Synopsis. When Aunty Cath learns from her sister that David raped Baby Jennie, she decides to set a trap to catch the sexual predator.
Chapter 41. Truth Will Out
Cath produced a pair of familiar baby-pink leather mittens and turned to her frowning teenage daughter. She ordered the sullen girl to raise the front of her baby-blue frock. My Aunty slipped one finger inside the tight elastic leg band between Bonnie’s legs and probed the crotch of her drooping nappy. Cath grimaced in disgust when she felt the warm wet cloth beneath the thick plastic panties and she chided the poor teenager in condescending baby talk.
“Oh Baby Bonnie! Your nappy is drenched already, little one! Deary me, what a wet baby girl you are!” Her tone and manner indicated she had re-established her dominant maternal role. “Mummy will have to change that nappy soon so my big baby girl doesn’t get a rash. Hands out please, Baby Bonnie.” We all recognised it was an order, not a request. The tall voluptuous brunette hovered over her pigtailed daughter, using her impressive height to intimidate the wet diapered teen. My buxom cousin looked ready to protest, but she wilted under her mother’s unwavering emerald glare. Bonnie passively held up her hands and compliantly curled up her fingers, allowing her mother to slip the restrictive soft leather mittens in place.
When Aunty Cath stood right next to her cowering daughter in her towering black boots, the height difference was amazing! Despite her mammoth bosoms, Bonnie looked like a pre-teen child compared to her tall Amazonian mother in her exotic thigh-high boots. It took less than a minute for Cath to tightly buckle both leather mittens around her daughter’s wrists, and then she walked into the dining room. When she returned, she was holding out my cousin’s stiff white toddler harness, and Cath slipped it over the girl’s bowed head and fed her limp mittened fists through the appropriate loops. She stepped behind her daughter to buckle the leather harness in place about her torso, and when she returned to the front, she gave the wide diamante-encrusted chest strap under my cousin’s lush bosom a hard tug, making sure it was well secured.
Aunty Cath didn’t bother locking the wrist straps of Bonnie’s baby mittens in place. She attached the dangling metal clips to the front D-rings on her harness, below and either side of the buxom brunette’s heaving bosoms. Cath grinned in heartless satisfaction when her stunned daughter tried to tug free her bound arms, before Bonnie quickly realised her struggles were pointless. I noticed my cousin straining to reach across her squashed breasts with both baby-pink mittens, trying to reach the wrist strap on the opposite side to unfasten it. The D-rings either side of her E-cups were set too far apart, and her earnest efforts merely earned her an ‘F’ for failure. “On your knees, Baby Bonnie,” Cath quietly ordered. Her tone of absolute authority made me shudder.
Bonnie looked ready to refuse her mother’s command, but Cath simply grabbed the front of the white leather toddler harness, curling her fingers over the diamante lettering that read, ‘Baby Bonnie.’ She yanked down hard, forcing the wide-eyed teen to her knees. My domineering Aunty stepped behind her and grabbed hold of the back of Bonnie’s harness, and forced the kneeling girl to bend forward at the waist. Bonnie’s bound hands waved uselessly in front of her lush bosom as she was forced to tilt forward, her red blushing face slowly dropping to the carpet as she meekly protested her fate. “No Mummy! Wait! You can’t do this to me!” Bonnie babbled, her voice rising in fear.
“Oh Bonnie! You silly baby girl! I can do anything I want to you,” Cath boasted with frightening certainty. “You disobeyed my strict instructions and returned early from the party with your naughty baby cousin. Mummy is very cranky with you, baby girl!” When Bonnie’s wrinkled nose was buried in the sunroom carpet and her big nappy bottom poked high in the air, Cath released her grip on the back of the white leather harness. She gave Bonnie’s plastic-sheathed padded seat a couple of noisy hard hand spanks. My trapped cousin fruitlessly tried to push herself upright with her bound fists, but while her mother was spanking her, her efforts were futile. Bonnie turned her head to the side facing me, and her huge golden eyes glistened from a combination of frustration and rage.
