and Mummy will have to help you to climb in and out." As soon as I was steady on my feet, Mummy led me waddling slowly over to the new change table. It was taller than my old one, too, and a little wider and longer. When she lifted me up I found the vinyl-covered, padded top was softer than the old change table too. I thought the unending Disney Princess theme was a little overdone. Somehow the bigger table made me feel even smaller and more infantile when I lay back and compliantly spread my knees. Mummy unclipped the crotch of my pink onesie and moved the front and rear flaps out of the way. "Upsy-daisy," she cooed, smiling down at me when I sleepily obeyed.

My clittie was still mostly hard when she lowered the warm wet front of my nappy. Fortunately Mummy didn't seem perturbed by my slowly shrivelling stiffie. It perked up a bit when she scrubbed my shaft and ball sack with the cool moist baby wipes, but the head was still so sensitive, it practically disappeared when she scoured the sticky powder remnants from the delicate single eye. She powdered me generously front and back, cooing to me like I was her sweet baby girl while she massaged in the lightly-perfumed talc. Soon I was properly dressed in a comfy thick nappy and some fresh pastel-pink plastic panties. Mummy then sat me up and pulled my tiered pink gingham frock over my head and raised arms.

When my head popped free of the collar of my sleeveless dress, I found I was staring at Mummy's beautiful face from mere inches away, and there were concerned frown lines marring her normally-smooth forehead. Her olive-green eyes bored into mine and her tone sounded worried when she asked, "Baby Jennie? Why didn't you tell Mummy that your cousins had tricked you into wetting the bed?"

I paused for a few seconds, collecting my thoughts before I replied. "I didn't know, Mummy - until a few dayth ago, that ith. But I gueth I didn't bother telling you, 'cauthe I thought you wouldn't believe me."
"Why not, honey?" Even though she tried to keep her tone even, she couldn't help sounding affronted by my assumption.
My cheeks began to warm when I reluctantly admitted, "I've alwayth been a hopeleth panty-wetter, Mummy. You know that." She sighed and nodded her head in agreement, and I continued, "I thought it wouldn't make any differenth. Anyway, you decided to thtart our potty-twaining the next day, and I figured I'd be out of nappieth in a few dayth."

Mummy's expression turned mournful as she clipped the pink plastic chain of my dummy to the collar of my gingham frock. "Well that certainly hasn't happened. Has it, baby girl?"
"No Mummy," I sadly confirmed. She dumped my wet nappy and my damp Barbie-pink PVC panties in the big white diaper pail with my name on it. It wasn't until she lifted me down that I remembered that she hadn't seated me on the potty after nap time. "What about my potty," I mumbled around the teat of my dum-dums. She took my hand and led me waddling downstairs.

"After what I learned today, I think we'll delay your potty-training for the rest of the day, baby girl," Mummy replied with a kind smile. "We can start again tomorrow. Okay, Baby Jennie?"
"Yeth Mummy," I willingly agreed, relieved I didn't have to worry about accidentally wetting or soiling my nappies for one more day. But Mummy wasn't finished yet.

"But here's the thing, baby girl,” she added. “Your Aunty Bonnie may have been responsible for you ending up in nappies again - but she's not the one keeping you in them. It's up to you now, you know? You have to learn to be toilet-trained, sweetie. I don't want to send you back to school in nappies - but I will if I have to!" We reached the bottom of the stairs and she turned to face me once me. Her olive-green eyes bored into mine when she demanded, "Is that clearly understood, little one?"
"Yeth Mummy. I underthtand," I mumbled contritely, feeling my cheeks flush warmly with shame once more. If only I could learn to control myself!

We shuffled into the sunroom hand-in-hand, where we found my sister playing with her Barbies in her dollhouse. Angie's face lit up when she saw me waddling in, and she squealed in delight. "Baby Jennie! Come play Barbies with me." My two Barbies were still sitting inside the huge dollhouse, and when I took them in my hands, I smiled with pleasure at the tasteful outfits I had last chosen for them to wear. Mummy watched our contented role-playing games for a few minutes until with a smile and a knowing nod, she wandered off to attend to her own affairs. We must have been playing happily for about an hour before Mummy returned, carrying a purple sippy-cup for Angie and my usual filled pink baby bottle. She clipped a clean pink bibbie around my neck before handing me my bottle, and I accepted the heavy vessel gratefully.

I lay back on the floor with my head on my pink teddy, and sucked contentedly on my sloshing bottle of watered-down apple juice. It was the one with the nipple hole that Bonnie had so thoughtfully widened, so it was easy to suck out the contents. When the soggy wet front of my nappy cupped my sensitive genitals like a moist loving hand, I realised I must have already drenched my nappy more than once. Angie sat beside me drinking from her sippy-cup, and when I glanced her way, I could see her superior smirk around the purple plastic spout. Then I heard a high clear voice that almost caused me to choke on my juice.

"Hello? Mrs R? Jeremy? Hello? Is anyone home?" I heard our neighbour Sally Green's out-of-breath questions and the back screen door slam shut at the exact same time. Sally's family had been away on holidays for the last two weeks, and I hadn't noticed the Green's return. My heart froze when her pretty inquisitive face appeared in the kitchen doorway, just as she called out; "Jeremy? Mrs R? Mum said Angie hadn't RSVP'd for Daisy's birthday party- Oh! Hello, girls. Hi, Angie. Who's your little friend? Where's Jeremy?"
"Jeremy's gone," Angie replied with a contented smile. She pointed to where I lay on the floor. "Baby Jennie's here now."
"Baby- Oh my God! Is that... Jeremy? Is that you?"

The pretty thirteen-year-old was dressed in an oversized white, short-sleeved shirt, and a pair of baggy khaki shorts that hung to her knees. She was wearing a colourful bikini top underneath, and I could see the swell of her proud young bosom through the sheer white cotton shirt. Below her golden tanned calves, her sandshoes were old and scuffed, although her shoulder-length, tawny-blonde hair was centre-parted and neatly brushed. Her pretty face was narrow and angular, her chin slightly pointy. When she grew angry, she had a tendency to look hatchet-faced. Today her bright-blue eyes glowed from out of her smiling bronzed face, and she looked like she had just stepped off a beach - which she had.

I let my half-full bottle drop the instant I realised I was still nursing on the silicone teat, accidentally spurting juice all over my frilly bibbie. I was shocked by her unexpected appearance, and a jet of wee-wees uncontrollably squirted into my damp nappy. Sally had burst in so quickly, there was hardly time for it to register before she was standing there towering over my cowering diapered form. I lay supine on the carpet dumbfounded with hot tears of shame pricking my eyes, even as my damp nappies warmed comfortingly around my botty.

Sally bent down and stuck out one hand, poking my thickly diapered crotch with her fingertips and making me cringe in embarrassment. "Jeremy?" She demanded incredulously, "Why are you dressed like that, Jeremy?"
"Stop calling her that!" my sister shrilly protested, tossing Sally a forbidding frown. "Her name is Baby Jennie!"
Sally ignored Angie's strident objections to chortle, "Man, you look really cute!" She laughed even louder after she read aloud the humiliating message on my frilly bibbie; "'Little Miss Poo-poo Panties,' hmmm?" My cheeks were burning with shame, and I fought to hold back my brimming tears.

Sally Green was my best friend, and I didn't know how I felt about her finding me dressed in my effeminate baby clothes. We had grown up together, gone to school together, even attended the same classes for most of our lives. We were so alike when we were little - skinny pre-schoolers with matching shoulder-length, platinum-blonde locks and bright blue eyes, dressed identically for most of the seasons. Sally hated wearing dresses when she was younger, and always wore shorts or jeans. People often mistook us for sisters, and I think that was one of the reasons my Daddy made me cut off all my hair. It didn't help. Sally talked her mother into letting her have her hair cut into a short boyish bob too, for a couple of years.

By the time Sally was about nine or ten years old, she only owned two dresses - and I had probably worn them more often than she did. She didn’t mind, and she often encouraged me dress up in her old frocks while we played with her dolls in her room. She seemed to understand my odd fascination with all things feminine, and she was the only person I’d ever told about wanting to be a girl. Around the age of ten her fascination with ballet started, and Sally discovered her feminine side. From that moment on, everything changed. I had to accept that two or three afternoons per week, my best friend was no longer hanging around to play with me. She was mostly busy at ballet classes.

We still remained the best of friends though, and spent most of our vacations running in and out of each other's homes. Until about a year ago, just after she turned twelve. That's when Sally started to shoot up. She'd always been short and skinny, just like me - but suddenly she grew up - and out! Her bosoms developed in a matter of months, it seemed to me. At first there were only puffy baby bumps sticking out the front of her t-shirts, like fat oversized nipples. She used to complain they were tender and got really sensitive sometimes. If I ever accidentally bumped my elbow against them, she would scream in agony and turn away from me, cupping her sore boosies with her hands and moaning quietly until the pain dissipated. Then we went to separate high schools, and we saw a lot less of each other. The next thing I knew, she was almost six inches taller than me, her shoulder-length hair had turned tawny-blonde instead of platinum, and she was wearing a proper grown-up ladies' bra.

Even though Sally was still skinny, her bum had gotten much bigger, too. I thought a big butt would make her look awkward or unattractive, but strangely, her larger caboose seemed to suit her new curvy figure. By the time she turned thirteen, our conversations became oddly stilted. I couldn't help staring at my best friend's entrancing fleshy breasts or her curvy round bottom cheeks where they poked out from the seat her tiny short-shorts, and she must have noticed my newfound fascination. I think my hungry gaze made her uncomfortable, because I didn't see her as often after that. Even though she was only a few months older than me, now she was fully a head taller, and she always seemed to be busy with her girlfriends from highschool these days, anyway.

Mummy walked into the sunroom a few seconds later. She was as surprised by Sally's unexpected appearance as I, but dissembled swiftly. "Hello Sally! Welcome home! I see you've met my new big baby girl?"
"Hi Mrs. R!" Sally cried in greeting, before turning back to confront me. "So, Jeremy? You finally told your Mum about you always wanting to be a girl, huh?"
"I- Um… I- I-" I stammered, feeling my flushed cheeks turn a rosier hue.
"She mentioned it a few days ago," Mummy informed her, with an indulgent smile for me.
"Did you tell her how often you used to borrow my dresses?" Sally artlessly demanded of me.

My mouth couldn't seem to form words properly, and Mummy smoothly interjected before I could reply. "Your dresses too, Sally?"
"Oh yes," my best friend responded with a complete lack of guile, smiling at the happy memories. "Jeremy always used to love borrowing my dresses. He adored wearing my old ballerina tutu."
"That's not her name," Angie grumpily interrupted again, climbing to her feet.

"Your tutu, too?" Mummy tried not to look surprised, but couldn't keep the expression of astonishment from her face.
Sally turned to smile up at her and nod. "When you used to babysit Daisy for us, while Mum collected me from ballet classes every week… You remember?"
"It was only a year ago that Daisy started taking classes, too," Mummy replied a tad shortly, before adding in more sugary tones; "Yes darling. Of course I remember! Go on," she encouraged the smiling blonde teenager, who was momentarily lost in her pleasant memories.

"I thought Jerry would have told you?" My Mummy shook her head and smiled ruefully. Sally shrugged her shoulders and continued. "While mum was picking me up, Daisy used to drag Jerry over our place so she could put on one of my old tutus and play ballet school. I normally used to pass on my exercises and techniques to Daisy after my classes, and one afternoon about two years back, Jerry wanted to join in."
"Jennie!" Angie forcefully insisted, placing her tiny fists on her hips and glaring at my best friend. "Her name is Baby Jennie!" She stubbornly poked out her bottom lip at Sally.
"Shh, please darling," Mummy hushed her. "Go on, Sally."

Sally turned back to me to ask, "Remember, Jerry?" I was blushing violently, my mouth agape but rendered speechless for the moment. Sally's smile turned fond when she continued to my mother, "Daisy said Jerry wanted to try on one of my tutus, too. He was standing in front of the wardrobe, touching the satiny bodices and stroking the tulle skirts, until eventually Daisy told him to stop fooling around and try one on."
"And did he?" Mummy prompted. From her knowing expression, she looked like she had already guessed the answer.

"He sure did!" Sally cackled, with barely a glance at my scarlet features. "Mum and I came home to find Daisy and Jerry prancing around together in my old tutus. My sister was giving Jerry a ballet lesson, and he was doing quite well - until we startled him and he stumbled!" She laughed aloud at the memory and continued; "Of course he wet himself when we walked in on him. Remember?" Sally turned to me and asked with a condescending smile. "Do you remember that day, Jerry?" How could I ever forget? It all started out so innocently, a little over eighteen months ago. Sally was a few months short of twelve, and Daisy was still only five at the time.

When it was time to pick up Sally from ballet school, her mum Ellen usually dropped her five-year-old daughter Daisy at our place, for the twenty minutes or so it took her to make the return journey. Our Mummies often took turns minding each other's kids, whenever they needed to pop out on short errands. Even though Daisy wanted to go to ballet classes like her big sister Sally, the school didn't accept students below the age of six. She had to wait until her next birthday, later that year. On the afternoon in question, Daisy wanted me to play at her house, and the determined little girl took my hand and dragged me over to their garage.

The Green's have a spacious double garage, but one bay had been set up as a studio for Sally to practise her dance routines. Her dad had lined one side wall with tall mirrors, there was a sprung wooden floor built over the grey concrete slab, and a professional balance bar was mounted at the correct height on the mirrored wall. Sally even had a boom-box to play CDs, and when she cranked it up for dancing, it was really loud. Standing against the back wall was an old mahogany three-door wardrobe, and when Daisy ripped open two of the doors, my eyes nearly popped out of my head.

Sally had been studying ballet for a couple of years by then. Every few months her mum bought her at least one new tutu for the concerts and eisteddfods where she regularly performed. There were skimpy white practice skirts on one upper shelf, a collection of rolled-up knitted leggings and tights I could see in a half-open drawer underneath, plus an array of ballet slippers in the open space below the drawers. But it was the items in the full-length hanging space beside it which captured my attention. Dangling from some special plastic hangers were several full dance tutus, with stretchy satiny bodices and shoestring straps, and masses of frothy tulle skirts bunched below. There were a few different sizes, all in beautiful soft pastel colours, and the impulsive five-year-old reached in and grabbed a pretty white tutu that looked the smallest. I hadn't even noticed her stripping off her shorts, sandshoes and t-shirt, and she stepped into the frothy outfit and yanked the shiny leotard up around her skinny torso with practised ease.

I was lost in a world of my own, staring in fascination at the beautiful feminine outfits remaining in the wardrobe. When I tentatively caressed the soft satiny bodice of the baby-pink tutu closest to me, my body began trembling with excitement. My little pee-pee instantly grew hard inside my undies, poking out the front of my denim shorts as I hefted the frothy, musk-pink net skirts with my palm. I was amazed at the almost-weightless, gently bouncing material.

When Daisy spoke, her piping voice startled me so much that I almost wet my pants. "That one will probably fit you." Her next forward suggestion caught me completely by surprise, and I forgot to ask if I could use their toilet - although I knew it was useless trying to pee-pee with a hard-on, anyway. "Why don't you try it on?" I gasped in embarrassment and snatched my hand away from the fabulous feminine finery as if it was on fire, feeling my cheeks flush warmly with guilt and shame. "You can - if you want to." It was as though she could read my mind!

Daisy took control of the situation by brushing me aside and taking out the pretty pink tutu. She boldly held it up against my torso, and I was certain she must have felt my skinny body shivering with excitement. "It should fit you. Go ahead," she encouraged me with a friendly smile. "Try it on." Her smile turned furtive when she quietly added, "I won't tell anyone - if you don't want me to." It was as though she instinctively realised we were doing something wrong. I didn't know why, but we both felt this activity was something we should probably conceal from the grown-ups. I went to accept the shiny pink tutu from her with trembling fingers, but she ordered, "You have to take off your shorts and t-shirt first, silly! And kick off those sneakers, too."

I turned my back to her when I pulled down my shorts, because I didn't want her to catch sight of the embarrassing stiffie tenting out the front of my pee-stained white underpants. My t-shirt joined my shoes and pants on the floor, and Daisy handed me the shimmering pink tutu. I opened the bodice wide and carefully stepped through the leg holes under her direction, while nervously keeping my back to her. I dragged the leotard bottom up my skinny little legs. I pulled the snug but stretchy, baby-pink bodice up over my shivering torso, and when the frothy tulle skirts covered my bulging stiffie in front, I sighed in relief. Only then did I dare turn to face Daisy, who smiled broadly at my feminine appearance and nodded in approval.

"You look like a pretty ballerina now, too!" she commented with a delighted smile. She straightened the bobbing flared skirts around my hips and adjusted the shoestring straps over my narrow shoulders. My pulsating stiffie was clamped against my tummy by the tight leotard, and the engorged shaft felt so hot! Daisy then flopped onto her bottom, and I watched in amazement as the five-year-old competently tied a pair of glistening leather slippers around her slender ankles. It looked so complicated; I was sure I couldn't do it. Fortunately, I didn't even have to try. There were several worn pairs of proper ballet shoes lying in the bottom of the mahogany wardrobe, all in similar shades of dusky-pink. She clambered onto her hands and knees while she poked about in the wardrobe, until she found the shoes she was seeking. I noticed Daisy's rear end was covered by row upon row of thick fluffy white lace ruffles. Her ruffled bum looked really cute poking out from under the stiff tulle layers of her underskirts, and I wondered if my seat was similarly attired. Then she ordered me to lift up one foot, and she measured one shoe against my sole.

I couldn't see what she was doing because of the wide-flared layers of bouncing musk-pink tulle bobbing around my hips, but I obediently held up my leg and tried to keep my foot still. "These should fit you," she grunted as she sat back.
"I don't think-"
"Shush up," Daisy quietened me in a firm tone of authority. Before I could lower my foot, she slipped one dusky-pink shoe into place and started looping the straps around my ankle. "Put your foot down and keep still," she sharply commanded. "This isn't as easy as it looks."

It looked impossible when I watched her do her own, but I couldn't even see what was happening below my swirling skirts. It took her a few minutes to fasten both slippers on my feet, but as soon as the last strap had been tied in place around my calf, Daisy jumped to her feet. She dragged me onto the bouncy wooden floor, and as soon as I saw my reflection in the full-length mirrors, I stumbled in shock. Except for my short, platinum-blonde hair, I looked like a real ballerina! We both did, giggling in delight as we gaily skipped about to make our stiff skirts bounce as high as possible. The stretchy satiny bodice felt as smooth as silk when I ran my trembling fingers up and down over my flat tummy and bosom, and I sighed at the rush of feminine feelings the slick sensations provoked.

Glad that my erection was still safely concealed from sight, I faced away from the mirror and glanced back over my shoulder, and then bent right over to check the rear view. Under the multiple swishing layers of musk-pink tulle, my little botty was covered by a mass of frothy baby-pink ruffles, too. I thought the extra padding over my seat made my bottom look rounder and more feminine - and somehow more attractive. My tiny feet looked so dainty in the flat ballet slippers, too, and the pink leather straps winding around my slender calves looked so pretty.

"Now come with me to the practice bar. Let me show you some things," Daisy bossily insisted. I meekly followed her directions, learning how to do the regulation warm-up stretches at the bar and attempting my first clumsy plie. My little stiffie was still hard but the concentration required to hold some of the strange uncomfortable poses eventually made it wilt. Despite the effort involved, I was having fun! I felt like a pretty ballerina, too. It was impossible not to skip and twirl at every turn, making my wide-flared skirts dance crazily around my slender hips. I smiled happily whenever I glanced at my feminine reflection in the mirrors. Naturally I forgot to keep an eye on the time. I was unsuccessfully attempting a flying leap Daisy called a 'jettez,' when the garage double door unexpectedly opened. Sally and Mrs Green were sitting open-mouthed in their family car, staring at me as I clumsily clambered to my feet.

I'd twisted my left ankle slightly in the fall, and I stumbled badly when I tried to put my weight on it. Before I could regain my footing, Mrs Green was standing beside me. She grabbed my arm and lifted me to my feet, demanding, "Jeremy sweetie? Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself, honey?" My mouth opened and closed like a gulping goldfish, but no words came out. Feelings of shame, fear and embarrassment fought to colour my face scarlet. I shook my head as I felt a warm spurt in my underpants. I clutched the bouncy tulle skirts against my crotch, trying unsuccessfully to grab the head of my leaking peenie. It was an impossible task, with the mass of stiff tulle netting blocking everything from my grasp. Then a trickle of wet warmth ran down the inside of one thigh, making me moan. I knew I was blushing furiously - I could feel the hot flush covering both cheeks, before radiating down my neck and up around my ringing ears.
"Oh no! He's wetting himself!" Daisy cried in horror, her tone reflecting the disgust of a small child who had long ago successfully mastered toilet-training.

Mrs Green cried in alarm, "Oh no, Jerry! Not again!" She swiftly scooted me off the wooden floor and onto the concrete section, but then she was less concerned. She carefully steered me along as I limped outside, ending up on the lawn in their back yard. I was sobbing with shame by the time she helped me step out of my dripping pink tutu on the grass, hoping like hell my Mummy wouldn't wander into our adjoining back yard at this inopportune moment. The padded leotard crotch and frilly panty ruffles were drenched with urine, and I cringed in embarrassment as I stood there in my saturated underpants. I tried to apologise for my mishap, but it was difficult to form words when I was crying so hard. "It's alright, honey. Aww, it's okay. Shh! Don't cry," Ellen Green reassured me. She shook out the dripping ruffles and tossed the damp dance frock on the dry grass. "You looked so feminine in this pink tutu, Jerry! I almost thought you were a real girl! If your hair was longer, you could really pass for a pretty little girl, honey."

Those were the only consoling words that actually penetrated the fog of mortification that surrounded me. I decided then and there to stop letting my Dad take me to his barber any longer. I wasn’t going to let him boss me into having my hair shaved off every month. I wanted to grow my hair out again. I didn't care what Daddy said! I wanted to look like a pretty little girl again. Sally arrived a few moments later clutching my shoes and clothes. Her mum unwound the complicated pink leather laces from around my calves, tut-tutting in annoyance when she realised some of my wee-wee had trickled down my legs to wet the thin leathers straps, too. She tossed the damp ballet slippers aside with a grunt of annoyance, commenting, "These shoes will need a good wipe-over, too."

The stony-faced woman dressed me in my t-shirt like I was incapable of dressing myself, but merely handed me my shoes and my shorts. "Don't bother putting those on, little one," she cautioned me, speaking to me like I was a hopeless toddler. "There's no point. You need to change those wet knickers first, and I think you'll need a clean pair of socks, too. Okay? Off you go to Mummy, Jerry. She'll take care of you. Go on! Go home to Mummy, honey." I limped through the gap between the oleander bushes towards my house on my damp stockinged feet, clad in only my t-shirt and my dripping undies. I clutched the dry items of clothing to my shuddering breast, sniffling back my tears of shame and wincing in pain and humiliation.

I managed to sneak up to my bedroom without Mummy catching me, and I stripped off my wet clothes and hung the undies and socks over the window sill to dry. I used the t-shirt to dry my crotch and legs, and then tossed it under my bed. As soon as I dressed in a clean t-shirt, socks and undies, I replaced my shorts and sneakers. Then I wandered downstairs to find Mummy to tell her about my twisted ankle. After a kiss and a long cuddle with Mummy, I shuffled outside to play with my friend Michael, completely forgetting to do anything about my wet things upstairs. I didn't know that my mother discovered my damp socks and undies later that afternoon. Mummy could smell urine on the underwear she found, and after dumping the smelly things in the laundry basket, she spent a frustrating half-hour searching my room for a wet pair of my shorts. She found the t-shirt under my bed, and although it was dry, it reeked of urine, too. Fortunately for me by the time she called me home for dinner, my wet clothes and the missing shorts had completely slipped her mind.

The next day at school, Sally discretely told me her mum hadn't been upset about my wearing one of her old tutus. "But," my best friend scolded me, "mum was really annoyed that she had to wash the tutu you wet, and the shoes. It took her ages and ages!" I blushed bright red and bowed my head in shame, and was relieved when Sally patted my knee forgivingly. "It's okay, Jerry. She's not upset with you any more, or anything. Really." I was hugely relieved by that news, and hoped her mum wouldn't mention anything to my Mummy. When I returned home from school that afternoon, I watched for any sign that Mummy was upset with me or wanted to talk to me about something, but she seemed completely distracted by my baby sister. Dinner that night passed without any mention of my humiliating accident, and the knot of fear in my tummy gradually unwound.

When Daisy came running over to our place the following afternoon, I felt grateful that she didn't mention my most recent wetting accident to my Mummy, or the fact that I had tried on one of Sally's tutus. Her mum had driven off to pick up Sally from ballet classes as usual, and when Daisy grabbed my hand and hauled me outside, I willingly followed her. I wanted to get the chatty little girl away from my Mummy before she said anything too embarrassing. As soon as we walked outside, Daisy trotted ahead towards her parent's garage, urging me on with an imperious wave. "Come on! Hurry up," she exhorted me. "We can do some more ballet practice before Sally gets home."

Even though I desperately wanted to wear a tutu again, I still felt acutely embarrassed about my unfortunate wetting accident, and I decided to run to the toilet first. When I joined Daisy in the garage a few minutes later, she was already dressed in her gleaming white tutu and dusky-pink ballet slippers. She had taken out the frothy pink tutu and hung it ready and waiting for me on the wardrobe door. A pair of familiar pink ballet flats sat on the floor below them, too, and I knew they were in my size. "Mummy had to hand-wash this tutu, you know," Daisy informed me with a brief frown, "and she scrubbed these shoes clean, too, so they wouldn't stink of your wee-wees." She opened one of the lower wardrobe drawers and indicated a stack of puffy pink underwear. "Mummy said if you wanted to wear a tutu and do ballet practice with us, you could - but you have to wear a pull-up underneath. That's the rule. She doesn't want to have to wash everything all over again."

The pull-ups were 'Goodnights for girls,' in a pastel-pink colour, with colourful cartoon characters printed across the wide stretchy waistband. 'They're my old ones from last year," Daisy explained. "I don't need them anymore. Mummy had most of a package left, and she said you could use them." I drew out one of the rustling pink disposable panties with trembling fingers. For a moment I considered refusing. But my stiffie was already pounding with excitement inside my shorts, and when I gazed at the shimmering baby-pink tutu hanging on the door, desire overwhelmed my sense of shame. I kicked off my shoes first, then carefully kept my back to the little girl watching me while I removed my shorts, t-shirt, and stained underwear.

I faced the wardrobe as I fed my trembling sock toes through the ruffled leg-holes and drew the pull-up over my thighs. Then I tugged the crackling papery underwear over my bobbing stiffie. The stretchy, high-waisted bedwetter panties were a fraction small for me, and firmly trapped my little hard-on against my tummy. Again I marvelled at the heat produced by my throbbing erect organ. I discretely kept facing the wardrobe until I had the pink leotard wrapped snugly around my torso. I turned to face her as I neatly arranged the elastic shoestring straps over my slender shoulders. I couldn't keep the happy smile from my face when I politely asked in a high girlish voice, "So what are you going to teach me today, Miss Daisy?"

Daisy giggled at the question and took my hand, and she led me onto the dance floor to face the mirrors. From the front, I couldn't see any sign of my new infantile underwear, even when I lifted my bouncing musk-pink skirts high and closely examined my satiny-smooth crotch in the mirror. When I turned around to check the rear view, the extra padding made the fluffy baby-pink lace ruffles across my botty poke out even more. I thought my bottom looked plumper and more feminine than ever. Daisy interrupted my narcissistic self-examination to prissily insist we start the warm-up exercises. I smiled dreamily and nodded obediently as I joined her at the bar.

When Mrs Green and Sally returned home this time, their only reaction when they caught sight of me dancing around in the pink tutu was to smile and give me a friendly wave. After they walked inside the garage, Daisy caught her mother's obvious questioning glance and brightly announced, "Don't worry, Mummy! He's wearing one of my old pull-ups under his tutu." When Sally grinned broadly at that statement, my pink cheeks turned a rosier hue and I bowed my head in shame.
Mrs Green's only response was to smile and say; "Good girl, Daisy! And you too, Jerry. That's all I ask, kids. Okay?" Was she telling me I was a good girl too? My heart fluttered in my chest. I didn't know whether I should feel embarrassed or thrilled.
"Yes Mummy," Daisy intoned, and I silently nodded in red-faced agreement.

Sally intervened at that point, telling us she wanted to show us something she'd learned in class today. She was still wearing her normal work-out outfit, consisting of a black leotard and tights. She slipped a short practice tutu made from dangling feathery strips of pink and white chiffon over the top, so she would feel dressed up like the other girls. As soon as she tied on her ballet shoes, we returned to the practice bar and did some more warm-up exercises. It felt like Sally's mum was standing there staring at my ruffled padded bum for ages. I discretely watched her reflection in the mirror while I practised my plies. Mrs Green smiled and nodded in what I hoped was approval before walking inside the house.

From that day on and for the next six or seven months, I used to go over to the Green’s garage two or three times a week and dress up in a rustling pink pull-up, my gorgeous pink tutu, and my ballet slippers. I would practise warm-ups and some basic steps with Daisy until Sally and her mum returned, and then we would spend at least another half-hour going over some of the techniques and routines Sally had learned in class that day. That was when Sally taught me to curtsey like a polite little girl, too. Her mum had giggled and covered her mouth with her hand when I demurely curtsied for her one afternoon, but her only comment was; "Oh my God! That's so adorable!" I had no idea how many pull-ups were in a packet, or that Daisy's remaining unused disposable panties must have been used up in a few short weeks. The wardrobe drawer was always full of the rustling papery underwear. I didn't realise that Ellen Green had been buying a fresh package for me every month, ever since my ‘ballet lessons’ began.

I never wet my pants again during our ballet classes. Well, not really wet them... There were a few occasional damp spots, but those didn't count. I always made sure I went to the toilet just before Daisy arrived to collect me on those Monday, Wednesday and Friday afternoons, about an hour after I got home from school. I always had to wear one of the puffy pink pull-ups anyway. As Daisy firmly reminded me; "That's the rule. Mummy said." When the weather grew cooler, we sometimes wore special dance tights under our leotards, either white or flesh-coloured, made from a stretchy lycra-nylon blend. The wide elastic waistbands always came up high over my belly button, and I loved the way the snug material pressed my pull-up tightly against my groin. It always made me feel wonderfully safe and secure, although I couldn't have explained why. I thought my legs always looked smoother and sleeker when I was wearing the flesh-coloured tights, too. I loved the silky feminine feeling whenever I caressed my lycra-clad thighs.

In the middle of winter, we all wore these cute pastel-pink bolero jackets, made from the softest fluffy lambs wool, with short backs and three-quarter length sleeves. I thought we looked so cute in our matching jackets. We sometimes wore knitted legwarmers over our tights, too. My toeless, baby-pink leggings had a stirrup that passed under the arch of the foot, and then Daisy would tie my ballet slippers on for me. My knitted legwarmers were long and stretchy enough to pull up almost to the crotch of my leotard, like sexy grown-up ladies' stockings, but most of the time we left them flopping around below our knees. I loved wearing my pretty pink legwarmers, too. I always thought the extra bulk bunched around my calves only made my little footsies look even daintier.

I never told anyone, but sometimes I used to leave my dry pull-up on when I changed back into my shorts after dancing. I would secretively stuff my balled-up underpants in one pocket. That way if I had a bit of an accident during the afternoon, I could remove the damp disposable underwear, dump it in the trash, and then replace my clean undies without Mummy ever finding out. After the papery pull-ups protected me from one particularly embarrassing accident in front of my friends, I decided to keep wearing them after every ballet class. I'm pretty sure no-one ever noticed the extra padding around my bottom and groin, or heard the tell-tale rustling sound the papery pull-ups sometimes made when I walked around. I found occasion to wear the disposables even on the days when we weren't dancing, and I'm pretty sure no-one noticed the missing panties from the drawer. Sometimes I even left my pull-up on after I wet it a little. I found the humid warmth wrapped around my genitals both soothing and exciting. I'd always assumed my Mummy never found any of my wet pink pull-ups in our garbage bin. Now I wasn't so sure.

Unfortunately for me, a few months later Daisy turned six. She was then allowed to attend ballet classes, too. After that, she wasn't so interested in doing extra practice at home afterwards. Sally had filled out by then, too, and she obviously had other things on her mind apart from running a dance studio for little kids in her dad's garage. Our classes proceeded as normal for a couple more months, but slowly things changed. We missed a few days of practice here and there at first, then there was a week of no classes. We got together to dress up and dance a couple of times after that, but sporadically. Then a few weeks of the holidays passed without a lesson, and that was it. Even though the whole experience had been delightful for me, I regretfully chalked it off as a done deal.

I did sneak over to their garage and try on a tutu and my ballet slippers on my own a couple of times, while their family was out. They often left the side door of the garage unlocked, so I usually had access. It wasn't as much fun dressing up without the other girls present, although I cheekily took the opportunity to wear my tutu without any underpants or a pull-up underneath, either. Even though I knew I was being naughty, it felt wonderful when I rubbed my rock-hard erection through the clinging satiny leotard front. Sometimes I would dance in front of the mirror with my stiff tool pounding against my tummy, as I twirled and whirled like the beautiful ballerina I was in my dreams. My little stiffie would get so hard and excited, I would pause facing the mirror, and then frantically caress the front of my silky leotard over my throbbing little tool for ten or fifteen minutes at a time.

Sometimes I fantasised about being a beautiful little girl, who was pampered and coddled by her loving Mummy. Other times I dreamed I was the most beautiful ballerina in the whole world, and everyone had come to watch me perform on stage. I skipped, hopped and pirouetted for my adoring audience on the other side of the mirror. I assumed no-one would notice the tiny stains I sometimes left behind in the front of my tutu crotch. But one day I found the garage side door securely locked, and there was no access through the double garage door without the remote control. When I occasionally checked over the ensuing weeks, my entrance remained barred. After a while, I stopped going over to check, and my dreams of being a beautiful ballerina faded into the mists of time.

My thoughts were ripped back to the present when Sally commented, "I'm glad he finally told you about wanting to be a girl. I've been telling him to tell you for years!" Mummy's perfect arched eyebrows crawled up her forehead at that comment. I didn't think my face could get any hotter, but then Sally asked, "But why the nappies and baby panties, Mrs R.? Why is Jeremy-"
"Baby Jennie!" Angelica shouted, and Mummy frowned and raised a warning finger at her.
"-Baby Jennie dressed like a baby?" Sally completed the question, her expression mirroring her confusion.

Mummy replied, "Two weeks ago, I started potty-training Angelica, and Baby Jennie - Jeremy - mocked her and laughed at her." I wondered in amazement, 'Was it really only two weeks ago?' Mummy tossed a quick warning frown in Angie's direction, wordlessly advising my cranky sister to remain silent. Angie shut her mouth with a loud 'plop' and Mummy continued her explanation. "Angie threw such a tantrum; I knew it would be a real problem getting her to sit on the potty again. And when I discovered that Jerry had wet his pants again that same day, I decided to kill two birds with one stone. I spoke to my husband, and we decided to put Jerry back in nappies again - and dress him like Angie, too. We hoped that when we started potty-training both of them two weeks later, Angie would be willing to follow her brother's example."

Angelica could no longer restrain herself. "Her name is Baby Jennie, Mummy!" she stridently insisted, "She's not my brother. She's my baby sister!"
"Alright, darling, alright," Mummy soothed her, patting her shoulder reassuringly. "Let me finish. Fortunately, our plan worked. My husband made a new potty-chair for Baby Jennie and a couple of days ago, Angie happily followed her example by sitting on her pot-pot and doing her business on the potty for the very first time." Mummy sounded so proud when she added, "She's been successfully using her potty ever since, like a big girl."
"Yes, Sally! Look!" Angelica insisted, raising the tiered skirts of her pink gingham outfit to proudly show off her puffy pink underwear. "I'm a big girl now! I wear pull-ups and I take them off to go to the potty, all by my own self!" Sally smiled brightly at her and nodded in approval, but Mummy looked grim at the endless interruptions. I hoped Sally wouldn't mention that her mum always insisted I wear similar pink pull-ups under my tutu, too.

"Unfortunately Sally," and here Mummy turned her frown on me, "my naughty Baby Jennie hasn't been quite so successful. She can't seem to stop wetting and pooping her nappies. She doesn't seem to want to use the potty like her big sister Angelica. So I told her that if she wanted to continue acting like a silly baby girl, that's how we would treat her."
Sally smiled and nodded, as if Mummy’s explanation made perfect sense. "Why the name 'Baby Jennie'?" she queried, her bemused pale-blue eyes shifting from my blushing red face to Mummy's and back again.

Mummy smiled at the memory when she explained, "She chose it for herself. One of the carers at the Church Nursery asked my baby what her name was, and she told them, ‘Baby Jennie’." I clumsily sat up, and Mummy leaned down to softly stroke my bowed head. She crouched down and straightened one of the tangled tiers of my gingham frock. "We've all been calling her that, lately. I guess she looks so much like a pretty little girl in her gorgeous toddler frocks, it was embarrassing for her to be called by a boy's name when we were out in public. So she's my sweet little Baby Jennie now. Well, Sally? What do you think of my big baby girl?"
"Gosh Mrs. R! She's- It's a mind-blower! But he - I mean, she - looks adorable!" Sally grinned, and then began to laugh. She suddenly asked, "But why the baby bottle and that bib? I mean, he- Ah, excuse me, she was nursing on a baby's bottle?"

Mummy looked from me to Sally and then informed her, "I warned Baby Jennie yesterday; if she didn't try harder to stay dry like Angelica, I would treat her more like the hopeless little baby she's been acting. Every day she refuses to use the potty properly like a big girl, she is reduced in status. Soon she'll be back to being treated like a six-month-old infant if she's not careful. Now promise me you won't say anything to your friends, please Sally? I don't want my naughty child's diaper punishment to be the talk of your school. After all - providing I can finally potty-train this little Missy - she might be attending your school next year." Both Sally's and my eyes bugged out of our heads at that astounding piece of news. Sally went to an all-girls' high school on the other side of our suburb. I didn't know that Justine, the gorgeous red-head from the Church Nursery, also attended the same school, although she was in year ten. Sally was about to start year eight, the same as me.

"Don't tell anyone? Boy, Mrs. R! That's going to be a hard promise to keep!” Sally laughed. “I mean, she's adorable! I'd love to tell all my friends all about this little cutie!" Sally paused to think for a few seconds, and then her expression brightened. "Okay - but on one condition. I want to take her to my little sister's seventh birthday party on Sunday afternoon, okay? She'll love it! It's a 'Fairy Princess' party, and all the girls will be wearing tutus and fairy wings. Baby Jennie can even wear that old pink tutu of mine; the one she used to love wearing. She's hardly grown since then, and I'm pretty sure it will still fit her."
"Yay!" My sister threw her hands in the air and danced on the spot in excitement. "A Fairy Princess party!" She turned to stare entreatingly at Mummy, her little face a mask of concern. "Can Baby Jennie come too? It'll be such fun! You didn't forget the party, Mummy - did you?"

Mummy laughed away her fears. "No sweetie. The invitation is still on the fridge door, remember? Mummy didn't forget." She turned to Sally. "Sorry I didn't RSVP. I thought I already told your mum that Angie could go." Mummy paused for a few seconds, biting her bottom lip in concern before continuing. "I just wish you'd mentioned Baby Jennie's fascination with your ballet dresses a long time ago, Sally," she remarked to my grinning friend. Mummy turned her evaluating gaze in my direction. "But we won't need to borrow one of your old tutus, darling," she added, although her olive-green eyes never left my blushing red face. "If Baby Jennie loves dressing up in your ballet tutus so much; it's about time we bought her one of her own."

"So it's a deal then?" Sally demanded, grinning madly at my astonished expression and Angelica's delighted squeals.
"It's a deal!" Mummy laughingly agreed, and they both shook hands on the contract.
"Well Baby Jennie, you're about the cutest big baby girl I've ever seen! I wish I could stay and help change your wet nappy, but I have to run." She turned to Mummy and asked, "I'll check with my mum that it's okay for Baby Jennie to come to Daisy's party, alright? See you later, baby. Bye everyone." She waved to the room, laughed loudly at the expression on my face, and swiftly disappeared through the door to the kitchen. Moments later we heard the back screen door slam behind her.

Mummy only chuckled at my aghast expression. How did Sally know I was wet? Angie scampered from the room, squealing that she needed to do a poo on the potty. Mummy seemed in no hurry to follow her. She had grown confident of her daughter's ability to use her potty all by herself. She took the time to grab my chin and give my head a little shake. "At least now you'll own your own tutu, baby, so you can stop borrowing the other girls'. And Mummy would love to see her little girl twirling around like a pretty fairy in her swishy dance tutu. Now put that nipple back in your mouth and finish your juice like a good little girl, while I go and check on your sister. She's using her potty like a big girl! Then I can finish cooking our dinner, and maybe Angie can help Mummy feed you in the highchair tonight," Mummy suggested with a wicked teasing smile, before heading towards the hallway and the downstairs bathroom.

To be continued in chapter 26.

Please leave a comment here if your are enjoying this naughty sissy-AB tale.
Baby Jennie

Synopsis; Aunty Cath reviews the recording of her daughter Bonnie and her girlfriend Tammy playing on Bonnie's bed. When Cath realises a third person is in the recording, she calls her sister Isabell and arranges a viewing.

To Baby Renee - thank you for all the lovely comments. I'm glad you're enjoying this long-winded sissy-AB story.

Chapter 26. Sex, Lies, and DVDs.

I was sitting in my highchair - my old pink wooden highchair - and Mummy and Angie were taking turns feeding me some of Mummy's tasty tuna and egg casserole, when there was an unexpected knock at the open back door. I love Mummy's tuna mornay, and I had been hoeing in with a vengeance. "Come in," Mummy yelled, making me jump. As a result, there was cheesy casserole sauce smeared all over my face when Ellen Green and her daughter Daisy came strolling through the door. Not to mention the mess splattered all over my bib too, as a result of Angie's clumsy attempts to spoon-feed me. My sister was being allowed to help feed me dinner tonight, as a reward for doing a poo-poo in her yellow potty this afternoon and successfully wiping clean her own bottom unassisted.

Our visitors looked tanned, fit and healthy when they walked into the kitchen. Seven-year-old Daisy started to snicker in contempt as soon as she laid eyes on me. I could feel my cheeks blush warmly with embarrassment below the thick crust of drying food. I cowered in my infantile highchair, but escape was impossible. Daisy reminded me of a skinnier, slightly taller version of Sally at around the same age. The sniggering wide-eyed girl was dressed in a pastel-blue t-shirt and a short denim skirt. Her mother had more self-control, and Ellen Green merely smiled thinly at the sight of the overgrown baby girl in the highchair being spoon-fed her din-dins. "Hello, Isabell, hello Angie. And this must be Baby Jennie?" Ellen was dressed casually, too, in a pale-yellow t-shirt and faded blue jeans, with a light white Summer cardigan over the top.

"Hi Ellen, hello Daisy, Welcome home," Mummy greeted the skinny thin-faced woman. Our neighbour tried in vain to stop her bemused smile from turning condescending. "Yes, this is my Baby Jennie. I assume Sally told you; she wants to invite my special big baby girl to Daisy's birthday party?"
"Hi Aunty Ellen, hi Daisy," my sister effusively greeted our two visitors. She clutched the sniggering girl's hand when she entreated, "Can Baby Jennie come to your Fairy Princess party, too, please Daisy? Please? Pretty please?"

Before Daisy could reply, our Mummy intervened. "Angelica? You ate up all your dinner like a good girl, so why don't you go and wash your face and hands in the bathroom. Okay sweetie?" Angie nodded but before she could walk away, Mummy asked, "Do you need to use the potty again, sweetheart?"
"No thank you Mummy," Angie proudly responded. My sister tossed a superior smirk in my direction before dancing away towards the downstairs bathroom.
"Good girl," Mummy warmly praised her retreating back, beaming with pride for her well-trained daughter.
"Go with Angie, honey," Mrs Green urged Daisy, giving her bemused daughter a push in the direction of my sister. "Make sure she's okay. Let the grown-ups talk for a few minutes." The grinning seven-year-old kept her wide blue eyes on my blushing red face until she left the room, and then both women turned to examine me. I shrank back in my highchair, but restrained by the snug leather seatbelt and the tight wooden tray, I had nowhere to turn.

Mummy returned to feeding me the rest of my dinner, scraping my colourful plastic Barbie bowl clean with the pink rubber-coated spoon. "How was your vacation, Ellen?" she asked conversationally, as if spoon-feeding a sissified teenage baby in a highchair was hardly worth mentioning.
Mrs. Green's pale-blue eyes remained glued on my messy flushed features. I struggled to swallow the last few bites of the casserole through a throat that had tightened in shame. "Oh fine," Ellen faintly responded, sounding highly distracted. "We had two weeks of mostly glorious weather, and the girls spent almost every day at the beach." I could tell she was dying to question Mummy about my new infantile status.

"That's good," Mummy murmured. She used the rubber-coated spoon to scrape off the bigger pieces smeared around my mouth before feeding them to me again. "Good bubba," she tenderly crooned to me in encouragement, sounding like she was talking to a real baby. “That’s a good girl! Eat it all up for Mummy!” There were a couple of cheesy lumps of tuna spattered on my bib, too. Mummy scooped them up and steered the loaded spoon towards my mouth one more time. I didn't want any more to eat. I had suddenly lost my appetite, and my throat felt too constricted to swallow another mouthful. Instead of protesting like a sensible adult that I was full, I simply turned my face away from the approaching spoon and pursed my lips closed like a sulky toddler. This only resulted in more sticky mess being smeared all over my stained cheek. "Oops!" Mummy cried reproachfully, "Oh baby!"

"Ooo, I think your little girl has a full tummy," chuckled Ellen, her hatchet face breaking into a broad smile.
Mummy scraped the food from my rosy red cheek and then cooed, "Come, on, sweetie! Show Aunty Ellen how you eat up all your din-dins like a good baby girl. Open wide for Mummy. Come on, darling. You can do it. Open up, Baby Jennie." She was speaking down to me like I was a useless one-year-old, and I knew my messy cheeks were scarlet with embarrassment. I opened my mouth and let her shovel in the last scraps, if only to end this humiliating charade.

"There you are, baby! All gone! Good baby!" Mummy sang brightly to me, dumping the spoon in the bowl and gently clapping her hands. "What a clever baby girl!" Ellen smiled approvingly and gave me a little clap too. Like a stupid fool, I thoughtlessly joined in their applause. They both beamed down at me in delight, like I was such a well-behaved toddler, until I realised what I was doing. I stopped abruptly and suddenly I didn't know what to do with my hands, feeling my cheeks colouring hotly with shame once more. Mummy dumped my spoon and bowl in the sink while suggesting, "Let me just wipe down the baby's face and hands first, Ellen. Then we can have a chat in the sunroom while she's having her bottle in her highchair."
"I wanted to talk to you about your Jere- Baby Jennie playing dress-ups with my girls last year," Ellen hesitantly began. At first she appeared reluctant to speak freely in front of me, but the more Mummy continued talking to me and treating me like a helpless toddler, the more reassured our neighbour seemed.

Ellen looked a bit guilty when she added, "I really wanted to tell you at the time, but after I discussed it with my husband, he told me not to interfere."
"Uh-huh," Mummy responded. She vigorously scrubbed my cheeks clean with a warm soapy washer. I whined in discomfort and tried to pull my face away like a cranky infant, but she was too experienced a mother for my infantile avoidance tactics. Her other hand moved to the back of my head to clamp me in place. She kept scrubbing my lips and chin until she was certain my face was pink and shining-clean. My hands weren't too bad, as I hadn't actually been allowed to touch my food - or any utensils. Mummy tossed the dirty damp washcloth in the sink and then handed me one of my pink baby bottles full of green-tinted water. "Here you go, baby. Drink up for Mummy like a good little girl," she urged me in syrupy toddler tones. I gratefully took the heavy bottle with both hands and stuck the nipple between my lips to help cover my sulky scowling mouth and flushed cheeks. “Good baby!”

Ellen smiled at the babyish picture of rosy-cheeked innocence I made, slurping noisily from my big pink baby bottle while bound securely in my highchair, my filthy frilly bibbie still clipped in place. I didn't realise she was admiring my new diamond stud earrings, my long fluttering eyelashes, my pink-stained lips and my pretty pink fingernails, too. Her smile grew broader when she deciphered beneath the spilled food the humiliating message embroidered across my breast, and I was glad she didn't read the words aloud. My frill-laden pink bib proclaimed me to be 'Mummy's Princess Potty-Pants.' Ellen tore her eyes from the revealing inscription with difficulty, and concentrated on speaking to my mother as she tried to explain.

"When I first caught him - her - your Baby Jennie, dressing up in Sally's old tutu in our garage, I thought I should mention it to you. But then he did wet his pants that first time, and I sent him home to find you for a fresh change of underwear. I assumed you would ask him why he had wet undies and socks, but no wet pants. When you didn't bring it up, I figured you were a bit embarrassed by his sissy behaviour, so I decided not to say anything - unless you brought it up first."
"I remember that day," Mummy murmured with a far-away look in her olive-green eyes. "I found her wet panties and socks. I wasted almost an hour looking for her wet shorts."

Ellen glanced at my vacant wide-eyed expression, listening to me thirstily suckling from my bottle teat like a hungry baby, before pulling a DVD in a clear crystal case from the back pocket of her blue jeans. "My husband Bob was a little nervous when I told him about… Baby Jennie playing with our daughters without any adult supervision. I wasn't really concerned, but he insisted we set up our nannycam in the garage. There's a bit of footage I recorded that you should watch. I also videotaped the girls when they gave me a little performance, after they'd been rehearsing together for several months. I have to admit, your little… ahh, your little girl was really getting quite good towards the end. I actually think she might have some real talent. There are another couple of later, other, um… err… performances, that I thought you should see, too. I put them all on this DVD so you could take a look, if you wanted."

I didn't know what a 'nannycam' was, but Mummy seemed to understand what our neighbour was talking about. I remembered when Sally's mum had come out to the garage with her old camcorder to film us - at Daisy's insistence. Even though I really didn't want anyone filming me while I was prancing about in my pretty pink tutu, the girls eventually talked me into it. Sally convinced me that with my longer hair, my tiny waist and my pretty features, no-one would know I wasn't a girl - unless somebody told them. She and her little sister both swore on a stack of bibles that they would never tell anyone, so I reluctantly agreed. I had to admit; part of me secretly wanted to see what I looked like dancing around like a pretty ballerina on the television, and that definitely swayed my decision.

Daisy, Sally and I had been practising one single routine for weeks under Sally's strict tutelage. We'd been working out together regularly for months by this time, usually three afternoons per week, and even for an hour or two some Saturday afternoons. Sally was an absolute slave-driver - but I loved it! I started feeling proud of my growing ability to follow some of the more complicated steps. My pointe work was still a little shaky, but I was beginning to master my pirouettes. I always felt so wonderfully feminine as I twirled about on my tippy-toes, my frothy net skirts swishing noisily around my hips, trying to keep sight of my spinning reflection in the mirror the way Sally taught me.

Mrs Green hadn't really seen me dance for months, and she looked pleasantly surprised by my new-found skills when we performed for her. We'd managed to piece together a four-minute routine to some music from 'The Nutcracker Suite,' which belted out from Sally's boom-box in the corner. When the day came to tape our performance, Sally asked her mum if she would do our make-up first. Ellen Green laughingly agreed, and we all had to swan into her bathroom dressed in our swishing tutus, one by one sit on a chair, and lean back with our chins tilted up so she could paint our faces. Sally went first, then Daisy, and I went last. I grew more and more excited as I impatiently waited to take my turn, watching their mother transform the girls’ eager young faces with thick stage make-up. She was an expert at applying false eyelashes, too, as I soon learned. Sally's mum had a whole collection of special make-up for her stage performances, and her mother knew made-up faces showed up better on videotape, too.

I sat back with a thrill of excitement when it was my turn, hoping Mrs Green wouldn't spot my stiff clittie poking out beneath my frothy tulle skirts. I loved the delicately-perfumed liquid foundation and base powders she used on me, and easily endured the odd pressing on my eyelids when she glued my long fluttering false eyelashes in place. "They come off very easily," Ellen assured me, but I couldn't have cared less. My eyebrows had almost disappeared beneath the thick coating of skin-toned foundation, but she drew in new ones with a mid-brown pencil, along the top of my sparse blonde fuzz. My new, feminine arched eyebrows gave me a child-like expression of innocent wonder when I glanced at my reflection in the mirror, and I giggled in delight. Eyeliner, glossy pale-blue eye-shadow and pink blush followed, and I smiled like a happy little girl as she made me beautiful. I loved the smell and feel of make-up, and I felt like a pampered little Princess when a smiling Mrs Green leaned over me, innocently indulging me in some of my wildest fantasies. After she finished painting my lips with a brilliant fuchsia-pink lipstick, I stared at my reflection in their bathroom mirror, amazed by my transformed, feminised features.

After fluffing out my slowly-growing hair with some gel and a brush, Mrs Green shepherded her painted little dolls out to the garage, bouncing and squealing with excitement. We tried to suppress our nervous giggles, and assumed our positions on the dance floor while she started the camera recording. At the end of our routine we collapsed together on the springy wooden floor in fits of shrieking laughter, falling about like silly little girls in our gorgeous frothy tutus - all of which their laughing mum captured on videotape. I remembered watching the recording with the girls and their mummy afterwards in their living room, and I was thrilled by my convincingly feminine appearance and dainty dancing. I loved wearing make-up, and didn't want to take it off - ever! They practically had to drag me back to the bathroom to wash my face afterwards. I was the last of the pretty ballerinas to have her face scrubbed clean by a chortling Mrs Green. If only my hair had been longer…

My pleasant reminiscence was interrupted when Angie called out from the foot of the stairs, "Mummy? Can I take Daisy upstairs and show her my new bedroom? Oh, and Baby Jennie's new Nursery, too?"
Mummy told her, "Go ahead, honey." She turned to her neighbour and smiled. "Come into the sunroom, Ellen. We can watch it on the system in there," suggested Mummy after she accepted the DVD, waving for her friend to lead the way. I slurped thirstily on the teat of my bottle as they walked into the sunroom, wondering what Mummy would think of my performance as a little ballerina. I didn't know that Sally's daddy had expressed some concern about their next-door-neighbour's immature effeminate son playing sissy dress-ups with his daughters. Even though I had only been eleven at the time we started dancing, Ellen had long been convinced that I was going to turn out gay, so she felt certain her daughters were perfectly safe playing with me. Under his direction though, she set up a nannycam - a wireless digital camera linked to her home computer system, hidden inside a friendly-looking brown teddy bear.

Sally's parents had originally purchased the motion-activated nannycam to keep an eye on the various babysitters they hired, before their oldest child even started school. After reviewing the sitter's performance on their monitor a few times, they were satisfied, and the technology-laden bear sat unused in a cupboard in their bedroom for a few years. When Sally's daddy learned what I was up to in the garage, Bob told his wife to mount the bear on top of the mahogany wardrobe facing the dance floor, and set it to broadcast to the radio receiver attached to their home computer. Even if I’d noticed the innocuous brown teddy sitting on top of the wardrobe, there was no way I could have recognised it for what it really was.

I didn't realise that the first thing Mummy was going to see on the DVD was her eleven-year-old son shyly stripping off his t-shirt and his pee-stained underwear, right in front of the camera. Mummy watched in open-mouthed horror when her only boy unwittingly exposed his rigid little erection to the lens, before tugging a padded pair of pink 'Goodnights for girls' training panties over his bobbing stiffie for the very first time. Mrs Green had left the nannycam sitting on top of the wardrobe for several weeks, and switched it on whenever she went to pick up Sally from ballet school. Not only that - months later, shortly after we stopped practising together, Ellen became suspicious that I had been sneaking into their garage to play dress-ups while they were out. Once again she mounted the innocent-looking spy camera in place and switched on the motion sensor, to record my private activities on the dance floor. She captured some of my frenzied masturbatory antics on her computer, which resulted in my being locked out of their garage for good.

All I knew was; there was nothing but shocked silence from the sunroom for the first few minutes, while the women watched me expose my true feelings to the hidden camera and Ellen's family camcorder. I nervously drained my baby bottle and then set it quietly on the tray in front of me, straining to hear any conversation from the next room. There was some embarrassed snickering for a minute, but when I heard the familiar swelling strains of music, I knew they were watching our performance to 'The Nutcracker Suite.' I had to smile when I heard Mummy burst into spontaneous applause at the end, and she laughed loudly when we fell together in a frothy heap. But a few moments later, I heard her gasp in shock. Then there was the vague sound of our neighbour mumbling something to Mummy. I couldn't hear the words, but Ellen's tone sounded very consoling.

Angie and Daisy came rattling down the stairs about five minutes later, and they dashed into the kitchen. After a smiling glance at me, Daisy called out, "Mrs R? Do you want me to let the baby out of her highchair? She's finished her bottle."
"Thank you, Daisy," Mummy politely replied, her voice strangely cool and distant. Daisy stepped behind the chair and unbuckled the waist belt, then returned to stand in front of my highchair to remove the tray. "Stay there in the kitchen, girls.” Mummy instructed, “We're coming out now." I heard Mummy’s footsteps approaching as she frostily assured our neighbour, "Don't worry, Ellen. I'll make sure my little fairy never needs to borrow your girls' clothes ever again."

The women walked into the kitchen before Daisy attempted to lift me down, thank goodness. Mummy was tapping the crystal case containing the revealing DVD against her thigh, and her expression looked grim when she regarded my innocent countenance. "I really wish you’d brought this to me at the time, Ellen," Mummy commented a trifle testily, as she placed the DVD out of our reach on top of the kitchen cupboards. The other woman's thin angular face looked wracked with guilt as she brushed her daughter out of the way to help me clamber down from my highchair.

"I know, I know," Ellen responded, shaking her head and grimacing in self-loathing. "I'm sorry, Isabell. I wanted to tell you - really I did! But Bobby told me to keep my nose out of it. You know what he's like." She was looking up pleadingly at Mummy, even as she crouched down in front of me. She raised my tiered gingham skirts with one hand, and slipped her other fingers inside the waistband of my pink plastic panties to feel my nappy crotch. "Ooo, what a wet little girl you are!" Ellen cooed to me in baby talk, even as she seemed to realise what she was doing. "Oh! I'm sorry, Isy," she apologised to Mummy, standing and looking a little flustered. "It's just a normal mother's reaction when you lift a baby down, to check their nappies-"

"Don't apologise for that, Ellen," Mummy waved away her concerns, but her laughter sounded brittle. "I understand completely. But I'm not surprised Baby Jennie is saturated. My big baby girl has been wearing the same nappy since I changed her after her nap this afternoon. She's overdue for a change."
"She takes naps, too?" Ellen questioned in disbelief.
"Mummy, you should see Baby Jennie's Nursery!" Daisy interrupted her mother, pointing animatedly at the ceiling towards my Nursery. "It's just like a normal baby girl's Nursery - but everything is bigger. You should see it, Mummy!"
Ellen turned to glance down at her excited child with a condescending smile. "I'm sure mummy will see it later, sweetheart. Hush up for just a minute, now. Let the adults talk."

My Mummy glanced down meaningfully at the troop of little girls clustered around them. "Little pitchers have big ears," she prefaced her next statement. "We'll talk more tomorrow, Ellen. We really need to discuss a few things in private, I think. Listen - Brett is away until Sunday night. How about we have dinner together, tomorrow night - just the two of us. I can organise a babysitter for my girls. Yours too, if you need it."
Ellen Green laughed dismissively. "Don't worry, my Sally can babysit Daisy on Saturday night. She's a very mature young lady these days." They both turned to glance disdainfully at me, and I knew I was suffering badly by comparison. After the women agreed on a plan, Mrs Green turned to Daisy to sweetly ask; "Well, honey? How do you feel about Baby Jennie coming to your birthday party on Sunday?"

The skinny seven-year-old disdainfully eyed my tottering form and shrugged her shoulders dismissively. "I don't mind," Daisy carelessly replied. "It was Sally's idea to invite her." But then her pale-blue eyes lit up in greedy anticipation. "Does that mean I get another present?" Both mothers chuckled at Daisy's audacious question. When Mummy assured Daisy she would receive one present each from both her little girls, the avaricious child was more than happy to grant her big sister's wish. As soon as they went home, my frowning Mummy sent Angie off to watch TV in the sunroom while she led me waddling upstairs to my Nursery. She was strangely silent as she undressed me and removed my sodden nappy, before dumping me in a wonderful hot bath full of strawberry-scented bubbles.

Mummy left me there to soak for a few minutes while she cleaned up the change table, and when she returned, she sat on the side of the tub facing me. “Did you enjoy playing ballerina dress-ups with Daisy and Sally, Baby Jennie?” she asked. She was careful to keep her tone and expression neutral.
“Yeth Mummy,” I admitted, watching her face carefully to assess her reaction. She merely pursed her lips and nodded in what I thought was approval.
“How often did you dress up, baby, and how long did you play ballerinas for?” Mummy softly inquired.

I thought it best to try and minimise my involvement, so I told her, “Only onthe or twithe a week, uthually, Mummy. And we only did it for about thix monthth,” I fibbed. Mummy merely nodded again, her expression unreadable.
“Did you ever play ballerina dress-ups by yourself, or only when you were playing with Sally and Daisy, honey?”
“Only when I wath with the other girlth, Mummy,” I lied, hoping my blushing pink cheeks didn’t give me away. She nodded her head again, but I was concerned when her normally plump pink lips compressed into a grim smile.

I didn’t realise Aunty Ellen had already informed Mummy of all the details of my dress-up adventures in her daughter’s clothes. The revealing DVD they watched together clearly gave lie to my last response. I sat quietly in the tub while Mummy soaped up a washcloth and silently began cleaning my arms and legs, contemplating the thought of attending Daisy's seventh birthday party with a bunch of little girls dressed as fairy Princesses. My skin crawled at the thought of so much potential humiliation, but another part of me longed for the chance to wear a beautiful swishy tutu again. And Mummy told me she'd buy me a tutu of my very own? "Mummy? Am I weally going to Daithy's birthday party?" I timidly asked her, while she carefully scrubbed every inch of my steaming pink body.

"Stand up, baby. I thought you'd be delighted by the idea of prancing around in a pretty tutu again," she responded rather coldly. "After watching your little performance on that DVD… Well!" Her scrubbing grew harder when she reached my shrivelled genitals, until I squealed in pain and tried to wriggle out of her grasp. I didn't know why Mummy was so mad at me. I assumed she'd only been watching the tape of our dancing performance. I thought perhaps she might have spotted my stiff clittie bulging out beneath the bouncing layers of musk-pink tulle skirts, in spite of the puffy training panties I wore underneath - but she already knew that wearing girls' clothes excited me sexually. I didn't realise she also knew about my naughty solo activities on the dance floor next door. "Keep still, you silly baby!" Mummy warned me, her tone still frosty.

As soon as I had been roughly towelled dry, Mummy hustled me out to the Nursery with a crisp smack on my damp pink botty. "On your hands and knees," she sternly reminded me. "Little babies crawl, not walk." I crawled the rest of the way to the change table, frowning resentfully, my bottom lip practically dragging on the floor. I was swiftly powdered and diapered for bed. Mummy dressed me in some frosty-pink panties and a floaty babydoll nightie all without speaking a word to me. The pink cotton nightie was different to the one I'd worn the previous night. The sleeves were longer and edged with frilly white lace, and the lacy neckline was a little lower, but the flounced hem was still too short to cover the shiny pink crotch of my packed plastic panties. In minutes I was locked inside my new steel cot, and I gazed up at the higher barred side rails towering over me on either side. Mummy walked to the door without giving me a kiss and a cuddle goodnight, and I pouted in misery. I groped for the dummy dangling from the lace-edged collar of my cotton nightie, seeking some consolation from the familiar rubber teat. Mummy paused with her hand on the light switch, and then turned to me.

"I wasn't going to let Bonnie go through with her plan to give you a perm tomorrow morning at her salon - but after watching your performance on that DVD…" She paused so long, I thought she must have forgotten what she was going to say. "Bonnie will be here to pick you up at six-thirty in the morning, little girl. Don't forget - your potty-training starts again tomorrow morning, too. If you don't try harder to use the potty, well…" She let the unfinished threat hang in the air for a few moments. "Go to sleep, Baby Jennie. Mummy needs to sleep on it before she decides what she's going to do with you." She switched off the light and I was left alone in the darkness to contemplate my fate.

I wondered what Mummy had seen on Aunty Ellen's DVD that upset her so much? I gently stroked the bulging front of my slippery plastic panties, enjoying the warm gush of wee-wees as it splashed over my flaccid genitals, before trickling down around my ball sack to tickle the sensitive place between my botty cheeks. The dummy teat was soothing in my mouth, and I sucked on the firm rubber nipple in a regular rhythm that seemed to lessen my anxiety. I heard the telephone downstairs ringing as though from a great distance, but I think I must have fallen asleep before Mummy answered it.

It was my Aunty Cath on the phone. She had reviewed the candid recording she secretly made that afternoon in Bonnie's bedroom, and needed to discuss some of the content with her sister. Cath would never admit to her little sister that she had been fondling her wet kitten through her damp nylon panties while she watched the video of the naughty teenagers frolicking on Bonnie’s bed for a second time. Cath was in her private office off her bedroom, with both doors securely locked.

The room had originally been designed as a spacious walk-in wardrobe for her husband, mirroring her own on the other side of the bedroom. After he moved out fourteen years ago, she converted it into a small but efficient private office. One wall had sliding wooden doors opening onto a complete wardrobe, where Cath stored some of her more 'exotic' shoes and outfits. There was plenty of room for a wide teak computer desk against the opposite wall, a plush black leather office chair, and a lockable beige filing cabinet. When the buxom thirty-nine-year-old settled down with a glass of chilled Chardonnay to watch the pornographic recording on her monitor in private, she first stripped down to her sexy black nylon underwear. The spanking scene was so hot, too, and the girls’ multiple thrilling climaxes left her almost breathless.

Even though the camcorder had been aimed in the direction of Bonnie's queen-size bed, the lens had a wide field of view - wide enough to include the bathroom door off to the right-hand side. Cath hadn't spotted it even during the second run through. But on a more leisurely third viewing - after she regained her breath and washed her hands in her en-suite bathroom - she noticed the door of Bonnie's en-suite open slightly at the edge of the screen. Bonnie and Tammy were holding their hands under each other's crotches as they simultaneously pissed their nappies, but the perspiring woman ignored them for the moment. She kept her eyes on the slowly opening door for the next few minutes, and she was astonished to recognise the overgrown toddler skulking inside the pink-tiled bathroom. As the frenetic sexual activity on the bed escalated, the door opened a fraction wider - enough to ensure that Cath felt quite certain sure she could tell what the naughty big baby girl was doing in there. She felt compelled to ring and immediately inform her sister. But there was one detail she had to take care of first.

Cath grabbed the phone on her desk and hit the speed-dial button. It was picked up after a couple of rings. Without any preamble, she demanded, "Do you still have that software for cropping and cleaning up video recordings?" She smiled at the response, then rudely interrupted the rambling voice on the other end. "Shut up and listen. I need you to drive over to my place with the disc right away." She paused, then replied, "I don't care how you're dressed! Throw a robe over the top and come straight over." Cath merely snickered at the indignant squawk from the other end. "No, April is staying at her boyfriend's tonight, and Bonnie is locked in her room. She's not going anywhere. Yes, that's what I said. Locked in." Another pause, then her voice lowered menacingly. "You'll find out when you bring over the software, won't you. I'll give you fifteen minutes. Get moving!" She hung up without waiting for a response.

The next number she speed-dialled was Isabell's, and when her sister answered, Cath briefly explained what she had seen on the tape. "The vision is a little fuzzy, but I have someone coming over this evening who will be able to use computer software to focus on the figure hiding behind the bathroom door, and probably brighten and sharpen the image." Aunty Cath paused before continuing. "I won't swear it was your bad baby girl perving on my daughter and her girlfriend, while they were… 'fooling around' this afternoon. But by tonight, I'll know for sure. I'll burn you a copy of the edited film and bring it over later, okay?"

Mummy agreed and hung up the phone, looking more worried than ever. When she padded into the Nursery after putting Angie to bed, she placed a pink baby bottle full of water at the foot end of my crib, and stared down at my peacefully-sleeping form with an expression of grave concern. "What am I going to do with you, my naughty baby girl?" she quietly asked herself. My only response was to contentedly suck on the amber rubber teat of my dum-dums as I mindlessly wet my nappy in my sleep.

Aunty Cath came over to our place later that night. She was carrying a freshly-burned DVD her ex-husband helped her to make - although Cath hoped Isy wouldn't ask who had assisted her. Her ex had used the software package to crop out some of the action on the bed, focusing instead on the person hiding in the bathroom. Using image-enhancing tools to lighten and sharpen the images, the DVD clearly identified the culprit lurking behind the door. Cath didn't mention who helped her with the editing, and she was glad her sister didn't ask. She didn't want to cloud the issue. As soon as she arrived, Cath stalked into the sunroom and snatched the remote control from the coffee table. "You better sit down first, Isy," she warned her younger sister, as the screen flared into life. Before she could insert the DVD into the player, Isabell advised her to wait.

"There's a DVD I want you to watch with me first, which my neighbour Ellen recorded last year. Hang on." Isabell slipped into the kitchen, and returned a moment later carrying the slim crystal case. As soon as she loaded the incriminating DVD into the machine, she instructed her big sister, "Hit the play button, Cath." They sat on the lounge and watched in silence while the skinny pre-teen boy on the screen stripped off his pee-stained old undies right in front of the camera.
"Not very impressive, is it?" Cath snorted disdainfully, as she observed my bobbing stiff clittie. "Perhaps she'd be better off without it, anyway."
"But look how excited she is by the opportunity to wear something feminine," my mother remarked, her voice strained.

Cath snickered as she identified the puffy pink underwear I pulled over my naked turgid loins. "Is that a pull-up she's wearing? It is!" She answered her own question when she recognised one of the pink 'Goodnights for girls,' and giggled at the thought. "Perhaps she's just excited about dressing up in some pink training panties, Isy. You know what a sissy baby she is."
"I don't think so," her sister softly replied. The scene cut, starting again with me taking off my shorts, undies and t-shirt - different ones, this time - but I was still fully erect when I finally stripped naked and tugged on my puffy pink pull-up. The opening sequence was recorded several times with me in a few different outfits, as if to demonstrate that I always had a raging erection at the beginning of each dress-up session.

A look of dawning comprehension crossed Isabell's face. "I just realised - last year I kept finding wet pink training panties dumped in the rubbish bin outside. Not every day, mind you, but at least one or two per week for several months. At the time, I thought Daisy might have been having a little problem controlling her bladder - and she was trying to hide it from her mother. She was only five and a half, after all. A few months later, I stopped finding them. Now I think I know why."
"It looks like your naughty baby girl finally found a way to keep her pants dry," Cath observed with a sardonic smile.

"She did have a rather unusual long dry spell for quite a few months last year… Oh! Look at her face while she's putting on her tutu," Isabell exclaimed, pointing at my beaming image on the screen. Indeed the expression on my face looked rapturous, as I drew the frothy pink net skirts over my bulging padded panties.

"She certainly loves her frilly clothes, doesn't she?" Cath wondered aloud, "I wonder if she's a transvestite or a trans-sexual?"
"What's the difference," Isabell asked.
"A transvestite is usually aroused by wearing women's clothing, whereas a transsexual actually wants to transform - you know; breast implants, hormone injections, the full cut-and-tuck… She wants to live her life as a woman."
"My naughty baby doesn't want to live life as a woman. She wants to live it like a pampered baby girl, constantly in need of a mother to clean up after her," Isabell noted somewhat sourly.

"She certainly gets aroused by wearing feminine clothes, which tends to indicate she's a transvestite,' Cath observed with clinical detachment.
"But she told me she wants to be a girl," Isabell reminded her well-informed sister.
"Oh, they all say that!" scoffed Cath, causing Isabell to turn and stare at her big sister in confusion for a moment. The loud orchestral music drew her attention back to the screen.

They both had to smile when they watched the three heavily-made-up little girls dressed in their gorgeous ballerina costumes, holding hands and dancing sweetly for the camera. "She's actually not too bad," Cath reluctantly conceded, as they watched me go through my paces. "I've seen bigger girls dance a lot worse. Maybe you should sign Baby Jennie up for some real ballet lessons? I've heard the local ballet school accepts some male pupils, too."
"She certainly looks like she's having a ball," Isabell agreed, looking thoughtful. But then the scene changed again, and there was silence while they watched me strip naked and then dress myself in my favourite pink tutu, but this time without any underwear underneath. There was obviously no-one else present in the Green's garage that day, and when I stood in front of the mirrors admiring my reflection while stroking my stiff clittie underneath the frothy net skirts bunched over my tummy, both women shook their heads and sighed in despair.

There were three different scenes showing me playing with myself through the slick leotard panties. In the first, I grabbed the stiff tutu skirts front and back, and attempted to hold them in place while I rocked my hips backwards and forwards inside the leotard. It was my first clumsy attempt at masturbation, although at that moment I had no idea there was a word for what I was doing. The slippery lycra material slithered erotically over my bobbing stiffie in front, and I frantically thrust my hard little tool into the sexy underwear clinging so sensuously to my rampant erection. The other scenes showed me dancing for a minute or two in front of the mirrors, before freezing in front of my feminine reflection. I held my tulle skirts high over my tummy with my left hand, while briskly rubbing my right palm up and down the length of my throbbing tool, my cupped hand sliding easily over the slick satiny crotch of my tight pink leotard.

"I see," Cath muttered, when the DVD abruptly came to an end. "In that case, this little gem shouldn't come as too much of a surprise to you then, Isy. I'll apologise in advance for the behaviour of my youngest daughter." She popped open the drawer and took out the DVD, and replaced it with the one she'd brought. "Watch the bathroom door on the right-hand side," Cath advised, as the disc whirred into life.

At first it was difficult not to watch the captivating female figures cavorting on the queen-size bed. Bonnie and Tammy were approaching the apex of young womanhood, and they were both beautiful girls. Isy privately marvelled at the size of Bonnie's magnificent bare breasts, and she covered her gaping mouth with one hand when the gorgeous diapered blonde crawled between her naked niece's wide-splayed thighs. But then her attention focused on the opening bathroom door, and she gave a muted cry of recognition when she caught sight of the diminutive figure in the pink baby frock. "That's my bad baby girl!"
"Keep watching," Cath grimly advised her astonished sister.

The view seemed to shift to the right a few degrees, till the writhing figures on the bed were partially obscured. The blurry figure behind the door grew bigger and appeared overexposed for a few seconds, but then the image focused and came into proper contrast. The enhanced imagery clearly showed the lust on my face as I perved on the playing girls. Diapered Tammy was performing oral sex on my moaning cousin, while Bonnie writhed in ecstasy atop her saturated nappy. The women watched as I slipped one hand inside my baby panties, and it soon became obvious that I was furiously masturbating inside my droopy wet nappies. My ruthless Aunty turned up the sound at the conclusion of Bonnie's thunderous climax, urging her sister; "Listen carefully to what Tammy has to say, and watch the effect it has on your big baby girl."

My mother watched closely, her expression torn between fascination and shame as she observed the naughty sissy baby frantically wanking on the screen. Even though the sound was slightly muffled, they could clearly hear Tammy cry; "Mama! Oh! I think- Ohh! Mama, I think I need to do a poo-poo!" Anyone could see the effect her words had on me. My right arm began to jerk up and down more urgently, and a look of intense concentration swept over my face. The women listened to Bonnie's admonishments not to do it, but they could identify Tammy's infantile squeals of pleasure when the kneeling teen began to soil her nappy.

That was when I spread my little feet wider and squatted slightly, bearing down so I could poo my nappies at the same time. As mothers who had long cared for diapered toddlers, they both instantly recognised my tell-tale squatting stance and the straining expression on my red face. They watched in stunned silence as I slipped my free hand between my legs and held my palm against the seat of my rumba panties, so I could feel the hot poo-poos squirting out of my naughty little hole. While the gorgeous blonde teenager noisily soiled her nappies and then exploded in a shrieking, gut-wrenching climax, they watched as I silently reached orgasm, too. My whole body jiggled violently and my splayed legs trembled as the bad baby juice spurted out of me, while I simultaneously strained to fill my nappies with hot squishy poo-poos like a helpless infant. "Oh my," Mummy weakly sighed, the soft words muffled by the hand she had pressed over her mouth.
"Keep watching," Cath firmly urged her stunned sister, her voice low and husky.

They continued to observe my reactions as Bonnie began to chastise her naughty girlfriend, climbing to her feet and then spanking the stinky out-thrust bottom of the gorgeous blonde kneeling on the bed. The thick plastic panties stretched tautly over Tammy's dirty wet diaper seemed to amplify the sound of each hard smack. It was easy to see that I was getting excited all over again. When my right palm began to rub up and down over the slippery front of my pink rumba panties once more, Isabell shook her head in despair at the depravity she was witnessing. She demanded mournfully, "What are we going to do with out naughty little girls?" They listened in silence to the sounds of Bonnie savagely spanking Tammy's big padded bottom, and the smaller teen's second tumultuous climax. It was clear I was straining to soil my nappies again like the dirty diapered teen on the bed. The recording came to an abrupt end the moment the bathroom door slowly closed.

Cath sighed and shifted in her seat in some discomfort, hoping her little sister didn't notice her glittering green eyes and her flushed lips and cheeks. She had masturbated three times already while watching this erotic recording, and part of her regretted editing out the next exciting scene on Bonnie's bed. But there was no need for Isabell to know everything… Even though Cath had washed her dripping kitten and changed into a clean pair of panties before visiting her sister, she was aware there was a fresh warm moist spot staining the cotton gusset of her white satin bikini underwear. Watching the recording of her voluptuous teenage daughter dominating and disciplining the gorgeous diapered blonde pixie had set her juices flowing all over again. She had decided there was no reason for Isy to view the remaining scenes on the original tape, but her twitching kitten grew wetter when she recalled the arousing images that followed.

When Tammy had recovered from her thunderous, toe-curling climax, Bonnie made the dirty baby girl crawl off the bed. The chestnut-haired beauty tossed the wet nappy aside and took her friend's place, lying back on the damp change mat. The petite diapered blonde took her time cleaning and powdering Bonnie's hairless kitten and between her big fleshy bottom cheeks. Then Tammy diapered the smiling bigger girl just like her. As soon as she had tugged the frosty white baby panties up over the supine Amazon's huge diaper package and tucked them in, Tammy threw herself on the bed beside the buxom teen. She squirmed up alongside the bigger girl till their faces were level, and then Tammy softly kissed her girlfriend on the mouth. Bonnie gently nibbled the tasty pink lips of her adoring lesbian lover, before giggling, "I can still taste my juices on your lips, baby."
"Oh Mama," the gorgeous blonde moaned excitedly. She let her rosy mouth gape wide while Bonnie's tongue licked her swollen lips clean, before delving deeply into her wet open mouth.

The kiss had been so passionate that Cath found herself becoming aroused all over again. When their wet open mouths finally parted, the beautiful girls smiled dreamily into each other's eyes for a few minutes. They cuddled each other tightly like they never wanted to let go, but then Tammy slid down and turned her attention to Bonnie's melon-sized titties. They looked even larger when contrasted with Tammy's small hands, and the tiny blonde fondled the warm fleshy globes with a gasp of wonder. She nuzzled one of the massive teats like a hungry little puppy, snuffling and whimpering quietly with excitement as her rosy pursed lips drew closer and closer to the erect russet cap. Bonnie groaned loudly when Tammy greedily latched on to the swollen sensitive bud. Watching the recording, at first Cath couldn't tell if it was a cry of pain or pleasure.

When her daughter began slowly massaging the front of her thick nappy with her fingers, Cath felt sure they were cries of pleasure. One of Tammy's smaller hands slid down Bonnie's smooth round tummy, cupping the hand her daughter had clutched to her dripping vulva. Bonnie let the greedy little girl feast on one stiff nipple for almost five minutes, cooing soft encouraging words to her in baby talk before she moaned, "Oh Tammy! I think I need to do a wee-wee first, before I do another cummie." The hand she had pressed over her crackling panty front moved to slide under the snug elastic waistband, but Tammy stopped her. The gorgeous little girl's pursed lips reluctantly separated from the swollen teat with a loud wet 'plop,' and Bonnie's nipple looked red and angry from the fierce attention she’d lavished on it.

"Wait a second, Mama," Tammy pleaded in a husky voice. "This time I want to feel your kitten while you wet your nappy." She rolled over to my supine cousin's right side, so that she could slip her right hand inside the tight waistband of Bonnie's baby panties. She wormed her fingers under the fluffy nappy front. "Besides," Tammy giggled like a cheeky toddler as she nuzzled the huge sagging breast closest to her, "this titty needs some attention, too, Mama. Otherwise it will get jealous!" Bonnie couldn't restrain her groans of pleasure when the beautiful blonde sucked hard on the previously untouched nipple, while simultaneously cupping her dripping kitten with one small soft palm.

"Here it comes, baby. Here it comes!" Bonnie moaned a few moments later. She spread her long legs wider and relaxed her sphincter muscles to allow the thick stream to gush out of her urethra. Tammy grunted with arousal when she felt hot urine spraying against her cupped palm and fingers, but she refused to stop sucking Bonnie's stiff sensitive nipple even for an instant. She thrust her wet diapered crotch against her girlfriend's plastic-sheathed hip, trying to masturbate against the poopy wet padding that caressed her swollen vulva like a lover's slick fingers. "Ohh, baby! I'm pissing in my nappy," the buxom teen squealed in excitement. "I'm a naughty little girl and I'm wetting my nappy!" When Bonnie finished peeing, the suckling blonde slid her drenched fingers inside the taller teen's steamy dripping opening. She gathered some of Bonnie's copious vaginal lubricant on her fingertips, before fingering her moaning girlfriend's stiff little clitoris. It only took a few minutes before Bonnie's long chestnut pigtails began to whip from side to side again. Her orgasmic wails must have been loud enough to disturb the neighbours.

Cath shuddered and felt her panties moisten afresh as she recalled the teenagers’ erotic diaper escapades. She decided to closely examine the film one more time as soon as she returned home. After she sorted a few things out with her ex - and perhaps, used her and abused her one more time. When Cath diapered her naked, contritely-sniffling daughter for the night before leaving to visit her sister Isy, she noticed that Tammy had left wide dark-red hickeys all around Bonnie's huge russet nipples. They looked like the angry love bites her teenage boyfriend used to leave on her neck decades ago. It was all Cath could do to keep from smiling at the familiar sight from her youth.

'No,' Cath thought, dragging her thoughts back to the present. 'There's no need for Isabell to know everything about my naughty baby girl.' Aloud she said, "Well, Isy, I've already given my bad baby girl a very sound paddling, as you suggested. Bonnie thought the paddle she gave you to use on Baby Jennie was the only one I owned." She laughed in scorn, and it was a harsh cruel sound. "Silly girl."
"Bonnie's going to get another hard spanking from me too, you know that," Isabell forcefully reminded her.
"I know, I know," Cath replied, holding up her palms in a placating manner. "I just thought it would be better if we didn't punish her at the same time. Two separate spankings will really drive home the message of how angry we are - plus it will hurt for longer, thereby making a more… lasting impression. I hope. She's also going to spend a whole month in nappies and baby clothes as we agreed, without a break."

Isabell smiled grimly and nodded, but she hardly looked satisfied. "How did Bonnie accept having to take four weeks off work?" She asked.
"She's furious! Terrified of losing her job, but it's only part-time. She's a casual employee - too casual, if you ask me. I phoned her boss and told her she had to have some time off due to an illness in the family."
"A mental illness in the family," Isabell interjected in a poor attempt at humour. They both smiled weakly. There was silence as they became lost in their own thoughts.

"Have you seen a psychologist yet?" Cath finally asked, and Isabell nodded.
"Yes, I've had two appointments already with the doctor April recommended."
"Oh yes, she's mentioned him a couple of times. He's one of her professors at the University, you know? He's supposed to be excellent with disturbed children."
"Speaking of which - where is Bonnie now?" Isabell asked.

Cath's luscious red lips pressed into a thin smile, but there was no humour in her voice. "She's locked in her bedroom at home right now, with a very sore red bottom - diapered and dressed in some special new baby panties and some mittens I purchased for her this afternoon. I bought some for your Baby Jennie, too - in case you think she needs them - but I left them at home." When she noticed her sister wasn't exactly focused on what she was saying, Cath added; "I'll bring the mittens and a couple of pairs of the special baby panties over tomorrow morning, to show you. I think you might need to use them on your naughty baby girl, too." She rose to her feet as she said, "I won't stay, Isy. You've got a lot to think about tonight."

Mummy escorted her to the front, but before she opened the door, Cath gathered her into a warm hug. "Listen, try not to worry too much. I have a feeling that things will all work out in the end." When Isy's troubled face reflected her strongly-held doubts, Cath gave a shallow laugh. "No, I'm serious! Look, there's another important issue I think we need to discuss, but I want to get all my facts together first. I need one more day… Can we arrange to meet sometime on Sunday afternoon? It's important, Isy."
"I don't know," Mummy replied doubtfully. "Our next-door neighbours are having a 'Fairy Princess' costume party for their seven-year-old daughter's birthday, and both my little girls have been invited."
"Oh how sweet!" Aunty Cath trilled. "A Fairy Princess party! What time Sunday? I'd love to come over and see them all dressed up."
"The party starts at two and goes until five pm," replied Mummy. "But don't worry, Cath; I'm sure you'll have plenty of opportunities to see my big baby girl dressed up like a sweet little fairy."

Cath gave her frowning younger sister a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "I'm sure I will, too. I'll try and come over to visit while the girls are at the party. I'll give you a call when I'm on the way, and you can sneak away for an hour or so. That way we can have a little privacy while we… discuss some very important issues. Alright, Isy?" Isabell nodded passively in agreement, her shoulders slumped in acceptance. When had she ever been capable of denying her bossy big sister? She kissed Cath's cheek and bade her goodnight, and as soon as the front door was securely locked, Isy turned off the lights and wearily headed upstairs to bed.

To be continued in chapter 27.

Please keep posting your comments here.
Baby Jennie

Synopsis. Bonnie has been reduced to a diapered toddler, and she takes Baby Jennie to the hairdressing salon where she works to further feminise the sissy baby.

Chapter 27. Mummy's Clever Potty-Princess

When a strange sound disturbed me early on Saturday morning, I became aware that several people were wandering around my dimly-lit Nursery. 'That's right,' I groggily realised, yawning hugely as I slowly came awake. 'This is my Nursery now!' It was so early the sun had barely risen, and things looked much brighter when Mummy switched on the overhead light. I saw Aunty Cath standing beside my mother in the landing doorway, and both women wore grim expressions. Mummy had simply tossed her pink satin robe over her yellow shortie nightie and slippers, but my Aunty was already dressed for the day. She wore a denim short-sleeved shirt, a black leather skirt around her wasp waist, and her menacing black platform boots with the six-inch spiked heels. Her dark-brown hair was tied up in a high tight bun, making her seem even taller and more intimidating, and her face looked severely beautiful covered in dark sexy make-up.

A noise from the other side of the room caught my attention. I saw Bonnie standing beside the change table laying out some fresh white nappies for me and my eyes widened in shock. Abruptly I was wide-awake, like someone had injected me with a shot of adrenaline. The tall teenager looked like she'd had a harrowing experience, and yet her face looked strangely blank. With a start, I saw she wasn't wearing any make-up. Bonnie was dressed in the same juvenile outfit as the day before - but subtly different. The next thing I noticed was that Bonnie was heavily diapered this morning. I could tell that my buxom cousin had been wearing a nappy and baby panties by the pool yesterday afternoon, but that was nothing compared to the bulk around her hips now. I figured she had to be double-diapered today, like Mummy usually did with me.

Bonnie’s nappies were made from two layers of fluffy, double-sided terry-towelling - like mine - but unlike mine, there were an extra two oval layers of soaker pads sewn into the wide crotch of each nappy. That meant my cousin currently had eight bulky layers of thick absorbent terrycloth bunched between her thighs. And her pink-and-white striped shortie overalls - they were proper shortalls, now. Her mum had shortened the legs so that hers were now shorter than mine. When Bonnie bent over to pack another clean prepared diaper in my change bag, I caught a hint of her pink plastic panties peeping out the leg holes either side of her crotch. I realised with a start that there were shiny chromed snap-fasteners in the crotch, too. Bonnie was wearing proper toddler shortalls with snaps in the crotch for easy diaper changes!

Her mum had also taken in the baggy shortalls around the middle and added some elastic ruffles at the sides, so the outfit snugly hugged her slender waist. Of course this only emphasised her wide padded hips and her bulky bottom below, making her distinct pear shape look even more toddler-like. Her white t-shirt had short puffy sleeves with an elastic gather that was tight around her upper arms, with narrow frilly lace edging the cuffs and collar. Bonnie was wearing white anklet socks with a wide double layer of floppy white lace frills shimmering around each ankle, and a gleaming pair of black patent Maryjanes with wafer-thin soles. When she stepped over to the side of my cot, she waddled awkwardly because of the huge wad of terry-towelling crammed between her legs. I saw there was a new cartoon appliqué of a diapered baby sucking on a bottle affixed to the high bib front of her shortalls, too. It looked cute, but really emphasised the childishness of her juvenile outfit. I cowered away from the pink steel bars when Bonnie approached my crib, and she gave a wan smile for my cowardly reaction.

My tall cousin stood on the release lever and lowered the high side rail, and then held out her hands. "Come on, Baby Jennie," she softly urged me. "Come with Aunty Bonnie, and we'll change you out of that wet nappy."
"Aunty Bonnie?" Aunty Cath snorted, striding in to stand beside her instantly-cowed daughter. In her tall platform boots and with her dark hair piled high atop her head, Cath towered over the cringing teenager in her pigtails and flatties. "I don't think so! Babies call their grown-up cousins, 'Aunty.' But you're not a grown-up, are you Bonnie?"
"No mum," Bonnie softly replied, her head bowed in shame.
"What was that?" Cath's hand leapt out like a striking cobra, her open palm lashing the girl's big padded bum with an astonishingly loud noise. Bonnie jumped and so did I! "What did you say, little girl?"
"No Mummy," Bonnie penitently corrected herself. I saw tears forming in her glistening golden eyes. She reached back to tenderly rub her bulging bottom with one hand like a chastised toddler, as if the smack had actually hurt.

"That's better," Cath sternly advised her. "No, you're not a grown-up. You're just a silly baby like Baby Jennie. Aren't you, Baby Bonnie?"
"Yes Mummy." I could barely hear Bonnie’s softly muttered reply, but I watched a single fat tear roll down her blazing red cheek and drip onto my crib sheet. I had never seen my domineering cousin look so cowed and ashamed, and my eyes widened in shock.
"Get on with it. We haven't got all day. And remember, Baby Bonnie," Cath coldly warned her miserable diapered daughter, "how you will be treated over the coming weeks will depend on how well you treat Baby Jennie."

Without looking at her mother or me, Bonnie lifted me down and then walked me over to the change table. She swept me off my feet and lay me on my back on the soft padded surface, then pulled down my damp pink plastic panties. My diaper was only saturated this morning, and I wondered if I would have been messy as usual had I slept until the time Mummy normally woke me. In moments Bonnie had me naked and wiped clean. "Come on, baby girl," she cooed in a tone that was somehow flat and lifeless. "Let's put you on the potty." She picked me up and carried me into the en-suite bathroom, then seated me on my big pink potty. Our frowning Mummies stood in the doorway, closely observing while Bonnie first tucked my limp clittie under the scoop at the front, and then securely strapped me into my low potty-chair. When my cousin climbed to her feet, she turned to look questioningly at the watching women.

"No Bonnie," my Mummy sternly answered her unasked question. "You can stay here and keep an eye on the baby while your mummy and I have a cuppa downstairs. Call us if she uses her potty. If we haven't heard you call, we'll be back in ten or fifteen minutes to check on her progress anyway."
"Come downstairs, and I can show you the new baby panties and mittens I bought for your bad baby girl," suggested Cath to her frowning blonde sister. The women stalked out, and Bonnie collapsed on the vanity bench seat facing me, her broad shoulders slumped in despair. I wondered if she knew that because her plump thighs were forced so wide apart, when she sat down, you could see her puffy pink plastic panties poking out the leg holes either side of her crotch. And her nappy wasn't even wet yet!

