Jennie's Potty-Training chapter 4

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.

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Hugs from Baby Jennie

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