I watched from my lowly position on all fours as my cruel Aunty rendered Bonnie helpless and crisply spanked her big padded bum. Then Cath’s harsh emerald gaze swept over me. Her red painted lips pursed in a frown and she shook her head in annoyance. I fearfully knelt up when Aunty Cath approached me holding out my baby-pink mittens. I didn’t bother trying to avoid her grasp when she slipped the leather restraints over my limp curled fingers. She buckled the leather mittens tightly in place around my slender wrists, locked them closed with the tiny brass padlocks, and then she slid the fur-covered shoulder straps of my pink tutu down over my trembling arms.
“Stand up, Baby Jennie,” Cath crisply commanded, and she took hold of my leather mittens and dragged me to my feet. She unclipped my dummy chain and left it dangling against my breast, and I bit down on the firm rubber teat to stop it falling out. I swayed unsteadily as she tugged the tight leotard bodice down over my slippery plastic panties and huge nappies, and I clumsily stepped clear of the swishing tulle skirts when she dragged my tutu away from my feet. I heard the jingling of metal when she lowered my toddler harness over the tiara on my head. I compliantly raised my arms and let Aunty Cath feed my mittened fists through the appropriate loops. The leather straps were cold against my warm body, making me flinch and whimper. Aunty buckled the chest and waist straps behind my back, and like Bonnie’s, she gave the chest strap a hard yank to make sure it was tightly secured. My mitten wrist cuffs were clipped to the D-rings either side of my chest, and I was as helpless as the other big babies. I didn’t resist when my smirking Aunty forced me to my knees once more, and I sank to the carpet with a sigh of relief. I felt unsafe standing on my own two feet, these days.
“You’re a naughty baby girl, Baby Jennie!” Aunty Cath scolded me. She pushed me forward until my nose was pressed painfully into the carpet. When she released her grip on my toddler harness, I turned my head to the side so I was facing Bonnie. I wondered if my wide blue eyes clearly reflected my fear, like her huge golden orbs. “You’re wearing cloth nappies, which means my disobedient daughter had to change you at the party. Did you poop your nappy, you bad baby girl?” I cringed at the utter contempt in her tone, and struggled to turn my head and find my mother. But Mummy was slumped in her armchair, looking shell-shocked by the turn of events.
WHACK! The loud open-handed blow across my plastic-covered botty was relatively painless due to the bulk of my warm wet padding, but I squealed in shock nonetheless. WHACK! WHACK! “Answer me!” Aunty Cath harshly commanded, but it was Bonnie who spoke first.
“Leave her alone!” my cousin unexpectedly shrieked in my defence. “It wasn’t her fault!”
“What?” Cath demanded in surprise. She used the white toddler harness to drag her protesting daughter upright onto her knees so she could examine her flushed red face. “What on earth do you mean, Baby Bonnie?” Cath scoffed in disbelief. “Did someone else poop in Baby Jennie’s nappy? Did you?”
“No, no, it’s all my fault,” Bonnie blubbered, and then she burst into a flood of tears. I turned my face back towards my cousin in confusion, painfully dragging my nose and my dummy guard through the carpet. “When I took Baby Jennie to the beauty salon yesterday, I injected her anal muscles with botox and-”
Mummy looked up and she and Cath simultaneously shouted, “What?”
“Explain yourself, Bonnie,” Cath harshly ordered, and her repentant daughter wailed at the anger in her mother’s curt tone.
Bonnie successfully swiped her dripping nose with one pink leather mitten, but she could barely reach her eyes to brush away the tears. “I thought my diaper punishment was all Baby Jennie’s fault, and I- I wanted to get back at her,” Bonnie tremulously explained. “We- I pinched some single-use syringes from the salon’s cosmetic doctor, and I injected some botox around baby’s anal sphincter to numb the muscles. The effect should only last a few months, but until the botox wears off, Baby Jennie won’t be able to stop pooping her pants like a helpless two-year-old.”
“My God, Bonnie! What have you done to my poor baby?” Mummy moaned, climbing slowly to her feet.
Cath compressed her full crimson lips into a thin hard line as she stepped over to Bonnie’s pink vinyl diaper bag. “Have you anything else you need to tell me, Baby Bonnie?” Cath frostily demanded.