I was fearful of interrupting her dismal musings, but I hesitantly asked, "Aunt - Bonnie?" When she raised her head to look at me, she glared at me with such venom - I think I flinched. But I was desperately thirsty and I pleaded, "B-b-bonnie? Can I have my bottle p-p-pleathe? I'm thirthty!" She scowled and looked like she was about to refuse, but then thought the better of it. She jumped to her feet and waddled ponderously out of the bathroom, and returned moments later clutching my full bottle of water from my crib. Instead of handing it to me, she stood between my splayed knees, towering over me while I cowered on my potty. When I looked up, she forcefully thrust the nipple between my lips and held it there.

"There you go, baby girl," she cooed, but there was an undertone of menace in her syrupy voice that made me shiver. She kept the base of the bottle held high so that I had to tilt my head painfully far back, and she glowered down at me when I was forced to look her in the face. Even though she had lengthened dark eyelashes like me, her pretty face looked oddly naked without the benefit of her usual heavy coating of make-up. I sucked hard on the teat and slurped down a few mouthfuls of water, and then I heard the sound of my pee-pee tinkling into my pink plastic potty.

I wanted to tell Bonnie I was doing a wee-wee in my potty like a good little girl, but she kept the clear silicon nipple rammed between my lips, effectively silencing me. "This is all your fault," she whispered hoarsely, her golden orbs flashing in fury. She nervously glanced over her shoulder towards the doorway to the Nursery, and I knew she was terrified of being overheard by our parents. "My mum beat the hell out of my butt last night," she bitterly complained. Even thinking about the previous night's punishment caused her to ruefully rub her big padded bum with her free hand, and I heard the noisy crackle of her baby panties under her shortalls. "I have to give up my job for the next four weeks, and my mum keeps treating me like an incontinent two-year-old!" I thought with malicious satisfaction, 'Welcome to my life, baby!' Of course I made sure to keep my expression entirely neutral.

"I'll fix you," she warned me with an evil snarl, and goosebumps of fear popped up all over my arms and legs. Even my tiny pink nipples stood up stiffly in alarm. "Just you wait till I-"
"Oh!" I cried, but then I choked and coughed a spray of water droplets over Bonnie's puffy padded crotch. As she darted back out of range, the bottle nipple was ripped from my mouth. I squealed, "Poo-pooth!" I had to cough wetly again and felt another hot surge of excrement burst from my fear-loosened anus. There was a muffled farting noise that echoed loudly in the small tiled room, and I blushed furiously in embarrassment when Bonnie snickered in contempt. When I stopped spluttering, I managed to excitedly explain, "I did a poo-poo in the potty!" I knew I should have been cringing in shame to be moving my bowels in front of my older female cousin, but I couldn't hide the delight in my voice.

Bonnie glowered at my proud declaration, then she sniffed the air and stepped back a few paces. “Oh shit! You did too!" Her pert nose wrinkled in distaste and her sensuous upper lip curled in a disgusted sneer. She shook her head disdainfully.
"Call my Mummy!" I pleaded, holding out my hands for my bottle. She tossed it to me so she wouldn't have to step any closer, and I barely managed to catch the heavy bottle. "I want my Mummy!" I wailed like a fractious toddler.

Bonnie paused in the doorway, her face reflecting her indecision before she turned back to me. “Alright, baby," she muttered, but the way she said it made me feel sure it wasn't really alright. "I'll call your Mummy for you, and you can show her how you finally learned to use the potty like a real two-year-old. On one condition."
I gazed wide-eyed at her past the bottom of my baby bottle, and plucked the nipple from my mouth long enough to mumble, "What?"
"When your Mummy comes up here and starts talking to you in that sickly-sweet baby talk - like she always does - I want you to respond like any normal two-year-old."
"What?" I repeated in confusion.

Bonnie grinned, but it was a nasty malevolent expression. "After my mum drops us at the salon, you're mine for the rest of the morning. I can do just about anything I want with you. We could spend the entire morning at the salon... Or, I could take my sweet sissy baby for a walk around the mall, and introduce all the other shopkeepers and staff to my naughty thirteen-year-old sissy baby nephew." Her eyes actually lit up at the frightening prospect, and I shuddered in terror. "By the end of the day, the whole town will be talking about you," she gloated.

I didn't realise what an idle threat it was. With her thick nappies pinned around her hips and in her too-short toddler shortalls, there was no way Bonnie was willingly going to visit anyone she knew. But that thought didn't occur to me at the time. "What do you want, Bonnie," I asked tiredly.

She smirked at her easy victory. "For the whole morning - from now until we leave the salon at lunchtime - I want you to sound as babyish as you look. You know? So whenever anyone asks you a question, you're to talk like a two-year-old when you reply. Got it?" When I meekly nodded and returned the teat to my mouth, she warned me; "If I hear you using any bigger words than your sister Angelica uses, I'll make the rest of this morning hell for you. Understand?"
"Yeth Bonnie," I mumbled resignedly. I felt confident that dressed in my usual baby clothes, no-one was about to engage me in any real conversation, anyway. At least I didn't have to call her Aunty Bonnie any more.

She walked back into the Nursery and stood in the doorway to the landing, and I heard her yell down the stairs. "Aunty Isy? Baby Jennie did a poo-poo in the potty!" Bonnie returned to the bathroom and stood in the doorway, leaning on the door jamb with her arms crossed under her huge bosom and sneering down at me in contempt. A few moments later Mummy rushed into the small tiled room, and she actually had a genuine smile for me.
"Baby Jennie? Did you do a poopie in your potty, darling?" Mummy demanded excitedly.
Aunty Cath strolled in a few paces behind her, and she immediately fanned the air in front of her nose with her hand. "Pooh!" Cath cried in disgust, "It certainly smells like someone did her business on the potty."

Remembering Bonnie's words of warning, I tried to behave like my little sister did a few days ago, when she successfully used her potty for the first time. "Mummy! Mummy, come thee!" I squealed like an excited little girl. "I did poo-pooth in my pot-pot, Mummy!" I wanted to stand up and show her the turds in my pink potty, I felt so proud. The tight leather seat belt kept me safely restrained in the low wooden chair, however.
"Good girl!" Mummy cried, beaming in delight. She crouched down and kissed my cheek and my face glowed with pleasure.

"What a clever little Potty-Princess you are for Mummy," Aunty Cath commented, but her tone reeked of sarcasm.
"Don't try and stand up," Mummy warned me. "You need to sit there for a few more minutes, sweetie, to make sure you're finished doing your poo-poos. Don't worry; Bonnie will stay here and keep and eye on you while you finish your bottle. We'll be back soon." Both women glanced meaningfully at the tall teen slouching in the doorway, whose face was now a mask of repose. They stepped past her without a word, and Bonnie loitered in the Nursery outside the bathroom door, trying to stay upwind of me.

Mummy was right. There was a little bit more poo-poos to come out, and I managed to squeeze out another couple of sticky lumps over the next few minutes. I peed a little more as well while I finished my baby bottle, and we were both empty by the time Mummy and Aunty Cath returned. Instead of walking into the bathroom, Mummy actually pushed her taller niece in ahead of her. "Alright, Bonnie, you can unfasten Baby Jennie's seatbelt now. Then get some toilet paper." Bonnie's nose wrinkled in disgust and her top lip curled in loathing when she had to crouch behind my low pink chair to unbuckle the restraints.

When I tried to stand, Mummy held up her palms and cautioned me, "Slow down, baby girl! Bonnie has to wipe your… your clittie and your botty-hole first. Okay, sweetie?"
"Yeth Mummy," I meekly replied. Despite the shame of having by clittie and bottom wiped for me like I was a helpless toddler, I had to smile at the prospect of Bonnie being forced to clean my filthy poo-poo hole. I leaned back, resting against the back of the low chair and rolling my hips up so Bonnie could wipe my leaky tap first with some toilet tissue.

"That's right. Good girl, baby," Mummy praised me, and I smiled up at her gratefully. "Look at Mummy's clever Potty-Princess! Now stand up a little bit, and lean forward with your hands on your knees, sweetie. That's it, stick out that little bot-bot for Bonnie. Good girl!" Her voice chilled when she instructed my frowning cousin, "Make sure you clean her poo-poo hole properly, Bonnie. I'll be checking."
"Yes Aunty Isy," Bonnie murmured subserviently, before crying in disgust, "Oh yuck! There's a big piece of shit stuck to her-"
"Bonnie!" Mummy snapped angrily, "Little girls do not use that kind of language. Stop sooking and wipe the baby's bottom!"
.
With much muttering and complaining under her breath, Bonnie cleaned my poopy little hole. It took her several attempts, and she was writhing in revulsion by the time she dumped the crumpled pieces of soiled tissue in the toilet. Then she had to empty my potty and flush the contents away before rinsing the plastic commode in the tub and hosing it clean. Mummy inspected her handiwork, and despite her grim-faced nod of approval, she insisted that Bonnie give my loins and bum a quick once-over with a warm soapy washer, too, and dry me with a towel afterwards. I felt lovely and clean by the time my cranky cousin carried me out to the change table. Bonnie was an expert when it came to changing diapers. In minutes I was thoroughly powdered front and back, my nappy pinned tightly around my waist, and some snug musk-pink baby panties tugged over the top. She sat me up to pull a white t-shirt over my head, and I wasn't too surprised when I saw Mummy hand Bonnie my pink cotton drill shortalls. My pink-frilled white anklet socks and my pink sneakers completed my ensemble, and then I was lifted down all ready to go.

Aunty Cath took my hand and drew me aside, and Mummy signalled Bonnie to come closer with her curled index finger. "Come here to Aunt Isy, little girl," she ordered the suddenly-wary teenager. Mummy turned around the straight-backed wooden chair in front of the vanity, and sat down side-on to us, but facing Bonnie as she timidly shuffled closer. "Right over here in front of me," she commanded, pointing to a spot on the floor between her slippered feet. When the reluctant teenager stood on the spot indicated, Mummy briskly slapped her plump thighs apart. "Open those legs wide apart for Aunty, sweetie," she cooed, but there was no kindness in her tone. Bonnie hurriedly spread her feet wide and squatted slightly, and she gasped in shock when Mummy rudely reached between her legs and ripped apart the snap-crotch of her shortalls.

The pink-and-white striped flaps shot apart to reveal Bonnie's bulging plastic panties. They were mostly pink and white, in an old-fashioned quilted pattern, with cartoon drawings of Strawberry Shortcake all over them. They were the thickest puffiest baby panties I'd ever seen. "Let's pull baby's shortalls right up out of the way," Mummy sang in that condescending, sickly-sweet voice. "Hold the front up for Aunty, baby." When a red-faced Bonnie obediently clutched the front flap over her opulent bosom, Mummy grabbed her wide padded hips and turned her around. "Show Aunty the back, sweetie," she cooed in saccharine tones.

When Mummy lifted the seat of Bonnie’s shortalls high up her back, I caught the glint of metal. There were two short lengths of slender brass chain dangling from the middle of the high waistband at the back of Bonnie's puffy baby panties, and I caught sight of a small brass padlock securely clasped through two links. The chain was short enough that the panties were a very snug fit around the diapered teen's slender waist, which Mummy demonstrated when she tugged hard on the lock. Bonnie almost tumbled over backwards, and she squealed in alarm as she clumsily struggled to maintain her footing. There was no way my trapped cousin could remove her baby panties without unlocking the padlock first and loosening the chain.

"We won't be playing with our hands in our baby panties today, will we, Baby Bonnie?" Mummy frostily demanded, her tone altering abruptly to sound very grown-up. She gave the girl’s big padded bum a crisp warning swat.
"No Aunty Isy," Bonnie contritely responded, her head bowed in shame. But I noticed she didn't let drop the front flap of her shortalls, clutching it to her mammoth bosoms with trembling fingers. Even the long chestnut pigtails dangling over her hands were visibly shaking.
"Are you wet yet, baby?" Without waiting for an answer, Mummy slipped two searching fingers under one thick elastic leg band. She obviously had difficulty wiggling her fingers inside the crotch of Bonnie's tight baby panties.
"No, Aunty Isy," Bonnie dismally replied, looking crushed with embarrassment. She knew it didn't make a difference what reply she gave. She was being treated like a baby, and babies couldn't be relied on to tell whether they were wet or not. Only a grown-up could check for sure.

"I have the key right here, so you can unlock her special baby panties and check down the front if you want, Isy," her sister helpfully suggested, holding up her jangling keyring. Mummy ripped her fingers free of the tight leg band and turned to look at Cath.
"No, she's still dry - for the moment," Isabell reported. "Let go of your shortalls, baby." When Bonnie let the front flap drop, Mummy reached between her splayed thighs and grabbed the dangling striped front piece. It took her a few attempts to fasten the four chromed snap-fasteners between the cringing teen's legs. When Bonnie was finally allowed to straighten her knees, she looked pathetically grateful. The relief was blasted from her face by Mummy's next comment. "I'll need the key this afternoon, though - when I change this naughty little girl's nappy and get her ready for her second paddling." Bonnie looked like she was about to pass out, and she stumbled against her aunt when Mummy stood and turned her around and pointed her towards the landing doorway.

Aunty Cath's laugh was a cruel short bark. "Yes, that's something for my naughty baby girl to look forward to, while she does her last shift at work for the next month."
"Go on, Baby Bonnie," Mummy urged my humiliated cousin as she stood beside her. She gave the cowed teen's big bulging bottom a hard whack to send her scurrying on her way. I watched Bonnie clumsily waddle ahead of us, and she could barely squeeze her fleshy thighs closer than a hand-span apart, she was so heavily diapered.

After Bonnie and I bumped our way downstairs like proper baby girls should, I was surprised when Aunty Cath took our hands and led us waddling straight to the front door. "What about bweakfatht?" I mumbled, as Mummy gave me a perfunctory kiss and cuddle goodbye. She handed my loaded pink gingham baby bag to Bonnie, who accepted the diaper bag with a deepening scowl.
"No time now, sweetie," Aunty Cath diffidently replied, with a tight smile for her mortified daughter. "We have to get Baby Bonnie to the salon on time for work." She turned to her sister and suggested, "I'll come back after I've dropped off the babies, alright?" Isabell nodded.
"We'll pick you up around lunchtime, Baby Jennie," Mummy reassured me, giving me a farewell wave. I waved back, wondering if she remembered to pack my dum-dums in my change bag? I hoped so.

"Come on girls, hop in the car," Cath briskly ordered, as she opened the back door of her black BMW. The upholstery was made from butter-soft cream leather, and the delightful 'new car' smell filled my nostrils when I climbed inside. She buckled me into a pink toddler seat I recognised as the one from Aunty April's Volvo. Aunty Cath assured me, "You'll get something to eat later, sweetie. Don't worry." Bonnie didn't have to sit in a car seat, but she did have to sit in the back with me like a little kid, holding my packed change bag on her bulging lap. She tried to keep her expression blank when Aunty Cath buckled her in like she was a helpless two-year-old, but the way she sat still and patiently waited for her mother to strap her in made me certain Bonnie was acutely aware of her new limitations.

We arrived outside the entrance to 'The Beauty Spot' at exactly seven o'clock. The carpark was virtually deserted this early on Saturday morning. Despite the glorious sunshine, there was hardly a soul about. Bonnie's friend Sandy was walking up to the door of the salon as Aunty Cath lifted me out of the restrictive car seat. As soon as she spied Bonnie's juvenile outfit, the apprentice hairdresser began to giggle. Bonnie was standing behind her mummy, and Cath couldn't see the tall teenager glaring daggers at her snickering blonde workmate. "Hello, Sandy," Aunty Cath greeted the smirking young woman with the short, dirty-blonde bob.
"Good morning, Mrs Jones," Sandy politely replied, but her wide eyes were glued to the bulging crotch my cousin's revealing shortalls. "Cute outfit, Bonnie." She giggled again, and Bonnie's face went so red, I thought her head was about to explode.

"Sandy, what time does your boss get in?" Cath asked the snickering girl.
"Not until about ten on Saturdays," Sandy replied, digging in her handbag for her keys.
"I've left a letter in an envelope in Baby Jennie's change bag. I want you to give it to Mrs Worth when she arrives," Cath instructed her, and then she turned to Bonnie. "I've asked Mrs Worth to call me after she reads the note, so make sure she gets it when she arrives, Sandy." Even though she was addressing the skinny blonde, her words were obviously directed at her sullen-faced daughter.
"Yes Ma'am," Sandy politely responded, and she accepted my packed change bag from my Aunt's hands.
Cath nodded in approval and then farewelled her daughter and her nephew. “I’ll be back at lunchtime to pick you up, girls. Try and behave yourselves,” she cautioned the blushing big babies before she turned away.

Sandy unlocked the plate-glass front door and threw it open as Aunty Cath climbed back into her car and drove off. The curious teen asked her friend, "Is it true you're having the next four weeks off?" When Bonnie pouted and nodded in misery, Sandy demanded, "Why?"
With a pointed dark glance in my direction, Bonnie muttered, "I'll tell you later." After making sure her mother had driven out of the car park, Bonnie followed us inside.

"What the hell is with that get-up? You look like you've put on five kilos around the arse, Bonnie," Sandy chortled as she returned from the back rooms.
"Shut up, Sandy," my cousin replied shortly, her tone surly. I saw Sandy's eyes widen when she noticed Bonnie's enforced waddling gait, too.

"No, you shut up," Sandy tartly responded, as all the lights in the salon flickered into brilliant life. "I came in like, an hour early to help you out, you know, and I got the Botox shots you asked me to get, and-"
"You got it?" Bonnie demanded in sudden excitement, her golden eyes wide and hopeful.
"Yeah, I got it," the small blonde diffidently replied, still sounding resentful.

Bonnie waddled over and threw her arms around the smaller girl's shoulders, eager to avoid the embarrassing subject of her unusual pear-shaped appearance. "Good work, Sandy! I knew I could rely on you." Her affectionate hug and words of praise seemed to mollify her friend slightly.
"I still don't understand while we had to come in so early?" Sandy complained.
"I told you. I want to get some stuff done on the baby before the others arrive. Are the electrolysis machines switched on?" Bonnie asked.
"The lasers are already warming up. They'll be ready in two minutes."
"Good. Let's start there. Come on, baby girl," Bonnie cooed to me, her golden orbs alive with mischief.

They led me to a room out the back that had a wide padded table in the middle - kind of like my change table except the top was covered in crisp white towels. There were two odd machines with lit LEDs, one either side of the table, humming quietly. I was so accustomed to having women control my wardrobe, I made no comment and offered no resistance when the girls took off all my clothes, right down to my fluffy white nappy. Bonnie lifted me onto the soft padded table and ordered me to lie on my back. She handed me a black blindfold, and picked up a wand on a long cord connected to the humming machine, and I really started to worry. She must have seen the concern on my face, because she laughed in sadistic pleasure.

"Don't worry, stupid," Bonnie cattily reassured me. "The treatment involves a really bright light. If you look at it directly, it can burn your retinas. See, we have to wear these, too." She held up some weird goggles with dark smoky lenses, and I noticed Sandy already had her protective glasses adjusted over her eyes.

"Put them on, silly," Sandy recommended with a superior smug smirk. "You don't want to go blind, do you? Don't you know anything?" Everything went black when I slipped the soft cotton mask over my eyes. For some strange reason I found the darkness rather soothing, and I heard Sandy's bored professional voice order; "Just lie back and relax. The wands get a little warm after a while, but the chilling elements will help cool things down, If it gets too hot, you let us know. Okay?" She didn't bother waiting for an answer, and I felt a freezing-cold piece of steel being pressed against each shin. It reminded me of the frozen spoon that Mummy used to tame my naughty clittie, and I shuddered at the unpleasant memory. "Keep still, baby," Sandy warned me. The cold chilling unit was removed, something hard pressed in its place, and there was a bright flash I could detect even through the thick black cotton mask. "See how easy that was?" Sandy cooed. "Now lie still. We have to do this like, about a hundred more times."

She wasn't kidding. They worked on one leg each, covering my lower limbs, my knees and my thighs. They made me roll over so they could do the backs of my legs, right up to the bottom of my nappy, then I had to have my arms and underarms done. With each blast of the laser, the electrolysis wand grew warmer, until I worried it might burn me. Before they zapped around my nipples, Sandy put a floppy plastic mask over my lower face that was full of blue-tinted iced gel. "Everything below the eyebrows has to go," Bonnie insisted.

"This will numb your face a bit, so it won't be too painful," Sandy reassured me. "It's only for a few minutes." The gel mask was very cold and uncomfortable, but at least there was a mouth hole and nose holes so I could breathe. They removed the damp mask from my frozen face and did my chin, cheeks and upper lip next. They were right. I could hardly feel the hot wand on my chilled cheeks, although it was uncomfortably warm on my neck. Almost an hour had passed already, and the girls removed their goggles for few minutes to give their eyes a break.

"Time to take off baby's nappy," sang Bonnie. When she unpinned my diaper it was only a little damp inside, but Sandy wasn't impressed.
"Oh yuck! She pissed herself," she moaned in disgust. "What'll we do with her wet nappy?"
"It's only wet on the inside. She hasn't leaked through yet. Just leave it underneath her till we're done," recommended Bonnie. "Knowing this sissy pissy baby, she'll probably wet again before we finish." She left me sitting on my cooling damp nappy while they forced my legs wide apart and examined my shrivelled equipment and the space between my spread thighs.

"Look how tiny she is!” Sandy snidely commented, and both girls snickered in cruel amusement. “Oh! She's already got a bit of fur growing down there," Sandy noted as she carelessly moved my bits about with her fingertips. I could hear the frown in her voice when she muttered, "We'll have to shave her first." Shave me? I still had the eye mask in place, so I couldn't see what they were doing, but then I heard them rattling around at the sink in the far corner.
"W-w-what are you doing?" I tremulously asked, reaching up to remove the blindfold.

"Ah-ah-ah!" Bonnie sang, grabbing my wrist and preventing me from ripping off the black cotton eye mask. "Leave that in place, Baby Jennie. We just have to get rid of some nasty little hairs that have started to appear around your little clittie and poo-poo hole." Sandy snickered at Bonnie's honeyed tones and her feminine description of my shrivelled male appendage. "Otherwise your poo-poos gets stuck to the hairs, and it's harder to clean you up after you make big stinky messes in your nap-naps. You know?"

Her humiliating explanation sort of made sense, and I lay back and obediently spread my little legs wide. They sprayed some cold soapy foam around my ball sack and clittie, and right between my thighs, too. I felt very nervous when I felt them scraping away at my sensitive flesh with a sharp razor, but the whole operation only took a few minutes. In a way, I was glad I couldn't see what they were doing to me. Watching my vindictive cousin tidy up around my clittie with a razor-sharp weapon was the last thing I wanted to see!

"On your hands and knees now, baby, and put your bum-bum up in the air and your face down on the table," Sandy crooned, mimicking Bonnie's syrupy baby-talk. I blindly shifted on to my tummy and then drew my knees up under my hips, so I was kneeling with my legs either side of the damp nappy lying underneath me. "Good girl. Now reach back with both hands, and pull those botty-cheeks wide apart for me."

It was incredibly humiliating holding my bumcheeks spread as wide as possible, while the two girls stood at the end of the table chattily assessing my wrinkled back door. At least I knew I was clean back there this morning, since Bonnie had wiped my bottom and thoroughly washed my poo-poo hole and my bits after potty time. The cool foam was applied around my anus and the odd scraping began again, and a minute later I thought they were done. "Stay just like that, baby girl," cooed Sandy. "We just want to spray some anaesthetic around your freckle and your dangly bits." I squealed as a freezing squirt of high-pressure spray was applied around my shrivelling hole. "Don't let go of your botty!" Sandy warned me. "Keep holding your cheeks wide apart, just like that, and don't move!" She sprayed around my ball sack too, and when the chilling aerosol spray hit my shrunken clittie, I shrieked in pain. It was like when my angry Mummy pressed the frozen spoon against my naughty stiff tool, and I struggled to keep stretching my bumcheeks apart.

Totally beyond my control, my fear-weakened bladder muscles relaxed, and a hot stream of piddle splashed onto the damp nappy lying underneath me. "Oh my God!" Sandy cried in alarm. "She's pissing herself!"
Bonnie's laugh was a cruel short bark. "That'd be right," she muttered callously. "What a hopeless baby!" My tears began to wet the black cotton mask covering my eyes, and my shoulders started shaking as I sobbed in shame. Thankfully the flow of urine was short-lived, and only a few yellow drops splashed onto the white towels covering the table.
"Oh well. We had to change the towels, anyway. Aww, it's okay, baby," Sandy crooned mock-sympathetically, while Bonnie giggled like a maniac. "In a few minutes, you'll be completely numb down there. It only lasts about fifteen or twenty minutes, but it will stop the hot wand from burning your sensitive bits. Okay?"

I mumbled something incoherent in reply, preoccupied with holding back my ever-present tears, while attempting to hold apart my shivering bumcheeks with my trembling fingers at the same time. The girls stepped over to the bench lining one side wall and chatted quietly while I noisily sniffled back my tears, so I missed the next few snippets of information. "What do you mean, you only got four?" Bonnie softly demanded, when her accomplice passed her a handful of loaded 10 ml. syringes.
"Be thankful I got those," Sandy replied in a huff. "I had to pinch them out of the doctor's bag, you know? That was all I could take without her noticing."
"But four is barely enough to do her anus. I needed six more to do her clittie, too," the frowning teen complained in a whisper, darting a glance in my direction to make sure I wasn't listening.

"Then you'll just have to choose," her friend snippily informed her. "You've got enough to numb the muscles of her poop-hole for two to three months, but that's all. Take what you can get," she advised the scowling Amazon.
"That'll have to do," Bonnie responded, still sounding morose. "I wanted her to be numb and to lose control at both ends, but…" Her expression brightened when she hopefully asked, "Maybe you can get another six syringes by next month, when I come back to work?" When Sandy bit her bottom lip uncertainly and shrugged non-comittally, Bonnie turned to glance disdainfully at my kneeling form. "Has the anaesthetic spray had time to work on her yet?"
"Should have," Sandy replied, picking up a metal nail file from the bench. She stepped closer to my kneeling form, and poked the edge of my wide-stretched pink hole with the sharp tip. I barely flinched at the vague contact. "Can you feel that, Baby Jennie?" Sandy demanded loudly.

"Not weally," I replied uncertainly. "Did you touch my poo-poo hole?" Both girls sniggered at my childish expressions, but Bonnie replied.
"Yes baby." Her voice sounded too happy.
"Can I let go of my botty cheekth now?" I pleaded. My fingers were getting tired, and the position was very uncomfortable - not to mention extremely humiliating.

"No baby, hold still for another two minutes…" The Botox injections were already loaded into single-use syringes, and Bonnie simply had to flip off the cap and stick one in, and then depress the plunger. She swiftly used the four syringes, painlessly injecting a dose at the four points of the compass around my exposed anal sphincter. I felt some vague pushing sensations around my numb anus, but that was all. I didn't know what they were doing to me, and I wasn't game to ask. As soon as Bonnie stepped aside, Sandy chilled my relaxed anus and then zapped me with the hot electrolysis wand again. She did all around my wide-stretched hole and between my spread legs, and then they ordered me to roll over again.

My nappy felt wet and cold under my bum when I lay back, and the sensation was strangely unpleasant. When Sandy used my clittie as a handle to move my limp genitals aside while they lasered around my bits, it slowly grew hard in her warm fist, despite the chilling spray she used on me. She simply giggled at my untoward reaction, but it was a good thing I couldn't see the malevolent scowl on Bonnie's face. They stretched out my ball sack and zapped every inch of the normally-wrinkled flesh, and they even did around the base of my semi-stiff shaft, too. In a few minutes they were finished, and I was grateful when they ordered me to remove the eye mask. I blinked blindly in the sudden bright light, and gazed around a little dopily. "There you are, baby," Sandy cooed with a pleased smile. "No more yucky hair down there." She didn't bother to mention that although I would need another five or six monthly treatments, the effects would be permanent. By the time they finished with me, my body would be baby-smooth all over - forever!

"Come on, baby, let's pin your nappy back on before the other girls arrive," Bonnie urged, grinning down at my newly-hairless form in malicious satisfaction. "We don't want them seeing that disgusting little thing between your legs, do we?" she insisted, making me cringe in shame. I was disappointed when my sneering cousin pinned my cooling damp nappy back around my loins, and I whimpered wordlessly in useless protest. It felt cold and wet and clammy now, and I didn't like it.
"Aren't you going to give her a fresh diaper?" Sandy inquired, voicing my unspoken thoughts.

"Nope," Bonnie coldly replied, dashing my hopes. "She really likes running around in wet nappies and pissy panties, anyway. Don't you, Baby Jennie?" she scathingly demanded, as she tugged my pink plastic panties into place. I didn't bother dignifying her comments with a reply, and sat there in silence while she put my shoes and socks on for me, too. Sandy held my pink shortalls down and open for me to step into them. When I was fully dressed, the grinning blonde took my hand and led me back out to the main area of the salon. My normal waddling gait was even more exaggerated because of the uncomfortable, clammy wet cloth bunched between my thighs - but at least I wasn't waddling as badly as Bonnie.

To be continued in chapter 28.
Hugs from Baby Jennie

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

Dear shitkickercitys, thanks for the comment.

Synopsis; Aunty Cath and Mummy pick up Baby Jennie and Baby Bonnie from the hairdressing salon. Baby Jennie is forced to ride in a toddler's stroller while Bonnie pushes her to the mall. They meet Tammy and her mother outside the medical supply store, where Mummy leaves the others to take Baby Jennie to the dancewear shop to buy the sissy baby her very own tutu.

Chapter 29. Let's Go Shopping!

I flopped backwards into the low-slung stroller, my cheeks scarlet with shame as Mummy fussed about with the pink nylon restraining straps. The passing crowd on the sidewalk swirled around us, and I could feel a hundred pairs of eyes aimed in my direction. I sat in the lay-back seat looking inside the salon. My blue eyes widened in shock when I saw my grim-faced Aunty fastening a new white leather toddler harness around my embarrassed cousin's buxom torso. It had narrow shoulder straps like my harness, and shiny chromed D-rings front and back to attach the slender leather reins my sadistic Aunty held curled ready in one fist. Unlike mine, Bonnie's harness had only one chest strap that buckled in the rear between her shoulder blades, but the white leather front piece under her huge bosom was about four inches wide. There was a pattern of glittering diamantes blazing across the front, too. When Aunty Cath used the reins to drag my cringing cousin closer, I saw the sparkling jewels formed the words, 'Baby Bonnie.'

Mummy had me securely buckled into the stroller before I knew it. I anxiously pawed at my breast, unconsciously searching for my missing dum-dums. The pink nylon webbing straps came up between my thighs and formed an 'H' over my chest, keeping my upper body pressed back into the low canvas seat. The straps disappeared over my shoulders and clipped to the rear of the seat somehow, but the locking mechanism was out of sight - and surely out of my reach. The tight straps between my legs and my bulky wet nappy forced my thighs wide apart. Like Bonnie's, my droopy baby-pink plastic panties poked out through the gaping leg holes of my shortalls. Anyone glancing between our legs couldn’t help noticing our exposed plastic panties. They’d know for certain that we were diapered like big babies! I didn't realise my thumb had crept into my mouth and in the absence of my soothing dum-dums, my digit would have to serve.

"Come on, Baby Bonnie," Aunty Cath urged her humiliated daughter in loud condescending toddler tones. She used the white leather reins to steer my red-faced cousin into position behind my stroller. "You can push your pretty baby cousin down the path to the mall, little girl. Seeing that you like to expose Baby Jennie's babyfied state to the general public, we'll see how much you enjoy the same fate." She gathered the looped ends of white baby reins in one hand, and pointed with the other. "Go on! Push Baby Jennie to the mall, you naughty little girl!" Mummy picked up my heavy change bag and slung it over her shoulder, and she let Bonnie wheel me past before she turned to follow.

The slender white reins that Aunty Cath had curled in one fist were about ten feet long. That meant the grown-ups could saunter along the footpath several yards behind us, so they could observe other people's reactions to our bizarre appearance. The parking lot was packed and the sidewalk was crowded when Bonnie wheeled me towards the mall entrance, where the bustling Saturday crowd became much denser. The lunchtime shoppers were mostly women and teenage girls, with the odd group of noisy adolescent males larking about. Everyone's eyes turned towards Bonnie pushing me along in my pink stroller, and I could feel the embarrassment radiating in palpable waves from my cousin.

I knew I looked like a beautiful little girl with my feminine curly hairstyle and pretty make-up, so I wasn't too concerned when most people smiled down indulgently at me reclining in my stroller. I didn't realise my thumb was buried in my mouth and my fingers were curled around my nose. I was sucking it hard and rhythmically, like an anxious toddler searching for solace. Peoples’ eyes widened when they took in Bonnie's juvenile outfit, her embarrassing toddler harness and baby reins, her pronounced pear-shape and her distinct waddling gait. I knew they couldn't see the tell-tale drooping baby panties poking out the legs of her shortalls, because the back of my stroller mostly shielded her lower body from their view. But I felt positive that when they walked past us, their heads swivelled and their mouths dropped open like rotating clowns in a sideshow alley, as they turned back to stare at the beautiful long-legged teenager being taken for a walk by her mummy in her gleaming white toddler harness and baby reins. Then they couldn't help seeing the shiny plastic panties sagging down between my cowed cousin's helplessly-splayed thighs.

I expected my ride in the stroller to be an excruciatingly humiliating experience, but as everyone's attention seemed focused on Bonnie, I didn't feel so bad. I knew I looked like an overgrown diapered toddler, but my beautiful buxom cousin couldn't help looking like a grown-up, despite her juvenile outfit and her bulging wet nappies. For once I wasn't the centre of attention, and I settled back in my stroller and relaxed slightly. I wiggled my botty about in my comforting warm wet nappies, completely unaware I was busily sucking my thumb like an overgrown baby. It was even more crowded when we entered the mall, and it felt like dozens of people were staring at us as Bonnie wheeled me inside the wide sliding doors. There were three levels of shops inside, around a vast open space. The high vaulted ceiling was made from translucent glass panels, so the arcade was filled with bright sunlight. There were hundreds of people leaning over the glass balcony railings on the floors above, gazing down into the milling crowd. Some girls just stared at us with wide disbelieving eyes, while others grabbed their friends and pointed out our embarrassing predicament, before they all burst into shrill shrieks of feminine laughter.

Aunty Cath used the reins to draw Bonnie up short outside a chain pharmacy, a few doors inside the main entrance. She urged her daughter to wheel me inside the drugstore with a sardonic smile. "This is where I bought Baby Jennie's dummy," Cath informed my mother, who smiled briefly and nodded in understanding. My smirking Aunt used the reins to steer Bonnie over to the counter in the back, where a pretty, dark-skinned teenager was serving an older woman. The slender Indian girl found it difficult to keep her eyes on her elderly customer when Bonnie wheeled me closer, and my wet diapered cousin stood behind me glowing with embarrassment. There was an older woman in a white jacket standing behind a high counter in one corner of the pharmacy – probably the pharmacist - on a raised platform which allowed her to see every inch of the shop floor. She was wearing oversized spectacles that seemed to enlarge her watery blue eyes, which watched our approach to the counter without blinking. The pharmacist was preoccupied typing up a prescription label, and while we stood there waiting, she returned to her duties at hand.

When the black-haired eighteen-year-old shop girl turned to serve us, she stared at Bonnie and me with a mixture of curiosity and contempt written all over her pretty oval face. I knew she was reading the diamante legend on Bonnie's shameful toddler harness and the humiliating embroidered message on my bibbie, but then her disdainful dark eyes swept away from us to settle on the adults. "Yes, ladies? Can I help you?" she politely inquired of Aunty Cath and Mummy, in perfect if accented English. It was obvious she considered Bonnie and me nothing but small children, and she didn't waste time consulting us.

"Yes dear, you might remember me? I was in here last week, to buy a big dummy for a special big baby girl," my smirking Aunty replied, with a nod to me in the stroller. "You served me."
"Oh yes, ma'am," gushed the pretty raven-haired assistant, "I remember! The Nuk number four pacifier, wasn't it? You bought the last pink one in stock."
"Yes, I believe that was it," murmured Aunty Cath with a pleased smile. "You said you were ordering in some new stock. Is that right?"
"Yes ma'am, and they arrived just the other day. Here, let me show you. There are a few different colours and patterns to choose from now, too."
"Oh good," replied my Aunty, with a calculating smile for her humiliated, red-cheeked daughter. Both adults leaned on the counter to examine the handful of large dummies the dusky shop assistant produced from a drawer behind her. From my lowly position in my humiliating pink stroller, I couldn't see a thing, although Bonnie was standing behind me gripping the stroller handles with knuckles that had turned white.

"I think this one, and this one, too," Aunty Cath decided, as she pointed out the pacifiers she liked. "I like to have a spare dum-dums on hand for my special baby girl, just in case. You know how silly toddlers are always losing their dummies. Oh, and I want some of those cute plastic chains on a clip, to secure her dummy to her outfit, too."
"Certainly, ma'am," replied the smiling Indian girl. She reached into another drawer behind her and produced several rattling plastic chains. She glanced at me and my shame-faced cousin before asking the adults; "I assume you would prefer pink?"
"Of course," confirmed Mummy, stepping beside Bonnie and patting her niece on the head in a deliberately patronising manner. She seemed so much taller than my cringing cousin. "Little girls always prefer pink!” Mummy turned to glance down at me and when she noticed I was sucking my thumb, she bent down and plucked out the offending digit with a frown. "Oh dear! Mummy forgot to bring your dum-dums today, baby." When she let go, my sloppy wet thumb automatically returned to my mouth without a second's thought.

Aunty Cath intervened with a condescending smile for my infantile preoccupation with my thumb. "That's alright, diddums!” she crooned to me. “Aunty Cath will buy her precious baby niece a new dummy, too. All baby girls need to have a spare dummy, in case one gets lost." She picked up one of the huge pacifiers and snapped off the protective plastic cap, and she attached a new pink plastic chain to the ring at the front. My Aunty loomed over me and when her grinning face was inches from my own, she stuck out her glistening pink tongue. Cath lavishly licked the amber rubber teat and the inside of the pink plastic guard till they were dripping with her saliva, and smiled wolfishly. She pulled out my drool-covered thumb and popped the sloppy nipple between my plump pink lips. I gratefully sucked on the slick rubber teat while Aunty clipped the small plastic clip to the lace-edged collar of my bibbie. She cooed to me in honeyed baby tones, "There you are, darling! Have a lovely suck on that instead, Baby Jennie."

When I glanced back over my shoulder, I saw from the mortified expression on Bonnie's face that she knew what was coming next. Her cheeks were aflame with shame when Aunty Cath snapped open another huge pink pacifier and attached the clip and chain. Mummy accepted the oversized toddler soother from her sister's hand with a thin-lipped smile. She turned to face Bonnie, so the humiliated girl could watch her liberally licking the teat and wetting the inside of the plastic guard with her spit. "Open wide, Baby Bonnie," Mummy sang invitingly. The buxom beauty reluctantly opened her mouth, like she was expecting a dentist to start drilling - without anaesthetic. As soon as her full pink lips parted enough, Mummy rammed the dripping amber nipple into the embarrassed girl's sulky mouth.

"Have a good suck on that, Baby Bonnie," Mummy ordered the crushed teenager, while my smirking Aunty paid for their purchases. Even though I knew Mummy and Bonnie were around the same height, Mummy towered over my cousin today in her five-inch heeled, brown platform boots. “Let me hear you sucking that dum-dums, Baby Bonnie,” Mummy firmly commanded. “Nice and loud now.” As Bonnie obediently drew harder on the rubber teat filling her mouth, she seemed to shrink, too. She looked even smaller and more child-like cowering beside her tall stern-faced aunt.

"Alright, girls. Let's go and buy my naughty big baby some special new underwear," Aunty Cath brightly suggested, giving the leather baby reins an imperious flick. Bonnie obviously knew where we were going, and she wheeled me out of the pharmacy and steered the stroller in the direction of the medical supply shop I first visited with Mummy only two short weeks ago. The grown-ups let us wander a few paces ahead of them again, so they could enjoy the passing crowd's reaction to our embarrassing infantile appearance.

I contentedly sucked on my dum-dums, watching the astonished faces of the women and girls approaching us when they caught sight of the dummy-sucking diapered teenager gripping the handles of my pink stroller. As we approached the double sliding glass doors at the entrance to 'Johnson & Johnson Medical Supplies', I recognised one of the people walking towards us. It was Tammy, and she was holding the hand of an attractive mid-forties blonde who looked a lot like her.

Bonnie's footsteps faltered when she spotted her petite blonde friend accompanied by her beaming mother. The white rubber wheels of my stroller slowly ground to a halt. Our parents caught up with us as Tammy gave us a shy wave and quietly called out, "Hello girls!" Bonnie and I kept sucking our dummies and didn't reply, but I tentatively waved in return. The gorgeous little blonde was dressed in another of her sweet Empire-line babydoll frocks, a pleated white one this time. The wide-flared hemline was so short, I could almost see the crotch of her panties when she nervously jiggled from foot to foot. Tammy was wearing her pink sneakers with the fluffy pink laces - just like mine - only her frilly anklet socks had white lace trimming instead of pink.

The slender woman holding her hand was dressed in a pair of faded blue jeans and white sneakers, with a simple lemon cotton blouse over the top. Tammy's mother smiled broadly at our appearance, and turned to glance down indulgently at the pretty petite teen tightly clutching her hand. Even though Tammy looked a trifle embarrassed to run into us while we were dressed like big babies, I could see she was almost quivering with excitement.

"Hello little Tammy, hello Irene," Aunty Cath greeted the couple in her loud booming voice. "Fancy meeting you here!"
"Hello Cath," the blonde woman replied as she paused in front of us. She turned so her gaze encompassed my mother. "Is this your sister? You two look so much alike." She ignored Bonnie and me for the moment, and I felt like an insignificant child trapped in my toddler stroller.
"This is my sister, Isabell - Isabell, this is Irene, Tammy's mummy. Irene, I'm sure you've already heard all about Isabell’s Baby Jennie."

The smiling woman said hello to my mother, nodded a greeting to my dummy-sucking cousin, and bent down to gaze at me. When her smile broadened, I hesitantly smiled back. "So this is Baby Jennie? My, my! I've certainly been hearing a lot about you, baby girl!" Even though her friendly smile was without a trace of guile, I could feel my cheeks flush warmly with embarrassment. I sucked harder on my new dum-dums, surprised to find myself enjoying the soothing rubber teat.

"I've brought my naughty Baby Bonnie in this afternoon to buy her some new nappies and baby panties," Aunty Cath informed Tammy's mother. Irene smiled at the buxom red-faced teen cringing behind me, her new pink dummy clenched between gritted teeth. "Seeing that she's going to be wearing nappies 24/7 for the next four weeks,” Cath explained, “I thought we'd better stock up."
"Me too," admitted the smiling blonde woman. "After we got home yesterday afternoon, Tammy and I had a lovely long chat about her… desires." Irene turned to glance at her beautiful pink-cheeked daughter and her expression was full of love. "When Tammy told me she secretly wanted to be babied now and then, I couldn't have been more delighted!" I think everybody's eyebrows hit their hairlines when we heard that unexpected comment - except Tammy and her mother, of course. Irene leaned across me in my stroller to stage-whisper to my Aunty, "I always thought they grew up too fast, you know? I felt quite relieved when she told me all she wanted was for me to baby her again now and then. So we've come in to purchase some nappies and baby panties for my special big baby girl, too."

The smiling woman didn't seem to notice the stunned reactions of the other adults. "But- but-" Aunty Cath stammered, "what about what the girls were doing in Bonnie's bedroom?"
Irene grinned and waved her free hand dismissively, ignoring her beautiful daughter's blushing red face and Bonnie’s sudden fascination with the lacy frills around her ankles. "Oh that? It's completely normal for teenagers to experiment sexually. One incident does not a sexual fetish make," Irene pronounced with misplaced certainty.

I thought, 'We're talking about a lot more than one incident!' But my opinion wasn't sought, and I thoughtfully chewed on the pleasant rubbery teat of my dum-dums as I contemplated what life might be like in Tammy's more lenient household.

Mummy interrupted their conversation to address Aunty Cath. "I have to take Baby Jennie upstairs to Bloch's, and buy the girls some tutus for tomorrow's party."
"Yes, I remembered," responded Cath with an indulgent smile. She dug in her handbag and produced a fat white business envelope. "Here, darling," she urged, thrusting the envelope into Mummy's hands. "Take this, and use it to buy something really pretty for your little girls."
"Is your little girl going to Daisy Green's birthday party tomorrow?" Irene asked my Mummy, who nodded. "My eight-year-old daughter Mandy has been invited, too. She does ballet with young Daisy, you know?" The small blonde woman turned to her even-smaller teenage daughter and asked, "Perhaps you'd like to go with Mandy to Daisy's party, too, Tammy? Now that you know some of your little baby friends will be there?"

I felt an uncontrollable thrill of excitement when I imagined the gorgeous blonde teenager turning up at the same party as me. I couldn’t help wondering, 'What might Tammy wear if she attended?'
"Can we talk about it later, please Mummy?" Tammy pleaded, shuffling her tiny feet in embarrassment, her red cheeks turning scarlet. Her mother nodded and smiled, looking unmistakably pleased. Irene obviously loved it when her almost-grown-up daughter called her 'Mummy'.

When my Mummy opened the fat envelope full of cash from Aunty Cath, her mouth dropped open in shock. "Oh Cath! No, I- I can't accept this!” she protested. “It's too much!"
"Nonsense!" my Aunty replied in a firm soothing tone, resolutely pressing the open envelope back into her sister's hands. "Take it and spend it! Please?"
"But- but-"
"Look, if it appeases your conscience, consider it a loan."
"A loan?" Mummy feebly objected. "But you know I'd never be able to pay you back."

My Aunty gave her a sly wink. "Don't be too sure of that," she replied, and her expression seemed to indicate she knew something her younger sister didn't. "You go to the tutu shop with Baby Jennie, and Irene and I will take our special baby girls shopping for some pretty new baby panties and some super-absorbent nappies. Alright, Irene?"
"Yes Cath, certainly," replied the beaming blonde. Irene gave Mummy and me a farewell wave as she led her gorgeous rosy-cheeked daughter inside the store.

Mummy took the stroller handles from Bonnie as Aunty Cath used the reins to drag my cousin towards the automated sliding glass doors. "Come on, Baby Jennie," Mummy sang to me, after she slid my full change bag onto the wire tray underneath my seat. "Let's go and buy you the prettiest tutu in the shop!"
"We'll meet you back here in about half an hour. Alright?" Aunty Cath insisted, and Mummy nodded in agreement before she wheeled me away. “Come on down, Baby Bonnie,” Cath loudly urged her daughter, mimicking the voice of a popular game-show host. “Let’s go shopping!”

The dance wear shop was located on the second level of the mall, so Mummy steered my stroller over to the lifts. We waited beside the elevator doors for a few minutes, and a few other shoppers with strollers and prams gathered alongside us. The children in the strollers didn't seem to pay me any heed, but I could feel their mothers discretely studying my infantile appearance - so at odds with my size. I tried to take comfort in the fat rubber teat in my mouth, sucking earnestly on my dum-dums and enjoying the familiar way the turned-up pink plastic ring gently bobbed against the bottom of my nose. When the other mothers' eyes kept drifting down to stare between my legs, I suspected my drooping plastic panties must be poking out the leg holes of my juvenile shortalls. I writhed in silent embarrassment in the tight nylon webbing restraints while Mummy wheeled my stroller backwards into the elevator.

No-one spoke to us until the lift started moving. One woman who had been fixedly staring at my puffy crotch, leaned over me to tap my mother on the shoulder. The busybody inquired with an overly-sympathetic expression, "Is your little girl still wearing nappies?"
"Yes, she still needs her diapers," my Mummy replied a tad shortly.
"Is she developmentally delayed mentally, or is it a physical handicap?"
"Neither, really," Mummy callously admitted, with a frowning glance at me. "Just laziness," she informed the startled woman, whose face instantly puckered in disapproval. My cheeks turned crimson.

The lift doors fortunately hissed open at that point, and Mummy wheeled me outside before the offended woman could respond. The ballet shop was only a few doors from the elevator, and there were several brightly-clad mannequins in the huge plate-glass display window. Two of the store dummies were dressed in gorgeous full flaring tutus, one pink and one gleaming white, while the other was wearing a glamorous short pink dance outfit with knitted pink leggings stretched over silver lycra tights. Mummy steered me towards the entrance and pushed open the heavy plate-glass door with the front wheels of my stroller. The shop was cavernous, with an enormous high ceiling from which dangled a dazzling array of frothy tutus. It looked like the ceiling was made of colourful clouds of fluffy tulle. One side wall was lined with hanging racks full of gorgeous brightly-coloured dance outfits, while the opposite wall held display racks of ballet slippers and dance shoes. I felt my heart beat faster as I gazed around in wonder at the frothy sea of femininity surrounding me.

A mid-thirties saleswoman dressed all in black was attending to some customers at the far end of the store. A stout middle-aged woman smiled proudly at her ten-year-old daughter, who was modelling a baby-blue tutu. The slender brunette child was primping and posing in front of a tall mirror mounted on the end wall. The stiff navy-blue tulle skirts swished and swayed attractively with her every tiny movement, and the shiny pale-blue lycra bodice glistened almost wetly in the bright spotlights. A younger, black-clad saleswoman approached us from behind the long, glass-topped counter. From her slender frame, perfect posture, and her pronounced duck-footed waddle, I assumed she had to be a long-time ballet dancer herself. The pretty smiling blonde was wearing a simple black polo shirt over her small bosom, and a short flared, pleated black cotton skirt below, like one of the brief dance skirts I spotted hanging on one of the many racks. Her thighs and calves bulged with muscles under her sheer tan pantyhose, although her ankles were slender and her feet tiny. She was wearing flat black Princess slippers made from supple leather, and she padded silently over to Mummy and me.

"Can I help you?" she asked Mummy, before crouching down at the foot of my stroller. She looked around twenty or so, although she still might have been a teenager. With her pretty face painted with so much make-up, it was kind of hard to tell. She straightened my lace-lavished bibbie across my breast, smiling broadly at the tell-tale embroidered message. "Oh, isn't she gorgeous!" She turned her face up so that her welcoming smile included my mother. "What a pretty little girl."
"Thank you," Mummy politely responded, before adding, "I need to buy a tutu for my special little Princess to wear to a birthday party tomorrow afternoon."
"Is that Daisy Green's 'Fairy Princess' party?" the smiling young woman inquired as she sprang to her feet. "I've had about ten mothers bring their little girls in this week already," she informed us with a pleased smile. When Mummy nodded, she continued, "Then I suppose you'll want some fairy wings, too?" Mummy smiled and nodded agreement again, and the pretty saleswoman asked, "Will you be buying your sweet baby girl some ballet slippers as well?"

In reply, Mummy produced the envelope from Aunty Cath and pulled out a sheaf of crisp, brand-new, hundred-dollar bills. "We need everything," Mummy confirmed, and the young saleswoman's face lit up at the potential commission. "I also need an outfit for my three-year-old daughter, too."
"My name is Michelle," the pretty blonde introduced herself, reaching across me in the stroller to daintily shake Mummy's hand. "I'll take care of all your needs, but your three-year-old? They don't actually make proper tutus in sizes that small," she reluctantly admitted. "Most ballet schools won't take pupils under the age of six. However," she amended, when a look of disappointment flashed across my mother's face, "we do keep a selection of 'pretend' tutus for the pre-schoolers. They're almost like the real thing," Michelle assured Mummy, "except not as frothy, and nowhere near as sturdily made. They are less than half the price of the proper tutus."
"That will be fine," Mummy replied, smiling with relief.

The pretty blonde saleswoman pointed to the humiliating embroidered message on my bibbie and glanced down at my bulging crotch, and she turned to ask my mother; "Is your little girl wearing a nappy?"
"Yes, I'm afraid so," Mummy sadly confirmed. "She's quite the hopeless little panty-wetter."
"Is she wet right now?" the young woman asked. Michelle frowned when Mummy grimaced and nodded in confirmation. "I'm sorry, but she can't try on any of the leotard tutus while she's wearing a wet nappy. It's a health regulation," she regretfully explained. I wondered, ‘How many diapered little girls had to try on tutus to make such a bizarre rule worth concocting?’

Mummy reached down behind me and produced my pink gingham diaper bag from the tray under my stroller. "I have a clean disposable and wipes right here in her baby bag. It will only take me a few minutes to change Baby Jennie into a fresh diaper," Mummy informed the girl, as she loosened the pink nylon straps binding me in place. "As long as you have somewhere I can change her?" She stepped around to the front of my stroller, and reached out to grab my hands to pull me to my feet.

"Certainly, certainly," responded the eager young assistant, keen to make a sale. "Follow me," Michelle insisted, as she waddled towards the back of the store in her strange duck-footed gait. "We have a stock room out the back with a wooden bench. I'm sure you can change your little girl's nappy out there without too much trouble."

Mummy hefted the change bag over one shoulder and gripped my hand, and she led me slowly waddling after the duck-footed blonde. I saw the young girl in the blue tutu and her mother watching our approach in the huge wall mirror. When we were a few feet away, the little girl inquisitively twirled to face me. She pointed at my bulging crotch and cried, "Look, Mummy! That girl is wearing a nappy!"
Her mother frowned down forbiddingly at the bulging crotch of my juvenile shortalls and my awkward waddling gait. She responded, "Yes she is, sweetie! And by the looks of it, she's very wet, too! Some children just never seem to want to grow up," she added snidely. My grim-faced Mummy led me past them and into the stock room out the back. I knew my cheeks were pink with shame, and I chewed on the rubber teat of my dum-dums to ease my anguish.

"Here," Michelle said, indicating the wide, waist-high wooden bench. She brushed aside some fluffy faux-fur decorations and a bolt of shiny hot-pink lycra material to clear a space.
Mummy dumped my change bag on the floor. "Come on, Baby Jennie," Mummy urged me, grunting with effort as she lifted me onto the high wooden bench.

Michelle commented, “Gosh, she’s a big baby, isn’t she?” Mummy merely nodded and gave her a wry smile. I lay back, smiling up gratefully at the pretty young woman when she rearranged the bolt of material so that it acted as a cushion for my curl-covered head. When Michelle loitered beside Mummy while she unclipped the snap crotch of my pink shortalls, I wished she would give us some privacy. But who considers the desires of helpless little babies in wet nappies?

"Lift up, baby girl," Mummy sang. When I raised my damp padded bum high off the table, Mummy pushed the shortall flaps up out of harm's way front and back. She tugged down my glistening baby-pink plastic panties to my knees. "Good girl, and down," Mummy commanded, and my soggy nappy bottom plopped onto the wooden bench with a distinct wet sound.
"My my! She's a wet little thing, isn't she?" I knew the smiling blonde was just trying to be friendly, but her running commentary was so embarrassing!
"Oh yes. My Baby Jennie is a heavy wetter," Mummy conceded a touch sadly, as she slid the damp baby panties clear of my feet.

When Mummy unpinned the side flaps and lowered the saturated front of my yellowed terry nappies, the watching young woman squealed in surprise. "Oh my God! Your little girl is a little boy!" I knew my cheeks were blazing with embarrassment. It seems it didn't matter how many times my true sex was revealed to a total stranger. I felt crushed with humiliation every time. Life would have been so much easier if I’d been born a girl.
"Yes, Michelle," Mummy grimly confirmed, sounding apologetic as she wiped my limp clittie and ball sack with cool baby wipes.

"But- but she's so gorgeous!" Michelle shook her head in astonishment. "She's far too pretty to be a boy!" Despite my embarrassment, my heart was gladdened by her kind words. But Mummy’s response made my cheeks burn with shame once more.
"My pretty little boy is just a sissy baby girl at heart. She loves to try on her girlfriends' clothes and undies, and I recently discovered she loves wearing their frilly tutus, too. But my naughty Baby Jennie can't seem to stop wetting and soiling her panties like a hopeless little baby."
"Oh dear," Michelle responded, clucking her tongue in sympathy for my mother. "It's a good thing you keep her in nappies then, I suppose."

After Mummy disposed of the soggy liner in a nappy sack and rolled my wet terry nappies into a used plastic shopping bag, she produced a puffy pink disposable from my voluminous gingham change bag. She unfolded and straightened out the papery disposable diaper, before sliding it under my raised rear. Mummy powdered me heavily before she taped the side flaps to the front, sealing me in the crackling disposable. "It's probably just as well you changed your sissy baby into a disposable diaper," admitted the grinning girl, who seemed to have recovered from her initial shock. "I'm not sure she would have fitted into a full leotard tutu with those big cloth nappies pinned around her bum." Mummy didn't comment as she unclipped the plastic chain of my dummy from the lacy collar of my bib, before removing the humiliating item and tossing it in the overflowing change bag.

I frowned in dismay when Mummy removed my shortalls completely, rather than tugging the flaps down and refastening them under my crotch. She made me sit up and then she drew my white t-shirt over my head. She unlaced my pink sneakers and removed them, too. "Come on, Baby Jennie," she urged me as she lifted me down. "Let's go and find my little Princess the prettiest tutu in the shop." I didn't want to go back out there dressed in nothing but a puffy disposable diaper and my frilly anklet socks, but when Mummy snatched my hand and gripped it tightly, I knew I had no choice in the matter. She hauled me into the main area of the boutique, and the smirking young saleswoman followed in our wake, carrying my packed diaper bag and a bundle of my clothes.

The pretty brunette ten-year-old was still twirling and posing in front of the mirror beside the stock room door when Mummy led me out, my dummy clamped between my lips and the plastic clip and chain bouncing against my bare breast. I knew my face was already pink with shame, but the girl's disdainful expression brought a fresh burst of heat to my rosy cheeks. Her mother was paying for her newly-purchased outfit at the cashier's desk, beaming with pride for her little ballerina in the shiny baby-blue tutu. Her contented smile turned to a frown when her eyes slid over to where my Mummy dragged me across to a rack of plain white tutus, dressed only in my puffy pink disposable diaper and lace-trimmed anklet socks.

"How old is she?" Michelle inquired of Mummy as she waddled along behind us. "She looks about six or seven, but she could probably get away with a size eight. That will give her a little more growing room, so that she can wear it for more than one season." She dumped the change bag beside the cashier's desk and tossed my clothes and shoes on top.
"My big sissy baby is thirteen years old," Mummy replied in a loud clear voice, with total disregard for my feelings, “but I want my pretty Princess’ outfit to be a perfect fit for the party.” I heard the woman being served at the counter gasp in astonishment. I refused to turn around to see the contemptuous expression I knew I would find on her sneering face. Blood pounded in my ears and I wanted to shrivel up and die.

"Thirteen?" Michelle repeated in stunned disbelief. "But- but she's so small and dainty! She could easily pass for a seven-year-old."
"I know, I know." Mummy sadly confirmed, "My Baby Jennie is a late developer - in every sense of the term."
Michelle reached past Mummy to select a plain white tutu from the rack. It looked slightly shop-soiled and I frowned in dismay. “This one is a size seven," the salesgirl said, handing the hanger to Mummy. "It should fit your little sissy perfectly." She pointed around the corner where there was a row of small louvred swing doors leading in to a number of spacious change rooms. “Why don't you take your… Baby Jennie into one of the change booths, and try it on her for size." When Mummy accepted the hanger and led me around the corner, the bubbly blonde followed us, explaining; "Once we know your sissy's correct size, we can show you something a bit more… special, for your precious little Princess. Okay?"

Inside the change room, Mummy held the white leotard down and open for me to step into. I propped one shaky hand against the wall for support as I clumsily raised each foot in turn. Mummy pulled the bottom part up my trembling legs until the leotard crotch pressed my puffy diaper firmly against my groin. I couldn't help my body's automatic reaction. As soon as she drew the slithering lycra bodice up over my shivering torso, I could feel my excitable clittie swelling to rock-hard fullness inside the rapidly-warming disposable. I hoped Mummy wouldn't notice my turgid excitement, but my silent prayers were in vain.

After she rearranged the elastic shoulder straps over my slender shoulders, Mummy knelt in front of me and fussed about with the bouncing layers of rustling white tulle swirling around my hips. She raised the front of my bobbing stiff underskirts with one hand and with the other, Mummy stroked the shiny crotch of my tight leotard panties, right over my straining erection. I was afraid I was going to get into trouble again, but when Mummy squeezed my steel-hard stiffie through my panties and dry diaper, she merely shook her head forgivingly and gave me a thin-lipped smile. "My goodness! You love being a pretty girl so much! Don't you, Baby Jennie?"
"Yeth Mummy, I do," I confessed, my eyes shining with love for my generous loving mother. She firmly gripped my straining erection again.

She gave my throbbing shaft a few hard squeezes that made me shiver with unrepressed excitement, then she released her thrilling grip. "It's alright, darling,” she reassured me. “I think Mummy understands now. You just get excited when you think of yourself as a pretty girl, don't you?" she asked as she climbed to her feet.
"Yeth Mummy," I freely admitted around the teat of my dum-dums. "I've alwayth wanted to be a pwetty wittle girl." It felt wonderful to be able to say those words out loud to Mummy at last.
Mummy reached out to cup her hand under my chin, and she raised my face until I was gazing up into her loving olive-green eyes. "I know, darling, I know," she tenderly murmured. "And one day, Mummy hopes to make all her gorgeous little girl's dreams come true."

Our deeply personal tête-à-tête was interrupted by the salesgirl anxiously waiting outside the swing doors. "How's it going in there?" she demanded in a bright inquiring tone.
"Fine, thank you Michelle. We're just coming out now," Mummy replied in a louder voice. She smoothed my bobbing skirts down in front to cover the tell-tale bulge in my panties. She turned me around and ushered me through the swing doors ahead of her. "Come on, baby. Let's take you over to the full-length mirror so you can see what you think."

I couldn't help it. As soon as Mummy released my hand, I skipped away from her on my stockinged feet, towards the huge wall-mounted mirror at the far end of the boutique. I held my hands out at my sides, so I could feel the frothy tulle skirts bouncing against my palms with my every springing step. A few feet from the mirror I went into first position and tried to rise up on my points. I suddenly remembered I wasn't wearing ballet slippers. My attempted pirouette almost went awry, and I stumbled around to find my grinning Mummy and the two saleswomen watching me, expressions of delight lighting up their faces.

"Goodness!" The older saleswoman commented with a pleased smile, "She certainly is a beautiful little ballerina. But she needs some proper ballet slippers before attempting pointe work."
"I'll get her some new shoes to try on," gushed the younger assistant enthusiastically. "What size is your sissy? A size six?" When my smiling Mummy nodded in confirmation, the grinning assistant rushed into the storeroom and returned moments later carrying a white shoebox. "Here, sweetie," she cooed to me, ushering me towards a row of chairs against one wall. "Sit down here and we can try these pretty ballet shoes on your little feet, too."

I flopped onto the padded seat and leaned back, glad there was no-one else in the store as the young saleswoman carelessly spread my bare thighs. Michelle lifted one of my feet onto her knee to slip a gleaming pink leather ballet shoe on my foot. My raised knee forced my stiff skirts up over my tummy, and I didn't realise the saleswomen could see the tenting front of my shiny leotard panties, where my stiff clittie obviously poked out through the thin padding of my dry disposable diaper. The women exchanged knowing smiles with my mother, before the grinning blonde salesgirl showed Mummy how to fasten the long satin straps around my ankles and over my calves. The frothy flared skirts bunched around my waist meant I couldn't see anything below my hips, and I sat back smiling in ignorant bliss. In minutes I had a brand-new pair of pink ballet slippers laced around my slender ankles. I jumped to my feet to the women's vocal encouragement, and danced over to the mirror once more. I raised my arms high over my halo of bouncing platinum curls, with my fingertips daintily pressed together, and went up on my tippy-toes. I performed a neat pirouette this time and then slowly collapsed into a gentle demi-plie, before rising and demurely curtsying to the assembled watching women.

My cheeks flushed warmly with pleasure when the two saleswomen actually applauded. "Well!" the older woman chuckled in astonishment. "Someone's been practising her ballet."
"Has she been taking dance lessons already?" Michelle asked, beaming in delight.
"Not really," admitted my Mummy. "The Greens live behind us, and I recently learned my special little Princess used to go over to Sally and Daisy's place and play ballerina dress-ups occasionally. Apparently Sally Green taught her a few moves."
"She's very graceful," the older woman observed. "Have you thought about sending her to proper ballet classes?"

Before my mother could respond, Michelle blurted, "Oh yes! The local ballet school has a special class, just for… er, for little Princesses, like your Baby Jennie. The sissy boys get to dress up like pretty ballerinas and dance around together like sweet little fairies, without the rest of the world watching and laughing at them."
"Yes, Mademoiselle Severance holds dance classes for the fairy boys one afternoon per week," the older assistant chimed in. "She's very good, but very strict."
"What an excellent idea," Mummy replied, her green eyes shining at that titbit of information.

Before she could ask any more questions, the older saleswoman expertly prompted her younger assistant back to the task at hand. "That tutu is a perfect fit on her," she commented, with a meaningful nod to her assistant.
"It's a size seven,' responded the grinning blonde salesgirl.
"Is this for a special occasion?" the older brunette asked Mummy, but the eager assistant replied for her.
"She's going to Daisy Green's 'Fairy Princess' party, and her mother wants something really special for her pretty Baby Jennie."

The older woman slowly ran her eyes up and down over my slender body in a professional assessing manner, then she nodded. "I think I have just the thing for your gorgeous little sissy." She took a long wooden pole from a nook in the corner, and I noticed it had a strange upside-down metal hook on one end. The brunette saleswoman walked around scanning the dozens of brightly-coloured tutus suspended from the ceiling, her head tilted back as she inspected her stock. "Aha!" She gave a cry of delight. "Here's the one!" She used the hook on the stick to latch onto a hangar dangling from the ceiling, and we all craned our necks back to watch as she carefully lowered the frothy feminine creation.

The tutu she selected for me was pink (of course,) but the bouncing skirts were made up of interwoven layers of stiff white and baby-pink tulle, edged with an inch of delicate soft white lace. It looked like it was made from multiple layers of fairy floss! The shiny bodice was baby-pink, and the shoulder straps and bustline were covered with a fluffy layer of white stretchy faux-fur, like a row of cute bunny-rabbit tails. It had the required frothy layers of ruffles across the panty seat, too, also made from matching pink and white lace.

My eyes were like saucers and my mouth dropped open as I examined the gorgeous ballet outfit. I barely caught my dripping dum-dums when it tumbled from my parted lips. “Oh Mummy!" I gasped, my big blue eyes shining with excitement. "It'th tho pwetty!"
"Yes baby," Mummy agreed, with an indulgent smile for my expression of wide-eyed wonder. She took my dum-dums from my shaky hand and suggested, "Let's try it on you and see if it fits." Mummy thanked the smiling saleswoman as she accepted the padded hangar from her hands, and then she clutched my hand to escort me back to the change room.

I simply stood there quivering helplessly with excitement, while Mummy removed my shiny white tutu and dressed me in the pink one. I fondled the soft fluffy fur trim over my bosom with trembling fingers, my pink lips parted in breathless wonder. Mummy smiled at the joy radiating from my face and needlessly asked, "Do you like it, baby?"
"Oh yeth, Mummy! Yeth!" I squealed, throwing my arms around her slender waist and hugging her tightly. "I wove it! It's tho beautiful!" As soon as I pranced through the swinging louvre doors, I found both saleswomen waiting outside the change room for me. Their faces lit up when they saw how pretty I looked.

The older brunette saleswoman nodded in approval at my delirious expression as I skipped over to the mirror. "I thought she'd like that one," she commented confidently to my mother. "All the sissies I serve in here want to wear pink tutus."
"Do you get many boys in here buying ballet dresses?" Mummy asked, while I took my turn primping and posing in front of the tall mirror.
"A few," replied the smiling brunette, her eyes focused on me. "We see about two or three per month, on average. They rarely come in by themselves, of course. Usually their mothers or their aunts bring them in, and some of the little sissies get so excited when they see themselves dressed in their gorgeous tutus for the first time, they, well -" She turned to glance at me admiring my feminine reflection, and made sure I wasn't paying attention before she continued in a loud whisper; "Some of them get so excited, they make messes in their little panties!"
Mummy chuckled and replied, "You won't have to worry about that problem with my special little Princess! The only place she'll be making a mess is in her diaper!"

The blonde assistant sniggered at the thought. "Maybe we should make all our little sissies wear diapers before they're allowed to try on any of our tutus," Michelle cheekily suggested, and both saleswomen laughed at the thought. The young shop girl then scurried off to find a simple stretchy pink tutu for my sister in a size 3.
The older brunette assistant showed Mummy a selection of strap-on fairy wings mounted on the wall behind the counter, and Mummy pointed out the pink, white and silver wings. “They'll go perfectly with that tutu,” the assistant said, smiling and nodding in approval. “I'll get you a new pair. These one are a little shop-soiled.” Before she walked away, she leaned over the counter and lowered her voice. “I have to tell you - your little boy is the prettiest sissy we've ever had shopping in here. She really could pass for a beautiful little girl, you know?”
“I know,” Mummy agreed, with a quick glance at me to make sure I wasn't listening. I was, but I tried to look like I was infatuated with my feminine reflection - which wasn't difficult - as I strained to hear their soft voices.

The inquisitive saleswoman asked, “Has she always been this way?”
“What way?” Mummy asked, trying not to bristle.
“You know - so pretty and feminine,” the brunette elaborated, which seemed to pacify Mummy somewhat. She smiled happily in response.
“Yes, she's always been a pretty little thing, and many of my friends and relatives have commented on her - her dainty manners, and-”
“So she's always been a little sissy,” the brunette concluded with a knowing nod. “I thought so. They’re usually born that way. I'll go and get those wings,” she added before she walked away, missing Mummy's quick frown of annoyance.

After the older saleswoman returned from the stock room carrying a new set of wings, she stepped over to where I stood in front of the mirror, fascinated with my pretty feminine appearance. "Here, darling," she cooed. "Hold your arms up for a moment, sweetie, so I can slip this in place… There! Now hold still while I buckle this strap together." Mummy stood behind us beaming in approval as the fussy brunette assistant buckled the beautiful fairy wings in place. They had a swirling pink and white pattern, like the wings of a beautiful butterfly, and there was silver glitter sprayed in attractive whorls over the sheer silk, too. But the thing that captivated me most was the fluffy white faux-fur edging, which went perfectly with the matching fur on my gorgeous tutu.
"Oh Mummy!" I squealed in girlish delight. "Mummy, I wove them!" I turned to gaze up at her entreatingly. "Pweathe Mummy? Pweathe can we buy thethe oneth?" She chuckled and nodded, and I squealed again in girlish glee.

The crowning glory was a silver-plated tiara encrusted with dozens of sparkling diamantes, which the smiling brunette assistant gently lowered into place over my bouncing halo of curls. I was torn between elation and frustration. I looked like a beautiful little ballerina, but my pulsating clittie beneath the frothy tulle skirts begged to be fondled. I looked like the perfect picture of demure femininity, but my throbbing tool was rock-hard inside my slippery damp diaper. I tore my gaze from my fascinating reflection to stare beseechingly at Mummy, pouting my puffy pink lips in supplication, batting my long black lashes like a proper little girl begging favours from her mother. She laughed and nodded in answer to my unspoken question. "Yes sweetie. We can buy you a pretty tiara, too.” Mummy added, “But we'll have to buy one for Angie, as well."

The blonde assistant returned with a pink tutu in a plastic bag, which she assured Mummy would fit any average three to four-year-old, and a smaller set of pink-and-white wings for Angelica too. Mummy approved of her selections and the staff had the items rung up and my sister's new outfit packed and ready before I had finished twirling in front of the mirror. Mummy let me play in front of my reflection while she selected a smaller bejewelled tiara for my sister, and another as a present for Daisy. She also purchased a glittering diamante-encrusted bracelet for the lucky seven-year-old birthday girl, before walking over to interrupt my narcissistic reverie. "Come on, darling. It's time to take that pretty outfit and those ballet slippers off so the ladies can pack everything into a bag for the trip home. Come on, sweetie. Come with Mummy and we'll change you back into your shortalls."

I reluctantly let her drag me away from my fascinating feminine reflection, asking anxiously; "Can I wear it again thith afternoon, Mummy? Pweathe Mummy? Pweathe?"
"Yes honey," she replied with an indulgent laugh. "I'm sure Angie will want to try on her new tutu this afternoon, too, so you girls can play ballerina dress-ups together for a little while after nap-time. Alright, baby?"
"Yeth Mummy, thank you Mummy," I gratefully mumbled. I didn't care that when she removed my new pink tutu, my hard little clittie was still visibly tenting out the front of my puffy disposable diaper.

A few minutes later I was properly dressed in my white t-shirt and my pink drill shortalls again. For some reason, I felt nervous that I wasn’t wearing a normal pair of baby panties over my diaper. I hoped my disposable wouldn’t leak when I inevitably wet it. After Mummy tied my pink sneakers in place, she led me waddling out to my stroller, still parked at the entrance of the wonderful dancewear shop. My rustling pink disposable already felt a little damp in front, even though my swollen clittie was standing stiffly at attention. The full change bag went on the steel mesh tray under the candy-striped canvas seat, and Mummy hung our bulging bags of shopping on the white rubber stroller handles. She lifted me into the seat and locked me in place with the pink nylon restraining straps, and then gave my dummy teat a generous lick before popping it back in my mouth. I couldn't wipe the smile off my face, and Mummy beamed at how thrilled I looked while she clipped the pink plastic chain to the bib front of my shortalls.

The trip in the elevator back down to the mezzanine level passed in a happy blur, then Mummy wheeled me towards the automatic opening doors of the medical supply shop. She steered me in the direction of the 'Incontinence' section, but before we reached the aisles of oversized diapers and baby panties, we spotted the others gathered at the counter. I could tell from Tammy's splay-legged stance that she had been diapered again, and without thinking, my cupped hands pressed over the bulging front of my shortalls. The gorgeous little blonde looked pleased, despite the way she tried to keep tugging down the front of her too-short babydoll frock. The thick cloth nappy bulging down between her slender thighs made the pink plastic panties covering them poke out a couple of inches below the flared hem of her white cotton dress.

Irene was standing beside her darling diapered daughter, clutching her hand and holding a new vinyl-covered baby bag in the other. Tammy's shiny new change bag was in a cute pink gingham pattern like mine, but the checks were larger. I could see the roomy bag was already packed with a thick fluffy pink nappy and a new pair of shiny pink plastic panties. I spied a folded white bib and huge pink plastic baby bottle sitting inside, too.

One glance at my crimson-faced cousin told me she must have been recently changed into some fresh nappies, too. If anything, the straining crotch of her candy-striped shortalls looked more packed than before. I wondered if the others had been present when Bonnie had her wet nappy changed, and who did the actual changing? The dummy was still lodged in her sullen mouth, and the pink plastic chain was clipped to the high bib front of her juvenile shortalls, like mine. A huge pink vinyl diaper bag sat on the counter, and a familiar brunette saleswoman was busily stuffing it full of some of my Aunty Cath's recent purchases. There was a large bundle of pink nappies on her other side, a massive cardboard carton of adult disposable diapers, a stack of plastic-lined rumba panties and pastel-coloured vinyl pilchers, and a smaller pile of huge plain terry baby bibs. I felt certain Bonnie's new bibbies would soon be edged with lace and embroidered with embarrassing messages, like mine.

The smiling saleswoman pushed the packed diaper bag across the counter top towards my Aunty and said, "The rest of your purchases will be delivered this afternoon, madam. Probably between five and six pm."
"That will be fine," replied Aunty Cath. She graciously added, "Thank you for helping me change my naughty big baby girl's wet nappy, Melanie. I'll remember those little tricks you showed me."
"Oh no trouble at all, madam. It was an absolute pleasure," she pretty twenty-something brunette responded, smiling with professional approval at the humiliated diapered teenager sulkily sucking her dum-dums a few feet away.

"Yoo-hoo! Girls!" Mummy called out. Every face turned towards us as she wheeled me closer. The pretty brunette assistant's smile grew broader when she recognised the tall blonde woman gripping the handles of my stroller. When her eyes dropped to where I reclined in the low canvas seat, I saw a brief flicker of recognition cross her face. I realised I was still clutching my stiffie through my papery disposable, and I belatedly released my grip. For a few seconds, I didn’t know what to do with my hands. Aunty Cath was preoccupied replacing her credit card in her wallet, and the smiling saleswoman stepped out from behind the counter to approach us.
"Hello, madam, my name is Melanie. Didn't I serve you a couple of weeks ago?" She inquired.
"Yes you did, Melanie, and thank you again for all your help," Mummy replied with a sunny smile.

"No problem, madam. We're always happy to help." She looked confused for a moment as she stared at my prettily made-up face. "But didn't you bring your little boy in to buy him a complete layette?"
"Yes, that's right," Mummy smoothly responded. She glanced down pointedly to where I was strapped into my stroller. I ducked away from the pretty assistant’s searching gaze and sucked harder on my dum-dums.
"I remember!” Melanie exclaimed. “You chose pink nappy pins and frilly baby panties for him, and- and-" The pretty brunette broke off and stared fixedly at my rosy-pink cheeks again. "No," she mumbled in wide-eyed disbelief. Melanie slowly covered her gaping mouth with her hand. "It can't be?"

Aunty Cath stepped over and interrupted the shop assistant's epiphany to inform Mummy, "I bought some new nappies and baby panties for your Baby Jennie, too. She needed some more absorbent nappies, and I noticed most of her old baby panties have nasty poo-poo stains around the leg bands now."
"Thanks Cath," Mummy replied, with an appreciative smile for her generous older sister.
"Baby Jennie?" the pretty brunette saleswoman mouthed in disbelief.
"I've given them your home address, and the stuff will be delivered late this afternoon. Is that okay?" Cath asked.
"That's great," responded Mummy with a grateful smile.

"We're heading home now," announced Irene, leading Tammy over to the front of my stroller. The beautiful blonde teen smiled shyly down at me when her mother continued. "But perhaps your little baby girl might like to come over for a play-date with my Baby Tammy one day soon?" she asked my Mummy.
"I'll get your telephone number from Cath and give you a call to arrange a day and time, if you like?" Mummy suggested. Irene nodded before she and Tammy said their goodbyes and headed for the exit.

A few seconds later Mummy turned my stroller around, and Aunty Cath used the baby reins to steer her dejected daughter into position between the white rubber hand grips. Bonnie wheeled me out of the shop only a few metres behind Tammy and her mummy. I kept my eyes glued to the pretty pink baby panties I could see peeping out from under the back of the gorgeous girl's swaying babydoll frock as Tammy waddled ahead of us. I lost sight of her near the entrance to the mall where it was really crowded. Before I knew it, I was being wheeled along the footpath towards Aunty Cath's gleaming black BMW.

To be continued in chapter 30.
Please post a comment here if you are enjoying this lengthy sissy-baby story. I crave some feedback. Any feedback. Pretty please?
Hugs from Baby Jennie

Synopsis; After Isabell and Cath return home with their children, Isabell prepares to punish Baby Bonnie for lying to her and tricking Baby Jennie into wetting her pants and wetting the bed.

Chapter 30. Bad Baby Bonnie

When we returned home, Mummy helped me out of my toddler car seat while Aunty Cath unbuckled Bonnie's seat belt. I noticed April's old red Volvo parked on the street outside our house and assumed my older cousin had to be babysitting Angelica. Cath took my hand as well as Bonnie's, and she led us toddling up the path towards the front door while Mummy loaded our purchases into the pink stroller she removed from the open boot.

April must have heard her mum's BMW coming up the driveway, because she opened the front door when we were still climbing the front steps. "Hi mum, hi girls," she greeted us, smiling broadly at her little sister's awkward waddling gait and her surly embarrassed expression.
After greeting her older daughter, Cath turned to sharply snap at Bonnie; "Put that dummy back in your mouth, little girl! Mummy didn't say you could spit it out yet." She admonished her humiliated daughter like a naughty toddler. “Bad baby! Bad Baby Bonnie!”

A grinning April skipped lightly down the porch steps as we slowly waddled up, and she went to give Mummy a hand with the packages. She looked slim and beautiful as always in a white polo shirt and her favourite navy stretch jeans. Her jet-black hair cascaded past her shoulders in a thick silken wave. April informed my mother, "Angie and I have already eaten our lunch, and I just put her down for her afternoon nap, Aunt Isy."
"Oh thank you, darling. Here, take these, will you?" Mummy handed her the stuffed plastic bags containing our new tutus. The raven-haired beauty's face lit up when she recognised the frothy dance outfits.
“My goodness! Ballet dresses! Your little girls are going to look adorable wearing these!”

Aunty Cath led us straight down the hallway into the kitchen, and I was surprised to see two highchairs sitting beside the bench. After dropping her handbag and Bonnie's change bag on the kitchen bench, Aunty turned me around and then lifted me into my old pink wooden highchair. She smiled down wolfishly at me as she fed the worn white leather waist strap through the crotch piece, and then she stepped behind the chair to buckle me in place. After she made sure I was securely bound, she strode over to where Bonnie stood smirking down at me. I noticed that although Aunty had removed the baby reins, Bonnie was still wearing the gleaming white leather toddler harness with her name emblazoned on the chest strap. "Come on, Baby Bonnie," Aunty Cath sang. "It's time for Mummy to put you in your highchair, too." That remark certainly wiped the smirk from my buxom cousin's perfectly made-up face.

I thought Bonnie would object, but the diapered beauty simply scowled at her mother before stepping over to the larger steel highchair and opening the hinged tray. Even though the pink padded seat was wide enough for a small adult, my voluptuous cousin had difficulty squeezing her heavily-padded hips into the space between the moulded steel arms. As soon as Bonnie settled back in the humiliating highchair, her mother used the pink nylon webbing straps to secure her in place and then lowered the hinged tray. The buxom teen had to press her big boobies flat with her palms to allow the pink-painted tray to drop into position. When it locked in place, her tummy rested hard against the tubular steel rail.

"There we go!" Cath sang in sadistic satisfaction, before she plucked the huge pink dummy from the mortified teen's lips. She unclipped and removed my dummy too, and then opened the kitchen bottom drawer and took out two of my embroidered lace-lavished bibbies. The pink 'Princess Potty-Pants' bibbie was clipped around my neck, while Bonnie had to wear the white one that read, 'Little Miss Poo-poo Pants'. Both terry bibs had elaborate pink lace trimmings around the collar and outside edges. I wondered if the frilly lace framing my face made me look as pretty as my scowling pig-tailed cousin.

I noticed Bonnie's legs were so long, the soles of her gleaming black Maryjanes were resting flat on the floor. I let my pink sneakers swing freely under my highchair seat, enjoying the childish freedom of swinging my legs. Mummy and April returned from upstairs, where they had been unpacking our purchases and laying out our ballet outfits on Mummy's bed for later.

April's smile turned to a broad grin when she spotted her sister bound like a helpless toddler in the pink-painted steel highchair. "I made sandwiches for lunch," she informed the adults. She stepped over to the fridge and removed a covered serving platter. "Chicken, lettuce, avocado and mayonnaise - the girls' favourite."
"Mine too! Thank you so much, April," Mummy responded, smiling in appreciation at her tall raven-haired niece. Even in her platform boots, Mummy was only an inch or two taller than my willowy teenage cousin in her sneakers.

"Good girl, April," Aunty Cath concurred, beaming in approval at her elder child. In her black platform boots with the six-inch heels, she towered over her normally taller daughter. Cath took the china serving plate from April's hands while Mummy produced some colourful flat plastic plates for the babies - 'Barbie' plates, of course. Cath took one sandwich which had been cut into quarters, and arranged the pieces on one brightly-coloured plastic plate as she asked, "April, did anything arrive at home for me this morning?"
"As a mater of fact, a courier turned up with a package for you, just before I left. I had to sign for it, you know? I left it on the stand in the foyer at home, mum."
"Oh good," replied Cath, and her shark-like smile worried me for some reason. She made no further mention of the mysterious package, however. "Here you go, Baby Bonnie," Cath sang, as she placed the full plastic plate on her humiliated daughter's highchair tray. "You can eat your sandwich all by yourself today, just like a big girl."
"Thank you Mummy," Bonnie glumly replied, struggling to sound grateful.

My Mummy placed a cut-up sandwich on a Barbie plate on my tray, too, and straightened my bibbie as she sang, "Eat up, baby girl. My 'Princess Potty-pants' must be starving by now." I was, and I tucked in gratefully. The grown-ups sat at the kitchen bench and munched their sandwiches while April made them fresh cups of tea. "Baby Jennie's bottles are in the cupboard over the fridge, April." Mummy asked, "Could you make up a fresh bottle for my baby? Half-juice, half-water, please honey."
"Baby Bonnie has a new baby bottle in her diaper bag too, April. Make up a bottle for your baby sister as well, will you darling?"
"Sure thing, mum," the tall young woman replied, unsuccessfully trying to conceal her grin.

I had just finished my yummy sandwich when April plonked my full baby bottle on the wide wooden tray and removed my plastic plate. I gratefully thrust the clear silicon nipple between my puffy pink lips and tilted the bottle up. I began to thirstily suck, greedily gulping down the watered-down apple juice. I watched over the bottom of my clear plastic bottle as April approached her sister holding another full pink baby bottle. "Here you go, sweetie," crooned April, as she placed the oversized plastic bottle on the steel highchair tray. "I widened the nipple for you to make it easier to suck out some juice."

"Say thank you to your big sister, Baby Bonnie," Cath cautioned her scowling younger daughter. We could all hear the clear warning tone in Aunty Cath's voice.
"Thank you, April," the surly teenager responded, although she poked at the shameful baby bottle with one fingertip like it was full of poisonous liquid.
“That’s alright, Baby Bonnie,” April replied with a malicious smirk, and she gave her embarrassed little sister a condescending pat on the head before she walked away.

A short time later, I had almost drained my bottle. The women had finished their cups of tea, but Bonnie's full bottle still sat on her highchair tray untouched. I knew she was too embarrassed to suckle like a useless toddler from the teat of a baby bottle while everybody was watching, but I also knew that resistance was useless. My ruthless Aunty Cath always got her way. When Cath realised her disobedient daughter was yet to swallow a drop, she sighed heavily and stood up. She stepped over to where her black leather handbag sat on the bench, and rummaged about inside for a minute. My Aunty took out some pastel-pink, thumbless leather mittens, and my eyes widened when I saw the attached white leather wrist straps used to bind them in place.

Bonnie's huge golden eyes widened in fear when she spotted the humiliating baby mittens. She snatched up her full bottle and wrapped her luscious pink lips around the fat rubber teat, urgently sucking down mouthful after mouthful of watered-down apple juice. "Too late, Baby Bonnie," Aunty Cath cooed mock-sadly, like she was talking to a recalcitrant toddler. "You should have drunk your juice like a big girl when you had the chance. Put down your bottle, baby girl."

The beautiful teenager looked shattered when she carefully placed her almost-full bottle on the steel highchair tray. Her cheeks were flushed red, and she couldn't look at anyone when her mother ordered her; "Hold out those naughty paws, little girl." She slipped the first mitten over Bonnie's right hand, ordering, "Curl up your fingers for mummy, sweetie. That's right, in a fist. Good girl." Cath made sure her daughter's clenched fist was inserted all the way inside the snug leather mitten, before tightly buckling the white strap around her wrist. Moments later the second pink leather mitten had been buckled in place, and then my cruel Aunty produced two small brass padlocks from her handbag. She gave her horrified daughter a thin-lipped smile of satisfaction as she locked the mittens in place, and then she picked up the pink baby bottle full of juice.

"Here you go, baby," Cath crooned, as she deftly inserted the nipple between Bonnie's pouting pink lips. "Let mummy help. Drink up your bottle for mummy like a good little baby girl." Cath raised the base of the pink plastic bottle high in the air and held it there, so her humiliated daughter was forced to tilt her head right back and lift her mortified gaze. Bonnie’s cheeks were blazing and there were tears of shame glistening in her huge golden eyes. I wondered how difficult it was for her to swallow through so much humiliation. Her useless bound fists rested on the highchair tray, her snug leather mittens looking like tiny pink boxing gloves.

As soon as I drained my bottle, a grinning April took the empty plastic vessel from my hands, and Mummy removed the wooden highchair tray. She wiped my face and hands with a warm soapy washer, and I was too tired to complain when I thought she was being too rough. "Come on, Baby Jennie," Mummy urged me, as she popped my dummy in my mouth. "Let's take you upstairs and sit you on the potty before nap time." She unbuckled the retraining strap and helped me climb down, and I wearily clutched her hand as she led me waddling slowly towards the staircase.

"I'm heading home now," announced April, as she collected her keys and her handbag from the kitchen bench. “Goodbye, baby girl. Try and be good.” She leaned down to kiss my freshly-scrubbed cheek, and then she gave my Mummy a parting peck on the cheek, too. "I'll see you later, Aunt Isy."
"Bye, darling," Mummy replied. "And thank you again for babysitting Angelica."
"It was my pleasure. Bye-bye, Baby Bonnie. See you at home, mum - with my new baby sister," April added with a cheeky grin, giving her mother and her surly suckling sister a farewell wave before heading for the front door.

"I'll see you upstairs shortly, Cath," Mummy called over her shoulder to her sister.
"Okay," agreed Aunty Cath. "We'll come up as soon as my naughty baby girl has finished her bottle." A crimson-faced Bonnie continued to noisily slurp from the teat of the titty-bottle her mother held to her writhing lips, swallowing slowly through a throat that had tightened in shame.

There was another surprise waiting for me when I shuffled into the Nursery. Lying on the change table was another pair of pink leather mittens. Mummy lifted me onto my back on the padded vinyl surface and picked up the floppy restraints. "Look, Baby Jennie! Your Aunty Cath bought some pretty pink mittens for you, too. Aren't you a lucky baby girl?” I knew her question was rhetorical, and didn’t bother responding. “Now curl up your fingers for Mummy, sweetie. That's right, good girl," she sang, as she fitted the first soft leather mitten over my clenched fist.

When she had inserted my hand all the way to the end, she tightly cinched the white leather strap around my slender wrist, then gave my bound fist an approving pat. I experimentally tried to uncurl my fist, but the mitten was so snug, I couldn't even open my fingers part way. My other hand was similarly bound a few seconds later, and then Mummy leaned across me to the shelf the over table top. She produced two shiny new brass padlocks, and I watched in stunned horror when she inserted each tiny steel loop through one of the holes in the leather straps around my wrists. There was a shiny metal ring sewn into the side of each mitten, and Mummy locked the wrist strap to the chromed ring, making it impossible for me - or anyone else -to remove the mittens.

Mummy chuckled, "That will keep my naughty baby girl's little handy-pandies safely out of the way, won't it?" I lay back examining my childish new restraints in stunned confusion, while Mummy unclipped the crotch of my shortalls and unfastened the tapes of my soggy disposable diaper. She shook her head and clucked her tongue in dismay as she folded my sodden diaper into a scented nappy sack. She took off my pink sandshoes and frilly socks, sat me up, and stripped me down to my t-shirt. Mummy lifted me down and then ordered, "On your hands and knees, baby girl, and crawl into the bathroom. It's time to sit Baby Jennie on her pot-pot."

At least the mittens protected my hands from the cold tiles, but my bare knees weren't so lucky. As soon as I was kneeling in front of my pink potty-chair, Mummy lifted me up and sat me on the humiliating infant commode. She buckled me in with the waist belt while I waved my mittened paws in front of my face in child-like wonder. There was no way I would be able to play with my clittie with these stupid things locked on my hands. I frowned in frustration.

When Mummy returned to stand in front of me, she folded her arms under her generous bosom and frowned down at me. "I taped that disposable diaper on you only an hour ago, little girl, and it was saturated! Why didn't you tell Mummy you needed to use the potty?"
"I dunno," I softly replied from around the bobbing guard of my dum-dums. Her frown deepened, and I ducked my head in disgrace. "I'm sowwy, Mummy. I gueth I got a bit exthited when we were shopping for my tutu," I tried to explain. "I didn't weally notithe when I wet my nappy."
"Uh-huh," she responded, sounding like she didn't believe a word I said. Mummy sat on the bench seat facing me, primly tugging down the hem of her brown leather miniskirt in a fruitless effort to cover the shiny crotch of her baby-blue nylon panties. "I guess you must like being treated like a helpless little baby girl - because that's how I'm going to keep treating you if you keep behaving like a silly infant."

