Jennie's Potty-Training chapter 22

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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."
"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.

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Hugs from Baby Jennie

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