“No mummy,” Bonnie snivelled. ‘I’m sorry, mummy. I’m sorry I was a bad baby girl, mummy,” she abjectly apologised, realising it was all too little, too late. My cousin couldn’t see what her mother was doing behind her back, but she saw my big blue eyes widen in alarm when her mother approached her from behind. Cath held a familiar white-frilled, baby-pink leather bonnet in her hands. She was screwing in the pump hose to the mouthpiece. Aunty Cath slipped the soft baby leather bonnet over her daughter’s bowed head. When Bonnie opened her mouth to object, her mother expertly fed the partly-inflated black rubber gag between her writhing lips.
Bonnie’s voluble protests were quickly reduced to an incoherent muffled jumble of words. In moments, the restrictive leather bonnet was buckled tightly in place under her chin. With a few quick pumps, the dummy-gag inflated to fill Bonnie’s mouth, rendering the poor girl speechless. Cath unscrewed the pump bulb and tucked the short black hose under her arm. “I think I’ve heard enough out of you for the moment, Baby Bonnie,” Cath murmured, smiling in grim satisfaction at her daughter’s muffled unintelligible whimpers. “I warned you only yesterday, baby girl; as you treat Baby Jennie, so you would be treated. I’m going to ring a doctor friend of mine tonight, and arrange to buy enough botox shots from her to replace the ones you stole - and also do the same thing to your naughty little poo-poo hole. You are going to suffer the same fate as Baby Jennie. How about that, Baby Bonnie?”
I saw my cousin’s golden eyes widening in terror at the horrifying prospect, and she burbled incoherently in protest. Bonnie violently shook her head in frustration, trying to shake out the inflated mouth-filling gag. Apart from making her wide white lace bonnet frills tremble attractively, her struggles were pointless. Her face turned red and her golden eyes glistened with unshed tears. I turned away from Bonnie so I wouldn’t have to watch her frustrated efforts.
“My God, what a week! What a weekend!” Mummy moaned. She snatched another tissue from the box of Kleenex on the coffee table and swiped at her leaking eyes again. She realised her false eyelashes were peeling away, and I was glad when she grabbed hold of the dangling ends and ripped them free. “My God! What am I saying?” Mummy mumbled. “What a fucking day!” I had never heard my mother use the F-word and my mind reeled in shock. She wrapped the spidery fake lashes in one of the balled-up soggy tissues, and tossed it with the others on the coffee table. “I only found out earlier today that Baby Jennie had been raped a few days ago!”
“What?” Aunty Cath screamed in shock, whirling around to face her shattered younger sister in the armchair.
It took Mummy only a few minutes to tell her horrified big sister all the juicy details of my grubby little adventure in the Nursery with David. I collapsed on the floor and cried like a baby throughout the whole sordid tale. I think at first only Aunty Cath was aware that I was unconsciously thrusting my stiff clittie into the warm wet folds of my nappy against the carpet the entire time. Even I didn’t realise I was doing it until Mummy finished her story. Aunty clucked her tongue in annoyance at my infantile antics and sat me up to stop me pleasuring myself. She smiled in sympathy at the tears staining my flushed cheeks, and produced a frilly baby-blue bibbie to dry my eyes and runny nose. She clipped it around my neck, and I read upside-down the humiliating words, ‘Mummy’s Stinky Baby Girl’ through a veil of tears. Mummy attached the dangling dummy clip to the wide white lace frill around the collar of my bibbie, and I gratefully sucked on the mouth-filling amber teat.
Cath was furious when she learned that the muscular hunk from next door had forced his penis inside my mouth and made me suck him dry, and then anally raped me. My Aunty paced the sunroom thinking furiously when Mummy concluded her tale of woe. Baby Pansy looked equally horrified by my mother’s astounding revelations, and she knelt up and desperately shook her head in a useless attempt to loosen her gag. The diapered big sissy baby obviously had something she wanted to contribute, but her bad baby bonnet was buckled on too tightly, just like Bonnie’s.
Aunty Cath noticed Pansy’s wide pleading eyes and saw her mittens fluttering against her harness strap in distress, but waved her off with a contemptuous sneer. She was in charge of the babies, and she obviously preferred to keep the bigger toddlers silent for the moment. “There’s no proof, you understand,” my Aunt carefully explained to her distraught younger sister. “It’s merely Baby Jennie’s word against David’s.” Cath turned to gaze down disparagingly at me. “And let’s face it - who would you believe? I mean, look at her! Who is going to take the word of a panty-pooping, effeminate, overgrown sissy toddler, over that of a handsome, athletic teenage boy?”