Before I could reply, we both were distracted by the sound of someone entering the Nursery. "Come on, little girl," we heard Aunty Cath sing to her daughter in that condescending saccharine tone. "Crawl into the bathroom, and you can watch Baby Jennie doing her business on the potty like a big girl." Mummy and I both turned towards the doorway when Bonnie appeared there on her hands and knees. Her face was so red, she looked like she was about to have an aneurysm on the spot.

My buxom cousin was still wearing her pastel-pink mittens, and Aunty Cath had attached the slender leather reins to the rear of her white toddler harness, leading Bonnie around on all fours like a puppy on a leash. She stood behind her kneeling daughter holding the baby reins curled in one fist, smiling down at me sitting on the potty wearing my matching pink leather mittens. "Oh good," Cath cried in delight. "Baby Jennie is wearing her new baby mittens, too!" She addressed my mother when she asked, "Do they fit her alright?"
"A perfect fit," confirmed Mummy, with a shark-like smile that was frightening reminiscent of her domineering big sister's.

"Now you watch Baby Jennie carefully, Baby Bonnie," Cath urged her crimson-cheeked daughter in cloying baby-talk. "Next month - provided you learn to behave - mummy will buy you a special big potty all of your very own, and we can potty-train my naughty big baby girl all over again. Won't that be fun?" Bonnie's horrified expression told me she would rather gargle razor blades, but she didn't bother replying and simply sucked harder on the teat of her dum-dums. Everyone's eyes turned in my direction when they all heard the sound of my wee-wees noisily splashing against the bottom of my pink plastic potty.

"Good girl!" Mummy exclaimed, her face lighting up when she beamed down at me.
"Ooo! Is Baby Jennie doing a wee-wee in her pot-pot?" Aunty Cath inquired in that nauseating sing-song tone, with a broad condescending smile for me. I didn't bother replying. I didn't think she expected me to respond, anyway. Who holds a conversation with a baby? But my eyes remained glued on the spot where Bonnie was kneeling on all fours in the doorway.

My humiliated cousin still had the embarrassing 'Little Miss Poo-poo Pants' bibbie hanging around her neck, and the huge pink dummy was clamped between her pouting lips. She kept her blushing face tilted down and her tear-filled eyes fixed on the white tiles between her pink leather mittens. I watched her as she discretely spread her knees a little wider. She arched her back slightly, waggled her big padded bum, and then went still as a statue. I instinctively knew she was wetting her nappy while I was doing my wetties in my potty. I remembered my almost-uncontrollable desire to wet whenever I heard the sound of someone else going pee-pee.

"Try and do a poo-poos on the potty for Mummy too, baby girl," Mummy sang to me in encouragement, as the sound of my stream gradually dwindled to a halt. "Try hard for Mummy, Baby Jennie." She watched as I obediently held my breath and pushed down with my tummy muscles, but I couldn't feel anything happening down there. I must have farted though, because a noxious smell soon drifted up from between my splayed thighs.
"Come on, Baby Bonnie," Cath urged her pink-cheeked daughter, giving the baby reins a firm tug away from the bathroom. "Crawl over to the change table and climb up so mummy can check your nap-nap, sweetie." Even though I was sure Bonnie hadn't finished wetting, she obediently turned around and crawled out of sight towards the change table.

Mummy waited patiently beside me for a few more minutes, and then she climbed to her feet and stepped over to the toilet. I marvelled at how tall she looked in her brown platform boots, before she leaned down to unroll a handful of toilet tissue to wipe my bits. "Lean back, baby, so Mummy can wipe your clittie," she sang to me with a pleased smile. She crouched in front of me and loudly sniffed the rank air as she gently wiped the end of my dripping clittie. "Did you do a poo-poo, too, baby girl?" I was about to deny it when she spread my thighs wider and peered between my legs, and she squealed in excitement. "You did, too! You did another poo-poo in your pot-pot! Oh good girl, Baby Jennie! That's the second time today! What a clever little potty-princess! Mummy might just be able to potty-train you, after all!"

She made me stand up and crouch forward so she could wipe my dirty back door, and I gazed down between my splayed thighs into my pink potty. Sure enough, there were two small mud-brown turds sitting in the middle of a shallow amber pool of urine. I couldn't remember feeling anything come out of my poo-poo hole, but I was pleased that Mummy seemed so thrilled by my successful bowel movement. After carefully wiping my messy freckle clean, she soaped up a washcloth under a running stream of warm water from the vanity faucet, and she showered me with praise as she thoroughly cleaned my clittie, ball sack and botty-hole.

After towelling dry my bottom and bits, Mummy insisted with a pleased smile, "Come on, Baby Jennie," while holding out her hand for mine. I willingly clutched her large hand and let her lead me toddling out to the Nursery, just as Aunty Cath was helping Bonnie clamber down from the change table. "Oh good," Mummy said with a twinkling smile. "Perfect timing!" I barely heard a word she said. My seventeen-year-old cousin was still wearing her candy-striped shortalls, but she was naked from the waist down. Her mother had tucked the dangling flaps of Bonnie's shortalls under the front and rear straps of her white toddler harness, exposing her crotch to our view. Even though Bonnie always sunbaked topless, it was obvious she was more modest when it came to removing her bikini bottom, even beside her family’s backyard pool.

I couldn't help staring at the dark crease of her feminine opening formed by the baby-smooth folds of her delicate pink nether lips. Her pale pubic mound was completely hairless, just like my baby sister's, except her puffy slit was so much longer. My voluptuous teenage cousin noticed the direction of my avid gaze and her glistening golden eyes dropped to the floor in shame. Bonnie pressed her plump womanly thighs together and used her pink mittens to clumsily cover her baby-smooth sex. I noticed she was still wearing her pretty anklet socks, but her mummy had removed her black patent Maryjanes.

When my Mummy lifted me onto the recently-vacated change table, the pink vinyl top was still warm from Bonnie’s lush body. Aunty Cath used the white leather baby reins to steer her cowed daughter into the far corner of the Nursery. "This is where naughty little girls belong,” Cath stated firmly. “Stick your nose in that corner, Baby Bonnie," my strict Aunty sternly ordered, and my tall cousin actually looked grateful to hide her blushing red face from our view. When she pressed her nose into the juncture of the walls, her big round white botty poked out temptingly at us, and I noticed there was already a circular purple bruise in the centre of each plump wobbling cheek - evidence of her prior discipline session with Aunty Cath.

In minutes my Mummy had me powdered all over and pinned into a comfy clean nappy. Fresh pink plastic pilchers were drawn over the top, but then Mummy produced another pair of crackling baby panties from the shelf under the change table. They were very similar to Bonnie's puffy Strawberry Shortcake panties, except these ones had bright cartoon drawings of 'Sesame Street' characters all over them. They were very colourful and looked really cute, but I heard an odd metallic rattling sound when Mummy opened wide the elasticised waistband.

"Lift those little footsies and ballerina toesies," cooed Mummy, and she worked the puffy plastic panties over my pointed pink-painted toes. "Now footsies down and lift that little bot-bot for Mummy." She tugged the new baby panties over my huge diaper package, and then urged, “Turn over onto your tummy, little girl.” I obediently rolled onto my front, and Mummy tugged at the waistband of my thick baby panties in the rear. When I heard that dull metallic rattle again, I realised these puffy PVC panties had a chain looped through the waistband, like Bonnie's. Mummy pulled the links tight and when I heard that distinct 'snick' of a padlock closing, I knew I had been locked into my humiliating plastic panties, too.

“There,” Mummy grunted in satisfaction, and she gave the snug waistband a tug to make sure the chain was tightly secured. There was no way I could get my hands inside my baby panties, even if she hadn't locked the mittens on me. After tucking the tight elasticised leg bands safely under the bulky crotch of my fluffy nappy, Mummy dressed me in one of my filmy pink cotton nighties. This one had a lace-edged V-neck, with a tiny white satin bow in the middle, and she clipped the pink plastic chain of my pacifier beside the bow. She lifted me into her arms and carried me over to my crib, and as soon as she had me settled on my back with my pink teddy, she raised the high side rail until it locked into place.

I clumsily clutched Teddy with my pink mittens and rolled onto my side, and I peered through the wide-spaced steel bars as Mummy placed the high-backed wooden chair facing the centre of the room. From the way she sat, I don't think Mummy cared that she was exposing the shiny crotch of her pretty blue panties. I admired the way the tight nylon material cupped her proud pudenda. She patted her muscular brown thighs with both palms in invitation, and gave Cath a nod to indicate she was ready. Aunty Cath turned her daughter around, and Bonnie kept her eyes on the floor while her mummy unlocked her left mitten. I thought she was going to free her daughter's hands - and I think for one moment, so did Bonnie - but Cath then locked the ring sewn into the side of the mitten to the D-ring at the front of her white toddler harness. The left wrist was shackled to the left D-ring on one side of her humiliating bibbie, and then her right arm was locked to the right D-ring. An alarmed Bonnie waved her bound pink mittens in front of her wobbling bosom in useless protest.

Aunty Cath took her distracted daughter by the shoulders and steered her over to where Mummy sat waiting. I watched her every hesitant step, my eyes glued to the exposed hairless kitten that she had no hope of concealing now. The buxom, long-legged teen found herself face-down over her Aunt Isabell's broad lap before she knew it, and the women rearranged the wriggling teen until her long chestnut pigtails were brushing the floor and her curvaceous white derriere was perched high in the air.

From my position in my crib, I could see right between my jiggling cousin's meaty brown thighs, and I realised she was completely fur-free everywhere down there! Her beautiful round buttocks clenched and relaxed every few seconds, unintentionally granting me momentary glimpses of her hairless pinky-brown freckle, too. Mummy used her left hand to stabilise her niece's right hip, preventing the writhing girl from rolling off her lap. Aunty Cath unclipped the baby reins from the rear of Bonnie's white leather toddler harness, and after rolling them up, she dropped them in my cousin's new pink diaper bag. Then Cath stepped over to the change table and collected the familiar wooden punishment paddle from the shelf above.

"Baby Bonnie?" Mummy inquired, giving the girl's creamy plump left cheek a quick, hard, bare-handed slap to gain her attention. SMACK! "Do you know why you're being punished, little girl?"
My cousin's voice sounded close to tears when she tremulously replied, "Yes, Aunt Isy."
"Tell me. Tell your mummy and me what you did that was so naughty," Mummy prompted, gently patting Bonnie’s other curvaceous cheek with her right hand, and watching the red handprint forming on the left cheek.
"I- I tricked Baby Jennie into w-wetting the bed and w-w-wetting her panties," Bonnie stammered in response, and then she sniffled loudly. I couldn't see my cousin's face, but it sounded like she was already beginning to cry.

SMACK! I think everyone in the room jumped when Mummy's hard hand loudly spanked Bonnie's right bum cheek, and my cousin cried out in shock. Now both big white buttocks bore a fresh red imprint of Mummy's broad palm. I could even see the distinct impression of the individual fingermarks forming. "That's right," Mummy sang approvingly. "What a clever little girl for remembering." SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Her broad palm landed with an astonishingly loud noise again and again, alternating from cheek to cheek. To my surprise Bonnie immediately started to whimper and moan. Her huge round buttocks jiggled and danced before my eyes with each blow, and her long legs lashed out in useless protest. Every time her feet thrashed about, her plump thighs parted, but I don't think my cousin cared that I could see right into the steamy pink core of her naked womanhood. Her shoulders began to shake and I heard her begin to sob. A few moments later my seventeen-year-old cousin started bawling like a battered baby.

"Waah! Waaah! Waaahhh!" Bonnie wailed, thrashing her legs and trying to rip her bound hands free of the humiliating mittens and her sturdy leather toddler harness. Her bonds were unbreakable and the blows continued to rain down. Mummy must have hand-spanked her squirming niece’s jiggling buttocks about twenty or thirty times before she halted. The normally white expanse of feminine flesh was now fiery-red all over, from the crease below her shivering buttocks all the way to the top of her delectable crack. Bonnie continued to ineffectually thrash about over her Aunt's lap for a few seconds after the spanking ceased, but when the crying teen realised the blows had stopped falling, her whole body went limp. Her white sock toes brushed the floor closest to me, while her long chestnut pigtails drooped onto the tear-dampened carpet on the other side of Mummy's lap. "I'm sorry Aunty Isy, I'm sorry," she fervently apologised between rasping gasps for air, and then she broke down into heartfelt sobbing once more.

"I'm sure you are," muttered Mummy, her face flushed with a combination of effort and anger. She shifted in the upright wooden chair, rearranging the sniffling girl over her lap so that her glowing red derriere was poised high in the air again. "What you did to my poor little baby was very bad. Wasn't it, Bonnie?"
"Yes Aunty Isy," Bonnie snivelled in reply. “I was bad,” she tearfully confessed. She swiped at the tears streaming down her forehead with one of her soft leather mittens, and used the back of the other mitten to wipe her snotty nose.
"I trusted you to look after my sissy baby like a big girl, but you couldn't do it. Could you?"
"No Aunty Isy," Bonnie dismally replied, gulping back another sob.
"No, you're not a big girl. You're still just a baby yourself. Aren't you, Baby Bonnie?"
"Yes Aunty Isy, I'm still just a baby," she admitted, her tiny voice thick with shame. I saw my Aunty Cath nodding in grim-faced agreement.

"Yes, that's right. You're still just a baby. And were you a good baby for Aunty Isy?" Mummy prompted, and she held out her right hand to Cath. Without a word, my Aunty handed her sister the cruel wooden punishment paddle, passing it to her handle-first like a theatre nurse handing medical instruments to a waiting surgeon.
"No Aunty Isy," Bonnie shakily confessed, and I could hear her tears beginning to fall again. At the same time, I think Bonnie and I realised that Mummy was directing her responses - the same way that my sadistic cousin steered my replies when she was punishing me over her lap. I think we both simultaneously realised where this was heading, as Bonnie drew in a deep shuddering breath and wailed in remorse, "I was a bad baby, Aunty Isy!" WHACK! "Aieee! Waaaahhhh!" Bonnie screamed in anguish when the hard paddle came slamming down across both trembling red buttocks, and her head bucked into the air as her shackled fists scrabbled for release. But she was bound too securely in her infantile restraints, and she was powerless in the face of the grown-ups' anger.

"That's right. You're a bad little baby girl. Aren't you?" Mummy forcefully insisted. WHACK!
"Ow! Waaah! Yes Aunty! Waaahhh! I'm a bad little baby girl!"
"Yes you are! I like my bad little babies to know exactly why they are being punished, before we continue." WHACK! "What are you?"
"Oww! Waaah! I'm a bad little baby girl!" WHACK! "Oww! Waaah! I'm sorry, Aunty Isy!" WHACK! "Aieee! Waah! I'm sorry!" WHACK! "Waaahh! No, no!" WHACK! WHACK! "Waaahhh! P-p-please- Waaahhhh!" WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! Bonnie squealed and bucked and begged for mercy - to no avail. The harsh wooden paddle slammed down on her bobbing bottom again and again, until her crimson cheeks began to turn purple. I didn't realise Mummy was simply trying to match the force and tempo of the blows she had observed on the tape the girls made, when Bonnie had been punishing me in the bathroom last week. All I knew was that Mummy was beating my poor cousin with unparalleled savagery, and I was horrified by the spectacle of such violence. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

Suddenly I found myself on my feet, my soft leather mittens scrabbling at the pink-painted cot bars as I forced my face between the cold steel rails. "Thtop it! Thtop it, pweathe Mummy?" I screamed around the teat of my dum-dums, before spitting it out in agitation. "Mummy, pweathe thtop hitting her?" The adults stared at me in confusion when they heard my heartrending pleas for clemency, and then I burst into loud sobs as well. Aunty Cath sniggered and her full red lips twisted in a callous sneer, but the paddle clenched in Mummy's fist thankfully stopped crashing down on Bonnie's bouncing rear end. My battered cousin continued to cry and wail, although her voluptuous body now lay limp across Mummy's broad lap.

"What's wrong, Baby Jennie?" Mummy breathlessly demanded over my cousin's wracking sobs, her flushed red face looking confused.
"Pweathe, Mummy? Pweathe don't punish her any more?" I begged, the tears rolling down my cheeks.
"But baby? Your wicked cousin Bonnie is one of the main reasons that you ended up wearing nappies and being treated like a baby again," Mummy tried to explain.
"I don't care!" I shrieked. "Jutht don't hit her any more, pweathe Mummy? Pweathe?" I realised I was wetting my nappy, but this didn't seem the right time to announce the fact.

Aunty Cath looked like she was about to tell my mother to ignore my tearful protestations. Before she could speak, Mummy rolled Bonnie off her lap onto the Nursery carpet. My sobbing cousin lay on her side facing away from me and curled into a shivering ball, trying to cover her teary red face with her pink leather mittens. Her plump quivering bottom was facing me, and I imagined I could feel the heat emanating from those blazing crimson cheeks from where I was standing in my crib. Mummy tossed the wooden paddle on the change table, and then walked over to the side of my steel crib to wipe away my tears with the ball of her thumb. "What's wrong, precious?" Mummy softly demanded. "Don't you want to see Bonnie being punished for what she did to you?"
"No Mummy," I tearfully replied. "Anyway, it'th not all her fault."
"What do you mean, baby?" Mummy inquired, and she wiped my face dry with a handy terry bibbie.

I sniffled heavily and couldn't look at her beautiful flushed face when I replied, "You know I've alwayth been a thithy panty-wetter, Mummy. I alwayth wanted to be a wittle girl, deep down. I jutht never had the couwage to tell you."
"But Mummy knew all along, didn't she sweetie?" I nodded and gave her a grateful smile when she pushed my dummy teat back between my trembling lips. "Suck your dum-dums, baby girl," she cooed. "You know that always makes you feel better." She reached behind me and clipped the bib around my neck, then straightened it over my heaving bosom.

"Mummy?" I hesitantly ventured, as I peeped down at the embroidery. This one read, ‘Mummy’s Little Nappy Wetter.’
"Yes, Baby Jennie?"
"Mummy, I think I wet my nappy a wittle when I got all upthet," I timidly confessed, and her olive-green eyes widened. My heart began to race, but then she gave me a forgiving smile.

"That's okay, baby girl. You’re a good girl for telling Mummy. Even big girls sometimes wet their pants a little when they get really upset," Mummy kindly informed me, fondly patting my cheek. “Don’t worry. Your nappy is thick enough to keep you safe until I get you up after your nap.”
"You may have finished spanking my wicked baby girl," Aunty Cath interrupted, with a sour expression on her harsh but beautiful face, "but her punishment is far from over! Not by a long way! Bonnie is still going to spend the next four weeks in nappies and baby clothes, being treated like a naughty two-year-old. Just you wait and see."

Mummy ignored her cruel sister's heartless pronouncement as she unlocked and lowered the heavy steel side rail. As soon as the crib side dropped out of the way, she reached in, gathered me into her arms and hugged me warmly. "I love you, baby girl," Mummy whispered in my ear, and my heart soared inside my heaving breast. "Of all your feminine qualities, I think I love your compassion the most.” She patted my warm wet bottom affectionately, her palm making that reassuring ‘thwack-thwack-thwack’ sound on my thick baby panties. “You really do make a wonderful, caring little girl." Mummy made sure I had stopped crying and wiped my face with my bibbie again, and I managed a tentative smile when she gently tweaked my nose. "Lie down, baby," she urged me, smiling warmly at me in return. "I'm sure you're a little bit over-emotional because you're all tuckered out after your busy morning at the hairdressing salon, and our shopping trip. Lie down and close your eyes, sweetie. Suck your dum-dums like a good baby girl. You'll find the world always looks a better place after a good nap."

I settled back on the crackling crib mattress, sucking noisily on my dum-dums and hugging the teddy Mummy lovingly placed in my arms. She raised the steel side rail and locked it in place once more. Even with my eyes drifting closed, I could hear Aunty Cath as she helped her sniffling daughter to clumsily clamber up onto the change table. "I want you face-down first, baby girl," Cath crisply ordered her well-chastised child. My Aunty had brought Bonnie's change bag upstairs, and she rummaged about inside the huge vinyl-covered bag for a minute, while her bound daughter awkwardly struggled to roll over.

When I heard the noise of a hand being inserted into a latex glove, my eyes popped open and I turned my face towards the familiar menacing sound. Aunty Cath placed a waxy bullet-shaped object the size of her little finger on the shelf above the change table, and took down the tub of Vaseline. She smeared a little of the greasy gel on her gloved middle finger, and then commented; "I notice you haven't had a bowel motion since I put you in nappies yesterday afternoon, baby girl. Maybe my special baby girl is a little bit constipated? Hmm?"

Bonnie squeaked in consternation when Cath spread her bruised red botty cheeks apart with the fingers of her free hand, but she squealed in alarm when her mother's thick lubricated finger forced entrance to her puckered rectum. "Oh no, Mummy! Please no? Not that?"
"Shhh, baby, shhh," Cath calmly soothed her distraught daughter. She wiggled her greasy gloved finger in and out of the protesting teenager’s clenching botty-hole. "Mummy needs to lubricate your poo-poo hole a bit first," she explained, as if it made any difference. “Ooo! I can feel lots of poo-poos up there, little girl!”

She withdrew her brown-stained diddling digit, picked up the suppository from the shelf, and smoothly forced the waxy bullet inside her wriggling child's slippery anus. Bonnie gave another shriek when Cath then inserted her longest finger all the way inside her bottom again, pushing the glycerine suppository as far inside the humiliated girl's packed bowel as possible. By the time my Aunty removed her finger and disposed of the dirty latex glove, Bonnie was a shivering, snivelling wreck once more.

Cath gave her daughter’s trembling red buttocks a crisp smack and then briskly ordered, "Roll over, Baby Bonnie. Mummy needs to pin you into a nappy before my little girl has a nasty accident." My teary cousin glanced my way when she clumsily turned over, her face flaming with embarrassment. I gave her a quick sympathetic smile before rolling onto my back and looking the other way. I knew Bonnie didn't want me watching while her mummy diapered her, so I turned my face away. I heard Aunty Cath’s quietly muttered instructions to "lift that bottom," and "down, baby," and I could smell the pleasantly-perfumed talc when Aunty generously powdered her big baby girl’s front and back bottoms. There was the familiar loud 'snick' of the stainless-steel nappy pins being clasped - two each side this time, just like mine - and the noisy rustling of the thick plastic panties when Aunty Cath fed them over her daughter's legs and up over her huge diaper.

Finally Bonnie had to be helped down from the change table, clumsy because her mittens were still buckled around her wrists and her arms locked to the front of her toddler harness. The rattling waist chain in her baby panties was drawn tight, and I heard the tiny brass padlock close with sharp finality. I recognised the familiar sound of the crotch pieces of Bonnie's pink-and-white striped shortalls being fastened, and the metallic 'clink' of the baby rein clips being attached to her toddler harness, too.

By the time Aunty Cath led my humiliated cousin waddling slowly out of the Nursery I was already starting to drift. My eyelids felt impossibly heavy and I could hardly keep my eyes open. Mummy softly bid me, “Sleep tight, sweetie,” before she disappeared carrying my full nappy bucket. My dreams that afternoon were filled with images of me wearing my gorgeous pink tutu, dancing before a crowd of adoring fans, before being led off the stage by my beautiful assistants to have my drenched diaper changed before my next performance.

To be continued in chapter 31.
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Baby Jennie

Synopsis. Baby Jennie plays ballerina dress-up with her sister Angelica, and learns her fate if she wets her diaper at the party on Sunday. Connie comes over to babysit Baby Jennie and Angelica while their mother Isabell goes out with Ellen Green from next door to discuss Baby Jennie attending Daisy's Fairy Princess party tomorrow.

Chapter 31. “You’re Just a Baby.”

I was dragged from my wonderful ballerina fantasies when my dummy teat was roughly plucked from my lips. I sucked empty air for a few unsatisfying seconds before a spurting rubbery nipple was pressed to my pursed pink lips. As I swallowed a tasty mouthful of spearmint-flavoured water, I hazily opened my eyes. Angie was standing by the side of my crib, leaning through the steel bars and holding the end of my baby bottle for me. "Drink up, Baby Jennie," my grinning sister cooed to me like I was her own precious infant. "Mummy wants you to finish this bottle before she gets you up, and then she can dress you in your ballet tutu and wings, too." I examined Angie's shiny new outfit as I struggled to full wakefulness. I was barely aware of the soothing warm flow of wee-wees over my tummy as I freely wet my already-damp nappy.

My beaming sister was dressed in her new baby-pink tutu with the frothy, wide-flared, darker-pink tulle skirts. She had a pair of modest wings fastened across her back made from pink and white dyed silk stretched tautly over a thin wire frame. A sprinkling of silver glitter made them sparkle like real fairy wings. They rose half-way up to the back of her head, and she was wearing a brilliant bejewelled tiara on her neatly-brushed platinum locks. When she jiggled from foot to foot in excitement, her translucent wings fluttered behind her like the wings of a gigantic butterfly. I marvelled at how realistic they looked. My radiant sister looked like a beautiful Fairy Princess, although I couldn't see what she was wearing on her feet.

"Hurry up, baby," Angie impatiently urged me. “Don't you want to dress up like a beautiful Fairy Princess, too?" I nodded as I sucked down another mouthful, my excitable clittie stiffening inside the comforting warm folds of my soggy nappy. Of course I wanted to wear my gorgeous new ballerina outfit! Plus all the wonderful accessories… Angie grew bored before I drained half my huge pink baby bottle, and she frowned dismissively and abruptly dropped the end. "Hold your own bottle like a big girl, baby," she carelessly ordered before turning away.

She stepped back to admire her reflection in the mirror behind the open wardrobe door. She hopped up and down to make her frothy flared skirts bounce and sway attractively, and then attempted to twirl while keeping her wide blue eyes on her fascinating reflection. Angie was wearing a pair of pink scuffs over her white anklet socks, so she couldn’t rise on the points of her toes properly. I felt a twinge of malicious satisfaction when I noted how clumsy and awkward she looked, especially when compared with the way I could daintily pirouette. I couldn't wait to put on my beautiful fur-trimmed tutu and my stunning wings and show off for her.

I discretely pressed the warm wet front of my nappy over my stiffening clittie and went to pick up my bottle. That's when I realised I was still wearing the pink leather baby mittens. My curled fists were so clumsy, I had to use both hands to awkwardly clutch my sloshing bottle and steer the dripping nipple between my lips. A few drops squirted onto my face and splashed onto my bibbie, and I was momentarily grateful for the infantile napkin that protected my pretty baby doll nightgown. I sucked hard on the spurting teat, trying to drain the contents as quickly as possible, hoping that Mummy would remove the humiliating mittens when she let me up from my afternoon nap.

I’d almost finished my bottle by the time Mummy strolled into the Nursery. Although she was wearing the same gleaming white satin blouse from this morning, she had changed out of her brown leather miniskirt and towering platform boots. She looked much less menacing in a pair of faded denim jeans and white sneakers. Mummy smiled down indulgently at Angie admiring her reflection in front of the mirror, and then stepped over to me and leaned her elbows on the top rail of my crib.

"Are we almost finished our bottle? What a good little baby girl!" Mummy sang to me in syrupy encouragement. "Let me check that nappy, sweetheart." She reached between the steel bars and wriggled two fingers under the tight elastic leg bands of both pairs of baby panties, and her olive-green eyes grew wider. “My goodness, Baby Jennie! I know you did a wee-wee before your nap, but how many times did you wet in your sleep? This nap-nap is saturated, little girl!” I knew she didn’t really expect a reply. After I sucked down the last few drops of water, she took the empty bottle from my hands and placed it on top of the nearby dresser. She unlocked the heavy side rail and lowered it out of the way, then helped me to clumsily climb down from my crib.

Mummy took my mittened fist in her hand and led me waddling wetly towards the change table, where she lifted me onto the soft padded vinyl surface onto my tummy. She unlocked the chain in the small of my back securing my outer baby panties, and loosened the waistband before sliding them down my legs and away. She rolled me onto my back and went through the familiar routine of undressing me and wiping me clean with the minimum of instructions, and then she lifted me down. “Come on, baby girl. It’s time for Mummy to sit you on the potty again.”

She removed my stained ‘Mummy’s Little Nappy Wetter’ bibbie and escorted me into the bathroom. She eased me backwards onto the low pink seat and buckled me in. While I sat there sucking my dummy, she returned to the Nursery to tidy up a bit. She left me alone for about ten minutes, I guess. When she returned my potty was still empty. I had saturated my nappy while I slept, and wet again just before she let me out of my crib. I felt sure I wouldn’t need to go again any time soon. I didn’t bother trying to do a poo-poo, as I was pretty certain my bowels were empty, too. Mummy seemed disappointed by my lack of performance, but she merely frowned and sadly shook her head when she wiped clean my damp bottom and bits with a warm soapy washer.

Back on the change table, I happily lifted my bum when she slid one of my puffy pink disposable diapers underneath me. “You can wear a disposable this afternoon, sweetie, while you play ballerina dress-ups with Angie,” Mummy informed me, much to my delight. She rubbed some sweetly-perfumed baby powder over my bottom and around my ball sack, and even gave my limp clittie a couple of quick loving squeezes with her powdery fist. My sensitive tool instantly swelled with excitement, but Mummy merely smirked at my uncontrollable arousal. She wiped her hands clean with a baby wipe before tightly taping the rustling diaper over my loins. She slid some transparent pink plastic panties over my feet and pulled them up over my diaper. Mummy then carefully tucked the snug elastic leg bands under the crotch of my disposable, as if she didn’t trust the puffy gel-filled diaper to contain my flow. She slid the same socks on my feet that I’d been wearing before nap-time; the white ones with the wide pink lace frills dancing around my ankles.

Mummy helped me climb down from the change table. When I wobbled unsteadily after she released me, she grabbed one wrist to stabilise me. “Oops! Careful, sweetie!” She made me clumsily wrap both mittened hands around the nearest tubular steel leg of the table for support. “Hang on to the leg of your change table, baby girl,” she firmly insisted, talking down to me like I was a useless infant. When she was sure I was safe, Mummy stepped into the walk-in closet. She returned holding up the hanger bearing my shiny baby-pink tutu. It looked even more beautiful than when I tried it on in the fabulous dance-wear boutique. The mere sight of the gorgeous frothy creation had the usual predictable effect on me. My excitable clittie was already primed by Mummy’s earlier intimate handling. When she spread wide the top of the shimmering tutu bodice and held it down and open for me to step inside, my tiny tool swelled to full hardness inside the papery folds of my puffy pink disposable diaper.

I shuddered uncontrollably in arousal when Mummy drew the satiny lycra bodice over my trembling torso, and my stiff clittie pounded with excitement when she pulled the stretchy panty crotch up snugly between my legs. She straightened the fur-covered straps over my narrow shoulders and adjusted the frothy tulle layers around my padded hips, pausing momentarily to flip my bobbing skirts up over my tummy. Mummy ducked her head down to check if my tell-tale stiffie was tenting out the shiny pink front of my leotard panties - it was - and then she patted my skirts back into place and looked at my innocent girlish expression with a sly knowing smile.

Mummy returned to the walk-in wardrobe to collect my fairy wings and my new silver tiara. In minutes the lightweight pink-and-white silk wings were buckled around my shoulders, and I waited impatiently while Mummy fixed the comb ends of my glittering bejewelled tiara into my curly platinum locks. I smiled in delight at my beautiful reflection in the mirror, but then Mummy whisked me off my feet. She plonked me on my bottom on the padded change table again in a sibilant swirl of swishing tulle. She laced my gleaming pink ballet slippers in place around my ankles, and when she lifted me down, I rose up on my tippy-toes and twirled happily in front of the mirror beside my beaming sister.

“Now we both look like Fairy Princesses!” Angelica squealed excitedly.
“Yeth we do!” I joyfully agreed, beaming with unbridled happiness.
Mummy smiled proudly and nodded in approval, commenting; “You both look gorgeous! You’re my two beautiful little ballerinas.” I almost swooned with joy at Mummy’s words of praise. This was a moment I’d fantasised about hundreds of times while I lay in bed playing with my clittie, and here I was - living it! When I tried to caress the fluffy tulle layers rustling around my hips, I realized the stupid leather baby mittens were still buckled around my wrists.

I held up my hands entreatingly towards my mother, pleading, “Pweathe Mummy? Pweathe can you take off my mittenth?”
Mummy frowned down at me and shook her head sorrowfully. “No, Baby Jennie. Mummy knows what her naughty little girl secretly likes to get up to when she’s dressed in her pretty ballet tutu.” I felt my cheeks flush warmly with a combination of guilt and shame, worried how much she really knew. “You can keep your baby mittens on while you play pretty ballerina dress-ups with your big sister,” Mummy informed me. She took me by one shackled wrist and then held out her other hand to my sister. “Come on Angie. Come with Mummy downstairs, and you pretty ballerinas can play in the sunroom in your gorgeous new outfits for a little while. Mind you don’t get them dirty, though. We want to keep them nice for the big party tomorrow.”

As soon as we reached the bottom of the staircase, Angie gaily skipped away from us in the direction of the sunroom, her frothy pink skirts flying. Mummy led me waddling along behind my sister at a more sedate pace, but when we reached the door to the sunroom, she released my wrist. I couldn’t help myself. I bounded into the room and skipped about like an excited little girl, loving the way my gorgeous tulle skirts swished and swirled around me. I went into first position and performed a competent plie, and then stretched my arms over my head and rose up on my points.

Mummy smiled at my practised feminine movements, and she nodded in what I hoped was approval. “Girls? Call me if you need to use the potty,” she reminded us. “You’ll probably have a bit of difficulty getting out of those tutus by yourselves. Alright, girls?” Mummy smiled and nodded again when we both chorused assent, before she disappeared into the kitchen. When I tried to delicately place my fingertips together over my head, my stupid mittens were in the way. Despite my feelings of pleasure at being so beautifully dressed, I frowned momentarily. I twirled around in a neat pirouette and was thrilled by the envious expression on my sister’s face while she watched me.

I squealed in alarm when she unexpectedly pushed me in the tummy with both hands. I lost my balance and tumbled backwards onto the carpet on my frothy ruffle-covered bottom. Thank goodness I had some extra padding down there! I gazed up at here in astonishment, but her gleeful expression vanished when she saw the vengeful look on my face. She shrieked, turned and ran, while I clumsily clambered to my feet. I set off in giggling pursuit and chased her round and round the sunroom, admiring the multiple frothy layers of pink lace ruffles decorating her bouncing little bottom. We ran around squealing like excited little fairies for a minute or two until I finally caught her in my arms.

We fell to the floor in a fit of giggles, collapsing in a swirling frothy mass of pink and white tulle. I realised even though I had captured Angie, I couldn’t really do anything to her with the awkward leather mittens buckled over my fists, so I let her go. When we had mostly recovered our breath, I helped Angie to her feet and started showing her some of the simpler ballet exercises Sally had taught me. We skipped, twirled, and hopped around the sunroom to make our beautiful fairy wings flap realistically, until our faces were red and we were practically exhausted from giggling.

Mummy walked into the sunroom carrying a sippy-cup for Angie, a baby bottle full of watered-down juice for me, and a clean white terry bib tucked under her armpit. She handed the purple cup to Angelica, but I had to wait until my frilly bibbie was safely clipped around my neck before she would hand me my huge pink bottle. I awkwardly grasped the lace-trimmed bottom edge of my bibbie between my mittens and read upside-down the embroidered legend, ‘Mummy’s Precious Potty Princess.’ Even though my hands were clumsy because of the pink leather mittens, Mummy insisted I try to hold my own bottle like a big girl. She sat me down and made sure I was safely holding my bottle first, and then she helped me clumsily steer the dripping nipple towards my mouth.

While I thrust the clear silicon teat between my lips and started gratefully suckling, Mummy crouched in front of me and raised the front of my shimmering pink and white tulle skirts with one hand. She slipped her other fingers inside the leg bands of my leotard and my baby panties, worming her way inside the plastic shell of my diaper. She probed the crotch of my puffy pink disposable, and a pleased smile lit up her face when she found me not only dry, but flaccid, too. “Good girl, Baby Jennie,” she praised me as she stood erect. I beamed up at her from around the gurgling teat of my bottle. She didn’t bother checking Angie’s pull-up, and she was returning to the kitchen when the telephone rang.

Mummy changed direction and headed for the hallway, and picked up the portable phone sitting in the cradle on the telephone table. I continued to thirstily suckle from my titty-bottle and listened more attentively when I heard Mummy say, “Oh hello, Cath. How is your naughty baby girl doing?” She sat down in the padded chair next to the telephone table, as if settling in for a lengthy chat. After listening for a few minutes, Mummy laughed harshly and commented, “Bonnie filled her nappy during her afternoon nap then? That must have made nap-time particularly unpleasant for her.” She didn’t sound at all sorry for her naughty teenage niece, and I wondered how much my buxom cousin enjoyed lying in her stinky mess for an hour or so while trying to sleep. I well knew what that felt like!

Distracted by my memories, I missed the next few exchanges in their conversation. My attention was dragged back to the present when Mummy stated quite firmly, “No Cath. Not tonight. I told you already; I’m going out tonight with Ellen Green.” I sighed with relief when I felt sure my sadistic Aunt wouldn’t be visiting us again today. “No, I’ve already organised a babysitter.” Another pause. “Connie, a neighbour’s teenage daughter from down the road. You don’t know her.” That reminded me; Connie was coming over to babysit us tonight, and I had promised the pushy teenager I would talk to Mummy this week about David sexually assaulting me. Mummy paused a few seconds before continuing, “The neighbour who lives behind us… Yes, that’s right. Ellen. The one who shot the video of my naughty baby having a little play in her tutu.” She listened again for a few more moments before adding, “Yes, her daughter Daisy is having the Fairy Princess party tomorrow. You can come over then and see how beautiful they look all dressed up.” Another pause. “That’s right. Two o’clock, Sunday afternoon.”

Air noisily sucked back through the nipple of my emptying baby bottle and I felt a familiar hot splash in the front of my diaper. I squeezed hard with my long-unused sphincter muscles, and sighed with relief when I barely managed to control my flow. I dropped my empty bottle to the floor, jumped to my feet, and ran as fast as I could to Mummy, squealing, “Mummy! Mummy, I need to do a wee-wee! Mummy, I need to do wee-weeth in my potty!” Mummy held up one palm to momentarily silence me, and I skidded to a stop right in front of her. I tried to reach down and grab hold of the head of my clittie to help contain the uncontrollable minor squirts that accidentally leaked out, but my mittens and my stiff tutu skirts were in the way.

Mummy tucked the phone under one ear as she said, “Hang on a second, Cath.” She brushed my clumsy mittened fists aside and raised my rustling tulle skirts with one hand, and then slid her other fingers inside the leg band of my leotard at the front. She wormed her way inside my plastic panties and inside the plastic outer layer of my disposable diaper. She grimaced in disgust when she felt the warm wet wadding between my legs. “Oh baby! I think it’s a little late for the potty! You’ve already wet your diaper!”

Mummy was distracted when her sister asked a question, but she couldn’t prevent that familiar long-suffering tone creeping into her voice when she replied into the receiver, “Yes Cath. Of course it’s Baby Jennie who wet herself! Angie doesn’t wear nappies any more. She’s a big girl who uses the potty - not a silly little baby like Baby Jennie.” I knew her cruel comments were meant for my ears, and the humiliating barbs struck home. My cheeks turned pink with shame and I bowed my head, my brimming eyes fixed on the trembling tulle skirts separating us. Mummy ripped her fingers out of my nappy crotch and wiped the damp tips on my white terry bibbie as she muttered in annoyance, “Look Cath, I have to go. My naughty wet baby girl needs a change right away. Yes, okay, Two o’clock tomorrow. See you then. Goodbye.”

She hung up the phone and rose to her feet, and she frowned down at me in distaste. “Baby girl? Why didn’t you tell Mummy you needed to use the potty? I only checked your diaper ten minutes ago.” I twisted my frothy skirts from side to side and stared up at her with wide innocent eyes. I batted my long fluttering black lashes at her endearingly even as I felt another hot gush in my diaper. But Mummy was immune to my childish feminine wiles, and she shook her head and gave a sharp snort of disdain. She unclipped my white bibbie and tucked it under one arm before she firmly clutched my wrist. “Come with Mummy up to the Nursery, you bad little baby girl.” When I glanced over at Angie, her cornflower-blue eyes were wide over the bottom of her sippy-cup, and she was scornfully shaking her head at me in imitation of Mummy.

My sister slowly followed us upstairs, and Mummy dragged me into the Nursery and stood me beside the change table while she unbuckled and removed my fairy wings. I realised there was no point in trying to hold it, so I freely wet my diaper while Mummy roughly tugged me this way and that. I couldn’t help enjoying the soothing hot rush around my hairless genitals, and I loved the way the clinging warmth slowly crept around to my bottom. My sparkling tiara was torn from my curls and I cried out in pain, but Mummy merely frowned dismissively at my shrill girlish squeals. Her movements were rough and uncaring when she peeled the snug pink leotard down my body and over my legs. I almost fell when she yanked the rustling skirts clear of my feet. She caught me and lifted me onto the change table, and settled me onto my back before tugging down my transparent baby panties.

Mummy ripped apart the tapes and tugged the soggy disposable diaper from under me without bothering to order me to lift my bottom first. She used the relatively dry rear to swab clean my shrivelled genitals, and then disposed of the used diaper in the usual way. I watched her warily when she prepared one of my normal cloth nappies, placing an opened toddler’s disposable diaper between the two fluffy cloth layers she arranged on the change table between my splayed legs. Mummy placed two of the blue disposable liners on top as usual, and then she grabbed my ankles. She pushed my feet together, slipped her left hand under my ankles, and then rolled me back onto my shoulders as she slid the prepared nappies underneath me. She didn’t bother giving me any instructions, treating me like a helpless one-year-old incapable of understanding her intentions.

She brusquely wiped me down with some baby wipes, powdered my bottom and between my legs, and finished up by pouring a handful over my tummy and limp genitals. She carelessly rubbed in the sweet-smelling talc, watching my cowering face the whole time. The thick cloth nappies were swiftly double-pinned over my hips, and then Mummy selected a clean pair of pink baby panties for me from the dresser drawer. She opened the waist and leg holes wide, and fed my slippered feet through one at a time, and then slid the frosty pink pilchers up to my knees. Before I could try and lift my botty to assist her, she thrust my feet into the air with one hand, and tugged my crackling baby panties up my thighs and over the rear of my bulky swaddling one-handed. I knew it would have been much easier for her to simply order me to lift my bum to help her, but she seemed determined to treat me like a helpless infant, incapable of following even the simplest of instructions.

My crackling baby panties were tucked into my nappy around the crotch, and then Mummy picked up my discarded tutu from the floor. She fed my ballet slippers through the leg holes and slid the slinky leotard up to my knees, then grabbed my hands and made me sit up. Angie was standing before the mirror behind the wardrobe door, but her eyes had been watching Mummy’s every movement while she changed me. I was lifted down and when I was steady on my feet, Mummy finished tugging my baby panties into place and tucking in the snug elastic waistband all the way around. Then my tutu was dragged up my thighs, and it was a huge effort for Mummy to yank the tight leotard bodice over my bulky nappy. I had to grab her shoulders to prevent myself tumbling over backwards, she pulled so vigorously. After she finally slid the fur-covered shoulder straps into place, she twisted my shimmering lace-edged skirts from side to side, trying to settle the frothy layers evenly around my wide padded hips.

Mummy grabbed my shoulders and twirled me around, and thrust me over to stand beside my sister in front of the mirror. I could see Angie’s wide cornflower-blue eyes staring at the bulky nappy bulging out the front of my leotard panties, and the corners of her mouth turned up in scornful amusement. The huge wad of cloth between my thighs prevented me from bringing my legs together, and I knew I was wobbling like an unsteady infant. The shiny, stretchy pink lycra crotch piece at the front couldn’t hope to cover the wide expanse of fluffy dry terrycloth, and my shiny baby panties poked out the sides all the way around to the backs of my thighs. Tthe elastic band where the tulle skirts were sewn round my hips was so tight, it slid up over my slippery plastic panties beneath. It settled around my much narrower waist instead, straining the tautly-stretched crotch piece below even more. I slowly turned around and glanced back over my shoulder at my reflection, but the rear view was even worse. The dainty pink-and-white lace ruffles decorating my seat were stretched to absurdity across my huge padded bum, failing utterly to conceal the packed pink plastic panties poking out either side.

My expression must have revealed my dismay, because Mummy nodded in satisfaction and gave me a thin-lipped smile. ‘You don’t look so much like a beautiful ballerina now,” she commented. “Do you, baby girl?” I mournfully shook my head and plucked at the visible elastic leg bands of my baby panties, where they were stretched tautly around my outside upper thighs below my bouncing tulle skirts. I looked like a pretty, oversized, diapered toddler wearing a too-small ballet tutu, and I cringed in embarrassment at how retarded I appeared.

Mummy gave me another grim smile, but there was no humour in her cold olive-green eyes when she murmured, “I was planning on letting you wear a disposable diaper under your tutu to Daisy’s birthday party tomorrow afternoon, Baby Jennie. But if you wet your diaper at the party, Mummy will have to change her hopeless little baby girl into a proper thick cloth nappy, and then send her back to the Fairy Princess party dressed like that for all the other little girls to see. Is that what my naughty baby girl wants?”
“No Mummy, no!” I wailed in fright. I tried to control the hot spurt of wee-wees that seemed to gush out my limp clittie by pure reflex. “Pweathe no? I’ll be a good widdle girl, Mummy, I pwomithe!” She watched my tearful expression with calculating eyes, and she gave the barest nod of approval when she thought I had been suitably cowed by her threat.

My sister neatly twirled beside me and grinned contentedly at her shimmering reflection, before wickedly suggesting, “Let’s see you try and twirl now, Baby Jennie.” Of course I was as clumsy as a splay-legged one-year-old when I attempted to pirouette before the mirror, and Angie laughed with malicious satisfaction at my frustrated efforts to bring my thighs together. “See?” My sister prodded me in the side with her bony elbow, and I cringed away from her cruel touch. “I can do it better than you, now,” she boasted. “You’re just a silly baby in nappies. I’m a big girl, and I can dance like a beautiful ballerina.”

I felt relieved when Mummy removed my embarrassing too-tight tutu a short time later. She dressed me in my tiered red gingham frock instead. She lifted me onto the change table and lay me back to unlace my ballet slippers, and she took off my socks too. She made me wear the shiny red satin cheerleader panties over my frosty-pink plastic panties. Even though she didn’t bother asking, I helpfully raised my botty off the padded top so she could easily tug the sweetly-ruffled seat over the slippery rear of my plastic panties. The strappy red sandals were buckled on my bare feet, and again I wished my pretty baby-pink toenails were painted red to match my cute outfit.

Mummy then thankfully unbuckled the pink leather mittens from around my wrists. I sighed with relief when she took them off. My fingers had started cramping from being curled into fists for so long, and jagged barbs of pain lanced them when I first tried to straighten them out. Mummy ignored my whimpers of pain when she brusquely sat me up and clipped the white terry bibbie back around my neck. She attached my dummy chain to the frilly collar with the decorative plastic clip, then popped the amber rubber teat in my mouth. I couldn’t help but sulk when Mummy lifted me down and ordered me to get down onto my hands and knees again. “I warned you what would happen if you didn’t try to stay dry, little girl,” Mummy chastised me when she spied my grumpy expression. “Silly baby girls who can’t control themselves have to crawl like little babies, don’t they?”
“Yeth Mummy,” I mumbled in surly reply.

Angie giggled in callous amusement as I crawled towards the landing doorway. She nimbly skipped past me with a superior smug smirk plastered across her pretty face. Mummy followed me as I slowly bumped my way downstairs on my puffy bot-bot. She gave me a thin-lipped smile of approval when I reached the bottom step and I automatically dropped to my hands and knees once more. “Crawl out to the sunroom where your big sister can keep an eye on you, baby,” Mummy ordered. I meekly followed the direction of her pointing finger while she returned to the kitchen.

When I crawled into the sunroom, Angelica was still dancing and twirling gaily around the room, her frothy wide-flared skirts swishing noisily around her slender hips. She paused and turned to face me, and she caressed the slinky pink bodice of her sleek lycra leotard over her tummy. She haughtily patted the bouncing layers of musk-pink tulle into place and gazed down in disdain at my subdued infantile appearance. “Look at me, Baby Jennie!” Angie smugly cried, before deftly twirling in a full circle to face me again. “Look! I’m a beautiful ballerina and you’re just a baby! You’re just a baby! You’re just a baby!” she chanted while she danced all the way around my kneeling form, giggling with spiteful glee when my head drooped in shame.

“I want my dolly,” I snivelled around the teat of my dum-dums, seeking any distraction from my miserable plight.
“Mummy!” Angelica yelled in the direction of the kitchen.
“What is it, darling?” Mummy called in reply.
“The baby wants her dolly,” she informed Mummy before she attempted another pirouette.

“Can you be a big girl for Mummy and get it for her, darling? Mummy is a little busy in here right at the moment.”
“Okay.” Angelica obligingly skipped out of the room and dashed upstairs to my Nursery, where she collected my baby dolly Justine from my crib. When she returned, she was carelessly carrying my dolly upside-down by one leg. I frowned up at her resentfully. “Here baby. Here’s your dolly,” she said with casual disregard, dropping Justine onto the carpet in front of me. “I’m a beautiful ballerina, but you’re just a baby,” she reminded me yet again.

I picked up Justine and gave her a cuddle while Angie danced away from me. “I don’t care,” I whispered resentfully in my dolly’s ear. “I still look prettier than her in my tutu, anyway.” Fortunately for me, Justine totally agreed with my spiteful assessment. I sat there on my warm wet bottom playing with my dolly while Angie joyfully danced around the room. After about half an hour I think she was getting bored with playing ballerina dress-ups all by herself. She disappeared into the kitchen and a few minutes later, Mummy took her upstairs to change her outfit. While they were upstairs the doorbell rang, and I crawled towards the hall doorway and cautiously poked my head around.

Mummy came bounding down the stairs a few moments later, followed by Angelica. My sister had changed into her sleeveless red gingham dress like mine, and she had her strappy red sandals buckled on her feet too. I noticed with a twinge of envy that the hem of Angie’s tiered red frock fell halfway down her thighs, whereas mine was short enough that the crotch of my baby panties was permanently on display. Angie paused halfway down the stairs and watched as Mummy strode to the front door. Curiosity overcame caution and I crawled into the hallway to see who had come to visit, too. When Mummy opened the front door wide, I recognised the smiling brunette from the medical supply shop waiting on our porch.

“Hello,” said Melanie, and for some strange reason, she looked slightly embarrassed to be standing there. “I’m here to deliver the supplies for your big baby,” she explained, as if the huge bundle of fluffy pink nappies in her arms wasn’t explanation enough.
“Oh good! Come in, come in,” Mummy cried, opening the door wider and ushering the pretty twenty-something sales clerk inside. “It’s Melanie, isn’t it?”
“Yes Ma’am,” she replied, and her pink cheeks turned a rosier hue even as her big brown eyes searched the house for me.
Mummy closed the door and stepped in front of the heavily-burdened blushing brunette. “Here, let me take this and I’ll show you the way. The baby’s Nursery is upstairs, the second doorway on the right.”

As well as the bundle of nappies, Melanie had a bulging plastic shopping bag emblazoned with the name of the medical supply store looped over one arm. Mummy took the bag from her arm and peeked inside, then she grinned at me. I felt certain the bag contained a fresh selection of pretty wetproof baby panties for me. Melanie nodded a greeting to my sister on the stairs, and then stared at me lurking in the hallway on all fours, the pink frills of my humiliating bibbie scraping the carpet and my big pink dummy bobbing in my mouth. She smiled broadly at the infantile sight I made, and briefly nodded to me before she followed Mummy upstairs. Angie watched them walk past and then turned and inquisitively trailed after them. I heard Melanie’s delighted cries of amazement echoing down the stairs when she caught sight of the assortment of big pink baby furniture decorating my Nursery. I didn’t know whether to feel embarrassed or pleased by her thrilled reaction.

By the time Mummy led the grinning brunette back downstairs, she and Melanie were chatting like kindred souls once more. Angie followed a few steps behind them, but she paused halfway down to lean over the balustrade and smirk down at me. “Would you like to stay for a cup of coffee or something, Melanie?” Mummy asked the smiling brunette when they reached the bottom.
“No, I can’t,” Melanie politely declined, although it looked like she wanted to stay. “Thank you anyway, Isabell. I still have several more deliveries to make and a schedule to keep.” The attractive brunette turned and walked down the hallway towards me, and she stepped around my kneeling form to lean down behind me. “Those pretty red panties look so cute on her,” she commented to Mummy, as she crisply swatted my huge padded behind. “I love frilly panties on little girls.”

Even though the affectionate slaps were quite loud, I barely felt a thing, but that didn’t stop my cheeks from blushing rosily with embarrassment. ‘Thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack!’ The familiar infantile sound seemed to cause my bladder sphincter to instinctively relax. Hot wee-wees pulsated out of my limp clittie in time with each firm swat. ‘Thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack!’ I thought about telling Mummy that I needed to use the potty, but I didn’t want Melanie to observe that humiliating part of my baby treatment as well. Anyway, her hand patting my bottom actually felt nice, and I was enjoying the warm stimulating sensations front and back. ‘Thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack!’

I sighed quietly in regret when she stopped smacking my bum and stood up. Melanie stepped around right in front of me and crouched down, and she gently cupped my bowed chin with her fingers. She raised my head until she could examine my feminised features from mere inches away, and she smiled and shook her head in amazement. Then her eyes dropped to the humiliating inscription on my bibbie, and her smile grew broader when she read it aloud. “Aww! ‘Mummy’s Precious Potty Princess!’ That’s adorable!”

Melanie released my chin and stood, and she walked back to Mummy grinning madly. “I can hardly believe it,” she declared incredulously. “Two weeks ago, she – he - was a naughty little pants-wetting boy, and now she’s a beautiful little baby girl!”
“Yes, she is,” Mummy agreed with a thin smile, “but it’s a pity I can’t seem to potty-train my little panty-wetter.” She sighed heavily. “Sometimes I think my little Baby Jennie is going to be stuck in nappies forever!”
“It’s lucky she makes such a gorgeous little baby girl then, isn’t it?” Melanie tittered, as Mummy opened the front door for her.
“Yes, it is,” Mummy agreed with a tight smile. “Thank you for delivering my big baby’s new nappies and pilchers, Melanie.”
“You’re welcome! Call me anytime you need a babysitter.” She handed Mummy a business card, which my mother slipped into the back pocket of her jeans. “All part of the service,” the chirpy brunette added. “Goodbye all.” She waved farewell to Angie and me before stepping outside.

“Goodbye Melanie. Thanks again.” Mummy closed the door behind her, and then strode down the hallway towards me. She paused beside where I still knelt on all fours, and reached down and gave my bulging bottom one quick firm spank. Then she slid her fingers inside the elastic leg bands of both pairs of my panties to probe the crotch of my nappy. I looked up to check her reaction when she discovered I was already a little wet. She grimaced in disappointment before ripping her fingers out of my baby panties. She wiped her damp fingertips on my drooping bibbie as she mournfully shook her head at me. My chin dropped in shame. Mummy didn’t bother reprimanding me. She simply stalked off to the kitchen with another of those long-suffering sighs of hers. I didn’t know whether to feel pleased or embarrassed that she didn’t chastise me as she usually did when I wet my nappy. Her disdainful silent treatment made me somehow feel even more useless and infantile. It was as though she expected nothing more of me, because I really was just a helpless little baby girl who couldn’t control herself.

I noticed Angie peering down at me from over the banister, shaking her head and sneering in contempt for my hopeless baby ways. I turned away from her disdainful stare and crawled back into the sunroom to my dolly. My sister ran back upstairs to fetch her baby dolly from her bedroom, too. We spent the next half-hour playing together with our baby dollies, although Miss Bossy-boots kept telling me how I should hold my baby and how I should put her to the breast, and how to check if her nappy needed changing, and so on and so on. As if I needed instructions from her on how to change a diaper! When the front doorbell chimed again, I timidly remained out of sight in the sunroom this time. Angie jumped to her feet and dashed down the hallway. Mummy followed from the kitchen at a more sedate pace. When she opened the front door, I heard them greeting Connie, our babysitter. My heart froze. I was supposed to tell Mummy about David assaulting me before Connie returned to babysit us this evening. I hadn’t found the time - or the courage - to mention a word of it to Mummy yet.

Connie strolled into the sunroom after Mummy with my babbling sister in tow. The toothy brunette was wearing a cute tennis outfit consisting of a short pleated white skirt that exposed most of her muscular brown legs, and a snug white tank top with thin spaghetti straps over her freckled sun-bronzed shoulders. The stretchy top tightly hugged her mammoth bosoms, and her underwired sports bra caused the excess flesh to bulge out over the top in an eye-catching cleavage. Connie wore her pink sneakers with the pink laces, and some short white sports socks with fluffy pink balls sewn at the back above the heel. A pink plastic Alice band kept her damp dark-brown hair from falling in her eyes, and she carried a packed pink nylon backpack in one hand with the handle of a tennis racquet poking out the top. Her glossy red-painted lips and tanned face seemed to make her dark brown eyes shine more brightly, and she positively glowed with rude health. “No,” she continued speaking to Mummy, “I have a change of clothes in my backpack here. I can shower and change later, after I help you feed the girls, put them on the potty and pop them in the bath.”

Mummy looked torn with indecision even as she headed back towards the kitchen. “If you’re sure?” she asked, obviously anxious to return to where dinner was cooking.
Connie simply laughed and waved Mummy on her way. “My mum always said that dinner and bath time were the most frenzied times in any home with small children, so I thought I’d come over early and help you out with ‘the witching hour’,” Connie joked. “I’ll wash up after I’ve put the girls down for the night, Mrs R. Don’t worry about me.” She crouched down in front of me to sweetly demand, “How are you, Baby Jennie?” She gave the pink plastic chain attached to my dum-dums a quick teasing tug that made my dummy unexpectedly pop out, and then prattled on as if she didn’t really expect a response. “You look very pretty today, darling. Look at that pretty mouth! I love your darker eyebrows and your curly hair. You look so cute!”

Angelica interrupted her litany of praise to tell Connie about our new ballet tutus. She grabbed the grinning teen’s hand and dragged her upstairs to show off our gorgeous new dance outfits. I heard my sister loudly boasting to her about graduating out of nappies and into pull-ups like a big girl, which only made me feel more ashamed of my heavily diapered state. I replaced the comforting nipple of my dum-dums in my mouth and started to crawl along behind them. When I reached the bottom of the stairs and gazed up to where I could hear their girlish squeals of excitement, I froze. I really wanted to join the other girls upstairs, but I didn’t want to have to crawl up and then bump my way back down again, especially with Connie watching my slow infantile progress. I decided to crawl back down the hallway through the doorway into the sunroom and wait for them. Connie tripped lightly down the stairs a few minutes later, but Angie paused at the top step and yelled in the direction of the kitchen. “Mummy? Can I put on my tutu again and show Connie?”
“No sweetie, not now,” Mummy called back without leaving the kitchen. “Wash your hands, sweetheart, and then come downstairs. Dinner is almost ready.”

Connie walked into the sunroom, her face split by a wide grin. I knew she was picturing me wearing my frothy pink tutu. Her grin faded when she knelt down in front of where I sat on the floor. She ordered quietly, “Lift up the front of your frock, Baby Jennie.” Connie slipped her hand inside the waistband of my baby panties and probed the front of my nappy, while she leaned closer and whispered in my ear. “Have you told your Mummy about what that nasty brute David did to you?” She leaned back to wipe her damp fingers on my bibbie, and watched my face carefully when I anxiously shook my head in denial. I cringed abjectly at the disappointment I could see in her big brown eyes. She compressed her full painted lips into a thin red line and frowned, shaking her head at me, as if she expected nothing more from a silly little girl like me.

“I’ll tell her. Thoon!” I whispered urgently around the rubber teat in my mouth. “I will, Aunty Connie. I pwomithe!” She gripped my dummy’s pink plastic ring and gave my oversized baby soother another teasing tug. I bit harder on the satisfying rubber nipple to prevent her stealing it.
“You were supposed to tell her before this weekend,” she reminded me with a frown.
“I will, I will!” I quietly pleaded, “Pweathe don’t thay anything to Mummy jutht yet? Pweathe Aunty Connie?” Even though she shook her head again in disappointment, she took pity on me.

“I’ll give you one more day - but that’s it. Then I’ll have to tell her myself.” Fortunately Mummy interrupted us at that moment to call us into the kitchen for dinner. Connie stood up and I reached out my arms and gazed up at her expectantly. She laughed at my childish unspoken request for assistance and helped me clumsily clamber to my feet. I was pleased when she kept hold of my hand to follow Angie out to the kitchen. At least I didn’t have to crawl all the way to my pink-painted steel highchair.

“Hey! New highchair,” Connie commented, before she lifted me backwards into the wide padded seat. She fed the end of pink nylon waist strap through the loop in the crotch piece and wound it around my body. She pulled it tight before securing me in place. She lowered the painted metal tray and chuckled when she saw the cartoon Princesses decorating the top surface. “How cute!”
“Yes,” Mummy replied as she sat Angie in her booster seat. “Baby’s Aunty Cath picked up some baby furniture more suitable for my big sissy baby. Wait till you see the new layette in her Nursery!”
“I can hardly wait,” chuckled Connie. She unclipped my dummy and plucked the teat from my mouth. She tut-tutted reproachfully as she used my white terry bibbie to wipe the shiny stream of drool dangling from my pouting lips to my baby pacifier. My cheeks turned pink with embarrassment.

Connie talked down to me and treated me like I was a useless one-year-old while she spoon-fed me my entire meal. At least she didn’t deliberately try to smear food all over my face, and the only time stuff spilled on my bib, it was mostly my own fault. She did pause regularly to wipe my chin with my frilly bibbie, and she gently chided me for being such a dribble-puss. Angie fed herself as usual, and when Mummy saw Connie had everything under control, she disappeared upstairs to shower and change. My sister finished her delicious dinner of roast lamb and vegetables before Connie finished feeding me half of my lukewarm pureed paste from a jar. Our babysitter took away Angie’s empty plate and replaced it with a bowl of diced apricots and pears, with hot custard poured over the top. By the time I managed to finally force down my serving of bland toddler food, Angie had almost drained her sippy-cup of warm milk.

“Good girl, Baby Jennie!” Connie praised me as she took away my empty Barbie bowl. “You ate up all your dinner like a big girl. Oh, and you’ve finished your dessert already, Angie. That was quick!” She let Angie out of her booster seat and before the toddler scurried out of the room, my sister turned back to watch Connie start feeding me my dessert. I was being allowed to eat the same thing as the grown-ups - I mean, my sister - except Mummy had put the diced mixed fruit through the blender first. My dessert was a pureed mess of pale orange paste, although the custard had simply been poured over the top rather than blended in. Connie took care of that detail, stirring in the sweet yellow custard with my pink rubber-coated spoon. Despite the unappetising appearance, it tasted delicious after the flavourless packaged toddler food. I greedily wolfed each mouthful from the spoon.

“I’m going upstairs to use my potty,” Angelica proudly announced, with a superior smug smirk for me.
“Do you need a hand, honey?” Connie asked her with a quick frown of concern.
“No, that’s okay,” Angie replied, casually waving away our babysitter’s offer of assistance. “I can do it by my own self, Aunty Connie. You stay here and finish feeding the baby.” She disappeared down the hallway, and Connie took away my empty bowl and rinsed it in the sink. A bottle of warm milk had been heating in the microwave, and when the box pinged, Connie opened the door and took out the hot baby bottle. She sealed the clear silicon nipple between her thumb and forefinger, and then inverted the pink plastic bottle and gently shook the contents, ensuring the heat was evenly distributed.

“Here, baby girl,” Connie crooned after a minute, thrusting the warm bottle into my hands. “Hold your own bottle like a big girl and drink up, sweetie. I just need to go and check on your sister.” She left me bound in my seat while she trotted after Angie, and I sat back in my roomy new highchair and drew hard on the teat of my baby bottle. There was plenty of room to slip one hand inside the tray and cup my fingers over the lovely warm front of my panties, and I caressed the slick satin material over the slithering plastic pilchers underneath. I love the feeling of luxurious satin sliding over slippery plastic. It feels so sensual!

I had almost finished my bottle of warm milk by the time Connie returned to the kitchen in her squeaking tennis shoes. I discretely moved my playful palm away from my crotch, wondering where she’d been for so long. She took the bottle from my hand and tilted the base high, making it easier for me to suck out the last few tepid drops. Connie must have been perspiring heavily while playing tennis this afternoon, and I could smell her musky body odour. It was kind of pleasant, actually. “Good girl,” she praised me with a wide smile, before she plucked the empty teat from my pursed lips. “What a good little baby girl you’re being for Aunty Connie.” She wiped my messy cheeks and chin with a warm soapy washer, and she was much gentler than Mummy had ever been. I found myself unconsciously pressing my face harder into the warm wet washcloth, which made her giggle.

Connie removed my dirty bibbie and tossed it on the kitchen bench, unfastened the seat belt, and unlocked and raised the hinged tray. She experimentally prodded the bulging front of my shiny satin panties. Her sculpted dark-brown eyebrows crawled up her forehead when she realised how wet I was. She cooed teasingly, “Ooo! Who’s a wet little baby girl? Hmm, Baby Jennie?” She helped me clamber down from my highchair, but she loudly sniffed the air around me as she steadied me on my feet. “And not just wet,” she commented with a frightening degree of certainty. “Pooh!” she cried, “I think some little girl had made a smelly mess in her nappy!” I shook my head in denial, but she ignored my mumbled protests and tilted me forward, so my freshly-scrubbed face was pressed between her bountiful breasts. I inhaled the combined aromas of her recent perspiration and her perfumed deodorant welling up from her fleshy cleavage, reveling in her sweet personal scents.

Meanwhile Connie raised the rear of my red gingham dress and pulled out the waistbands of my satin panties and my plastic pilchers, before using the fingers of her other hand to tug the back of my warm sodden nappy away from my body. “Pooh!” Connie cried again in dismay, as she peered over my shoulder and down inside the seat my nappy. “You sure did, baby girl!” She let go of my nappies and baby panties and stood upright, and I almost collapsed face-first into her wonderful lush breasts. “You did a big smelly poo in your nap-naps!” She grabbed my shoulders to steady me, and then held me at arm’s length to stare down at my embarrassed red face. “Baby Jennie?” Connie demanded, and I shuddered at the reproach in her tone. “Aren’t you supposed to be trying to hold it for the potty?” I meekly nodded my bowed head, cringing in shame.

Connie shook her head in disgust at my infantile lack of control, and released my shoulders. She scornfully pointed to the white linoleum tiles at her feet. “On your hands and knees, baby. Your Mummy said that if you couldn’t behave like a big girl, I was to treat you like the naughty little baby you apparently want to be.” I submissively dropped to my hands and knees, my limbs trembling with embarrassment. I hadn’t even realised I had soiled my nappy. I was sure I hadn’t felt anything coming out of my botty-hole. I kept my humiliated gaze glued to the floor so I wouldn’t have to see the disappointment I knew must be blazing from Connie’s big brown eyes. “And you are just a baby, aren’t you? Aren’t you, Baby Jennie? Yes, you’re just a silly little baby girl,” she answered for me in a condescending tone, like I was an infant incapable of responding.

I nodded remorsefully in agreement. It was true. I really was just a baby. A silly little baby girl. When Connie pushed the saliva-drenched dummy between my lips, I gratefully sucked on the soothing rubber teat. She left the decorative clip dangling by the plastic chain, and her low voice oozed contempt when she ordered, “You can crawl on all fours upstairs to your Nursery like a silly little baby. We need to change you out of that stinky poopy nappy right away. Go on, Baby Jennie! Off you crawl!” She encouraged me on my way with a single hard swat on my messy wet bottom, mashing the lumps over both cheeks. I shuffled towards the hallway on my hands and knees, pouting in misery.

To be continued in chapter 32.
Any comments?

Synopsis; Connie the babysitter teaches Baby Jennie that girls don't need a man when they want to have some special fun.
Thanks for the reply, shitkickercity

Chapter 32. Boys Into Girls

Connie followed me as I slowly crawled upstairs and along the landing. When I shuffled into my Nursery, I could hear Angelica in the en-suite bathroom splashing in the bathtub and singing happily. I crawled over to the change table and our toothily-grinning babysitter helped me to me feet. I swayed and stumbled for balance when she tugged my sleeveless red gingham frock over my head. I grabbed my dummy chain when it got caught in the collar, making sure the comforting rubber teat wasn’t ripped from my swollen pink lips. Connie lifted me onto the change table and lay me back. “Ooo, you’re a heavy baby,” she complained, but she smiled to take the sting out of her words. She unbuckled and removed my red strappy sandals, then she cooed, “Lift that botty for me, baby girl!”

When I obediently raised my rear, she tugged my red satin panties and my plastic baby panties together down to me knees. “Botty down, baby, and lift those little footsies. Good girl.” She dragged both pairs of panties away from my feet and discarded the glistening pink pilchers on the floor, but she held up the luxurious thick satin cheerleader panties to examine them more closely. “These are cute knickers,” she muttered in appreciation. She spread the waistband wide and admired the ruffled satin frills decorating the shiny seat, before crumpling them up and tossing them to the floor.

She removed the four pins clasping my wet nappy and stuck the sharp ends in the bar of soap on the shelf above the change table. “Pee-yew!” Connie cried, wrinkling her pug nose in repugnance as she lowered the soggy wet front of my dirty nappy. “Yuck-spuck! What a yucky pooey mess!” I thought she was carrying on a bit. It honestly didn’t smell that bad to me, and I pouted resentfully around the pink guard of my dum-dums. Connie grabbed some baby wipes, collected my ankles in one hand, forced my knees up to my chest, and rolled me back onto my shoulders. I tried to relax and let my botty cheeks flop open, and she used the cold baby wipes to scour clean my dirty poo-poo hole and between my legs. She tossed the filthy wipes into a nappy sack she left sitting open and ready at the head of the change table, and then she slid my dirty nappy from underneath me before letting my body unfurl. She carefully placed the soiled wet nappies lying open on the floor, and I could see there was a small amount of mud-brown poop smeared over the blue liners in the centre of the soggy yellowed crotch.

Mummy’s cranky voice startled us from the landing doorway. “Oh no! Did my dirty, bad little baby girl do another poo-poo in her nappy?” She was wearing a scoop-necked, knitted, baby-blue dress that fell halfway down her tanned mid-thighs. It clung to her womanly curves like a gold-digger wrapped around a millionaire. There was a gleaming strand of large round pearls around her swan-like neck and a matching pearl bracelet circling one slender wrist. Her blonde hair bounced off her shoulders in neatly-brushed curls and she was wearing a full face of make-up this evening. She looked beautiful, even as she frowned at me while she tilted her head to one side, struggling to insert one of her dangly pearl earrings into a pierced lobe. She chastised me without entering the room. “What a naughty bad baby!”

“I’m afraid so,” Connie agreed with a theatrically loud sigh. My brunette babysitter removed the disposable soaker pad from between the cloth layers. She used the diaper’s damp absorbent lining to scoop up most of my sticky mess in the disposable liners, then scraped the remaining bits off my soiled nappy. “Some little girl just isn’t trying hard enough, I think.” Connie carefully folded up the dirty disposable, taped it closed, and stuffed it into the orange nappy sack. Once it was tied closed, the bulging nappy sack went into the bin, and she tossed my smelly wet nappies in my nappy bucket. Connie sat me up and helped me climb down from the change table.

When she relaxed her grip on my waist, I automatically dropped to my hands and knees. She and Mummy both nodded in thin-lipped approval. Connie pointed towards the en-suite and sternly ordered, “Crawl into the bathroom and we’ll sit you on your potty anyway, Baby Jennie. Go on! Off you go, you naughty baby girl!” I crawled into the bathroom, remorsefully chewing on my dummy teat, where my sister sat in a steaming tub almost overflowing with bubbles. Angie watched my humiliating entrance and I could see the contempt in her narrowed eyes.

“I’m sorry, Connie.” I heard Mummy step into the Nursery behind me to apologise for my unfortunate messy accident.
“That’s alright,” Connie blithely replied, untying the laces of her tennis sneakers. “You’ve only been potty-training her for a couple of days. We started Thursday night, right? It’s only Saturday night now. Some babies just take longer to train than others, that’s all.”
“Yes, but my Angelica is doing so well!” I felt my cheeks burn at the odious comparison, and the pregnant silence that followed.
“I better tend to Baby Jennie and put her on her potty before she makes a mess on the bathroom floor,” Connie finally suggested, as she kicked of her sandshoes and peeled down her socks.

Mummy gave a rueful laugh. “Good idea. I’m afraid that’s a distinct possibility with my hopeless little baby girl. Do you need a hand?”
“No, Angelica has already used her potty like a big girl, and she’s just about ready to hop out of the bath. I’ll give her a quick once-over in the tub and then get her ready for bed, while Baby Jennie has a little sit on her potty. You go and finish getting ready to go out.”
“Thanks, darling. You’re an angel!” Mummy called after her, as Connie padded barefoot into the en-suite bathroom.

Our babysitter shot me a condescending smirk when she saw me obediently waiting on all fours beside my potty. Connie lifted me into the low pink wooden chair with a grunt of effort, and settled my bare bum over the hole in the seat. She carefully tucked my limp clittie under the pink plastic scoop in front, and then wrapped the pink leather seat belt around me and buckled me into the humiliating baby commode. “There,” she muttered in satisfaction. The busty brunette stepped over to the vanity basin and washed her hands before standing beside the bath. I noticed Connie’s tiny toenails were painted the same brilliant red colour as her fingernails, and she had obviously chosen the shade to complement her vivid red lips. “Here, honey,” she crooned to my sister as she soaped up a wet washcloth. “Let Aunty Connie make sure you’re really clean.”

When Connie knelt beside the tub and leaned over to wash between Angie’s legs, her short, pleated tennis skirt rode up her back. She was wearing a pair of full-cut, high-waisted, white nylon panties stretched tautly over her plump round bottom. As she spread her knees wider for balance, the shiny satiny material clung to her feminine globes like it was painted on. When her hips rocked backwards and forwards, it looked like Connie’s bum crack was trying to eat the seat of her pretty white panties! There were several rows of frilly white ruffles decorating her curvaceous rear across the top of her crack, like my frilly rumba panties. I thought her big round bottom looked absolutely gorgeous poking out from under the revealing little skirt. Angie was chortling in delight as Connie gently scrubbed her delicate bits, then our babysitter ordered my sister to stand up. “On your feet, sweetie, and turn your face to the wall.” When Angie obeyed, Connie asked, “Bend over for me a little bit, sweetheart, and hold your botty cheeks open so I can give you a good scrub back there, too. Okay?”

Angelica giggled as she obediently held her little cheeks wide with the spread fingers of both hands. “What a good little helper you’re being tonight!” Connie praised her as she carefully scrubbed my sister’s exposed botty-hole. “Good girl, Angie! Alright darling, out you hop!” I tried not to look envious of the way our babysitter treated and talked to my sister, although I resentfully sucked louder on my dum-dums. Connie stood and lifted Angelica out of the tub, placing her little feet on the bathmat before wrapping her in a huge fluffy pink towel. She mostly dried her on the spot, before ushering the bouncing little girl ahead of her through the Nursery towards her own bedroom.

I sat there all alone on my potty for about ten minutes, I guess, and then Mummy strode into the bathroom on a click-clacking pair of navy-blue heels. “Have you done anything on that potty yet, Baby Jennie?” Mummy demanded of me, placing her curled fists on her hips. She spread her long legs wide and assumed a menacing waiting pose. From the contemptuous look on her beautiful painted face, I could tell she was expecting a negative response.
“I don’t think tho, Mummy,” I sadly replied around my mouth-filling dummy teat, unable to meet her steely olive-green eyes.
“Hmph,” she grunted dismissively, but she didn’t bother checking for herself. “Oh well. I haven’t got time to stand around here all night waiting for you to perform, little girl. I have to meet Ellen for dinner.” Mummy stepped over to where I sat bound and naked on my humiliating pink potty chair, and crouched down to give me a quick farewell peck on the cheek. She smelled divine too, like a fragrant cloud of sweet citrus fruits.

“You make sure you behave for your babysitter this evening like a good little girl, Baby Jennie,” Mummy cautioned me as she stood upright, frowning down at me in warning. “I’ve given Connie permission to spank your bare bottom if you give her any trouble! Any trouble at all! So you mind her and make sure you do everything she says. And if I hear from her that you needed a spanking, you’ll receive another dose from me first thing in the morning - with the paddle! Do you hear me?”

I quaked in fright, my bladder contracting in fear and releasing a tiny squirt of urine into my potty. The thin stream was so small, I don’t think Mummy heard the muffled splash in the pink plastic bowl. When she stared at me expectantly, awaiting my response, I tremulously replied, “Yeth Mummy, I- I hear you.” I sucked harder on my dum-dums, seeking the solace the soothing rubber teat normally provided.
“Good. I’ll see you in the morning, baby girl. Try and stay dry for Mummy - or at least, try not to poop your nappy tonight, like you usually do. Alright, baby? Bye-bye.” She ignored my embarrassed blushes and gave me a quick wave, turned smartly on her high heels and strode out of the bathroom.

After another five or ten minutes, my poor bot-bot was practically sinking through the hole in my potty-chair. It was starting to feel really uncomfortable! I gave a mewl of thanks when Connie eventually returned and stood in front of me. She squatted down and spread my knees, peering between my splayed thighs to see if I had managed to produce anything in my potty. “Hmph,” she grunted, disappointed by my relative lack of results. Her muscular brown thighs carelessly drifted apart as she concentrated between my legs. I could see the shiny white crotch of her tight nylon panties, where the damp gusset cleaved to the sweet moist flesh underneath like a second skin.

I tore my gaze from her attractive feminine mound to peer down between my own spread thighs. There was a shallow yellow puddle in my pink potty, but that was all. Connie stood and turned to the vanity bench, and began opening and closing the drawers as though searching for something. “Aha!” she cried, and she took out the box of thin latex gloves and slipped one onto her right hand. I watched her with wide eyes, my tiny tool instantly thickening at the sight. When she snapped the blue cap off the tub of Vaseline lying on the bench, my clittie stiffened even more. The swelling shaft was trapped beneath the pink plastic scoop of my potty, with nowhere for it to expand.

Connie stepped behind me and unfastened the seat belt, before drawing the thin leather strap around my body and tossing it out of the way. She stepped in front of me and crouched down again. “Open your legs wide,” she commanded, and reached down between my spread legs. I bit hard on the amber rubber teat in my mouth and shuddered in arousal when she grabbed hold of my pulsating stiffie in her warm gloved fist. She gave the rock-hard shaft a few firm squeezes to milk out the last few drops of urine. I moaned uncontrollably at the thrilling sensations. Connie chuckled in derision as she dragged my stiffie out from under the pink plastic scoop in front. The sensitive tip scraped against the rough edge of the underside, making me gasp in pain. But it didn’t seem to affect my pulsating erection, which slapped noisily against my tummy before pointing compass-like to the ceiling.

“Hold your thingy against your tummy, baby, and lift your nut-sack out of the way with your other hand,” Connie gently commanded. Now that we were on our own, her attitude towards me had dramatically softened. I wondered if her ruthless behaviour earlier had mainly been for Mummy’s benefit? I eagerly clutched my throbbing stiffie in my right fist and pressed the hot crimson head against my belly, then reached down between my legs with my left hand and grabbed hold of my hairless ball sack. I gently grasped my testicles and lifted my wrinkled pink sack high out of her way, cupping my balls against my body and leaning forward to see what she intended doing.

“Now sit back a little more, and tilt your hips up. That’s it, darling,” she cooed. “Now spread your legs wide. Wider, baby. That’s it. Good girl!” She held up the tub of Vaseline in her bare left hand and dipped her gloved right middle finger deep inside, swirling it around to make sure the whole length was covered in slippery gel. Then she leaned forward and threaded her gloved hand between my splayed thighs, sliding her greasy fingertip backwards over my sensitive perineum as she delicately probed for my wrinkled pink opening. “Open up, baby girl,” she tenderly crooned. “Open up for me… Ahhh! That’s better!”

“Ahhh!” I likewise gasped when her lubricated finger penetrated my anus, but mine was a cry of pleasure rather than mere satisfaction. Connie slowly slid her longest finger inside my twitching back door, all the way to last knuckle, leaning closer to me as she tried to feel inside me as far as possible. Her warm gloved palm pressed against the sensitive place between my legs, and her huge swaying breasts gently mashed against my body. For a moment I wanted to lean forward and press my face into that inviting fleshy cleavage, but her finger moving inside my bottom was too thrilling to ignore. Instead I leaned right back and tilted my hips up even higher to aid her anal investigation. “Oh-oh!” Connie cried in dismay. She leaned back so she could see my face when she muttered, “I can feel some poo-poo up there, baby girl! Why didn’t you try and push it out while you’ve been sitting on the potty?”

I blushed and ducked away from her accusing stare, but despite my pink-cheeked embarrassment, my throbbing clittie pulsated madly in my fist. “I don’t know,” I mumbled in misery. Connie shook her head in disbelief and clucked her tongue in irritation.
“Silly girl! Try and push my finger out. Go on, push it out like you’re trying to do a poo. Go on baby! Show me how you do poo-poos on your potty. Take a deep breath, hold it and push,” she ordered, talking down sweetly to me like I really was a two-year-old girl in need of instruction.

I sat up as straight as I could with her wrist jammed between my thighs and her finger plugged up my arse. I obediently sucked in a huge lungful of air, clamped my mouth closed around my dummy-teat, and pushed down hard with my tummy muscles. I could feel my excited hard clittie swelling in my fist as it engorged with fresh blood. My cheeks turned red as I grunted loudly with effort, and I was rewarded by Connie’s cry of delight. “Oh good girl! That’s it, baby! Keep pushing! Good girl!” I took another deep breath and held it, and gripped my throbbing tool tighter. I bit down on the amber rubber teat as I pushed down hard again, trying to force out her wiggling finger. It was impossible! Instead I felt a flow of warm mush surge out of my straining hole, and my crooning babysitter slowly lowered her cupped palm so it could fill with my soft crap.

“That’s my girl! Good girl! Keep pushing, baby. That’s right, good bubba! Are we all done now? Have we finished doing poo-poos on the potty? Aww, good baby. I think so,” Connie prattled to me like she was talking to a real toddler. “Sit back again now, baby, and spread your little leggies nice and wide for me,” she cooed. I was panting from a combination of exertion and arousal as I meekly followed her crooned commands. She slowly withdrew her finger from my twitching anus and she snickered at my moan of disappointment. Connie carefully eased her gloved hand from between my spread thighs before holding her cupped palm under my chin so I could see what I managed to push out. I grabbed the dangling plastic chain of my dum-dums lest it flop into the smelly mess. The entire length of one gloved finger was thickly coated in sticky brown poo-poos, and there was a small mound of dark-brown turds sitting in the centre of her palm. The rank aroma of my fresh excrement filled my nostrils, but Connie didn’t seem to mind the nasty smell.

She grinned in delight and insisted, “See, baby? There was more poo-poos up inside your naughty little botty hole! But I think we got all the nasty stuff out now.” Connie stood and turned to the open toilet bowl, and reached down and swirled her gloved hand under the water to dislodge my sticky poop. When she managed to shake off most of the tacky crap, she stood and carefully removing the dirty glove. She made sure it was turned all the way inside-out before she crumpled it up and tossed it in the bin under the vanity. I was surprised when she took out another single fresh white latex glove and slipped it on her right hand again, before walking over to stand beside me. “Alright, baby girl. You can hop off your potty now, but I want you down on all fours. Come on, baby,” she sang invitingly. “On your hands and knees for Aunty Connie.”

I reluctantly released my thrilling grip on my pulsating clittie and awkwardly clambered off the potty onto my hands and knees. She cooed in approval, “Good girl! Now rest your forehead on the bathmat, and lift that little botty right up high in the air for me. That’s it. Good baby.” She wiped my messy bottom clean with a handful of toilet tissue, tossed it in the toilet, and flushed the contents away. “Now let Aunty Connie check that little bot-bot one more time,” She didn’t use much Vaseline this time, but I assumed my back passage had already been well coated by her previous application. “Ooo! Baby Jennie is nice and open now, isn’t she?” she teased me, as she slid two greasy gloved fingers straight inside my twitching botty-hole. I couldn’t prevent my helpless grunts of excitement when Connie’s fingers penetrated me all the way to the last knuckle. “Ahh! That’s better,” she muttered, grinning in delight. “Baby feels nice and clean back there now, doesn’t she?”

I sighed with disappointment when she plucked out her erotically twirling digits. I raised my hot red face from the bathmat when she gaily ordered, “Look, baby!” She held up her gloved hand in front of my flushed face, and twirled her splayed fingers around for my inspection. Even though there was a layer of shiny grease covering her two longest fingers, there was no trace of brown filth staining her glove this time. “Good girl! See? No more poo-poos.” She peeled off the latex glove and disposed of it, and then pointed to the filled bath. “Time for you to climb in the tub, little girl. Go on, in you hop.”

Connie plucked out my dummy and tossed it on the vanity bench, where the plastic chain and clip clattered against the mirror. She turned back and grabbed my shoulder when I stumbled to my feet, and she helped me clumsily clamber into the frothy bath. I eagerly sat in the hot tub, grateful when the strawberry-scented bubbles rose around my bobbing stiffie, concealing my arousal from my giggling babysitter’s bemused gaze. “We have to make sure we don’t get your pretty curls wet, baby,” she chuckled. She fitted a frilly pink nylon shower cap over my head, making sure every one of my platinum curls was safely encased inside the wetproof plastic.

As with Angelica, Connie soaped up a warm wet washcloth and proceed to scrub every inch of my body, treating me like a useless toddler who couldn’t be trusted to bathe herself. She washed my face and the back of my neck, and she even scrubbed behind my ears. I enjoyed it when she gently scoured my back with the flannel for a few minutes, rubbing in small circles all the way down to my bottom. I leaned forward to make the task easier for her. I clutched my pounding clittie beneath the bubbles and discretely caressed the spongy head with my cupped palm, pleased that she couldn’t see that I was playing with myself under the water. Connie washed my hands and arms, and made me raise my hands over my head, cooing, “Reach for the stars, baby girl.” When I obeyed, she scrubbed my hairless armpits, then she let me lower my arms while she washed my chest and tummy. As soon as my right hand splashed below the surface, it returned to fondling the sensitive swollen tip of my pulsating clittie. I reluctantly released my grip on my excitable rock-hard tool when her hand plunged under the water, although I gasped in excitement when she wrapped the soapy washcloth all the way around my straining erection.

“Ahh, baby likes that!” she snickered knowingly, watching my face carefully as she thrillingly stroked my pounding tool again and again. I panted with arousal and desperately thrust my hips against the soft wet washcloth, hungrily seeking more stimulation. I groaned and pouted in disappointment when Connie released my swollen clittie and reached further down, gently washing my tender ball sack and the sensitive spot between my legs. She chuckled at my protruding bottom lip when she moved down my thighs and scrubbed behind my knees. Connie commented with an envious pout, “Your little legs are so soft and smooth, baby!” She finished up washing the tops and bottoms of my feet, and I had to giggle when she ran the soapy flannel between each and every one of my pink-painted toesies. It felt good, but it tickled like crazy! “Alright, baby girl. Stand up and face the wall,” she instructed in that sing-song baby voice of hers. I scrambled to my feet and turned to face the wall, pressing my hot damp forehead against the cool white tiles. Without being told, I bent right over and cheekily thrust out my bottom, and I reached back with both hands and stretched my butt-cheeks sluttishly wide.

Connie laughed at my submissive stance, and obliged me by scouring between my spread cheeks again and again with the warm soapy washer until she was certain I was shining-clean back there. My swollen clittie twitched and throbbed maddeningly every time she stroked my sensitive puffy anal lips, until I grew desperate to caress my pounding erection. I was distracted by the sound of her pulling out the bath plug, and as the tub began to drain, she turned me around and helped me climb out of the bath. Connie chuckled at my uncontrollable arousal, amused by the way my pounding clittie kept noisily slapping my wet tummy as I clumsily clambered out. She wrapped a dry pink bath towel around my damp shoulders, took off my pink nylon shower cap, and then proceeded to vigorously rub me all over with the absorbent fluffy towel.

She made sure I was completely dry everywhere before she wrapped me up in the towel again and bundled me into the Nursery. I snatched my dum-dums from the vanity bench as we shuffled past, and she grinned and shook her head disparagingly when I compulsively stuffed the satisfying rubber teat back in my mouth. I assumed we were heading for the change table, and I was surprised when she steered me towards the open pink-painted steel crib. Her pink nylon backpack was lying on the floor beside my cot and when she lifted me in, I noticed the fuzzy pink blanket was covered by my white cotton, plastic-backed change mat. I frowned in momentary confusion.

“Sit up, baby,” Connie commanded as she ripped away my towel. Even though it was a warm evening, I shivered at the sudden drop in temperature after the hot bath, and my little nipples grew stiffly erect. “Do you really want to be a girl?” she earnestly questioned me, her expression terribly serious.
I nodded just as seriously. “Yeth!” I desperately cried around the teat of my dum-dums, “Yeth Aunty Connie! I weally want to be a widdle girl. Weally twuly!”

She smiled at my earnest heartfelt response, and nodded in understanding. Connie leaned in and grasped me under the armpits, grunting with effort as she helped me to sit up leaning against my pillow, with my bare back resting against the gaily painted wooden headboard of my crib. “Then we need to have a little talk.” I was completely naked and she giggled in derision when I defensively clutched my bobbing stiffie with my right hand, cupping my ball sack protectively with the other. “You know you’re way to young to be having sex,” she scolded me, wagging her index finger under my nose. I admired her glossy red nail polish. She tried to look stern and I tried to look suitably penitent, but it was difficult when she kept smirking at me.

“It wathn’t my fault,” I feebly protested. “David made me do it!”
“It didn’t sound like anyone was forcing you when I caught you two going at it on your old change table,” she reminded me with a wicked teasing grin. “I didn’t hear you telling him to stop. Quite the reverse, in fact.”
“I did tell him to thtop - at firtht,” I tremulously insisted, trying to conceal my guilty expression when I remembered how excited it made me feel to have David’s cock thrusting deep inside me.

“Uh-huh,” Connie agreed, although she sounded like she didn’t believe a word I was saying. “Sure baby. Anyway, I just wanted to make sure you knew that what you did was wrong. You’re too little to even think about having intercourse.” When she saw my confused expression, she clarified; “You know - having sex with a boy. Letting him put his penis inside of you.” I nodded in understanding, even though my throbbing clittie instantly grew harder in my fist.

Connie bent over and picked up her pink nylon backpack, and sat it in the middle of my crib mattress. “But there are fun alternatives for us girls.” She opened the long zipper that went all the way around, until the back section flopped open to reveal a bulging brown paper bag, a used tube of ointment, and some flat silver packets. “I thought of this when we had sex education classes last term at school.” She picked up the brown paper bag, held it high, and tilted it upside-down. A half-dozen dark-green zucchinis tumbled across the change mat, and I stared at the smooth-skinned marrows in wide-eyed surprise. Connie’s grin was positively wicked when she demanded, “Which one of these zucchinis most reminds you of David, baby girl?”

My tattooed eyebrows climbed up almost to my hairline, I was so shocked! But I couldn’t help mentally evaluating the firm tubular vegetables, and I pointed to the one that had a similar length and girth to my muscular young neighbour’s massive erect penis. Connie grinned and nodded in apparent agreement. “Yeah, that’s what I thought, too.” She picked up the eight-inch long marrow and wrapped her fist around it, and her thumb and middle finger barely overlapped. She obviously had bigger hands than me. “Yep, that’s about the right size,” she expertly estimated, but then she frowned and shook her head in disappointment. “A nice big cock - but attached to a very inadequate, stupid little boy,” was her harsh but fair estimation. She dropped the zucchini and picked up the half-empty white tube, and held it out so I could read the label - ‘KY lubricant’. “Lube,” she briefly explained. She dropped the crumpled tube on the change mat and picked up one of the silver foil packets. “Condoms - you can buy both these things at any supermarket.”

She ripped open the foil wrapper with her large white teeth and withdrew a slimy rubber thing that looked like an uninflated large balloon. “This is a condom - which every boy must wear on his penis before you let him have sex with you. If it’s not on – it’s not on! Understand?” I nodded, watching with wide eyes as Connie unfurled the greasy transparent amber condom like an empty sausage sack. She picked up the discarded ‘David-size’ marrow, held it up with the fatter end upright, and threaded it inside the rubber ring. “Condoms prevent you catching any diseases and stop you from getting pregnant.” She leaned one hip against the side of my crib and laughed raucously. “Although I don’t think that last one would be a problem for you, baby girl!”