When Aunty Cath put it like that, even I despaired of ever having my revenge. “You haven’t spoken to David’s mother yet?” Cath asked. Mummy shook her head as she dried the tears staining her flushed cheeks. Her make-up was a mess!
“No,” she dismally replied. Mummy loudly blew her nose before adding, “I wouldn’t know how to start a conversation like that with Ruth.”
“I have a plan,” Cath finally announced, and I found her shark-like grin quite frightening. “Did you borrow that nannycam from your neighbour yet?”
“Yes, Ellen gave it to me on Saturday night. It’s already set up in the Nursery, and connected to my computer.” Bonnie’s wide eyes darted towards my face at that news, and I couldn’t understand the frightened look in her huge golden orbs.
“Excellent! I think I have a friend who can drop over a couple of extra antenna receivers we can connect to my computer and…” Cath paused to look down at the group of big babies submissively kneeling on the sunroom floor, gazing up at her and listening attentively to her every word. “Come out to the kitchen, Isy, and I’ll tell you what I’ve got in mind,” Cath suggested to her interested sister a few moments later.
She grabbed Mummy’s hand and dragged her to her feet, and the two towering women in their sexy leather outfits strode into the kitchen in their skyscraper-high black boots. I could hear them chatting quietly out there for a few minutes, but I was too far away to determine what Aunty Cath was telling Mummy. With their wide-brimmed leather bonnets buckled over their heads and covering their ears, I knew the other babies had no chance of hearing anything, either. At one stage the women in the kitchen burst into nervous laughter, and then I heard them go upstairs. When they trotted downstairs and returned to the sunroom about ten minutes later, both women were smiling wolfishly in anticipation.
I noticed Mummy had changed out of her exotic leather outfit into a pair of loose baggy blue jeans and a plain white cotton blouse. She was still wearing her impressive, high-heeled platform boots underneath her blue denim pants, and her beautiful face bore a fresh coat of make-up. “Alright Cath, I’ll go and ask Ellen and Sally if they wouldn’t mind looking after Angelica for an extra hour. I’m sure it will be no problem,” she assured her big sister. “Mind the baby.” With barely a glance for me on all fours, Mummy returned to the kitchen. A few seconds later I heard the back screen door slam behind her.
Cath rooted about in the hot-pink overnight bag for a moment, and then took out another set of ankle cuffs made from baby-pink leather lined with soft fluffy lambs’ wool. There was already a clear plastic tube with a six-inch steel chain running through it, joining the fur-lined restraints. Like Pansy’s, the chain was locked to a metal ring on each padded cuff. Cath stepped over to Bonnie and buckled the leather restraints about her kneeling daughter’s slender ankles, and then locked the cuffs in place. She grabbed the back of Bonnie’s toddler harness and raised her bowed head from the carpet. My stern-faced Aunty unclipped her daughter’s wrists from her white leather toddler harness, and then unbuckled her baby-pink mittens. She held up a finger in warning, and Bonnie gazed up at her fearfully. “Now Bonnie, I’m going to take off your baby mittens and your dummy-gag in a moment. But I’m warning you - one word of protest, one complaint, and the bad baby bonnet goes straight back on - and I’ll leave that gag in all night! Do you understand Mummy?” Bonnie urgently nodded, her glistening golden eyes wide with fear.
Aunty Cath smiled down at the cowed kneeling teenager and nodded in heartless satisfaction. “First let me explain what I want you to do. I want you to take Baby Jennie upstairs and dress her in her prettiest baby frock, frilliest socks, and some sweet little Maryjanes. Get rid of that tiara and brush her hair, and tidy up her make-up, too. Her face is a mess! Alright? I want to see my precious baby niece looking as pretty as I’ve ever seen her. But leave her in that wet nappy, and don’t touch her baby mittens. Before you bring the baby back downstairs, buckle her toddler harness back on over her pretty frock. Understood?” Bonnie nodded again, but I could tell by the look in her eyes that she was as confused as myself. But when her mother deflated the mouth-filling rubber gag with a hiss of escaping air and then unbuckled her bad baby bonnet, Bonnie gasped in relief - but otherwise remained sensibly silent.