I watched in fascination as she wrapped her fingers around the phallic marrow and rolled the slimy lubricated condom down over the long green vegetable. It looked like Connie was giving the zucchini a hand-job, and I abruptly wished she would demonstrate her erotic technique on my rampant twitching tool. She didn’t stop till the sheer latex sheath was completely unrolled, and the floppy rubber ring at the end dangled past the stalk end of the marrow. She held it up with one hand and pointed to the remaining zucchinis scattered on the change mat with the other. “Okay, baby. You pick one, and show me how you put a condom on it.” I reluctantly released my pounding hard-on and chose a more modest specimen; about half-way between David’s monster and my tiny erect tool. Connie nodded in approval and handed me a silver foil packet. It took me several attempts to tear the wrapping open with my teeth. “It’s not as easy as it looks,” she giggled, when I struggled to unroll the slimy condom and feed it over the bulbous end of my chosen marrow.

I finally managed to stuff the vegetable inside the floppy prophylactic, and then Connie showed me her method of rolling it down using her fist. “That’s it, baby,” she advised me, as I ineptly masturbated my vegetable, feeling my cheeks warm with embarrassment at my clumsiness. “Keep unrolling it, till it’s all the way to the bottom. Good girl,” she praised me, when I successfully completed my task. She threw the unlucky remaining zucchinis back in the brown paper bag, scooped up the unused silver packets of condoms, and swept everything into her nylon backpack and zipped it mostly closed. Suddenly her expression turned serious, and she held up that warning finger again. “Now listen to me, little girl. You can’t ever tell your Mummy or Daddy about this. Understand?” I nodded obediently, unsure exactly what she was talking about. “This will be our little secret. Just between you and me. Alright?”

There was a familiar ring to those words and I started in fear. David had said exactly the same thing to me after he took advantage of me last week. But I felt sure Connie only had the best of intentions for me. I relaxed and nodded in compliance while continuing to slowly massage my swollen hard-on. The toothily-grinning brunette dropped her pink backpack to the floor and grinned salaciously at me as she cheekily raised her pleated tennis skirt around her pudgy hips. I watched entranced as she reached underneath with both hands and tugged down her silky white nylon panties. When they puddled around her bare feet, she stepped clear of the frilly knickers and crawled into my cot.

Connie sat back facing me, leaning against the wooden panel at the foot end of my crib, our bare feet almost touching. She lifted the hem of her tiny pleated skirt up to her tummy, flexed her knees, and then boldly spread her smooth tanned thighs. I stared at the milk-white flesh normally concealed from the sun by her bikini bottom, enraptured by the sight of her exposed womanhood. I was fascinated by the inch-wide, furry brown strip that concealed her nether lips from my view. It looked like a tiny fuzzy landing strip for butterflies. As Connie tilted her hips up and opened her legs wider, I could see the darker opening of her delicate slit, from her pale perineum up to where it disappeared in the furry tangle of her dark-brown bush.

She noticed the direction of my intense gaze and giggled in amusement when she demanded, “Are you really sure you want to be a girl, Baby Jennie?” When I earnestly nodded, she leaned forward and slapped my hand away from my pounding tool. She grabbed it instead, wrapping her fist around my throbbing shaft and making me moan with pleasure. “Are you really, really sure?” When I gasped and nodded again, she squeezed my clittie harder and informed me; “They’ll have to cut this thing off, you know?”

This time I gasped in shock. “What?” I demanded in horror. “They have to cut off my clittie?” She giggled at my use of such a feminine name for my inadequate male appendage.
“Yes, darling. That’s what they have to do to turn boys into girls. The doctors have to cut it off, and that ugly little nut-sack, too.” She released her thrilling grip on my pulsating tool and derisively flicked my sensitive wrinkled sack. I defensively cupped both hands over my genitals, making her laugh again.

“How do you know?” I fearfully asked, and shuddered at her ready response.
“My two older sisters are both nurses, and one works in the theatre. You know, the surgical theatre. She told me all about it. They cut off your… you know, your clittie, and peel it. Then they drill a hole between your legs, and use the skin from your clittie to form a new vagina inside you.”
“Ouch!” I mumbled, cringing at the imagined pain and frowning at the horrible thought. For one terrible moment, my swollen clittie started to deflate in fear.

When she saw my horrified expression, Connie tried to reassure me. “They knock you out first, silly! You know? Apparently after you heal it can be just as sensitive to the touch - except inside-out. And they use the left-over skin from your empty nut-sack to make a pretty pair of pussy lips, like mine,” she informed me, placing her left hand between her legs and using her fingers to gently pry open her delicate pink slit. My shrinking clittie instantly grew rock-hard again. I gave it a few reassuring squeezes as I stared in wonder at the hidden treasure between her legs. “Let go of your clittie, baby, and pick up your zucchini,” she ordered. Connie picked up her condom-covered marrow with her right hand and held it up in front of me. She flipped open the cap of the tube of lube with her left thumb and squeezed out a dollop of clear gel onto the fat end of her chosen vegetable. “Oops!” she giggled, as the watery lubricant began to run down one side. She twirled the marrow around and tilted it sideways, and then expertly twisted it from side to side, making sure there was a thin layer of slippery gel covering most of the condom.

She reached over and indicated I should hold up my condom-wrapped vegetable. When I timidly presented it to her, she squirted a measure of clear lubricating gel on the fat top of mine, too. “Gotta use lube,” she reminded me with a cheeky grin, as she snapped the cap closed and dropped the tube into the top of the open backpack lying on the floor. “Now watch me, Baby Jennie.” I stopped twirling my dripping zucchini when she poked the wet end of hers between her splayed legs. My eyes went wide when she used the fingers of her left hand to gently pry open her pussy lips. She delicately threaded the greasy condom-covered end between her engorging genitals, then sighed appreciatively as she rubbed the slick coating up and down the length of her retracting outer labia. The fat end slipped an inch inside her dilating opening. “Oh baby!” she moaned, “that feels so good! Mmm!”

I lay back and opened my little legs wide too, raising my knees and trying to stare down between my cheeks at my hidden rosebud. I raised my gaze when Connie swapped hands, using her left to slowly pump the huge fake phallus ever deeper in and out of her hole. The slippery fingers of her right hand moved an inch higher to massage her throbbing clitoris.

“Ohhh!” Connie groaned, clamping down on her plump red bottom lip with her prominent overbite, her eyes scrunched closed and her pretty face contorted in passion. “Try it, baby,” she urged me in a thick and throaty voice. Then her big brown eyes popped open, glowing with concern. “You don’t have to, you understand? Only if you want to…” I nodded my understanding and lifted my sack with my right hand, and obediently steered the condom-covered end of the zucchini between my cheeks with my left. I carefully rubbed the lube-coated knob around my tender back door, blindly massaging my puffy opening with the tip of firm slick marrow.

“That’s it, darling,” Connie purred encouragingly. “Put it in your pussy. It feels just like a big hard cock! You’ll like it, I promise.” It felt good holding the slippery rounded end against my naughty little hole, and I used both hands to direct the tip of my pretend-cock up and inwards.
I twirled it around as I pressed more firmly against my sweet sensitive opening, and my mouth dropped open and my eyes flew wide. “Ohhh!” Like Connie, I gasped from a combination of surprise and pleasure when my well-used sphincter obligingly dilated to my delicate probing touch. The fat end of my marrow slipped a few thrilling inches inside me, stretching me open. I released my ball sack and clutched my pulsating clittie instead, and Connie laughed at the changing expressions on my face.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” When I blushed furiously and nodded, she continued in a husky voice, “If you warm them in the microwave first for a few seconds, they really feel like the real thing, too. So hot and hard…. Mmmm…” Connie mumbled appreciatively, then broke off to concentrate on sliding the fat monster deeply in and out of her squelching wet hole. She used the tips of her right index and middle fingers to feverishly massage her erect love button at the same time. I recognised the familiar circling pattern of her bright red nails. “Oh yeah, it feels so good!” she groaned. “Ohhh! So good… Aaahhh!”

Her red painted mouth gaped wide when she rammed the thick hard vegetable all the way inside her greedy opening. I similarly lay back and thrust my pretend-cock all the way in and out of my sluttish back door, moaning at the intensely pleasurable sensations. Some of the lube ended up on my other hand, which pounded up and down the length of my throbbing tool as I watched my naughty babysitter masturbate towards a shuddering climax.

“So good…. So good,” she babbled mindlessly. Her mouth opened wide again and her sensuous top lip peeled back to reveal her protruding buck teeth. “Oohhhhh!” Connie licked her painted lips that had suddenly gone dry. She watched my frantic efforts to match her thrusts through sleepy half-closed eyelids. Her tits seemed to grow bigger before my eyes, and I could see her stiffening nipples poking out through the thick cotton sports bra and her tight singlet top. When she slid the monster tool most of the way out of her slick vagina, her outer lips clung to the sides like a hungry mouth unwilling to let go. When she pushed it back in, her delicate rose-pink inner labia disappeared completely. Her knees began to tremble and she let her legs flop obscenely wide. She started making these sharp panting noises that drove me wild with excitement. “Does it feel good, Baby Jennie?’ Connie demanded between impassioned grunts, and I furiously nodded in agreement.

“Goo-goo-goo-good!” I finally managed to breathlessly mumble around the rubber teat clenched between my teeth, intent on bringing myself to orgasm. She laughed brightly, her big brown eyes opening wide to hazily stare at me for a few seconds.
“You sound like a real baby when you talk like that,” she giggled breathlessly. “Say that again.” She thrust the zucchini more rapidly in and out of her sloshing wet hole as I willingly complied.

“Goo-goo ga-ga goo-goo!” I babbled like a mindless infant, hamming it up for her. Her eyelids clamped tightly shut for a few moments, and then her big brown eyes flew impossibly wide. I could see the whites all the way around her chocolate-brown irises.
“Oh! Oh! Oohhh!” Connie squealed loudly in the heat of passion. I hoped my sister wouldn’t hear her excited yelps of joy. The voluptuous brunette’s swirling fingers danced in frantic circles over her swollen clit as she shoved the huge green monster all the way inside her voracious pussy, and then she violently climaxed. For a moment, I thought the condom-covered marrow had disappeared completely inside her body. Connie clamped her thighs together and sat up straight, as though to drive it in all the way to the hilt. She inhaled deeply and held her breath until her face turned red, and then released it in a loud explosive cry. “Aaarghh!”

“Ga-ga-ga, goo-goo-goo… Ga-ga! Ga-ga!” I babbled excitedly as the wonderful sensations threatened to overwhelm me. My sphincter muscles wrapped tight around the solid marrow I had jammed up my sensitive puffy anus, like a firm log of poo that never ended. My lubricated fist was a blur sliding up and down the length of my throbbing swollen shaft. I could feel the bad baby juice surging up from my balls, progressing along the tube inside my swollen clittie, ready to explode all over me. “Goo-goo! Ga-ga! Ga-ga-goo-goo-goo,” I gasped in excitement, throwing myself into my baby role with gay abandon.

Connie’s sleepy brown eyes lazily drifted open, and she wore a secretive self-satisfied smile on her face as she relaxed back against the foot end of my crib. I watched her trembling tanned thighs float apart again. The condom-covered marrow gradually oozed out of her relaxed open vagina, like a shiny fat turd slowly sliding out of a greasy wet poo-poo hole. That was the thought that drove me over the edge. She watched in wry amusement as the creamy jism exploded from the tip of my pulsating clittie, shooting up over my tummy and chest, some even splashing me in the face. I squealed in ecstasy. “Ga-ga-ga! Ga-ga-ma-ma!”

“That’s it, baby girl! Milk it all out while you babble like a baby. That’s it, go on,” she throatily encouraged me with that sultry, toothy half-smile. “Make those cute little baby noises for me.”
“Ga-ba! Ga-goo-ga-ba-ba! Ga-baaahhh!” I cried, the nonsense syllables making me feel even more like a helpless little baby and pushing me to new heights of arousal. My anal ring contracted violently as I climaxed, ejecting the smooth-skinned marrow from my slippery hole like a shot from a cannon. “Ma-maaa!” My dum-dums fell from my gaping mouth as I uncontrollably exploded from both ends.

I squealed at the combined pleasurable sensations of pooping and cumming simultaneously, feeling like a totally helpless baby. The creamy baby juice continued to pulse out of the end of my clittie while excess lube dribbled wetly out of my slackened sphincter. “Ga-ga, goo-goo, ga-ga-ma-ma! Ma-ma!” My incoherent rambling slowly dried up as I helplessly shuddered and twitched to completion, my little legs writhing and thrashing on the change mat like an overexcited infant’s.

We lay there for a few minutes trying to catch our breath, and then Connie began to quietly giggle. I opened my eyes and peered at her in confusion, but she wasn’t laughing at me - just with relief. When she noticed I was staring at her, she demanded in a lazy husky drawl; “Was that good, baby? Did my little girl like that?”
“Ga-ga-goo!” I cheekily replied, my tired but satisfied smile making her giggle once more. There was sticky white goo all over my hand when I inspected my trembling fingers, and Connie gave my suddenly disgusted expression a grunt of acknowledgement as she sat up.

She slid across the crackling change mat and nimbly hopped out of the cot, leaving her juicy condom-clad zucchini lying in a damp patch at her end. My own well-used marrow lay between my spread thighs in a similar dirty puddle of glistening lube. “Let me get some baby wipes for you, little girl.” Her derisive giggles grew louder when she returned to examine the mess I had made of myself. “Look at you, little girl! You’ve got cum everywhere! What a messy baby girl,” Connie gently scolded me.

I peered down at myself and saw Connie was right! There was bad baby juice splattered on my tummy, over my chest, and all around my shrivelling genitals. I thought, ‘It’s so much easier when I do my cummies inside my warm wet nappies. No clean-up required!’ She grabbed a handful of moist baby wipes from the plastic tub on the shelf over the change table, and when she returned, she wiped up my warm sticky mess with motherly concern. Connie cleaned my hands and my shrinking clittie, and kindly wiped up the bad baby juice on my tummy and chest. “Lift your chin up, baby girl.” She giggled as she carefully scrubbed some goo from my cheek and neck. “You even got some on your face!”

Connie disappeared into the bathroom and when she returned a few minutes later, she was carrying a steaming wet washcloth. As she wiped clean my languid body like an attentive mother, I noticed she was wearing a fresh pair of the thin latex gloves. Despite having recently climaxed, my sensitive shrunken clittie twitched with arousal at the sight. “Lift your little botty for me, sweetheart,” she crooned, and she tenderly wiped my puffy pink hole clean, too, carefully scrubbing my raised cheeks and then between my legs when I gratefully lowered my rear. When she felt sure I was perfectly clean, she tossed the washcloth aside and delicately picked up the dirty zucchini from between my splayed thighs with her gloved fingertips. “Let’s tidy these up first,” she muttered as she collected her own sticky vegetable from the damp spot at her end of the change mat. Connie walked back into the bathroom, peeling the dirty condoms from the well-used marrows.

When she returned, she was carrying the dark-green vegetables in her bare hand and the bathroom bin in the other. “I rolled the condoms into a tissue and shoved them in the bin,” she informed me, “so your Mummy won’t find them. Okay?” I nodded silently in reply, grateful for her wisdom. She held up the two zucchinis still warm from our bodies and dropped them in the bin. “I’ll empty this in the garbage bin outside. We certainly wouldn’t want to eat them now, would we?” I frantically shook my head in denial, and she giggled at her own silly question and left the bin standing beside the door to the landing.

She clapped her hands and then opened her arms invitingly wide as she returned to me. “Come on, baby girl!” she brightly urged me, and I couldn’t understand how she could seem so full of beans when I felt totally drained and exhausted. “It’s time to get you ready for bed.” I sighed heavily when she made me sit up and slide wetly towards the edge of my crib. Suddenly I felt too tired to move, and Connie had to half-carry, half-drag me over to the change table. I climbed up and lay back on the cool pink vinyl surface, letting my eyes drift closed while she bustled about preparing my night nappies. I felt something soft and recognisable press against my puffy pink lips, and they parted by reflex to accept the dummy-teat Connie gently thrust between them. I gratefully sucked on the firm amber teat, the turned-up pink plastic ring bobbing against the bottom of my nose in that familiar soothing way.

Connie went through the usual diapering routine with the minimum of instructions, seeming to realise that I was too worn out to be of much help. She wrapped my thick fluffy nappies around my loins and tightly pinned them over my hips, and then she threaded my limp feet into a yellow pair of crackling plastic panties, and pulled them over the top. She sat me up to slip a sheer yellow cotton baby doll nightgown over my head. I didn’t recognize the nightie, although it was very pretty. Connie had to feed my hands through the short puffy sleeves one at a time. I was too weary to help her, and watched through sleepy half-closed eyelids as she attached the decorative plastic clip of my dummy chain to the lace-edged collar of my nightie.

“No, no!” I grumbled weakly in protest, snatching my hand away when Connie attempted to slide one of the thin pink leather mittens over my limp fingers.
“Shhh, baby,” Connie softly warned me. “Shhh! Your Mummy said I had to put your baby mittens on your handy-pandies before I put you down for the night. Understand? She’ll be coming in to check on you in your crib when she comes home tonight, you know?” She frowned when I tried to pull my hand away again, and rebuked me in a sharper tone. “Baby Jennie! Stop that!” Her expression turned mournful when she demanded, “Don’t you want me to be your babysitter any more?”

I raised my head to stare into her questioning wide brown eyes. What did she mean? I shook my head in denial, mumbling, “No, no!” I desperately wanted Connie to keep babysitting me - especially after tonight!
“If your Mummy comes home tonight and finds you aren’t wearing your baby mittens to bed, she probably won’t let me babysit you ever again. Is that what you want?”

I frantically shook my head once more, automatically sucking louder and harder on my soothing dum-dums. “No Aunty Connie, no!” I protested, my bottom lip poking out in disappointment.
She gave me a small smile of approval when I let her take my hand. “Alright then. Now curl up you fingers so I can get this on... Good girl! That’s it!” She buckled the thin white leather strap around my limp wrist, gave my bound fist a satisfied pat, and then reached for the other mitten on the shelf above the change table.

I was too tired to object further, and passively let Connie feed my other fist into the floppy pink mitten and buckle it around my slender wrist. “Good girl,” she praised me, when I let her do what she wanted. I groaned in dismay when she produced the two tiny brass padlocks, too. In moments, my humiliating baby mittens were irremovably locked in place. Connie held up my bound fists in front of my face and gave them a gentle shake as she chuckled, “I guess Mummy doesn’t want her naughty little baby girl playing with herself tonight. Hey baby?”

Connie sniggered at my disgruntled expression. She left me sitting on the change table while she removed the stained change mat from my crib. “I better toss this in the wash, too,” she muttered, as she folded the crackling plastic-backed mat into a neat bundle and dropped it in my nappy bucket. She placed the heavy nappy bucket next to the bin beside the door and returned to me, smiling toothily and holding out her hands in invitation. “Come on, baby girl. Let’s get you into bed.” Connie lifted me down and helped me stagger to my crib. She had to boost me up and roll me inside without any real assistance from me. I flopped on my back exhausted, my knees naturally splayed wide because of the bulk of fluffy material between my legs. I sucked noisily on my dum-dums as she raised the side rail until it locked in place. Connie collected her things and picked up the nappy bucket and the bin from the bathroom, and she disappeared downstairs for a few minutes. When she returned, she was carrying one of my humiliating frilly bibbies in one hand and a big pink baby bottle full of warm milk in the other.

“We just need to put this on you first, sweetheart.” This pale-pink bibbie bore the humiliating message, ‘Little Miss Squishy Britches.’ Connie tucked my bottle upright against the headboard beside my pillow, reached through the pink steel bars, and then lifted my head so she could slip the bib around my neck and clip it in place. “Here darling,” she crooned, as she plucked out my dummy and replaced it with the dripping teat of my bottle. “Have a little drink from your bottle. I know you must be thirsty. Good girl.” I gratefully sucked down a mouthful of warm sweet milk, thanking her with my eyes and giving her a tired smile.

Connie held the end of my bottle for me like a loving mother, smiling toothily in encouragement until I had drained almost half of it. Then she took my mittened hands and made me clumsily clasp the emptying plastic vessel by myself. “That’s it, baby. Hold your own bottle like a good little girl. That’s it.” She unclipped my dummy chain from the collar of my nightie and attached it to the wide white lace collar of my frilly bibbie instead. I let the warm bottle rest comfortably on my chest, sleepily slurping on the rubber teat. Connie eased the fuzzy pink blanket over my exhausted body and then gently patted my bouncing blonde curls, crooning softly to me in nonsense baby-talk until I fell into a heavy dreamless sleep.

To be continued in chapter 32.
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Baby Jennie

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.

If you are enjoying this lengthy sissy-baby story, please take a few seconds to post a comment after reading this chapter. I'm desperate for some feedback from my sissy-baby readers.
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.

Synopsis. Justine gives Baby Jennie a lovely feed from her breasts at the Church Nursery. After breakfast at their favourite local restaurant, Isabell takes her little girls home for a nap before the Fairy Princess party.

Chapter 34. Feeding Time for Baby

“Look, baby girl,” Justine lovingly cooed to me as she pinched the swollen glistening bud between her thumb and forefinger. She squeezed the erect nipple hard, making me wince. My blue eyes grew wider when I saw two, then three tiny milky droplets appear on the bumpy russet tip. She released her tortured nipple and proudly cupped her sagging breast with her palm. “Look darling! Aunty Justine’s got milk for you, baby.” I thought it was impossible for a girl to produce milk unless she’d had a baby first. But contrary evidence was seeping out right before my eyes, and I wasn’t about to argue! She dried my tear-stained cheeks with my frilly bibbie first, then smoothed the humiliating baby napkin back over my trembling breast.

Justine smiled down at me like a doting mother when she raised my head with her cupped palm, and she steered the dripping nipple towards my open mouth with the splayed fingers of her other hand. “Come on, darling,” she tenderly urged me. “We can pretend that I’m your mummy and you’re my little baby, and mummy is going to give her sweet little baby girl a lovely long feed from her titties.” Her fragrant creamy boob completely filled my field of view and I could even smell her milk - an intriguingly familiar sweet-sour smell which strangely repelled me as much as it attracted me. “It’s feeding time for baby.” I reluctantly closed my eyes and concentrated on sucking the swollen milky nipple deeply into my mouth. “That’s it, baby girl,” she shakily crooned, shuddering with arousal. “Come feed from mummy.”

Her milk tasted thin, watery and sweet, but I latched onto her dripping teat like a starving infant. At first it was difficult to suck out a decent mouthful, but after a couple of minutes, I seemed to establish a rhythm. I gently pumped her firm warm breast with my fingertips, either side of her areole, and suddenly my mouth almost filled with every hard suck. I wanted to ask Justine how she did it; how she managed to produce milk without having had a baby? But there was no way I was going to let that sweet morsel of woman flesh out of my mouth long enough to interrogate my beautiful redheaded wet-nurse. Instead I focused on feeding properly like a hungry little baby, sucking hard and gently pumping out the nourishment with my curled fingers. I simultaneously thrust my hard clittie into my warm wet nappy, pressing up against the palm she had thoughtfully cupped over the slithering pink nylon front of my plastic-lined rumba panties.

“Oh good girl! Good baby,” Justine lovingly cooed down at me, pressing down more firmly over my straining erection. She drew in a deep breath and released it in a shuddering sigh. “God! I love it when you suck hard like that,” she whispered in a low throaty voice, squeezing my stiffie through the multiple damp layers to encourage me. “Mmm, what a hungry baby girl you are! Ooo, that’s right, Baby Jennie. Good baby! Suck nice and hard for mummy, my pretty little baby girl. Fill your tummy with mummy’s sweet milk.” Encouraged by her softly crooned words, I drew even harder on the sensitive erectile tissue, drawing her swollen russet cap deeply into my mouth and making her groan with unrestrained pleasure.

“Ohh! That’s it, baby! Oh yes! Suck out the milk from mummy’s titty like a good little baby girl,” she whispered to me like I was her own precious infant. “Mmm, good baby! Oohh!” I could feel Justine rubbing and pressing her thighs together under my head, and her cupped palm began to thrillingly slide up and down over the tenting front of my rumba panties. She began to squeeze me through the multiple layers of warm damp cloth and I burbled wetly in excitement, watery milk dribbling down my cheek.

“Keep feeding, baby,” she cautioned me in honeyed tones. When I obediently drew her squirting nipple deeper into my mouth, the erotic squeezes around my rampant clittie grew firmer and faster. “Drink down all of mummy’s milk. Mmm, that’s it, baby. Keep swallowing. Drink it all up. Mmm, good girl!” I settled into a rhythm again for another wondrous minute or two, sucking then swallowing, sucking then swallowing, encouraged by the sweet supportive sounds she kept making and her fabulous thrilling caresses. I began to pump her softening breast more firmly when the flow of warm milk eventually slowed and then stopped, until Justine actually winced away from me in pain.

“Ouch! Hang on a second, baby.” She regrettably released my clittie and I felt her fumbling with the other lace-edged bra cup for a few seconds. With my face pressed deeply into her warm soft bosom, I couldn’t really see anything. Justine didn’t bother asking me to stop sucking. She merely slipped the saliva-wet tip of her index finger into the corner of my mouth, breaking the seal of my lips around her sweet succulent nipple.

I distractedly sucked on the wet tip of her finger for a few unsatisfying moments, tasting her nail polish and mewling in disappointment. Justine used her finger to cleverly steer my pouting pursed lips to her other erect russet nipple. She popped out her finger and slipped her left teat into my mouth in its place, and this time the ready spray of warm milk was easier to draw out. “Oh baby girl,” Justine moaned when I latched on, her low voice husky with passion. “Suck nice and hard for mummy, darling. Ooo! Have a lovely big feed. That’s mummy’s good little baby girl!” The act of breastfeeding caused her supply of milk to let down in the other firm swollen teat, and I revelled in the steady flow of warm sweet nourishment trickling down my throat to fill my little tummy. I made some happy little grunting noises that made Justine giggle, and I could hear her fleshy chest reverberate with the odd sound of her muffled laughter.

The buxom redhead drew in a deep breath and held it, and then slowly released it in a long shuddering sigh. I could feel her rubbing her thighs together more briskly under my head and she began making these tiny whimpering noises deep in her throat. I cautiously opened my left eye and peeked around her massive creamy mammary, and stared up at her beautiful face. Her eyes were scrunched closed and her perfect arched eyebrows pulled together above her pert wrinkled nose in the semblance of a frown. Her full pink lips were drawn back in the rictus of a smile, revealing her small, even white teeth. “Ohh! Oh God!” For a fraction of a second I thought I might have been hurting her, but then I recognised the flushed-faced teen’s throaty moans of pleasure. “Oh! Oh! Ohhh!” Justine groaned, biting her sensuous bottom lip with her top teeth and tossing back her head. Her waist-length mane of dark red head flew back over her bare shoulders and she thrust out her voluptuous bosom as though to force more of her sensitive swollen teat into my greedily suckling mouth.

Justine gripped my pulsating clittie through the warm wet cloth and squeezed me fiercely. I moaned loudly at the thrilling sensations. “Don’t stop, baby! Don’t stop,” she whispered urgently. “Keep sucking mummy’s nipple just like that. Drink up all of mummy’s milkies like a good little baby girl. Ooo! Oh baby! Mmm, that feels so good!” I pumped the sides of her heavy swollen teat with my fingertips like a hungry kitten using its paws, drawing the firm squirting nipple halfway down my throat. Justine quivered and moaned in pleasure/pain, pressing her creamy thighs even harder together and rocking her hips backwards and forwards on the tatty grey lounge. “Mmm, baby,” she muttered throatily, “mummy loves it when you suck hard like that. Oh yes! Ooo! Ohhh!” She clamped my head against her chest, almost mashing my face into her sweaty bosom in her excitement.

I emptied my lungs through my nose, drew in a deep snuffling breath, and sucked for all I was worth. My tummy made some funny squiggly noises and suddenly I felt some ominous movement in my bowels. Urgent signals from my lower abdomen told me there was a poo-poo that needed to come out - and soon! I tried to pull my face away and grunted in alarm, but only managed to spray watery milk everywhere. I recognised the danger signs of an impending bowel movement and I wanted to warn Justine that I needed to use the potty. She simply clutched my face tighter against her slippery wet mammary and huskily ordered, “Don’t you dare stop now!” Her erotic manipulation of my throbbing clittie abruptly ceased, and I mewled wetly in disappointment and obediently returned to busily breastfeeding. “Keep sucking, baby girl,” she commanded, and she wormed her right hand under the snug elastic waistband of my frilly rumba panties to encourage me.

I sucked even harder and moaned in arousal when her wiggling fingers deftly slid inside my warm wet nappy. She chuckled throatily and murmured in a gentle teasing tone, “Ooo! Who’s a wet little baby girl then?” My excitement knew no bounds when her soft fingers wrapped around my pulsating clittie and she gripped me possessively in her warm moist hand. She was actually touching my clittie! This gorgeous girl was caressing my raging erection and my excitement knew no bounds! My knees drew up almost by reflex, and my little feet mindlessly thrashed about when she began sliding her curled fist up and down over the slippery wet head of my throbbing tool.

Her sexy voice grew husky once more when she lovingly whispered, “I know what’s wrong, baby. It’s okay, darling. Mummy knows stuff needs to come out.” I thought in amazement, ‘How could she tell I needed to do a poo-poo? Had Justine heard the warning gurgles from my tum-tums?’ “But that’s okay, baby,” she murmured. “You just let it go. Come on, baby. Show mummy how you let it all go in your nappy like a perfect little baby girl.”

I drew her dripping nipple most of the way down my throat and sucked for all I was worth. At the same time I obediently relaxed my useless straining sphincter. I concentrated on Justine’s erotic manipulations and her sweet crooning voice, and suddenly her expert caresses were pushing me closer to the edge. I realised I was living my dream. It was a fantasy come true! I really felt like a loved little baby girl at that moment. I felt like I was shrinking till my body was the same size as a real baby’s. I was a real baby lovingly being breastfed by her gorgeous caring mummy. I helplessly pushed out a big poopy load in my nappy while mummy tickled my clittie and cooed down encouragingly at me.

My whole body began to tremble as I flexed my hips and knees, thrashing my feet in the air as I focused on simultaneously filling my nappy and feeding from mummy’s breasts like a good little baby girl. Justine fell silent as she concentrated on pressing her upper thighs together in that special way, grinding together her swollen engorged pussy lips inside her damp satin panties. Then she began making those familiar excited grunting sounds that only inflamed my passions. “Unh! Unh-uh-ungg!”

‘I’m a baby girl, I’m a baby girl,’ I chanted in my head. ‘I’m just a helpless little baby girl and mummy loves me, and mummy is breastfeeding me, and- and- Ga-ga-ga! Ga-ba-baa!’ I babbled in my mind like the tiny helpless infant I imagined myself to be. Justine was shivering all over and her soft fleshy lap began bouncing up and down. She was moaning with arousal and mashing my face so hard against her emptying breast, I found it difficult to breathe. But breathing was the furthest thing from my mind at that moment.

As her fingers tickled the sensitive underside of my pulsating clittie, bright lights began to flash in my head even though my eyelids were tightly scrunched closed and my face was crammed against her heaving breast. The shuddering redhead stretched her head right back as though to gaze at some fixed point on the ceiling, but her eyes remained tightly closed when she groaned, “Ooo! Ooo! Ooohhh!” Her cheeks were flushed and her pink lips had turned red. A thin film of sweat formed above her curled top lip as she gasped and twitched in the throes of her intense orgasm.

Although the velvety fist wrapped around my clittie held me in a grip of iron, the palm cupped against the back of my head abruptly relaxed. I clutched her emptying dug with both hands to stop my head from rolling back onto her shivering lap. I almost bit down on her teat to prevent it being ripped from my slobbering mouth as I felt my pulsating tool exploding into her clenched fist. I moaned and thrashed my legs as I violently climaxed, feeling another thrilling surge of hot waste simultaneously filling the seat of my warm wet nappy. Justine’s head and shoulders slumped and she relaxed her grip on my pulsating shaft, instead running her fingertips over the spurting eye and across the sensitive spot on the underside of the head. She giggled from a combination of relief and amusement, watching me writhe and shudder to completion in her fingers as she collapsed back against the worn grey cushions.

Justine pressed her left fingertip into the corner of my mouth, breaking my suction seal on her sweet seeping nipple. She gave a cry of relief when my hungry mouth fell away with a loud wet ‘plop!’ My head collapsed back onto her lap and I couldn’t tell whose body was trembling more with reaction - mine or hers. I swallowed the last few drops of her milk feeling like a happy little baby girl, and I gurgled contentedly. “Ga-ga-ga goo-goo-goo!” My beautiful wet-nurse chuckled throatily at my infantile babbling as she pulled her slimy hand out from beneath my wet cum-stained nappy.

The panting teenager slid her gooey fingers inside the waistband of my rumba panties and she wiped her digits mostly clean on the relatively-dry outer front of my nappy. The breathless redhead gazed down fondly at me and wiped my messy milk-smeared chin and cheeks with my frilly bibbie. She smiled tenderly down at me as I twitched spastically across her lap for another minute or two. When she judged I had finished, Justine leant down and gently kissed me on my parted pink lips. “Thank you, baby girl,” she whispered, and her big brown eyes glowed with affection for me.

I stared into those limpid chocolate pools, my big blue eyes fluttering wide in surprise. Justine was thanking me? Thanking me for fulfilling one of my greatest fantasies? I could hardly believe my ears! “No, Aunty Juthtine! Fank you! Fank you berry berry much!” I gratefully panted in response. “But how?” I mumbled in confusion, nodding at her bountiful breasts. “How come you have milk? You haven’t had a baby?” Justine carefully wiped her milk-stained teats with my bibbie first, then clipped her pink bra cups back in place. She gave her drained breasts an erotic wiggle with her hands to settle them comfortably, and demurely raised the zip of her clinging white dress all the way to the base of her throat once more.

She chuckled at my curious question, and nodded. “That’s right, Baby Jennie! Normally your breasts fill up with milk when you get pregnant, and after you have the baby, your milk comes in. But that’s not the only way...” She dimpled attractively and reached across my limp frame, and she collected my huge pink baby bottle from the change bag. “Here, darling,” she cooed, as she steered the nipple towards my trembling puffy pink lips. “Have a little drink from your bottle, and I’ll tell you all about it.” Justine held my bottle for me and cradled me in her arms like a loving mummy, and I compliantly drew on the clear silicon teat. Even though I figured I had been feeding from Justine’s beautiful breasts for about fifteen or twenty fabulous minutes, my tummy wasn’t anywhere near full. And despite the fact that I had been drinking the whole time, my milky mouth felt cloying and strangely parched. I greedily swallowed mouthful after mouthful of the pleasant spearmint-flavoured water, and I stared up into my beautiful babysitter’s contented brown eyes as she lovingly gazed back down at me and explained.

“When Lucy was born, mum had still been breastfeeding Danni, right up to the time of delivery. Being a premmie, she needed the extra nourishment. When mum came home with the new baby, Danni tried to latch straight back on her breasts - but mum needed her milk for Lucy. We tried to switch Danni to the bottle, but at first she wouldn’t take it.” Justine smiled and her gaze turned inward, and I knew she was remembering a happy time. “I was twelve at the time, and my little boobies had already developed quite nicely. My nipples were puffy and sore, and kind of itchy a lot of the time. Even wearing a t-shirt seemed to irritate them sometimes. Anyway, I wasn’t wearing a top that morning, when mum called me into her bedroom and told me to get Danni out of the room. She was trying to feed Lucy, and Danni kept trying to attach herself to the other teat.” Justine giggled, “It was driving mum crazy! So I grabbed Danni off the bed and cuddled her against me as I carried her out of the room. By the time I reached my bedroom, she’d latched on to my titty!”

She gazed down tenderly at me, her big brown eyes glowing at the fond memory, patting my curls with one hand as she held the bottle to my suctioning lips with the other. “It felt amazing! I never realised that having a baby suck on your nipples could feel so good! Suddenly my nip-nips didn’t hurt anymore - it was as though this was what they were designed for - which I guess, they were.” She gave my head a shake when she giggled, “So that’s when it started. After that, I let Danni have a suck on my titties almost any time she wanted - which was like, at least three times per day. My breasts just grew and grew after that - which only encouraged me to keep doing it,” she confessed with a self-deprecating grin.

“I could hardly believe it when one day after P.E. at school a few months later, there was a tiny wet spot on the front of my t-shirt. It smelled kind of like sour milk when I sniffed my bra cup, and of course I recognised the smell. As soon as I got home I hid in the bathroom, stripped off my top and bra, and gave my titties a good hard squeeze.” She giggled and shook her head in dismay at her youthful ignorance. “I almost pissed my pants when a few drops of milk squirted out! When I questioned Danni, she told me she’d been getting a little bit of milk out of my titties for the last couple of weeks, every time I let her have a good suck. I didn’t mind, you understand?” She looked questioningly at me and I nodded, then she continued.

“Once mum explained to me what I’d done, I didn’t think it was so bad. She told me all it takes to bring a woman’s milk down was to let a baby suckle on a regular schedule for a month or two. Mum knew exactly what I’d done, and she was a bit cranky with me.” She sighed with only a hint of regret. “I had a terrific pair of C-cup breasts by that time.” She paused to glance down fondly at her proud bosom, and she hefted one large teat in her hand for emphasis. “They’re D-cups now,” she proudly stated. I nodded silently in admiration and she returned to her story.

“Anyway, I really didn’t want to make Danni stop feeding - even though mum told her she had to. I bought some little absorbent pads to stuff inside the cups of my bras, so I didn’t have to worry about leaky nip-nips any more. Whenever we had some alone-time together, I would let Danni have a good feed.” Justine laughed. “She’d still suck me dry three times a day if I let her, but these days I only let her latch on when she’s been especially good.” She laughed again, a happy tinkling sound that made me smile around the slurping nipple of my baby bottle. “Last week was particularly exciting for my Baby Danielle,” she whispered in my ear like it was a big secret. “I let her feed from my titties every day, three times a day, for the whole of last week - just so it would bring my milk back. Just so I would have lots and lots of lovely breast milk to feed my precious Baby Jennie this morning!” She smiled down affectionately at me and I basked in the sunshine of Justine’s love. I don’t know how long I lay there with my head in her lap, enraptured by her beauty, but I was ripped back to the present by the sound of air noisily sucking back into my bottle through the emptying nipple.

“Good girl,” Justine cooed in approval. “What a hungry, thirsty baby girl! You had a lovely feed, and you drank up all your bot-bot like a good little baby girl for mummy.” I beamed up contentedly at her. She tossed my empty bottle back inside Danielle’s change bag, wiped my damp face with my bibbie, and then lifted my head from her lap. She tried to help me stand, but I misunderstood her intent and automatically rolled off the lounge onto all fours. She hid her grin as she shakily climbed to her feet. After she straightened her clothing, she looped the handles of the change bag over one shoulder. She leaned down and affectionately swatted my out-thrust, perfectly-presented padded posterior. “Oh-oh!” Justine cried in alarm, when the waistband of my puffy air-filled panties loudly popped. A familiar stink wafted up from under my billowing petticoats.

“Wait a minute, baby,” she cautioned me. She flipped up the rear of my bunched pink cotton frock and chiffon petties over my back. Justine pulled the waistband of my baby panties away from the small of my back with her fingers, and bent down closer to my soggy bottom and sniffed loudly. “Oh-oh!” She gathered the waistband of my baby panties and my nappies together, and sneaked a peek inside the seat of my diaper. She let everything go with a loud sigh and an admonishing, “Oh baby!” Justine flipped my skirts back down and drew back to look at my face when she exclaimed, “Baby Jennie! Did you poop your nappy, little girl?”
My cheeks coloured with shame when I humbly confessed to helplessly soiling myself like a hopeless infant. “But Aunty Juthtine! You thaid I could! You told me to,” I weakly protested, unable to hold her accusing stare.

She laughed at my childishly lisped response and gently scolded me. “I most certainly did not tell you to poop your nappies, little girl!” When she saw my downcast expression, she relented. She gave my warm squishy bot-bot a firm soothing rub, smearing my sticky mess all over my trembling botty cheeks. “Oh well,” Justine muttered forgivingly, “mummy’s precious baby girl probably couldn’t help it. After all,” she reassured me, “she’s still just a little baby! Aren’t you, Baby Jennie?” I gazed up at her with a grateful smile and nodded, but the gorgeous redhead wasn’t finished with me just yet.

“You’re not too dirty, so mummy doesn’t need to change you right away.” Her rosy flushed cheeks developed deeper dimples when she whispered, “So my naughty baby girl can enjoy her messy wet nappies for a little while longer. Okay?” I nodded, wondering how she knew? I was distracted when she urged me on my way with a firm swat to my squishy rear end. “Go on, baby girl. Off you go,” she sweetly commanded. “Crawl outside and you can have a little play with Danielle and Lucy before your Mummy comes to collect you.” She walked ahead of me to open the door wide. She beamed down at me in approval as I shuffled past her on all fours to join the other pre-schoolers in the playroom.

“I want to hear you make some of those cute baby sounds while you’re crawling along, darling,” she coaxed me with a winning smile. I willingly obeyed her crooned maternal instructions.
“Ga-ga goo-goo-goo!” I easily responded around the fat rubber teat of my bobbing dum-dums. Her pleased smile warmed the cockles of my pounding heart.
She beamed and cooed, “Good baby girl! That’s mummy’s ‘Little Miss Squishy Britches’!”

Danielle and Lucy were sitting at the low plastic table in the corner again, with a collection of dolls scattered around the remaining chairs. I crawled over to them babbling in nonsense baby talk with a broadly-smiling Justine dogging my heels. While Danielle beamed down at my infantile appearance, her sister Lucy turned up her freckled nose and grimaced in disdain. Danielle couldn’t have been more welcoming, sweeping some teddies off the chair next to her and smiling invitingly at me.

The diapered five-year-old sweetly suggested, “Why don’t you come and sit up here next to me, Baby Jennie?” I gratefully clambered to my feet and immediately dropped into the low white plastic chair beside her. I couldn’t help enjoying the way my bottom slowly sank into the warm squishy pile inside my dirty wet nappy. It was like sitting in a puddle of warm thick mud, and I smiled contentedly at my new baby friend and giggled happily. Lucy’s scornful expression didn’t alter until she leaned over the table closer to me, and then she wrinkled her nose in disgust when she sniffed the rank aroma surrounding me.

“Juzzy!” Lucy exclaimed in consternation, looking up at her grinning big sister with wide accusing eyes and pointing at me. “She smells dirty!” Lucy leaned back in her chair and slid away from me in revulsion. “She pooped her nappy, didn’t she?” It was more a statement than a question and when the buxom redhead smirked and nodded, the offended creature demanded; “Why didn’t you change her after you gave her a feed? You can’t let her crawl around in a poopy nappy! That’s disgusting!” Lucy acidly commented, her top lip curled in a disdainful sneer. That’s when I realised both little girls must have known that their cheeky big sister planned to breastfeed me in the tea room. I didn’t know whether to be relieved or embarrassed by the unexpected revelation.

“Baby Jennie’s Mummy will be back soon,” Justine tried to excuse her unusual behaviour, “and I thought she might prefer to change her messy baby’s nappies by herself. You know?”
Lucy snorted sharply in disbelief and she thrust herself away from the white plastic table and jumped to her feet. “Well I’m not sitting here with those stinky babies! I’m going to play with someone more grown-up who doesn’t smell like poo-poos!” The annoyed four-year-old stormed off towards a group of pretty girls playing at the other end of the long room. I thought I recognised two of the girls from my last visit to the Church Nursery.

Justine frowned at the impudent hussy’s back when she bounded away from us. From my position on the floor I could see up Lucy’s dress. I caught a glimpse of her white cotton panties and pouted with envy. She was such a big grown-up girl. Justine shook her head in disappointment as she dropped Danielle’s change bag on the floor, resting it upright against the side of the low plastic table. When the buxom beauty turned back to us, she held up my empty bottle and she was all smiles again.

“Can I trust you baby girls to play nicely together for a few minutes?” she cooed to us like a loving parent. Her smile broadened when we both sucked harder on our dummy teats and silently nodded. “Good girls. I have to put Baby Jennie’s bottle back in her diaper bag, and check on some of the other toddlers,” Justine explained, and then she grinned mischievously. “Behave for mummy, girls, and I’ll be back soon.” She gave us a little farewell wave and strolled off towards my pink stroller, and I saw her stop to check a couple of kid’s nappies on the way.

I didn’t notice Lucy pointing out me and Danielle to her new friends. It was just as well I didn’t see the contemptuous sneer on her face when she told them all the about the diapered sissy babies playing with their dollies at the kiddie table. My new baby friend grinned at me from around the transparent red guard of her pacifier as she introduced me to some of her dollies. We spent the next twenty minutes happily playing with the hot-pink plastic tea set like two contented toddlers, chatting about our baby dolls and our Barbies like any normal little girls. I wanted to ask Danni loads of questions; about her baby girl dress-up play, and how she liked the taste of her sister’s breast milk - and how often she was allowed to breastfeed… But with so many other children wandering past every few seconds, the opportunity never arose.

Occasionally Danielle with sneak a sideways glance at me and gurgle, “Goo-goo ga-ga,” from around her dummy teat. We would both burst into uncontrollable girlish giggles.
“Ba-ba da-da goo-goo goo!” I mindlessly burbled some nonsense phrases back at her every few minutes too, keeping the cute little carrot-top in fits of high-pitched laughter. She seemed to find it more hilarious every time I did it, and I had to raise my voice towards the end, trying to make myself heard over her joyful squeals. “Ga-ga goo! Ga-goo! Goo-goo goo-goo ga-ga-goo!” I babbled loudly around the mouth-filling teat of my dum-dums. Danni’s laughter cut off with a strangled gurgle and she looked up in consternation. That was when I realised someone was standing close behind me. I tilted my chin up and looked back over my bouncing blonde curls.

Mummy was leaning over me with a grim smile and shaking her head in bemused disdain. “So we’re even babbling like a baby now,” she commented with a snort of derision. “That’d be right!” I wanted to tell her that Danni and I had just been fooling around playing babies, but I knew my protests would fall on deaf ears. Mummy helped me clumsily clamber my feet and when I staggered for balance she ordered sharply, “Try and stand still while Mummy checks your nappy, Baby Jennie.” My poopy wet nappy stuck moistly to my skin, the heavy warm cloth touching me like a sweet muddy kiss. From the disgusted expression marring Mummy’s pretty features when she raised my dress and petties, I think she could already smell I had messed myself.

She experimentally squeezed my warm wet crotch though my snug-fitting baby panties and shook her head in disappointment. She dropped the front of my skirts back in place and leaned back so she could examine my face while she chastised me. “Oh Baby Jennie!” Mummy remonstrated me in a voice loud enough to attract every eye in the room. Her cranky expression made me cringe in shame and embarrassment. “You’ve wet and dirtied your nappy again! That’s the second time you’ve pooped your panties this morning,” she cruelly reminded me. When my cheeks blazed crimson with shame, she nodded in heartless satisfaction.

I thought defensively, ‘The first time doesn’t count! I was asleep!’ I frowned sulkily at the injustice of her accusation.
Justine walked up behind Mummy and innocently asked, “Does your baby girl need a nappy change?” When my grim-faced Mummy nodded, she grinning redhead kindly offered, “I’ll do it if you like? I saw you brought some fresh nappies in Baby Jennie’s diaper bag for her.”
“Yes darling,” Mummy sighed mournfully in reply. “Can you fetch the change bag from baby’s stroller? Don’t worry Justine, I’ll change my naughty baby girl’s dirty nappy. She’s a very smelly baby girl this morning. Things could get a bit messy.”

After Justine handed her my pink gingham change bag, Mummy waved away the helpful teen’s repeated offer of assistance. She sternly ordered me to crawl into the tea room ahead of her. Justine followed us at a discrete distance and she stood in the open doorway observing with her arms folded under her generous bust. My stony-face mother ordered me to climb onto the rustling white change mat she spread out on the old grey sofa. Mummy swiftly stripped away my rumba panties and removed my dirty wet nappy without bothering to give me any instructions, talking down to me and treating me like the silly babbling infant she had discovered playing outside.

There was poo stuck to me everywhere when she peeled away my sticky smelly nappy. Mummy grimaced in disgust when she had to try and collect the disposable liners without smearing excrement all over her fingers. I worried she might have found some evidence of my spectacular climax in the front of my nappy, and fear helped keep my tiny tool flaccid. But I guess I must have washed the bad baby juice away when I did more wetties, because she didn’t seem to notice anything except the smelly brown mess smeared between my cheeks.

It took her ages to clean my messy bot-bot with moist baby wipes. She spent several minutes carefully scrubbing my limp clittie, which thankfully didn’t stir from its well-satisfied slumber. Once the filthy liners, soaker pad, and brown-stained wipes were tied into a nappy sack, she rolled up my poopy wet nappies and tied them in a used plastic shopping bag. At least that reduced the stench to a bearable level, although Mummy clucked her tongue in irritation when she washed her hands at the nearby sink. A heavy coating of baby powder over my loins filled the room with that familiar comforting sweet fragrance, and Mummy briskly rubbed in the silky talc. In minutes I was pinned into a fresh pair of bulky pink nappies, and my frilly plastic-lined rumba panties were forcibly tugged over the top without any assistance from me.

Mummy took my hand and helped me to stand. She thankfully let me walk out of the room instead of making me crawl. I gratefully clutched her fingers and tried not to wobble all over the place when I clumsily waddled after her, my little legs splayed wide by the mass of fluffy cloth between my thighs. “It looks like we didn’t need the frozen spoon today,” Mummy muttered to Justine, as we shuffled past her in the hallway outside the tea room doorway. Justine simply smiled and nodded. “Goodbye Justine, and thanks for taking care of my little girls,” Mummy added.

After she walked by, my grinning babysitter gave me a discrete wink and a meaningful nod. I shyly smiled back at her from around the pink guard of my dum-dums. The huge room was almost empty now, with only a handful of kids remaining to be picked up. I waved farewell to Danielle when Mummy dragged me straight towards my pink stroller without giving me any time to say goodbye to my new girlfriend, and she turned me around and lifted me into the low candy-striped canvas seat. Mummy swiftly buckled the pink nylon restraining straps in place and turned my stroller around, and I could see Angelica was already waiting impatiently for us beside the heavy oak door.

“Goodbye, Mrs R. Goodbye girls,” Justine called after our retreating backs. “See you next week.” I raised my hand and waved bye-bye behind me before Mummy pushed me outside. She wheeled my stroller through the almost empty car park towards her white Toyota Camry, and I lay back basking in the beautiful morning sunshine. Angelica trotted alongside us, holding the stroller with one hand and prattling enthusiastically to Mummy about what a fun time she had playing with her girlfriends in the Church Nursery. Mummy buckled me into my Disney Princess car seat first, locked my door, and then folded up my stroller and dumped it in the boot. She slammed the lid closed and walked around the other side to check on my sister. Mummy looked delighted when she found Angie had already climbed into her car seat and correctly fastened her own seat belt, and she soundly praised her. “Good girl Angelica! What a big girl you are now, doing up your seat belt all by yourself! You are such a clever big girl! Mummy is so proud of you!”

Angelica beamed contentedly all the way to our favourite restaurant. After Mummy parked a few doors down the block, I had to wait impatiently in my juvenile restraints while Angie climbed out by herself and helped Mummy set up my stroller again. I anxiously bit down on my dummy-teat, cringing in shame when I realised Mummy wasn’t going to let me toddle even the short distance down the street to the tables inside. Although to be honest, with these brand-new fluffy nappies bunched between my wide-splayed thighs, I wasn’t sure if I could comfortably waddle that far either. The elderly manager called out a greeting to us when Mummy wheeled me inside, and when he asked Mummy if she wanted her usual table, she shook her head.

“My husband isn’t with us this morning, so we’ll sit at one of the booths,” Mummy decided, pointing to the row of semi-circular booths set against the side wall. Angie squealed with glee. She loved sitting in the booths, and this was a rare treat for her.
The grey-haired gentleman thoughtfully asked Mummy, “Do you want me to wheel over a couple of highchairs for your little girls?”
Mummy smiled gratefully at him for remembering, but again shook her head in the negative. “No, that’s alright.” She fondly patted Angie’s head and explained, “Angelica can sit on a big seat today, because she’s been behaving like such a big girl.” She turned to glance at me, and her expression turned sorrowful. “But I think I’ll leave Baby Jennie in her stroller for breakfast,” she decided. “She’ll be safe enough there.”

The kindly old manager nodded in understanding, and led us to one of the side booths with a half-circle bench seat. Angelica scrambled up onto the green padded seat cushion giggling merrily, sitting up like a polite young lady. She proudly rested her hands on the imitation wood-grain Formica table top, watching Mummy as she locked my stroller wheels in place at the head of the table. Even though we were off to one side and mostly out of people’s way, my pink push-chair was parked in the aisle. Anyone who needed to walk past would have to manoeuvre around my oversized toddler’s stroller. Mummy ordered scrambled eggs for breakfast for all of us, as usual, and the attentive old man took her order and disappeared into the kitchen.

Mummy straightened my humiliating ‘Little Miss Squishy Britches’ bibbie over my breast and then turned to Angie sitting opposite. The two proceeded to have an animated chat that didn’t include me at all. I tried not to sulk at being treated like an incompetent baby who had nothing to contribute to the conversation. I ignored them and sucked harder on my soothing dum-dums instead, wishing it was Justine’s sweet nipple. A grinning young waitress brought our food and drinks for the girls. She almost dropped Mummy’s mug of coffee, she was staring so hard at me in my stroller.

Angie beamed in delight when Mummy let her start eating without having to wear a bib. My sister was allowed to cut up her own food and eat it all by herself, too. (Scrabbled eggs on a piece of soggy toast, that had already been cut into quarters - big deal!) I spat out my dum-dums and Mummy spoon-fed me between bites of her own meal, reaching down to feed me in my stroller and cooing softly in encouragement like I was a real baby. Angie had her orange juice served to her in a proper glass, and she was allowed to drink it like a grown-up. I watched her with envious eyes while Mummy pressed the teat of my baby bottle between my parched lips.

She held my tepid bottle of watered-down apple juice for me at first, but when my breakfast was finished, she coaxed me to hold it by myself. She crooned instructions to me like I was her sweet baby girl. “Go on, Baby Jennie. Hold your own bot-bot, darling. That’s right, good girl! What a clever baby girl!” That gave Mummy time to savour her morning coffee, which she did with relish.
After Angie finished her juice, she placed her empty glass back on the table with a loud ‘bang’ and stated in a matter-of-fact voice, “Mummy, I need to do a wee-wee.”
“Good girl, Angelica!” Mummy praised her. “Can you wait just a minute, sweetie?” She beamed with approval when Angie smiled and nodded.

As soon as Mummy finished her coffee, she stood and helped my sister climb down from the bench seat. “We don’t have a potty here, darling, but I’m sure Mummy can help you use the grown-up’s toilet like a proper big girl.” She glanced down in contempt at me, and couldn’t prevent the disdain creeping into her voice when she muttered, “I’m sure your baby sister will be alright here for a minute or two. After all, she’s not going anywhere in that stroller, is she?”
“No Mummy, I guess not,” Angie giggled. With a scornful parting glance for me, she scurried after Mummy towards the bathrooms.

I sat there busily slurping from the teat of my titty-bottle, cautiously glancing around the half-full restaurant to see if anyone was staring at me. There were about twenty patrons sitting around the sunny room, and fortunately, most of them paid me no heed. When my bottle was almost finished, I tilted the end up high and noisily sucked out the last few drops. Intent on my task, I eventually lowered the empty pink plastic vessel to find an elderly couple approaching me. A beaming grey-haired old lady dressed in her Sunday best led the way, with her skinny shrunken husband in tow. He was wearing a worn but serviceable navy-blue suit. They walked over to stand at the foot of my stroller, and the little old lady placed her veined hands on her knobbly knees as she leaned down to inspect me. “Aww!” she cooed, pursing her thin red-painted lips in the semblance of a pout. “Look at you! What a pretty little girl! Isn’t she beautiful, Fred?” She reached out and chucked me under the chin like I was an infant, smiling broadly when she cooed, “Cootchy-cootchy-coo!”

I let my empty bottle rest in my lap, shocked by her cavalier treatment. I instinctively tried to cover my bulging baby panties with the bottle and both hands. The old lady’s watery blue eyes widened when she read aloud the legend on my bibbie; “Little Miss Squishy Britches, hmm?” I defensively raised my hands to cover the humiliating message, and her smile tightened when she glanced down between my splayed thighs. The nosy old woman leant forward and rudely prodded the bulging crotch of my rumba panties. “My goodness!” she muttered in astonishment. “Are you still in nappies, little one? Are you?” Her red slash of a mouth turned into a disapproving wafer-thin line and she shook her head in contempt. “You’re much too big to be diapered like a baby. Look, Fred! She’s wearing nappies.”

The stooped old man behind her nodded gravely in agreement with his opinionated wife. His grey, badly-shaven face puckered in disapproval. I felt my cheeks burn red with shame and I instinctively scrabbled for the big pink dummy dangling at my breast. I shoved the calming rubber teat between my lips, sucked hard, and stared up at them with a vacant clueless expression. “Ba-ba-ba!” I babbled like an excited baby, holding up my empty pink bottle in one hand and mindlessly waving it about. “Ga-ga goo-goo ga!” I figured if they were going to talk down to me like I was a useless infant, I might as well act the part. “Ga-ga-ga-ga goo!” After all, I was dressed and diapered like a baby girl, I had been put to the breast this morning and fed like a baby, and had my wet and poopy nappies changed several times. I was a dummy-sucking, diapered big baby! A totally feminine, beautiful baby girl! “Ga-ga! Ga-ga-ga-ba ba-ba-ba!”

At first the grey-haired senior citizens seemed surprised by my mindless chatter, but then the old woman’s expression softened. Her wrinkled face puckered and her smile turned indulgent as she cooed, “Oh my! You really are just a little baby, aren’t you?”
“Ba-ba ga-ga, goo-goo-goo, goo-goo!” I enthusiastically gurgled in reply.
“Yes she is,” Mummy replied from behind me in a chill, unamused tone. She rested her hands possessively on the white rubber handles of my stroller, giving it a warning jerk. I was so startled, a squirt of scalding hot urine jetted out of my limp clittie.
The prune-faced old lady raised her watery blue eyes to glance behind me. “She’s very beautiful, but why is she still in nappies?” the little old lady questioned my mother, her wrinkled face creasing frighteningly in concern.

“I’m afraid my pretty baby girl is a little bit slow,” Mummy sadly explained, as she and Angelica stepped around to my side. I was shocked! Was my mother telling them I was retarded? The old folks’ faces fell in sympathy, and the little old lady clucked her tongue in disappointment for my mother’s plight. Mummy moved to the front of my stroller between me and the interfering busybody. She plucked out my dummy and used my stained bibbie to wipe the remaining smears of cooked egg and sticky apple juice from my puffy pink lips and my drool-stained chin. “There you are, darling!” Mummy cooed to me in that condescending sing-song toddler voice of hers. “That’s better! My gorgeous widdle baby girl is all clean now.”

Mummy teasingly held up my dum-dums in front of my face, shaking it at the end of the pink plastic chain. Her olive-green eyes sparkled with mischief and she smiled broadly when my lips automatically parted to accept my baby soother. First she insisted; “Let Mummy hear you ask for your dums-dums, Baby Jennie. Come on, sweetie. Show these nice folk what a clever baby girl you are.” Realising Mummy’s intent was to humiliate me even further, I deliberately relaxed my straining sphincter and let the hot urine gush freely into my thick and thirsty nappies. I wriggled about in infantile delight as the seeping warmth slowly enveloped my botty.

I knew I couldn’t suddenly break into normal adult speech now; not without embarrassing myself horribly in front of the old couple. “Dum-dums, Mama,” I obligingly pleaded, clumsily reaching up for my much-needed pacifier. When she grinned but didn’t otherwise respond, my high-pitched cries escalated in volume and rose another octave. “Dum-dums! Ma-ma! Dum-dums! Ma-ma! Ma-ma-da-da ga-ba-ga-ga-ga!” Her patronising smile turned shark-like before she lavishly licked the amber teat for me and popped the dripping pacifier into my babbling mouth. I anxiously sucked on the soothing rubber teat as I intentionally drenched my nappy. “Num-num-num-mmm-mmm!” I didn’t realise every head in the restaurant had turned towards my convincing infantile performance. Fortunately most of the watching patrons merely smiled forgivingly at the babbling big baby girl in the candy-striped stroller.

“There you are, baby. You have a lovely suck on your dum-dums,” Mummy crooned encouragingly to me. She turned to confront the elderly couple. “She loves her dum-dums so much!”
“She certainly does,” agreed the old woman, smiling at the sight I made. “She’s a beautiful little girl. It’s such a pity she’s-”
“Yes, isn’t it,” Mummy cut off her misdiagnosis to agree. “But we all have our cross to bear,” she added stoically, “and Baby Jennie is mine.”
“Well good luck to you, and God bless,” the smiling old woman kindly wished her. She led her doddering hunch-backed husband past us to find a place to sit.

Mummy collected my change bag from the bench seat, stuffed my empty bottle inside, and Angelica led the way as she wheeled me out of the restaurant. At short time later we pulled into the driveway at home, and Mummy held my hand as she led me inside. As soon as I waddled through the front door she released her grip. I dropped to my hands and knees without a second’s hesitation. Angie ordered me to crawl after her into the sunroom, and she trotted over to her doll house and sat on the carpet to play with her Barbies. I sat beside her and opened the little pink suitcase Connie had given me, filled with Barbie dresses and accessories. I dressed and undressed my dolls without paying much attention to what I was doing. My mind was preoccupied remembering the erotic scene in the Nursery tea room with my gorgeous babysitter Justine. My easily-aroused clittie stiffened inside my warm wet nappy at the happy recollection. I discretely fondled my throbbing clittie through the moist cloth, making sure my tattle-tale sister didn’t catch me in the act.

When Mummy came back downstairs, she had changed out of her pink outfit into a pair of faded blue jeans and an old fawn button-front blouse. She stepped into the sunroom in her white sneakers, clapping her hands for our attention. “Girls! It’s a beautiful day outside, so why don’t you take your dolls into the back yard, and play out there for a little while?” Mummy suggested.
“Cool!” Angie enthusiastically agreed, and she jumped to her feet.
“Come upstairs first, darling,” Mummy instructed my sister. “The sun is very hot out there this morning. You need some sunscreen and I think you should wear a hat, too.” After Angie trotted past her into the hallway, Mummy followed her upstairs.

When Angie came skipping back into the sunroom, she had a layer of white zinc sunscreen smeared over her nose and cheeks. She had changed out of her pink dress and bloomers into a pale-pink t-shirt with the word ‘Princess’ emblazoned across the front in glittery hot-pink lettering, and her favourite hot-pink stretchy terry shorts, You could barely tell she was wearing a pull-up underneath. She wore her pink sneakers over her frilly anklet socks, and she had a soft pale-pink cotton, pork-pie hat on her head, which provided some shade for her face and neck. Angie grabbed her dolls and smirked superiorly at me before heading for the back door.

Mummy strode into the sunroom a few seconds later, and walked over to me carrying a shiny piece of pink satin embellished with lavish white lace frills in one hand, and a tube of zinc cream in the other. “You’ll need a hat too, baby.” Mummy slid something soft and slithery over my bouncing curls, rearranged the wide white lace edging to frame my face, and then pulled some satin ribbons together around my throat. It wasn’t until she tied the ribbons in a big floppy bow under my chin that I realised she was putting a baby bonnet on me! When she tied the knot securely, she leaned back to examine my humiliating new headwear. “That’s better,” she cooed condescendingly, smiling broadly in approval as she straightened the stiffened frills around my blushing cheeks. I felt like I was wearing blinkers made of thick white lace!

She smeared sticky white zinc cream over my nose and my hot pink cheeks, stood back, and then smiled down at me in satisfaction. “What a pretty baby girl you are in your lacy pink baby bonnet! Just stay there for a moment, baby,” Mummy instructed me, and she collected my Barbies and dumped them and the little pink suitcase inside the doll house, and then she hauled the whole lot outside. I was expecting her to come back carrying my pink leather toddler harness, but she was surprisingly bare-handed when she returned.

“Come on, Baby Jennie,” Mummy cooed, holding out her hands to help me clamber to my feet. She kept hold of my hand and led me slowly waddling outside, and I was puzzled by my relative freedom - until I spotted the huge playpen set up in our back yard, on the far side of the sandbox. “Look baby,” she smiled, and pointed to the pink-painted steel baby prison. “Mummy has a special big playpen for her helpless little baby girl to play in.” Angie was already sitting on the grass beside her doll house, which Mummy had set up next to the other side of the wide-spaced steel bars. I frowned sullenly when I noticed Angie wasn’t wearing her toddler harness, either. Mummy released my hand when we reached the playpen and ordered, “On your hands and knees now, baby, and crawl inside.” This took my babyfication to a whole new low!

There was a low, upward-opening hinged gate on one of the shorter sides of the rectangular steel playpen. Mummy opened it high so I could shuffle through the narrow opening on my hands and knees. The foam padded floor was covered by a wetproof layer of heavy-duty pink vinyl, decorated in the recurring Disney Princess pattern. It was about four feet long and three wide, and I turned around just in time to see Mummy lower the hinged steel gate and lock it in place. She smiled down at me in ruthless satisfaction when I knelt up and grabbed the pink bars for support. I thrust my face between the steel bars and grumpily gazed up at her, sucking resentfully on my dum-dums. Angie wriggled closer to my playpen and passed my dollies to me through the bars. By the time I opened my little pink suitcase and sulkily selected a new outfit for my brunette Barbie, Mummy returned carry my infant doll Justine, a fresh bottle for me, and the fuzzy pink blanket from my crib.

She leaned over the high top rail to hand me my diapered dolly, and then she tossed the pink blankie into the playpen beside me. She reached through the bars to feed the nipple into my mouth, and didn’t release her grasp on the pink plastic vessel until she was sure I was securely holding it. “Good bubba.” Then she stood and turned to my sister. “If you need a drink, Angie, just come inside and tell Mummy. And if you need to use the potty - well, you know what to do. Okay, sweetie?” My beaming sister nodded agreement, and without another word to me, Mummy returned inside the house.

My sister began to boss me around as usual, telling me what clothes I should dress my dolls in and what our role-playing game would be. I was growing tired of her telling me what to do all the time, so I wriggled into the centre of my roomy playpen, out of her reach. I lay back on the soft padded floor and closed my eyes to block out the bright light. The sun was warm on my face, and I stretched out my legs to soak up the brilliant sunshine. I tuned out Angie’s high-pitched warbling and stuck the nipple of my baby bottle in my mouth, and gratefully sucked down a few mouthfuls of icy-cold, watered-down apple juice. When Angie raised her voice at me in annoyance, I started to sing a meaningless song in my head, effectively jamming her whinging. ‘La-la-la-le-la-la, ga-ga-ga-ba, ga-ba-ba,’ I sang tunelessly to myself, and soon I couldn’t hear Angie nagging me at all. ‘La-la, ba-ba, ga-ga, ga-ga-goo.’

I think I must have dozed off, because when I woke up, I was alone in the back yard. One hand was cupped over the tenting front of my baby panties, and I realised I must have been caressing my stiff clittie in my sleep. “Ga-ba-ga?” I sleepily burbled around the teat of my mouth-filling dum-dums. I sucked harder on the comforting rubber teat for reassurance. I relaxed my grip on my swollen groin and sat up in groggy alarm, peering around in confusion at the high pink bars that enclosed me, my empty bottle falling to my side. There were banging noises and loud voices coming from the house behind ours, and I clumsily climbed to my feet and clutched the sun-warmed steel bars for support. The playpen’s top rail was inches over my head. When I pressed my face to the warm bars and looked past the oleander bushes that separated our back yards, I saw Daisy and Sally carrying armfuls of plastic outdoor furniture to set up in their back lawn. They were obviously getting things ready for Daisy’s birthday party this afternoon, and I shuddered with mixed emotions when I recalled I would be attending the Fairy Princess party suitably diapered and dressed.

Sally carried an armful of stackable green plastic chairs towards the bushes bordering our properties, and set up the lightweight outdoor furniture facing the middle of the lawn. When she had arranged the chairs to her satisfaction, I saw her raise her head and peer into our back yard. Even from this distance I could see the stunned expression on her face and the uncertainty in Sally’s stance. She threaded her way past the oleanders and trotted into our back yard, making a beeline for my playpen. Sally was wearing a plain grey t-shirt over her generous bust and some tiny white cotton shorts that snugly hugged her plump curvaceous bottom. Her sister looked up when she realised she was alone in their back yard. When she spotted Sally heading next door, Daisy instinctively followed, curious to see what had captured her big sister’s attention.

Sally’s pace slowed as she approached my humiliating kiddie-prison. Her face reflected a confusing mix of emotions. Sympathy, horror, and amusement all fought for dominance on her thin angular face, but it was clear that amusement won the battle. Sally began to giggle uncontrollably as she stepped closer to the bars. She was tall enough to poke her pointy chin over the top rail and peer down at me. “Aww, look at you in your playpen, Baby Jennie!” Her voice was bubbling with laughter when she cooed, “Don’t you look adorable!” My cheeks flushed warmly from a combination of pleasure and embarrassment, but her pencil-thin sister’s snide comments made sure that embarrassment ruled the day.

“Look at that frilly baby bonnet! She looks like a great big sissy baby!” Daisy scornfully declared, trotting up to stand beside her grinning sister. She was dressed in a similar fashion to her big sister – shorts and t-shirt - and I felt even more feminine cowering before them in my floaty pink baby frock, my lace-lavished baby bonnet and my frothy petties. Daisy scowled at me and reached through the pink-painted bars to contemptuously slap the wide white lace brim of my baby bonnet. I instinctively cowered away from her, and when I released my grip on the bars, I clumsily fell backwards onto my wet padded bottom with a girlish high-pitched squeal of alarm. My dummy flew from my mouth and bounced against my bibbie, accompanied by a shiny stream of drool. The sneering seven-year-old shook her head in contempt when she demanded, “Why do you want that big sissy baby to come to my birthday party? She’ll ruin everything!”

“She’ll be fine,” Sally dismissively replied, ignoring my embarrassed blushes and leaning down closer to me. She reached through the bars to affectionately pat my satin-covered curls, and I loved the gentle stoking of her hand. She picked up my drool-covered dum-dums from where it dangled over my bosom. She kindly popped my comforting baby pacifier back in my mouth and then wiped her fingers dry on my bibbie. I sucked on the amber rubber nipple and gratefully gazed up at Sally as she stood erect, trying to thank her with my eyes. “Anyway, if she gives us too much trouble, we can always bring the baby back here and lock her in her playpen,” Sally cruelly suggested. She burst into fresh peals of bright laughter when she saw my instantly horrified expression. ‘No,’ I thought, biting my dummy teat in terror, ‘she wouldn’t dare! Would she?’

“Hello girls,” Mummy called from our back porch. “Happy birthday, Daisy! Are you getting everything ready for the party?”
“Thanks Mrs Ryan,” Daisy trilled.
“Hi Mrs Ryan. Yes we are, but we’ve still got tons to do,” Sally replied. She leaned down and picked up my empty bottle from the playpen floor before standing erect. “Your little Baby Jennie looks absolutely adorable in her playpen,” she added, with another teasing grin for me. “I love her pretty new baby bonnet, too.”
“Yes, she’s the perfect baby girl, isn’t she?” That was Mummy’s considered response, and despite the hot midday sun, my blood ran cold at the chill note of premonition in her tone.

I heard a loud call from Sally’s place, and both girls’ heads swivelled towards the familiar summoning sound. “Oh-oh! That’s mum,” Daisy muttered, easily identifying the noisy squawk.
Sally turned away from me with a reluctant sigh. “Oh well, I guess we’d better get back to work.” She waved my empty bottle at Mummy. “I think your baby needs a fresh bottle.”
“That’s okay. I’m going to give her a snack now and put the baby down for an early nap anyway, so she’ll be lovely and refreshed for your party this afternoon, Daisy.”
“I can’t wait!” the excited little girl exclaimed, dancing on the spot beside my playpen bars and smiling down at me in malicious anticipation.
“Come on, sis, we gotta go,” Sally insisted. “Bye-bye, Baby Jennie.” She dropped my empty bottle beside the playpen and gave me a farewell wave, and then called out a goodbye to my mother.
“We’ll see you this afternoon, girls,” Mummy reminded them, before our neighbours slid through the gaps in the bushes into their own backyard.

Mummy unlocked the playpen gate and ordered me to crawl out. When she made no move to help me stand, I sullenly shuffled on all fours towards the back porch. She took my hand and helped me to waddle up the rough wooden steps, thank goodness, but as soon as we entered the house, her grip relaxed and she released me. I dropped to the floor and continued crawling where she pointed, towards my pink steel highchair. Mummy lifted me into the roomy padded seat and tightly buckled me in. She lowered the Disney Princess tray and plonked a plastic Barbie bowl full of pureed apples in front of me. She plucked out my dum-dums and dropped it in a glass of water on the kitchen bench, and turned back to me with a purse-lipped smile.

“Here diddums,” she cooed, stirring the liquefied mixture with my pink rubber-coated spoon. “I want you to eat some of this for Mummy, before I put you down for your nap.” I wasn’t really hungry after my session of breastfeeding and our late breakfast, but Mummy insistently pressed the loaded spoon to my puffy pink lips. “Come on baby girl. Eat up for Mummy,” she crooned invitingly. She kept shovelling it in until I had the choice of swallowing or choking. She didn’t stop feeding me until the pink plastic bowl had been scraped clean, and there was slimy apple sauce covering my cheeks and running down my chin.

My pink ‘Little Miss Squishy Britches’ bibbie was splattered with pale green goop, too. Mummy clucked her tongue in reproval as she unclipped the humiliating item from around my neck. In a way I was glad I’d made a huge mess of my pink bibbie. I didn’t want to wear that embarrassing tell-tale item for another minute. She firmly scoured my messy face with a warm soapy washer, making me wriggle and whimper in discomfort, and then she carefully scrubbed my hands and fingers, too. She popped my wet dummy back in my mouth to silence my complaints, raised the hinged tray out of the way, removed my restraints and lifted me down to the floor. “Crawl upstairs now baby, and we’ll change your wet nappy and get you ready for your nap,” she instructed me in that saccharine baby voice.

To be continued in chap. 35.
Any comments?
Baby Jennie

Synopsis; Aunty Cath brings a diapered Baby Bonnie over to her sister's place to help get Baby Jennie ready for the Fairy Princess party. Bonnie realises she has wronged Baby Jennie, and tries to make it up to the sissy baby.

Chapter 35. Baby Bonnie and Baby Jennie

I was shuffling on all fours down the hallway towards the staircase when the doorbell rang. Mummy hurried past me to open the front door. Bonnie was standing outside with her long bare legs splayed unnaturally wide, accompanied by her stern-faced mother. My hang-dog cousin had her hot-pink plastic tool box clutched in one hand and she staggered because of the imbalanced weight. The sullen teenager barely glanced at me as her mother dragged her inside at the end of her white baby reins. Aunty Cath was dressed very plainly in a denim work shirt and an old pair of jeans, but I noticed she was wearing her black platform knee-high boots with the towering six-inch heels.

Voluptuous Bonnie was wearing her white leather toddler harness over a cute yoke-neck, powder-blue babydoll frock. At least it was long enough to cover the nappies and baby panties I felt certain she must be wearing underneath. Her breasts were so large and the harness so tight, soft brown flesh bulged out of the top of her frock, even though the neckline was reasonably demure. The juvenile Empire-line dress had a row of big blue buttons running down the front too, all the way to the brief hemline that showed off most of her fleshy brown thighs. Aunty Cath treated me like a useless infant and completely ignored me. She briefly greeted my mother as she unclipped the slender white leather reins from the rear D-rings attached to Bonnie’s harness, and then my Aunty unbuckled and removed the humiliating toddler restraint.

“I need to take care of a few things, Isy, and I haven’t got time to look after my silly baby girl,” Cath explained without preamble or apology. “I thought I could leave her here with you till the party and she could help you get the girls ready. She’s brought her box of tricks, so she can do the girls’ faces for the party, too.”
“Oh! Oh, okay,” Mummy clumsily responded, caught completely off-guard by her bossy big sister’s poorly-framed request. “I suppose that would be alright. I’m just about to change the baby and put her down for a nap.”

Cath firmly thrust her cowed daughter towards my kneeling form, and she stumbled forward in her classic flat-heeled, black-patent Maryjane shoes, the pastel-blue frills of her lace-lavished white anklet socks shimmering attractively around her slender ankles. Bonnie placed her heavy tool box beside the wall out of the way, but she couldn’t look at Mummy or Aunty Cath when she turned back to us.

“Good,” Cath grunted dismissively. “Make Baby Bonnie change her nappy. I hope it’s a nasty messy one.” She slipped the packed vinyl-covered diaper bag from her shoulder and handed it to my mother. “My baby’s clean for the moment. I only changed her nappy about twenty minutes ago, so she should be right for a few hours. I know you probably have everything here to take care of my big baby girl, but I packed her change bag, anyway.”
“I know what that’s like,” Mummy chuckled in agreement, slipping the plastic-covered handles over one shoulder. “It’s just a mother’s natural instinct, I suppose.”

Aunty Cath gave a short barking laugh and nodded, then handed the white leather harness and matching baby reins to Mummy too. She backed towards the front door, muttering, “I really have to get going, Isy. I have several… things that need organising, before I come back at two o’clock.”
“Okay sis,” Mummy replied with an easy smile. “I’ll see you later.”
“Behave yourself, Baby Bonnie,” Cath growled in warning. Her downcast daughter’s head nodded, making her long chestnut pigtails dance. Cath waved farewell to Mummy and then slipped out the door, closing it firmly behind her. I realised she hadn’t acknowledged my presence at all, treating me as less than dust beneath her chariot wheels.

Mummy sighed heavily and then shrugged her shoulders in resignation. “Alright, Baby Bonnie. Can I trust you to take Baby Jennie upstairs, take off her nappy, and put her on the potty?” The embarrassed teenager numbly nodded and Mummy smiled - barely. “Then you can put her in a fresh nappy, and pop her into her crib for a little nap. Okay Bonnie? Can I trust you to do that?”
“Yes Aunty Isy,” Bonnie meekly mumbled in reply, so quietly that I could barely hear her.

Mummy nodded in satisfaction and glanced towards me on the staircase. “Keep crawling up those stairs, baby girl,” Mummy firmly instructed me. “It’s nap-time for wet little baby girls.” I obediently shuffled upstairs on all fours, oblivious to my cousin’s wide golden eyes when she stared in bemused wonder at my demeaning infantile mode of progress.
“Aunty Isy?” Bonnie hesitantly suggested, “Do you want me to make up a bedtime bottle for Baby Jennie?”
Mummy looked surprised by her niece’s unexpected thoughtfulness. “Yes Bonnie, that would be a lovely idea! You know where the baby’s bottles are kept?” The tall teen nodded and headed towards the kitchen.

Mummy stood at the foot of the stairs watching me when I paused outside the door to my Nursery. When she didn’t yell at me to continue crawling inside, I anxiously waited to see if Bonnie was really going to make me a bedtime bottle. Would the conniving vixen put something nasty in it? Like a laxative, or something that tasted horrid? The possibilities were terrifying! Mummy carried Bonnie’s pink change bag and her clinking toddler harness into the formal dining room that we almost never use, and dumped everything on the long mahogany table. She came out and walked down the hallway towards the kitchen - I assumed to check on my cousin, for which I was grateful. I didn’t want her spiking my bottle with purgatives, or something worse!

A few minutes later Bonnie returned carrying one of my huge pink baby bottles filled with milk. From the way she carefully cradled my bottle in one of my terry bibbies, it looked almost too hot to handle. I fearfully wondered if she intended deliberately scalding my tongue so I couldn’t talk properly, reducing me to incoherent baby babbling for days, or even weeks. My heart pounded against my breast at the terrifying - yet weirdly arousing - prospect. My cousin slowly waddled upstairs, and Mummy observed from the foot of the stairs as Bonnie clumsily shuffled towards me across the landing. “Oh, and Bonnie?” Mummy called after her. “Make sure you lock Baby Jennie’s mittens on her naughty paws before you put her down for her nap, okay? You’ll see them on the shelf above the change table.”

My diapered cousin nodded and I despondently crawled ahead of her into my Nursery, stopping at the foot of my change table. Bonnie placed my steaming pink baby bottle on the dresser and tossed my clean bibbie at the head of the table. She lifted me up with a grunt and sat me on my soggy bottom on the padded vinyl surface. She untied and thankfully took off my restrictive, frill-laden satin bonnet first. I felt like a grateful draught horse having her blinkers removed. Bonnie took off my floaty pink cotton frock and my frothy petticoat, and hung them up in the walk-in wardrobe. Finally she unbuckled my pink-patent Maryjanes, and slid them from my petite feet. She tugged down my frilly socks, too, and then eased me onto my back. “Lift up, baby,” she softly instructed. I was so unused to someone directly speaking to me while they changed my nappy, at first I didn’t react.

“Come on, baby, lift your bum,” Bonnie ordered a tad impatiently. Then it looked like she was trying to rein in her wayward emotions. She bit her plump pink bottom lip in regret for her hasty admonition, smiled bravely, then tugged down my slithering pink rumba panties. She gently cooed, “Ballerina toesies,” before she swept the frilly panties off my raised feet. “Good baby!” Fortunately for her I was only wet when she unpinned and peeled down the warm soggy front of my nappy. Bonnie expertly gathered my ankles in one hand and swept my feet back over my head, and dragged my wet nappies from underneath me with practised ease. She lowered my legs, used the relatively dry rear to swab up the pee-stained old powder, removed the disposable soaker pad and liners, and then tossed the drenched cloth nappies in my nappy bucket.

She grabbed a handful of baby wipes from the tub on the shelf above and proceeded to carefully wipe every square inch of my diaper area. Her large hands were sure and gentle, her touch soft and caring, until I closed my eyes and relaxed back in comfort. Even though her caressing touches on my genitals were thrilling, my anxiety initially made sure my little clittie remained just that - little. She rolled me back onto my shoulders again to clean between my botty cheeks, and she used so many wipes I suspected I might have been a little dirty back there, as well. When she was sure I was completely clean, she slowly lowered my legs and leaned over me with a tender smile. “Do you need to use the potty, baby girl?” she sweetly questioned me. I lazily shook my head, unaware that my excitable little clittie had already started to thicken, totally beyond my control. “That’s what I thought,” she whispered with a cheeky grin. “But that’s okay, baby. Maybe we can use our time together a little more… productively.”

Bonnie took two of my new fluffy pink nappies from the shelf under the change table, and lay them on the padded surface between my wide-splayed feet. She slid a disposable diaper between the thick cloth layers to act as an additional soaker pad and placed the disposable blue liners in a cross pattern over the top, just in case I soiled my nappy. She didn’t bother asking me to lift my botty and simply rolled me back onto my shoulders again to slide the prepared nappies underneath me. My bottom gently dropped onto the huge puffy pile of material, settling onto the fluffy mass like a soft cottony cloud.

Bonnie shook a fog of scented baby powder over my genitals and caressed the silky talc over my hairless tummy and swelling baby-smooth bits. “Baby likes lots of powder,” she cooed with a small smile. She lifted my ankles high in the air again to powder my botty too, and her hand felt so soft and warm as she smoothed the lightly-perfumed talc all over my relaxed bumcheeks and deeply into my parted crack. Her tickling powdery fingers circled around my delicate puffy rosebud, teasing and gently probing until I writhed uncontrollably under her fabulous erotic caresses. “Mmm, baby likes that,” Bonnie murmured with quiet confidence. When she lowered my feet, my twitching little tool was helplessly expanding, the swelling head creeping up my powdery tummy towards my belly button.

Bonnie deftly pulled the soft fluffy front of my clean nappy up over my stiffening clittie, and expertly pinned it around my waist with two pins either side. It was the tightest nappy I’d ever worn, erotically trapping my hot hard-on against my powder-coated, silky-smooth belly. She shook out a fresh pair of crackling pink plastic panties from my dresser drawer, cooed “Ballerina toesies,” and slid them over my feet with skill born of long practice. “Good girl! Footsies down, bubba.” She rolled the rustling transparent pilchers up past my knees and then crooned, “Lift that botty for me, baby girl.” I obligingly raised my rear, puzzled that she was being so nice to me. She tugged the snug waistband up over my huge padded bum with some difficulty. She tucked everything in around the leg bands and all the way around the top of my nappy to be safe, then softly commanded, “And down, baby. What a good baby girl! Now upsy-daisy!”

She sat me up and turned me so my calves dangled over the side of the change table. She slipped one of my filmy pink cotton babydoll nighties over my curl-covered head. I even poked my hands through the short lace-edged sleeves without needing her help. She was smiling at me strangely in a half-sad, half-wistful kind of way, as she settled the brief hemline around my wide padded hips. “You make such a pretty little girl,” Bonnie commented. “Here baby, let me help.” She leaned forward and reached around me to tug down the back of my floaty nightie, and I found my face falling into her deep inviting cleavage. I gratefully rested my flushed pink cheeks between her warm bountiful breasts, and was pleasantly surprised when she didn’t instantly pull away. I inhaled deeply, filling my nostrils with the delicate aroma of baby powder and her own spicy personal scent. Despite my stiff clittie pulsating distractingly inside my fluffy dry nappy, I felt an anxious twinge of concern. After all; this is Bonnie we’re talking about! Why was she being so nice to me? I felt I had to treat her every move with suspicion.

My buxom cousin shuddered slightly, and then went very still, cradling my face against her trembling bosom. I suspected she was wetting her diaper, and I strained my ears for any audible evidence of her stream from inside her wetproof panties. All I could hear was her pounding heart reverberating through the soft fleshy cushions of her luscious titties. She kept my face pressed between her bountiful breasts for a few thrilling minutes, patting my back distractedly while she completely emptied her straining bladder. Then she released me with a tremulous sigh and slid a clean frilly bibbie between our bodies, and she clipped it around my neck. My smiling cousin thoughtfully attached the dummy chain to the lace-edged collar of my bibbie, and I clutched my familiar oversized baby pacifier for reassurance.

Bonnie leaned back and her tender expression remained unchanged, even when she slipped one of the soft pink leather mittens over the limp fingers of my free hand. “Curl up your fingers for me, baby girl,” she cooed invitingly. I obediently made a fist and let her tug the snug mitten into place and buckle it around my left wrist. I popped the amber rubber teat into my mouth before I effectively lost the use of my hands, my chin drooping in resignation. My right hand was dealt with in the same manner, and her huge golden eyes glowed with unspoken sympathy when she used the tiny brass padlocks to secure my snug pink mittens in place. I used my bound hands to clumsily clasp the frill-edged bottom of my musk-pink bibbie, lifting it so I could read the embroidered inscription; ‘Princess Potty Pants.’

Bonnie’s smile seemed genuine when she picked me up off the change table. My buxom cousin carried me over her padded hip like a big baby, all the way to the wide white wicker rocking chair in the far corner of the Nursery. I wrapped myself around her voluptuous frame and one of my mittened fists unthinkingly came to rest in the small of her back. I could hear her baby panties quietly crackling against my clenched thighs under her dress, and I could feel the links of the brass waist chain at the rear, as well as the little padlock tightly securing it in place. She picked up my hot baby bottle from the dresser on the way, and then carefully leaned down and placed it on the floor beside the white wicker chair. She stood me up and held me by the waist to steady me as she sat down first. Although she attempted to demurely press her thighs together, it was an impossible task. The crotch of her bulky nappy was too thick for such shy feminine antics - just like mine.

Her brief hemline slid up and before she could tug it back down, I caught a glimpse of her tautly-stretched, heavily-packed baby panties. Bonnie’s lockable pilchers were made from thick, transparent pink plastic today, like my baby panties, with a narrow layer of pretty white lace frills around the leg holes. I thought they looked really cute. She blushed rosily when she realised she had inadvertently given me a glimpse of her hidden shame. The shy vulnerability of her downcast gaze made my heart go out to her, even as my clittie grew harder inside my nappy. She drew me closer and manoeuvred me face-up over her lap but angled towards her body, so my folded legs were mostly resting on one of the wide rounded wicker arms.

I caught a sharp hint of fresh urine, and knew it wasn’t coming from my nappy. I’d only been changed two minutes ago, and my pulsating clittie was too hard to make wee-wees! Bonnie took the plump pink cushion from behind her back and slid it over her warm bare thighs, since they were splayed too wide to safely support my head. She tenderly rested my halo of curls on the soft pillow, and I watched through sleepy half-closed eyelids while my smiling cousin unfastened the top three buttons of her powder-blue frock. The childish big blue plastic buttons were so huge, it took her ages to push each one through the buttonhole.

My blue eyes widened when I spied her pretty white lace bra. When she drew the flaps of her dress aside and folded them back, I could see every detail of Bonnie’s huge russet nipples through the delicate net cups. “Baby Jennie?” she softly demanded, as she tossed her long chestnut pigtails out of our way over her broad brown shoulders. “I have to ask you something.” With great difficulty, I tore my enraptured gaze from her fabulous heaving bosom and gazed up into her concerned golden eyes. Bonnie asked, “When you saw April and me… fooling around together, in her bedroom, all those years ago - did you really think Aril was telling me to stop and trying to push me away?” I kept my eyes on hers and slowly nodded, my big blue eyes shining with honesty. “You didn’t tell my mum that, just to get me into trouble?” I vehemently shook my head, till my platinum ringlets danced. A look of dawning comprehension slowly crept across her pretty puckered features.

“I believe you,” Bonnie gasped, and it sounded like a sob caught in her throat. “Just- just one more question, baby?” she asked rather than told me, and I nodded. “When - when your Mummy was punishing me yesterday, why…?” She paused, as if she found it difficult to complete the question. “Why did to ask her to stop? Why - why were you so nice to me?” She looked so worried, I almost giggled, but I think it was due more to nerves than amusement.

Her question confused me for a moment. I blinked stupidly up at her, batting my long black lashes like the confused little girl I was. “Becauthe Mummy wath hurting you,” I innocently replied. “You were thcweaming and cwying, and I- and I-” I couldn’t tell my bossy, five-foot ten, buxom, seventeen-year-old cousin I had felt sorry for her! Even if it was the truth! “I- I had to make her thtop. I didn’t want Mummy to hurt you any more!” I finished a tad defiantly. I was feeling kind of proud of myself for my unselfish act of bravery in defying both my Mummy and my domineering Aunty Cath. I was stunned when Bonnie’s pretty face became wracked with guilt. She blushed furiously till her face was as red as a fire hydrant, and her rapidly-blinking golden orbs glistened wetly with emotion.

“Oh baby, how I’ve misjudged you,” Bonnie mournfully muttered, and she plucked out my dum-dums and dropped it on my heaving bosom. My heart pounded with excitement when she added, “But maybe I can make up for that a bit now.” Her sheer E-cup bra had a front-fastening clip at the base of her cleavage, almost hidden beneath those humongous wobbling teats. I trembled and gasped in excitement when she deftly snapped open the clip. The stretchy lace cups instantly parted either side of her bountiful breasts like the Red sea before Moses, and the patterned net material dragging across her sweet russet buds teased the sensitive erectile tissue into ready wakefulness. I watched entranced as her pinky-brown nip-nips grew stiffer and larger - along with my throbbing clittie. Then Bonnie used the tip of her middle finger and her thumb to pinch the thickening left teat, pulling it out and teasing it to full size. It kept growing under her brutal ministrations, and she gave a sigh of pleasure/pain before she released the tumescent bud. It looked about the size of the end joint of my thumb, and twice as succulent.

I instinctively cupped my mittened paws over the bulging front of my crackling baby panties, firmly pressing the tight fluffy material beneath against my pounding stiffie. Bonnie slid her left hand under my shoulder and her forearm under my head, and levered my body a little closer to her left bosom. She smiled at my eagerly parted lips, her moist golden eyes glowing with a tenderness I’d never seen her display to me. She cupped her huge right hand under her massive trembling left breast, pinching the aureole between her thumb and index finger till the stiff russet nipple poked out temptingly between them. “Here, darling,” Bonnie cooed softly to me. “I know this is what you’ve always wanted.” She steered the erect bumpy bud between my waiting pursed lips, and I greedily latched on like I’d been doing it all my life. “Ahhhh!” She moaned and shuddered when I hungrily drew her swollen teat deeply into my suctioning mouth. As soon as she slid her hand from under her floppy breast, I reached up with both curled fists and began to gently pump her brown fleshy globe with my soft pink leather mittens.