“Well, Baby Bonnie? What are you waiting for?” Cath frostily demanded, as soon as she had pulled the snug leather mittens from her daughter’s clenched fists. “Get upstairs and take that sissy baby girl with you!” Bonnie helped me to my feet and slowly led me waddling away, forced to take tiny mincing steps because of the restrictive six-inch hobble between her ankle cuffs. I glanced back over my shoulder as Aunty Cath was helping her bound and gagged ex-husband to his feet. “I have a little job for you too, Baby Pansy,” she informed the heavily diapered sissy, “before I take you home and deal with your naughtiness personally. You need some severe potty-training tonight, my bad baby girl!” I saw his eyes light up at the prospect before Bonnie dragged me away.
We both crawled up the stairs - me because I had been ordered to, and Bonnie because of the hobble chain. Neither of us had a choice. Twenty minutes later Bonnie led me waddling wetly back along the landing to the top of the staircase, and we bumped our way down on our soggy diapered bottoms, step by step like two tiny toddlers. I was wearing my brief, lace-lavished, buttercup-yellow satin party frock, with my bouffant chiffon petties swishing noisily underneath. Although I was wearing the matching yellow satin, plastic-lined rumba panties, Bonnie had been ordered not to change my warm wet nappy. I was dressed in my frilly yellow anklet socks and my shiny white patent Maryjanes, and I felt beautiful with a fresh coating of make-up and perfume, too. My pink toddler harness was tightly buckled around my torso, and my baby-pink leather mittens were still securely padlocked around my wrists.
Mummy had returned from Daisy’s birthday party, where she’d organised our neighbours to babysit Angie for another hour or so. Baby Pansy had contacted someone to bring over the appropriate wireless antennas, and they were meeting them at Cath’s home in ten minutes. Aunty Cath inspected my freshly-done hair, face and clothes, and nodded in thin-lipped approval. “Well done, Bonnie! You certainly made her look like a beautiful little girl again. Apart from her nappies, Baby Jennie looks like she’s about six years old! Perfect!” Bonnie’s mother swiftly buckled her morose daughter’s baby mittens in place, and clipped the wrist cuffs to her toddler harness once more.
Once her arms were safely shackled, Cath slipped the bad baby bonnet back over her daughter’s chestnut locks, and eased the semi-inflated black gag into her protesting mouth. She forced Bonnie to raise her chin so she could buckle the straps in place, and once the frilly baby bonnet was secure, Cath gave the bulb pump a few quick squeezes to inflate the rubber gag. Bonnie was swiftly reduced to pink-cheeked silence, and her huge golden eyes were wide with fear by the time her mother was satisfied. My Aunty unscrewed the pump piece from the front of the pink strap covering Bonnie’s mouth, and tossed it in the hot-pink overnight bag and zipped it closed. I noticed Baby Pansy already had her mittens and silencing bad baby bonnet buckled back in place, as well.
Aunty Cath clapped her hands loudly for attention. “Alright, Baby Pansy and Baby Bonnie. Come with Mummy, girls, and she’ll take you home.” When my Mummy wandered into the sunroom to say goodbye, Cath asked her, “Is everything set?”
Mummy nodded, biting her scarlet-painted bottom lip uncertainly, now that their plan had been unstoppably set in motion. She had brushed on some mascara and black eyeliner to replace her missing false eyelashes, and her long black lashes fluttered in anxiety. Although she looked worried, I thought her face looked beautiful again. “I rang and spoke to Ruth Smith, David’s mother,” Mummy said. “I’ve arranged for him to come over in half an hour to mind Baby Jennie for about two hours, while I supposedly pick up Angie from another birthday party on the other side of town.”
“Excellent,” Aunty Cath replied with an evil leer, rubbing her palms together like Montgomery Burns from ‘The Simpsons’. “Excellent! That should convince the steroid-enhanced bubble-brain he has all the time he needs. I’ll take my big baby girls home now, and make sure they’ll be safe and secure for a few hours. I’ll return in ten or fifteen minutes. We can set up my spare computer in your garage in about five minutes, then you can make like you’re getting ready to go out.”
“What will I do with Baby Jennie in the meantime,” Mummy asked, looking worried.