Even though voluptuous Bonnie had no milk, it was incredibly arousing to dry-feed from her enormous E-cup breast. Her massive bosom was so big, each fleshy melon was almost the same size as my head - which really made me feel even more like a tiny baby by comparison. I revelled in the delicious infantile feelings sweeping through my tiny frame. Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined two beautiful busty young women wanting to breastfeed me on the same day! Despite the lack of milk, her huge firm nipple filling my mouth was totally satisfying to draw on. It was like sucking my fat dummy-teat - except this teat was wonderfully warm and alive with promise. I grunted and whimpered in delight, nuzzling into her unbelievably soft breast flesh, and then I felt her large right hand come to rest right over my throbbing clittie.

Bonnie pressed down firmly over my tenting plastic panties, wrapping my soft fluffy nappy around my pulsating little tool. “Good girl,” she whispered enticingly in my ear, as her palm slithered up and down over the slippery plastic front my bulging baby panties. “You have a lovely suck from my titty,” she murmured. “Mmm, that’s right, good baby. Ohhh!” She continued stroking and fondling my raging stiff clittie through my dry fluffy nappies, expertly teasing me to greater heights of arousal. I noisily snuffled at her breast like a hungry piglet, her soft warm flesh completely covering my nose at times, making breathing difficult. I figured out that if I kept kneading the top of her luscious cushiony titty with my leather-clad knuckles, just above my nostrils, I could make enough of a gap to occasionally snort in some much-needed fresh air.

She let me feed from her left nipple for about ten amazing minutes, and my face was sweaty from the intimate contact by the time she gently prised me away. I whimpered wordlessly in disappointment, but Bonnie slid me over her lap towards her massive bare right breast. I didn’t wait for her to guide the ready swollen nipple into my mouth. I reached up and clumsily grabbed hold of the warm heavy globe between my mittened fists, and urgently wrapped my pouting pink lips around her erect russet bud.

Her erotic grip on my pounding clittie tightened, and her sensational stroking caresses became more insistent as I drew the stiff swollen nipple halfway down my throat. “Ohh! What a good baby girl,” Bonnie whispered tenderly in my ear, and she cradled me even tighter to her enormous bosom. “Such a beautiful little baby girl, aren’t you? Yes, you are!” she affectionately cooed, speaking down to me as though I was her own sweet baby girl. “You looked so pretty today in your sweet pink toddler frock, with your frilly pink rumba panties peeping out from underneath, and your matching little pink patent Maryjanes. And your curly hair looks so gorgeous now, like a real little Shirley Temple.” I don’t know why, but I was thrilled by her softly crooned words of praise. I avidly sucked on her bountiful bosom like a starving infant as I writhed with pleasure in her arms. “You have no idea how beautiful you look now, precious. With those fabulous long lashes framing your big blue eyes, and your new darker, shaped eyebrows, and that gorgeous, pouty, puffy pink mouth… You couldn’t look more feminine if you tried!”

I helplessly wriggled in her arms and my little legs started twitching, my bare feet kicking spastically in excitement. My swollen clittie felt like a bar of molten steel inside my deliciously humid nappy. I unconsciously started thrusting my hips up, pressing harder into her thrilling grip. The clumsy pink leather mittens on my fists made it harder to pump her breasts, but that only made me feel more like the helpless little baby I truly was. “Yes baby,” Bonnie encouraged me in her low sweet voice, her hand on my slithering panty front rubbing faster and faster. “That’s it, my darling. Show me how much you love being a sweet little sissy Princess. Mmm, that’s it, my beautiful baby girl. Yes, you are! You’re my beautiful Baby Jennie, and I’m going to take such good care of you…”

I was grunting and moaning in exhilaration, swept away by her loving whispered endearments. It was like Bonnie wanted to make all my dreams come true, and I almost swooned at the fantastic thought. Suddenly I knew I was going to cum without her even touching my clittie, and I sucked even harder on her sensitive swollen nipple. She moaned in unison and clutched me tighter to her massive bosom, and my hips began to thrash up and down and my little legs jerked all over the place. “Good girl, good girl, what a good little baby girl you are,” she chanted in her low seductive voice. “Come on, my precious potty Princess, show me how you do cummies in your nap-naps. Let it all go in your nappy for Mama.” The bright lights flashed in my head as she unwittingly fulfilled my deepest darkest fantasy, and my clittie helplessly exploded inside my soft fluffy nappy. I grunted and panted with each emptying spasm of my writhing hips, the wonderfully soft nappies absorbing every spurting drop of my bad baby juice. My need for air eventually overcame my desire to keep suckling, and I reluctantly let go and let my head flop back against the soft cushion on her lap, gasping for breath.

“Aww,” Bonnie cooed with a cheeky knowing smile, “my poor little baby girl is all hot and sweaty after her lovely feed! Here darling, let me wipe your little face.” She picked up the end of my bibbie and used it to tenderly wipe the film of our combined perspiration from my glowing red cheeks. “That’s better. Did that feel good, baby?”
“Goo-goo-goo,” I breathlessly panted, and then gave up trying to say the word ‘good.’ I simply babbled up at her in mindless baby chatter, contentedly wallowing in the blissful post-orgasmic glow. “Goo-goo-goo ga-ga!” I happily mumbled, making her giggle in delight. I watched through sleepy half-closed eyelids as Bonnie used my absorbent terry bibbie to pat dry her sweaty brown breasts, and then she tugged the connecting straps of her white lace bra together in front.

Bonnie gathered her humongous floppy bosoms inside the lacy hammock, and then pulled the stretchy cups together to form a deep shadowed cleavage. Her angry red nipples were still so swollen, they poked out like thumb joints through the fine lace cups. She fastened the plastic clip between her heaving breasts with expert precision, despite it being invisible to her eyes. I watched in awe as she reached inside each cup in turn and gently rearranged the heavy fleshy melons with her fingers to settle them more comfortably, and then she slowly refastened the big blue plastic buttons of her babydoll frock over the top. Bonnie made sure everything was demurely covered, and then smiled down indulgently at my sleepy entranced expression. Her sweet smile broadened and her huge golden eyes glowed with tenderness when she reached down beside the arm of the rocking chair, and she picked up my baby bottle from the floor. My beaming cousin gently shook the pink plastic bottle first to stir the contents, and then tipped it up, shaking a few drops of milk onto her wrist to test the temperature. She decided it was warm enough, but not too hot, and she nodded in satisfaction before she steered the spurting teat towards my mouth.

“Here baby,” Bonnie crooned encouragingly. She fed the warm dripping nipple between my writhing parched lips. “My precious baby girl must be thirsty by now.” She wrapped her left hand behind my head again, tilting my face up and rolling me closer to her warm lush body. She cradled me to her ample bosom as she bottle-fed me, crooning soft words of encouragement to me when I sleepily let my eyes drift closed in post-orgasmic bliss. As the warm milk trickled down my throat, hot wee-wees simultaneously spurted out of my shrinking clittie, splashing over my tummy and surrounding my genitals in soothing, comforting warmth. I wriggled about in the sensuous spreading heat, only then becoming aware of a hot sticky mass between my cheeks. Did I mess my nappy when I was cumming? I wasn’t sure, but when I gently squeezed my bum cheeks together and then relaxed them, I could feel something sticking them together! If it was poo-poo, at least it wasn’t a very big one - I hoped.

Bonnie pressed the soles of her Maryjanes against the floor and pushed the rocking chair back, and then let go. The white wicker armchair began to gently rock, and my cousin maintained the movement with her long legs. The slow rocking motion was very soothing, and I tried to forget I was a wet and messy baby girl. I closed my eyes and let her bottle-feed me like a helpless infant. Bonnie began to softly hum, and I think it was a lullaby - but I couldn’t be sure. I lay back and relaxed as I rhythmically sucked and swallowed the warm sweet milk from the clear silicon teat of my baby bottle, my useless mittened fists resting on the rustling crotch of my plastic panties. I think I must have drifted off a couple of times, but Bonnie gently stroked my cheek with one finger to stimulate the suckling reflex. She smiled indulgently when I automatically started sucking down the warm milk again for another minute or two, before gradually drifting off once more.

“Aren’t you a good girl!” Mummy praised Bonnie in a loud whisper from the Nursery doorway. “You look like a real mother, cradling Baby Jennie like that and feeding her her bottle. Absolutely divine!” I heard Mummy’s soft words of praise as though from a great distance, but I don’t know if Bonnie replied. I know she must have carried me to my crib sometime later, eased me inside, and raised the side rail and locked it in place, all without waking me. Because that’s where I woke up a couple of hours later, lying on my side with my dummy in my mouth and a frilly bibbie still clipped around my neck.

I sleepily rolled onto my back and chewed on the satisfying rubber teat of the dum-dums I found in my mouth, feeling my sodden nappies engulfing my loins like a soothing warm bath. I stretched out luxuriously in my longer crib, and then wondered why Mummy hadn’t yet come to wake me. It was a beautiful sunny afternoon outside, and the air was warm and sweetly perfumed with familiar comforting scents of baby powder and my sodden nappy. The party! I sat up in alarm when I suddenly remembered that I was going to Daisy Green’s Fairy Princess birthday party this afternoon! I felt a squishy lump mash between my botty cheeks when I sat erect, and I instinctively rocked backwards and forwards on the semi-solid mess. I was a wet and pooey baby girl - again! My sensitive clittie pressed into the clinging front of my warm wet nappy as I rocked on my poopy load, and almost by reflex, it started to swell.

I heard Bonnie’s voice outside on the landing calling downstairs to Mummy. “She was still fast asleep ten minutes ago, but I’ll go and check on the baby again.” The Nursery door was slightly ajar, and when she pushed it open and stepped inside, Bonnie smiled warmly at the sight of me sitting up in my cot and gently rocking behind the pink steel bars. She poked her head out the door and yelled, “The baby’s awake!”
Mummy’s voice drifted up from downstairs. “Put baby on the potty first and then pop her in the bath, will you Bonnie?” I’ll come and help you get her dressed in a little while, when I’m finished with Angie.”
“Okay Aunty Isy,” Bonnie loudly replied. She shuffled into the room grinning broadly at me.

“How’s my precious little Baby Jennie? Did she have a good sleepy-byes?” Bonnie cooed to me. I silently nodded, smiling sleepily around the guard of my dum-dums in reply. The first thing I noticed was that Bonnie was wearing a full face of make-up again, and she looked much happier with her pretty features enhanced by her usual thick coating of war-paint. She unlocked the crib side with her foot and caught the heavy steel rail as it dropped, and then reached in to prod the crotch of my nappy. She giggled when she felt my hard stiffie poking out the front of my pink plastic panties, and then squeezed my warm wet nappy crotch to assess the damage. “Who’s an excited, wet little baby girl?” Bonnie crooned teasingly. She reached in and grabbed me under the armpits, answering her own question. “My Baby Jennie is, that’s who!” She lifted me out of the crib and carried me over to the change table. “Come on, darling. Let’s change you out of that poopy wet nappy.”

I wondered how she knew I was dirty? Even though I could feel I was messy, I couldn’t smell it. I didn’t realise my nose had become accustomed to the familiar earthy scent of my own waste. Bonnie removed my frilly bibbie and my pink cotton nightie, and thoughtfully unclipped my dummy chain first so I could keep sucking the comforting amber teat. I smiled up at her gratefully as she gently turned my body and lay me on my back. “Lift that botty, baby girl,” she sang, and I kept smiling up at her as I readily obeyed. “Good baby, and down,” Bonnie cooed after she tugged down my glistening baby panties. “Now lift those widdle footsies in the air and ballerina toesies.” She tugged my pink plastic panties down my legs and over my compliantly-pointed toesies, and tossed them in my nappy bucket.

My stiff clittie hadn’t gone down at all, and she rested her palm on the warm wet front of my nappy and lovingly squeezed me through the clinging soggy cloth. A tiny moan of pleasure escaped my swollen pink lips, and Bonnie’s indulgent smile became a broad grin. She released my pounding clittie and unpinned my diaper, and poked the pins into the bar of soap on the shelf above. She lowered my nappy front and pretended to be surprised when she saw the mess between my legs - and my stiff little tool. “Oh my, Baby Jennie!” she softly cried, raising her delicately-plucked eyebrows in faux-horror. “Some little baby girl has been having an awfully good time in her nap-naps, hasn’t she?” Even though her words were mocking, her forgiving smile and her gentle teasing tone assured me she wasn’t really upset with me.

There was only a small amount of dark-brown poop staining the crotch of my drenched pink nappy, and Bonnie had no trouble collecting most of the squishy mess in the disposable liners. Once she had the disposable blue cloth liners folded in the soaker pad and thrown the packed orange nappy sack into the plastic-lined bin, she pulled a handful of baby wipes from the tub. She carefully scrubbed between my cheeks and under my ball sack, taking her time. My rock-hard clittie bobbed stiffly above my tummy, and it pulsated madly when my smirking cousin gave it a thorough going-over with the soothing moist wipes, too. When she was sure I was clean, she grabbed my stiff little tool in her large hand, smiling indulgently at me when she gave the pulsating shaft several quick affectionate squeezes that left me shuddering in arousal.

I mewled in disappointment when she relaxed her stimulating grip. She giggled as she scooped me under the armpits and lifted me down to the floor. “Crawl into the bathroom and we’ll put you on the potty, Baby Jennie,” Bonnie gently instructed me. I shuffled into the en-suite with my stiffie noisily slapping against my bare tummy, and waited patiently beside my low pink chair. My grinning cousin followed close behind and she lifted me up and sat me in my potty-chair. It took her several attempts to stuff my hard clittie under the pink plastic scoop in front, and I shuddered when she gripped it tightly and forced the purple head down. I had to lean my head down almost to my knees so she could slide the swollen tip past the plastic lip. I gave a low groan of pain when the rough edge scraped against the sensitive eye of my pounding clittie.

Bonnie made me sit back so she could loop the thin leather seatbelt around me, and she pulled the end tight before buckling it behind the back of my chair. Only then did she unlock my baby mittens with the key Mummy provided, and she slid the pink leather bonds from my numb hands with a sympathetic smile. “You have a lovely little sit on your pot-pot darling, while I get everything ready for you for the party,” Bonnie cooed. Her loving smile was so genuine, I felt myself beaming up at her in return. She put the plug in the bath and turned on the taps, and a thunderous stream of hot water started to fill the tub. My voluptuous cousin’s baby-blue cotton frock rode up her back when she leaned across to adjust the temperature, giving me a fabulous view of her huge bulging bottom. There were droplets of moisture visible inside her transparent pink plastic panties, and her sodden pink nappies sagged wetly against her drooping crotch. She stood and tossed me a quick smile as she squirted a generous helping of bubble bath into the streaming water. Then she disappeared into my Nursery, but the bath made too much noise for me to hear what she was doing in there.

She left me sitting on the potty for about ten minutes, I guess. When she returned to the bathroom she hurried straight to the bubble-filled tub to turn off the taps. Bonnie checked the water temperature, nodded in satisfaction, and then turned to me with an inquiring smile. “Did you do anything in your potty, Baby Jennie?” she gently asked, nodding hopefully when I gazed up blankly at her pretty smiling face.

Her expression turned sad when I shook my head and mumbled around the teat of my dum-dums, “No Bonnie, nuffin.” She took a quick peek between my legs and she nodded in satisfaction when she noticed my excitable clittie had shrunk to a more manageable size.
“Baby girl?” she gently reprimanded me. “We don’t want to wet or poop our nappies at the party, do we?” When I frowned and shook my head in silent denial, she continued, “No, that’s right. So we have to try and do our business on the potty, right here, right now. Don’t we?”

I sucked harder on my dum-dums and numbly nodded, and watched with wide eyes as Bonnie crouched down right in front of me. Her meaty brown thighs were splayed carelessly wide, so I had a perfect view up her too-short baby-blue frock. I couldn’t help staring at her bulging pink plastic panty crotch. I eyed the sodden nappies underneath, trying to figure out how wet she was. “Come on darling. Try and do something on your potty. Take a deep breath, hold it, and push down hard,” she kindly instructed. I wasn’t sure if her detailed instructions were part of the caring maternal role Bonnie had chosen to play with me today, or if she had actually forgotten I was really a teenage boy who knew how to use the toilet. In my confusion, I sat there staring stupidly at her nappy crotch, until she snapped her fingers under my nose.

“Look up here, baby. Baby Jennie! Look at my face. That’s better,” she chuckled forgivingly, and smiled briefly. “Now concentrate, little girl. Take a deep breath, baby, then hold it, and push down with your tummy muscles. Like this,” she added, as she matched her actions to her words. She took a deep breath and held it, pointing at her face. Her cheeks bulged like a chipmunk’s and they turned red when she grunted with effort and strained down with her lower abdomen. Like an obedient toddler, I automatically mimicked her actions on my potty. “Oh!” Bonnie cried in alarm, and she released her breath in an explosive gasp. A look of horror swept across her beautiful painted face and she glanced down between her wide-splayed thighs, her pink cheeks turning red again. “Oh no!” I stopped pushing and watched with wide eyes as my cousin slowly clambered upright.

Bonnie reached behind her with both hands and grabbed her padded bottom, pressing the seat of her of her nappy against her bum like a hapless toddler trying to stop pooping her pants. She stood there unmoving for a few seconds, and a look of stunned anguish crept across her pretty face. “Oh God no,” she moaned. Her expression was so tragic, I felt sorry for her.
“Are you okay, Bonnie?” I mumbled in concern.
She glanced down at me and gamut of emotions ran across her face. She looked horrified, embarrassed and ashamed - and yet she appeared grateful for my concern. “I- I guess so,” she slowly muttered in reply. “I just- I just pooped myself,” she reluctantly confessed, her huge golden eyes glistening with unshed tears.

I gazed up at the humiliated teen in confusion. “But you’re wearing a nappy, and it’th wocked on. You don’t have any choithe,” I sensibly pointed out.
“I know, I know,” she responded sadly. “I hate it! I feel so dirty and disgusting!” She delicately shuddered in shame.
“But Bonnie? I thought you wiked wearing nappieth?” I lisped in confusion. She crouched down in front of me again, and I saw her grimace at the exquisite feeling of the warm sticky waste in her clinging wet nappy smearing smoothly across her curvaceous round bottom cheeks. How well I knew that erotic feeling!

“Only sometimes,” she quietly replied, and her cheeks turned pink at the admission. “And I never liked to poop them!” She sighed heavily and her pretty face fell. “I hate being treated like a baby,” Bonnie slowly admitted. “I only like to wear nappies sometimes, for wetting, or for… for doing cummies in,” she hesitantly explained. Her cheeks blushed a darker shade as she confessed the truth to me. “I’m not a big baby - like you. I’m what you call a ‘diaper lover’.” I stared at her pink-cheeked face in surprise. I didn’t realise there were ‘sub-classifications’ of my infantile fetish. “Let me check your potty, baby girl,” Bonnie cooed, in an obvious attempt to change the embarrassing topic of conversation. She spread my thighs wide and gave a little cry of delight. “Oh good girl! What a clever baby girl,” she enthusiastically praised me. “You did a big wee-wee and a little poo-poo in your potty! Look!”

Sure enough, when I peeked down into my pink potty, there was a shallow puddle of yellow urine with a tiny dark-brown turd island sitting in the centre. I had no idea I had performed so well! I honestly hadn’t felt anything come out of either end! But I basked in her glowing words of praise, and let her wipe the dribbling end of my flaccid clittie and my dirty bot-bot clean with a few bunches of toilet paper. Bonnie removed the seatbelt and helped me stagger to the bath, and after fitting the snug pink nylon shower cap over my halo of platinum curls, she plucked out my dum-dums and lifted me in. She emptied my potty into the grown-up’s toilet while I slowly lowered my bottom into the strawberry-scented bubbles, sighing with pleasure as the hot water enveloped me.

Bonnie took off her dress before bathing me, and again I marvelled at her tiny wasp waist. Her swaying tanned breasts were enormous inside their lacy hammock, and her padded hips looked as wide as a battleship. Her bulging wet bottom protruded like an old-fashioned ladies’ bustle. She stepped over to the bath dressed only in her tautly packed, locked pink plastic panties and her pretty lace-cup bra. Her sensitive stiffening nipples poked out temptingly through the sheer netting. I could tell by the way her baby panties sagged between her legs that my embarrassed cousin had already drenched her thick pink nappies more than once, as well as pooped in them. She knelt beside the tub and soaped up a warm wet washcloth, and she was gentle as a lamb when she scrubbed every nook and cranny of my squirming little body. She made me climb onto my hands and knees so she could scour between my botty cheeks, and when she delicately probed my sensitive little hole with the warm dripping flannel, I decided to ask her opinion on something.

“Bonnie?” I hesitantly asked, and she looked at me with those questioning golden eyes.
“Yes, baby girl? What is it?” Bonnie softly inquired.
“What should you do, if a boy twied to - tried to shove hith peenie in there?” She looked at me in surprise when I reached back with one hand for a moment, and pointed at my rosebud.

“What? In there?” Bonnie demanded, poking my wrinkled pink opening for emphasis. I nodded silently, my cheeks instantly turning rosy with shame for some reason. “I’d flatten him!” she loudly declared, with such ferocity I believed her. Then her fierce expression became concerned. “Baby Jennie? Did a boy try to put his thing in your bottom, baby girl?” I grimaced and nodded, and she frowned in sympathy. “Who, darling? Who did that to you, and when?”
“It wath David from nextht door,” I reluctantly confessed. She looked both shocked and angry on my behalf.

“That musclebound freak? When, baby? When did David do that to you?” Bonnie demanded in quiet fury.
“A few dayth ago, when he wath babythitting uth,” I shyly admitted. I couldn’t understand why I felt so ashamed. Tears of mortification pricked my eyes, making me blink rapidly. “It wathn’t my fault,” I hastened to explain. My buxom cousin merely shook her head in scorn.

“Oh you poor darling! Of course it wasn’t your fault, silly! You’re just a baby! He took advantage of you! That bastard! Have you told your Mummy yet?” I silently shook my head as the unstoppable tears started trickling down my steam-dampened cheeks. “Oh Baby Jennie! You have to tell your Mummy right away!” Bonnie forcefully insisted.

We both jumped when Mummy came silently striding into the en-suite bathroom in her whisper-quiet white sneakers. “That’s the most sensible thing I’ve heard you say in weeks, Bonnie!” she praised my cousin with a tight smile. Whatever urine remained in my bladder squirted out of me in fright. The bath water was so much hotter than my thin stream, I barely realised it was happening. Mummy knelt beside the bubble-filled tub to gaze at my face in concern. “Baby Jennie?” She tenderly cooed, “Tell Mummy what happened with David last week, baby girl. Tell Mummy all about it.”

I burst into tears at the concern in her voice, and it took me about fifteen minutes to tell the whole story of what happened. I told them how he came to me in my crib and stole the dum-dums out of mouth, and replaced it with his big hard cock, and how he held my pigtails to make me keep sucking him. And then when he changed my nappy, he fingered me until I was so wet and open, and then he put his stiff rod inside my boy-pussy. But I couldn’t tell Mummy how excited it made me, or that when he buried his enormous hard cock deep inside me, he made me cum all over myself!

Both women looked shocked and horrified on my behalf when they learned David had emptied a load of baby juice both into my mouth and up my bum while he was supposed to be babysitting me. “Oh God, I can’t believe it,” Mummy finally moaned. She tightly clutched my frothy wet body to her bosom, not caring that her fawn cotton blouse was saturated. “My poor little darling girl! He raped you!” she cried, at last putting a name to the heinous act. I wrapped my dripping arms around her slender neck and wailed afresh, and Mummy soothed me with comforting words as she tightly cuddled me. “You poor baby. Oh my poor, poor, darling little girl!” When my sobs began to slow, she relaxed her grip slightly. “That bastard boy raped my poor little baby girl!” she seethed. I didn’t realise she was mentally castigating herself for ever leaving me in that nasty brute’s care.

“You’ll have to take her to the doctor and get her checked, to make sure she hasn’t picked up any nasty diseases,” Bonnie advised Mummy, and I burst into louder sobs when I realised even more people would learn of my shame.
“Shh, darling, shhh,” Mummy soothed me, stroking my shivering damp shoulders with her soft hands. “Everything will be alright.” To Bonnie she replied, “We have an appointment to see the doctor on Monday morning. I’ll get them to give her a blood test and check her for any signs of infection while we’re there,” Mummy frostily declared.

“What about the police, or some kind of authority? Shouldn’t you report this? Or at least, speak to David’s parents?” Bonnie inquired, and we were both surprised when Mummy paused for thought and then shook her head.
“No Bonnie. Your mother is coming over this afternoon to have a special talk with me. I’ll tell Cath about this first, and see what she advises,” Mummy decided. “Since your father left, she’s our resident legal expert.” She gave me another loving hug and then released me to stand upright. “Oh my goodness! Look at my top!” She sighed heavily as she drew the transparent wet blouse away from her swaying breasts. You could clearly see the daring white satin, demi-cup bra she was wearing underneath. “I better go and change while you diaper the baby and start getting her ready for the party,” she advised Bonnie. “Don’t worry about David, baby girl,” Mummy reassured me before she left the bathroom. “Mummy and Aunty Cath will take care of everything!”

For a moment, I felt almost sorry for my handsome, musclebound, next-door neighbour. Just for one brief moment. Bonnie gently scrubbed my face again to wash away my salty tears, and she tickled me and playfully splashed me until I was squirming around in the fading bubbles, giggling uncontrollably. I had never felt so clean by the time my smiling cousin emptied the cooling bath and wrapped a fluffy pink towel around me to lift me out. She made me hold onto the side of the tub for support while she slipped her baby-blue frock back over her shoulders, and she pulled it down to cover her drooping, dirty wet nappies.

Bonnie crooned to me in prattling toddler talk as she dried every inch of my shivering body, and I smiled up at her gratefully when she picked me up and thrust me over her padded hip, rather than making me crawl out to the change table. I was delighted to see one of my puffy pink disposable diapers already laid out ready and waiting for me on the pink padded table, and I smiled happily as my beaming cousin gently centred my freshly-scrubbed botty on top of the open diaper. My frothy pink and white tutu was hanging from the railing of my crib, and my fairy wings and brilliant tiara were laid out ready for me on top of my dresser. Bonnie made a big show of covering me from chin to crotch with the lightly-perfumed baby powder, and she took her sweet time rubbing it in. By the time she reached my clittie it was already swollen with excitement. I hoped Mummy wouldn’t walk in while she used her powdery fist to make sure every inch of my throbbing little tool was well covered in soothing white talc.

Bonnie grinned down at my flushed red face and my raging stiffie, and gave me a conspiratorial wink - along with a few firm erotic squeezes that left me gasping in arousal. She crisply dusted her hands together and gave them a quick once-over with a baby wipe, and then drew the rustling pink disposable around my hips and taped it securely in place. She covered the papery pink diaper with my smallest, tightest pair of transparent pink plastic panties, telling me “These ones won’t droop down your legs so much, and probably wouldn’t show under your leotard panties.” I raised my head and smiled gratefully up at her, and when I looked down to where my hard clittie was pressed against my tummy, I could clearly see the bulge of my tenting pink baby panties.

When she lifted me down to finish dressing me, I was surprised at how easy it was to stand upright without the normal huge wad of cloth between my legs. “Gosh, baby girl,” Bonnie lovingly crooned, as she shook out my frothy ballerina outfit. “This is a gorgeous tutu! You’re going to look so pretty when I finish getting you ready!” She smiled tenderly down at me as she confidently boasted, “I’m going to make sure you’re the most beautiful Fairy Princess at the party!” I daintily stepped into the leotard she held down and open for me. I couldn’t help shivering with excitement when she drew the stretchy baby-pink bodice over my puffy pink baby panties. I clutched her broad bare shoulders for support and gripped her tightly, but my nose wrinkled and my top lip instinctively curled in disgust when I caught a whiff of the acrid contents of her dirty nappy.

Bonnie arranged the white fur-trimmed shoulder straps in place, and then twisted my wide-flared swishing skirts to settle them properly about my lightly-padded hips. She sat me back on the change table to slip some sheer white cotton socks over my feet, and she slid my dusky-pink ballet slippers over them and tied the long laces around my ankles and over my calves. “Come with me, darling,” she cooed invitingly, and she lifted me down and led me over to the bench seat in front of the vanity mirror. I sat on the seat in a mass of noisily rustling tulle, my frothy skirts swishing around my hips like an effervescent pink and white cloud. Bonnie’s hot-pink toolbox lay open on the vanity, and she had a selection of brushes and pots of make-up already laid out ready and waiting.

My talented cousin used a tiny foam-ended stick to smear some baby-blue eye shadow over my lids first, telling me; “It matches your pretty blue eyes, sweetheart!” Then Bonnie used some white cream eye shadow on top, all the way up to my delicate arched eyebrows. She took her time, blending in the tints and making sure both sides were completely even. She smiled happily at the results as she brushed some jet-black mascara on my lengthened lashes, then she darkened and tidied up my delicate tattooed eyebrows with a tiny pencil. A small amount of black eyeliner followed, and then she used the mink-soft brush to dust some pink blusher on my glowing ruddy cheeks.

She didn’t need to use a lip-liner any more - the permanent stain had taken care of that. Instead she smiled broadly when I eagerly stretched my lips appropriately wide so she could paint them with a creamy pink lipstick. The lightly-perfumed lipstick rolled luxuriously across my puffy pink lips, and I softly smacked and rubbed them together the way she had taught me, loving the luscious creamy feel on my sensitive swollen lips. “Good girl!” Bonnie praised me, as I expertly evened out my lippy, apparently surprised that I managed to remember her instructions from the last time she prettied-up my face. “I’ll have to teach you how to put on your own lipstick soon, little girl!” I beamed happily at the thought. I would love to try putting on my own make-up!

I gazed in wonder at the mirror, staring at my beautiful painted face. Once again Bonnie had craftily accentuated my features to make me appear much younger - and much prettier. The face of a beautiful little girl smiled happily back at me, and I squealed in unabashed delight. Bonnie smiled indulgently at my excited girlish cries, and she took a barrel brush from her toolbox and brushed out my curls, before settling the comb ends of my jewel-laden silver tiara in place on my head. I watched in the mirror with wide eyes as she buckled the pink and white fairy wings around my trembling chest and shoulders, and when she was finished, I rocked my upper body to and fro to make my silk wings flap realistically. The subtle movements caused my stiff seeping clittie to slide erotically over the pre-cum dampened front of my puffy pink disposable, where my tight leotard panties pressed against me. I shivered at the secret sensuous caresses.

I jumped to my feet and threw my arms around my diapered cousin’s slender waist. I didn’t care that she smelled like a poopy baby. “Oh Bonnie! Thank you! Thank you!” I gratefully cried, and tears of joy filled my rapidly-blinking eyes.
“Don’t cry, darling,” Bonnie cautioned me with a wry smile. “You’ll ruin your make-up!” She held me at arm’s length so she could critically inspect my painted face, and she smiled happily at the results she had achieved. “Gosh, Baby Jennie!” she exclaimed in delight, “You’re absolutely beautiful! I swear you’re going to be the prettiest little girl at the party!”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Mummy crisply stated as she strode into the Nursery with Angelica trotting at her heels. Mummy was wearing the same baby-pink dress she had worn to Church this morning, and she looked so much taller in her high-heeled pink court shoes. My sister looked gorgeous in her pretty pink tutu and fairy wings, a bejewelled silver tiara sparkling on her head. Angie was wearing her normal pink-frilled anklet socks, but I noticed she was wearing a new pair of pink patent Maryjanes this afternoon - and her gleaming new single-strap shoes had at least a two-inch heel! I couldn’t believe how much taller she looked, and she was managing to walk in her grown-up stacked heels with no trouble at all. I suddenly felt envious of my more grown-up sister.

“Gosh Mummy!” Angelica exclaimed, “Baby Jennie looks beautiful!” She looked a trifle jealous when she asked our beaming cousin, “Could you do my face, too? Please Aunty Bonnie?”
“Of course, darling,” Bonnie smoothly replied. “Come and sit over here, and I’ll make you look gorgeous, too.”

She led my bubbling sister to the vanity seat but as she sat down, Angie shrilly complained, “I can smell poo-poo!” She turned to glare accusingly at me. “Did you poop your nappy already, Baby Jennie?” Angelica frostily demanded. My mother stared down at me in rising contempt.

I felt the weight of the world lift from my shoulders when Bonnie replied in a tiny meek voice, “No, Angie. That must be me.” Angelica stared up at her with wide disbelieving eyes, but she made no comment when Mummy stepped behind our cringing red-faced cousin and lifted the back of her short blue frock to expose her bulging pink plastic panties. Mummy pulled the tightly-chained baby panties away from the small of Bonnie’s back and bent closer to take a quick whiff. I had to smile when Mummy rapidly pulled her face away, grimacing in disgust at the overpowering stench released by her actions.

“Oh my goodness! You did, too, Bonnie!” Mummy commented in dismay. She released the waistband of her baby panties and let Bonnie’s frock hem drop back into place. “Oh well,” she sighed dismissively. “Your mother will be back soon. She can take care of her messy big baby girl then.” Mummy stepped over to me and took hold of my shoulders, and she carefully inspected my painted face and my feminine appearance. “Lift up your skirts, darling,” Mummy cooed, and I obediently gathered up my frothy tulle skirts in front and raised them over my tummy. “Mummy just needs to check her beautiful little baby girl is properly dressed.”

She reached down and grabbed hold of the slippery front of my lycra leotard crotch, squeezing my stiff clittie right through my baby panties and my thin disposable diaper. “Good girl, you’re wearing your diaper,” she crooned in approval. Mummy gave my pulsating clittie a few thrilling squeezes that made me shudder in ecstasy. I didn’t realise tiny drops of lubricating pre-cum were already dampening the front of my diaper, making it wonderfully slippery in the crotch. Mummy released me and I let my skirts drop and shyly smoothed them over my tenting crotch. She smiled down at me and nodded in approval at my demure feminine actions. “I almost can’t tell you’re wearing a diaper under there,” Mummy congratulated me, but then her expression turned forbidding. “Make sure you keep that diaper dry and ask for the potty like a big girl this afternoon, Baby Jennie,” she warned me. “Otherwise it’s back to proper cloth nappies for you for the remainder of the party. Understand?” Her ruthless reminder wiped the happy smile from my face, and I sombrely nodded up at her.
“Yeth Mummy.”

“Are you almost finished doing Angelica’s face?” Mummy asked Bonnie, who nodded.
“One more minute and I’m done,” our cousin replied without looking up.
“Good,” Mummy grunted. “It’s almost two o’clock now, and -” She was interrupted by the ringing of our front doorbell. “That will probably be your Aunty Cath, girls,” Mummy stated, and she turned and headed for the landing. “I’ve already packed Baby Jennie’s diaper bag. Bring it and the girls downstairs when you’ve finished with Angelica, Bonnie. Okay?”
“Yes Ma’am,” the buxom teenager humbly replied.

To be continued in chapter 36.
Any comments?
Baby Jennie

Synopsis; Mummy Isabell takes Angelica and Baby Jennie to the Fairy Princess party.

Chapter 36. The Fairy Princess Party.

“Oh my God!” Aunty Cath squealed as Bonnie led Angie and me traipsing down the stairs in a frothy cloud of pink and white tulle. Cath had the camcorder eyepiece pressed to her face and the red light was glowing to indicate she was recording this historic moment. “I can’t believe how beautiful they look! What a gorgeous pair of Fairy Princesses!” Angie of course, was beaming in delight at our grinning Aunt’s effusive praise. I had to admit - I couldn’t wipe the delighted smile from my pretty painted face either. I knew I looked like a perfect little six or seven-year-old girl, and with my feminised features enhanced by Bonnie’s fabulous make-up job, I felt sure no one would ever suspect I was a sissified teenage boy dressed as a sweet little Fairy Princess.

When Bonnie released my hand at the bottom of the steps, I skipped towards my grinning Aunty Cath, my frothy tulle skirts swishing noisily about my hips. I stopped a few feet in front of her, beaming with happiness as I plucked the edges of my bouncing skirt and performed a dainty curtsey for the video camera, like a perfect little ballerina. My giggling sister dashed over beside me and tried to imitate me, and we gave Mummy and Bonnie a spectacular view of the frilly lace ruffles decorating our little padded bottoms while we sweetly curtsied for Aunty Cath. “You both look adorable!” Aunty praised us with a delighted smile when she lowered the camcorder from her face, but I noticed she kept the lens pointed at me and it was still recording.

“You can hardly tell she’s diapered,” Bonnie commented to Mummy, who inspected my bobbing ruffled bot-bot and nodded in agreement.
“You certainly can’t tell Angie is wearing a pull-up,” Mummy rejoined. “My little girls look so grown-up in their pretty ballet dresses.” She sighed heavily, as if she regretted the fact that her time enjoying her toddlers was fast slipping away. Mummy seemed to gather herself and she loudly clapped her hands to attract our attention. “Girls! Come out to the kitchen and I’ll give you the presents I bought for Daisy.”

Cath kept recording as Angie and I gaily skipped ahead of the adults, but Mummy tapped her sister on the shoulder when she went to walk past. “I think your big baby girl needs a change of nappy,” she mentioned to Cath, who turned to look back at the blushing teenager in astonishment. I paused in the doorway to the kitchen and glanced back at the assembled women.
“What? Is she wet through already?” Cath demanded in surprise. She stepped closer to her embarrassed daughter and indicated that Bonnie should raise the front of her frock.

“Pretty much,” Mummy carefully replied, “although that isn’t the main problem. No, your big baby has done-”
“-a nasty big poo-poo in her nap-nap!” Aunty Cath condescendingly completed the sentence for her concerned sister, when she caught a whiff of Bonnie’s messy condition. Cath shook her head in contempt at her daughter’s smelly wet state and grimaced in disgust. “What a dirty baby girl!” She released the waistband of Bonnie’s chained baby panties and pointed upstairs. “Leave the baby’s change bag there on the bottom step, then up to the Nursery, Baby Bonnie,” she barked at her humiliated pink-cheeked daughter. “Mummy needs to change her dirty baby girl out of that nasty stinky nappy right away.”

Bonnie left my pink-checked diaper bag on the step and slowly slunk upstairs in a shuffling, wide-legged waddle, her bulging bottom poking out prominently. I thought the red-faced girl was blushing with embarrassment and trying to avoid spreading the nasty mess in her nappy all over the place. I didn’t realise she was actually straining to push out more poo-poos as she waddled along, trying to completely empty her bowels. She figured she was already dirty, and she wanted to avoid another humiliating messy nappy change anytime soon. After Aunty Cath collected the other pink vinyl change bag from the dining room table, she swiftly followed Bonnie upstairs, loudly smacking the drooping seat of her slowly waddling daughter’s pink plastic panties to encourage her on her way.

Mummy strode down the hallway towards us and I hurried to stand beside the kitchen bench, clutching the yellow formica top for support and trying to act like I hadn’t been spying on my poopy wet cousin. There were two wrapped presents sitting on the bench, and I admired the pretty pink wrapping paper with the pattern of little ballerinas and ballet shoes all over. There was a small gift and a larger one, both tied with hot-pink ribbon, with big fancy curly bows on top. A colourful ballerina birthday card lay open on the bench top, with a pen lying atop it, all ready for us to sign. Mummy stepped closer to the yellow bench in her click-clacking pink heels and started writing in the card. When she finished, she pushed it towards my sister and handed her the pen. “Angie darling? Can you try and write your name here for Mummy, like we practiced?”

My sister nodded enthusiastically, and her little tongue poked out to one side of her mouth when she concentrated on clumsily forming the letters of her name. “Good girl!” Mummy praised her, as she took the pen from Angie’s hand. “What a clever big girl you are for Mummy.”
Angie turned to glance at me with that superior smirk twisting her pretty pink-painted lips. “Are you going to let the baby try and write her name too, Mummy? I think she might be too little,” my sister haughtily informed her.

“No darling, that’s alright,” Mummy assured her with a tight smile for me. “I already signed it for Baby Jennie.” Sure enough, when she held up the open card to show to us, I saw she had written ‘Baby Jennie’ for me beside Angelica’s barely-legible scrawl, and my cheeks turned pink with fresh shame. Seeing my femme name written on something that someone else would keep, kind of made my name-change seem somehow more ‘official.’ Mummy eased the brightly-coloured birthday card into a hot-pink envelope, and handed the bigger present and the card to my smug-faced sister. It was as though our mother saw Angelica as the more responsible one, and I tried not to frown in disappointment when Mummy handed me the smaller, gaily-wrapped package to carry.

Aunty Cath and Bonnie joined us a few minutes later. From the way my hang-dog, shame-faced cousin slowly waddled towards us, I assumed her messy nappy change had been an incredibly mortifying experience. I didn’t learn until much later that our vindictive Aunty had set the camcorder on my dresser and aimed the lens at the change table. She left it recording while she was changing Bonnie’s soiled nappy, scolding her humiliated daughter like a naughty toddler the entire time. Pink-cheeked Bonnie carried my packed pink-checked diaper bag over one shoulder, and my stern-faced Aunty whispered instructions to her all the way down the hallway. When she strode into the kitchen ahead of her daughter, Aunty Cath aimed the camcorder at us and cried, “Are you ready for the party, Princesses?”

Angie and I squealed assent like two excited little girls, bouncing up and down on the spot and twisting our hips to make our bobbing tulle skirts noisily swish and sway. When we settled down, Aunty Cath turned to Mummy and clutched her arm. “Bonnie will go with you to the party, and she’ll stay and take care of the girls when you come back.” Mummy nodded in understanding and our Aunty continued, “I’ll meet you back here around three-thirty. But you’ll have to leave the party a little earlier than that, to change into that leather outfit I gave you first, remember?
Mummy looked confused. “But why, Cath? Why do you want me to change into that fancy-dress outfit? I don’t understand?”

Aunty Cath tossed her younger sister a salacious smile. “Well, apart from the fact that you look sexy as hell in that outfit… I’ll never forget how good you looked when you modelled it for me, before that ‘B&D’ fancy-dress party you and Brett attended… what was it? Four years ago?” Mummy looked shocked that Cath would bring up such a delicate subject in front of the children, and she gave her grinning sister a sharp warning shake of the head. “Don’t worry, sis,” Aunty Cath scoffed, waving away her fears. “Just make sure you’re dressed in that black outfit I gave you, and put on a full face before I come back at three-thirty.” When Mummy looked ready to object, Cath held up her palm to silence her. “Ah-ah-ah! Remember what I told you? I promise,” she grinned, repeating for emphasis, “I promise to make it worth your while!”

Cath handed Mummy the camcorder and stepped closer to her silently cringing daughter, and then chucked Bonnie under the chin in a deliberately condescending gesture. “As for you, Baby Bonnie? Make sure you keep an eye on your cousins, little girl, and behave yourself. If I hear one word about you misbehaving, I’ll make sure you regret it for a long, long time.” Bonnie actually quaked in fright at her mother’s heartless warning. “Don’t forget. You’re to stay at the party with your little cousins until either I or your Aunt Isabell come to collect you. Got it, Baby Bonnie?” The humbled teen timidly nodded in mute understanding.

“Come on girls,” Mummy brightly cried, trying to break the suddenly-oppressive mood. “Let’s go to the party!” She tucked her pink clutch purse under her arm and took Angie’s hand, and motioned for Bonnie to do the same with me. I clutched my gaily-wrapped present in one hand and Bonnie’s large sweaty paw in the other. “See you later, Cath.” Mummy led us through the back door and we headed for the oleander bushes separating our property from the Green’s back yard. I think I would have been happier if I hadn’t noticed Mummy carrying Cath’s camcorder in her other hand.

I could hear the shrill sound of happy feminine voices as we approached the bushes. When we squeezed through the widest gap between the spiky oleanders, there were about a dozen squealing little girls running around the green plastic garden furniture laid out in the spacious back yard. There was only one mother visible outside the house, and I didn’t recognise the mid-thirties brunette standing on the lawn. She was clutching the hand of a diapered toddler girl who looked about two years old, whose little face looked overawed by the whirling mass of femininity surrounding her. Most of the girls twirling around in their tutus looked at least seven or eight years old, and I soon learned that Daisy had invited only a couple of friends from her class at school.

Most of the bigger girls were from Daisy and Sally’s ballet school, and some of the ballerinas from Daisy’s dance class were several years older than her. My little fingers anxiously scrabbled across the slippery satiny bodice of my gleaming lycra tutu, unconsciously searching for my missing dum-dums. I was so nervous, my stiff clittie gradually shrank away to nothing in terrified anticipation, unaware that more drops of pre-cum were seeping out to moisten the slick front of my crinkling diaper. What if everyone knew I was just a sissy boy dressed like a beautiful ballerina? Would they tease me unmercifully? And what if they knew I was wearing a diaper! I shuddered at the potential humiliation, and instinctively clutched Bonnie’s hand even tighter.

The first person I recognised was my best friend Sally. Our next-door neighbour was dressed in a gleaming baby-blue tutu with darker blue tulle skirts sticking out stiffly at right angles from her hips. It reminded me of the tutu the brunette ten-year-old in the dance wear shop had been trying on yesterday - except Sally’s stretchy pale-blue bodice clung like a shiny sheath to her tiny waist and developing feminine curves. She had a pair of huge blue and white fairy wings strapped to her shoulders, too, decorated with gold glitter. Instead of a tiara, she wore a bejewelled golden crown littered with sparkling diamantes. Sally looked like a gorgeous Fairy Queen, not a little Princess. From this distance, her face looked beautiful painted with a layer of thick theatrical make-up, enhanced by her delighted smile as she gazed around at the frothy squealing fairies scampering around the garden. There were bright balloons tied to every available hanging point, and their clothes line was festooned with colourful streamers.

When Sally spied us threading our way through the bushes, she trotted over to greet us in a pair of gleaming white ballet flats. They had wide silk laces which were tied around her slender tanned calves in an attractive crisscross pattern. “Hello Mrs Ryan! Hello girls,” she cried in greeting, smiling in delight at my beautified feminine appearance and batting her long false eyelashes. Sally crouched down in front of me, grinning gleefully. “Baby Jennie! Wow! Don’t you look beautiful! Who did your make-up, baby girl?”

I turned and glanced up at my cousin as Bonnie softly replied, “I did.”
“It’s Bonnie, isn’t it?” Sally asked as she stood upright. When my tall cousin shyly nodded, she continued enthusiastically, “I’m Sally. Gosh, you’re talented! I’ve never seen her look so gorgeous! Either of them,” she added, thoughtfully including my beaming sister.

Bonnie’s mood lifted and she actually managed a small smile when Sally asked, “Do you think you could show me how to do my face like that? I don’t mean now,” she hurried to explain, turning to glance pointedly at the screaming rabble behind her. “But later? When the girls have settled down a little bit?”
“Sure, Sally,” Bonnie replied with an easy smile, but I noticed her painted cheeks turned pink with pleasure. “I’ll have to get my toolbox from the house though,” she amended with a nod towards our house.
“Go and get it now, Bonnie,” Mummy sharply advised her. “We don’t want you coming back to the house until it’s time to fetch you, remember?” Bonnie nodded with a sheepish smile, and released my hand to clumsily turn back towards the oleander bushes. I wondered what Mummy and Aunty Cath needed to discuss without any of us kids present?

“Cool!” Sally responded, her ice-blue eyes sparkling. Bonnie paused and turned back, shrugging my diaper bag from her shoulder and glancing inquiringly at Sally. “I’ll take the baby’s diaper bag,” the grinning thirteen-year-old kindly offered, holding out her hand. She slipped my loaded change bag over her shoulder, and Bonnie gave her a grateful smile. Sally turned to Mummy and suggested, “Why don’t you let me take your girls over to the birthday girl, and you can go and have a drink with the grown-ups?” She reached out and took my hand, and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Mum’s opened a couple of icy-cold bottles of French champagne in the kitchen,” Sally added temptingly.

Mummy’s polite smile instantly brightened, and she released Angie’s hand and took a half-step towards the house. She wobbled unsteadily when her narrow high heels sank into the grass, and she deftly shifted her weight onto the balls of her feet. “Really? That sounds like a lovely idea, Sally! Thank you. Alright girls, I’ll see you in a little bit. Anyway Sally, Bonnie can help you keep an eye on the girls. Right Bonnie?” Our departing cousin meekly nodded assent, and with a wave goodbye to us, Mummy carefully threaded her way through the fluffy throng of pastel-tinted tulle, billowing silk and frilly lace.

Sally wrapped her arms around my shoulders and gave me a reassuring cuddle, although it was a little awkward because of the vinyl-covered bag over her shoulder and the huge silk wings strapped to both our backs. She leaned down to whisper in my ear, “Don’t worry, Baby Jennie. You look absolutely adorable! No one would ever guess that there’s a dirty little boy hiding inside all that gorgeous frothy tulle and lace. You look like a beautiful little ballerina, sweetie! A perfect Fairy Princess!” I blushed from a combination of pleasure and embarrassment, but I think pleasure won the battle to colour my cheeks pink.

When Sally leaned back to examine my pretty painted face again, I smiled up at her gratefully. Then my smile faltered. “You didn’t tell anyone I wath coming dwethed like thith, did you?” I nervously asked.
“What?” Sally demanded with a teasing smile. “Me tell someone that the sissy baby boy from next door was coming to Daisy’s Fairy Princess party, dressed up like a beautiful ballerina?” I nodded fearfully and anxiously bit my puffy painted bottom lip, momentarily distracted by the pleasant taste of my lightly-perfumed lipstick. Sally laughed away my fears. “No Princess, I don’t think so. I haven’t mentioned a word of it. Not only that,” she hastened to reassure me, “I told Daisy not to tell anyone either, Baby Jennie. She promised she wouldn’t.” I gratefully beamed up at her, although I was less certain of Daisy’s ability to keep her word.

I didn’t know that during the many months we spent playing ballerina dress-ups in Sally’s garage last year, the girls had told all their friends at ballet school everything about me. They knew my (real) name and where I lived, and most of the girls in their dance classes had spent hours gossiping about my love of feminine clothes, my slight physical characteristics, my unfortunate wetting accidents, and my potential talent as a pretty ballerina. In the privacy of the change rooms, Sally and her closest friends had even discussed my suspected sexual proclivities. Their friends might not have known I was attending Daisy’s birthday party today, but almost everyone at the party knew about the effeminate little sissy boy who lived behind the girls’ place. But thankfully at that moment, I was totally unaware of my best girlfriend and her kid sister’s earlier betrayal.

“Thally?” I plaintively asked, “Can you pweathe not call me ‘Baby Jennie’ - at leatht not for thith afternoon?” I begged her, and she smiled and nodded in agreement. ‘Jutht call me Jennie, pweathe?
“Sure! Alright, darling,” Sally sweetly promised me, but then she had to giggle. “Today it will be plain old ‘Jennie’ - although there is nothing plain about you today, Princess! You really do make a gorgeous little girl!” My cheeks turned red with pleasure, and I had to shyly look away from her frank admiring stare.

Even though every girl within sight was prettily dressed in a gorgeous frothy tutu and billowing silk fairy wings, it appeared only Sally and I were wearing proper ballet slippers. A handful of the luckier girls wore beautiful diamante-studded tiaras, although Sally was the only fairy I could see wearing a gorgeous full crown on her flowing tawny locks. I loved the way our brilliant jewels flashed and sparkled in the bright afternoon sunshine. Most of the other little girls were wearing pretty white or pink-patent Maryjane sandals on their feet, and like Angie’s, their shoes had little heels - mostly two to three inches high. That meant apart from Angelica and the toddler with her mummy, almost every little girl at the party was taller than me, making me feel even more babyish by comparison.

Sally squeezed my hand and tilted her golden crown in regal indication. “Come on, girls. I’ll take you over to the birthday girl, and you can give her your presents.” She led us over to her sister Daisy, who was standing near the rear of the garage surrounded by a pastel-coloured throng of loudly chattering little girls. Their painted silk wings fluttered and swayed with their every movement, and they looked like a bunch of enormous butterflies clustered around Daisy, like a swarm of colourful insects squirming for space around a tropical flower dripping with sweet nectar. Most of the girls were wearing pink - of course - but in a variety of shades to stagger the eye. I saw ice-pink, pastel-pink and Barbie-pink tutus, including one dark-pink ballet outfit the colour of musk-stick lollies.

“Excuse me, girls?” Sally politely asked, even as she gently pushed a couple of frowning little Princesses out of the way. “Excuse me just for a minute,” she crisply commanded, like a queen speaking to her overattentive attendants. “Daisy? Angelica and Ba- and Jennie are here to wish you happy birthday.” Daisy looked gorgeous this afternoon in her brand-new, shiny white lycra tutu, with her iridescent silver and white fairy wings billowing behind her. She was wearing gleaming white-patent, single-strap Maryjanes on her dainty feet, with an impressive four-inch, chunky stacked heel. Her short blonde hair was teased up and out in a glamorous showgirl style, crowned by a sparkling silver tiara embedded with brilliant diamantes. Her mother had obviously done her make-up. As with Sally, she had laid it on a little thick, I thought a tad spitefully, unconsciously preening my swishing skirts as the gathered little girls turned to examine us.

“Hi Angie, hello… Jennie.” Daisy paused so long, everyone must have assumed she had momentarily forgotten my name - I hoped! “Don’t you both look gorgeous!”
“Tho do you,” I politely replied, smiling bravely back at her. “Happy birthday, Daithy.”
“Happy birthday Daisy,” my sister parroted beside me.
“Thanks. Girls, this is Ba- this is Jennie, and Angie. They’re my neighbours from next door. They live in the house behind ours,” she explained, pointing to our house. You could see our back veranda through the oleander bushes bordering our back yards, but fortunately, not my playpen. “Jennie and Angie, this is Gemma and Karen, and Mary and Mandy and Ella, and Susie and Joan and-”

I’m afraid I barely caught two of the pretty ballerinas’ names when Daisy introduced them with machine-gun rapidity. A couple of girls exchanged startled glances after they looked back from my house, and their polite smiles swiftly returned, despite the mischievous gleam in their wide innocent eyes. Mandy was the prettiest girl in the group of fairies, and although she was around the same height as Daisy, she looked a little older. Her pretty heart-shaped face, big brown eyes and full pink lips looked vaguely familiar, especially when she smiled down at me in that superior knowing manner. She was wearing a beautiful lavender tutu with stiff, dark-purple tulle skirts, flesh-coloured tights, and a pair of white patent-leather Maryjanes with a three-inch heel. When Daisy caught sight of my pink gingham change bag looped over Sally’s shoulder, her smile became a wicked grin. But the other girls’ smiles seemed completely open and welcoming, and when everyone nodded in greeting to us and politely said hello, I began to feel confident my feminine disguise had successfully passed the first hurdle.

I held out my present and nodded for Angie to do the same, and Daisy greedily snatched the card and gaily-wrapped parcels from our hands. She towered over me in her grown-up four-inch heels, and I shrank away from her lest she comment on the humiliating height difference. She opened the birthday card and barely glanced at it, although I saw her smile with cruel amusement when she noted whom it was from. “Oh goody! More presents!” The delighted seven-year-old squealed, and naturally Daisy ripped open the larger gift first. I didn’t notice the intrigued expression on pretty Mandy’s face, and after politely breaking away from our group of fairies, the cute little blonde scampered inside the Green’s house in a spray of purple tulle.

“Oh. Another tiara,” Daisy mumbled ungraciously, and from the bored expression on her thin angular face, she was obviously less than impressed. “And it’s silver.” She ignored Angie’s quick frown of displeasure and carelessly handed the jewel-encrusted tiara to one of her girlfriends to hold before she tore open the other smaller present. “I prefer gold these days,” she haughtily explained to her eagerly watching friends. “Most of my jewellery is gold nowadays,” she boasted, touching the fine gold chain around her neck with the tiny gold ballet shoes dangling at the hollow of her slender throat.

Daisy showily brushed back her hair, twisting her head from side to side so everyone could admire her gold stud earrings. I had a moment of spiteful superiority when I deliberately shook back my bouncing platinum curls to better display my own gold-wrapped, sparkling diamond studs. Apart from which - everyone knew wearing silver and gold together made you look cheap and slutty. Aunty Cath said so. After Daisy tore open the ballerina wrapping paper, she exclaimed in apparent delight. “Oh! A diamante bracelet! Cool!” she cried enthusiastically. She wrapped the twinkling bracelet around her slender right wrist and imperiously held out her forearm for her girlfriend to fasten the clasp.

Daisy held up her arm and twisted her wrist so that the multi-faceted jewels caught the sunlight. Colourful rainbows refracted in all directions, flashing brilliantly in our eyes. Several of her sycophantic offsiders cooed in admiration, and one older girl with black hair enviously commented, “It’s gorgeous, Daisy! Like a real diamond bracelet. Very ‘Marilyn Monroe’,” she added, although I doubt if any of the little girls clustered around us understood the old movie reference.
“Yeah, it’s okay. Thanks Jennie,” Daisy said to me in a much friendlier tone, and she actually deigned to look at my face. “I have to say; you look really pretty this afternoon. Who did your make-up? It looks fantastic!”

My cheeks turned pink with pleasure, and I felt sure my wide blue eyes must have been sparkling in delight when all her girlfriends leaned closer to examine my beautiful painted face. “Thank you, Daithy.” I batted my long black lashes and ignored their chorus of giggles at my uncontrollable childish lisp, and turned to look over my shoulder towards the rear of their garden. ‘My couthin Bonnie did my make-up,” I informed her, nodding to where the buxom teenager in the short blue babydoll frock was staggering through the oleander bushes carrying her heavy hot-pink plastic toolbox. “Thally athked her to do her make-up again later, tho Bonnie went and got her make-up boxth.”

“Cool!” Daisy replied, glancing past my billowing silk fairy wings to check out the tall busty girl with the long chestnut pigtails walking through the back yard towards her house. She turned away from me as though I had ceased to exist and addressed her friends. “Mary and Karen? Ella? Why don’t you come inside to my bedroom, and I’ll show you all the stuff I got so far?” Daisy suggested. Her chosen subjects danced after her in a mass of swishing frothy tulle when she scampered towards the house.
“I’ll put this inside, in my bedroom,” Sally quietly mentioned to me, discretely patting the bulging side of my pink gingham baby bag. I smiled sheepishly and silently nodded my thanks, and Angie abandoned me to skip over to the brunette mother holding the toddler’s hand. She stopped to proudly twirl in front of the visibly-impressed two-year-old girl, and then started chatting with her and her parent.

As Daisy and her best friends disappeared inside the house, the other girls turned away from me and headed into the garage. “Daisy said they live in that house behind hers,” Susie muttered to her friends when they were out of my earshot. “Do you know what that means?” One of the Princesses dressed in pink turned back to stare at me, and when she saw me looking in her direction, she smiled innocently and gave me a friendly farewell wave.
“I though Daisy told us that sissy boy Jeremy lived behind her place. You know? The scrawny one who always wets his pants,” one of her friends added for clarification. The girls huddled together for a few minutes discussing the hideous possibility that one of the prettiest little girls at the party could actually be a pants-wetting teenage boy.

A handful of girls walked out of the house and I noticed the fluffy mane of honey-blonde hair before I recognised the welcoming smile underneath. It was Bonnie’s gorgeous girlfriend Tammy, and she looked so tall and slender today. She was holding the hand of the grinning little blonde named Mandy, who was dragging her away from the others in my direction. As soon as you saw them together, you knew at once they were sisters. They had the same wide-spaced soft brown eyes and full pink lips, and their pert little noses were almost identical.

Tammy was wearing a ballet dress too, but it wasn’t a tulle tutu. Her outfit consisted of a shiny pale-green leotard which tightly hugged her proudly upthrust, (obviously padded) bosom and her tiny waist, with a bouncy mid-thigh skirt below made from dangly thin strips of sheer yellow and green chiffon. Even though they fluffed out around her slender hips like a cheerleader’s pom-pom, when she took a long stride you could see her muscular bare thighs all the way up to the shiny lycra crotch piece of her leotard. Her huge silk fairy wings were green too, decorated with yellow whorls and gold glitter, and she wore a tiny gold ‘Miss America’ crown on her fluffed-out honey-blonde mane. She waved to me and then smiled welcomingly at Bonnie, and we all met up near the end of the narrow concrete path running half-way down the back yard.

Tammy looked stunning this afternoon with bold green and yellow eye shadow angled to cat-like points either side of her eyes, giving her face an elongated pixie-like appearance. Her eyes looked huge framed by her fluttering black mascara-lengthened lashes and dark pencilled arched eyebrows, and she was wearing bright scarlet lipstick on her perfect pouting lips. Tammy’s luscious mouth gleamed wetly with gloss, too, and those lips looked so moist and kissable! She looked abnormally tall and when I glanced at her feet, I saw the gorgeous seventeen-year-old was wearing a pair of bright yellow court shoes with two-inch platform soles and chunky six-inch heels. Her red painted toenails peeped out from the peekaboo cut-out toes, and I thought her toe cleavage looked very attractive too. She had no trouble stepping across the lawn in her chunky-heeled platform shoes, and the slender beauty towered over me when she stopped in front of me.

Mandy released her big sister’s hand and stood beside us, stroking her bobbing, purple tulle skirts into stillness and grinning down at me from the height advantage of her three-inch heels. “Hi, Bonnie. Hello Baby Jennie,” Tammy brightly greeted us, and her grinning little sister echoed her greeting. I blushed pinkly, hoping no one apart from her sister Mandy overheard Tammy addressing me by that humiliating honorific. I didn’t notice Mandy’s quick glance at my crotch, but fortunately my stiff tulle underskirts protected my shameful infantile undergarments from casual prying eyes.

“Hi Tammy, hi Mandy,” Bonnie grunted, before she lowered her hot-pink tool box onto the lawn with a grateful sigh. She completed the fourth side of our conversational square. “So your mum decided to make you come too?” she asked Tammy with a sneer of disdain.
“No,” the gorgeous teenager replied uncertainly, looking slightly confused by both the question and Bonnie’s disgruntled attitude. “I wanted to come with Mandy.” Tammy added, “I love dress-up parties! Anyway, it’s only for a couple of hours-”
“Three hours,” Bonnie resentfully interjected, looking gloomy at the prospect.
“-and I knew you’d be here. Are you…?” The gorgeous petite blonde nodded meaningfully in the direction of Bonnie’s groin. Mandy’s eyes drifted down to Bonnie’s brief hemline too, before returning to rest on my face. I felt myself blushing under the grinning eight-year-old’s intense scrutiny.
My cousin sighed heavily and nodded. “You too?” Bonnie asked.

After a quick glance around to check no one was watching, Tammy boldly gathered the colourful chiffon strips covering her groin and raised them over her flat tummy. Mandy was the only one who wasn’t staring at Tammy’s crotch. Obviously, she already knew what kind of underwear her big sister was wearing to the party. Mandy kept grinning in my direction, as if she only had eyes for me. It wasn’t grossly obvious but you could tell Tammy was wearing a puffy disposable diaper and a pair of plastic panties under the snug-fitting panty of her pale-green leotard. When the gorgeous grinning teen released the chiffon strips to cover her infantile underwear, she giggled cheekily and looked expectantly in the direction of Bonnie’s crotch with searching brown eyes. My buxom cousin sighed in resignation and briefly raised the hem of her juvenile blue frock in front, giving Tammy and her bemused kid sister a quick flash of her transparent pink plastic panties and the fluffy pink nappies they struggled to contain. I have to say; Mandy didn’t look at all surprised to see Bonnie was diapered like a big baby.

“Oh!” Tammy breathed in astonishment. “Your mum wouldn’t let you wear a disposable diaper today?” Bonnie sadly shook her head in reply but then Tammy’s expression brightened. “I’ve got my diaper bag inside and I think my mum packed some extra disposables for me, just in case. They might be a little small for you but I’m sure we can manage-”
“No Tammy,” Bonnie mournfully responded. She glanced around again and made sure she remained unobserved before she turned around, bent over slightly, and briefly flicked up the back of her pleated baby-blue frock. Even though it was quick, everyone saw the glittering ends of the shiny brass waist chain dangling from the little padlock in the small of her back.

“Holy mackerel!” Tammy cried in disbelief. “Are your baby pants locked on?”
“Shhh!” Bonnie snarled in a loud whisper. Even Mandy covered her pretty painted mouth in shock.
Tammy glanced at me and Mandy before suggesting to her dispirited friend, “Come inside and you can dump your toolbox, Bonnie, and we can get a drink and have a chat.” My glum-faced cousin nodded and followed the gorgeous blonde towards the house, leaving me in the care of Mandy.

“Do you want a drink, Baby Jennie?” the pretty girl in the purple tutu politely asked me. “They have lots of different soft drinks on the table at the side of the house.”
“Thure! Um, Mandy?” I tried to appear unconcerned when I asked, “Can you pweathe jutht call me Jennie, not Baby Jennie?” I followed the pretty girl in purple around to the side of the house and onto the grey concrete driveway.
“Huh? Oh, sure!” She shot me a secretive smile. “I just thought Baby Jennie was your name, that’s all.”
“Not weally,” I explained, and I could feel my cheeks turning redder. “Thort of more wike a nickname. Do you know if they have cweaming thoda?” The sweet red soda was my favourite!
Mandy giggled at my feminine lisp before she replied, “I think so, Jennie. Let’s go look.”

There was a long wooden trestle table set up in the shade of the house in the driveway, covered with a plastic table cloth with drawings of ballerina Barbies all over it. The table was laden with food and drink, including covered trays of mini-meat pies, tiny sausage rolls, cocktail frankfurts, chocolate crackles and fairy bread. There was a leaking tub full of ice and bottles of soft drink sitting on the concrete drive at one end, too. Fortunately for me, they did have creaming soda, and I nodded enthusiastically when Mandy asked me if I wanted a cup. “Yeth pweathe, Mandy!” It was fantastic drinking out of a normal cup like a big girl, although I found myself wrapping both hands around the fragile plastic vessel and sipping very carefully, so I didn’t spill anything on my pretty ballerina outfit. The cup was tiny compared to my normal baby bottles and I drained it in no time at all.

“You’re Bonnie’s cousin, right?” I nodded sheepishly and Mandy grinned and kindly asked, “Want another cup?” When I nodded enthusiastically again she took my pink plastic cup and refilled it. Without her shoes, she would have been only an inch or two taller than me. But with her three-inch heeled, white patent Maryjanes strapped on her dainty feet, I had to look up see to her pretty smiling face. I drained my cup more slowly this time and while I was swallowing, Mandy asked conversationally, “Are you really a boy?”

I was caught completely off-guard and almost coughed up my bubbly soft drink. I felt a quick wet squirt in the front of my diaper and struggled to contain myself. My watering blue eyes darted around to make sure no one else heard Mandy’s embarrassing question. I batted my long black lashes furiously to clear my vision. We were alone at the side of the house, thank goodness! I slowly nodded, watching her pretty face carefully to gauge her reaction. I was pleased when Mandy’s smile broadened and she nodded in satisfaction. “Tammy told me you like to dress up like a little girl and play babies. Is that true?”

There was a pregnant pause while I slowly drained my cup and considered her question. I thought about the last two weeks - especially the last couple of days - and I found myself nodding once more. “Yeth,” I hesitantly admitted, smiling shyly. “I wove dwething wike a pwetty wittle girl, and I do wike pwaying babieth thometimeth.” Like it? Sometimes I loved it! I was thrilled when Mandy’s inquiring smile became a broad grin and she nodded in apparent understanding.
“That’s good,” she responded, “because you certainly make a beautiful little girl. You’re gorgeous!” Her praise was so forthright and honest, it brought the pink hue back to my cheeks.
“Tho are you,” I replied with disarming honesty.

Mandy’s cheeks turned pink with pleasure and she smiled down at me in obvious delight. “Tammy did my make-up for me but she isn’t as good at it as your cousin Bonnie. I think you look seriously gorgeous!” She pointed to my crotch. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone you’re wearing nappies. Or your cousin Bonnie. Tammy made me promise I wouldn’t. Oh, and by the way? I love playing ‘Mummies and Babies’,” she added with a cheeky grin that made my limp clittie twitch into ready wakefulness. I wondered if she ever played babies with her sister Tammy? My filthy little mind reeled at the erotic images which instantly sprang to mind.

“Do you weally?” I inquired before I could stop myself. When she nodded enthusiastically my tentative smile grew wider. I grabbed a cocktail frankfurter, dipped it a bowl of tomato sauce and munched down on it to give me time to think. “Mandy?” I hesitantly asked, “Can you pweathe not tell anyone at the party I’m weally a boy?”
“Why not?” the eight-year-old demanded in apparent confusion. I guess she was too young to understand. I dunked another mini-frank in the bowl of sauce, careful not to spill any on my beautiful tulle skirts.
“Thome of the other girlth might - you know, they might pick on me,” I clumsily explained, then delicately shoved the dripping cocktail frankfurter between my parted pink lips. Fortunately, she seemed to accept my hastily thrown-together explanation.

Mandy smiled and nodded. “Oh, okay. I knew who you were as soon as Daisy told us you lived in the house behind theirs. And when I heard your name, I thought you might be Bonnie’s cousin - but you looked so gorgeous, I really didn’t believe you could be a boy.” My pink cheeks warmed with pleasure until they were almost burning, and for some weird reason my sensitive clittie swelled even more inside my slippery moist diaper. I didn’t think to ask how she had been able to identify me from where I lived. I was too preoccupied having my ego stroked. “I had to go get Tammy and ask her to be sure,” Mandy admitted with a congratulatory grin for me.

When I reached for a third cocktail frankfurter, Mandy laughed. “Golly! You really like little boys, don’t you?” she teased me, pointing at the bowl of little frankfurters. For a moment I thought she was talking about my fascination with David, and I blushed furiously. Then I realised she was teasing me about the cocktail franks, and I gave her a wry smile for the old joke. The pretty eight-year-old grabbed a piece of Fairy bread covered in hundreds and thousands, folded it in half and stuffed most of it in her mouth. “Come on, let’s go see what the other girls are doing,” she suggested from around a mouthful of buttered bread and multi-coloured sugar.

I grabbed a piece of Fairy bread too, and trotted after her towards the rear of the Green’s garage, still munching. When we skipped inside the back door, there were a half-dozen girls dancing about on the raised wooden platform in front of the long wall of mirrors. Mandy twirled over to join a couple of her friends standing near the old mahogany wardrobe, and I slowly fell behind as I finished my sugary treat and licked my fingers clean. I went to wipe my fingers on my bibbie as usual, and barely caught myself before I ran my hands over the bodice of my shiny pink leotard. I daintily brushed my fingers together instead. My thickening clittie grew even stiffer when I skipped onto the dance floor - the scene of many past private masturbatory activities. I watched my feminine reflection in the mirror and I really did look like a beautiful little ballerina. My heart soared with joy when I pirouetted perfectly on my points, my silk wings fluttering realistically. My frothy pink and white tulle skirts swished noisily around my hips as more pre-cum leaked out of my excitable thickening clittie.

There were two girls holding onto the balance beam at the far end practising their plies, and I skipped over next to them. I grabbed the bar and joined them in the warm-up exercises. Even though I hadn’t practised for about a year, the familiar oft-rehearsed movements quickly came back to me. One of the girls was dressed in a lemon-yellow leotard with dark-yellow tulle skirts, and she turned around to compliment me. “You’re pretty good. Do you take classes, too? I haven’t seen you at our ballet school.” I shook my head and daintily completed the series of movements.
“No, I jutht uthed to pwactithe with Daithy and Thally thometimeth,” I replied with a friendly smile.

The older girl in the pastel-pink tutu turned to me with wide eyes. She looked at least nine or ten years old, and even though her pink-patent Maryjanes only had a two-inch heel, she was easily the tallest girl on the dance floor. Her black hair was tied up in a bun so tight, it stretched her dark arched eyebrows painfully far up and out to her temples. I wondered if it might give her a migraine? Her bun was covered with a ballerina’s pink net snood, which told me she must be one of Daisy’s fellow students from the dance academy. “You’re Jennie, right? You’re the b- the girl who lives behind Daisy’s place. Right?”

I nodded, unaware that I was anxiously gnawing my plump pink bottom lip and eating off my lipstick. Fortunately, the permanent pink stain kept them looking pretty. I nervously plucked at the edges of my bobbing tulle skirts either side to prevent my thumb accidentally creeping into my mouth. I so wanted my dum-dums at that moment! The girl asked, “You used to practice here in the garage with Sally and Daisy last year?” I silently nodded again, unsure where this line of questioning was taking me. I was relieved when the tall, raven-haired girl merely smiled broadly and nodded in sudden understanding. “I’m Gemma and this is Susie,” she said, introducing her smaller blonde friend in the yellow tutu.

“Hi Gemma, hi Thuthie,” I politely responded, and I threw in a little curtsey that made them giggle. “I’m Jennie.”
“Gosh you look pretty, Jennie,” Susie commented with a touch of envy in her voice. “I love your make-up. It’s gorgeous! You’re so lucky! My mum never lets me wear any. You must be the prettiest Fairy Princess at the party!”

“Don’t be thilly,” I weakly protested, although her kind compliments thrilled me to bits! Despite my vanity, I thought Mandy looked every bit as pretty as me. She was beautiful! I shyly glanced down at the polished wooden floor and scuffed the toe of my ballet slipper, blushing with embarrassment, so I missed the exchange of face-pulling between Susie and Gemma. My stiff clittie throbbed thrillingly inside my comfy moist diaper and the tight crotch of my leotard panties kept the hot head pressed erotically against my slick baby-smooth tummy. For some reason, every time I dipped and twisted my hips, the slippery front of my dampening diaper would sensuously caress the sensitive spot on the underside of my pulsating little tool, driving me wild with excitement.

“She certainly is a beautiful little fairy,” Gemma agreed. I missed the hint of irony in her tone. “I love your pink and white tutu, Jennie, and your beautiful matching wings,” the older girl gushed. “That white fur trim on your wings and over your bust and shoulder straps is gorgeous! Where did you get them?”
“Mummy bought them for me yethterday at Bloch’th, in the mall,” I proudly informed them, beaming with pleasure as I rose on my points and daintily pirouetted for them.

“Oh! Look at those fabulous ruffles across your bottom!” Gemma cried in admiration. “Are they pink and white too? They look so sweet!” I paused with my back to them and glanced over my shoulder, smiling vainly and nodding in assent. “Bend over all the way and show us,” the tall raven-haired girl firmly commanded. I instinctively obeyed, delicately drooping over like a wilting flower to let my baby-pink fingernails brush the dusky-pink toes of my gleaming ballet slippers. Mandy and her grinning friends turned to glance appraisingly at me before the pretty little blonde skipped out of the garage. It was just as well I didn’t see the sly condescending smirks on her friend’s little faces.

“Look at her frilly bottom Susie,” Gemma insisted, as she stepped closer to stroke the soft lace ruffles covering my rounded little rear. “Aren’t they adorable?”
“They sure are!” Her giggling blonde friend agreed, as my glittery silk wings limply fluttered across my bent back.
Gemma patted my out-thrust padded bottom more firmly as she commented, “They feel lovely and soft, too. Have a feel, Susie.”

I obediently remained bent over touching my toes, poking out my plastic-wrapped padded botty like a brazen hussy while the grinning blonde in the yellow tutu stroked and patted my sweetly ruffled seat. I don’t know why I obeyed her. It felt natural to submit to the dominant female in the room, and I didn’t question my actions. My stiff clittie swelled even more under her firm caresses, the slippery hot head pressing moistly against my tummy. Gemma bunched my frothy tutu skirts up over my back and held my shoulder with her other hand to support me. I didn’t realise the girls could feel my puffy disposable diaper and plastic panties crackling beneath the sweet lace ruffles. When Susie finished caressing my bottom, she cheekily slid her fingertips under the leg bands of my leotard panties either side of my crotch, and lifted the stretchy ruffle-covered lycra seat up and inwards.

“Let me just straighten your pretty panties, Jennie,” Susie suggested in a kind caring voice. She cruelly rearranged them so the leg bands of my pink plastic panties obviously poked out the sides. You could even see a hint of my puffy disposable diaper through the transparent pink plastic, but I was blissfully unaware of the fact. “Open your legs a bit wider, honey,” Susie crooned invitingly. Behind me Gemma smiled wolfishly when I unthinkingly obeyed the smoothly uttered commands. “I just want to straighten the front, too,” Susie glibly explained.

I thought it would have been more sensible to let me stand upright to adjust the front of my panties. But I stupidly submitted and remained in position, bending right over touching the dusky-pink toes of my ballet slippers with my bum facing the mirror, showing of my pretty ruffled panty bottom to the other girls like a vain little tramp. I was shocked when Susie’s tiny hand boldly slid between my spread thighs and pressed upwards, cupping my padded pants against my throbbing little tool. “Ooo, and her panties feel so lovely and silky-smooth at the front, too!” Susie gushed. “Have a feel, Gemma.” Susie stepped out of the way and Gemma immediately pushed her hand between my thighs, palm upwards.

“Open your legs wider, Jennie,” she briskly commanded. I didn’t even think of disobeying. I gasped in muted pleasure when Gemma’s larger cupped palm pressed upwards. Her searching fingers firmly stroked the slippery lycra crotch of my pink leotard, right over my pounding stiff clittie. “Oh yes!” Gemma enthusiastically agreed, with a conspiratorial grin and a wink for her wicked little friend. “Come over here girls, and feel the front of Jennie’s panties,” she forcefully suggested to the girls near the wardrobe. Another group of giggling Fairy Princesses danced into the garage and Susie signalled them to come over too. “Stay bent over like that, Jennie,” Gemma warned me. She placed one hand behind the back of my neck and gripped me tightly to resolutely hold me in place. “Alice? Margie? Come over here and have a feel, girls.”

The next thing I knew, several giggling girls were lined up behind me, possessively patting my ruffled panty bottom and sticking their hands between my trembling bare thighs. Even though their voices were brimming with compliments, I thought I detected an undercurrent of sarcasm. Many of them rudely stroked the slick lycra crotch piece of my pretty pink leotard, pressing my stiff clittie up against my tummy. Within three minutes, every girl in the garage had confirmed for herself that not only was I diapered like a hopeless little baby and wearing baby panties, but I was a naughty boy obviously thrilled to be dressed like a beautiful little ballerina!

When Gemma finally released my neck, I jerked upright, gazing about fearfully at the dozen smirking Fairy Princesses gathered around me. Their cold eyes and their condescending expressions seemed cruel to me, and I couldn’t read their strange bemused smiles. Instead I backed away from them, cringing in shame, defensively clutching my frothy tulle skirts against my tenting padded crotch. I turned and scampered out of the garage, as fast as my little legs would carry me.

To be continued in chapter 37.
Any comments?
Baby Jennie

Synopsis; Baby Jennie has an embarrassing accident at the Fairy Princess party and she runs home, followed by Bonnie. They see Aunty Cath taking a strange girl into Mummy Isabell's place

Chapter 37. Final Humiliation.

Ellen Green and the teenagers were shepherding all the girls into the back yard for some organised party games, and I was swept up in the tulle tide of tittering femininity. A smiling blonde mother followed the milling girls and I noticed she held Aunty Cath’s camcorder in one hand. She slowly panned the lens around the party, trying to make sure every little girl was included in the scene. There must have been around twenty Fairy Princesses bouncing around Bonnie, Tammy and Sally, most between seven and nine years old. I felt grateful when the smiling teenagers commanded everyone to sit on the grass, so the humiliating height difference between me and the rest of the little girls wasn’t so obvious. We had to play a girly version of ‘Pin the Tail on the Donkey’ - except the donkey was a life-size picture of a ballerina Barbie on a rough white cloth poster, nailed to the side of the garage. The tails were these pretend corsages we had to attach to Barbie’s wrist by the Velcro strips - after being blindfolded and spun around a few times, while all the other little girls sat on the grass and watched.

Angie abruptly jumped to her feet and proudly announced that she needed to use the potty. As Bonnie led her away to do her business in the Green’s bathroom, one of the bigger Fairy Princesses sitting on the grass behind me snidely commented, “She still uses a potty? What a baby!” Several girls sniggered at her unkind observation and I felt my face flush with warmth. I didn’t dare turn around to see who made the nasty remark. What if they knew I was wearing a diaper? It was just as well I didn’t know several of the girls sitting behind me were pointing at my back, and many others were whispering about me to their girlfriends. The rest of us watched the next girl being blindfolded and spun around, before taking her turn. I didn’t notice the blonde mother with Aunty Cath’s camcorder was filming the entire event.

Bonnie returned a few minutes later without my sister although a handful of chattering mothers accompanied her - some of them carrying flutes of sparkling champagne and others with serving plates of hot finger-food they offered to the seated fairies. My Mummy wasn’t amongst them, even though my eyes anxiously searched the spacious tree-lined back yard for her. Most of the mothers stuck to the concrete path that led to the clothes line, fearful their high heels would sink into the grass. I thought I recognised one of the chubbier women with the bird’s nest of dark-brown hair, but I couldn’t be sure. Although the way she desperately sucked the life out of her cigarette seemed awfully familiar.

One attractive forty-something mother carefully stepped amongst the seated fairies with a plate of hot mini-sausage rolls and a bowl of tomato sauce. I took a savoury sausage roll when she offered the plate to me, and dipped it into the sauce. I leaned forward and cupped my hand under the treat, anxious lest I spill some sauce on my pretty tulle skirts. When I tentatively nibbled one end - it was pretty hot - the grinning brunette mother leaned down closer to my face. “Maybe I should get you a bib, baby?” She whispered teasingly. I started in fear, my cheeks turning pink with shame. I don’t know what worried me more - whether the girls sitting around me might have heard her embarrassing suggestion, or that my Mummy must have divulged details of my humiliating baby treatment to her friends.

When my turn came, I found the game was harder than it looked. Although I placed my corsage at the right level, I missed Barbie’s wrist by about a foot. I didn’t know that when I was blindfolded and Tammy and Sally were twirling me around, most of the other little girls were talking about me. Several pointed to my exposed crotch below my swirling tulle skirts, causing a loud burst of hilarity. My baby panties and nappies were poking out the sides of my ruffled leotard panties front and back, and by the time the teens removed my blindfold, every girl seated on the lawn knew of my diapered shame. Even the blonde mother who was filming us had to smirk at the infantile sight I presented. None of the grinning Princesses let on when I took my place among them on the lawn once more, and several congratulated me for my placement of the corsage. The winner of that game won a set of Barbie outfits and accessories, and she squealed with glee as she held up her glittering plastic-wrapped prize.

The next game Sally organised was ‘Pass the Parcel,’ but I didn’t realise the huge gaily-wrapped package contained tricks as well as treats. Ellen Green, Sally and some of her girlfriends had spent ages wrapping various objects inside multiple layers of colourful wrapping paper for us to find. Sally played a loud ‘Kylie’ dance CD on her portable deck from the garage while we passed the parcel around until the music abruptly stopped. Then the person holding the parcel was allowed to unwrap one layer. Not every layer revealed a prize. Sometimes two or three pieces of wrapping paper had to be ripped away before a prize fell out.

Most of the prizes were sweet feminine trinkets, like jewelled hair combs, fluffy sparkly hair scrunchies and glass-bead jewellery. I didn’t realise Sally and her devilish friends included some nasty surprises, too - until the raucous music stopped and the girl sitting next to me had her turn. When the excited grinning brunette peeled away a thick sheet of blue wrapping paper, a huge hairy spider dropped onto her lap. She screamed in shock and jumped back against me, and the startling noise and unexpected jostling caused a little wee-wees to uncontrollably leak out of my limp clittie. Everone around us burst into nervous laughter when they realised the horrid spider was made of rubber, and the frightened brunette in the ice-pink tutu blushed in shame for her terrified over-reaction. She threw the huge floppy spider at the girl who was laughing loudest, which caused a fresh bout of feminine squealing and shrill peals of frightened laughter.

After a few more rounds of cute feminine knick-knacks, Mandy opened a layer to reveal a slimy rubber snake. That caused a momentary furore! I think Sally knew exactly where the trick presents were arranged in the parcel because a few minutes later, she stopped the music when I was holding the package. I ripped open the pink layer of wrapping paper with a combination of delight and dread. My prize fell onto my lap, caught by my frothy pink tutu skirts, and the girls around me squealed in glee. It was a baby’s dummy! To be exact, it was an extra-large cherry-nipple toddler’s pacifier, with an amber rubber teat and a clear pink plastic guard - like my friend Danielle’s. I didn’t know whether to try and conceal my embarrassing prize or hold it aloft to show the crowd. When they called for me to show them, I held it above my head for a few seconds and then cheekily thrust the rubber teat in my mouth. “Num-num-num-num-mmm-mmm-mmm!” I loudly mumbled, as I vigorously sucked the strangely-shaped toddler pacifier like an enthusiastic baby.

“Look!” One girl cried in amusement. “She got a baby’s dummy!” Another yelled, “Jennie must be a baby!” Everybody squealed with laughter and I nervously giggled around the small amber teat, hoping they were laughing with me, not at me. I couldn’t have been more wrong. “Baby, baby, baby,” a group of them chanted before they all collapsed in helpless giggles once more. Fortunately a grinning Sally started the music again and I gratefully passed the shrinking parcel, hoping everybody would soon stop looking at me. I plucked the inadequate dummy from my lips a few moments later and clutched it in my fist, concealing the embarrassing toddler pacifier in my lap.

“You look really cute with that dummy in your mouth,” observed the pretty red-haired seven-year-old in the baby-pink tutu sitting on my other side. Her freckle-faced smile seemed friendly and encouraging when she added, “You should keep sucking it.” I wanted to suck a dummy - I needed to suck my dum-dums - but I was unwilling to look more like a stupid baby in front of everyone. When I grimaced, shrugged my shoulders and appeared reluctant, the Princess in pink firmly ordered, “Go on! Pop it back in your mouth and show me.” Like a mindless robot I obeyed her, and her teasing smile became a broad grin. “That’s better,” she cooed in approval. “You look adorable! Just like a beautiful baby girl!” Even though I wasn’t sure if she was teasing me or not, I gratefully sucked on the firm cherry teat, wishing it was my familiar comforting big baby soother.

The little redhead leaned over to confide in me. “My brother still sucks a dummy at bedtime, and he’s five.” I thought she was telling me this to make me feel better until she disdainfully added, “He likes to wet and poop his pants, too. He’s such a baby!” I felt my cheeks turning pink with shame and I hoped my uncontrollable blushes wouldn’t give me away when she sniggered, “My mum’s made him start wearing diapers again - pink ones too, to punish him for being such a sissy baby. She’s even started dressing him like a - oh look! There he is!” She pointed towards the concrete path leading from the back door, and I saw a skinny freckle-faced boy waddling slowly toward the smoking brunette woman. It was Stephen!

I recognised the poopy-pants boy from the local park by his short red hair, too, which made the outfit he was wearing look even more incongruous. Steven was wearing a too-short, faded denim, sleeveless sunfrock, (which was probably an old hand-me-down dress belonging to his sister sitting beside me,) with wide shoulder straps and a low yoke neck. You could see the puffy pink crotch of his sagging disposable diaper peeping out from underneath the short flared hem, and you could tell his mother didn’t believe in the extra security of plastic pilchers, either. From the way he awkwardly waddled along with his bottom stuck out, I suspected Steven’s diaper was probably poopy as well as wet. When he reached his mother’s side he snatched her free hand and tugged it imploringly. Although he was too far away for me to hear the words, I knew what he was pleading for. All the other mothers standing around them turned to stare down in contempt at the whining sissy boy in the stinky dirty diaper. When several of the sneering women pointedly moved upwind, my heart went out to him.

The chain-smoking woman with the bird’s nest of dark-brown hair snapped some inaudible reply at Steven and resentfully extinguished her cigarette, and she pointed towards the house in irritation. As soon as the humiliated five-year-old turned around, she smacked his protruding padded posterior so hard she almost swept him off his feet. I wondered if Steven was at least mildly grateful for the warm sticky wad that partially protected his poor bot-bot. When his humiliated eyes swept over the gaggle of seated Princesses on the lawn to see who had witnessed his shameful treatment, I ducked down out of sight behind his cheeky sister when she cheerily waved to him, chewing anxiously on the strange cherry teat of my new dum-dums. Even though I felt a twinge of guilt for avoiding his gaze, I didn’t want him squealing out my real name if he spotted me, either. My real name? I noticed he toddled much faster back towards the house than from it, with his cranky mother following close at his heels. I breathed an audible sigh of relief when they disappeared from view, which made the redheaded girl sitting next to me look askance at me again.

When my Mummy walked down the concrete path into the backyard, she was clutching Angie’s hand and wobbling a trifle unsteadily. Her squinting olive-green eyes searched the seated girls’ faces for mine, and I eagerly jumped to my feet and trotted over to her. Anything to get away from Steven’s hard-hearted big sister! “Oh there you are, baby!” Mummy effusively cried as I approached. When she crouched down to talk to me, she almost fell over backwards. “Oopsh!” she squealed, and she giggled at her own clumsiness. “Hey! That’sh not your dummy,” she slurred, and she roughly plucked the cherry-teat pacifier from my puffy pink lips. “You can’t shteal other babiesh dummiesh, you dummy!” She giggled at her own joke.

“I didn’t thteal it!” I shrilly protested, wondering how many glasses of champagne my mother had consumed. It didn’t take many to get her tipsy! “It wath a joke pwize from the watht game,” I explained, frowning resentfully at her.
“Oh,” Mummy replied, looking slightly mollified. She inspected the toddler’s pacifier with a snort of derision. “It’sh too shmall for my big baby, anywhos.” she drunkenly observed, and she opened her pink clutch purse and rummaged inside. “Lucky for you I have your shpare dum-dumsh right here, baby girl,” Mummy mumbled, and she produced one of my oversized pink pacifiers and popped that in my mouth instead.

I gratefully drew on the firm mouth-filling amber teat while Mummy ineptly attached the dangling clip to the fluffy fur-edged bustline of my leotard. Even though it was potentially embarrassing, it felt wonderfully satisfying having the familiar soothing rubber nipple in my mouth again. I hoped no one would notice Mummy had swapped dummies, and the other girls would think that I was only sucking it to keep up the joke. It took her a few attempts to successfully fasten the pink plastic chain to my outfit and when she managed it, she gave my blushing pink cheek a few heavy-handed pats. “Okay girlsh, Mummy hash to go home now and change outfitsh,” she advised us. “She needsh to find out what her shishter shinksh - her sister thinks,” she carefully corrected herself “- ish sho damn important.”

She clutched Angie and me by one shoulder each, and I think it was more to steady herself than an act of intimacy. “Behave yourshelvesh, okay girlsh? I’ll be back to pick you up when the party ish over.” She looked over at Bonnie and nodded her head in indication. “Your coushin will shtay here to eye a keep on you, okay? Okay?” she loudly repeated, when we were a little slow responding.
“Yes Mummy,” Angelica obediently replied.
“Yeth Mummy,” I hesitantly lisped, and she turned to face me.

“And make sure you ashk Bonnie to take you to the potty, Baby Jennie,” she warned me. Her glittering olive-green eyes seemed to have trouble focusing on my face. Mummy released Angie’s shoulder to slide one finger inside my panty crotch, making both of us stumble. I anxiously glanced behind me past my shimmering silk wings, glad I had my back to the rest of the party. Fortunately almost everybody else was still busy playing ‘pass the parcel’ and I don’t think anybody noticed Mummy checking my diaper. She grunted noncommittally when she felt I was mostly dry, then wagged her finger under my nose and almost fell over backwards again. “Don’t you dare wet that diaper - or elsh!”

I thought about asking Mummy to put me on the potty, but I realised she probably didn’t have the time - or the inclination - right now. I chewed on the soothing rubber teat of my dum-dums instead, wondering whether Bonnie would be discrete about it if I asked her to take me to the toilet. Mummy stood upright and waved farewell to us with a hiccup and a sheepish giggle, and then she turned and stumbled towards the oleander bushes bordering our back yard. After a few staggering steps her high heels sank all the way to the leather lasts. She clumsily stepped out of her pink court shoes, plucked the muddy heels out of the lawn, and she looked much more stable when she shuffled barefoot out of our sight.

“Come on girls!” Ellen Green approached from our rear, holding her arms wide to shepherd us towards the other Princesses. “We’re going to play ‘Musical Chairs’ now.” I spat out my dum-dums and tucked it inside the satiny pink bodice of my leotard, hoping no one would question the strange lump or the decorative plastic clip attached to my fur-trimmed bustline. Bonnie, Tammy and Sally had finished arranging some small white plastic chairs in the middle of the yard. They looked like the kiddie chairs from our church Nursery, and they were set out in two long rows, back to back. After counting heads they decided there was one too many seats, and Bonnie took one back into the house. I idly wondered where they found so many toddler chairs, and found myself standing next to Tammy. I tugged on the dangling chiffon strips of her yellow and green skirt to attract her attention.

The gorgeous blonde teen looked down at me with an affectionate smile and cooed, “What’s up, baby girl?” I knew my cheeks were flushed pink with embarrassment already and they turned a darker shade at her casual question. I hoped no one thought anything of her off-hand endearment.
“Tammy? Tammy, could you-” I stumbled over the words, feeling the heat rising in my cheeks. “Could you pweathe take me to the bathwoom?” I finished in a quiet rush. “Pweathe?” The beautiful girl gazed down at me, her full pink lips drawing back in a wide smile.
“The bathroom?” she repeated in confusion, her soft brown eyes wide in astonishment. “Why do you want me to take you to the bathroom, little girl?”
I nervously glanced around and lowered my voice even more, trying not to be overheard by the half-dozen Princesses milling around us. “I need to uthe the potty,” I urgently entreated, my cheeks blazing with mortification.

Tammy’s confused smile became a broad grin when she heard my childish whispered request. “But why, baby?” she quietly inquired, her tone perfectly reasonable. “Why do you want me to take you to the potty? You’re wearing nappies. Why don’t you just use them?” Her smile became intimate before she crouched down and whispered in my ear, “I already did, and so did Bonnie!” She leaned back so she could watch my face when she muttered confidentially, “I did a big hot wee-wee in my diaper a few minutes ago, and it feels all wonderfully warm and wet down there now!” She pressed her slim thighs together and shivered in delight at the warm squishy feeling around her sensitive moist kitten.

I tried to explain my current predicament but she overrode my whining objections and bent down closer to me again. She raised the front of my stiff tulle skirts in front and discretely cupped her hand against the shiny lycra crotch of my pink leotard panties. “Go on, Baby Jennie,” she urged me in a low throaty whisper. “Wet your nappy for me. Go on, let it all go. Fill up that diaper with hot pee-pee for me.” My fingers unconsciously scrabbled for my dummy, and I used the pink plastic chain to drag it free from the bodice of my leotard. I shoved the amber rubber teat in my mouth and sucked it for all I was worth. I couldn’t help it! My shrunken bladder ached with the need to let go, and Tammy wasn’t just giving me permission… She was ordering me to wet my diaper! I gasped in arousal and shuddered with relief as my straining sphincter instantly relaxed. The scalding-hot stream gushed out of me, spraying against the front of my papery disposable and splashing back around my genitals. I revelled in the comforting hot flow, shuddering in infantile pleasure when the clinging warmth gradually seeped around to my bottom.

“Good girl,” Tammy tenderly murmured, when she felt the spreading warmth filling the crotch of my diaper. She gave my leaking clittie a few affectionate rubs that made it reflexively stiffen, even as my hot urine continued to freely flow. She smiled conspiratorially and whispered, “Ahhh, that’s better! Isn’t it, baby girl?” I closed my eyes and moaned quietly in appreciation around the teat of my mouth-filling dum-dums, and she gave my stiffening tool a few approving pats before standing upright. “Now go and play the game, little one,” she urged me, grabbing my shoulders and steering me over to where all the other fairy Princess were gathered around the tiny white plastic chairs. My eyes flew open and I plucked my dummy from my lips when I saw some girls staring at my face and sniggering. I blushed with embarrassment as I belatedly tried to conceal my dripping dum-dums down the furry front of my leotard once more.

Sally was in charge of the music again and when the classical ballet tune started, we all had to dance around the chairs, whirling and twirling in a giggling pastel-coloured mass of frothy femininity. As soon as the music stopped everyone raced for the low plastic seats in the middle, trying to sit before anyone else. There was a lot of squealing and shrieking and much laughter too, when one girl failed to find a seat. My smirking cousin led the loser from the field, we all stood up, and after one more chair was removed, the music began again. It was fun jumping onto the low plastic chairs bum-first, especially as my warm soggy diaper and ruffled leotard panties perfectly protected my bottom. But the competition became fierce and I was glad Bonnie didn’t let Angelica play, despite my sister’s strident objections.

By the time we whittled our way down to ten chairs, the remaining Princesses were getting a little rough. Elbows and knees went flying and no quarter was given. There were shrill complaints when some girls’ fairy wings were damaged in the melee, but the thin wire frames were swiftly resurrected by a group of skilful (sober) mothers standing by. I though I was doing fairly well - until there were seven chairs left. The music abruptly halted and I dashed for the nearest low plastic chair. I was about to claim it when a vicious elbow to the side jostled me out of the way. “Oof!” I cried, as the air was painfully driven from my lungs.
“Out of my way, you stupid big baby!” Tall Gemma grinned down victoriously at me as I collapsed to the ground on my back, clutching my side and moaning in pain. I rolled over and clambered onto my hands and knees and struggled to stand up. That’s when it happened.

Totally beyond my control, a large mass of semi-soft poo-poo squirted out of my hopeless anal sphincter, accompanied by a (thankfully) muffled fart. The emerging firmer turd pushed out the seat of my damp diaper before meeting the resistance of my snug leotard panties. The hot squishy mess instantly spread all over my bum cheeks, some sliding down between my bowed legs. I gasped in horror and sank back onto all fours on the grass as the hot sticky poo-poos thrillingly enveloped my clittie - which automatically reacted to the clinging comforting warmth. Fortunately Bonnie stepped over to help me to my feet, and I staggered clumsily when she clutched my hand to lead me away. She led me past the row of seated giggling girls and I thought I was safe until the snickering girl sitting in the middle curled up her top lip and wrinkled her pug nose in disgust.

“Pooh! Who farted?” The offended girl grimaced, waving a hand in front of her face.
Susie sitting next to her loudly demanded, “Farted?” She snorted in contempt as she gazed up accusingly at my blushing red face. “It smells more like someone pooped their panties to me!” My head was already bowed in shame and I knew I was waddling like a poopy-pants toddler as Bonnie slowly led me away.
“I think we all know who that was,” Gemma shouted in derision, and everybody around her burst out laughing.
“It’s alright Baby Jennie,” Bonnie whispered consolingly, squeezing my trembling hand reassuringly. “Come inside and I’ll change your dirty nappy straight away.” My eyes brimmed with unshed tears and my cheeks were burning with shame.
“I think some little sissy boy just filled his diaper!” Gemma jeered, and the mob of sniggering fairies laughed even louder.

Even Angie was staring at me from the sidelines with a disgusted expression marring her pretty painted features. My sister callously turned her back on me as if she didn’t know me - or didn’t want to know me. I couldn’t help it! I burst into tears as Bonnie led me through the parting throng of wide-eyed mothers and fairies, sucking hard on the soothing amber teat that somehow found its way into my mouth. Every head turned to follow my shameful slow toddling progress all the way up the back path. I felt like poor Stephen waddling along with my dirty wet bottom stuck out, fruitlessly trying to avoid smearing my sticky poo-poos all over the place. I heard a ripple of grown-up feminine sniggering starting behind me and by the time I waddled inside the house, the whole back yard was filled with laughing women and children. Bonnie led me snivelling and crying down the hallway and into Sally’s bedroom, where my diaper bag was sitting beside the single bed. I was thankful when my cousin thoughtfully closed the door behind us, although I wished it had a lock.

Bonnie crooned lovingly down at me as she spread my change mat on the bed, and she took out the supplies needed to take care of a messy big baby like me. “Shh, baby. Shh! It’s alright, darling,” she kindly soothed me. “You couldn’t help messing your diaper. It’s okay, baby girl. It’s not your fault!” She had to take off my fairy wings and my tutu first, and when she tugged the tight leotard down my trembling legs and made me step clear of the frothy tulle skirts, I felt strangely naked and ashamed in just my saggy poopy diaper and pink baby panties. “Come on baby, up we hop,” Bonnie urged me as she lifted me onto the crackling plastic-backed change mat and lay me back. She took off my ballet slippers and sheer white socks too, just to be safe, and then she peeled down my snug pink plastic panties. “Shh. Shhh! Suck your dum-dums, sweetheart. Go on, let me hear you sucking… That’s better! Good girl! That always makes my pretty baby girl feel better.”

She held up my baby panties to examine the elastic leg bands and muttered in approval, “Nope. No poo-poo stains. Good girl.” She happily tossed them in my diaper bag, but I found Bonnie’s praise completely underwhelming at this point. She peeled apart the tapes and carefully lowered the front of my sticky smelly diaper, and she couldn’t help grimacing in distaste. “Oh baby! You really made a nasty mess in your diaper today!” Despite her obvious reluctance, the beautiful frowning teen scraped up most of the mess stuck to my bottom with the warm wet front of my diaper, and she held my ankles high in the air with her large left hand as she slid the dirty disposable from underneath me. “Stay like that,” she ordered with a grunt, as though it was me controlling my little legs - not her. Bonnie used a handful of cool moist baby wipes to scour between my flaccid bum cheeks, carefully wiping my sensitive rosebud again and again until she was sure I was clean back there. Despite feeling crushed with embarrassment, my little clittie automatically started to thicken.

She let my feet drop and rolled up the stinky disposable with the soiled wipes inside, and I was grateful when she sealed it in a scented orange nappy sack. “Wait there, darling,” Bonnie cooed to me. “I’ll just go and get rid of this,” she said, hefting the smelly package, “and wash my hands. Back soon!” She disappeared out the door, fortunately closing it behind her. I lay there on the change mat naked and shivering, although it had nothing to do with the air temperature. I started in fear when the door flew open a few minutes later and I accidentally squirted a little pee-pee on my change mat. I sighed with relief when my grinning cousin stepped into the room. “Okay, baby, let’s get you all fixed up.”

I frowned in disappointment when Bonnie took out two thick pink cloth nappies from my change bag and started arranging them on the damp patch between my legs. “Pweathe Bonnie? Can’t I wear another dithpothable? Pweathe?” I plaintively begged. She opened my vinyl baby bag and rummaged through the contents. My bottom lip trembled in dismay when she sadly shook her head, and I anxiously chewed on my dummy teat for consolation.
“No baby.” Bonnie looked at my concerned face, and her expression was surprisingly sympathetic. “Your Mummy only packed your pink cloth nappies for me to change you into. No disposables.”
“What about uthing one of Tammy’th? She’th got thome thpare diaperth thomewhere,” I hopefully suggested, a tinge of desperation creeping into my voice.

I felt crushed with disappointment when Bonnie sadly shook her head in denial. She lifted my legs and slid the prepared cloth nappies underneath me, then lowered my bottom onto the familiar comforting pile. “I already checked, baby. Tammy only has one spare diaper in her baby bag - and that wet little girl is going to need it herself in a little while,” Bonnie confidently predicted with a shark-like smile. I wondered if she anticipated changing her gorgeous girlfriend’s wet diaper, too, and whether I would be allowed to watch. The mere thought made my thickening clittie grow instantly stiffer. She opened the white plastic bottle of baby powder and poured a generous handful over my baby-smooth genitals and tummy, then rubbed it in with gentle caressing strokes. She smiled down forgivingly at my blushing pink cheeks when my sensitive little tool grew even harder, and she gave my stiff clittie a few reassuring rubs that left it hard and throbbing. She smoothed the sweetly perfumed talc over my trembling botty and between my cheeks too, making sure every nook and cranny was safely covered with perfumed powder. By the time she let my legs drop my rock-hard erection was bobbing above my powdery belly, straining for her attention.

With effort I shook the erotic images of Bonnie and Tammy playing babies from my mind. “Can’t we thneak home and get a dithpothable from my Nurthery?” I pleaded around my dum-dums. “Pweathe Bonnie? Pweathe?” Tears rimmed my eyes when she mournfully shook her head once more.
“No way! Our mums made it very clear that we were to stay here at the party until they came to collect us. Sorry, baby girl,” Bonnie apologised with a sad smile for me. She drew the fluffy dry cloth pieces over my tummy and firmly held the front flap over my throbbing stiff clittie. She tightly pinned them with two big pink pins either side, trapping my rock-hard tool against my tummy, and then reached into my baby bag for a fresh pair of plastic panties. She shook out a crackling pair of frosty musk-pink pilchers and cooed, “Footsies in the air and ballerina toesies.”

Despite my whining objections, my response was automatic, and then I dropped my bare feet and raised my bum high so she could tug the waistband of my snug baby panties all the way up over my huge cloth nappies. My padded bum dropped onto the damp change mat with a noisy crackle of plastic. As soon as Bonnie tucked the leg bands safely under the crotch of my fluffy pink nappy, she gave my tenting erection a few firm squeezes through my swaddling that made me shudder with arousal. She grinned at my lustful expression before she released my stiffie, and the buxom teen then slid my sheer white socks back on my feet and tied my dusky-pink ballet slippers in place. She crooned, “Footsies in the air and ballerina toesies again, Baby Jennie!” She threaded my pointed toesies into the leg holes of my tutu and tugged it up my legs past my knees.

Bonnie grabbed my hands and pulled me to my feet, and then tried to drag the snug leotard bodice over the huge bulk of my nappy. Even with the slippery plastic panties making things easier, it was still a monumental task. I grabbed her bare shoulders for support when her tugging efforts almost pulled me off my feet. She tried several times to settle my swishing skirts down around my wide padded hips, but the strain was too much. The tight elastic waistband kept creeping up to my much narrower waist, till my leotard crotch struggled to contain the enormous diaper package below. I checked my appearance in Sally’s vanity mirror while Bonnie buckled my wings back on, and I wailed in distress. “I wook wike a big baby!” Despite the pulsating stiffie that tented out the front of my shiny leotard panties below my frothy tulle skirts, I burst into tears of humiliation. The rear view was even worse and I sobbed in misery. “Now evewybody will know!”

The bedroom door burst open and Daisy pounced into her sister’s room, followed closely by two of her sniggering accomplices. “Everybody already knows, you stupid sissy baby!” Daisy scornfully declared, with a malicious smile for my look of horror. I realised the girls must have been lurking outside the door listening to our every word, and I felt my soul shrivelling in shame. I wanted a black hole to magically open up and whisk me away into nothingness. I wanted to disappear forever! “We could all see your baby panties and your disposable diaper sticking out under your tutu when you were playing ‘Pin the Corsage on Barbie,’ you dumb shit!” Daisy cruelly informed me. “They all know you’re a sissy boy named Jeremy trying to act like a prissy little girl. And everybody knows you just pooped your pants like a disgusting little baby. What a freak!”

I pressed my bobbing tulle skirts down over my tenting stiffie and shrieked in distress. I shouldered my way past Daisy and her jeering friends, accidentally knocking the birthday girl to the floor. “Leave her alone! She can’t help it!” Bonnie shouted in my defence, and she tried to grab Daisy before she could jump to her feet and follow me. I scurried down the hallway towards the back door, foolishly trying to outrun them as I headed for the Green’s back yard. “Hi Baby Jennie!” Stephen called in surprise, before I stumbled into him standing outside the living room doorway. His mother standing behind him looked equally surprised when she recognised me. “Oh look, Stephanie! It’s your little baby friend from the park.” I shrieked in alarm and shoved Steven - Stephanie - out of my way and dashed past them. Several mothers holding glass flutes of champagne stepped out of the kitchen to watch me as I noisily scurried through the sunroom. Although none of the women said a word, their disdainful bemused expressions spoke volumes.

The bulky cloth nappies jammed between my thighs reduced my pace to a slow wide-legged waddle. The pursuing pack of jeering Fairy Princesses easily caught up with me by the time I stumbled through the back door. “Baby baby, look at the stupid baby!” Daisy malevolently chanted from right behind me, her evil accomplices quickly taking up the refrain. The scalding-hot stream squirting uncontrollably into my fresh nappy was no consolation now. “Baby, baby, look at the stupid baby!” I knew everyone in the back yard was staring at the bulging plastic panties poking out from under my too-high tutu skirts. Some polite mothers covered their mouths to hide their condescending grins, but the children were not so kind. I looked like a stupid retard! I was a hopeless big baby trying to pass myself off as a pretty ballerina and everybody knew it. My face was burning and my ears were ringing and I felt like the world was spinning around me.

“Baby, baby, look at the stupid baby!” Tears of shame blurred my eyes as I stumbled through the crowd of jeering Fairy Princesses, trying to find my way home. “Baby, baby, look at the stupid baby!” Other high-pitched voices picked up the cruel chant, their heartless painted faces grinning maniacally at me as I desperately toddled towards the bushes separating our properties, my wet waddling cousin in hot pursuit. I didn’t hear Ellen Green and Tammy ordering the jeering girls to be quiet and leave me alone. All I heard was, “Baby, baby, look at the stupid baby!” The shrill voices seemed to grow louder, the incessant rhythm seeping into my tortured psyche.

I stumbled through a narrow gap in the oleander bushes, the spiky leaves catching my wings and my wide-flared tulle skirts and spinning me around. “Baby, baby, look at the stupid baby!” The malicious chanting faded behind me and the cruel laughter reached a crescendo as I thankfully plunged into my own back yard. I fell to my hands and knees onto the short mown grass, sobbing with a strange mixture of anguish and relief. I crawled towards home, whimpering and babbling incoherently like a useless baby, only to be brought up short by Bonnie’s huge hand grabbing me by the nape of my neck.

“Shhh! Shut up!” My cousin brutally commanded as I was shuffling past my pink steel kiddie-prison. “Don’t move, Baby Jennie!” She unbuckled my fluttering wings and removed them, and tossed them aside. She rolled me over and collapsed on top of me, trapping me in place with her massive weight. Her huge bosoms dangled distractingly either side of my stunned face. “I just saw my mum parking her BMW in your driveway, and she had someone with her. A little blonde girl. She looked kind of familiar.” Bonnie paused and poked her head to the right side, cautiously peeping down the side of our house towards the driveway, and then urgently ducked back. “They look like they’re heading into your house,” she quietly reported. “And the girl - she’s kind of dressed like you.”
“What? In a tutu?” I demanded incredulously, as I tried to wriggle free.
“Shh! Quieten down, baby! No,” Bonnie replied, frowning at my stupidity. “The blonde girl was dressed like a big baby, and even walked like a baby. You know? She was wearing a toddler harness, too - and my mum was leading her inside using a pair of pink baby reins!”

I struggled to roll over onto my tummy, but I couldn’t shift her weight off my body. “I don’t care!” I tearfully hissed in reply. “Get off me! I have to change my nappy! I’m not going back to the party drethed like thith!”
“Shh! Shut up, for God’s sake!” Bonnie urgently whispered. “Keep still.” I sighed with relief when she rolled off me, but I obediently remained on my back looking up at her worried face. “I just want to see who my mum has with her. Then we can try and sneak upstairs and get one of your disposables from your Nursery. I promise,” my cousin quietly guaranteed. I didn’t stop to wonder why Bonnie was being so generous with her offer to help. I only knew I was grateful for her unexpected offer. When she deemed it safe, Bonnie helped me to my feet and we slowly waddled hand-in-hand towards the house. We crept up the wooden steps and across the back veranda, and cautiously snuck over to the window overlooking the kitchen sink. There was a small gap in the café curtains either side, enough to peek through hopefully without being noticed.

The window was open slightly and we heard the murmur of approaching voices as Mummy led Aunty Cath and her mysterious friend down the hallway towards us. “No Cath, I’m sure I’ve never met Baby Pansy before,” Mummy was explaining, and I could hear her quite clearly. She was annunciating in that exaggerated over-precise manner of someone trying desperately to appear sober.
“Oh, I’m certain you have,” Cath replied, her booming voice brimming with confidence. “She just wasn’t dressed like this, is all.” Mummy stepped into view through the kitchen doorway and she stood at the entrance to the sunroom from the hallway. She looked magnificent! Her hair was tied up on top of her head in a bouncy blonde ponytail and she was wearing more make-up than I’d ever seen her wear. Her olive-green eyes looked huge and her long false eyelashes fluttered with uncertainty. She was biting her luscious red-painted bottom lip, gnawing it in anxiety. I had never seen my mother dressed or made-up so exotically.

Mummy was wearing a pair of thigh-high black leather boots I’d never seen before. They had a three-inch platform sole and a scary six-inch stiletto heel. I felt a twinge of concern when I saw her wobble slightly on her statuesque heels, and I hoped she had sobered up enough to be safe. The skin-tight boots had a turned-down flap around the tops of her plump womanly thighs, like pirate boots. They brushed the hem of Mummy’s ultra-short black leather mini-skirt. The cheeky skin-tight dress barely covered her curvaceous round bottom even when she was standing still! The only other item she wore was a full-length boned, black leather corset, with clips down the front and open lacing up the back, giving her a fabulous wasp-waist.

When Mummy turned side-on to me, I could see her huge fleshy bosoms had been squashed together and thrust up by the tight-fitting corset. They looked like delicious wobbly tanned jellies served on an exotic black leather platter, and the top of her corset barely covered her nipples. I was ready to duck down out of sight if it looked like she might glance into the kitchen, but Mummy’s gaze was fixed on the people coming down the hallway. I wondered what was taking them so long, but when Aunty Cath and her friend finally hove into view, I suddenly understood.

Cath appeared as Mummy stepped out of sight into the sunroom, and my Aunty was just as exotically dressed - if not more so. She too wore black thigh-high boots, only hers were made from gleaming patent leather with sharp six-inch stiletto heels and a two-inch platform sole. Her black leather skirt was so short, I caught a hint of the crotch of Aunty Cath’s glistening red satin panties when she took too long a stride. Her top consisted of a black leather bra with daringly low demi-cups, and her huge wobbling teats threatened to spill free of the restrictive harness with her every movement. Her narrow bare waist exaggerated the outward flow of her womanly hips and her navel was a flawless shadowed circle in the middle of her flat brown tummy.

Cath’s dark-brown locks had been slicked up and back with gel and styled into a high severe bun on top of her head, which added extra inches to her already-overwhelming height. She looked over six and a half feet tall! Her emerald eyes were dark and smoky with sexy make-up, and her sensuous full lips were painted a severe crimson shade. My tall voluptuous Aunt looked as sexy - and as menacing - as I’d ever seen her. She held a slender pair of hot-pink baby reins curled in one fist, and she carried a large matching, hot-pink overnight bag over one shoulder.

“Come on Baby Pansy,” Cath sternly insisted, and she gave a sharp tug on the reins. “Hurry up and crawl into the sunroom.” We finally caught sight of the object of her attention when a mass of curly blonde hair appeared low in the kitchen doorway looking into the hall. The girl Bonnie mentioned was a young woman in fact, but it was easy to understand my cousin’s confusion. The petite blonde crawled into view at the end of the slender pink leather reins, and I could see they were attached to some shiny chromed D-rings fixed to the back of her matching hot-pink leather toddler harness. She had her head bowed so I couldn’t see her face, but her long, tawny-blonde hair cascaded loosely over her narrow shoulders, almost all the way to her small balled fists on the floor. I noticed the petite blonde was wearing some hot-pink leather mittens on her hands, too. They buckled around her wrists with white leather cuffs and they looked exactly like my baby-pink leather mittens. I couldn’t see if hers were locked in place but knowing my strict Aunty, it was a pretty safe assumption.

Aunty Cath impatiently strode into the sunroom, remorselessly dragging the big baby girl behind her. The crawling girl was dressed in a baby-pink satin party dress in a familiar juvenile Empire-line style, with frothy white chiffon petticoats peeping out from underneath the high hemline. They were short enough that the lace-trimmed edges didn’t catch under her hands or knees while she meekly shuffled along on all fours - like most of my baby frocks. ‘Her babydoll gown must be as short as most of mine,’ I silently marvelled, and I wondered if her mummy made it for her?

As she crawled past the kitchen doorway, I could see a pair of hot-pink leather, wool-lined cuffs secured around her slender ankles, too. They were joined by a short steel chain threaded through a firm, 1” diameter, clear plastic tube about six inches long, which meant her slow stumbling pace advanced only a few painful inches at a time - despite the harsh way her irritable Mistress yanked on the baby reins to hurry her along. The crawling girl was wearing white anklet socks with elaborate baby-pink lace frills, and a pair of hot-pink soft leather Maryjanes on her dainty feet. As she crawled past Cath, the domineering brunette leaned down and viciously spanked the poor girl’s swaying bottom with her hard hand to urge her on her way. I recognised the familiar sound of an open palm striking wet plastic panties, and knew for sure the poor big baby was diapered just like me.

“Come on, Bonnie,” I whispered, noiselessly backing away from the kitchen window. “We’ll be able to see better from the next window down.” Unfortunately the windows overlooking the sunroom were at the side of the back veranda. While tall Bonnie would have no trouble peeping in the high window, I needed something to stand on. Luckily there was a sturdy plastic milk crate next to the green wheelie bin at the end of the veranda, which we used for our recycling. It was empty at the moment, so I grabbed the lightweight brown crate and carried it over to below the window. I turned it upside-down and made sure it was steady on the grass, and then carefully climbed on top. I was so nervous, I drenched my thick cloth nappies as I slowly raised my head to peek in on Mummy and her guests.

To be continued in chapter 38
Any comments?
Baby Jennie

Synopsis; Cath reminds Isabell of the first time she met Baby Pansy fourteen years ago, and Isabell recalls the erotic scene.

Chapter 38. Meet My Sissy Slave

“Stand up!” Cath sharply commanded. She used the slender leather reins to haul the crawling blonde girl to her feet. In her flat pink Maryjanes with the wafer-thin soles, the big baby barely looked five feet tall. I was certain she was wearing a thick disposable diaper under her exposed hot-pink PVC panties. Without seeing her face, I assumed she was a young teen, although her waist-length, showgirl-style, curly blonde hair looked curiously out of place on a teenager. ‘More suited to a movie-star in her twenties,’ I thought with a jealous twinge, unconsciously tossing back my bobbing halo of platinum curls like an envious little girl.

Cath snarled, “Stand up straight, you dirty, disgusting little bitch!” Even though her voice was low, the quiet fury in her tone made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. The poor girl struggled upright because of the short hobble chain, and then Cath stepped behind her and removed the humiliating baby reins, tossing them in the hot-pink leather overnight bag she left lying open on the sunroom carpet.

Cath asked Mummy, “Well? What do think of my sissy slave, Isabell?” She left the toddler harness buckled in place and the girl’s mittened fists ineffectually plucked at the broad leather strap under her high proud bosom. The tiny blonde had slender arms and legs, although I couldn’t see her waistline because of the billowing mass of chiffon petties. But from the way the bustline of her shiny pink frock poked out above her harness at the front, I could tell she was quite well-developed for such a little girl. She was wearing a hot-pink leather dog collar too, decorated with a half-dozen sparkling diamante studs. There was a small brass padlock at the back, securing it in place. I glimpsed a shiny heart-shaped metal tag dangling from the front of her collar too, like a proper dog tag. I wondered if there was anything written on it?

I finally caught sight of the blonde girl’s heart-shaped baby face and she was very pretty - although I upgraded her age somewhere closer to thirty than twenty. She had long black lashes that fluttered girlishly, and her high arched eyebrows leant her beautiful face a permanent expression of innocent child-like wonder. Her delicate dark brown eyebrows looked so perfect, I wondered if they were tattooed on, like mine? Her make-up was gorgeous - except for the panda rings of mascara around her frightened wide blue eyes from where she must have been crying earlier. She had rosy round cheeks and puffy pink-painted, bee-stung lips, like my cousin Bonnie. It looked like she had just stopped sucking a big dummy - or something.

Mummy sank into an overstuffed yellow lounge chair nearest the dining room’s double sliding doors, right opposite our viewing spot. She stared in confusion at the beautiful girl in the juvenile pink satin dress standing in the centre of the sunroom, blind to everything else. When I looked into my mother’s hazy olive-green eyes, I could tell she was still somewhat affected by alcohol. “She’s very pretty,” Mummy replied in a subdued voice. At least she didn’t appear to be stumbling or slurring her words, but she looked greatly troubled. “But I don’t understand why you brought her over here?”

Cath ignored Mummy’s delicately-worded question and stalked around the cowering girl like a slave auctioneer examining suspect merchandise, and then she turned her victim to face her sister sitting in the chair. She reached out and irritably straightened the girl’s slithering satin frock over her bobbing chiffon petticoats, like a cranky mother handling a naughty two-year-old. Despite her tugging, most of the girl’s shiny plastic panty bottom remained on display. Cath cautioned her charge; “Don’t you dare move a muscle!” The beautiful brunette looked so tall with her high tight bun and her menacing platform boots, and the cringing girl in pink looked tiny by comparison - like a real toddler cowering beside her stern-faced mother. My domineering Aunty turned to Mummy and insisted, “So you don’t recognise my Baby Pansy, Isabell? Maybe this will jog your memory.”

The bound girl started in fear when Cath wrapped her arms around her waist from behind and yanked up the front of her dress and petticoats. Pansy was facing mostly away from me and I couldn’t see what Aunty Cath was doing underneath her skirts, but I heard some oddly-familiar popping sounds. A few seconds later my suspicions were confirmed when my cruel Aunt brutally tore down the girl’s hot-pink baby panties. They looked like my Barbie-pink PVC panties, except these wetproof pilchers had a row of snap fasteners up the front either side. When they puddled over the plastic-tube-encased ankle chain between the poor girl’s dainty pink Maryjanes, Cath raised the gathered front of her pink dress and petties again. Even from the rear I could see the puffy white disposable diaper drooping between the humiliated girl’s splayed thighs.

“Well?” My Aunt tersely demanded of Mummy, and she looked quite irritated when my mother shrugged her bare shoulders in her most non-committal manner. “Hold you dress and petties up over your tum-tums for Mummy, Baby Pansy,” Cath sharply ordered. I heard the familiar sounds of tapes being ripped away. A few seconds later a soggy white adult disposable diaper flopped wetly to the floor on top of the open pink plastic panties between the cringing girl’s ankles. There was a huge yellowed wet spot over the front and through the middle, and the bottom crease of the girl’s naked bum cheeks poked out below the back of her bobbing petties.

I couldn’t understand why Mummy gasped in shock and covered her gaping mouth with one hand. “No!” Mummy muttered in denial, her olive-green eyes wide as the blood drained from her painted face. “Oh no!” I needed to see what Mummy could see. I didn’t know why it felt so important to me, but it did. I jumped down and grabbed my milk crate, and waddled around the corner of the house to the second window which overlooked the formal dining room. I knew I could see through the doorway into the sunroom, virtually looking over my seated mother’s left shoulder. I placed my crate upside-down on the grass and climbed on top again, wobbling unsteadily in my haste. When I peeped through the window, I almost fell over backwards. I steadied myself by clutching the bottom of the window sill, and heard rather than saw Bonnie creep up beside me. When she peeked though the window, she too, gasped in astonishment.

The buxom blonde girl in the baby-pink satin dress was awkwardly clutching her frothy chiffon petties under her high proud breasts with her mittened fists. There was a massive erection jutting out from between her legs! Cath was standing close behind her charge, grinning down at my Mummy’s stunned expression. My Aunty was so tall, she had to lean down to rest her chin on top of the petite sissy’s bowed head, Her cowed sissy baby was completely hairless everywhere, and the smooth pink skin around her crotch was stained off-white with damp baby powder. Pansy’s stiff peenie was hard and red and swollen, although something looked terribly strange. (?) It took me a few seconds to realise there was no ball sack dangling underneath the proud upstanding shaft. I thought how much neater everything looked without that ugly wrinkled scrotum down below.

Mummy was shaking her head in what I could only assume must be disbelief. “That’s unbelievable! She looks like a beautiful young woman! But how…? How can she have an erection?” Mummy demanded in confusion, pointing at the juncture of the humiliated sissy’s bare little legs. “I mean, how can he have an erection, if he’s been castrated?” My mother suddenly sounded completely sober.

Cath bent down to the side and curled her head around the red-faced sissy’s tiny waist. She peered down between her bashful baby’s smooth splayed thighs as if she didn’t understand what her sister was talking about. “Oh! That?” She chortled dismissively. “You have to admit, it looks so much tidier down there without-”
“Yes, but how can she- he-?”
“Chemicals,” Cath explained with a wicked grin. She reached around her trembling sissy’s loins and grabbed hold of his swollen jutting tool. She possessively enveloped the throbbing shaft in her large fist and squeezed. The pretty boy-girl bit her puffy pink-painted bottom lip and shuddered delicately at the sensuous firm grip, her long black lashes fluttering girlishly. “Better living through chemicals.” My Aunt’s laugh was an odd cruel sound, without a trace of humour. “But we’re not here to discuss my sissy baby’s current lack of equipment. Rather; do you recognise what she has left?”

“I- I-” My mother stammered, and I saw her put a shaky hand over her luscious red-painted mouth. She turned her head away from the provocative sight, and I could see her heavily made-up face was wracked with guilt.
“It’s alright, Isy,” Cath soothed her sister. She slapped the purple head of the sissy’s swollen red peenie against his powdery tummy to regather Isabell’s attention. Pansy’s face was burning with shame, her high round cheeks fire-engine red, and she anxiously gnawed her plump pink bottom lip with her tiny top teeth. I bet she wished she had a dum-dums! I chewed contentedly on the rubber teat in my mouth, grateful for my comforting baby soother.

“You can tell me the truth,” Cath assured Isabell with a superior knowing smile. “I already know, anyway.” Mummy didn’t look at all reassured.
“I recognise it - her – him! I met her - him - once before, at- at your place,” Mummy finally conceded, her beautiful face a mask of anxiety.
“That’s right! Very good, Isabell!” Cath encouraged her with a wolfish smile. “And do you happen to remember when that was, exactly?” Mummy’s head jerked to the front again but she couldn’t hold her sister’s sly knowing gaze. Like any good courtroom lawyer, Aunty Cath already knew the answer to her question.

Mummy jumped to her feet and strode to the side of the sunroom overlooking the back yard, so she wouldn’t have to keep staring at the exposed genitals of the cringing sissy baby. Cath released Pansy’s stiff bobbing peenie and dropped her petties to cover her shameful tumescence, and the poor embarrassed sissy sighed with relief and clumsily tried to smooth her billowing satin skirts over her tenting front with her hot-pink mittens. My Aunt turned to confront her sister, who was nervously pacing the carpet a couple of metres behind the embarrassed boy-girl’s back. Both leather-clad women looked so tall and intimidating, especially when juxtaposed with the tiny trembling sissy in her frills and lace. It was just as well little Pansy kept his wide blue eyes glued on the carpet. The sissy might have caught sight of us spying on them through the window, otherwise. I could see from the expression on Mummy’s face that she was struggling with some inner demon. I didn’t realise what a flood of memories Cath’s probing questions had unleashed. “Yes, I remember,” Isabell faintly replied. “It was right after my honeymoon.”

When Isabell and Brett had returned from their honeymoon almost fourteen years ago, all was not well with the newlyweds. Despite her eagerness, they had only attempted to make love three times during the whole two weeks they were on vacation. ‘Attempted’ being the operative word. Isabell felt crushed with disappointment when her muscular, handsome young husband first brushed aside her willing advances on their wedding night. When she did finally manage to talk him into consummating their marriage, he had trouble getting it up! She had used her hands on him first, then her mouth, and she was gratified to feel him stiffen and grow rock-hard between her suctioning lips. But he had erupted prematurely, almost choking her with his volume of salty cum. Then all Brett wanted to do was go to sleep, leaving her wide-awake, frustrated, and unbelievably horny.

It took several days for Isabell to build up the courage to approach him in bed again. He didn’t seem particularly interested, even when she paraded around their seaside cabana in the nude for him, hoping to titillate his interest. She knew she had a good body, and regular gym attendance and games of tennis made sure she stayed fit, supple and slim. Her C-cup breasts were high and proud, her waistline tiny, and her legs were long, muscular and shapely, even without the sexy high heels she normally preferred. Even though Isabell privately thought her hips were a little wide and her round fleshy bottom was a shade too big, every male she had ever dated regularly assured her it looked perfect on her tall slender frame.

Brett kept watching some dumb movie on TV and didn’t even seem to notice her provocatively strolling around in the nude. She was so horny her nipples were like hard little pink pebbles, and she discretely tweaked them to make them poke out more temptingly. His eyes never left the flickering screen. When she stood nude in front of the television with her legs splayed daringly wide, he gruffly ordered her to move out of the way and stop blocking his view. Finally she gave up and threw herself naked into bed. She pretended to fall asleep quietly seething with rage. The second time they tried to make love she used her hand to get him hard, and he ejaculated all over her thigh before he even managed to penetrate her. On the final night of their honeymoon, the third attempt wasn’t much better. He’d been drinking and he crawled onto her back and sprayed semen all over her buttocks and into her bumcrack when he clumsily tried to mount her from the rear. When she dared comment on his unfortunate lack of control, he jumped out of bed in a fit of rage. He threw on his clothes and stalked out of their cabana beside the moonlit lagoon, and went and got stinking drunk.

They barely spoke to each other during the flight home. It didn’t help that the couple in the seats across the aisle from her were obviously returning from their island honeymoon, too. You could tell by their shiny gold matching wedding bands - plus the way they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Isabell felt consumed with jealousy when they started fooling around under the blankets a thoughtful smiling stewardess had provided. Brett was snoring beside her next to the window - he always took the window seat - and Isabell feigned sleep to give the amorous couple next door the sweet illusion of privacy. She let her eyelids drift open a fraction and peeped at the daring couple through slitted lids while they caressed each other under the writhing blankets. She didn’t know whether to feel affronted or just plain jealous when the pretty twenty-something brunette discretely slid across the armrest and onto her husband’s lap. Isabell noticed the daring young woman’s white miniskirt was bunched up around her hips, before she belatedly covered her naked furry brown crotch with the blanket.

It was a night flight and the cabin lights were dimmed so the passengers could sleep, but Isabell could easily see what the couple were doing. She snuggled deeper into her own blanket and the hand innocently resting between her silky-smooth thighs slid up to cup the moistening crotch of her snug white nylon panties. Isabell used one fingertip to rub between her sensitive swelling labia, surprised by the slick wet feel of her crotch. She pressed the damp material inwards until her fingertip gently scraped across the thickening bud of her aroused clitoris, and she massaged the sweet moist spot in tiny circling movements. The woman across the aisle began bouncing up and down slightly, and Isabell saw her grab the back of the seat in front of her with both hands for support.

Her husband gripped her hips and helped thrust her up and down, and the bouncing brunette threw back her head and bit her generous bottom lip, trying to silence her muted cries of passion. In a few minutes, it was all over, and the quietly panting woman collapsed back against her puffing husband with a huge satisfied grin. It took the new members of the ‘Mile-High Club’ a few moments to untangle themselves, and the flushed-faced young woman climbed off him and headed towards the toilets.

Isabell could see she discretely carried her balled-up panties in one fist. She pulled down the back of her white miniskirt over her pert bare bottom with her free hand in a belated attempt to cover her nakedness, slowly waddling down the narrow aisle like she’d just climbed off a bucking horse. When the sweaty-faced man turned to glance her way, Isabell snapped her eyes shut and froze. She removed her playful finger before anyone noticed her writhing in her seat. She didn’t sleep a wink for the rest of the journey, her moist vagina aching with the need to be filled.

By the time Brett collected their luggage and packed their suitcases in a taxi, she was desperate to race home and make love to her husband. Unfortunately, he had other plans, and he asked the cab driver to drop him at his construction office on the way home. He climbed out of the taxi in spite of her voluble protests, and Isabell was furious! She let him know it too, before he slammed the car door and marched away. She had to ask the smirking cab driver to carry their luggage inside their beautiful new house, and as soon as she had tipped him and closed the front door, Isabell ran upstairs. She strode into her bedroom, ripped off her sweaty clothes, and jumped under a hot shower.

Twenty minutes later the scalding stream had washed away most of her anger and resentment, but she was still feeling unbelievably horny. The tall buxom blonde tried to masturbate but although the familiar caresses brought her pleasure, ten minutes later she was still unable to cum. She growled in frustration, knowing all she really needed was a good hard cock to fill her completely. Isabell turned off the shower taps, grimacing in annoyance. As she dried every inch of her lithe young, five-foot nine-inch body, she decided to go and visit her big sister. She had the rest of the week off and they only lived a few blocks apart now - thanks to Cath’s generous wedding gift of a fifty-percent deposit on their beautiful new home - although her pushy sister had insisted the deed for the house had to be in Isabell’s name only. Isy sighed. ‘Divorce made people go funny for a while,’ she mused in sympathy for her recently-separated big sister. Cath had only been married for five years, and it looked like it was all over. It was a pity, but she’d hardly gotten to know her millionaire brother-in-law, Peter. Isabell had only met the short, skinny, baby-faced lawyer three or four times, including on Cath’s wedding day.

Today was Wednesday, the day her rich older sister usually parked her two toddler girls at the day-care centre and played tennis at the country club. April was four and Bonnie was just out of nappies at the age of two. Isabell thought that two was a bit young to be left in the care of strangers - even expensive trained carers like those at the snooty country club. Isabell could hardly wait to have children of her own and raise them her way. She frowned and sighed bitterly in despair. Of course, she needed to successfully have intercourse with her husband first, and who knew how long that might take? When Isy snapped her gilt watch onto her wrist and checked the time, it was only nine a.m. She realised she had time to meet Cath at her place, and then they could drive to the club together. A vigorous game of tennis was just what she needed to burn off this excess energy and frustration. Plus, she needed to debrief to a sympathetic ear, and unload all the sordid details of her disappointing honeymoon.

She clipped on her white cotton sports bra and tugged on a pair of high waisted, full-cut cotton panties. Isabell tossed on her favourite tennis outfit, consisting of a snug baby-pink collared polo shirt that was tight across her firm, high, C-cup breasts, and a brief white skirt that showed of a hint of her curvaceous round bottom cheeks every time she slightly bent over on the court. She grinned at her own cheekiness as she tied her white sneakers in place over her short pink sports socks, glancing over her shoulder at the fabulous view of her panty bottom she could see reflected in the mirror. She knew her long honey-blonde hair, cute face and sexy figure attracted lots of attention every time she walked onto the courts, especially when accompanied by her beautiful buxom, brunette big sister.

Isy didn’t mind giving the male members a little free show of her lush ripe, twenty-two-year-old body. She wanted to feel desirable today, and the way men looked at her while she was wearing this outfit usually provided that much-needed rush. She grabbed her racquet and handbag and slipped out the front door, and jumped into her sporty little red Fiat. Five minutes later she arrived at her sister’s place, and she parked on the kerb to leave the driveway clear. Her watch showed ten past nine when she turned the handle and threw open the front door to her sister’s huge house, without bothering to knock first. “Hey sis!” she yelled on entering. “I’m back!” Isabell would never forget the sight that greeted her eyes.

There was a petite blonde woman dressed in an elaborate black satin maid’s outfit, teetering on some impossibly-high, black patent stiletto-heeled court shoes, in the hallway leading to the garage. Her short dress flared out crazily around her silken upper thighs because of the fluffy white petticoats underneath. The maid turned away from the tall wooden bookcase lining one side of the shorter hallway, and shrieked in alarm when she spotted Isabell. She tried to run past Isy into the main hallway leading inside the house, dancing on the tips of her slippery leather soles. She was forced to take tiny steps because there was a restrictive steel chain binding her slender ankles. Isabell could see the slim, eight-inch hobble-chain was securely locked in place with two tiny brass padlocks. There was a narrow black patent leather collar around the girl’s throat, too. It looked like a fancy dog collar, locked in place at the nape of her neck with a matching brass padlock.

The girl had shoulder-length tawny-blonde hair capped off by a black mob cap with pretty white lace frills all around, matching her sheer lace-edged white pinafore apron. Her shiny satin dress was short enough that it showed off the bottoms of her fluffy petticoats and her fancy ruffled black garters, where they were clipped to the lace-edged tops of her sheer black silk stockings. The maid wore a ton of make-up, including some enormous false eyelashes, which fluttered like black moths around her frightened blue eyes. She looked like a fancily dressed maid from an old-fashioned musical theatre show, including her wide-eyed open-mouthed look of horror. She clumsily backed down the hallway away from Isabell, who instinctively followed her.

“No, no,” the girl moaned in a breathless high-pitched whimper, batting her long false eyelashes furiously in distress. “You can’t be here! You shouldn’t be here! I was supposed to lock the front door after Mum- after Mistress left. The door should have been locked! Mistress will kill me!” she moaned in fright, tottering backwards on her pencil-thin heels.
“Who are you?” Isabell demanded sharply to cover her surprise. “What are you doing in my sister’s house?”
“I- I- I’m the maid,” the terrified girl stuttered, as she backed towards the sunroom at the far end of the hallway. ‘You can’t be here! Please, you have to go!” she earnestly begged the intruder, her flushed painted cheeks glowing like stirred coals in the fireplace.

“Oh really?” Isabell snorted, sounding like she didn’t believe a word of it. “The maid, huh? With that chain around your ankles and that collar locked around your neck? I don’t think so!” The frightened petite woman tried to cover the front of her tell-tale slave collar with one tiny hand as she blindly backed towards the low wide oak coffee table in front of the cream leather lounge. “Where is my sister?” Isabell demanded, “Why isn’t she here?”
“Tennis,” the terrified girl snivelled, looking like she was about to burst into tears. “She plays tennis every Wednesday morning between nine-thirty and twelve noon. Oh please go. You must go!”

Isabell ignored the girl’s pathetic pleading. “It’s barely ten past nine now. Where is she?”
The cowering maid looked confused as well as frightened as she stumbled another pace backwards. “No, no, it’s almost eleven-thirty!” she timidly protested, as if terrified of contradicting a superior. “Mistress is at tennis. Oh please? Mummy mustn’t find out you were here.”

Isabell consulted her wristwatch, only then remembering she had forgotten to reset the time when their plane landed this morning. The time was two hours later than indicated by her fake gold, imitation Pierre Cardin watch. ‘Damn!’ she thought in annoyance, but she tried to cover her mistake by maintaining the offensive. “You’re one of those kinky people Cath told me about. Aren’t you? The ones that go to those ‘Bondage and Discipline’ parties my sister used to go to with her ex,” Isabell accused the sexily dressed young woman, poking the cringing girl in the chest and driving her another hobbled step backwards. Isabell saw there was a row of diamante letters decorating the front of the girl’s collar, and she rudely smacked the girl’s protective hand out of the way. Isabell’s sensuous top lip curled in a disdainful sneer when she read the revealing word, ‘slave’. “You like to be tied up and smacked around, and told what to do. Don’t you, slave?”

The accused’s bright blue eyes widened in fear, and her mouth silently gulped open and closed like a stunned goldfish. Tears of guilt and shame brimmed in her rapidly-blinking blue eyes, which desperately darted everywhere around the room as if seeking some avenue of escape. When the slave-maid’s slender stockinged calves struck the solid edge of the coffee table, she stumbled backwards onto her bottom. The red-faced girl screamed in alarm as she collapsed onto her back, her chained ankles flying high into the air. The veins in her slender neck visibly throbbed, pulsating with fear against her snug black leather collar. The narrow white lace-trimmed hem of her short black satin dress and her bunched chiffon petticoats flew up over her tummy to reveal her unusual underwear.

Apart from a lacy black suspender belt, Isabell had been astonished to find a huge pair of pink plastic baby panties under the shiny black dress and frothy petticoats, with a row of snap fasteners down the front at each side. The girl’s stiletto-heeled court shoes dropped to the carpeted floor, accompanied by a noisy metallic rattle of chain. Isabell leaned down and grabbed the tight elasticised waistband of her baby pants to tug the cowering girl to her feet, but instead the snaps unfastened, popping open to reveal a tenting white adult diaper underneath. The tall blonde gasped in astonishment. “Oh my God! You’re wearing a diaper! And it’s wet, too!” Isabell was more than a little confused by the phallic projection bulging out the yellowed front of the embarrassed girl’s obviously wet diaper, and she impulsively reached down and grabbed hold of the odd protrusion. Her olive-green eyes widened in shock when she realised she was grasping a long hard penis through the damp puffy disposable.

“You’re not a girl! You’re a man!” Isabell squealed in surprise. When the supine maid nodded apprehensively, Isy reached up and roughly ripped open the well-used diaper. Her eyes were like saucers when she spotted the proud swollen penis jutting up from the sissy maid’s glistening hairless crotch. It was at least an inch or two longer than her husband’s barely-adequate specimen, and the girth! It was almost twice as thick, and Isabell couldn’t stop herself wrapping her fingers around the throbbing hot prize in estimation. Her tip of her thumb and her longest finger barely met around the sissy-slave’s manly girth, and she marvelled at the comparison with her husband’s slender inadequate tool. The swollen crimson head was warm and spongy to the touch, and a drop of clear pre-cum leaked out of the single eye indicated he was ready for action.

Isabell’s moist pussy spasmed at the sight of this proud male projection, and her feelings of frustration and anger came boiling to a head. “It’s not fair,” she muttered resentfully to herself. “Cath’s newly single and she has this to play with; yet I’m newly married and I can’t even…” The words died in her throat as a wicked thought popped into her head. She squeezed the rock-solid erection until the little sissy moaned helplessly in arousal, and her voice became teasing when she demanded, “You won’t ever mention I was here to my sister, will you?”
“No, no,” the confused sissy gasped in terror, her tiny hands flopping backwards onto the coffee table in passive acceptance of her plight. “Mum- Mistress Cath - she can’t ever know!” The frightened boy-girl watched with wide blue eyes as the beautiful tall blonde straddled her hips, placing her bare kneels wide apart on the broad oak coffee table.

Isabell reached under her short white tennis skirt and deftly pulled aside the crotch of her snug cotton panties. “Then you probably won’t tell her that I did… this! Ahh!” In one fluid motion, she eased the pulsating crimson crown of the sissy’s swollen fleshy staff deep inside the velvety warmth of her sopping-wet pussy. She couldn’t believe how aroused she was, how ready and open, and the slick wet walls of her creamy vagina splayed wide to accept his magnificent girth. The huge hard cock filled her as never before, and she couldn’t restrain her shuddering cries of ecstasy as she slowly sank down till she had swallowed him whole. Her wide-stretched pussy lips moistly kissed the sissy-boy’s smooth hairless belly as Isabell accepted him to the hilt. She was thrilled to hear his feminine cries of passion as she impaled herself on the only visible sign of his masculinity.

When Isabell gazed down at the supine sissy, the contrast between what she could see and what she could feel inside her was unbelievable! She was looking down at the pretty painted face of a frightened young woman, who had her skirts and petties rudely shoved up over her small bosoms like a common slut, while a huge male cock pumped in and out of her rider’s slippery tunnel of love. “Oh God,” Isy moaned in excitement. “I can’t believe it! You’re so pretty! Ohhh! You look like a real girl!” When she told him how pretty he looked, his huge cock swelled even more, stretching the clinging muscles of her slippery vagina erotically wide. “Oh God! But your cock is so big and hard! Oohh!” He groaned in passion too, and thrust his rampant erection harder and deeper inside her. Isy knew she was close to climaxing.

“Yes baby, yes!” Isabell loudly encouraged the bound sissy slave. “Fuck me, you pretty girl! Fuck me, you gorgeous little sissy! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck meeee!” She screamed with unbridled joy as the huge pounding cock slamming against her cervix her pushed her over the edge. Isy grabbed his breasts with her clawed fingers and she could feel his soft latex falsies shifting inside his bra as she gasped and shuddered to an unbelievable climax. Her vaginal walls clamped down on him like a velvet fist wrapped in slick wet satin, squeezing him remorselessly. She could hear the sissy underneath her whimpering and moaning with excitement too, and the bouncing boy-girl suddenly grabbed Isabell’s wide womanly hips and held on tight.

He thrust himself as deep inside her as possible and squealed in his high girlish voice, “Mama! Mama! I’m just a baby girl! I wanna be a baby girl forever!” But Isabell was too intent on coming down from her own tumultuous orgasm, her eardrums pounding with the sound of her own racing heart. She barely heard a word the sissy boy babbled. “Ga-ga goo-goo!” he mumbled, and he moaned in relief when he violently climaxed inside her, squealing, “Ga-ga! Ga-ga! Ga-ga-goo!” Isabell enjoyed the pulsating spasms of his thick swollen tool as he helplessly unloaded his balls all over her pouching cervix. By the time she regained her sight and hearing, the babbling sissy had fallen silent.

She remained on top of him for a few more minutes, her splayed knees resting on the hard oak coffee table, until they both stopped shaking and she had regained control of her breathing. Isabell let his shrivelling member slide out of her slick wet tunnel and she slid the sweat-dampened crotch of her cotton panties back into place, rearranging the absorbent cotton gusset to catch any dribbles which might accidentally leak out. She climbed off the aghast sissy slave, who began to weep in abject remorse. “Oh shut up, you big baby!” she snapped at him, while she stood and straightened her tennis skirt. She was delighted when his tearful cries instantly sniffled to a stop. If only she could control her errant husband like that!

“I guess I don’t need to see my sister after all,” Isy decided aloud, and she smiled wolfishly at the tearful sissy’s grateful expression as she backed towards the hallway leading to the front door. “Now don’t forget - you won’t mention to your Mistress - or was it your Mummy? - that I was here. Will you, slave?” She could see him sitting up on his squishy wet diaper and shaking his curly blonde locks in horrified denial as she walked backwards down the hallway. “You better change that wet diaper though, sissy. You smell like an unwashed toilet.” She giggled at his feminine embarrassed blushes. “Now remember; I won’t tell if you won’t!” she instructed the sissy-slave in a cheeky sing-song tone, before departing with a cheery wave. “Bye-bye, baby girl!” With a satisfied chortle and a wiggle of her hips, she let herself out the front door and safely locked it behind her.

Isabell thought no one would ever know of her brief marital indiscretion. But now, almost fourteen years later, the truth was coming back to haunt her. She took a deep breath and sighed with remorse, then confessed; “I drove over to your place, Cath, on the morning I returned from my honeymoon, and I found this… sissy there, dressed in a black maid’s outfit.” Isy shuffled over to the lounge and flopped backwards onto the overstuffed cushions, her booted thighs splayed wide, -not caring that she was exposing the crotch of her tight black satin panties. Her tiny black leather skirt crept up high around her wide womanly hips. Her sister took a short pink riding crop from the overnight bag, and gave the pink leather-tipped end a few trial cuts through the air. I winced at the menacing swishing sound, but Mummy didn’t even glance up.

“That’s right, Isabell,” Cath crooned in syrupy approval. “I figured that was when it happened - even though this silly baby couldn’t remember the exact date.” She stepped to one side of the cringing sissy and swept the pink crop in an upward blow under his frock and petties, expertly cutting him across both plump botty cheeks. WHICK!
“Ow!” the little fairy cried in pain, and her mittened hands leapt back to cover her poor bottom while she did an awkward little skip forward due to her restrictive short hobble chain. That made Mummy look up.

Cath snarled, “Keep still Baby Pansy! Get your silly hands away from your bottom! That’s better…” WHICK!
“Oww! Oh no, Mummy, please?” WHICK! “Ow!” WHICK! “Mummy nooo!”
Cath brutally cut off his whimpered pleas for mercy. “I told you what would happen if you spoke without being spoken to first. Didn’t I?” When he didn’t instantly respond, she grabbed him by one ear and savagely shook his head, making his long blonde ringlets dance. I noticed the whimpering girl had glittering diamond stud earrings just like mine. “Didn’t I, baby girl?” she demanded even louder.
“Yes Mummy! I’m sorry Mummy! It won’t happen aga-”
“I’ll say it won’t happen again,” Cath rudely interrupted his snivelling apology.

She grabbed one of his mittened hands and pressed it against the sissy’s bulging breasts. Aunty Cath attached the white leather wrist-cuff to the metal D-ring on one side of the wide chest strap of her sissy baby’s leather toddler harness with a small metal clip. I noticed his hot-pink harness had the words ‘Baby Pansy’ emblazoned across the front in sparkling diamantes, like Bonnie’s white toddler harness. The wrist-cuff on the other mitten was swiftly restrained to the matching chromed D-ring in the same manner, and Cath gave his wriggling arms a shake to make sure they were safely secured. “We know how to keep bad little girls like you quiet, don’t we?” Cath malevolently insisted. She rummaged in the hot-pink overnight bag once more, and came up with a strange pale-pink baby bonnet. “I said don’t we, Baby Pansy?”
“Yes Mummy- Umph!”

“Time for the bad baby bonnet,” Cath sang with a wicked smile. The close-fitting cap she slipped over the sissy-boy’s curly blonde locks was made of thin baby-pink leather, like my baby mittens, with two narrow straps dangling down either side that buckled together under the chin. Like my humiliating satin baby bonnet, hers also had a wide frill of stiff white lace sewn across the front of the brim and down the sides, restricting her vision in all directions except down. There was another wide pink leather strap across the front too, which covered the sissy’s mouth. It had some strange black bulbs poking out of it, front and back. Cath swiftly fed the soft inner rubber bulb into her sissy’s open mouth first, and I heard him desperately sucking on it like an oversized baby pacifier. Once the bonnet was tightly buckled in place under his chin, that dummy wasn’t coming out. Not only that, Cath grabbed the other bulb hanging down from the mouthpiece by a short black rubber tube and gave it a few firm squeezes.

“Make your baby sounds,” the heartless brunette tersely ordered her bound sissy slave. I heard him trying to mumble “Goo-goo-goo-goo.” With each squeeze of the bulb, the black rubber dummy in his mouth inflated even more. The anxious sissy’s infantile babbling became quieter and less intelligible, until you couldn’t hear a peep from the gagged big baby. Her shackled mittens began to flail about her bosom in fear, and only then did my grinning Aunty stop pumping. Cath then unscrewed the short black tube connecting the pump bulb to the pink leather mouthpiece, leaving her bound sissy baby with no way of deflating the efficient dummy-gag. Cath tossed the gag pump in the overnight bag and turned back to her trapped silenced sissy baby with a victorious smile. “There,” she muttered in heartless satisfaction. “Little girls should be seen and not heard. Right, Isabelle? Right?” she repeated, demanding a response from her stunned sister.

“Yes, I guess so,” Mummy faintly replied. Her sister stepped over to the couch and leaned down close to Mummy, resting one hand on the wide yellow arm of the chair.
“What was my sissy baby wearing again, when you walked in on her that day?” Cath innocently asked, like she needed to be reminded.
“A black satin maid’s dress with petticoats underneath, and a sheer white pinafore apron,” Mummy dully responded, although I could barely hear her voice.

“Oh good, you do remember. Then you’ll probably remember what you did next,” Cath prompted her with an evil leer.
“We- we- we had sex,” Mummy haltingly confessed, all the colour draining from her face. I reeled back in surprise, tightly clutching the window sill to maintain my balance. Mummy looked and sounded so ashamed of herself, my heart went out to her. I felt Bonnie stumble beside me and I turned to look at her in concern. I couldn’t understand why my buxom pigtailed cousin clutched the window sill for support with both hands, her bent knees trembling, her pretty face pale and anguished. Why would the thought of my mother having sex with this sissy baby upset her so much? But Bonnie wouldn’t look at me and a few seconds later she cautiously raised her head to peep through the window once more.

I turned back to the bizarre scene inside the house when Cath threw back her head and laughed uproariously at Mummy’s candid admission. The strange harsh sound cut off as abruptly as it started, and her crimson top lip curled in a disdainful sneer. “Oh no, sis. You didn’t just ‘have sex’ with my sissy slave. You fucked her! Didn’t you?” She backed away and paced between Mummy and the cowering gagged sissy as she clarified, “After all, when I went to tennis at the country club that Wednesday morning as usual, I locked my collared sissy slave in a hobble chain to do her domestic chores - as usual. She certainly couldn’t have chased you! But then, she certainly couldn’t have run away, either. Right?” Mummy nodded pensively again, her pretty face wracked with guilt.

Cath glared down at her crestfallen younger sister, but her tone was restrained when she asked, “What else was Pansy wearing under her skirt, Isabell? Can you tell me that?”
“Pink plastic panties,” Mummy responded, looking even more ashamed.
“And…?” Cath prompted.
“And a diaper,” Mummy finished with a sigh of regret.
“Was it a wet diaper?” Cath inquired in a polite interested tone, and Mummy sheepishly nodded. My domineering brunette Aunty clucked her tongue in reproval and shook her head in disappointment as she paced backwards and forwards along the length of the sunroom.

“So you pulled down my sissy slave’s baby panties and her wet diaper, and you fucked her,” Cath flatly stated, like she was coldly laying out the facts for a jury. My mother nodded in stoop-shouldered misery and Cath paused in front of her. “I want to hear you say it, Isabell,” Aunty Cath ruthlessly insisted, and Mummy’s blushing red face dropped in shame.
“Alright, Cath. I fucked him. Alright?” She raised her gaze to stare up defiantly at her bossy big sister, her olive-green eyes glistening with unshed tears. Bright red spots of anger appeared on her pale cheeks. “I fucked your sissy slave until he came. We both had an orgasm and we both enjoyed it,” Mummy added a tad spitefully. “Is that want you wanted to hear?”

I was astonished by my Aunty Cath’s peculiar satisfied grin. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear you say, sis.” Her victory laugh was strangely brittle, and I understood why when she quietly added, “You just didn’t know he was my husband!”
“What!! What did you say?” Mummy shrieked, jumping to her feet in alarm. She wobbled unsteadily on her towering black platform boots and she looked like she was going to pass out.
“You heard me,” Cath scoffed. “You had sex with my husband. Well, my ex-husband. This sissy Baby Pansy is really my ex-husband, Peter.”

Mummy pointed at the cringing sissy baby in disdain. “That thing is your husband? No! Impossible! She looks far too young, and those tits-”
“It’s amazing what a limitless bank account and some good plastic surgeons can achieve over a few years. Remember all those month-long trips the girls and I took to Thailand, about ten or twelve years ago?” Cath laughed harshly again. “No, Isy. I’m afraid this pretty sissy baby is my ex-husband. And you had sex with her.”
“Oh no! No Cath, no! No, no, no, no, no, no, no!” Mummy babbled in fruitless denial, and she fell back in her seat with her eyes squeezed shut and defensively covered her ears as though she could block out the shameful truth. I heard a low moan from beside me and when I glanced her way, I noticed Bonnie had her eyes tightly scrunched closed, too. Confused, I turned back to watch my mother’s reaction to this startling news. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry,” Mummy kept repeating.

Cath leaned forward and plucked Isabell’s palms from the sides of her head with a wry forgiving smile. “It’s okay, Isy. You didn’t know. My naughty sissy baby should have told you her name. But she was too ashamed to admit the truth to my kid sister.” She patted Mummy’s drooping shoulder reassuringly. “I’m sure if my Baby Pansy had told you her real name, you wouldn’t have touched her with a ten-foot barge pole.”
“That’s right, Cath,” Mummy gasped, willing to clutch at any straw her big sister cared to offer.
“But she didn’t tell you, did she? And it was all her fault the front door was open in the first place. If my sissy-slave had locked the door behind me like she was supposed to - like I’d ordered her to - you wouldn’t have been led into temptation.”
“Yes Cath, that’s all true. It was all her fault,” Mummy gratefully agreed, the words tumbling in a rush from her quivering red lips.
“Which is why I need your help punishing my naughty sissy baby. Okay?”
“What? I- I- I-” Mummy mumbled uncertainly.

Cath grabbed her sister’s hands and dragged her back to her feet, where she wobbled unsteadily on her towering black stiletto heels. “I need a drink first,” Mummy blurted, and she headed for the kitchen.
“Good idea, sis. Make me one too, will you? Scotch and coke with ice, and make it a strong one,” Cath insisted.
“Okay Cath,” Mummy distantly replied, and from the kitchen I could hear the sound of ice cubes being poured into glasses. I knew she was intrigued when she called out, “When did you find out your husband was into… well, you know?”

Cath laughed scathingly before she asked in turn, “What? That my husband was a big sissy baby who liked to be treated like a naughty, pants-wetting little girl?”
There was a few moment’s silence before Mummy cautiously replied, “Well, yes.”
“Oh, he was dressed like this the first time I met him,” Cath blithely responded, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
“What?” I heard Mummy cry in amazement. An ice-cube shattered noisily on the hard kitchen floor. “Oh shit!”
“That’s your father?” I asked my cousin in an amazed whisper. Bonnie slowly nodded, a mixture of shame and confusion clouding her pale painted face.

Cath opened the pink overnight bag and took out a fresh white disposable diaper, and she walked around the lounge where Mummy had first been sitting and into the formal dining room. I almost fell off my milk crate trying to duck out of sight. When I glanced at Bonnie crouching down beside me, her tinted cheeks were drained of colour. We could still hear every word her mother was saying. “Yes I met him at a fetish party - the first ‘B&D’ party I ever attended, when I was eighteen. I told you a bit about it when I got home later that night,” Cath loudly reminded her sister. “We were still sleeping in the same bedroom at mum’s place back then, remember?” Mummy made no reply as she struggled to recall that night over twenty years ago.

To be continued in chapter 39.
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Baby Jennie

Synopsis; Cath recalls the first time she met Baby Pansy.

Chapter 39. Mistress Cath and Baby Pansy

Cath gave her bound and gagged sissy-slave a salacious smile. It was a night she would never forget! It all began one day at work, when one of her co-workers from the vast legal secretarial pool at her office had been looking at some naughty pics on her computer screen. Eighteen-year-old Cath unexpectedly popped her head around the corner of Marie’s cubicle to ask a question, and caught sight of a picture of a pretty girl in a fabulous shiny black catsuit and corset. “Wow!” Cath commented in surprise, before she could stop herself. “Is that you in that picture, Marie?” The embarrassed young woman immediately closed the file, wiping the picture of a wasp-waisted blonde girl dressed in an exotic black latex outfit from the screen. It took Cath a while to convince her workmate that she was really interested, and the suddenly-shy twenty-four-year-old secretary let her look at a few ‘less raunchy’ pics.

After work Cath insisted on taking Marie out for a drink, and after some prompting (and five bourbon and cokes) she learned all about some of the bondage and discipline clubs around Sydney, and the fetish parties they regularly held. The black latex bodysuit and leather corset Marie had been wearing in the pics had been loaned to her by a chunky forty-something man named ‘Dress-up Chris.’ “His fetish is to dress up beautiful young women in these exotic outfits, and take some pictures before he escorts you to a ‘B&D’ fetish party. You don’t have to show your face, if you don’t want to - but he promises never to post the pictures anywhere, anyway. He’s a bit old, and kind of a perve, but he’s pretty harmless,” she giggled, “and he’s got an unbelievable wardrobe of kinky outfits. You should come along some time. You've got a great body. He’d love to dress you up, sweetie!” When Marie offered to take her to the next fetish party in three weeks time, Cath jumped at the chance.

Cath had a naughty little secret she’d never told anyone. She had only been seventeen when dropped in unexpectedly to visit her twenty-year-old boyfriend at the place where he lived with his two older male flatmates, late one Saturday morning. She blithely opened the unlocked front door and casually walked down the narrow hallway into the tiny terrace house in the back streets of Annandale. All three tenants were poor university students, and the furnishings were rather impoverished. She could hear the TV blaring and she knew someone was home, so she strolled towards the lounge room at the end of the long dingy hallway. The twenty-two-year-old man sprawled on the ratty lounge shrieked like a startled little girl when he spotted her! He swiftly covered his rampant stiffie with a handy towel. He scrabbled for the remote with the other hand.

“Oh my God!” Cath squealed in surprise, covering her wide emerald eyes and turning away in embarrassment. Although she had already caught a good look at his sexual equipment, and she was mentally filing away the raunchy image for future reference. The embarrassed young man frantically yanked up his pants and ejected the VHS cassette he’d been masturbating to. He grabbed the pile of boxed tapes lying on the floor and scrambled into his bedroom out the back.

Cath turned around from where she’d been loitering in the hallway to forlornly apologise, but the door slammed shut behind him. She heard the sound of a lock firmly closing. Her face fell as she thought dismally, ‘I didn’t mean to embarrass the poor thing! I mean, everybody does it. Don’t they?’ Then she spotted one of his video cassettes lying on the threadbare Turkish rug. He’d missed one in his rush. She picked it up and examined the lurid cover. It was entitled, ‘Piss-slaves Delight,’ and featured a dominant-looking young woman in a tiny rubber skirt and a tightly-laced latex corset.

The first thought that flared into Cath’s mind was that this tape might be about her most secret private fantasies. She would never admit to anyone that sometimes she dreamed about going to the toilet on someone, while she furiously masturbated to a gut-wrenching climax. She had occasionally waited until she was alone in her home, (which with her mum and two sisters constantly flitting about, wasn’t too often) and she sat on the toilet with her little panties down around her ankles and daringly placed her hand between her legs while she emptied her full bladder. It felt so naughty letting the hot smelly pee-pee pour into her cupped palm and feeling it warmly trickle through her wiggling fingers. She always had to masturbate to a shuddering climax immediately after she finished urinating. Sometimes she couldn’t even wait that long! Cath had even been so bold as to taste her pee-pee a few times, and found it strangely sweet, yet salty, and bitter at the same time.

There were several small photos on the back cover of the cassette case, most showing beautiful half-naked women as they stood or squatted over their kneeling or supine slaves, while each domineering woman emptied her bladder into her chosen subject’s mouth. For some reason Cath’s mouth went dry when she gazed at the wicked scenes, and she felt a warm gush of arousal between her trembling thighs. She was turned on by the erotic taboo images, and when she thought about doing something like that to her cute boyfriend, she knew she was dampening the cotton gusset of her snug nylon bikini panties. She opened the cassette case with trembling fingers and checked the videotape was inside, and then popped it in her handbag. The nervous seventeen-year-old scampered out of her boyfriend’s terrace house before anyone else walked in.

The first moment she found herself alone at home, she played the filched video on the family system. It was every bit as wild and erotic as she had imagined! Not only were these dominant young women pissing on their slaves faces and in their mouths, some of the disgusting little submissives eagerly swallowed their outpourings and gratefully thanked their Mistresses afterwards. And the things the women said! They called their slaves dirty little toilets and told them that all they were good for was to be used and abused by dominant women. They ordered their slaves to drink their piss and lick them clean afterwards, until their Mistresses climaxed all over their faces. Cath masturbated to five thunderous orgasms before the film had even finished, but she had to pause from her pleasurable solo play when one of her kid sisters returned home unexpectedly.

‘I could never tell Isabell about this,’ Cath thought, as she carefully hid the taboo tape under her bedside table, in the bedroom she shared with her straight-laced younger sister. Over the next twelve months the buxom young brunette had watched the naughty video repeatedly, every time she felt especially horny and could schedule some alone-time at home. She lay back one day panting after her fifth or sixth tumultuous orgasm, her dripping pussy twitching spastically and her face shiny with perspiration, thinking, ‘I can’t wait to start work and move into my own apartment!’

Eighteen months later, Cath had successfully completed her legal secretarial course and found a job, but she was still living at home. She’d dumped the old boyfriend months ago, but his embarrassed flatmate moved out to parts unknown before she had the chance to talk to him about his secret perverted interests. Her ex-boyfriend was so straight and he never wanted to experiment with anything slightly kinky, to her deep regret. But meeting Marie in the next cubicle at work later that year had opened up a whole new world of possibilities for her.

She met Dress-up Chris a few weeks later and when he finished dressing her up for her first fetish party, she looked like a sexy dominatrix from her favourite naughty video. She wore thigh-high black leather boots with a discrete one-inch platform sole that was almost invisible and a six-inch heel that was so high and narrow, she had to practice walking around the old perve’s house in front of a mirror for ten minutes before she felt confident enough to stride out the front door. She felt like she was balancing on her tippy-toes like a prima ballerina, but she looked so tall and powerful when she glanced at her amazing reflection in one of Chris’s full-length mirrors.

She wore a black leather boned corset which laced up the back, and it pushed up her meaty D-cup breasts till they formed enormous fleshy mounds almost under her chin. The stiff leather cups were cut so low Cath expected her large russet nipples to pop free at any moment, although the corset did give her an amazing wasp-waist and a mind-boggling cleavage. Her short red latex miniskirt was skin-tight and displayed several inches of her plump womanly thighs above her boot tops, although unfortunately you could see a visible panty line, especially across her big round bum. Dress-up Chris pleaded with Cath to go without any panties, but she steadfastly refused.

‘I can always take them off at the party,’ the stunning brunette thought with a cheeky grin, but she wasn’t about to tell the old perve that! Her friend Marie was wearing the same black latex catsuit as last time, and it required both of them to fasten the heavy-duty zip up the back. Marie was wearing her own thigh-high leather boots made from gleaming black patent leather, and she told Cath they cost her a small fortune. Dress-up Chris then laced Marie into a tiny red leather corset too, until Cath could almost stretch her large hands all the way around the slender woman’s miniscule wasp-waist.

Cath thought their escort looked pretty boring in his baggy black leather trousers and plain black silk shirt, but when he left the room to lock up his house, she clutched her friend’s wrist. “I can’t believe how excited I am!” She admitted to Marie. The grinning blonde handed her an open can of Coca-cola and then offered her a small white pill. “What’s that?” Cath demanded in confusion.
“It’s ecstasy,” Marie replied with an enticing red-lipped smile. “Have you ever tried it?” When a wide-eyed Cath shook her head in denial, Marie laughed. She pushed the tiny tablet into the stunned girl’s gaping mouth and then tilted the can of fizzy drink towards her lips. “Wash it down with a swig of Coke,” she ordered. With a shrug of compliance Cath obeyed. The game eighteen-year-old had heard lots about the popular party drug from her friends, and had already decided to try it one day. ‘I guess this is the day,’ she mused philosophically as she swallowed the tiny pill.

The three kinksters shared a joint of sweet-smelling grass that Marie produced, then Chris led them into a room that had full-length gold silk curtains covering the windows at one end, where the giggling girls posed for some slightly risqué photos. After they viewed the pics on Chris’s computer and had a laugh, they jumped into his Audi and headed for the upper north shore, where the houses were grand and the grounds were spacious. When they arrived at the fetish party about half an hour later, Cath and Marie were flying. They met dozens of people on the way in, and most of them were dressed in exotic leather and/or latex outfits. There were slaves of both sexes wandering about, some naked or semi-naked except for their collars and cuffs, and many of their restraints appeared to be locked on. Some Mistresses even had proper chain or leather leashes attached to their slave’s collars, which they used to lead their property around.

Cath found the sight of them oddly arousing. As she strode through the extensive house she knew her good looks and voluptuous appearance were turning plenty of heads, and she felt strong, powerful and attractive. She and Marie gracefully accepted tall crystal flutes of delicious ice-cold French champagne from a subservient well-built young slave boy. He was dressed only in a leopard-print G-string and a wide spiky collar. Cath grinned impishly when she caught Marie trying to be discrete while she ogled the cute slave-boy’s tight oiled buttocks and well-packed lunchbox.

Dress-up Chris led them straight through the spacious sunroom at the rear, across the terrace and into the vast back yard. He introduced them to Master Tony and Angel Anne, their gracious hosts for this evening of debauchery. Master Tony was a short, heavily-tanned bodybuilder, and Cath noticed he was wearing huge black platform boots to compensate for his lack of height. His veined upper arms were wider than her thighs, and his thighs looked like brown tree-trunks, with thin pulsating vines creeping up all around. She had to hide her smile. In his rubber-soled platform ‘Herman Munster’ boots, tiny leather shorts and leather chest harness, he looked like a condom stuffed full of walnuts.

Angel Anne was Master Tony’s plump, pale-skinned submissive, and the smiling, big-breasted blonde wore a shiny white latex mini-dress that looked at least a size too small. Over the top she wore a boned white satin corset, with a pair of fluffy white angel wings strapped to her shoulders. She had enormous creamy breasts that threatened to spill out of the top of her tightly-laced corset every time she took a deep breath. Cath watched her heaving fleshy bosoms in fascination. She sipped on her delicious chilled champagne and gazed around in wonder at the scattering of bizarre costumes.

Most of the guests in leather and latex appeared over forty, although there was a sprinkling of younger people like herself and Marie, and a few outrageously-dressed guests looked to be in their sixties or seventies. Cath saw women dressed as men and men dressed as women, and some of indeterminable sex. There was an attractive, mid-thirties brunette woman tied face-up to some metal stakes buried deep in the ground in the middle of the huge lawn. The bound woman was naked except for her purple leather knee-high boots, matching leather slave collar, and purple wrist and ankle cuffs. She had a good body and a pretty face, and Cath casually walked around the staked-out woman till she was standing looking right between the hapless victim’s forcibly spread legs. She could see the terrace lights behind her reflected in the shiny slick wetness of the shackled slave’s gaping vagina.

Cath and Marie stood and watched with dozens of other guests while her owner, a muscular forty-something bare-chested man, in leather trousers and with a shaved head, stroked her quivering body with flaming balls at the end of two sticks. ‘Fire play,” murmured Marie in Cath’s ear. He slowly ran the lit ends over her twitching legs, around her shuddering torso, and up and down her quivering arms, and Cath wondered how much it hurt? He seemed to deliberately linger on her hard erect nipples and the hairless juncture between her trembling splayed thighs. Although the girl occasionally seemed to writhe in pain and moaned aloud once or twice, she never once asked her master to stop. He tortured her with fire for about twenty minutes before he put out the burning wands in a bucket of sand, and released her from the metal stakes.

Marie led Cath back inside the house and offered to show her around the mansion, for that’s what it was. There must have been around ten bedrooms, all open save one. Most rooms lacked beds, although each room contained at least one piece of heavy dungeon equipment for binding slaves for discipline and punishment. Quite a few of the bondage devices were in use, and there was a small crowd in some rooms, where interested voyeurs watched exhibitionistic guests playing sadomasochistic games. There were racks on some walls hung with leather whips, floggers and crops, and a couple of rooms contained tall wicker umbrella stands full of slender bamboo and willow canes. No one seemed to mind when the two beautiful, exotically-dressed young women lingered in some of the doorways to watch events unfold.

The girls paused in a couple of doorways and watched several people of both sexes being flogged, spanked or caned in various rooms. A slave brought fresh glasses of champagne on a tray and took away their empties, and as Cath sipped from her second flute, she sensibly decided to limit herself to only two glasses of alcohol. She felt fantastic, and the pill of ecstasy gave her a wonderful feeling of carefree exhilaration she’d never experienced. A while later she asked the next collared submissive she saw to bring her a large glass of cold water. She gave him a smile of thanks when he returned a few minutes later, holding out a full glass tumbler containing a few cubes of floating ice. In one large bed-less bedroom, a beautiful thirty-something brunette Mistress dressed in a similar manner to herself, had a forty-year-old, solidly-built, naked man bound face-down over a wide padded spanking bench. The muscular victim had his black leather wrist and ankle cuffs locked in place, and rings riveted to the cuffs were tied to the metal lops bolted to the four wooden legs of the spanking bench.

The curly-haired Mistress in the black latex miniskirt paused from her punishment duties to smile lasciviously at Cath and nod in approval at her sexy outfit. She settled her overflowing bulging bosoms back inside the low-cut cups of her own red leather corset, and drew back the wooden paddle once more. She slammed the long implement against the out-thrust buttocks of her tightly-bound subject, and he moaned in pain as his pale wobbly butt cheeks began to turn red. After about a dozen hard whacks, she turned the paddle so the leather-wrapped handle faced the gorgeous girl in the doorway. She asked Cath, “Would you like to have a go?” Cath heard Marie gasp from beside her.

When Cath stepped into the large, mostly empty bedroom, she was acutely aware that her kitten was dripping with excitement. ‘I’m glad I’m wearing panties,’ she thought with a grateful smile, as she carefully strode across the polished wooden floor, ‘otherwise my pussy juices would be dripping down my thighs!’ She loved the menacing ‘click-clack’ sound of her stiletto heels on the polished floorboards as she purposefully strode across the room. The varnished oak paddle was about twenty inches long and four wide, and less than an inch thick. The black leather-wrapped handle seemed a perfect fit in her clenched fist, and Cath gave it a few experimental swings to get a feel for the hard punishment implement.

The brunette Mistress advised, “About twenty should do.” She gave Cath friendly smile. “I’m Mistress Genevieve, and this is my slave Shane.” She carelessly indicated the bound pale-skinned man who lay across the red leather covered spanking bench, but her hazel eyes never left Cath’s face. “He uses the usual safe words.”
“I’m Cath. Safe words?” she asked in confusion.
“Yes, the traffic light system. You know? Green means go for it, amber means you’re getting close to your slave’s limit, and red means stop. Got it?”
“Got it,” replied Cath, thinking, ‘This is too easy!’

The gorgeous brunette stepped into position and lined up her target, and she felt a surge of adrenaline run through her tall voluptuous frame. Inside her corset, her nipples were so hard they almost hurt. She had to concentrate on not touching the throbbing moist patch between her legs. The first few blows she laid on the bound slave’s bottom were a bit hesitant, but by the time she reached number ten, the recipient’s head was bucking with each vicious smack, and his shivering red bottom cheeks had begun to turn crimson. Cath felt fantastic! She felt strong, powerful, and completely in charge for once in her life. She loved it! She deliberately increased the strength of each blow, until by number fifteen, the trapped victim threw back his head and gasped, “Amber! Amber, please Mistress?”

Cath almost climaxed on the spot, but she reined in her spiking emotions and leaned over the soft padded bench to wrap her fingers in the bound slave’s prematurely-white hair. She wrenched his head up, stretching his thick muscular neck painfully far back. “What was that, slave?” she coldly demanded. She felt a warm wet trickle down her inner thigh when he humbly replied.
“Oh Mistress! Please Mistress? I’m not sure if I can take much more!” he gasped breathlessly.
“Only five more to go, slave,” she cooed like she was talking to a silly small child. “You can take five more for me, can’t you slave?”
His voice was almost a sob. “Yes Mistress. Thank you Mistress.”

She released his cropped white hair and let his head drop with a satisfied smirk. The next four blows were just as hard as the last, and he cried out in pain at each one. But she put all of her considerable strength into the final twentieth stroke. She had played tennis regularly every week ever since she was twelve, and her forearm strokes were incredibly powerful - as the poor slave could soon testify. He yowled in agony and burst out sobbing at the final cruel blow, and she shuddered on the brink of orgasm. When Cath turned to his Mistress with a victorious grin, the older woman smiled in approval and nodded in satisfaction. “Well done, my dear,” Mistress Genevieve muttered quietly to Cath as she accepted her paddle. “You know how to teach dirty little slaves like mine a good lesson. That was excellent work, Mistress Cath!”

Cath smiled broadly in appreciation before she collected her glass of water from a stunned Marie. She drained the remaining contents at a single gulp. “Thank you for the opportunity,” she politely responded, “but I must go and get another drink. That certainly is thirsty work!” She needed some fresh air, too. She was glowing with a combination of effort, euphoria, and sexual arousal. There was a thin film of perspiration over her bulging breasts and above her sensuous top lip, and she didn’t want to ruin her make-up. Cath left Marie gaping open-mouthed in amazement at the laced back of her black leather corset as she walked away. The excited woman pressed her fingers against her erect love button through the tight latex skirt, shocked by how wet her panties were. Cath wandered outside in search of the open bar that people told her was set up on the terrace. She soon found a willing subservient collared girl to fetch her another glass of iced water. When she checked her watch, she was amazed that two and a half hours had sped by so quickly.

There were only a couple of people on the well-lit sandstone terrace, and she walked away from the bright floodlights to join a tiny girl with the high blonde pigtails, standing next to the wide stone balcony railing overlooking the vast back yard. The petite blonde had her back to Cath, and she was wearing a shiny baby-pink latex dress in a brief babydoll style. It was so short you could see a hint of her glistening rose-pink latex panties poking out underneath. Cath unkindly thought the girl had a very big bottom, although her short legs were slender and very shapely. She was wearing a pair of classic flat white Maryjane sandals on her tiny feet, with the single strap buckled over the instep, and pink frilled white anklet socks more suited to a little girl under the age of six.

Cath sipped from her glass of ice water as she strolled over to the balcony railing to linger beside the tiny woman. She appeared to be less than five foot tall, and Cath felt like a invincible giant in her skyscraper-high boots. A cool breeze rustled through the tall eucalyptus trees bordering the yard on all sides, and Cath felt the film of sweat on her body evaporate in an instant. She looked down at the milling crowd in the huge back yard, estimating there must have been at least fifty guests in sight, plus the dozens more playing or perving inside the house. This was the biggest, fanciest party she’d ever attended! As her damp panties rapidly cooled, she felt a warning twinge from her bladder. Cath realised that she’d better locate a bathroom fairly soon, but she was distracted when the tiny pigtailed blonde beside her addressed her in a high trilling voice.

“Wow! You’re gorgeous!” The rosy-cheeked girl in pink latex complimented Cath. She gazed up in wide-eyed wonder at the towering brunette Amazon standing beside her.
“You look pretty cute yourself,” Cath replied with a grin, and the little girl beamed up at her in delight. The tiny blonde had wide bright blue eyes that sparkled with mischief and her false eyelashes batted femininely up at Cath. Her generous smiling lips were painted pink and shone with lip gloss, and her nose was small and perfect. Cath noticed she was wearing a terry cotton bib around her neck like an overgrown toddler, and the collar and outside edge of her bib were trimmed with wide white lace.
“Thank you, Mistress!” Cath didn’t know why but she felt her heaving bosom swell with pride, and she stood a little straighter when the pretty little blonde addressed her by that respectful honorific. “You look absolutely majestic!” The tiny girl in pink latex added, which made Cath chuckle in delight.

“I’ve never been called ‘majestic’ before,” she admitted with a wide smile of appreciation.
“Oh but you are,” the submissive sweetie replied with total conviction that made Cath’s heart beat a little faster. “I’m Baby Pansy,” the tiny blonde introduced herself, and pointed to the pink silk lettering embroidered on her bib. Cath leaned down and read the words, ‘Bad Baby Pansy’ and chuckled at the embarrassing tell-tale inscription. “Is this your first fetish party?" Pansy inquired. "I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”
“Yes it is,” Cath replied with a delighted smile. “I’m Mistress Cath.” She shivered at the feeling of power her new title bestowed her, which reminded her that she needed to find a toilet shortly. She pointed her chin at the milling chattering crowd below. “It’s fantastic!” The tiny blonde smiled and nodded happily in agreement.

The cute little girl in pink latex dared to inquire, “Do you mind if I ask, Mistress Cath - what are you into?”
“I’m sorry?”
“What is your fetish?” The tiny blonde clarified, her fluffy pigtails bobbing nervously. “This is a fetish party, after all. It’s the one question everyone is allowed to ask other guests - and expect a reasonably honest answer.”
“Oh!” Cath replied, looking surprised. She sipped on her water while she considered her reply. No one had explained to her that there were rules. Before she answered she asked, “What about you? What are you into?”

The pretty girl in pink laughed brightly, a clear bell-like sound that made Cath smile. “I thought that would be obvious,” Pansy replied, glancing down at her juvenile latex outfit and frilly bib. “I’m what you call an ‘adult baby.’ I like to wear nappies and toddler frocks, and be treated like a naughty little two-year-old girl who can’t control herself.” Cath laughed gaily in response and when the poor little girl’s high round cheeks turned red with embarrassment, she hurried to apologise for her rudeness. “No, no!” the red-faced girl waved away Cath’s apologies. “It’s okay. I love it when people - especially beautiful women - laugh at me.” Baby Pansy shivered with excitement and unconsciously pressed the front of her nappy against her crotch with one hand. “It turns me on something chronic to be humiliated in front of beautiful women,” she confessed, her big blue eyes shining with arousal.

“Oh, I see,” Cath slowly responded, her emerald eyes wide. She couldn’t help smiling down superiorly at the sweet little adult-baby girl. “Well, I just paddled someone’s bare bottom for the very first time, and I have to admit-” she glanced around to make sure no one else heard her naughty admission when she quietly confessed, “- it did make my pussy rather wet!”
“That’s wonderful!” the girl in pink latex breathily responded, her wide eyes filled with hope and excitement. “I love being spanked when I’ve been naughty. I like to have my wet nappies changed at these parties in front of lots of women, too, so everyone will know what a hopeless little wetter I am,” the girl added, her high sweet voice rising in excitement. Pansy raised the front of her pink latex dress over her tummy so Cath could see the thick white cloth nappies she was wearing under her tautly-stretched, translucent pink plastic baby panties. No wonder her bottom looked so big! The big baby crisply patted the front of her plastic panties with the cupped fingers of one hand, and after years of babysitting her neighbour’s kids, Cath recognised the distinct sound of a wet nappy underneath.

“You sound very wet, Baby Pansy,” she commented. The tiny girl nodded in happy agreement, obviously impressed by Cath’s expertise.
“I love being all warm and wet,” the grinning girl cheekily confessed. “I love playing pee-pee games.” That comment abruptly brought Cath’s heightened senses to full alert.
“Do you have someone here to change your wet nappy, Baby Pansy?” Cath politely inquired, wondering why anyone would take on such a burdensome task.

“Oh yes!” the big baby girl replied with a happy grin. “There are two older women here at the party who enjoy playing ‘Nanny’ sometimes, and I’m hoping one or both of them will change me later.”
“What happens if you wet through and make a mess?” Cath inquired, fascinated by this strange, frank young woman with the bizarre infantile fetish.
The pretty girl gave a sheepish giggle. Her definitive reply was, “I get spanked!” Cath’s grin grew wider.
“Do you enjoy being paddled?” Cath asked, and her excited pussy twitched wetly at the girl’s eager response.
“Oh yes, Mistress,” the wide-eyed girl breathed in reply. “Especially if I’m put over the lap of a beautiful tall Mistress like you, to have my bare bottom paddled really hard for being naughty!”

Cath laughed brightly at the hopeful leading statement, her emerald eyes twinkling. “Perhaps later, Baby Pansy - if you’ve been naughty,” she promised, making the tiny girl’s pretty face light up with hope. “But first - I need to find a bathroom. I need to do a wee rather badly,” she quietly admitted, watching the baby girl’s face to gauge what effect her words might have.
“Really, Mistress Cath?” the girl quickly demanded, sounding terribly excited by the news. Her fluttering blue eyes went wide with hope when she boldly suggested, “Perhaps I could help you out with that?”
“Whatever do you mean?” Cath asked with an innocent smile.

The tiny blonde pointed to the shadowed far end of the lengthy back yard. “Master Tony has set up some ‘privacy booths’ for those who wish to use an ‘alternative toilet’,” Baby Pansy explained with a secretive shy smile. When Cath appeared confused, the sheepish blonde clarified. “Some of the guests like to be piddled on, or used as toilets. You know? Like me,” she quietly added, almost as an afterthought. The blushing big baby could hardly meet Cath’s sparkling emerald eyes.

“So not only do you wet your nappies like a big baby, you like to be treated like a potty, too?” Cath demanded, deliberately making her spell it out.
“Yes, Mistress Cath!” the humiliated girl humbly confessed, “I’m a dirty bad little baby girl who needs to be shown how big girls use the potty - from right up close.” For some strange reason, the more the girl blushed and writhed in embarrassment, the more turned-on Cath felt. She held off responding for a minute and mercilessly stared down at the humiliated overgrown toddler in silence. She discretely pressed her silky-smooth upper thighs together so that her swollen moist pussy lips rubbed against each other.

“Alright then, Baby Pansy,” Cath finally replied, after a drawn-out pause that left the poor waiting girl shivering with anxiety. The towering brunette placed her half-full glass of water on the wide sandstone railing. Cath commanded, “Show me where these privacy booths are set up.” The diapered baby girl in the pink latex frock eagerly led the tall dominatrix down the back stairs and through the crowd towards the far end of the back yard. Someone had cleverly laid down long narrow strips of old linoleum in various places, like temporary paths across the grass, so the ladies wouldn’t sink in their pencil-thin heels during the party. Pansy led Cath to the dimly-lit rear of the yard, where wide strips of hessian had been nailed to some wooden gardening stakes hammered deep into the lawn. Six lit mosquito lanterns planted in the nearby garden bed showed two roomy cubicles in the flickering light, with a Hessian wall about four feet high surrounding them on three sides. Not high enough to stop anyone from peeping over, but enough that if you crouched or sat down behind the screen, you would remain invisible to the rest of the guests partying in the back yard.

Pansy led her around the back to where the cubicles had an open side facing the rear fence. In the first one, Cath saw a clear Perspex, open-fronted toilet seat mounted on a four-legged steel frame, sitting about eighteen inches above the well-manicured lawn. A roll of white unscented toilet paper hung on a wire hanger from the garden stake nearest the porcelain-free throne, and there was a small garbage bin with a plastic liner and a snap-lock lid sitting in one corner. Just the sight of a toilet seat reminded Cath that her full bladder was about to burst. As soon as she was out of sight of the rest of the party, the towering brunette tugged her tight red latex skirt up over her corseted hips, and boldly ripped down her red nylon bikini panties. The cotton gusset was already drenched with her pussy juices, and Cath decided there was really not much point putting them back on. She eased the damp panties down her booted thighs and they dropped to her ankles. She daintily stepped clear of the silky red knickers, leaving them in a shiny puddle on the grass.

Cath was shocked when the tiny girl plucked off her blonde wig to reveal a mannish crop of slicked-down, short blonde hair. “Oh my God! You’re a man!” the semi-naked girl cried in amazement. Pansy only looked thrilled by her comment as she carefully placed her pigtailed wig aside on top of one of the wooden stakes.
“You didn’t know?” Pansy demanded excitedly. When Cath nodded, she asked again for confirmation. “You really thought I was a girl? Really truly?”
“Really truly,” Cath replied with total conviction. She couldn’t get over how much the cute sissy boy looked and sounded like a small girl. She confessed, “You even sound like a female! I honestly thought you were a pretty teenage girl.”

“I’m actually twenty-four,” Pansy admitted, seemingly overjoyed by the stunning Amazon’s kind words. The tiny grinning blonde threw herself down onto the grass on her big padded bum, and slid her little legs under the toilet seat between the steel legs. She lay back and held the bottom hem of her latex frock with her fingertips, and then wriggled like a worm to get into position. Pansy slid her slender body further under the strange contraption until her head rested under the front opening of the wide Perspex seat.

Cath thought she was going to be emptying her bladder on a girl’s face, but somehow using a male - especially a pretty sissy boy like this one - as her toilet, seemed much more appropriate. The tall buxom brunette carelessly shrugged her broad bare shoulders and turned around, and slowly backed her naked bum towards the toilet seat. It was difficult manoeuvring on the springy grass in her stiletto heels and as she slowly shuffled backwards on her tippy-toes, she unintentionally poked out her curvaceous bare bottom for balance. When she spread her booted feet to step either side of his torso, she knew the supine sissy was gazing up between her splayed thighs, staring in abject adoration at the gaping juncture of her womanhood. She took care not to step on her waiting potty’s head, or puncture his pink latex dress with her pencil-thin heels. At first, she delicately covered her furry brown triangle and her moist crease with her palm and cupped fingers, but as she lowered her perfect round rear towards the seat, she knew the supine sissy would soon be able to see everything.

Cath had never felt so exposed - yet so in control. She removed her hand from her crotch as she settled her plump womanly bottom on the Perspex toilet seat, gratified to find it was just like sitting on a real toilet! The boned leather corset forced her to maintain a fairly rigid upper body posture, and she had to lean her head forward slightly to see down past her huge heaving bosoms. A gentle breeze caressed her bare limbs, carrying the citronella scent of the flickering lanterns to her nose. She gazed down between her spread thighs, smiling down at the pretty painted face looking up so hopefully at her through the gap in the front of the toilet seat. She felt like one of those evil Mistresses from the erotic pee-video, and she felt herself falling into her required role with unbelievable ease.

Despite her delight with the current arrangements, Cath forced herself to frown severely. She shook her head in apparent dismay at the supine sissy baby lying between her legs. “My oh my, Baby Pansy! What a dirty, wet little girl you are!” she coldly reprimanded the excited big baby. “Look at you down there! Are you wet, baby girl?”
“Yes Mummy,” he panted breathlessly in reply. She could tell the sissy pervert was reaching down to fondle himself through his thick wet nappy. He gazed up worshipfully at where her slick wet pussy lips were moistly parting, a look of combined awe and lustful hunger on his pretty painted face.

“What a bad baby girl!” Cath sternly chastised him, and she felt another thrill of excitement when he looked suitably penitent despite his obvious arousal. “You deserve to be punished, little girl! You smell like a toilet - so I’m going to treat like a toilet,” she snapped, trying to sound cranky with him.

“Yes Mummy, I’m a dirty, bad baby girl and I need to be potty-trained,” he slavishly agreed, gazing up at her with adoring wide blue eyes.
“That’s right! And I’m going to train you to be my potty. Open your mouth, Baby Pansy. Open wide! That’s it. Good girl! Now watch between Mummy’s legs,” she ordered sharply. “Watch and learn where big-girl’s pee-pee comes from.”
“Oh Mummy! Yes Mummy!” Pansy squealed in excitement before opening his mouth again, stretching his pink painted lips as wide as possible in preparation.

Even though she was desperate to pee, it took Cath a few minutes to initiate her flow. She’d never tried to urinate in such bizarre circumstances, and it took some concentration. She tried to ignore the sounds of people noisily partying only a few metres away and closed her eyes. She imagined she was sitting on the toilet in the bathroom at home, and she was about to pee into her hand. At first there was only a tiny trickle, and the greedy sissy baby wriggled down further and raised her head to catch the first few drops in her straining, wide-open mouth. Then Cath felt the floodgates burst, and a huge torrent of piss burst from her straining urethra. “Ahh,” she moaned in relief. When she opened her eyes and looked down, the submissive sissy was expertly catching all of her amber flow in his gaping mouth. Cath’s emerald eyes were wide with amazement when she saw his maw quickly fill to overflowing, before the supine sissy loudly gulped. Abruptly the golden contents diappeared down his throat and then he seemed to settle into a rhythm. He let her strong amber stream half-fill his mouth again before swallowing noisily, and Cath was amazed at how eagerly he accepted her salty-sweet urine.

“What a good little toilet you are,” Cath purred in delight. She watched him gulping down her urine in wonder, gasping, ‘Look at you, drinking down all Mummy’s piss! What a perfect little potty-mouth you are!” The perverted little Princess lying underneath her raised her head as Cath’s flow eventually began to slow, and the big sissy baby strained her open mouth up and forward until she was practically covering her Mistress’s parted pussy lips with her own painted pink lips. “Oh, good girl,” Cath cooed in approval. “Are you going to suck the last few drops from Mummy’s pussy? Go on, baby. Suck it all out!” With a muted cry of passion, the greedy sissy clamped her soft wet lips over her Mistress’s soft wet labia and sucked hard. Cath felt the remaining contents of her bladder literally being sucked out of her urethra. “Oh yes, Baby Pansy! Suck all the piss out of Mummy,” Cath quietly groaned. As the last drops squirted out of her, the cheeky baby began to gently lap her sensitive erect clitoris and tongue her open piss-hole. The beautiful buxom brunette was so turned on, it took only a few gentle sucks on her throbbing love-button to drive her to the brink of orgasm.

Cath reached down and wrapped her fingers in the sissy baby’s short blonde hair. She pulled his hot mouth harder against her warm wet opening. When she climaxed, she came so violently, some juice actually squirted out of her pulsating pussy, spraying the sissy’s frilly bib with her pungent personal scent - like she was marking her territory. She pressed her quivering chin onto her heaving breasts and tried to muffle her excited groans, but anyone within a few metres of the hessian curtains knew someone was having a good time back there! Her orgasm seemed to last forever! She kept the sissy’s mouth crammed between her legs until she started to shudder with reaction. She gasped in relief and released her clawed grip on his hair, but she was amazed when he didn’t immediately pull his face away. Instead the craven sissy slid even further underneath her, and she could hear his muffled cries of thanks as he slavishly licked her dripping vagina clean.

“Oh thank you Mistress, thank you!” Pansy gratefully babbled, and he continued to gently lap at her oozing pussy lips. Cath shuddered at the tender erotic sensations and made no move to climb to her feet. She needed to catch her breath first, and she loved the way the compliant sissy sensibly avoided touching her throbbing clit. It was too sensitive to even think about touching it for a minute or two!
“Very good, Pansy,” she panted, between rasping gasps for air. “You drank down all of Mummy’s wee-wees like a perfect little potty!”
The licking and sucking on her sensitive swollen labia paused long enough for the sissy to ask in his high-pitched feminine voice, “Was I a good little toilet for Mummy?”

Cath realised the affirmation must be part of the sissy baby’s dirty little fantasy, so she willingly followed his lead. “Yes, Baby Pansy. You were a very good toilet for Mummy,” she purred in approval. “You swallowed every drop of Mummy’s wee-wees like a good little toilet-girl. Mummy was so impressed, she might have to use you as her potty all the time from now on!” The servile sissy groaned in masochistic arousal and began licking and sucking Cath’s perineum, edging closer and closer to her wrinkled pink arsehole.

“Oh Mummy! Mummy? May I have a reward for being such a good toilet for Mummy?” he plaintively begged between thrilling wet licks.
“A reward?” Cath demanded, momentarily confused.
Pansy looked up hopefully at her face for a brief moment as he plaintively pleaded, “Please Mummy? May I lick your beautiful bottom clean, too?”
“Ohhh!” Cath replied in sudden understanding. She had to smile at the servile need she could see in those wide blue eyes.

He returned to softly lapping her sensitive perineum - that little baby-smooth patch of skin between her pussy and her anus. Cath shivered at the delightful erotic sensations while she considered his earnest request. She reached down and massaged her upper labia just above her throbbing clit, and she twitched at the sensitivity of her swollen bud. “Alright, Baby Pansy. You drank down all of Mummy’s wee-wees like a perfect little toilet, so you may lick Mummy’s bottom clean,” she finally conceded, trying to make it sound like she was granting him a huge favour. She had dreamed that someday a man would want to press his lips against every intimate opening of her lush young body, and here she had found for herself a perfect willing subject. And cute, too! Cath slid her plump bottom forward and raised herself off the seat slightly. She grabbed the sides of her round womanly cheeks with her spread fingers and stretched her bumcrack open, and then sat back down on the clear Perspex toilet seat. “Make sure you do a good job of cleaning Mummy’s bottom, Baby Pansy, or Mummy will have to spank!”

Cath had to giggle at his high-pitched squeak of agreement. She groaned in uncontrollable excitement as she felt the slippery tip of his tongue circle around her wrinkled pink hole, and then he licked her with the flat of his warm wet tongue, all the way from her perineum to the top of her perfect pink rosebud. The hot pointed tip then cheekily probed inside her puckered opening for a few moments, stiffening like a tiny cock to force its way inside her bowels. She began to masturbate as he wetly tongued her anus, and his excited snuffling grunts and groans as he slavishly serviced her poop-chute only drove Cath to new undiscovered heights of pleasure. She was so aroused, she knew she would climax again within minutes, even though she wanted the wonderful feeling to last forever. “Good girl, Baby Pansy,” she moaned in approval, her low voice thick and throaty with passion. “That’s right. Lick Mummy’s bottom clean. Ooo! What a good baby girl!”

The buxom brunette glanced back over her shoulder and looked down at the lower body of the sissy slave worshipping her anus. He had his pink latex dress and chiffon petties flipped up over his tummy, and his right hand buried down the front of his warm wet nappy. Cath could smell the sharp ammoniac tang of his pissy nappy from where she sat. From the way the tenting baby panties rapidly bobbed up and down, she knew the naughty sissy baby was furiously masturbating - just like her! The whole scene was incredibly arousing, and the alcohol and ecstasy combined to embolden her as never before. The fingertips flicking across her slippery erect love-button circled faster and faster when the sissy slave wrapped his puckered lips around her dilating anal ring. He slobbered and sucked on her sensitive back door as if he were trying to suck out the contents of her bowels.

“Oh, baby girl!” Cath cried, trying to keep her impassioned voice low. “You must be hungry, the way that you’re sucking on my botty-hole. Do you need Mummy to give you a little feed from her poo-poo hole, too?” That was all it took to drive the frantically wanking sissy baby over the edge, and he sucked on her puffy anus like he was dying for air as he noisily exploded inside his warm wet nappy. “Here baby, let Mummy push out something for you,” she grunted with a wicked smile. She bore down hard with her tummy muscles as she simultaneously climaxed, pushing out his wet pink tongue like she was forcing a slim turd out of her bowels. The sissy kept sucking her sweet hole even as he wetly burbled something against her delicate opening, the words indecipherable until his head dropped onto the grass.
“Ga-ga! Goo-goo! Ga-ga ga-ga goo!” He babbled mindlessly like the little baby girl he was supposed to be, until his body stopped twitching, and he lay there on the shadowed grass panting for air.

Cath sat on the bizarre toilet seat for a few more minutes until her legs stopped shaking, and then she slowly hauled herself upright. She carefully stepped over the toilet slave’s body to collect her discarded red nylon panties, and used them to wipe clean her dripping pussy and her spotless, saliva-drenched anus. By the time she pulled down her skin-tight red latex skirt, the satisfied sissy was sitting up next to the outdoor potty and gazing up at her with wide adoring eyes. “Oh Mistress Cath! Thank you so much!” The petite boy-girl shivered uncontrollably for a few seconds, then burped loudly.

Cath laughed brightly as she tossed the blushing sissy her soggy red knickers, crooning, “That’s alright, Baby Pansy!” He deftly caught the crumpled panties, and she laughed even harder when he pressed the dainty moist undergarments to his nose and lips, kissing them reverently. “You can keep those as a souvenir. When I need to use the potty again, I’ll come and look for you. And maybe Mummy can give baby a special little feed from her bot-bot, too! Okay?” She chuckled in wicked amusement at his grateful smile and eagerly nodding head. As she carefully stepped across the lawn towards the security of the linoleum strips, Cath noticed several people watching her. Most of them greeted her with sly knowing smiles and nodded in approval. She drew back her shoulders, poked out her tits on a plate, and grinned ecstatically as she rejoined the buzzing throng.

Unfortunately, Dress-up Chris had wanted to leave the party about an hour or so later. Cath didn’t get the opportunity to use her pretty new potty again - even though she really wanted to! She didn’t even manage to find the sweet sissy boy to say goodbye to him, but a few weeks later, she learned that it didn’t matter. He found her - and so began a whole new chapter in her life. She had attended many fetish parties since then, and she had indulged in so many nights of debauchery, ever since that wonderful first party at Turramurra. Cath shook off the fond memories of long ago and yelled out to her slow-moving kid sister in the kitchen. “Where’s that drink, Isabell?”

I snuck a peek over the widow sill a moment later, and saw Aunty Cath had turned around the wooden dining chair at the head of the mahogany table nearest the sunroom, and moved it a foot or so towards the wide double doorway separating the two rooms. It was then I noticed that in addition to Bonnie’s white toddler harness, my pink leather harness was lying in a tangle of straps on the dining table, too, as well as my baby-pink leather mittens. I briefly wondered why Mummy had got them out, but there were too many other distractions in the room clamouring for my attention. Cath opened a fresh, puffy, white disposable diaper and laid it out on the padded seat cushion. The dominant woman then ordered her bound and gagged sissy slave to shuffle over to the low-backed chair.

Because of the short hobble-chain, it took the poor sissy several attempts to climb onto the padded seat cushion of the reversed dining chair, on her knees facing the table. Her hobbled ankles hung over the edge of the seat, forced apart by the narrow plastic tube, and her shackled mittens clumsily clutched the top of the low-backed wooden chair under her chin. Cath watched her struggles with a small sadistic smile, and made no move to help the petite sissy. My smiling Aunty then thoughtfully rearranged the puffy open disposable between her charge’s spread knees, making sure the front of the diaper safely covered the carved wooden back of the formal dining chair, in case of accidents. Cath collected the soggy used diaper and the snap-front baby panties from the floor, and tossed them in an empty plastic shopping bag she took from the overnight bag.

I jumped down from my milk crate and shuffled back to the other window in the back yard, setting it up on the grass near the back veranda before climbing on top again. That way I was looking through the sunroom into the formal dining room from behind where Mummy intended sitting, and I could see the poor sissy’s big bottom poking out at me from under her frothy chiffon petticoats. Her pale wobbling rear looked like a plump girl’s bottom; round and smooth and curvaceous. When I heard a quiet noise beside me, I knew my cousin Bonnie had sidled over to join me. I glanced down at her pale face, and her pained expression was caught between trepidation and arousal.

To be continued in chapter 40.
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Baby Jennie

Synopsis: Cath explains the relationship between Baby Pansy and Baby Jennie. Isabell's husband Brett arrives home as the women are punishing Baby Pansy.

Chapter 40. Who's Your Daddy?

Mummy came back a few moments later carrying two tall highball glasses of scotch and coke, although her glass was half-empty by the time she returned to the sunroom. She shuffled closer to the dining room as her bossy big sister tossed the back of her kneeling sissy’s pink frock and petties high over her bent back, completely exposing her quivering striped bottom. Cath accepted her drink with a grunt of thanks, and she took a quick sip before placing the glass aside on the sunroom coffee table. “I don’t understand, Cath?” Mummy asked, looking terribly confused. “You married this big sissy baby, knowing… knowing he was like this?” She grimaced in disgust and flicked her fingers in contempt at the cowering girly-boy in pink satin and white chiffon, kneeling on the chair with her creamy bare bottom facing Mummy.

Cath laughed again. “There’s a lot more to it than that, Isy. But yes. I knew Peter was a dirty little potty-mouth sissy named Baby Pansy, from the moment I first met him. When I went to work for him at his family’s law firm several months later, I knew he secretly liked to wet and poop his nappies and dress up like a prissy little two-year-old girl whenever he could.” She decided this wasn’t the right time to inform her sister of her masochistic ex-husband’s other disgusting fetishes, or how he had tracked her down at the place where she worked as a legal secretary, a few weeks after that first eventful party. He had offered her an extremely well-paid job with his firm - starting as his legal secretary, but with the potential to become his chief personal assistant when he made partner - with certain ‘bonuses’ for looking after his bizarre kinky tastes during office hours.

For Cath it had been the opportunity of a lifetime. Apart from being a disgusting little pervert, her cute new boss was highly-intelligent, witty, and fun to work for. And as long as she regularly changed his wet and sometimes poopy diapers three or four times a day, he usually smelled fresh and clean too. Cath loved the sweetly familiar fragrance of baby powder and always used a ton of talc whenever she changed him. Within six months, Peter had asked for her hand in marriage, and she accepted - with certain conditions. “While we were married, whenever we were at home, I kept Baby Pansy diapered and dressed like the sweet little Princess he always wanted to be.” There was no need to tell Isy about the shenanigans they got up to at the office, or their wild trips overseas.

“How could you? Why would you want to?” Mummy demanded, looking aghast.
“Oh, Pansy made it worth my while, let me assure you. His father died of cancer when Peter was only twenty, and he obviously knew his only son was a diaper-wearing, panty-pissing fairy. Imagine that?” Her scornful laugh was brittle and unkind, and I saw the gagged sissy baby’s head droop in long-remembered shame. “His father had four big healthy daughters, and then at long last, an only son - and look what God gave him to carry on the family name. A puny little sissy fairy like this.” She pointed at the kneeling sissy’s bum with a disdainful sneer. Cath opened wide the double sliding doors between the sunroom and the dining room, and shoved aside the yellow lounge chair nearest the doorway to give her plenty of room to work. She grinned as she possessively patted the plump exposed bottom cheeks sticking out provocatively for her attention. I couldn’t help thinking how feminine the sissy’s curvaceous round rear appeared. There were already four angry red welts across both plump pale botty cheeks from the cruel kiss of the crop.

“Pansy’s daddy knew he was a sissy from the time he was four or five years old. He was still a bedwetter, constantly under the thumb of his mother and domineering older sisters. They kept him in nappies and baby dresses until he started school, and he was diapered every night until well into his teens.” Cath crooned mock-sympathetically, “The poor dear never had any choice! Anyway, Pansy’s daddy set up his will before the miserable bugger croaked, with certain provisions for his wayward effeminate son. Daddy was a successful patent lawyer. Instead of cash, he took a small percentage of some of the more commercially-applicable patents from his clients as payment. They made millions! Anyway, Pansy had to achieve certain… targets, before inheriting anything - and there was a considerable fortune to inherit.”
“Certain targets? Like what,” Mummy demanded, obviously intrigued.

Cath picked up the cruel punishment instrument once more and took a few practise swings with the pink crop that noisily cut the still air. I saw the kneeling sissy writhe in what I assumed must be fearful anticipation. “Like; Peter received a million dollars on graduation from an acceptable university with a law degree. If he made partner in the family law firm before the age of thirty, he inherited another five million dollars. If he married between the age of twenty-five and thirty-five, he got two million. He was twenty-four when I met him, twenty-five when I married him, and twenty-six when he made partner. For every child - another two million, and if he successfully remained married for at minimum of five years - he collected another five million. After ten years - another five million.”

“Oh my God!” Mummy exclaimed, although she looked a little hurt. “How come you never mentioned any of this to us?”
“What? Me tell you and Mum and Margie that I was marrying for money? Don’t be ridiculous!” Cath scoffed, and Mummy had to nod in shame-faced agreement. They would have given Cath hell! “Anyway, I was actually rather fond of him -” She patted the sissy’s protruding bare buttocks possessively, “- and my pretty sissy baby did offer me a million dollars to marry him, and a million for every child, and another million if we remained wedded for five years.”
Mummy’s expression was torn between confusion, horror and avarice. “How much…?” She stumbled, unable to complete the question.

Cath tossed her a winning smile. “You know he helped me get my law degree part-time?” Mummy silently nodded. “Well, with some help from the girls at the firm, I drew up a contract - kind of a prenuptial agreement. He purchased the house in my name, and I made sure that the mother received half of each inheritance for each child within thirty days of the birth. Now that we’re divorced, he pays me maintenance till they’re twenty-one years of age, including the girls’ tech and University fees and all the household bills.” Cath couldn’t help looking pleased with herself when she smugly gloated, “When I gave you that quarter-million deposit on this house all those years ago, it didn’t even touch the interest I’d earned! There was a little over fourteen million dollars in my bank account the last time I checked.”
“My God,” Mummy gasped, covering her mouth in shock. “I had no idea how rich you were,” she blurted before she could stop herself. “But what about the girls? What about April and Bonnie?”
“Oh, they don’t know about the money,” Cath replied with a self-satisfied smile. “I wanted to give them a fairly normal, middle-class upbringing-”
“No Cath!” Mummy cut her off. “I mean, do they know their father is… you know?” Isabell disdainfully waved her hand at the kneeling sissy’s shivering bare botty-cheeks again. “Like this?”

Aunty Cath’s smug smile grew broader. “I had to keep my part of the marriage contract. I dressed my Baby Pansy in her toddler frocks and nappies and treated her like the perfect little baby girl she always wanted to be whenever she came home from Kindy.” Cath snickered fondly at the memory. “That’s what we always called Pansy’s workplace - her Kindy. The arrangement worked perfectly - until April was nearly five. Maybe four and a half. I can’t remember exactly. The girls used to love it when Mummy and daddy played ‘Mummies and babies’ with them. Pansy was my baby girl, Bonnie was April’s baby, and she was so good at changing her sister’s nappies by the time she was four.” Cath sighed with long-remembered regret. “But then April started telling the other kids at day-care about the way her daddy used to get diapered and dressed like a baby girl, so he could play babies with the other girls at home. Of course her friends didn’t believe her and gave her a hard time. April got upset and told one of her carers at the centre, too, insisting that her story was true. I had to make up some stupid story about Peter rehearsing for a silly work skit when the young woman questioned me about our dress-up games later that afternoon.”

Isabell stared at her sister with her painted red mouth gaping open in astonishment, and Cath explained, “That was when I decided that Baby Pansy and I had to part ways. I knew that as long as I broke it off before April turned five, the girls would have no real lasting memories of their father dressing like a sissy baby girl and having his dirty nappies changed.” She grinned triumphantly. “So the answer is - no, they don’t know.” I turned to glance questioningly at Bonnie beside me. When she hesitantly met my gaze, she shook her head in denial. From the expression I could read in those astonished golden orbs, I knew prior to this moment my cousin had no idea of the truth. I wondered if the same was true for April?

“Anyway, we’d been married longer than the required five years by then, so I didn’t mind my big baby girl moving out of my house and into an apartment nearer the city with her elderly Nanny. We picked up her Nanny during one of our business trips to London, a year before we separated. Pansy gave me my rightful share of the inheritance every time it was required, and the divorce about a year after we separated was quite amicable.” Cath turned to leer at the kneeling sissy slave’s back. “But enough about that till later, Isabell. Right now you need to learn how bad little baby girls like mine should be punished.” She gave Pansy’s trembling striped cheeks a smart loud backhanded smack with her broad left palm. The plump feminine bottom flesh quivered with the impact.

“Here, Isabell, let me show you how it’s done,” she advised her worried-looking sister, as a large red handprint appeared on the sissy’s creamy left buttock, overlaying the cruel crimson welts from the crop. Mummy responded by taking another huge swig of her drink and watching Aunty Cath with wide eyes. “Stand to your kneeling slave’s left if you are right-handed - like us - and line up the end of your chosen implement with the crease of your subject’s buttocks.” She crisply tapped the flap at the end of the pink nylon-wrapped, willow crop across his out-thrust posterior. The hot-pink leather tip kissed the gap between the sissy’s trembling cheeks. “That way when you swing hard and naturally lean forward slightly…” Slash! WHICK! “You’ll strike both cheeks. See?”

The shivering sissy’s frilly pink bonnet reared up sharply and I could hear air being noisily sucked back through her nostrils. Although I couldn’t see the expression on her pained face, I knew the blow must have hurt. Her wide white lace bonnet frills trembled with shock, but there was no shriek of agony to mar the quiet suburban afternoon. Only the sounds of happily squealing little girls drifted over from the house behind ours, in counterpoint to the incredibly erotic scene before my eyes. Pansy’s quivering bottom cheeks bore a fresh angry red stripe on each side that looked awfully painful, but she kept her curvy round posterior defiantly presented, poking her big round bottom right out for her ex-wife’s sadistic attention. WHICK! WHICK! WHICK! Cath turned around smiling grimly in satisfaction, and then handed the crop to her uncertain-looking sister. “Here, Isabell. You have a go.”

“Are you sure?” Mummy nervously asked, but she placed her clattering glass on the varnished pine coffee table and clambered to her booted feet. Cath simply pressed the leather handle of the pink crop into Isabell’s right hand and guided her into position. “But I-”
“She lied to you,” Cath forcibly reminded Isabell. Cath held her sister’s right arm in position, helpfully centring the hot-pink leather flap between the crease of the shivering sissy’s creamy buttocks. She released her grip and cautiously stepped back out of range, adding, “My naughty sissy baby tricked you into having sex with her.”
“Yes, that’s right,” Mummy mumbled uncertainly, but her arm moved back as though preparing to strike.

Cath’s expression was a curious mixture of anticipation and arousal. “Go on, Isy! She deserves to be punished!” My domineering Aunty actually looked turned-on by all this. I knew my clittie was rock-hard inside my warm wet nappy and I discretely clutched myself tighter through the slippery lycra crotch of my pink leotard below the frothy tulle skirts. “Go on, Isy!” Cath sternly ordered. “Punish her! Punish that naughty little sissy slut.” WHICK! The crop whistled down and a fresh red slice appeared on the sissy’s quivering botty cheeks, although it was much lighter and narrower than the previous welts. “Again!” Cath forcefully commanded. WHICK! “Harder!” WHICK! More!” WHICK! “She’s a dirty lying little slut who needs to be punished!” WHICK! WHICK! “That’s it.” WHICK! WHICK! WHICK! “Beat that bad baby’s butt,” Cath urged her dazed kid sister, her emerald eyes glowing with vengeful satisfaction. “Give her what she deserves. Give it to her good!” WHICK! WHICK! WHICK! WHICK! WHICK!

Mummy must have laid at least twenty strokes on the shivering sissy’s bouncing buttocks before she burst into tears and threw the crop to the floor in self-disgust. Cath wrapped her arms around the sobbing woman’s leather-clad torso and murmured soothingly in her ear. “It’s okay, sis. It’s okay. You did the right thing, Isy. She was very naughty and my wicked Pansy deserved a good sound thrashing. Now you sit down here and finish your drink while I finish the job.” We ducked out of sight when Aunty Cath led Mummy back to the yellow chair in front of our viewing window. When Mummy was settled into the single overstuffed armchair, facing the dining room with her back to us, Bonnie and I cautiously peeped inside again.

Cath had returned to the scene of the crime and picked up the discarded pink riding crop, holding it above her head. She flexed the pliable willow rod inside the shiny nylon wrapping between her clenched fists to test its suppleness, and then gave the leather tip a few noisy practise swings. The menacing swishing sound made goosebumps rise on my arms and legs. I glanced at Bonnie skulking beside me and wondered if she was aware that she was pressing the crotch of her warm wet nappy against her puffy swollen kitten with the heel of her right hand.

Cath settled her booted feet wide apart and lined up her shot like a professional golfer addressing the ball, taking her time to position herself perfectly. She leaned her broad bare shoulders back and crisply tapped the blazing red, curvy round buttock closest to her with the little leather flap. She loudly ordered, “Present, Baby Pansy! Stick that naughty little botty right out for Mummy.” The taps on the cheek grew harder, louder and faster, as the bound sissy slut provocatively poked out her multi-striped bottom even more. “That’s better, little girl,” Cath murmured in sadistic approval. “Stick out that pretty bot-bot just a little more, baby.” She swung her strong right arm all the way back, steadied her wide-legged stance, and then; CRACK!

The kneeling sissy baby jumped at the force of the blow, her bonneted head rearing back in agony as air noisily whistled in through her flared nostrils. Her mittened hands flailed in front of her flushed red face before they returned to rest on the wooden back of the dining chair. “Ah yes, that’s better,” Cath announced with a grim satisfied smile. “Mummy knows how to punish bad little girls like you properly, doesn’t she? Hmm, baby?” Of course with the pump-up gag filling her mouth, the poor bound sissy had no way of replying. He mutely nodded his bowed bonneted head in masochistic acceptance of her will. “Present, baby. Stick out that botty for Mummy. That’s better! I think twenty more like that should do the job. Don’t you?” The shivering sissy poked out his girlish striped bottom once more, but with more reluctance this time.

With those cruel words Aunty set to her task, the pink riding crop lashing the bouncing welted buttocks of the grunting and gurgling sissy slave unendingly. CRACK! “Bad Baby Pansy!” CRACK! “Bad girl!” Cath yelled, chastising her bound victim between full-armed strokes of the riding crop. CRACK! “You’re a dirty, deceitful, bad baby girl!” CRACK! “Lying to Mummy!” CRACK! “Trying to hide the truth.” CRACK! “Hoping it would never come out!” CRACK! “What a stupid - CRACK! - stupid - CRACK! - baby!” CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! “Mummy always knows, doesn’t she?” CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! I didn’t count the vicious slashing blows, but I was sure my strict avenging Aunty had delivered exactly twenty strokes when she cast the savage punishment implement aside on the carpet.

The kneeling sissy was sobbing in pain, snorting for air through her flared nostrils, her narrow satin-clad shoulders rising and falling sharply. Only muffled whimpering could be detected from around her mouth-filling rubber gag. I only had eyes for my Aunty Cath. The flushed-face dominatrix was facing away from us, leaning over the hot-pink overnight bag and poking out her big round bottom towards us, carelessly showing off the tautly-stretched seat of her tight red satin panties. My wide eyes were locked on the moist dark gusset between her long booted legs, but then she took from the bag what looked like an enormous hot-pink rubber penis! ‘Do all Baby Pansy’s accessories match?’ I thought with a foolish twinge of envy.

The latex tool was about twelve inches long and from my perch outside the window, it looked almost as thick as David’s huge piece of man-meat! I heard Bonnie quietly gasp from beside me. Cath had a tube of lubricant, too, and she squirted a little clear gel on the fat floppy tool and erotically rubbed it over the latex shaft with her curled fist, like she was giving the monster hot-pink cock a hand-job. The image reminded me of my erotic scene in my crib with Connie last night. I wished I could slip my hand inside my too-tight leotard and wet nappies, and fondle my pulsating hot clittie.

Cath placed the glistening floppy tool on the open dry diaper between her sissy’s forcibly-splayed knees, and returned to the hot-pink overnight bag. She took out a grey hand towel first and wiped her hands clean, tossed it aside, and picked up the gag pump. The dominatrix in black leather stepped around to the front of the kneeling sissy and lifted his bowed head to screw the fitting into the pink leather mouthpiece. With a quiet gush of air the black rubber gag deflated, and then Cath unbuckled the tight leather bonnet and slid the frilly pink item from her whimpering slave’s curly blonde hair. The slimy gag popped free of Pansy’s drool-smeared lips with a wet sucking sound, and then the grateful sobbing sissy inhaled sharply and burst into a snivelling litany of thanks.

“Oh thank you Mummy! Thank you,” Pansy sobbed, reaching up to clumsily wipe her drooling mouth and her panda eyes with her fluttering mittened paws. “I’m sorry I was such a bad girl, Mummy. I’m sorry, Mummy, I’m sorry. I’m a bad baby girl, Mummy. I’m sorry.”
“I know, baby. I know. Mummy knows you’re sorry.” Cath tossed his leather bonnet aside and picked up the floppy latex dildo, and she pressed the slick golfball-sized head between her kneeling sissy’s shivering parted buttocks. “But you know the rules, baby girl. First comes the punishment - then comes the pleasure.” The penitent sissy seemed to poke out her blazing red-striped bottom even more, and she shuddered and moaned in arousal when the fat cock-head slipped inside her greedily dilated sphincter.

“Ooo Mummy!” Pansy squealed, and her high-pitched moans of passion escalated when Cath shoved the huge monster a few inches further inside her sissy’s bobbing bottom. “Oh Mama! Mama! Mama!” From her armchair my Mummy watched the erotic scene unfolding in front of her with wide fascinated eyes, her drink temporarily forgotten in her hand.
“Open up, baby,” Cath urged her sissy slut, worming the fat tool ever deeper. “Open right up for Mummy like a good little girl… Ahhh!” She grunted in satisfaction when the flexible dildo head slid past the poor girl’s second sphincter, and she wormed the hot-pink tool at least eight inches inside the moaning sissy’s steaming bowels.

“Good girl! Mummy needs to make sure her little girl is still nice and clean all the way inside.” Cath rammed most of the long pink tool in and out of the sissy’s puckered anus like she was fucking him with a big fat cock. I didn’t know she was actually preparing him for the main event. The sissy boy began yelping in excitement, although he groaned loudly in disappointment when Cath slid the monster tool all the way out.

“Oh Mummy! No Mummy! Please Mummy?” He begged in high girlish squeals. I concentrated on listening to that strangely-familiar high-pitched pleading voice, which is probably why I missed the sound of a car pulling up in our driveway.
“Settle down, baby,” Cath sharply warned him, with an additional hard, open-handed spank to his badly-mauled buttocks. “Or Mummy will put the bad baby bonnet back on her noisy little girl.” The mere threat of the gag shut him up immediately. He provocatively stuck out his crimson-striped candy-red bottom, his plump womanly cheeks parting sluttishly wide to display his winking wet, wrinkled pink hole. I knew the sissy baby was silently begging for more and his fervent prayers were about to be answered.

My Mummy was leaning back in her yellow armchair, her olive-green eyes wide as uncovered manholes, her mouth a gaping red-rimmed circle of amazement. She watched in slack-jawed astonishment as her sister casually wiped the lube from the used tool with a baby wipe. Cath discarded both items in the open plastic shopping bag lying on the floor. “Good. You’re still clean,” she muttered in approval to her panting sissy slave. My brunette Aunty approached her stunned kid sister and held out her hands. “Come here, sis. I need you to help me with this last part.” She hauled Isabell to her feet and led my Mummy like a zombie back to the hot-pink leather overnight bag. Aunty took out another latex dildo. This fatter flesh-coloured tool had a series of black leather straps dangling from it, and Cath pressed the base to her sister’s groin so it stuck out stiffly like a real cock. “Hold that there for me for a minute,” she briskly ordered, and my mother numbly obeyed.

Isabell clutched the black upside-down leather triangle over her groin with both hands, and the fat phoney phallus poked out obscenely through her fingers like a huge flesh-coloured salami. She swayed and wobbled unsteadily on her pencil-thin heels when Cath threaded the wide black waist straps around her corseted waist and buckled them tightly in place. “Spread your feet and open your legs, Isy,” she commanded from the rear. When Mummy obligingly spread her booted thighs wide and squatted slightly, Cath crouched down and plucked at the two slender leather straps dangling from the apex of the leather triangle in front. She drew each narrow strap around Mummy’s muscular tanned thighs above the boot flaps, looped it through a metal ring in the waist strap at each side of her wide womanly hips, and pulled it tight. The straps had some chromed snap-fasteners riveted in place to secure them, and they made a loud noise when my Aunty snapped them closed. She tugged on the tight waistband of the cock-harness to make sure it was well secured, and then stepped around to Mummy’s front.

Cath grabbed hold of the obscene, flesh-coloured latex tool, and dragged it down and centred it over Mummy’s crotch so it looked like a huge stiff cock poking out horizontally from her body. I couldn’t believe how realistic the thing looked, jutting out from her groin like that! I reached under my frothy tulle skirts and clutched my own tiny stiff clittie through my warm wet wadding, and rubbed my hand up and down over the slithering lycra crotch of my leotard in mounting excitement. I didn’t realise that beside me, Bonnie was unconsciously pressing her fist harder against the crotch of her warm wet nappy, too. “Good,” Cath muttered in approval, and she gave the monster tool a careless hard slap with her hand that would have been excruciating had it been real. Isabell gazed down in disbelief at the heavy projection rudely bobbing from her groin, and she noticed the shiny shaft was fatter than her wrist!

“Now help me put my glove on.” Cath produced a long red latex glove from her bag of tricks. Mummy seemed to be in a trance as she obediently held the end open for Aunty Cath to feed her large right hand inside. “That’s it, honey,” Cath encouraged her sister. “Hold tight while I wiggle my fingers all the way in. There! Now roll the end up my arm. That’s it, Isy, keep unrolling. They go quite a long way.” When Mummy finished, Aunty Cath’s muscular right arm was covered in a skin-tight sheath of shiny red latex, all the way past her elbow. “I only need one glove today,” Cath added, when Mummy instinctively looked for its missing mate.

Cath stepped over to the overnight bag and pulled out the tube of lube again, and she squirted a generous dollop on her gloved palm. After tossing the crumpled tube to the floor, she turned to the kneeling sissy slave and fondly probed between his bruised parted buttocks. Pansy groaned in excitement and pushed backwards, her mauled botty-cheeks opening wider, greedily exposing her greasy dilated hole for her Mistress’s slippery red fingers. Cath obliged by sliding four latex-covered fingers straight inside his relaxed open anal ring, shoving them in till the wanton sissy-slut swallowed her whole hand all the way to the base of her thumb. She whirled her broad open palm around inside her slave’s sloshing wet opening, leering back at her stunned sister as the bound sissy baby helplessly moaned in excitement and then squealed loudly in unrestrained joy.

The sissy-slut’s gratified groans were abruptly cut short when Cath ripped her hand free, her red gloved fingers glistening wetly with lube. Cath gave Mummy a lascivious smile, rubbing her slimy lubricated fingers across her shiny red palm. She stepped closer to her gob-smacked sister who stood there wobbling in her exotic high-heeled boots. Cath grabbed hold of Mummy’s enormous life-like erection with her gloved fist. She expertly masturbated her sister’s flesh-coloured member until every inch of the fat fake phallus was shiny and wet with lube. Despite being ridiculously large, it looked so frighteningly real! Cath stepped around behind Isabell, never releasing her erotic grip on the glistening shaft, and she pressed her crotch against Mummy’s leather-clad bottom. Aunty used her broad hips to steer my mother’s slimy jutting tool towards the blazing out-thrust buttocks of the kneeling sissy baby on the dining room chair.

“Baby Pansy fucked you, Isy. And I mean, really fucked you! Now it’s your turn,” Cath convincingly coaxed Mummy into position, using her lush body to edge her mesmerised sister closer and closer to her waiting target. “This is your chance to get even!” Mummy moaned loudly in submission as Cath used her fist to aim the huge head of the strap-on dildo at the winking back door of her eagerly-waiting sissy slut. The greasy head was almost the size of a baseball, and the glistening latex shaft grew fatter as it approached the harness base. Bonnie and I were watching with entranced eyes, our boggled minds overwhelmed - and neither of us heard the slamming of a car door in the driveway out the front. With one expert thrust of Cath’s pelvis against Mummy’s trembling botty-cheeks, the latex cock-head popped inside her sissy slave’s wet open hole. The kneeling Princess in pink satin tossed back her mane of curly blonde hair and shrieked with combined excitement and pain as the huge cock-head stretched her well-used sphincter wide.

Cath moved my limp mother like a lifeless marionette, repeatedly thrusting her pelvis against Mummy’s big round bottom in an obscene mimicry of sex, while the huge fake phallus drove deeper and deeper into her sissy slut’s wide-open hole. But after a while I noticed Aunty was leaning back, and Mummy’s grinding hips seemed to be driving the eternal erotic rhythm. Cath tilted her round curvaceous bum back further and leaned down so her luscious red lips brushed my mother’s flushed pink cheek. “Oh Isy,” Cath whispered in Isabell’s ear with a knowing grin. “I guess you found the little nub that’s made to tickle your clit, too. Huh?” She teasingly bit her sister on the earlobe until Mummy squealed and shuddered. Cath’s laugh was evil as she slowly backed away.

My mother’s only response was to grab the writhing hips of the kneeling sissy baby and shove her monster cock more purposefully inside the slave’s bucking bottom, making Pansy squeal in high-pitched pleasure. Isabell drove deeper and clamped their bodies together so the soft latex nub on the inside of the cock harness parted her sensitive swollen labia, massaging her aroused clittie through her tight black satin panties like a firm little tongue. She rocked back slightly and thrust deeply once more, pressing her throbbing clit against the slippery front of her slick wet panties, right over the latex stimulator. Isabelle couldn’t believe how wet she was or how aroused the erotic scene made her feel! Her kitten was dripping with excitement and she could smell the musk of her aroused sex. She felt so dominant and powerful as she forced her huge pretend-cock deep inside the shivering slut’s wide-open arsehole.

“Oh yeah, darling, you got it,” Cath crooned to her in encouragement. “You go girl! You fuck that sissy bitch all the way to hell and back.” She chuckled in wicked approval and it was a low dirty sound. “Yeah, that’s right. Fuck her! Yeah! That’s what I’m talkin’ about, sister!” She walked around the madly-fucking couple and bent down closer to her kneeling sissy baby’s ear. “Go, on, baby!” Cath cooed invitingly, making sure that Isabell could hear her. We could all hear her order the groaning big baby, “Tell Mummy what you really want, while your Aunty Isy fucks you with her great, big, cock! Go on! Tell us what you really want deep down, Baby Pansy!” Cath urged the grunting red-faced sissy, as her sister plunged her rigid ten-inch member ever deeper inside his steaming bowels. “Tell Mummy and your Aunty Isabell what you’ve always wanted,” she crooned in loving maternal tones.

The kneeling sissy baby drew in a deep shuddering breath. “Oh Mummy! Mummy!” Pansy squealed, trembling on the verge of climax. The fat base of the latex tool was so firm, so thick, and the massive girth stretched his naughty hole so wide! “I wanna be a widdle girl!” He wailed in a high-pitched, girlish squeal, “I wanna be a widdle baby girl forever! Oh! Oh! Oh Mummy! Mumma! Mama! Mama!” Cath glanced back up at her stunned sister in time to catch Isabell before she collapsed over Pansy’s petticoat-strewn back. Mummy covered her gaping mouth with one hand, her expression suddenly horrified. Only the stiff boning of her tight black leather corset and her sister’s hands kept her upright.

My Aunty smiled in heartless satisfaction as she steadied her stunned sister, and then she turned back to address her sissy baby slave. “Make your baby noises for me, darling,” she tenderly instructed the writhing impaled sissy.
“Ma-ma! Ma-ma! Ga-ga!” He gratefully gasped, and the bad baby juice simultaneously began to squirt out of his stiff twitching tool without anyone even touching it. “Ga-ga goo-goo-goo!” He mindlessly babbled, exploding into the adult disposable diaper his thoughtful ex-wife had carefully left open under his groin in readiness.

I rubbed my throbbing stiff clittie through my leotard and baby panties, and the warm wet nappy front scraped softly over the sensitive underside of my twitching little tool. I knew I was close to climaxing myself, and I bit harder on my dummy-teat as I helplessly gurgled in quiet undertones, “Ga-ga! Ga-ga goo-goo! Ga-ga goo-goo ga-ga-ga!” As I babbled my baby noises I exploded inside my warm wet nappies, and I didn’t even notice when Bonnie quietly shuddered to a climax right beside me. I clutched the window sill with my left hand in an effort to stop collapsing backwards when my knees helplessly buckled. My little legs trembled violently with reaction. If I could have wedged them closer together, my knees would have knocked so loudly, the women inside might have heard them. Fortunately the wide wet crotch my warm fluffy nappy was too thick to allow that to happen.

Mummy seemed to be moving in a trance as she mechanically thrust her long rubber cock in and out of the babbling baby’s twitching bottom, literally pumping the bad baby juice out of him. “That’s it, Baby Pansy! Go on! Babble like the hopeless little baby girl you really are!” Cath tenderly commanded her exploding sissy baby, but her calculating emerald eyes remained locked on Isabell’s face.
“Ga-ga goo! Ga-ga-goo!” he squealed incoherently between panting gasps for air.
“That’s it! Good girl! What a good baby girl,” Aunty Cath effusively praised him as he violently shuddered to completion.
“Ga-ga-ga-ga-goo! Goo-goo!” With all the noise they were making, no wonder no one heard the front door being unlocked and opened.

“That’s my good little baby girl!” Cath crooned in honeyed baby tones. “Push out all the nasty squirties into your diaper like a good little baby girl for Mummy.” She stepped behind her sister and slammed her pubic bone against Isy’s trembling buttocks one last time, keeping the huge latex tool crammed all the way inside of her shuddering slave’s twitching hole for a few more seconds. Pansy squealed like an excited little girl again, and then Cath slowly leaned back and stepped away to the side, her smile victorious.

Mummy’s hips reluctantly separated from the panting sissy’s sweaty moist bumcheeks with an naughty wet sucking sound. Cath glanced down to inspect the fat pink tool when she slowly withdrew it. “Good girl!” Aunty Cath praised her breathless trembling sissy baby, patting her bowed head condescendingly. “You’re still nice and clean inside after Mummy cleaned you out, baby girl. Good Baby Pansy! Not a trace of poop,” Cath proudly declared, but she crouched down and wiped the greasy length of Mummy’s jutting cock with a moist baby wipe, anyway. Before she could unbuckle the harness straps from around her stunned sister’s thighs and waist, Isabell pushed her away, reeling back in horror.

Cath rose to her full height to confront my mother once more. Mummy collapsed back into the overstuffed armchair right in front of Bonnie and me, looking completely stunned. “Did you tell her to say that?” Mummy demanded, although her voice was so faint, I could barely hear her.
“No, honey,” Cath replied, sounding strangely sympathetic despite her triumphant expression. “That’s what Baby Pansy always says - right before she cums.”
“Just like my-”
“Yes,” Cath cut off her sister’s quavering voice, “just like your sissy Baby Jennie.” I couldn’t understand the pained look of horror on Mummy’s pale face when she turned away from her big sister.

Cath stepped over to her kneeling baby and effortlessly shoved her four gloved fingers back inside the shivering sissy’s abused anus, making her sissy-slut shriek like an over-excited toddler again. “Ooo Mummy!” My Mummy seemed to be in a trance. She sat there in a daze, watching open-mouthed while Cath forced her whole hand inside the twitching sissy’s greasy opening, all the way to the base of her thumb. Pansy squealed excitedly, “Mama! Mama!” Cath rotated her latex-covered hand inside the slippery writhing hole, making sure all sides were well coated with lube, and then curled her fingers in towards each other, cupping her palm and tucking the tip of her thumb inside her sissy slave’s well-used arsehole. “Ooo Mama!” Pansy’s unmistakable groans of pleasure simply grew louder and higher.

“Open up, Baby Pansy! Open right up for Mummy!” As if by magic his wrinkled pink hole obediently dilated on command. Her whole hand disappeared inside his twitching bowels, all the way to her gloved wrist. He squealed loudly in pleasure/pain as his tortured sphincter gratefully clamped around her narrower wrist, but I felt sure it was definitely an excited cry of passion this time. My Aunty curled and uncurled her gloved fingers inside his teeming bowels, opening him up inside too, and then her probing fingertips moved left to locate the second sphincter.

“Ahhh!” Cath grunted in satisfaction as her wiggling digits expertly penetrated the inner hole, teasing it open until she could fit her bunched fingertips all the way inside her baby’s well-used colon. Then she began to slowly fist-fuck him, making the poor baby squeal in masochistic pleasure. Cath turned back to look at Mummy while she twisted her wrist around inside of his twitching anus, as if blindly searching for something. She forced half of her thick muscular right forearm inside the sissy girl’s shivering bottom before she murmured, “Watch this, Isy. Of course she hasn’t got any sperm - you need testicles for that, after all. But I can still milk my sissy baby’s prostate…”

Pansy threw back her curly blonde locks and squealed girlishly. “Ma-ma! Ma-ma! I wanna be your baby, Mama! I wanna be your widdle baby girl forever! Ga-ga-goo-goo ga! Ga-ga!” Pansy babbled like an incoherent toddler as more baby juice seemed to squirt out of her stiff clittie in long pulsating bursts. Cath kept her gloved forearm inside him, buried halfway to the elbow while she observed Mummy’s reaction. I watched in shock as a sticky wet puddle of cum grew in the crotch of Pansy’s formerly clean dry diaper. “Oh Mama! I wanna be a baby girl! Me bubba! Me bubba! Ga-ga-goo-goo ga!” Pansy plaintively whimpered, shaking and shuddering uncontrollably as her Mummy milked her of bad baby juice, the clear fluid helplessly spurting out every time Aunty Cath hit her G-spot deep inside.

My Mummy shook her head and turned her worried face away in denial. “No, no,” she muttered, and her blanched features turned a lighter shade of pale. “It can’t be!”
“It can be - and it is!” Cath firmly declared, callously ripping her latex covered arm from her sissy’s gaping arsehole. When her clenched red fist popped free, it made a loud sound like a plug being pulled from a half-filled bathtub. The poor sissy shrieked at the unnecessary cruelty. Pansy turned to glance back reproachfully over her shoulder at her hard-hearted Mistress as my father stepped into sight in the hallway at the other end of the dining room. I could see him lurking outside the dining room doorway clutching his bags, his red face glowing with anger. My blue eyes widened in shock and I heard Bonnie gasp in alarm beside me.

The women in the sunroom saw nothing for the moment. Mummy hesitantly asked Cath, “When did you first suspect-”
“The other day, when I was washing her in the tub, after Baby Jennie wet and pooped her nappies. I jerked her off while I was trying to get the truth out of her, and when I heard your sissy baby squeal those famous words while she climaxed…” Cath let the unfinished sentence hang dangerously in the air while she peeled the mucus-covered red latex glove from her arm, carefully turning it inside-out before she tossed in the shopping bag on the sunroom carpet.

“But still - You can’t be sure-” Mummy weakly objected, before her sister brutally cut her off.
“I took some hair samples from your sissy baby last week, and sent them to one of the pathology labs our legal firm uses - along with some of my ex-husband’s hair.” Cath shook her head in denial at my mother’s protests, but her expression was sympathetic. “It’s a perfect genetic match, Isy. You are going to have to accept it. Your Baby Jennie is my sissy Baby Pansy’s son!”

“What the fuck!” My father screamed from where he had been listening in the doorway. He threw his bags to the floor and dashed to the other end of the dining room towards the surprised women in the sunroom. “What the fuck is going on here?” Mummy cowered away from his righteous anger in fear, but her domineering big sister was not so easily frightened.
“Settle down, Brett,” Cath firmly advised him, throwing up her broad palms to stop him. The huge buxom dominatrix even towered over my tall Daddy in her skyscraper-high black boots. Isabell struggled to her feet in her thigh-high stiletto boots, the glistening flesh-coloured dildo poking out obscenely from her groin. She looked as though she had momentarily forgotten it was there.

“Brett!” Mummy cried in distress, “It’s not what it looks-”
“Shut up!” He roared at Mummy, as he roughly pushed Cath aside. “Get out of my way, you bitch! Just because you gave us half the deposit for this house, doesn’t mean you own the place!” My Aunty stumbled backwards on her towering high heels, falling against her kneeling bound sissy on the chair, but she swiftly regained her balance.
“Brett! Wait!” Mummy pleaded, before he froze her with a withering glare.

“My God! What are you wearing? What is that thing strapped to your…” His mouth fell open in shock at the frighteningly huge dildo bobbing obscenely from Mummy’s groin. He turned around and inspected the striped red bottom of the kneeling sissy, and saw a stream of lube leaking like cum from her dilated, pulsating pink rosebud, dripping onto the open diaper between her shackled legs. “Jesus Christ!” He turned back to his wife, his blue eyes wide with horror and disbelief. “You were fucking her, weren’t you?” He reached over and grabbed Pansy by one skinny bicep, and roughly dragged the bound sissy-slave to her hobbled feet.

When Daddy saw the sullied diaper on the chair seat, and the raging erection poking out from under the cringing sissy’s pink frock and petties, he cried like a wounded animal. “Oh no! It’s worse than I thought!” He shoved the hobbled sissy away so hard, Pansy fell backwards onto the sunroom carpet, her skirts and petties flying up over her tummy, her stiff red clittie bobbing in the air.
“Get away from her!” Cath screamed from the dining room. “Leave my husband alone!” Brett paused to stare back at his sister-in-law in confusion, but then disgust and anger filled his darkening face.
“Your husband?” He turned back to the cowering sissy on the floor, grabbed the front of her hot-pink leather toddler harness with his large left hand, and menacingly raised his clenched right fist. Pansy’s tear-filled blue eyes were wide with terror, and her pink leather mittens flailed uselessly at Brett’s hand on her harness.

I jumped down from my perch and clumsily waddled around to the veranda steps in a stumbling, toddler-like run. I had to take the wooden steps one at a time like a real toddler, due to the fluffy moist mass impeding my progress, and I urgently scurried towards the back door. “No, Baby Jennie! No!” Bonnie called out in desperation from behind me, trying to keep her voice low. I clumsily fell to my knees on the coarse varnished timber, the bulky wet nappies a huge obstruction between my splayed thighs. I scrambled to my feet when I heard my cousin pursuing me. I ripped open the screen door, flung open the back door, and slammed everything closed behind me as I fell inside the kitchen. I shuffled across the linoleum tiles towards the sunroom on my hands and knees like the big baby I was, babbling mindlessly in fear. “No Dada! No Dada! Ma-ma! Da-da! Ma-ma!”

“Leave her alone!” Cath stridently ordered my father, but Brett needed to lash out. He ignored her harsh warning, and leaned down to punch the cowering sissy in the mouth. The frightened feminine face staring up at him made my father instinctively open his fist at the last moment, but he slapped the surgically-enhanced beauty across the face with the full strength of his powerful right arm. The loud blow snapped Pansy’s head back and her pink left cheek suffused with blood. Cath stepped behind the crouching man and lined up her boot.

“You fucking pervert!” Brett screamed at the stunned sissy-slave. Pansy’s head reeled and her big blue eyes rolled back in her head. “You and your fucking kinky wife have ruined my- Oomph!” When the instep of Cath’s patent leather boot struck him in the testicles, it was at the end of a long powerful arc, with the full strength of a strong, five-foot eleven, thirty-nine-year-old, long-legged exercise fanatic behind the blow. All the air exploded from his lungs as Brett went flying straight over the cowering sissy baby, to land face-first on the dining room carpet.

“Get out!” Cath yelled at him, as he lay there desperately trying to refill his lungs. “You stupid impotent fool! Get out of here!” She stepped over her stunned Pansy lying on the carpet, and Brett rolled away from her onto his back, clutching his bruised nuts before she could kick him again. She lashed out threateningly with the pointy toe of one thigh-high boot anyway, and he whimpered in fear as he scrambled backwards towards the door to the hallway. Pansy slowly rolled onto her front and shakily tried to clamber onto her hands and knees, clumsy because of her bound mittened fists and the restrictive hobble chain. That was when my Mummy noticed me.

“Oh no!” She cried in alarm, staggering in shock. “It’s Baby Jennie!” The adults in the room all froze when I crawled past Mummy into the dining room, crying my eyes out and babbling like an incomprehensible eighteen-month old infant.
“Da-da! Ma-Ma! Waah! Ma-ma da-da don’t- don- do- Waah!” I wailed incoherently, unable to get the words out past my dum-dums for once. “Waaahhhh!” All eyes were locked on me, and every face reflected the confused state of their emotions.

“Holy shit!” Daddy grunted as he stumbled to his feet, although he remained in a defensive crouch, with one hand hovering near his damaged balls. He backed into the hallway, glaring at Cath and Mummy. He drew in a deep shuddering breath before he yelled, “You sick fucks! Look what you’ve done to him! Look what you’ve done to my son! You crazy bitches!”
Cath rearranged her massive bosoms inside the stiff cups of her black leather bra, tucking in the erect russet nipples which had momentarily managed to spring free. “He’s not your son, you stupid arsehole! Shut the fuck up and get out of here!” She snarled in reply, moving threateningly towards him.

Daddy backed away from her towards the front door. He turned to glance at me on my hands and knees, my make-up a mess, crawling towards him in my frothy pink tutu and bawling like a big diapered sissy baby. His pained expression was torn between contempt and anguish. “Jeremy?” he called out to me, as he picked up his fallen suitcase and laptop. “If you ever hope to grow up to be a man, you’ll come with me now and live with me.”
“Get out!” Cath screamed at him. She leaned down and grabbed me around the waist, halting my infantile progress towards my Daddy. Mummy collapsed back in her yellow armchair in the sunroom, covering her face with her hands and sobbing mightily.
“I’ll be in contact,” he called to me. Then he glared at Cath, and his face was black with anger. “Fuck you, bitch, and your fucking sister, too! Fuck the both of you!” He slammed the front door so violently, it shook the whole house.

“Not in this lifetime, Brett,” Cath softly replied after he disappeared from sight. She settled her overflowing bosoms in place with an emphatic wobble of her broad shoulders. When a white-faced Bonnie came trundling into the sunroom from the kitchen, she stopped to stare down at her kneeling father in the pink dress and petties. His swollen erection was still on display, and with his mittened fists still shackled to his toddler harness, he had no way of covering his shameful tumescence. Aunty Cath released her grip on my waist and muttered, “Oh shit! Now the cat really is out of the bag!” She ignored her stunned teenage daughter and her horrified ex-husband for the moment. She stepped over to where Mummy was sitting in the sunroom, covering her face with her hands and crying her eyes out.

“Stand up, Isabell,” Cath briskly commanded, grabbing her wrists and dragging the desolate blonde to her feet. She turned Mummy around and swiftly unfastened the black leather cock-harness from around her thighs and waist, and she tried to be discrete when she threw the stiff fake phallus in the plastic shopping bag on the floor. She didn’t realise it was a waste of time. We’d already seen and heard everything. She gathered up any other evidence strewn on the carpet and tossed anything incriminating in the hot-pink overnight bag.

I crawled over to Mummy’s feet, staring up at her long booted legs, all the way to her moist black satin panty crotch. My nose was only a few inches from he steamy kitten, and I could smell the familiar musk of her feminine arousal. “Ma-ma? Ma-ma!” I plaintively cried. Even though she reached down to absent-mindedly fondle my bobbing platinum curls, she didn’t seem to see me when I forlornly gazed up into her vacant olive-green eyes. But then she leaned over my kneeling form and I felt her automatically slipping one finger inside the leg band of my baby panties to check my nappy.

“Is it true?” Bonnie was standing in front of the kneeling bound sissy, staring down into his blushing red face. She reached out and took hold of the shiny metal tag hanging from the battered sissy’s pink leather collar. She had to lean down to examine the humiliated sissy’s nametag, and her expression remained blank when she read the words ‘Baby Pansy’ engraved in the shiny heart-shaped disc. Bonnie turned it over, and she had to lean closer to read the tiny engraving. ‘Property of Mistress Cath.’ Below that she recognised her mother’s mobile phone number.

Pansy looked like she wanted to be somewhere - anywhere else! Her wide blues were filled to overflowing with tears, her high round cheeks flushed red with shame. Pansy shook her petite frame in a futile attempt to make her bobbing dress and petties cover her dripping stiff clittie. Even though my cousin was staring at the embarrassed sissy baby’s red, tear-streaked cheeks, her question was obviously directed at her mother. Bonnie softly demanded again, “Is it true?”

Cath looked momentarily confused as she tried to straighten her too-short leather skirt, and then she placed her curled fists on her wide womanly hips. “Is what true, darling?” She made her tone light and inquiring, as if nothing was out of the ordinary.
Bonnie grabbed hold of the kneeling sissy’s pink satin dress and chiffon petties. She raised them up to his shackled hot-pink baby mittens, holding the frothy layers against his revealing bejewelled pink toddler harness till his jutting erection prominently protruded. “Is it true that this… Baby Pansy is my father?”

For the first time Cath looked seriously worried. She demanded, “How much did you hear? Where were you listening from?” She glanced in regret at the many open windows overlooking the sunroom and dining room. “What did you see-”
Bonnie dropped the blushing sissy’s skirts and petties and snarled, “Just answer the question, mother!” I recognised that commanding tone of authority and apparently, so did Aunty Cath. Her high stiff brunette bun reared in annoyance.

“Don’t you dare speak to me that tone, young lady! I’ve a good mind to- to- to-” Bonnie fixed her mother with a gaze so terrible, Cath actually stuttered to a stop. My Aunty’s cheeks were flushed red and her emerald green eyes glittered dangerously, but then her face dropped in shame.

“I’m going to ask you one last time,” Bonnie growled, her golden irises afire, “before I march out that door and you never see me again. Is - this - my - FATHER!” She screamed the last word so loudly, everyone cowered back in shock, especially the blushing sissy baby kneeling at her feet.
“No need to yell, Bonnie,” Cath gently rebuked her enraged daughter. “We can all hear you.” She sighed and wilted under the pressure of Bonnie’s intense golden orbs. “Alright. Stop looking at me like that! Yes, she’s your father.”
“And Baby Jennie’s father, too?” Bonnie demanded in a low pained voice. She looked like a balloon slowly deflating, and the fire in her eyes died.
“Oh my! You really did hear everything, didn’t you? Yes, that’s right, Bonnie. Baby Pansy is Baby Jennie’s father, too. I guess that makes her your half-sister.” I looked up at my horrified cousin in stunned surprise, and Bonnie was slowly shaking her head in disbelief. She looked like her whole world was crumbling around her.

Pansy stared at me with wide blue eyes, looking like she’s just won the lottery. “Baby Jennie?” I looked up at the kneeling sissy’s tear-streaked face through a haze of my own tears. “Are you really a boy?” When I numbly nodded, Pansy squealed in apparent delight. She sounded exactly like an excited little girl, and her mittened fists waggled enthusiastically. “Oh my God! You’re beautiful!” She turned to Cath and demanded, “What is she, Mummy? Twelve or thirteen?”
“Yes Baby Pansy,” Cath replied in a dull monotone, as she tried to comfort her distraught sister. “Baby Jennie is thirteen years and two months old exactly - if you’re too stupid to do the math yourself. And obviously you are. Thirteen years and eleven months - that’s how long it is since you betrayed me.” Despite the fact that they were legally separated at the time and filing for divorce, Pansy’s pretty face fell at the frosty rebuke. Her Mistress turned away from the kneeling sissy, her tone lightening considerably. “It’s alright, Isy,” Cath soothed my Mummy. “You haven’t yet realised what this all means.”

Mummy wiped her eyes with a soggy tissue and looked up at Cath with an expression devoid of hope. One of her false eyelashes had peeled away from the corner of her left eye, giving her an odd, cast-eyed appearance. My Aunty explained, “You gave birth to one of my husband’s children - which entitles you to half the inheritance due from Pansy’s father for said child.” Cath grinned when she could see the wheels slowly turning behind her stunned sister’s glistening olive-green eyes. “Not only that - there’s a bonus!”
“What?” Mummy demanded, bravely sniffling back her tears.

Cath gleefully explained, “If Pansy produced a male heir to carry on the family name, he received a three million dollar bonus. That makes five million altogether - half of which is yours, as it happens!”
“What?” Mummy demanded again, a hint of excitement creeping into her tremulous voice.
“Oh, it gets better,” Aunty Cath boasted, as I clumsily crawled closer to the beautiful sissy baby who was supposed to be my real father, my stiff tutu skirts noisily scraping across the carpet. She knelt there watching me approach with wide blue eyes and long fluttering black lashes, just like mine. Her hot pink mittens waved uselessly at the front of her toddler harness, like a clumsy toddler waving hello. I tentatively smiled up at her from around the teat of my dum-dums. I couldn’t believe how young and beautiful she looked! “Half that money - two and a half million in total - was supposed to be paid to you within one month of Jeremy’s birth. With compounding interest, as of now, I figure the family trust owes you a little over six million dollars!”

Mummy looked completely flabbergasted, although Baby Pansy was seriously nodding her head in agreement, her curly blonde locks bouncing prettily over her narrow satin-clad shoulders. “If what Mummy - Mistress Cath says is correct, then my family trust owes you and me a considerable fortune.” Pansy added, and she smiled happily. Despite her panda eyes, she looked so beautiful, I could hardly believe she had ever been a male named Peter, or that she was old enough to be my father! “You’ll be able to afford to keep raising this beautiful sissy baby like the pretty little diaper Princess she’s always wanted to be.”

“After your law firm has ascertained Baby Jennie’s true identity and sex, Pansy, and confirmed the DNA tests,” amended his ex-wife in a tart tone. “They’ll want to take tissue samples themselves, and run their own tests. You know your suspicious big sisters. Then your sissy son will need to have his last name legally changed to Jones.”
Like a foolish little girl I immediately thought, ‘Jennie Jones?’ I tried out the sound of my new name in my head. Maybe I would need a full name? ‘Jennifer Kate Jones’ sounded pretty. I almost missed Aunty Cath’s next scary comment.
“Hmm,” Cath pondered aloud. “We’ll have to dress her up as a boy for the meeting with the senior partners - for your older sisters, at least. They make up half the senior partners, after all. Maybe Baby Jennie could wear a cute little sailor suit, with her thickest nappies underneath?”

Pansy delicately shuddered at the thought of confronting his domineering big sisters at the family firm with his pretty diapered sissy son in tow. But the DNA evidence was irrefutable, and they would have to give him - and thereafter Isabell - their share of the money. “And if you couldn’t be bothered diapering her,” Pansy babbled excitedly to Mummy, “you could give Baby Jennie to me and my Nanny to raise. We would look after her properly, and keep her in nappies and sissy baby clothes forever, if that’s what she really wants!”
“Shut up, Baby Pansy!” Aunty Cath harshly commanded, when she saw the look of horror on her sister’s tear-streaked face.
“No, I mean it,” the bound sissy baby foolishly continued. “I could legally adopt Baby Jennie, and my Nanny and I could- umph!” The beautiful sissy baby’s explanation was abruptly cut short when Aunty Cath fitted the snug bad baby bonnet over his curl-covered head once more.

She ruthlessly fed the pump-up gag between her bound sissy’s writhing pink lips and tightly buckled the frill-edged leather bonnet under his bobbing chin. He mumbled unintelligibly in useless protest, his hot-pink mittens flailing fruitlessly over his buxom bosom. With a few quick pumps, Cath inflated the mouth-filling rubber gag, rendering her sissy-slave speechless. She unscrewed the pump connection and tucked in under her armpit, so the gag couldn’t be deflated. With a remorseless grin, she grabbed the back of the sissy baby’s harness and forced the poor kneeling girl to bend forward at the waist, until her bonnet frills and then her pert little nose brushed the carpet and her bare bottom stuck out prominently. Then Cath released her grip, and Pansy had to turn her face to the side to stop her cute little nose from being crushed.

Cath gave the sissy baby’s bruised bumcheeks another couple of hard hand spanks that must have reignited the pain in her badly-striped buttocks. “Bad baby! Bad Baby Pansy!” She turned to face Mummy. “Ignore my stupid big baby girl, please Isy?” Cath apologised to her aghast little sister. “Despite being very bright, she’s a slow learner in so many ways.” Cath stepped over to the side of the dining room nearest the hallway, where Bonnie’s diaper bag sat leaning against the wall. When my Aunty bent over to search inside the pink vinyl-covered baby bag, her red satin-clad bottom poked out temptingly at me, and I wished my bum was as round and feminine as hers. Little did I realise that one day my secret wish would be granted.

Aunty Cath took out a pair of pink terrycloth nappies and arranged them together on the floor beside her kneeling sissy baby. She left his mittens shackled to his toddler harness while he awkwardly wriggled onto his back, his throbbing welted bottom centred over the fluffy mass. In minutes Aunty Cath had her sissy baby cleaned, powdered, and pinned into her fresh nappies, and then some crackling pink baby panties were snapped in place over the top. “There, now my other baby girl is safe,” Cath muttered in satisfaction, before she rose to her feet. “We wouldn’t want her to make a mess on Aunty Isy’s carpet, now would we?” She left her diapered and bound sissy baby lying helpless on his back on the floor, and strode over to the overnight bag once more.

To be continued...
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Baby Jennie

Synopsis. When Aunty Cath learns from her sister that David raped Baby Jennie, she decides to set a trap to catch the sexual predator.

Chapter 41. Truth Will Out

Cath produced a pair of familiar baby-pink leather mittens and turned to her frowning teenage daughter. She ordered the sullen girl to raise the front of her baby-blue frock. My Aunty slipped one finger inside the tight elastic leg band between Bonnie’s legs and probed the crotch of her drooping nappy. Cath grimaced in disgust when she felt the warm wet cloth beneath the thick plastic panties and she chided the poor teenager in condescending baby talk.

“Oh Baby Bonnie! Your nappy is drenched already, little one! Deary me, what a wet baby girl you are!” Her tone and manner indicated she had re-established her dominant maternal role. “Mummy will have to change that nappy soon so my big baby girl doesn’t get a rash. Hands out please, Baby Bonnie.” We all recognised it was an order, not a request. The tall voluptuous brunette hovered over her pigtailed daughter, using her impressive height to intimidate the wet diapered teen. My buxom cousin looked ready to protest, but she wilted under her mother’s unwavering emerald glare. Bonnie passively held up her hands and compliantly curled up her fingers, allowing her mother to slip the restrictive soft leather mittens in place.

When Aunty Cath stood right next to her cowering daughter in her towering black boots, the height difference was amazing! Despite her mammoth bosoms, Bonnie looked like a pre-teen child compared to her tall Amazonian mother in her exotic thigh-high boots. It took less than a minute for Cath to tightly buckle both leather mittens around her daughter’s wrists, and then she walked into the dining room. When she returned, she was holding out my cousin’s stiff white toddler harness, and Cath slipped it over the girl’s bowed head and fed her limp mittened fists through the appropriate loops. She stepped behind her daughter to buckle the leather harness in place about her torso, and when she returned to the front, she gave the wide diamante-encrusted chest strap under my cousin’s lush bosom a hard tug, making sure it was well secured.

Aunty Cath didn’t bother locking the wrist straps of Bonnie’s baby mittens in place. She attached the dangling metal clips to the front D-rings on her harness, below and either side of the buxom brunette’s heaving bosoms. Cath grinned in heartless satisfaction when her stunned daughter tried to tug free her bound arms, before Bonnie quickly realised her struggles were pointless. I noticed my cousin straining to reach across her squashed breasts with both baby-pink mittens, trying to reach the wrist strap on the opposite side to unfasten it. The D-rings either side of her E-cups were set too far apart, and her earnest efforts merely earned her an ‘F’ for failure. “On your knees, Baby Bonnie,” Cath quietly ordered. Her tone of absolute authority made me shudder.

Bonnie looked ready to refuse her mother’s command, but Cath simply grabbed the front of the white leather toddler harness, curling her fingers over the diamante lettering that read, ‘Baby Bonnie.’ She yanked down hard, forcing the wide-eyed teen to her knees. My domineering Aunty stepped behind her and grabbed hold of the back of Bonnie’s harness, and forced the kneeling girl to bend forward at the waist. Bonnie’s bound hands waved uselessly in front of her lush bosom as she was forced to tilt forward, her red blushing face slowly dropping to the carpet as she meekly protested her fate. “No Mummy! Wait! You can’t do this to me!” Bonnie babbled, her voice rising in fear.

“Oh Bonnie! You silly baby girl! I can do anything I want to you,” Cath boasted with frightening certainty. “You disobeyed my strict instructions and returned early from the party with your naughty baby cousin. Mummy is very cranky with you, baby girl!” When Bonnie’s wrinkled nose was buried in the sunroom carpet and her big nappy bottom poked high in the air, Cath released her grip on the back of the white leather harness. She gave Bonnie’s plastic-sheathed padded seat a couple of noisy hard hand spanks. My trapped cousin fruitlessly tried to push herself upright with her bound fists, but while her mother was spanking her, her efforts were futile. Bonnie turned her head to the side facing me, and her huge golden eyes glistened from a combination of frustration and rage.

I watched from my lowly position on all fours as my cruel Aunty rendered Bonnie helpless and crisply spanked her big padded bum. Then Cath’s harsh emerald gaze swept over me. Her red painted lips pursed in a frown and she shook her head in annoyance. I fearfully knelt up when Aunty Cath approached me holding out my baby-pink mittens. I didn’t bother trying to avoid her grasp when she slipped the leather restraints over my limp curled fingers. She buckled the leather mittens tightly in place around my slender wrists, locked them closed with the tiny brass padlocks, and then she slid the fur-covered shoulder straps of my pink tutu down over my trembling arms.

“Stand up, Baby Jennie,” Cath crisply commanded, and she took hold of my leather mittens and dragged me to my feet. She unclipped my dummy chain and left it dangling against my breast, and I bit down on the firm rubber teat to stop it falling out. I swayed unsteadily as she tugged the tight leotard bodice down over my slippery plastic panties and huge nappies, and I clumsily stepped clear of the swishing tulle skirts when she dragged my tutu away from my feet. I heard the jingling of metal when she lowered my toddler harness over the tiara on my head. I compliantly raised my arms and let Aunty Cath feed my mittened fists through the appropriate loops. The leather straps were cold against my warm body, making me flinch and whimper. Aunty buckled the chest and waist straps behind my back, and like Bonnie’s, she gave the chest strap a hard yank to make sure it was tightly secured. My mitten wrist cuffs were clipped to the D-rings either side of my chest, and I was as helpless as the other big babies. I didn’t resist when my smirking Aunty forced me to my knees once more, and I sank to the carpet with a sigh of relief. I felt unsafe standing on my own two feet, these days.

“You’re a naughty baby girl, Baby Jennie!” Aunty Cath scolded me. She pushed me forward until my nose was pressed painfully into the carpet. When she released her grip on my toddler harness, I turned my head to the side so I was facing Bonnie. I wondered if my wide blue eyes clearly reflected my fear, like her huge golden orbs. “You’re wearing cloth nappies, which means my disobedient daughter had to change you at the party. Did you poop your nappy, you bad baby girl?” I cringed at the utter contempt in her tone, and struggled to turn my head and find my mother. But Mummy was slumped in her armchair, looking shell-shocked by the turn of events.

WHACK! The loud open-handed blow across my plastic-covered botty was relatively painless due to the bulk of my warm wet padding, but I squealed in shock nonetheless. WHACK! WHACK! “Answer me!” Aunty Cath harshly commanded, but it was Bonnie who spoke first.
“Leave her alone!” my cousin unexpectedly shrieked in my defence. “It wasn’t her fault!”
“What?” Cath demanded in surprise. She used the white toddler harness to drag her protesting daughter upright onto her knees so she could examine her flushed red face. “What on earth do you mean, Baby Bonnie?” Cath scoffed in disbelief. “Did someone else poop in Baby Jennie’s nappy? Did you?”

“No, no, it’s all my fault,” Bonnie blubbered, and then she burst into a flood of tears. I turned my face back towards my cousin in confusion, painfully dragging my nose and my dummy guard through the carpet. “When I took Baby Jennie to the beauty salon yesterday, I injected her anal muscles with botox and-”
Mummy looked up and she and Cath simultaneously shouted, “What?”
“Explain yourself, Bonnie,” Cath harshly ordered, and her repentant daughter wailed at the anger in her mother’s curt tone.

Bonnie successfully swiped her dripping nose with one pink leather mitten, but she could barely reach her eyes to brush away the tears. “I thought my diaper punishment was all Baby Jennie’s fault, and I- I wanted to get back at her,” Bonnie tremulously explained. “We- I pinched some single-use syringes from the salon’s cosmetic doctor, and I injected some botox around baby’s anal sphincter to numb the muscles. The effect should only last a few months, but until the botox wears off, Baby Jennie won’t be able to stop pooping her pants like a helpless two-year-old.”
“My God, Bonnie! What have you done to my poor baby?” Mummy moaned, climbing slowly to her feet.

Cath compressed her full crimson lips into a thin hard line as she stepped over to Bonnie’s pink vinyl diaper bag. “Have you anything else you need to tell me, Baby Bonnie?” Cath frostily demanded.
“No mummy,” Bonnie snivelled. ‘I’m sorry, mummy. I’m sorry I was a bad baby girl, mummy,” she abjectly apologised, realising it was all too little, too late. My cousin couldn’t see what her mother was doing behind her back, but she saw my big blue eyes widen in alarm when her mother approached her from behind. Cath held a familiar white-frilled, baby-pink leather bonnet in her hands. She was screwing in the pump hose to the mouthpiece. Aunty Cath slipped the soft baby leather bonnet over her daughter’s bowed head. When Bonnie opened her mouth to object, her mother expertly fed the partly-inflated black rubber gag between her writhing lips.

Bonnie’s voluble protests were quickly reduced to an incoherent muffled jumble of words. In moments, the restrictive leather bonnet was buckled tightly in place under her chin. With a few quick pumps, the dummy-gag inflated to fill Bonnie’s mouth, rendering the poor girl speechless. Cath unscrewed the pump bulb and tucked the short black hose under her arm. “I think I’ve heard enough out of you for the moment, Baby Bonnie,” Cath murmured, smiling in grim satisfaction at her daughter’s muffled unintelligible whimpers. “I warned you only yesterday, baby girl; as you treat Baby Jennie, so you would be treated. I’m going to ring a doctor friend of mine tonight, and arrange to buy enough botox shots from her to replace the ones you stole - and also do the same thing to your naughty little poo-poo hole. You are going to suffer the same fate as Baby Jennie. How about that, Baby Bonnie?”

I saw my cousin’s golden eyes widening in terror at the horrifying prospect, and she burbled incoherently in protest. Bonnie violently shook her head in frustration, trying to shake out the inflated mouth-filling gag. Apart from making her wide white lace bonnet frills tremble attractively, her struggles were pointless. Her face turned red and her golden eyes glistened with unshed tears. I turned away from Bonnie so I wouldn’t have to watch her frustrated efforts.

“My God, what a week! What a weekend!” Mummy moaned. She snatched another tissue from the box of Kleenex on the coffee table and swiped at her leaking eyes again. She realised her false eyelashes were peeling away, and I was glad when she grabbed hold of the dangling ends and ripped them free. “My God! What am I saying?” Mummy mumbled. “What a fucking day!” I had never heard my mother use the F-word and my mind reeled in shock. She wrapped the spidery fake lashes in one of the balled-up soggy tissues, and tossed it with the others on the coffee table. “I only found out earlier today that Baby Jennie had been raped a few days ago!”
“What?” Aunty Cath screamed in shock, whirling around to face her shattered younger sister in the armchair.

It took Mummy only a few minutes to tell her horrified big sister all the juicy details of my grubby little adventure in the Nursery with David. I collapsed on the floor and cried like a baby throughout the whole sordid tale. I think at first only Aunty Cath was aware that I was unconsciously thrusting my stiff clittie into the warm wet folds of my nappy against the carpet the entire time. Even I didn’t realise I was doing it until Mummy finished her story. Aunty clucked her tongue in annoyance at my infantile antics and sat me up to stop me pleasuring myself. She smiled in sympathy at the tears staining my flushed cheeks, and produced a frilly baby-blue bibbie to dry my eyes and runny nose. She clipped it around my neck, and I read upside-down the humiliating words, ‘Mummy’s Stinky Baby Girl’ through a veil of tears. Mummy attached the dangling dummy clip to the wide white lace frill around the collar of my bibbie, and I gratefully sucked on the mouth-filling amber teat.

Cath was furious when she learned that the muscular hunk from next door had forced his penis inside my mouth and made me suck him dry, and then anally raped me. My Aunty paced the sunroom thinking furiously when Mummy concluded her tale of woe. Baby Pansy looked equally horrified by my mother’s astounding revelations, and she knelt up and desperately shook her head in a useless attempt to loosen her gag. The diapered big sissy baby obviously had something she wanted to contribute, but her bad baby bonnet was buckled on too tightly, just like Bonnie’s.

Aunty Cath noticed Pansy’s wide pleading eyes and saw her mittens fluttering against her harness strap in distress, but waved her off with a contemptuous sneer. She was in charge of the babies, and she obviously preferred to keep the bigger toddlers silent for the moment. “There’s no proof, you understand,” my Aunt carefully explained to her distraught younger sister. “It’s merely Baby Jennie’s word against David’s.” Cath turned to gaze down disparagingly at me. “And let’s face it - who would you believe? I mean, look at her! Who is going to take the word of a panty-pooping, effeminate, overgrown sissy toddler, over that of a handsome, athletic teenage boy?”

When Aunty Cath put it like that, even I despaired of ever having my revenge. “You haven’t spoken to David’s mother yet?” Cath asked. Mummy shook her head as she dried the tears staining her flushed cheeks. Her make-up was a mess!
“No,” she dismally replied. Mummy loudly blew her nose before adding, “I wouldn’t know how to start a conversation like that with Ruth.”
“I have a plan,” Cath finally announced, and I found her shark-like grin quite frightening. “Did you borrow that nannycam from your neighbour yet?”
“Yes, Ellen gave it to me on Saturday night. It’s already set up in the Nursery, and connected to my computer.” Bonnie’s wide eyes darted towards my face at that news, and I couldn’t understand the frightened look in her huge golden orbs.

“Excellent! I think I have a friend who can drop over a couple of extra antenna receivers we can connect to my computer and…” Cath paused to look down at the group of big babies submissively kneeling on the sunroom floor, gazing up at her and listening attentively to her every word. “Come out to the kitchen, Isy, and I’ll tell you what I’ve got in mind,” Cath suggested to her interested sister a few moments later.

She grabbed Mummy’s hand and dragged her to her feet, and the two towering women in their sexy leather outfits strode into the kitchen in their skyscraper-high black boots. I could hear them chatting quietly out there for a few minutes, but I was too far away to determine what Aunty Cath was telling Mummy. With their wide-brimmed leather bonnets buckled over their heads and covering their ears, I knew the other babies had no chance of hearing anything, either. At one stage the women in the kitchen burst into nervous laughter, and then I heard them go upstairs. When they trotted downstairs and returned to the sunroom about ten minutes later, both women were smiling wolfishly in anticipation.

I noticed Mummy had changed out of her exotic leather outfit into a pair of loose baggy blue jeans and a plain white cotton blouse. She was still wearing her impressive, high-heeled platform boots underneath her blue denim pants, and her beautiful face bore a fresh coat of make-up. “Alright Cath, I’ll go and ask Ellen and Sally if they wouldn’t mind looking after Angelica for an extra hour. I’m sure it will be no problem,” she assured her big sister. “Mind the baby.” With barely a glance for me on all fours, Mummy returned to the kitchen. A few seconds later I heard the back screen door slam behind her.

Cath rooted about in the hot-pink overnight bag for a moment, and then took out another set of ankle cuffs made from baby-pink leather lined with soft fluffy lambs’ wool. There was already a clear plastic tube with a six-inch steel chain running through it, joining the fur-lined restraints. Like Pansy’s, the chain was locked to a metal ring on each padded cuff. Cath stepped over to Bonnie and buckled the leather restraints about her kneeling daughter’s slender ankles, and then locked the cuffs in place. She grabbed the back of Bonnie’s toddler harness and raised her bowed head from the carpet. My stern-faced Aunty unclipped her daughter’s wrists from her white leather toddler harness, and then unbuckled her baby-pink mittens. She held up a finger in warning, and Bonnie gazed up at her fearfully. “Now Bonnie, I’m going to take off your baby mittens and your dummy-gag in a moment. But I’m warning you - one word of protest, one complaint, and the bad baby bonnet goes straight back on - and I’ll leave that gag in all night! Do you understand Mummy?” Bonnie urgently nodded, her glistening golden eyes wide with fear.

Aunty Cath smiled down at the cowed kneeling teenager and nodded in heartless satisfaction. “First let me explain what I want you to do. I want you to take Baby Jennie upstairs and dress her in her prettiest baby frock, frilliest socks, and some sweet little Maryjanes. Get rid of that tiara and brush her hair, and tidy up her make-up, too. Her face is a mess! Alright? I want to see my precious baby niece looking as pretty as I’ve ever seen her. But leave her in that wet nappy, and don’t touch her baby mittens. Before you bring the baby back downstairs, buckle her toddler harness back on over her pretty frock. Understood?” Bonnie nodded again, but I could tell by the look in her eyes that she was as confused as myself. But when her mother deflated the mouth-filling rubber gag with a hiss of escaping air and then unbuckled her bad baby bonnet, Bonnie gasped in relief - but otherwise remained sensibly silent.

“Well, Baby Bonnie? What are you waiting for?” Cath frostily demanded, as soon as she had pulled the snug leather mittens from her daughter’s clenched fists. “Get upstairs and take that sissy baby girl with you!” Bonnie helped me to my feet and slowly led me waddling away, forced to take tiny mincing steps because of the restrictive six-inch hobble between her ankle cuffs. I glanced back over my shoulder as Aunty Cath was helping her bound and gagged ex-husband to his feet. “I have a little job for you too, Baby Pansy,” she informed the heavily diapered sissy, “before I take you home and deal with your naughtiness personally. You need some severe potty-training tonight, my bad baby girl!” I saw his eyes light up at the prospect before Bonnie dragged me away.

We both crawled up the stairs - me because I had been ordered to, and Bonnie because of the hobble chain. Neither of us had a choice. Twenty minutes later Bonnie led me waddling wetly back along the landing to the top of the staircase, and we bumped our way down on our soggy diapered bottoms, step by step like two tiny toddlers. I was wearing my brief, lace-lavished, buttercup-yellow satin party frock, with my bouffant chiffon petties swishing noisily underneath. Although I was wearing the matching yellow satin, plastic-lined rumba panties, Bonnie had been ordered not to change my warm wet nappy. I was dressed in my frilly yellow anklet socks and my shiny white patent Maryjanes, and I felt beautiful with a fresh coating of make-up and perfume, too. My pink toddler harness was tightly buckled around my torso, and my baby-pink leather mittens were still securely padlocked around my wrists.

Mummy had returned from Daisy’s birthday party, where she’d organised our neighbours to babysit Angie for another hour or so. Baby Pansy had contacted someone to bring over the appropriate wireless antennas, and they were meeting them at Cath’s home in ten minutes. Aunty Cath inspected my freshly-done hair, face and clothes, and nodded in thin-lipped approval. “Well done, Bonnie! You certainly made her look like a beautiful little girl again. Apart from her nappies, Baby Jennie looks like she’s about six years old! Perfect!” Bonnie’s mother swiftly buckled her morose daughter’s baby mittens in place, and clipped the wrist cuffs to her toddler harness once more.

Once her arms were safely shackled, Cath slipped the bad baby bonnet back over her daughter’s chestnut locks, and eased the semi-inflated black gag into her protesting mouth. She forced Bonnie to raise her chin so she could buckle the straps in place, and once the frilly baby bonnet was secure, Cath gave the bulb pump a few quick squeezes to inflate the rubber gag. Bonnie was swiftly reduced to pink-cheeked silence, and her huge golden eyes were wide with fear by the time her mother was satisfied. My Aunty unscrewed the pump piece from the front of the pink strap covering Bonnie’s mouth, and tossed it in the hot-pink overnight bag and zipped it closed. I noticed Baby Pansy already had her mittens and silencing bad baby bonnet buckled back in place, as well.

Aunty Cath clapped her hands loudly for attention. “Alright, Baby Pansy and Baby Bonnie. Come with Mummy, girls, and she’ll take you home.” When my Mummy wandered into the sunroom to say goodbye, Cath asked her, “Is everything set?”
Mummy nodded, biting her scarlet-painted bottom lip uncertainly, now that their plan had been unstoppably set in motion. She had brushed on some mascara and black eyeliner to replace her missing false eyelashes, and her long black lashes fluttered in anxiety. Although she looked worried, I thought her face looked beautiful again. “I rang and spoke to Ruth Smith, David’s mother,” Mummy said. “I’ve arranged for him to come over in half an hour to mind Baby Jennie for about two hours, while I supposedly pick up Angie from another birthday party on the other side of town.”

“Excellent,” Aunty Cath replied with an evil leer, rubbing her palms together like Montgomery Burns from ‘The Simpsons’. “Excellent! That should convince the steroid-enhanced bubble-brain he has all the time he needs. I’ll take my big baby girls home now, and make sure they’ll be safe and secure for a few hours. I’ll return in ten or fifteen minutes. We can set up my spare computer in your garage in about five minutes, then you can make like you’re getting ready to go out.”
“What will I do with Baby Jennie in the meantime,” Mummy asked, looking worried.

“Lock her in that cute pink playpen in your back yard,” Cath suggested with a harsh snort of laughter, as she clipped the baby reins to her respective charges’ harnesses. She rolled up the loops of four leather leashes in one meaty fist and grinned at Mummy. “That should keep your sissy baby safe and out of harm’s way until her babysitter arrives. You can tell David she’s waiting for him in her playpen out the back.”

After bidding us farewell, Cath used the baby reins to lead her diapered hobbled daughter and her similarly bound and gagged ex-husband shuffling silently out the front to her black BMW in our driveway. Mummy meanwhile hauled me out to the back yard. I waddled along beside her while she clutched one of my pink baby mittens, but as soon as she released my hand to open the playpen gate, I automatically dropped to all fours. I crawled inside the huge steel playpen with my mittens still locked over my clenched fists, and my mother bolted closed the barred gate behind me and smiled down sympathetically at me. “Don’t worry, baby girl. Everything is going to be alright,” Mummy reassured me, although she looked more than a little worried herself. “I’ll just go and get you a drink.” She returned a few minutes later with an icy-cold baby bottle for me. She reached through the pink-painted bars and clipped my pink terry ‘Princess Potty Pants’ bibbie around my neck first.

I didn’t complain when she reattached my dummy clip to the frilly white lace collar of my bibbie. It was less humiliating than my previous blue bibbie, which Bonnie fortunately left lying on the floor of my Nursery. I stuck the nipple in my mouth and lay back in the bright afternoon sunshine on the warm padded vinyl floor of my playpen, listening to the noisy squealing girls still playing games and partying next door. As I slowly drained my baby bottle of green minty water, I hoped none of the remaining Fairy Princesses at Daisy’s birthday party wandered close enough to the oleander bushes bordering our properties to catch sight of me locked in my shameful pink prison. I shuddered at the potential humiliation and gripped my plastic baby bottle tightly between both mittened fists, squeezing it in fear.

I was shocked when a short time later I heard a deep menacing chuckle close behind me. I whirled around on my hands and knees, my empty bottle flying from my clumsy grasp and clattering against the steel bars. Handsome David was standing beside my playpen, leaning on the high steel railing with his elbows and smirking down at me in bemused contempt. He was dressed in a black collared polo shirt and a pair of baggy khaki shorts, with his usual high-top sneakers on his feet. “Well look at you!” He snickered, but his cobalt-blue eyes were wide with complete surprise. “Don’t you look pretty today!” He laughed, and it was a dirty, wicked sound. “Did you make yourself all pretty for Daddy, so he would give his sweet little baby girl some extra-good lovin’ this afternoon? Huh, Baby Jennie?”

I cringed away from the muscular brute, but he merely laughed louder and stepped around to the opposite end of the playpen to unlock the barred steel gate. He opened it and motioned for me to crawl out, but I fearfully backed away from his leering grin. “Come on, baby girl,” he cooed, like he was talking to a real toddler girl. He raised the barred hinged gate high for me in invitation and sang, “Crawl out of your playpen to daddy, Princess Potty-pants - or daddy will go and get some of those girls he can hear partying next door, and introduce them all to his diapered big baby girl. Maybe they would like to help change your wet nappy?”

I’d already suffered enough humiliation today at the hands of the girls next door, so I reluctantly crawled out of the relative safety of my pink playpen. David leaned on the top rail with one elbow and didn’t offer to help. He kept chuckling when I remained on all fours, crawling across the back lawn like a helpless infant all the way to the veranda steps. “Holy shit! Are you wearing baby mittens, too?” He snorted in derision, and it was obvious he wasn’t expecting an answer from me. “What a baby!”

He didn’t bother offering me a hand, so I risked climbing to my feet and clumsily mounted the rough wooden steps, one slippery white-patent Maryjane at a time, like a real toddler learning to walk. Impatient with my slow waddling progress, David eventually snatched one of my tiny leather-bound fists and dragged me across the veranda and inside the silent empty house. “Gees! Are those mittens locked on?” He inspected the white leather cuffs and shook his head in disdainful amusement at the small brass padlocks as led me upstairs, although he obviously relished the fact that my baby mittens would certainly prevent me interfering with his nefarious schemes.

When I waddled into the brightly-lit Nursery beside him anxiously sucking my dum-dums, I looked around for the hidden camera I learned Mummy had set in place last night. But I couldn’t see any sign of the so-called ‘nannycam,’ and I worried what my mother and my fierce Aunty had planned. I didn’t know my Aunty was already hiding in our garage, with a computer and a monitor from her place set up on daddy’s workbench. The antenna was connected and tuned to the broadcasting nannycam, and her computer was recording on the hard drive everything that happened in the Nursery.

Before David lifted me onto the change table, he let me drop onto my big padded bum on the carpet. He grinned down at me, a wicked gleam in his cobalt-blue eyes. “Stay right there, baby girl,” he advised me with an evil leer. He collected one of my puffy pink disposable diapers from under the change table and took a pair of my pink plastic panties from the dresser drawer. “I’ll be back in a minute, Princess,” he promised in a husky whisper, before he disappeared downstairs carrying the two items.

Meanwhile my mother had run next door and was knocking on the Smith’s front door, with another antenna in one hand and the software disc in the other. When a puzzled Ruth Smith let Mummy inside, Isabell first insisted that she need to use a computer that was net-connected. Ruth led Mummy to her own laptop, frowning in confusion. While Mummy attached the antenna, inserted the software disc and then tuned in to the broadcasting camera, she carefully explained why she had set up a spy camera in her sissy baby’s Nursery - and what she suspected Ruth’s older boy of doing.

The distraught mother denied the possibility that her handsome, perfectly-normal, wonderful teenage son could ever do anything so heinous. But when her laptop screen lit up with the images beamed from the Nursery next door, Ruth fell silent and waited to see what would transpire. The two mothers could clearly see a grainy image of a big diapered baby girl in a pretty yellow frock sitting on the floor of the Nursery, and their eyes remained glued to the flickering screen as I looked around like a wide-eyed toddler.

I sat on my warm puffy bot-bot and slowly gazed around the spacious Nursery, looking for any sign of a camcorder. I carefully examined everything from my spot on the floor - the familiar diaper-changing items on the shelf above the change table, the baby stuff on my dressing table, and the make-up and hair accessories on the mirrored vanity bench. Nothing looked abnormal or out of place. I stared at the collection of bears and dolls on the high wooden shelf up on the far wall, but they all looked completely normal to me. I was about to crawl over to the walk-in wardrobe and see if there was a camera concealed behind the partially-open door, but David returned before I could put my plan into action. He carried one of my big pink baby bottles full of warm milk in one hand, and my pink diaper and plastic pilchers in the other. He dumped everything at the head of the padded change table, out of harm’s way.

“Okay baby girl,” he sang invitingly, “up we hop!” David grabbed me around the waist and lifted me onto the change table as though I was as light as a feather. I found his strength quite terrifying, and decided to do whatever the musclebound hunk ordered. He flipped up the back of my dress and petties in the rear, and pushed me onto my back. “Your Mum said you were soaked and I had to change your nappy right away, Baby Jennie,” he huskily informed me, as he removed my white patent Maryjanes. He left my frilly anklet socks in place, and the yellow lace frills trembled around my shivering ankles when I raised my feet. “She said you were wet through and needed to be changed, but she didn’t have time to do it before she had to leave. Is that right?” I didn’t bother responding, and simply chewed anxiously on the soothing rubber teat of my dum-dums when he tossed my slithering skirt front and frilly petties up over my tummy.

David didn’t seem to expect a reply either, and he kept chatting mostly to himself as he pulled down my frill-laden, plastic-lined, yellow satin rumba panties, and drew them clear of my sheer white sock toes. “Oh Baby Jennie! Pink nappies now? You really are a sissy baby girl, aren’t you?” He tossed the rumba panties to the floor and poked my warm wet nappy front, then grimaced in disgust. “Tsk-tsk-tsk!” He clucked his tongue in disapproval when he realised I really was saturated, and my drenched nappy front clung heavily to my shrivelled genitals. “What a dirty, wet little girl you are!” he scolded me, as he removed the pink-capped steel pins and stuck them in the bar of soap on the shelf overhead. When he slowly lowered the soggy front of my nappy, he seemed surprised to find my limp little clittie nestled in my crotch like a sleeping pink worm. But he really didn’t care. It wasn’t my sexual satisfaction that concerned him.

He pulled my wet cloth diapers from underneath me, disposed of the liners and the sodden soaker pad in the bin, and then tossed my dripping nappies and damp baby panties in my nappy bucket. David was gentle as a lamb when he wiped my clittie and ball sack with a handful of soothing moist baby wipes. Totally beyond my control, my limp organ began to stir. He raised my ankles to clean my bum, and eventually his probing touches at my puffy back door made my sensitive little tool star to swell, no matter how hard I tried to stop it from happening. When he lowered my legs, he snickered at the outward sign of my arousal. He slid an open pink disposable diaper under me, and let my bottom drop onto the rustling papery padding. Then he picked up the tub of Vaseline from the shelf above, and my uncontrollable clittie swelled even more.

David chortled nastily at my rising excitement, but the only comment he made was; “We need to put some of this special cream around your sensitive little rosebud, baby girl.” He crooned like he was talking to a real baby girl, “We don’t want you getting a nasty nappy rash down there, do we Baby Jennie?” He grabbed my ankles with his other hand and swept my petite feet back over my head, exposing my little pink freckle to his monstrous machinations. I anxiously chewed on my dummy-teat and squirmed helplessly in excitement when David’s fat finger probed at the wrinkled entrance to my well-used opening. In spite of my fear, my botty cheeks naturally relaxed open, exposing my wrinkled back door to his devilish caresses. His greasy digit twirled round and around my sensitive puffy boy-pussy, and then he thrillingly slipped the tip inside my dilating hole.

“Ooo! Oh Daddy! Daddy!” I couldn’t stop myself from moaning ecstatically when he forced his fat greasy phalange deeper inside my twitching rosebud, and I wondered if Mummy and Aunty Cath were watching. As a matter of fact, they were - but Ruth Smith was beginning to doubt her next-door neighbour’s reliability. From where the nannycam sat, on the high shelf mounted on the far wall nearest the head end of the change table, it looked and sounded like David was performing his babysitting duties with due diligence. I was the naughty little boy with the uncontrollable erection, feet wriggling in the air and moaning loudly with arousal! Ruth watched as her son spread the thick layer of Vaseline around my wrinkled pink anus, unaware that one of his greasy fat fingers had already penetrated me, preparing my back passage for another dastardly session of anal rape. His probing finger slid all the way inside my excitable boy-pussy again, and he swirled it around to make sure every inch was coated with greasy lubricant.

I moaned aloud at the erotic caresses, and my little feet began to helplessly twitch and thrash in his grasp. He sniggered at my excited cries and unexpectedly withdrew his titillating finger, making me gasp in disappointment. David abruptly released my legs and my twitching feet crashed to the padded surface, but he only grinned down lasciviously at my excited, fearful expression as he wiped his grubby finger clean with a moist baby wipe. My throbbing clittie was fully erect and bobbing above my tummy with arousal. The tip was leaking gobs of pre-cum, but my mouth had dried up completely. After dusting a light coating of powder over my belly and stiff red clittie, I was surprised when David immediately pulled the front of my pink disposable diaper up over my throbbing tool. He didn’t bother powdering my botty or rubbing in the silky talc, and he tightly fastened the crackling disposable over my narrow hips with the strong adhesive tapes.

Some rustling pink plastic panties came next, and I realised they were the same baby panties David had taken downstairs a few minutes ago. I wondered what the big brute planned to do to me? Maybe he only intended forcing me suck his huge cock this afternoon? I have to admit, my pulsating little tool grew even harder at the frightening - yet arousing - prospect. David lowered the slithery front of my yellow satin dress and frothy chiffon petties over my pink baby panties, and gave my forearms a teasing wiggle. He heard a jingling sound from my wrists, and that’s when he noticed the tiny steel clips attached to the white leather wrist cuffs that secured my mittens in place. He held my forearms against my bosom and examined the clips closely, and when he eyed the shiny chromed D-rings on the front of my pink toddler harness, I saw his cobalt-blue eyes light up with sadistic delight when he made the connection.

David snickered in cruel appreciation as he clipped my wrist restraints to the D-rings on my toddler harness. I was powerless to stop him, and my baby-pink mittens flailed about my bosom in useless protest. I gazed up at him in wide-eyed alarm and whimpered around my dum-dums in fearful anticipation. “Come on, Baby Jennie,” he urged me as he lifted me down from the change table. His voice had suddenly grown deeper, and I recognised the husky throaty tone of sexual arousal. He set me on my wide-splayed stockinged feet, and I wobbled dangerously as I clumsily struggled for balance. He collected the warm baby bottle and gripped one of my mittened fists, and smiled wickedly as he suggested, “Come over to the rocking chair, little girl, and you can sit on Daddy’s lap while you drink your bottle of milk.”

In the house next door, Ruth Smith turned away from the monitor to confront her neighbour Isabell. She defensively insisted, “See? My son is being a perfect babysitter! It’s your twisted little sissy who’s sexually aroused. I don’t know what you’re complaining about-” Her protests died when she saw the horrified expression on Isabell’s face, and her crinkled blue eyes darted back to the flickering screen.

David handed me my warm bottle to hold, and I clumsily clutched it to my trembling bosom with both mittened fists. He turned me around so I faced away from him, so I wouldn’t see him unzipping his khaki shorts or lowering them around his narrow hips. The closet door had drifted open, and I could see my feminine reflection in the full-length mirror mounted behind the door. I couldn’t see what David was doing behind my trembling wide-flared skirts. But we were standing side-on to the nannycam mounted on the high wooden shelf, and the recording lens inside the teddy could see everything he was doing. His thick erection clearly poked out through the hole in his tighty-whities, and in the home office next door, Mummy gasped in shock.

For a few moments, the watching women remained frozen in place, too stunned to move. The muscular lad swiftly sat on the white wicker rocking chair, and then he reached for my padded hips. He tilted the chair forwards and made me clumsily shuffle backwards between his spread thighs. David brusquely shoved my yellow satin skirt and petticoats up out of the way in back, and I felt so feminine as I watched my lace-edged hem and petties flying about in the mirror. I admired the gorgeous make-up job Bonnie had done on my face, and the way my frothy petties gently swirled around my diapered hips. I really did look like a beautiful little girl!

David made me perch there on tippy-toes for a few seconds while he fiddled under my puffy bum. Then he gripped one of my padded hips, and slowly eased me back onto his lap. At first I thought he was kindly arranging a cushion for me to sit on. I didn’t realise he was using his other hand to thread the spongy purple head of his swollen stiff tool into the slits he’d cut in the seat of my plastic panties and my disposable diaper. The first inkling I had that something was wrong was when he carefully settled me on his lap, and I felt something hot and hard sliding between my greasy bum cheeks.

I squealed in pain as David forced the hot head of his huge hard cock inside my slippery boy-pussy. “Oh daddy! No daddy! Pweathe daddy, no?” I foolishly squealed in protest, my dum-dums falling from my writhing pink lips. I tried to bear down like I was doing a poo-poo, trying to force his cock out. But that only seemed to allow him easier access, and his hot throbber grew slipperier as it slid another painful inch inside me. My pink leather mittens flailed in front of my heaving bosom, and I almost lost my grip on my bottle. David ignored my high-pitched squeals for mercy and gripped me tightly around my slender waist with both hands. He wriggled his hips, groaning in guttural satisfaction as his red-hot poker penetrated me another inch.

“A perfect babysitter?” Mummy demanded of her stunned neighbour, her voice an angry snarl. “Look what your perverted son is doing to my poor little baby!” Isabell jumped to her feet and dashed towards the Smith’s front door, with her chubby neighbour hot on her heels. The low hedge separating the front of the two properties was too high and wide to easily hurdle, and Isabell knew she’d sprain an ankle if she attempted the jump in her thigh-high stiletto boots. She ran down the Smith’s front path instead, turned left, and dashed along the footpath. She almost lost her footing on her slippery leather soles when did another ninety-degree left turn to sprint up the concrete driveway towards her house. Ruth Smith tried to keep up, but her shorter legs and bulkier frame meant she was already metres behind by the time Isabell threw open her front door.

As soon as Cath saw the boy’s erect penis pop into view, she snarled in fury. But she waited until the musclebound teen had buried his huge tool all the way inside the protesting sissy baby’s bottom before she burst into action. She ran through the back door of our garage and sprinted across the back yard. She had to dance on the soles of her feet so her stiletto heels didn’t sink into the soft ground, and the loose black cotton blouse she’d tossed over a clean black tricot bra fluttered in the breeze. Cath leaped onto the veranda and pulled open the screen door, threw open the back door, and hurtled through the kitchen into the hallway. She was already halfway up the stairs before Mummy burst in through the front door.

“Oh yeah, baby!” David moaned in guttural satisfaction. “You’re so hot and wet inside!” David slid back in the deep wicker chair and drew me with him. He lifted me off my feet so all my insignificant weight bore down on his pounding hard tool. He reached down and gripped my slender thighs, lifting me with ease and spreading my trembling legs. He brought his knees together and lowered my little legs either side of his, till I helplessly straddled his muscular hairy thighs. I felt his manly girth slowly sliding deeper inside me, and my stiff clittie pounded with uncontrollable excitement inside my puffy disposable diaper. I moaned girlishly at the pleasure/pain as my well-used sphincter opened wide to accept him, until I felt the crinkling seat of my pink plastic panties come to rest against his loins.

“Oh daddy no! No daddy, no!” I squealed in useless protest, as he irresistibly buried his pulsating rod deep inside me. I shuddered as his manly girth stretched my naughty hole painfully wide, and then the solid throbbing length of him was buried all the way inside my twitching pussy. I felt the soft spongy head caressing that secret sensitive spot deep inside me, and my tearful protests faltered, becoming instead a low impassioned moan. “Oh daddy pweathe? Pweathe daddy? Ohh daddy!” I gasped helplessly in arousal as he pressed my hips down, till my diapered botty cheeks settled firmly onto his lap. The strangest thing was - watching our reflection in the mirror, you couldn’t really see that there was anything untoward going on. I could see a pretty little curly-haired girl in her gorgeous satin frock and swishing chiffon petties, being dandled on her handsome young daddy’s lap as he rocked her backwards and forwards.

David started rocking the wicker chair faster and harder, and because my thrashing feet didn’t touch the floor, I had no way of controlling how deeply he penetrated me. I dropped my sloshing bottle but David noticed. He deftly caught the full plastic vessel when it bounced off his knees. He brought the clear silicon nipple to my parted lips with one huge hand and slipped the spurting teat into my mouth, tilting the base of the bottle high to silence my breathless, high-pitched squeals. He ordered in that deep husky voice, “Suck, baby girl. Suck on your titty-bottle like you’re sucking on Daddy’s cock. Oh baby!” He groaned in arousal when my boy-pussy instinctively twitched at his rude admonition, my anal muscles tightly gripping his swollen love-pole.

As I sucked down a mouthful of warm sweet milk, I remorselessly squeezed his throbbing rod in my feminine grip. But that couldn’t stop his huge piece of man-meat sliding all the way in and almost all the way out of my slippery back door, with every steady backward and forward rock of the wide wicker chair. “Oh, good girl! What a good little girl,” he grunted in animalistic pleasure. In the mirror, I watched my feminine reflection in amazement. I was that helpless baby girl in the shiny yellow frock, puffy diaper and pink baby panties, buckled in her pink toddler harness and mittens, rocking on her daddy’s lap while he lovingly fed her a warm bottle of milk and babbled words of praise in her ear. I felt so feminine and helpless, yet strangely fulfilled. Despite the intense sexual feelings coming from my ravaged pussy and my throbbing hard clittie, everything looked completely normal from the outside. I wondered if Mummy and Aunty Cath could see what the big brute was doing to me?

David kept the warm nipple crammed between my writhing lips, and reached around my bucking loins with his free hand. His large hand pressed down over the front of my diaper, right over my pulsating clittie, and he clutched me to his body in desperate urgency. I gasped and gurgled wetly around the spurting bottle teat as he sped up the rocking motion, thrusting his throbbing hot tool faster and harder inside me. Even though he’d been inside my pussy for only a minute or two, I could feel he was almost ready to explode. His swollen hard cock suddenly grew even thicker, and I could feel the solid length of him pulsating deep inside me. He was moaning almost continually, and then he began grunting in excitement. “Oh baby! Oh baby! Take it, you dirty little bitch!” He sounded like an animal when he growled, “Take it all for Daddy!”

“Let go of that baby, you rapist!” Cath screamed, as she exploded into the Nursery on her towering high heels. Her black leather pants clung to her muscular booted legs like a second skin and her loose black cotton blouse flapped around her shoulders like the wings of an avenging angel.

David thrust me away from his body with unbelievable strength. I flew through the air before crumpling to the carpet on my front, a few feet in front of the wicker chair. He leaped to his feet and tried to tug his shorts over his swollen glistening tool, but it was too late. He had come too far, and his bad baby juice had already begun its relentless unstoppable journey from his tightening balls. “Aarghh!” He screamed in undeniable pleasure as a jolt of creamy jism pulsated out of his bobbing penis. It flew across the room to land on my back, staining the rear of my buttercup-yellow toddler frock below the floppy satin bow. “Arrgghhh! Fuck! Aarrgghhh!” David groaned in uncontrollable relief as his climax overtook his senses for a few moments. More cum jettisoned from the purple tip of his huge tool, spraying over my buttocks and thighs, splattering wetly against my plastic panties and staining my upturned petticoats, too.

The writhing hulk helplessly clutched his throbbing rod in his right fist and tried to aim the spray away from my body, but Aunty Cath roughly pushed him backwards into the rocking chair. That was when he saw his mother and my mother dashing through the doorway into the Nursery, both glaring at him in fury.
“Oh David! How could you?” Ruth Smith shrilly demanded, her plump sweaty face absolutely horror-stricken. She was actually trembling from a combination of shock and rage. My Mummy shoved Aunty Cath out of the way and loomed over the cowering teenage boy in the rocking chair.

“You bastard!” Mummy snapped in fury, and she slapped David hard across the face with her strong right hand. The resounding ‘crack’ of flesh on flesh echoed loudly in the spacious Nursery. “You’ll pay for what you did to my poor baby!” She turned and crouched down beside me on the floor, and gathered my trembling frame into her loving arms. I wanted to cuddle her and cry my heart out, but my mittens were still shackled to the front of my toddler harness. I buried my face in Mummy’s soft fragrant neck instead, sobbing my eyes out. I didn’t see Aunty Cath take down the nannycam bear from the shelf and discretely switch off the camera inside. My calculating Aunty wanted no permanent record of the next few minutes.

To be concluded in chapter 42.
Still desperate for some feedback
Baby Jennie

Synopsis. David is punished for what he did to Baby Jennie. Bonnie insists on making it up to the the sissy baby, and Baby Jennie finds she has some decisions to make.

Chapter 42. Decision Time.

Ruth Smith took Mummy’s place in front of the wicker chair, watching in disgust as her embarrassed son guiltily tried to shove his shrivelling slimy cock inside his khaki shorts. “David, you’re a wicked, wicked boy!” she harshly rebuked him, but the cowering teenager had other things on his mind. As he raised his hands from his crotch, he noticed his fingers were smeared with Vaseline and faeces, and he moaned loudly in disgust. He desperately glanced around, searching for something to wipe clean his dirty hands, but my Aunty stridently intervened.

“Don’t touch anything!” Cath snarled at the frightened young man, grabbing his wrists and holding up his mucky fingers in front of his shame-tinged cheeks. “That shit on your cock and your hands will make great evidence for the police forensics department.” You should have seen the look on David’s face!

“Police?” Ruth shrieked in alarm, “We don’t need to involve the police!”
“I’m afraid we do,” Cath coldly assured her, glaring down at the terrified boy with callous disregard. “I’ll call them now, and tell them to come over and arrest your son on charges of sodomy and statutory rape.” She released his trembling wrists and turned to me on the floor, pointed and snickered. “Oh my! Look at those cum stains on baby’s dress and petticoats.” Everybody in the post-Clinton era knew what irrefutable evidence those uncontrollable drops of jism represented.
Now Ruth looked terrified. “No, wait!” She pleaded with my grim-faced Aunty, “Please? There must be some other way…?”

Cath let the distressed woman’s entreaty hang in the air for a few long moments, and then appeared to think deeply. “Hmm,” the tall brunette murmured thoughtfully, as if an alternative solution had just that moment occurred to her. “I suppose I could punish your disgusting rapist of a son myself - if you both agreed?”
“What?” The plump woman cried in confusion, tears filling her crinkled blue eyes. “No, no! I-”
“I’ll just go ahead and call the police then, shall I? I think your David will probably be confined to a juvenile detention centre for the next two or three years. I hear they’re pretty rough institutions, but-”
“Wait! What do you have in mind?” Ruth entreated, her sweaty face creased with terror and shame.

Cath took her time before replying, cruelly dragging out the moment. “I’ll tell you what. You hand your son over to me, to discipline as I see fit for the next four weeks until school starts, and I’ll forget about phoning the cops.”
“Discipline?” Ruth muttered in anguished confusion.
“Yes, discipline - something which I think your little rapist has sadly been lacking,” Cath tersely replied. When she saw the poor woman still looked confused, Cath went on to explain. “He can babysit Baby Jennie and some of her baby friends here and at my place for the next few weeks - without pay of course, and under constant adult supervision - so he can learn to be a responsible adult. Naturally he would have to wear a chastity device, to prevent him from interfering with the girls-”
“What?” David and his mother cried in unison.

Cath chuckled at their aghast expressions. “Yes, a chastity device! They still make them for unruly males, you know? Your little rapist has already proved he can’t control himself, so it would be absolutely essential whenever he was around pretty little girls like our Baby Jennie. And I should warn you - I firmly believe in corporal punishment for bad behaviour.”
“No mum! You can’t let her beat me?” David shrilly protested, his handsome features puckering in fear.
“I’ll send for the police now then, shall I?” Cath brutally suggested, striding purposefully towards the doorway to the landing.

This time it was Ruth who leaned down and smartly struck her son across his unmarked cheek with her open left palm. The sharp smack was frighteningly loud in the otherwise silent room. Now both sides of his face bore a fiery red handprint. “Shut up, David!” she snarled at him in red-faced fury. “Would you rather be gang-raped in some juvenile prison?” The terrified boy clutched his bruised cheek with his mucky fingers and burst into tears, shaking his head in fearful denial.
“No, no, mum!” He wailed, “You can’t let her send me to prison.”

Ruth ignored her weeping son’s protestations and turned to face my towering buxom Aunty. “Four weeks, you say?” Cath nodded, smiling grimly in triumph. Ruth turned to Mummy, still cradling me in her arms on the floor. “And you agree to this, too?” When Mummy silently nodded, the plump woman’s shoulders drooped in resignation. “I guess we really don’t have much of a choice. Do we? When did you want to start?”
“I’ll take your little rapist with me to my place right now, and get him fitted with a chastity device,” Cath brightly suggested, but everyone knew it was an irrefusable order. “I’ll have a contract drawn up for all of us to sign tomorrow, so the arrangement will be all nice and legal - and if you decide to change your mind; I always have the recording of the rape on my hard drive, which I can show the police.”

Both Ruth and her son visibly cringed every time Cath said the words ‘rape’ or ‘rapist’. David looked even more horrified to learn that his criminal assault had been caught on disc, and he crumpled over sobbing in fear. No one thought to ask why Cath might have a male chastity device at her place. My Aunty pointed to the weeping boy with a disgusted sneer. “Isabell? Can you clean him up a little before I get him ready to take home in my car? I don’t want him touching anything of mine with those stinky hands of his.” My Mummy nodded agreement, although the look she gave the snivelling boy would have terrified him, had he seen it. “Come with me, Ruth,” Cath ordered our stunned neighbour, striding from the room with the absolute expectation that the mousy woman would meekly follow. She did.

“Will you be alright here for a few minutes, baby girl?” Mummy tenderly asked me. I nodded, sniffing back the tears. She released me and stood up, grabbed David by one meaty bicep and dragged him to his feet. She hauled the cringing boy into the en-suite bathroom where I could hear him blubbering in fear and shame.

“Please no,” he pleaded. “Please don’t-”
“Shut up!” Mummy harshly ordered him. I rolled onto my tummy and gently thrust my stiff clittie into the rustling papery folds of my warm disposable diaper, my plastic panties crinkling noisily and my frothy petticoats swishing femininely around the slippery seat of my pink pilchers. “I didn’t see you showing my baby girl any mercy when she was begging you not to rape her a few minutes ago,” Mummy brutally cut off his whining objections. “Shut up, you snivelling sissy! You’re only getting what you deserve.” He fell silent when she roughly washed his dirty face and hands with a cold soapy flannel, although his pitiful sobs grew louder when she made him pull out his shit-caked shrivelled penis. She viciously scoured clean his poopy tool, too, ignoring his tearful pleas for mercy.

Mummy dragged the humiliated, freshly-scrubbed boy back into the Nursery by one ear, just as Aunty Cath and Ruth returned from downstairs. I lay still on my tummy for a moment and watched them warily, hoping the women hadn’t noticed what I’d been doing. My throbbing clittie pulsated with frustration inside my warm puffy diaper, and I discretely wriggled about on the slick wet spot created by my pre-cum. Our neighbour was holding a collection of black leather straps in her trembling hands, and she wore an expression of stunned disbelief.

“It’s completely necessary,” Aunty Cath firmly assured the poor confused woman, as she practically shoved Ruth into the room. Mummy released her grip on David’s tortured earlobe and stood aside to let them pass, and then shuffled out of the Nursery. “If your little rapist was going to prison, he’d be wearing steel shackles and be locked to two other inmates - and sleeping in the same cell with them. I’m sure you agree this method is much more humane,” Cath smoothly added.
“But- But I-” Ruth tried to protest, but my domineering Aunty easily overrode her feeble objections.

“It is essential that you lock his restraints on, Ruth,” Cath ordered, steering the horrified woman towards her cowering red-cheeked son. “It assures David that you are in complete agreement with his punishment, and reminds our little rapist here that there is no backing out.” She guided the woman’s hands to drape the black leather harness over her mortified son’s bowed head, settling the wide leather straps over his drooping shoulders. Cath helpfully guided the stunned boy’s hands through the appropriate leather loops, and then she turned the snivelling teenager around so his mother could buckle the humiliating toddler harness tightly between his shoulder blades.

When his harness was safely secured about his muscular torso, Cath turned him around to face his mother once more. The shame-faced boy kept his teary blue eyes glued to the carpet, and didn’t see Cath passing his mother some floppy black leather baby mittens. I noticed David’s toddler harness had some large chromed letters mounted on a narrow band across his heaving chest, spelling out the simple message; ‘Bad Baby.’ Cath instructed Ruth as she slipped his mittens over his limp curled fingers, forcing his hands into tightly clenched fists. The befuddled woman buckled the attached thick black wrist cuffs around her son’s muscular forearms. Aunty Cath held the boy’s mittens against his chest, and showed his mother how to attach the dangling metal clips to the D-rings riveted either side of the broad leather chest strap.

When the bound boy stood before them cringing in shame, Cath gave one shackled mitten a hard tug to make sure it was safely secured. Then she reached up and carelessly slapped the trembling boy across one blazing red cheek with her hard hand, and he jerked back in fear, mittens flailing. “You wait here for me, you naughty child,” she warned the cringing teenager, and she gently took one of Ruth’s hands and led her from the Nursery. “I can take him from here, Ruth,” I heard Aunty Cath kindly explain. She led the poor distracted woman along the landing. I saw Mummy following in their wake. “I’ll take him over to my place to sort him out properly, and I’ll bring him back to your place by dinner time tonight.”

Aunty’s calm soothing voice trailed off as she led Ruth downstairs, and I couldn’t hear the rest of their conversation. I stared up at the bound, humiliated boy in interest, but he wouldn’t even glance in my direction. I deliberately rocked up and down on my stiff clittie, causing my thick plastic panties to rustle and my papery disposable to crinkle noisily, and making it obvious to him what I was doing. But snivelling David steadfastly ignored me, caught up in his own version of hell.

When Cath returned to the Nursery alone, she was carrying some familiar fur-lined ankle restraints. They were joined by a short steel chain inside a clear plastic tube, except these cuffs were fashioned from thick black leather to match David’s humiliating toddler harness and baby mittens. For some reason I found the black cuffs and harness more intimidating, and I delicately shuddered in fear for the woeful youth. Cath forced the shivering lad to his knees, bent his torso forwards, and heartlessly rammed his runny nose into the carpet. She brutally kicked his feet the desired distance apart with the toe of one thigh-high boot. My grim-faced Aunty buckled the black ankle cuffs below his thick muscular calves, making sure the straps were nice and tight. She locked them in place with two small brass padlocks, and settled the plastic tube encasing the hobble chain evenly between his spread ankles. Two strong black leather leashes were clipped to the rear chromed D-rings of his toddler harness, and Cath used the short leather reins to drag the snivelling child upright to his knees. “Open your mouth, boy,” she briskly commanded. She forcibly bent his head back as she slipped a black leather bonnet over his short blonde hair.

While this snug black bonnet lacked the feminine addition of a frilly lace brim, it still possessed a wide leather strap that covered his mouth. My cruel Aunty forced the semi-inflated black rubber gag between the boy’s writhing lips. He tried to protest and twist his head aside as she tightly buckled the bonnet under his chin, and his black mittened fists flailed uselessly from the front D-rings of his chest harness. A few quick pumps on the bulb soon silenced his whining objections. His head froze in place and air whistled noisily through his nostrils. His cobalt-blue eyes were wide with terror when he stared up at her, silently pleading for mercy. She kept pumping till his cheeks were bulging like a chipmunk’s and his wide blue eyes were round as saucers. I could see the whites all the way around, and knew he was terrified. With her unwitting subject now safely bound, hobbled, and gagged, she used the strong leather reins to haul her victim to his feet. “Let’s go, you naughty boy,” Cath urged him, with a sharp spank on his shivering behind. She smacked his bum to direct the hobbled boy shuffling out the doorway, and I heard her crisply spanking him along the landing, all the way to the top of the stairs.

I knew he would be clumsily bumping his way downstairs on his hairy bum like a terrified toddler, and I didn’t envy him the next few mortifying hours. My clittie was still hard and throbbing, and I rocked and rolled on my hot pulsating tool as I wondered what had happened to my Mummy. A few minutes later she returned to the Nursery carrying a fresh bottle of warm milk. “Come on, Baby Jennie,” Mummy gently urged me, as she helped me climb up on the change table. I noticed she had abandoned her exotic thigh-high boots for some sensible runners and let down her hair, and she seemed much steadier on her feet - and slightly less imposing. As soon as I was sitting up on the soft padded vinyl surface, Mummy unclipped my mittens from my toddler harness and then unlocked them. She tossed the locks on the shelf overhead, and I heard a ring of keys jingling up there, too.

Mummy removed my restrictive baby mittens and turned me side-on to unbuckle my harness. “Reach for the sky, my precious baby girl,” she softly cooed. When I obeyed and raised my arms, she swept the pink leather harness over my head and tossed it on the floor. She unclipped my bibbie and took off my satin frock, and then tossed the stained petticoat on top of the yellow dress on the floor. “Those will all need a good wash,” she grunted in annoyance. She clipped the ‘Princess Potty-pants’ bibbie back around my neck, and the soft white lace frills tickled my throat and bare tummy. “Lie back down, baby. Good girl!” She handed me my bottle, and I slipped the warm teat into my mouth and gratefully started sucking, suddenly aware of my thirst. She smoothed my frilly bibbie over my breast, smiling at the embroidered inscription. “Let’s get baby into a proper cloth nappy, shall we? Lift up that bot-bot for Mummy, Princess Potty-pants,” Mummy crooned in invitation, and she pulled down my punctured pink plastic panties. She examined the slash in the seat and the layer of dirty brown grease around the edges of the cut, and tossed the ruined pilchers in the bin with a growl of anger.

Mummy didn’t seem surprised to find my clittie mostly swollen and hard when she lowered the front of my almost-dry disposable. “Aww! Did that nasty brute get my little girl all worked up?” She gently teased me, but her indulgent smile assured me she wasn’t annoyed. “My poor little girl!” My diaper was a bit dirty in the back, especially around the poopy slit cut in the seat. Mummy carefully wrapped it up, taped it closed, and tossed it in a nappy sack. My swollen tool jumped when I heard Mummy slipping on a pair of latex gloves. She ignored my thickening clittie for the moment, and set to cleaning the sticky brown mess from my bumcheeks with a handful of baby wipes. The poopy Vaseline smeared all over my crack meant it took her ages to scrub me clean back there. I couldn’t stop my uncontrollable clittie from stiffening with arousal every time she poked and prodded my puffy anal lips.

I thought about David, and wondered if Aunty Cath was going to use her strap-on dildo on him like she did with Baby Pansy? Would she force him to take it up the arse, like he made me? Would she make him accept what I’d been forced to accept? With those bizarre thoughts raging through my mind; was it any wonder I couldn’t control my excitable little tool? By the time Mummy finally let my legs drop, the crimson head of my swollen clittie was poking me in the belly button, although she merely gave my throbbing stiffie a small forgiving smile. “Open your legs wide for Mummy, baby girl,” she sweetly crooned, and I compliantly bent my knees back and spread my slender thighs as far apart as I could.

Mummy poured a generous dusting of sweet-smelling talc over my bobbing hard tool and across my trembling tummy, but she didn’t bother rubbing it in. Instead she bent my knees back even further and spread my relaxed botty cheeks wide. She covered one gloved finger with a fresh coating of Vaseline from the open tub on the shelf above the change table, and tenderly smiled down at me when I began to wriggle my feet in excitement. I sucked harder on the teat of my bottle, gulping down the warm milk as Mummy gently probed between my swollen lips. Then she poked her greasy gloved fingertip a few thrilling millimetres inside my dilated opening, making me gasp. “How does it feel in there, baby?” She asked, the concern evident in her wide olive-green eyes. “Did David hurt you? Is your botty-hole - I mean, is your pussy sore?” She delicately inquired.

I slipped the nipple from my lips, ignoring the warm spurt of milk on my cheek when I softly replied, “No Mummy.”
“Tell Mummy if it hurts in here, darling.” I sighed in helpless pleasure when her probing finger crept a little further inside me, and thrust the dripping silicon teat back in my mouth. “Open up, darling. Open up for Mummy. That’s better. What a good baby girl!” I felt like such a baby, drinking from my bottle of warm milk while my Mummy lovingly tended to my every need. My insides had already been stretched wide by David’s huge monster, and the fresh Vaseline made the digital penetration painless and easy.
“Ooo Mama!” I burbled wetly in arousal, wriggling with excitement at the thought of Mummy fingering my pussy.

Mummy grinned down at my excited reaction, and slowly twirled her finger around in a full circle to check everywhere inside. “It doesn’t feel torn or sore,” she muttered in approval, before urging, “Let Mummy feel all the way inside, baby.” She released my ankles and I let my knees flop against my trembling chest. “Good girl! What a good baby girl you are! Open up wide for Mummy now, baby.” Mummy wrapped her other gloved hand all the way around my throbbing stiff clittie, and started sliding her curled fist up and down the slender length of my powder-coated shaft, using the silky talc as a fragrant lubricant. I clutched my half-empty bottle with my right hand and wrapped my free hand around my slender left thigh, dragging my knees back near my face and sluttishly opening myself wider for her thrilling advances.

“Oh Mama! That feelth tho good!” I babbled, spraying my bibbie with warm milk, staring up at my mother in wide-eyed wonder.
“Yes baby! I can see my little girl likes that! Open up, baby.” Mummy smiled down indulgently at me as I began to tremble and writhe in excitement. ‘Open wide for Mummy, Baby Jennie.” She slowly slid another slippery finger inside my puffy lips, and I gasped loudly in pleasure as I felt my naughty hole opening wider for her probing digits. “Ooo, good girl! But I don’t want you to let any more boys play with your pussy, baby girl,” Mummy cautioned me, as she slid two fingers all the way inside me to the last knuckle. I could only groan in response, my eyes almost rolling back in my head. “You’re too little. That’s naughty!” She spread her longest fingers as wide as she could, and swirled them around inside me until I moaned in delight.

“Ooo! Yeth Mama,” I submissively lisped in reply, my teeth clenched on the dripping silicon teat of my pink plastic baby bottle. “No more boyth,” I willingly agreed between slurps. I would have agreed to anything at that point. The powdery fist curled around my twitching shaft began to slide up and down, faster and faster. Her fingers tightened around my pulsating tool in a maddening, intoxicating rhythm until I squealed in passion. “Ooo Mama!”
But then Mummy unexpectedly added, “No, only Mummy and your Aunties can play with Baby Jennie’s pussy and her sweet little clittie, until she’s a bit more grown-up. Then if my pretty baby still wants to let boys touch her clittie or her pussy, Mummy will arrange a proper date one evening for her special little girl,” she assured me, her olive-green eyes twinkling at the prospect.

The thought of Mummy dressing me up like a beautiful grown-up girl and sending me out on a date with a boy to have sex, really blew my mind! My tiny sack tightened, preparing to unload its contents. “Ooo Mama! Mama!” I squealed. Bad baby juice began to surge up inside my twitching shaft. Mummy added a third finger to the ones already twisting and turning inside my gaping pussy, and I threw my feet in the air and drew my knees back towards my ears like a wanton little slut, crying, “Yeth Mama!”

“Yes Baby Jennie! Open that little hole right up for Mummy. Open right up, my naughty baby girl,” she encouraged me with a wicked leer, simultaneously pumping both ends with an expert touch. Her twirling fingers seemed to brush some magic spot deep inside me, and an electric jolt of excitement exploded from that special place. It surged through my body, making me bounce off the soft padded table like a cardiac patient having his heart jump-started. My heart was slamming against my ribs in a staccato rhythm. I was panting for breath, and suddenly the room lights began to strobe.

“Mama! Mama!” I cried on the brink of climax. “Oh Mama, I’m jutht a baby!” I thrust my bottle aside and squealed uncontrollably. Jolt after jolt of creamy jism exploded out of the tip of my swollen clittie. My feet thrashed in the air like an excited infant’s as I joyfully cried, “Mama!” Bad baby juice sprayed wetly over my tummy and splattered on my frilly bibbie, before Mummy curled her gloved fingers over the spurting eye. “I wanna be a bubba girl forever!” I shrieked in my high baby voice, before my trembling body collapsed back onto the change table. “Ga-ga! Goo-goo-goo-goo, goo-goo-ga!”

“Oh my baby. My poor little girl,” Mummy sadly commented before she could stop herself, frowning momentarily at my fixation on my babyfied state. She anxiously bit her plump bottom lip, but she wiped the sour expression from her face before I opened my eyes. She tried to smile encouragingly at me as she milked my clittie dry. I lay there twitching uncontrollably and moaning breathlessly as she carefully wiped my bottom clean again, before she removed her soiled gloves. Then she used a handful of moist baby wipes to clean up the sticky mess splattered over my shivering torso.

“Good girl. Good baby. What a precious baby girl,” Mummy lovingly crooned to me, babbling mindlessly as she wiped my tummy clean. “That’s my sweet baby girl. Let Mummy clean up all the bad baby juice.” She tut-tutted at the creamy mess I’d sprayed over my bibbie, and she unclipped it and tossed the soiled item in the nappy bucket beside the change table. “That’s better, isn’t it? Now upsy-daisy, sweetheart!” She gathered my ankles together with one hand and raised my feet high in the air, then bent my knees back so she could scrub my sensitive little hole again. This time it took her only a minute to wipe clean my swollen anal lips, and she kept my legs bent back as she dusted my botty cheeks and crack with powder.

I shivered and twitched with excitement when her fingers caressed the talc over my sensitive spots. She gently lowered my feet and coated my shrivelling clittie and trembling tummy in a fresh layer of talc, before rubbing the powder over my shivering loins with sure smooth hands. Mummy smiled down indulgently at me as she snugly pinned my thick cloth nappies around my slender hips. She covered them with some crackling yellow plastic panties, and they were so transparent, you could see every fold of my pink nappies underneath when she tucked in the tight elastic waist and leg bands.

I blissfully lay back with my eyes drifting closed in contentment while Mummy did everything for me, diapering me and dressing me like I was a completely helpless infant. I wallowed in infantile post-orgasmic bliss as she attended to my needs. She straightened the yellow lace frills on my sheer white anklet socks, and buckled my white patent Maryjanes on my feet. She sat me up, and I lazily slumped there with my eyes closed. She slipped a clean frock over my halo of blonde curls and fed my limp hands through the armholes. I didn’t see what I was wearing until I opened my eyes, when Mummy lifted me down from the change table. She stood me in front of the mirror behind the wardrobe door, and I staggered unsteadily as I examined my feminine reflection. I was wearing a sleeveless yellow gingham frock this time, with tiny yellow and white checks. It had two tiered, ruffled yellow layers bobbing above the too-short, lace-edged hemline. The crotch of my tightly-packed baby panties was clearly on display, even when I tried to stop wobbling and stand still.

Mummy stood behind me and placed her hands on my shoulders to steady me, watching my face in the mirror as she reminded me; “I know you won’t be able to control you bot-bot for the next few months, baby girl. Unfortunately, your wicked cousin Bonnie paralysed your poor little poo-poo hole at the salon. But there’s no reason you can’t learn to control your wee-wees like a big girl.” Even though she knew I was a teenager, she couldn’t stop herself from talking down to me like I was her sweet toddler girl. And gazing at my juvenile, feminine reflection in the mirror - who could blame her? I looked like a pretty six-year-old girl, except for the obvious nappies and baby panties bulging out from under the lace-edged hem of my cute yellow gingham frock.

She continued, “I intend keeping you in nappies until you are completely potty-trained - front and back - even if it takes months. I can’t have you wetting and pooping your panties like a hopeless toddler.” Then why was she talking to me like I was one? “But I want you to try and tell Mummy when you feel the need to go wee-wees or poo-poos. Alright, baby girl?” When I didn’t reply after a few moments, she gave my bare brown shoulders a quick shake to regather my attention. She finger-combed out my bobbing platinum curls while eyeing my blushing pink cheeks carefully. “Do you understand Mummy, Baby Jennie?” she demanded. My head drooped and I gazed at the floor. “I want you to tell me if you need to do number ones or number twos, and Mummy will sit you on the pot-pot.” She was talking down to me like I was a retarded pre-schooler, and I felt a surge of resentment well up inside me. “Okay, baby girl? Understand Mummy?”
“Yeth Mummy,” I grumpily responded, my bottom lip unconsciously poking out like a sulky toddler’s.

“Good girl. Mummy wants you to grow up and learn to use the toilet like a big girl. You can’t stay a baby forever.” I thought about Baby Pansy who was diapered 24/7, and I wondered if Mummy really knew what she was talking about. Maybe I could be a baby girl forever? “Don’t you want to grow up to be a big girl, Baby Jennie?” she insisted, watching my face intently.

I took so long to answer, I think she really started to worry. But I couldn’t help wondering if Mummy intended to cut off my clittie to turn me into a big girl? I had grown rather attached to it of late. Ever since I found it was useful for more than just warming my nappies, I really didn’t want to lose it! But instead of confessing my fears, I took the easy way out and childishly avoided a confrontation. “Yeth Mummy,” I finally agreed, “I wanna gwow up to be a big girl.” But I couldn’t hold her searching green-eyed gaze, and guiltily let my eyes drop to the carpet. “Can I have my dum-dumth, pweathe Mummy?” I timidly requested, to distract her from asking any more embarrassing questions. She shook her head in mild dismay, but gave me a thin-lipped smile and kindly licked the amber rubber teat to wet it for me before she popped it in my mouth. She clipped the dangling plastic chain to the round collar of my frock, and then took my hand to lead me downstairs.

I thought Mummy might relax the rules after my terrible ordeal, but when we reached the staircase she let go of my hand and glanced pointedly at the top step. Obedient to her will, I flopped down onto my puffy nappy bottom and slid my slippery plastic-sheathed rear down onto the next step. I bumped my way downstairs on my bot-bot like any normal toddler. Mummy didn’t offer me her hand when I reached the bottom, so I crawled after her towards the kitchen like a mindless nine-month-old. I didn’t realise how late it was until Mummy lifted me into my highchair and buckled me in. I glanced through the kitchen window and was surprised to see the sun already beginning to set. After she locked the steel tray in place, Mummy clipped a yellow bibbie around my neck bearing the embroidered script, ‘Mummy’s Little Nappy Messer.’ She couldn’t help smirking at the humiliating tell-tale message as she placed a plastic Barbie bowl full of warm brown paste on the pink tray in front of me.

“You start eating your din-dins by yourself like a big girl, sweetheart. Mummy is just going to pop next door and pick up your sister.” She slipped out through the back door and when the screen door slammed behind her, I searched the tray for a spoon. It was an exercise in futility. Of course there wasn’t one, and I resigned myself to awkwardly feeding myself with my fingers. I felt like such a baby, scraping the flavourless food into my mouth with my messy fingers. When I felt a hot spurt in my nappy, I instinctively relaxed and let my urine freely flow. I was trapped in my infantile highchair with no one to release me or put me on the potty. Instead I kept stuffing my face, perversely enjoying the thrilling heat rising around my hairless genitals.

I’d managed to scoop most of the tasteless concoction into my mouth by the time Mummy returned, clutching Angelica’s hand. My sister was babbling so fast her words were almost indecipherable. She bounced from foot to foot in excitement and her cornflower-blue eyes were wide from the effects of an intense sugar rush. Mummy led her straight past me in the highchair through the kitchen and into the sunroom. She set my hyperactive sister to changing her Barbie’s clothes with her tiny trembling fingers. My mother returned to the kitchen with her luscious red lips pursed in a disapproving thin line, shaking her head in dismay. “Angie won’t need anything to eat tonight. She’s filled up on sugar and soft drinks,” she noted with a snort of annoyance. She picked up the rubber-coated baby spoon she’d left lying on the bench and approached me in my pink steel highchair.

“Good baby!” Mummy praised me, when she saw I had already eaten most of my dinner. She smiled encouragingly and picked up the messy plastic Barbie bowl. She scraped out the remaining contents with the pink rubber-coated spoon, shovelling the last of the bland beige paste between my lips. “Eat up, baby girl. Almost finished.” She scooped up some of the bigger lumps from my bibbie, feeding them to me as well. “That’s right, baby. Eat it all up for Mummy. Mmm-mmm. Good girl! Yummy-scrummy!” She took away my empty bowl and returned with a folded paper serviette, and produced a fresh slice of birthday cake. It was cream-filled sponge cake with hot-pink icing. Mummy placed the slice on a flat plastic plate and slid it onto my highchair tray. “There you go, darling. Aunty Ellen sent over some of Daisy’s birthday cake for you, and she told me to tell you the girls apologised for laughing at you when you pooped your nappy. I explained to them that you really couldn’t help it, and Sally even offered to babysit you if I ever need to go out. Wasn’t that sweet of her?”

Sweet wasn’t the word I would have used! I couldn’t think of anything more embarrassing than being babysat by my cute thirteen-year-old, next-door neighbour. I imagined the humiliation of having my poopy nappies changed by my best female friend, who was roughly the same age as me, and shuddered at the shameful prospect. I picked up the cake and took a bite, and suddenly understood why my sister was so hyper. It was overpoweringly sweet and the cream was mock-cream, made from egg whites and spun sugar. The taste of strawberry-flavoured pink icing overlayed everything else. It was like eating an artificial strawberry that had been soaked in sugar, but I gobbled it down regardless. I didn’t care, as it helped wash away the awful taste of the bland baby food.

Mummy took ages to scrub my face and filthy hands clean with a warm soapy washer afterwards, tut-tutting in disgust at my messy baby ways. She had to give my splattered highchair tray a wipe-over too, before she handed me a bottle of warm milk. “You have a suck on your bottle in your highchair, baby girl,” Mummy cooed to me, gently tousling my curls. “I need to keep an eye on your sister for a little while.” She strode into the sunroom and I vaguely heard her chatting with Angelica. I could hear my sister’s rapid-fire high-pitched replies, although her excited babble was indecipherable to my ears. As I gulped down my warm milk I felt another burst of delicious heat inside my nappy, and impulsively relaxed and enjoyed the soothing warm flow.

I had almost finished my bottle when our front doorbell rang. I watched Mummy walking down the hallway to answer the door with a frown of apprehension. I heard a low murmur of voices coming down the hallway and to my surprise, Bonnie waddled into the kitchen a few moments later instead of Mummy. My cousin was still wearing the same blue dress she wore to the party, but I could tell by the way she walked that she must have recently had her wet nappy changed. At least she wasn’t wearing her toddler harness, leather mittens, or her restrictive ‘bad baby bonnet’ any longer, and her make-up had been freshly applied.

Bonnie smiled indulgently at the sight I made sitting in my ‘Disney Princess’ highchair, sucking on my pink baby bottle, with my filthy bibbie clipped around my neck. When I shyly lowered my bottle to greet her, she took the vessel from my hands and gently thrust the nipple back between your puffy pink lips. She tilted the base up high so the remaining contents spurted into my mouth. “Drink up, sweetie,” Bonnie crooned to me with a kind smile. “Finish your bottle like a good little baby girl, and I’ll take you upstairs for a little feed from my titties before I put you down for the night.” My heart leapt at her exciting words and I eagerly sucked harder on the clear silicon teat. I swiftly emptied my bottle.

“Your Mummy has taken Angie upstairs to put her in the bath and give her a wash, but don’t worry. I’m looking after you tonight, baby girl.” Bonnie dropped my empty bottle in the sink and then unlocked and raised the hinged tray out of my way. She used my bibbie to wipe clean my milk-stained lips and chin, then unclipped it and tossed it on the kitchen bench. Bonnie stepped behind my highchair to unfasten the seat belt, and when she had pulled it through the crotch strap and out of the way, she slid me forward on the deep padded seat and lifted me down. She took my hand and led me waddling out of the kitchen towards the staircase. “Come on, Baby Jennie,” she kindly urged me. “Come upstairs and you can have a little nurse, and then we’ll get you out of that wet nappy.” How did she know I was wet? I didn’t realise that Bonnie simply assumed I was always wet or dirty - or both - these days. Like a real baby, my nappies always needed changing.

I glanced sideways at her as she led me upstairs and I hesitantly asked, “What happened to David?” She sighed heavily and shook her head before replying.
“After she dragged him into the house, Mum took him into a secret room concealed over our garage. I swear I never knew it existed! The bookcase in the hallway leading to the garage slides aside on these hidden rollers, and there is a narrow staircase behind it.” She shook her head in wonder when she recalled the strange sight in her own home. “It leads upstairs to this huge room above our three-car garage. It’s set up like a big baby Nursery, with an open tiled bathroom at the far end - except there wasn’t any toilet.”

She briefly pondered the possible explanations for this, then glanced down sympathetically at me. “It’s a bit like your Nursery, Baby Jennie - only much bigger. You know, with a huge playpen, and a big cot, and a proper big baby change table and everything. There’s even a baby bouncer and a rocking horse made to hold a small adult! Anyway, I had to help her lock David’s cock in this weird Perspex chastity device when we got him upstairs. Mummy has a drawer full of the things.”

Bonnie shuddered with distaste at the memory of handling David’s limp equipment. “He wasn’t happy about it, but with his ankles hobbled and those horrid black mittens shackled to his chest, there wasn’t much he could do to resist. He was screaming and crying when mum locked it on, but you could barely hear a thing because of his gag.” Bonnie shook her head and grimaced in revulsion. “Those pump-up gags are horrible!” She led me along the landing and added, “You’ll see for yourself tomorrow morning, anyway. Mum is going to make him come over here first thing Monday morning to help change you and potty you, and get you ready to visit the doctor.” Her expression turned remorseful when she added, “I have to be here to help, too. Well, mostly I’m supposed to keep an eye on David, and make sure he does everything Mum has instructed him to do.”

We waddled into the nursery and she grabbed a bottle of baby oil from the shelf above the change table when we walked past. She grinned at my expression of wide-eyed excitement and led me straight over to the white wicker chair near the far corner. “Come on, baby girl. You can sit on Mama’s lap and have a nurse while I rub your little clittie.” I didn’t need to be asked twice! As soon as she was seated in the wicker rocking chair, I threw myself across her broad lap. “Did David really fuck you, baby girl?” Bonnie softly inquired as she rearranged my body over her plump womanly thighs, her voice full of concern. I nodded and sucked harder on my dummy-teat, too embarrassed to admit the truth to her. “You poor baby,” she clucked sympathetically. Her hand rested on my nappy crotch and began to rhythmically pat the front my noisy plastic panties. She unexpectedly asked, “Did you cum?” I thought about the wonderful way Mummy fingered my swollen pussy and milked me dry afterwards, but I knew that wasn’t what my cousin was talking about. I shook my head in the negative. “Would you like to?” I nodded enthusiastically, not daring to speak.

“Perhaps I can help you with that, my special little girl,” she whispered enticingly. Our baby panties rustled and crackled noisily as we settled into the familiar feeding position. After comfortably arranging the cushion under my head, Bonnie unfastened the top three plastic buttons of her baby-blue frock. I watched in fascination as she released her massive bosoms from the lacy white cups, and the front-fastening bra sprang out of the way either side of her heavy swaying titties. Her nipples already looked a little red and swollen, but nothing was going to deter me from feasting like a starving babe on those beautiful crinkled, red-brown caps.

My voluptuous cousin gave a groan that was part pleasure, part pain, when I greedily latched on to her stiff sore left nipple. “My Mum saw the nannycam recording of me breastfeeding you last night, Baby Jennie,” she whispered in my ear. I sucked even harder, making her shudder and whimper, but she didn’t push me away or tell me to stop. Instead Bonnie rearranged the pink cushion under my platinum curls to more comfortably support my head, and then she reached inside my tightly-packed baby panties and unfastened the right side of my damp nappy. “Mum said that seeing as I didn’t mind letting you suckle on my titties, I had to do it every day - if you wanted - until you are fully potty-trained.”

If I wanted? Of course I wanted! My mind whirled in excitement. I wondered if like Justine, Bonnie would start producing milk if I regularly suckled from her enormous E-cup boobies. Did Aunty Cath know that was a possible by-product of nursing regularly over several months? My well-informed Aunty had to know! I twitched and moaned in arousal at the thrilling prospect of breastfeeding properly from my cousin’s bountiful bosoms. She left open the two pink-capped pins in the outer layer of my nappy, and then opened the bottle of baby oil. She poured a generous layer onto her cupped right palm, and then carefully reached under my warm wet swaddling to grasp my pulsating little tool in her slippery fist. I twitched violently at her electrifying touch. “Good girl,” she moaned softly in approval. I sucked even harder, encouraged by her murmured endearments. “Ooo! Good baby! Suck nice and hard, Baby Jennie. Suck out all the milkies from Mama’s titty. Ohh!”

Her oily clenched fist slid up and down my throbbing wet shaft, and I groaned in excitement and grabbed her massive breast with both hands. I began to pump the soft fleshy globe with my curled fingers, like I was trying to force out her milk. I drew harder on the stiff teat, sucking it halfway down my throat, moaning and whimpering in infantile ecstasy. The vengeful part of my mind wondered if Aunty Cath had contacted her doctor friend to arrange to pick up the botox injections. I remembered her threat to immobilize Bonnie’s anal muscles for the next few months, like she did with me, and I wondered how my buxom domineering cousin would react to losing control of this most basic adult function.

Then I lost myself in her lush bosoms, pressing my face into her soft cushiony mammary and drawing the firm nubbled teat halfway down my throat. I imagined sucking down mouthful after mouthful of Bonnie’s sweet breast milk, and my pulsating tool pounded with excitement in her loving grasp. “What a good baby,” she whispered tenderly in my ear, cuddling me tightly to her abundant fleshy mounds. I snuffled for air, inhaling the delicious combined odours of her sweat, her perfume, and fragrant baby powder. Under the pillow I could feel Bonnie pressing and rubbing her plump womanly thighs together, and she let out an occasional muffled moan of arousal. I felt a strange tension building in my abdomen, and I tightened my tummy muscles and squeezed hard. All at once I could feel a huge fat log of firm poo-poos stretching my little hole wide, and the intense babyish feelings became overwhelming. I groaned passionately as the wonderful infantile sensations consumed me.

“Such a good little baby girl for Mama! Oh there you go!” She deftly slid the squirting tip of my pulsating clittie under the fluffy folds of my absorbent nappies. I moaned around the swollen nipple in my mouth as I relaxed completely. I let the bad baby juice safely spurt into my comfy terrycloth nappies, where it belonged. Bonnie let me keep nursing long after I climaxed. She pushed my face away from her sweaty breast after I stopped shaking with reaction, and I whimpered in complaint. But then she generously let me latch on to the other tender teat. Although from her excited moans, I knew she was enjoying our nursing session almost as much as me! She shuddered and whimpered to a quiet climax while I frantically sucked her swollen sensitive right cap, before she finally pushed my face away from her tender teat with a sigh of gratitude. The nipple slipped from my suctioning lips with a loud wet ‘plop’ and I fell back gasping for breath. After she stopped trembling, she clumsily refastened my nappy pins. It was just as well, because I flooded my nappies with fresh warmth well before she could finish clasping her bra and buttoning the front of her babydoll frock.

I was almost asleep when she carried me to the change table and sat me on my messy wet bot-bot. She cooed encouragingly to me as she undressed me and eased me onto my back. She deftly removed my baby panties without any help from me. She unpinned my drooping wet nappies and kindly assured me I wasn’t too messy as she collected the soiled nappy liners in the disposable soaker pad. She gently cleaned my poopy bottom and my shrivelling clittie, and scrubbed the damp powder from my loins. Even though her perfectly made-up face creased in disgust when she had to scrub the sticky poop from my bumcrack, she kept up a soothing litany of reassuring baby-talk the whole time. Her hands were sure and gentle as she massaged in the pleasantly perfumed baby powder, and I closed my eyes in bliss and relaxed completely under her expert touch. When I was safely diapered and some fresh pink baby panties were tucked in all the way around, my cousin sat me up and slipped a sheer pink babydoll nightgown over my head. The narrow lace-trimmed hem barely covered the waistband of my packed plastic panties, and it softly settled around my wide padded hips like a floaty pink cloud.

Bonnie finger-brushed out my tousled curls as I sleepily slumped against her massive bosom, completely exhausted by my frantic day of sexual activity. I yawned loudly between her soft cushiony breasts, and she smiled down affectionately at me before she carried me to my open steel crib. She placed me on my back on the crackling plastic-covered mattress, and I wriggled around contentedly in my fluffy dry nappy. She licked my dummy-teat and popped it between my parted lips, and clipped the plastic chain to the collar of my nightie. She flipped up the fluffy pink blanket to cover my chest, and then raised and locked the crib side. “See you in the morning, baby girl,” Bonnie lovingly crooned to me, but my eyes were already drifting closed.

My breathing slowed and deepened as I fell into an exhausted dreamless sleep. I didn’t even wake when a half an hour later I drenched my nappies again. I didn’t know Mummy quietly crept into my Nursery to check on me later, after she put Angie to bed. Her nose wrinkled and she sighed in despair when she caught a whiff of fresh poo-poo coming from my cot, but the dank aroma wasn’t overpowering. She leaned on the high crib railing and gazed down in concern at me as I occasionally muttered something unintelligible in my sleep, before noisily sucking harder on my soothing dum-dums once more. She placed a full baby bottle of water resting against the wooden end of my crib and gently stroked my platinum curls. Mummy sighed heavily again before she left the Nursery.

It was already late when I came to the next morning. I sat up in confusion, wondering what woke me, when I heard feminine voices drifting up from downstairs. My sodden nappies sweetly cradled my throbbing little clittie in a bath of warm urine. When I wriggled about on my bot-bot, I could feel a small squishy lump resting moistly between my cheeks. I gently rocked and rolled from side to side to make sure, and felt the sticky mess move with me. Yep! I was a dirty baby girl again, without even waking to poop. There was a pink baby bottle full of water lying beside the crib bars, and I picked it up and thrust the teat in my mouth, trying to identify the voices I could faintly hear from below.

Angelica came barrelling into my Nursery, beaming with pleasure when she saw I was awake. “Look, Baby Jennie! Look!” she cried, as she boldly raised the front of her yellow gingham frock to show off her new underwear. My sister was wearing a pair of yellow training panties with a pretty picture of Barbie’s face on the front. Even though they were made from a double layer of absorbent terry cotton, with an extra layer sewn in the gusset, they were proper big-girl panties - not pull-ups or baby diapers. My sister was growing up - while I was condemned to spending the next few months as a hopeless diapered baby girl. Angie dropped her skirt and giggled gleefully at my envious expression before she danced out of the room. I heard her running downstairs and calling out for Mummy as she headed for the kitchen.

A short time later I recognised Bonnie’s voice drifting up from the bottom of the staircase. She called out, “I understand, Aunty Isy. We’ll go upstairs and get Baby Jennie out of bed, clean her up and pop her on the potty, then bring her down for breakfast.” Mummy added something I couldn’t quite make out, but then I heard the sound of heavy footsteps slowly climbing the stairs. My pigtailed cousin looked gorgeous when she waddled into the Nursery, despite the slightly haunted look in her wide golden eyes. She smiled bravely at me and fluttered her long black lashes, and I noticed she was wearing a full face of make-up as usual. She wore a brief lemon-yellow frock with a row of tiny pearl buttons running from the shirred waistline under her massive bosom, all the way up to the high round neckline. The cotton frock had a short flared hem, with a wide band of white lace that brushed the tops of her plump womanly thighs. Her juvenile outfit had puffy sleeves cuffed with elastic above the elbow, with a narrow band of frilly white lace edging the collar and cuffs. The lace trim around the brief hemline was wider and frillier, but I caught a glimpse of Bonnie’s yellow plastic panty crotch peeping through the sheer lace with her every long-legged stride.

I could tell by the way Bonnie waddled that my gorgeous cousin had been heavily diapered this morning, and I wondered if her shiny yellow baby panties were locked on, as usual. Her long chestnut hair had been styled into two high juvenile pigtails, secured in place with hair elastics and some wide yellow satin ribbon. The ribbons were tied in big floppy bows with the ends dangling halfway down her back. Even though they were set high on her head, the ends of her long fluffy pigtails flopped over the shoulders of her brushed cotton frock like the ears of a Cocker Spaniel, almost reaching her high proud bosoms. On her feet she wore white anklet socks with wide yellow lace trim, and a pair of gleaming black-patent Maryjanes. Despite her juvenile outfit, my buxom seventeen-year-old cousin couldn’t help looking like a sexy teenager dressed as a pretty young girl. My attention was suddenly drawn to the black leather reins she had clenched in one trailing fist.

“Come on, Daphne,” Bonnie sharply ordered, yanking hard on the slender black reins. Daphne? David stumbled into sight behind my voluptuous teenage cousin. The first thing I noticed was that his fearful blue eyes were red-rimmed from crying. The teat slipped from my lips as my jaw dropped in amazement, and I let my sloshing bottle fall abandoned to the mattress. The black ‘bad baby bonnet’ was strapped tightly under his chin, and the mouth-filling gag had obviously been inflated to keep him silent. The pump piece dangled from the mouth strap on a short rubber tube, bouncing distractingly below his chin as he awkwardly hobbled into the Nursery.

My fifteen-year-old neighbour was wearing an unattractive, well-worn, short black nylon smock dress. It looked like something a maid would wear, but it was his menacing black ‘Bad Baby’ toddler harness, mittens and ankle cuffs that really caught my eye. His bare legs were covered with a mass of wiry blonde hair, and they looked so untidy poking out under the brief hemline of his poorly-fitting, shapeless frock. I could feel the embarrassment radiating from him in palpable waves, and his cobalt-blue eyes darted everywhere around the room - except in my direction.

Once they were inside the Nursery, Bonnie dropped the reins and toddled over to the side of my crib with a warm smile of greeting. “Good morning, Baby Jennie! Did you have a good sleep, darling?” I moved my hand away from my nappy crotch where I had been unconsciously patting my swollen clittie beneath the clinging warm layers. I sleepily smiled up at her and nodded, and she unlocked the crib rail and lowered it with a loud metallic ‘clang!’ “Sniff-sniff! Hmm,” Bonnie commented with a thin-lipped smile for me, as she reached in to pat my sodden nappy front. Her cupped fingers made that familiar wet sound on my tautly-stretched plastic panties, and her smile widened when she felt the warmth of my sodden nappies underneath. “I think some special little girl has made a big poo-poo parcel in her panties this morning for her Aunties to clean up. Haven’t you, baby girl?” I nodded again and felt my cheeks turn pink with shame - but then I remembered. It wasn’t my fault. Bonnie had stolen my ability to control my anal sphincter. I couldn’t help messing my nappies like a helpless little baby. I had to smile at the realisation, and I popped my dummy teat into my mouth to cover my amusement.

“Come on, darling,” Bonnie cooed, leaning in to slip her hands under my armpits. She hoisted me into the air and carried me over to the white wicker rocking chair. My stiff clittie pulsated with excitement when she set me on my bare feet while she seated herself. I watched her as she sat, and she couldn’t prevent the brief lace-trimmed hem of her short toddler frock from sliding up over her slippery plastic panties. Her bulging yellow baby panties were completely transparent, and underneath I could see the crotch of her pink cloth nappies was already dark with urine. When Bonnie noticed the direction of my gaze, she smiled briefly. She shyly tugged her lacy hem down in a futile attempt to cover her embarrassing infantile underwear. When she realised her efforts were fruitless, she gave up and sat back, then flicked her long chestnut pigtails back over her shoulders.

My buxom cousin grabbed my wide padded hips to lift me onto her lap, and glanced at David skulking near the doorway. “Daphne!” she snapped at him, “Get over here next to me. You’re going to help with the next bit, remember?” What little I could see of David’s handsome face above the wide black leather mouthpiece was flushed red with shame, and he awkwardly stumbled over to the rocking chair in short hobbled steps, the chain between his ankle cuffs clinking quietly inside the plastic tube. He was wearing black sneakers and short black socks, too, but nothing feminine. I doubted my cousins had any shoes in their vast wardrobes capable of fitting his enormous feet.

Bonnie lifted me onto her bare thighs and settled me on my side facing her, so my curled legs rested on one wide wicker arm. She pulled the pink cushion from behind her back and moved it under my head. When she had everything arranged to her satisfaction, she turned to David standing beside the rocking chair near my feet. She curled her index finger at him, indicating he should step closer. “Bend down so I can reach your mittens, Daphne,” she brusquely commanded. When he obeyed, she unclipped his mittens from the harness D-rings first, then made him hold out his hands in front of her so she could unbuckle the black leather restraints. They hadn’t been locked on this morning.

I could tell by the look in his eyes that he was grateful to have the restrictive leather mittens removed, but I noticed a flash of agony when he tried to unclench his cramped fists. I winced in sympathy. He moaned in pain when he slowly uncurled his stiff fingers, but the sound was effectively muffled by the inflated gag in his mouth. Bonnie began unfastening the tiny pearl buttons down the front of her dress as she casually commanded, “Lift up your skirt, Daphne, and show Baby Jennie what you’re wearing underneath.” My eyes darted from where Bonnie was unbuttoning the top of her dress to David’s trembling fingers. He slowly reached down to clumsily grasp the lace-edged hem of his baggy black smock dress. Despite his obvious embarrassment, the musclebound youth couldn’t stop staring at my cousins bountiful bosom as she slowly unbuttoned the bodice of her dress.

“Do as you’re told, Daphne! Skirts up!” There was a sharp warning edge to Bonnie’s tone that cut him like a knife. David flinched like he’d been slashed. He gradually raised his slightly flared black smock up to his waist, and my eyes widened when I spied his feminine underwear. He was wearing a pair of well-worn cream lace panties. They were probably white originally, but had yellowed with age. They were completely sheer, and I could clearly see every one of David’s curly blonde pubes underneath. But my eyes were drawn to the chastity device locked onto his genitals. His shrivelled penis was trapped inside a strange clear plastic shell, and it looked like a squashed pink slug. It looked like part of it wrapped around the top of his ball sack, as well as confining the head of his tool between two flat Perspex plates. Everything looked awfully crushed in there, and I wondered how uncomfortable it was? I didn’t yet realise how quickly mere discomfort could be transformed into blinding pain.

“See, baby girl?” Bonnie lovingly crooned to me. “David’s nasty thingy is all safely locked away now. It can’t possibly hurt you,” she reassured me, as though I might have been frightened by the mere sight of his tool. She reached over and firmly swatted his trapped penis through his transparent nylon panties, making him whimper and fold at the waist and knees. “Stand up straight!” she barked at him. The poor boy struggled to remain upright, air whistling through his nostrils. “Get your hands away from it,” she sternly commanded, swatting his trembling paws away from where they had instinctively dropped to protectively covered his crotch. “David can’t stand up to pee any more, you know? He has to sit to pee now, like a girl. That’s why mum decided to re-name him ‘Daphne’.” She giggled in derision at his mortified expression. “Now turn around Daphne, and show baby the rear view,” she ordered, a hint of malicious satisfaction creeping into her voice.

David slowly turned his back to us, moving clumsily due to the restrictive hobble chain locked between his ankle cuffs. “Lift up your dress and bend over, you bad baby,” Bonnie sternly commanded him. I noticed David’s large hands were shaking when he reached back to flip up the rear of his frock, and he bent over slightly. His panties were completely transparent across the seat, except for the padded gusset between his slightly splayed thighs. There was a shiny round black disc about three inches in diameter stuck deeply in his bum crack, and my eyes widened in amazement.

“What’th that?” I asked, pointing at the strange latex object trapped between his pale hairy buttocks.
“That’s a butt-plug,” Bonnie replied, smiling broadly at my gasp of wonder. “After Ruth dropped David at our place early this morning, the first thing mum did was give him a clean-out in the bathtub. She shoved a rubber hose up his butt and filled him with hot water.” She shuddered delicately in disgust. “I’m glad I didn’t have to help with that bit. Yuck-spuck! Anyway, after mum figured he was completely empty, she cleaned him up, dried him off, and strapped him face-down on the change table in the Nursery. Then she called me in to assist her.”

She grinned in sadistic delight as she recounted the next bit. “I had to hold his bumcheeks apart while Mum shoved this weird dumbbell-shaped latex tool up his arse.” She saw my horrified expression and cooed reassuringly, “Of course mum greased him up first with some Vaseline. His butt-plug is only about four inches long, and the thin part is only as thick as your little clittie when it’s all hard and stiff.” She ignored my instantly mortified expression and turned to sneer at the muscular youth shamefully exposing his panty bottom to us. She snapped, “Pull your dress down and stand up straight. Now turn around towards me, Daphne.”

When David slowly shuffled around to face us, his cheeks were crimson with shame above the mouth strap. I wondered how painful it was to carry a firm rubber tool lodged between your buttcheeks for hours, especially one wedging your anal sphincter permanently open? “Does it hurt?” I asked, forgetting that the gagged boy was incapable of responding. Bonnie chuckled at my forgetfulness.

“Daphne can’t answer you, baby. She’s still wearing her bad baby bonnet. But I was going to take it off, anyway. Lean down closer to me, Daphne,” she ordered him. When he lowered his face close to hers, she released the valve and air gushed out of the gag. Then she tilted his chin up so she could unbuckle the snug black bonnet, and he sighed with relief when she removed the deflated rubber gag. He gratefully licked his dry lips and worked his jaw around, trying to loosen muscles that had been held in one position far too long. Bonnie tossed the bad baby bonnet on the floor and insisted, “Now answer Baby Jennie, Daphne. Does that thing up your arse hurt?”

His head drooped in shame as he softly replied, “Yes, Miss Bonnie. Not as much as when your mum- Mistress Cath - first shoved it inside me. But it’s still pretty sore,” he admitted with a wince. He couldn’t help rolling his narrow hips and wiggling his bottom as he made his complaint, and I smiled at his unconscious feminine movements.
“How come it doesn’t fall out?” I asked in wonder. Bonnie sniggered and David looked even more embarrassed, if that were possible.

“The end inside him is about twice as wide as the end poking out of his botty, baby girl,” Bonnie cheerfully replied. “From the degree of difficulty involved in shoving the fat end inside his tight little butt-hole, I doubt it will be coming out any time soon.” Even though David must have already been well aware of his fate, his burning face fell in humiliation when Bonnie informed me of the details of his punishment. She finished unbuttoning her dress and folded the lace-edged flaps out of the way either side of her entrancing cleavage. I admired the fleshy swell of her bountiful bosoms where they surged over the tops of her snug-fitting cream satin brassiere.

David’s wide blue eyes were glued to the sight of those massive mammaries, and smiling Bonnie seemed acutely aware of his hungry gaze. I watched entranced from my position over her lap as she reached up to where the shoulder strap joined the stiff satin cup. She unfastened a tiny white plastic clip first. As she folded the lightly padded cup down out of the way, I realised Bonnie was wearing a proper nursing bra, like Justine had worn at the church Nursery for me yesterday. Her huge left breast popped free, sagging heavily from her chest. David moaned again and bent slightly at the waist, but he managed to keet his hands away from his groin this time. Bonnie snickered at his growing discomfort as she cradled her heavy teat in one hand, and she slipped her other arm under my head. Her succulent russet nipple was already crinkling erect with excitement, and I instinctively cupped one hand over my stiff clittie. I pressed the warm soggy cloth harder against my pounding tool as Bonnie steered the stiffening bud towards my eagerly parted, puffy pink lips.

She cupped her left hand under my head and tilted my face towards her breast, steering my mouth closer to that tantalising morsel of sweet woman flesh. I gave a muffled cry of delight when I sucked her delectable firm bud deep into my mouth. Bonnie moaned too, as her nipples were still slightly tender from my enthusiastic breastfeeding session the night before. I heard another moan from beside the rocking chair, definitely the sound of someone in pain. I glanced past the quivering fleshy mound that mostly blocked my view, and saw David bending forward. He was clutching his groin with both hands and writhing in agony. He was growing excited watching me suckle from Bonnie’s bounteous bosoms, and every time his huge tool began to swell, the sensitive head was painfully crushed inside the hard Perspex casing of his chastity cage.

Bonnie ignored his quiet whimpers and moans, and cooed encouragingly to me. “Suck hard, baby girl. Suck hard on Mama’s nip-nip like a good little baby.” I snuffled against her warm soft flesh, and when she released her grip on her breast, I grabbed the massive mammary and began pumping it with my fingers. “Ooo, good girl! What a good baby girl,” Bonnie moaned, her golden eyes drifting closed as she relished the tantalising sensations of someone greedily feasting on her sensitive swollen nipple. I could feel her rubbing her plump thighs together under my head, and I wondered if she was enjoying the feel of her warm wet nappies moistly pressing against her sensitive baby-smooth vulva.

I tried to ignore David’s distressed whimpers and closed my eyes, concentrating on suckling properly from Mama’s titty like a good little baby girl. I felt a surge of excitement when Bonnie’s right hand came to rest on top of my crackling baby panties. She massaged the front of my warm wet nappy, pressing the soggy cloth against my pounding hard-on. I wondered if she was going to slip her hand inside my nappy and stroke me to another amazing climax. But she merely continued to stimulate me through my clinging wet cloth, which was almost as good anyway. I must have suckled for about ten minutes before Bonnie quietly ordered me to stop. She regrettably released her grip on my turgid tool to unfasten the other bra cup, and then she eased me down till my parted lips were in line with her right breast.

I didn’t wait for her to slip the nipple into my mouth this time. I impulsively grabbed the blue-veined fleshy mound and wrapped my greedy lips around her luscious stiff nipple, drawing the russet cap deep into my mouth in my eagerness. I moaned in excitement when Bonnie’s hand returned to cup my swollen clittie, massaging me through my pink plastic panties. She squeezed me gently through my drenched cloth nappies until I moaned in arousal around her slippery wet teat. When she was certain I was as hard as I’d ever been, she softly ordered, “Pull down her panties in front, Daphne.” Focused on her beautiful breast, I didn’t realise she was talking about my baby panties, until I felt him tug down the snug elastic waistband over my bulging wet crotch. “Keep sucking, baby girl,” she cautioned me, when I was momentarily distracted by David’s shaky hands. I tried to ignore his fumbling fingers when he removed the two pink-headed stainless-steel pins clasping the right side of my nappy. I kept my eyes closed and concentrated on tonguing Mama’s sweet succulent nipple harder against the roof of my mouth like an obedient little baby.

David drew the right flap of my dirty nappy aside and lowered the pee-damp front, until my stiff clittie sprang free from the comforting soggy warmth. His actions unintentionally released a cloud of aromatic gases from my soiled diaper, which slowly wafted up to my nose. I grunted carelessly at the familiar soothing scent of my wee-wees and poo-poos, and buried my face deeper into the warm feminine mound that filled my world. “Go on, Daphne,” Bonnie softly commanded, as if she didn’t want to disturb her busily feeding infant. “You know what you have to do.”
“But she’s dirty,” he whined in complaint.
“I don’t care!” Bonnie snapped. “You made her do it, and now it’s your turn. Get to work!” I shuddered in excitement when I felt David’s huge calloused fingers curl around my throbbing wet tool, but I was completely unprepared for what was to follow.

Suddenly the head of my swollen little clittie was engulfed in amazing wet warmth, and I gasped around the nipple in my mouth at the unbelievable sensations. “Keep sucking, Baby Jennie,” Bonnie softly urged me. Even as I obeyed, my startled eyes flew open as I tried to peer down at what was happening around my groin. David was leaning over me with his face near my smelly nappy crotch, and his lips were wrapped around the head of my swollen little rod! When he sucked my throbbing clittie into his hot wet mouth, I almost swooned at the thrilling sensations.

“Good girl, Daphne,” Bonnie encouraged him, and I could feel her pressing her thighs together with more urgency. She reached out her right hand and gently yet firmly pushed down on the back of his head. David swallowed the length of my tiny tool until his nose was touching my hairless pee-damp tummy. I briefly wondered how bad it smelled down there. But then he licked the underside of my sensitive swollen head and I didn’t care any more. I gasped and gurgled wetly around Bonnie’s huge stiff nipple, wriggling and writhing in excitement. It was the most astounding feeling I had ever experienced!

Bonnie curled her fingers in David’s short red-blonde hair, and his head began to bob up and down. Then his tongue started tickling the sensitive underside of my clittie, just below the head. The sensations of his tongue rasping across my frenulum as his lips tightened around my shaft were absolutely mind-blowing! I never imagined it was possible to reach such heights of pleasure, and abruptly realised why boys loved having their cocks sucked. The feeling was sensational! “Keep sucking on Mama’s titty, Baby Jennie,” Bonnie gently reminded me. I grasped her teat tighter between my clutching kneading fingers, and drew harder on her swollen erect bud. “Mmm, good girl. That’s it, baby. You keep feeding from Mama while Daphne sucks all the bad baby juices out of your little clittie. Ooo, good girl! What a good baby girl!” Her voluptuous hips began to rock and roll on the seat, and under my head I could feel her thrusting her pussy into the warm wet folds of her nappy.

This was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to me in my short life. My attention was divided between the swollen teat in my mouth and the hot wet mouth wrapped around my throbbing stiff clittie. Bonnie clutched my head tighter to her bosom with her left hand, ramming my face into that wonderfully soft cushiony flesh as she began to passionately grunt and groan. Her approaching climax seemed to trigger my own. I whimpered and snuffled against her luscious warm breast, overcome with emotion. There was hardly any warning when the bad baby juice exploded out of my clittie. One second I was revelling in the unbelievably erotic sensations; the next moment it was like a bomb went off somewhere inside my body.

“Oh baby! Baby! Ohhhh!” Bonnie groaned, and then her whole body stiffened and tensed as her orgasm swept her away. I heard a crackle of bowel gas emanating from her plastic panties underneath my head, and then she shuddered and relaxed completely, moaning quietly in relief. Did Bonnie just poop her nappies? Jolt after jolt of creamy jism erupted from the tip of my pounding tool, but I didn’t have to worry about making a mess this time. David moaned in alarm when he felt me spurting across his tongue and down his throat, but Bonnie’s hand on the back of his head prevented him from pulling away. He accepted the inevitable and bravely kept his lips locked around the pulsating crown, and he kept on sucking. He swallowed every drop of my bad baby juice and by the time I regained my breath, I had to rip my swollen pink lips from Bonnie’s sweaty breast and beg him to stop.

“No more! Pweathe David? Pweathe thtop!” I begged, panting for breath. I grunted with relief when she relaxed her grip on David’s hair and his face drew back. My shrinking clittie popped free of his suctioning mouth. “Ahhh!” I lay over Bonnie’s lap like a freshly-landed mullet, twitching and writhing uncontrollably in her grasp. She inhaled a deep shuddering breath, sighed with relief, and then giggled breathlessly at my expression of stunned amazement. David stepped back, his mouth writhing in horror, but he wouldn’t look at Bonnie or me. He suddenly seemed fascinated by the pattern on the Nursery carpet. My flushed-face cousin carefully tucked my shrinking clittie under the cooling front of my wet nappies, pulled up my pink plastic panties, and then gathered me into her arms.

“Let’s get you out of that dirty wet nappy. Shall we, baby girl?” She ignored David for the moment and climbed to her feet with me in her arms, grunting with effort, and carried me over to the change table. I could detect a hint of poo-poo coming from Bonnie’s crotch now, and the musty-fruit scent of her fresh faeces was different to the dank aroma coming from my dirty nappy. She acted as though nothing untoward had happened, so I certainly didn’t make any comment. I wondered if David could tell that we were both messy big babies? “Daphne can change your poopy nappy this morning,” she suggested, with a pointed glance at the embarrassed boy in the shapeless black frock.

David shuffled over to the foot of the change table, wiping his cum-stained lips with the back of one hand and screwing up his handsome face in disgust. I popped my dummy teat back in my mouth and sucked hard, watching him warily as he flipped up the front of my sheer pink cotton nightie. He pulled down my glistening pink plastic panties, tossed them in the nappy bucket, and unpinned my dirty wet nappy. When he lowered the front flap, the stench of my recent soiling escaped to fill the room. David screwed up his nose and moaned in revulsion. From a few feet away Bonnie sternly cautioned him, “Not one word of complaint, Daphne! Or that bad baby bonnet goes straight back on!” His eyes widened in fear and he instantly clamped his mouth shut, pressing his generous lips into a hard thin line.

Bonnie instructed him from a distance as he removed the sodden disposable soaker pad, collected the poopy liners and rolled them up inside. He slid my soiled nappies down between my legs and wiped my dirty crack again and again until he was certain I was clean back there, and then he tended to my front. He was unusually gentle when he wiped clean my shrivelled clittie and wrinkled sack, and he tossed the dirty wipes into the used soaker pad, too. Then he taped it closed and tied the heavy wet bundle in a scented nappy sack, as instructed, and tossed everything in the bin. He dumped my sodden poopy nappies in my diaper pail, and then sat me up on my bare bot-bot.

David removed my floaty pink nightie and then carried me naked into the en-suite bathroom, where my pink potty-chair sat waiting for me in the middle of the white tiled floor. He leaned down and slid my bare bum into the low seat, tucked my limp clittie under the front scoop, then threaded the waist belt around me and buckled it in place. Bonnie watched him with eagle eyes as he performed the necessary ritual, and she gave him the barest nod of approval when he stood and faced her. “Alright Daphne, come with me. You can take the baby’s nappy bucket downstairs and empty it in the washing machine while Baby Jennie has a little sit on her potty.”

As he meekly shuffled past her back into the Nursery, Bonnie cooed to me, “Will you be okay here for a few minutes by yourself, Baby Jennie? I just have to pop downstairs and find out what your mother wants you to wear to your doctor’s appointment. Okay, sweetie?” I simply sucked harder on my dum-dums and nodded by way of reply, and Bonnie tossed me a smile of approval before she disappeared from the room.

Because I had only recently wet and soiled my nappies, there was nothing left inside me to push out into my potty. I patiently sat there for about ten or fifteen minutes before Bonnie came back to release me. She shook her head n disappointment at my empty potty, but didn’t say a word as she scrubbed my bottom and clittie with a warm soapy washer. When she crouched down beside me the smell of her soiling grew stronger, but she gave no indication that it troubled her. Maybe she was getting used to messing her nappies - just like me. She dried me off and took my hand to lead me back to the change table. Bonnie was the most efficient babysitter I’d ever had! Within minutes I was powdered, diapered, and dressed in some fresh pink plastic panties. I noticed there were two outfits hanging from the railing of my crib. There was the sleeveless yellow gingham frock I’d been wearing before bedtime last night, and a new pair of baby-blue satin shortie overalls I’d never seen before.

When Bonnie sat me up on my puffy padded bottom, she pointed to the clothes hanging from the cot side. “Which outfit would you like to wear today, baby girl? Your Mummy said you could choose.” I looked at the satin overalls with a doubtful expression. They were shorter than my pink drill shortalls, and the leg holes had elasticised ruffles that would cling tightly to my bare thighs. The high bib front had a little pocket - I assumed to hold my dum-dums - and had a cartoon drawing of a crawling baby embroidered on the front. The elasticised shoulder straps were shirred with feminine ruffles, and there were several frothy rows of white lace across the seat, too. I knew the juvenile baby-blue outfit would show off every bulge of my bulky cloth nappies, and so I pointed to the yellow gingham frock I’d been wearing yesterday. ‘Alright, darling,” Bonnie crooned in approval, “let’s put you in the pretty yellow dress.”

She slid my white anklet socks with the wide yellow lace frills on my feet, and buckled my black-patent Maryjanes in place before she lifted me down from the change table. “Come on, baby girl,” she cooed, taking my hand. “Come downstairs and I’ll fix you a yummy breakfast.” I was pleased when she kept hold of my hand, letting me walk downstairs like a big girl, and she escorted me waddling happily into the kitchen. Mummy was sitting at the kitchen bench eating a bowl of cereal, and Angie was in her booster seat beside her finishing off a bowl of porridge. Both of them turned to smile at me when Bonnie grabbed me around the waist and slid me into my highchair.

“Good morning, Baby Jennie,” Mummy brightly greeted me, but her smile didn’t reach her calculating olive-green eyes. “Didn’t she want to wear those new stretch-satin shortalls your mother made for her?” she asked Bonnie.
“No, your little baby girl would rather go to the doctor’s in a pretty dress, it seems,” my smirking cousin informed my mother as she buckled me in. She returned to the front and lowered and locked the steel tray in place.
“That’s a shame. Cath spent most of last weekend making them for her. Oh well, she can wear them another time. Did she use her potty this morning like a big girl?” Mummy hopefully asked. She sighed heavily in disappointment when Bonnie shook her head in the negative.

I sniffed in annoyance, thinking, ‘Why didn’t Mummy ask me?’ But then I remembered. Oh that’s right. Because I’m just a baby. I could see Daphne - David - through the kitchen window. He was in our back yard hanging up my freshly laundered nappies and baby panties on the line to dry. Then I thought, ‘Aunty Cath made the shortie overalls for me last weekend? I hadn’t even started potty-training last weekend.’ That was my first hint that my Aunty and my mother suspected I would fail all along. I sat there with my mind whirling in confusion as Bonnie clipped a clean bibbie around my neck and then spooned some warm porridge between my slack parted lips. My yellow bibbie bore the humiliating inscription, ‘I’m a Sissy Pissy Cry-baby.’ I chewed and swallowed mindlessly, oblivious to my babysitter’s crooned words of encouragement.

When Angie drained her purple sippy-cup of juice, Mummy lifted her out of her booster seat and told her to go out in the backyard and play. “And tell Daphne when she’s finished hanging everything on the line, she’s to come back inside, put the basket away, and see me for further instructions. Alright, honey?”
“Yes Mummy,” Angie chirped in reply, before she danced outside to tease the embarrassed youth.
“I’m going upstairs to shower and change, Bonnie. When baby has finished her bottle, take her upstairs and put her on the potty again, will you? I don’t want her soiling her nappies at the doctor’s office if we can avoid it.”
“Yes Aunty Isy,” Bonnie dutifully replied, as she pressed the teat of my bottle to my lips.
“Oh, and dress her in some yellow plastic panties or her yellow rumba panties, will you? Those pink baby panties don’t really go with her outfit.
“Yes Ma’am.”

When we were alone in the kitchen, I hesitantly asked, “Bonnie? Did you poop your nappy?”
She blushed furiously before replying. “Yes,” she softly responded, and her golden eyes dropped to the floor in embarrassment.
“Did it happen while you were cumming?”
She nodded, her cheeks scarlet with shame. “I can’t control myself any more. Mum had a doctor friend of hers come to visit last night - with a bunch of Botox injections.” She didn’t tell me her mother had shoved a frozen popsicle up her arse for ten minutes first, to numb and relax her anal sphincter, but she bitterly complained, “She used about ten injections on my arsehole - not four, like I used with you. I won’t be able to stop shitting myself for months.” I thought a tad unkindly, ‘Welcome to the club, sweetheart!’

After I finished my bottle of watered-down orange juice, Bonnie carefully scrubbed my lips and hands with a warm soapy washer, and then released me from the highchair restraints. She unclipped my grubby bibbie and tossed it on the bench, reattached my dummy chain to the lacy collar of my frock, then lifted me down. I felt grateful when she clutched my hand and let me waddle into the hallway towards the staircase, and she didn’t make me crawl upstairs, either. We walked straight through the Nursery into the bathroom, and Bonnie made me stand in front of my potty-chair and hold up my yellow gingham frock while she unpinned my nappies and tugged them down, along with my crackling pink baby panties.

“Oh Baby Jennie! Did you wet your nappy already?” Bonnie cried, as the warm wet bundle slid down between my legs. There was no use denying it. The evidence was there for all to see. Once again my bladder had unleashed without my being aware of it. I really was as helpless as a baby. She shook her head in dismay as she sat me in the low pink seat and threaded my limp clittie under the pink plastic scoop in front. ‘I’ll have to get a fresh nappy ready for you after you finish sitting on the potty. We can’t send you to the doctor’s in a wet nappy, baby girl.” She slid the seatbelt around my tummy and buckled me in, and then left me to my own devices while she returned to the Nursery. I’d almost forgotten - Mummy was taking me to the doctor this morning to be checked for any sexual diseases. I’d have to tell more people what happened to me. And they would see my in my nappies and toddler frock, too.

I sat there alone for a few minutes, staring down at the humiliating wet nappies bunched between my ankles, recalling how I got myself into this bizarre situation. It all seemed to start only two weeks ago, when I made fun of Angie’s first attempts at potty-training. Now I was the one who needed toilet-training. I wondered if I would ever be properly potty-trained, and contemplated my future. Daddy had told me he would get in contact with me, and I could go and live with him. He told me I could grow up to be a man, if I wanted. Did I? I didn’t think so! I wanted to be a girl! But what kind of girl did I want to be? Mummy wanted me to grow up to be a big girl, but was that what I wanted? I didn’t want her to cut off my clittie! She said I couldn’t remain a baby forever - but Baby Pansy could.

Baby Pansy - my real father - had offered to let me stay at her place, with her Nanny. Maybe I could ask her about that, when she takes me to meet her sisters at the family law firm. Maybe I could be a sweet baby girl forever, just like her. So many choices! It was all so confusing! I shuffled my feet, my thick pink plastic panties crackling distractingly around my ankles. Decisions, decisions! ‘I’m too young to be making such serious, life-altering decisions,’ I thought a tad resentfully, shoving my soothing dummy-teat back between my puffy pink lips. I sucked hard on the amber rubber teat, seeking the comfort it usually brought ‘After all, I’m just a little baby. I’m a sweet little baby girl named Baby Jennie. Aren’t I?’

The End

That's all folks! I hope you enjoyed this epic, erotic, sissy-baby story. Please leave any comments here. I love to know what my readers think.
Hugs from Baby Jennie