“Lock her in that cute pink playpen in your back yard,” Cath suggested with a harsh snort of laughter, as she clipped the baby reins to her respective charges’ harnesses. She rolled up the loops of four leather leashes in one meaty fist and grinned at Mummy. “That should keep your sissy baby safe and out of harm’s way until her babysitter arrives. You can tell David she’s waiting for him in her playpen out the back.”
After bidding us farewell, Cath used the baby reins to lead her diapered hobbled daughter and her similarly bound and gagged ex-husband shuffling silently out the front to her black BMW in our driveway. Mummy meanwhile hauled me out to the back yard. I waddled along beside her while she clutched one of my pink baby mittens, but as soon as she released my hand to open the playpen gate, I automatically dropped to all fours. I crawled inside the huge steel playpen with my mittens still locked over my clenched fists, and my mother bolted closed the barred gate behind me and smiled down sympathetically at me. “Don’t worry, baby girl. Everything is going to be alright,” Mummy reassured me, although she looked more than a little worried herself. “I’ll just go and get you a drink.” She returned a few minutes later with an icy-cold baby bottle for me. She reached through the pink-painted bars and clipped my pink terry ‘Princess Potty Pants’ bibbie around my neck first.
I didn’t complain when she reattached my dummy clip to the frilly white lace collar of my bibbie. It was less humiliating than my previous blue bibbie, which Bonnie fortunately left lying on the floor of my Nursery. I stuck the nipple in my mouth and lay back in the bright afternoon sunshine on the warm padded vinyl floor of my playpen, listening to the noisy squealing girls still playing games and partying next door. As I slowly drained my baby bottle of green minty water, I hoped none of the remaining Fairy Princesses at Daisy’s birthday party wandered close enough to the oleander bushes bordering our properties to catch sight of me locked in my shameful pink prison. I shuddered at the potential humiliation and gripped my plastic baby bottle tightly between both mittened fists, squeezing it in fear.
I was shocked when a short time later I heard a deep menacing chuckle close behind me. I whirled around on my hands and knees, my empty bottle flying from my clumsy grasp and clattering against the steel bars. Handsome David was standing beside my playpen, leaning on the high steel railing with his elbows and smirking down at me in bemused contempt. He was dressed in a black collared polo shirt and a pair of baggy khaki shorts, with his usual high-top sneakers on his feet. “Well look at you!” He snickered, but his cobalt-blue eyes were wide with complete surprise. “Don’t you look pretty today!” He laughed, and it was a dirty, wicked sound. “Did you make yourself all pretty for Daddy, so he would give his sweet little baby girl some extra-good lovin’ this afternoon? Huh, Baby Jennie?”
I cringed away from the muscular brute, but he merely laughed louder and stepped around to the opposite end of the playpen to unlock the barred steel gate. He opened it and motioned for me to crawl out, but I fearfully backed away from his leering grin. “Come on, baby girl,” he cooed, like he was talking to a real toddler girl. He raised the barred hinged gate high for me in invitation and sang, “Crawl out of your playpen to daddy, Princess Potty-pants - or daddy will go and get some of those girls he can hear partying next door, and introduce them all to his diapered big baby girl. Maybe they would like to help change your wet nappy?”
I’d already suffered enough humiliation today at the hands of the girls next door, so I reluctantly crawled out of the relative safety of my pink playpen. David leaned on the top rail with one elbow and didn’t offer to help. He kept chuckling when I remained on all fours, crawling across the back lawn like a helpless infant all the way to the veranda steps. “Holy shit! Are you wearing baby mittens, too?” He snorted in derision, and it was obvious he wasn’t expecting an answer from me. “What a baby!”
He didn’t bother offering me a hand, so I risked climbing to my feet and clumsily mounted the rough wooden steps, one slippery white-patent Maryjane at a time, like a real toddler learning to walk. Impatient with my slow waddling progress, David eventually snatched one of my tiny leather-bound fists and dragged me across the veranda and inside the silent empty house. “Gees! Are those mittens locked on?” He inspected the white leather cuffs and shook his head in disdainful amusement at the small brass padlocks as led me upstairs, although he obviously relished the fact that my baby mittens would certainly prevent me interfering with his nefarious schemes.
When I waddled into the brightly-lit Nursery beside him anxiously sucking my dum-dums, I looked around for the hidden camera I learned Mummy had set in place last night. But I couldn’t see any sign of the so-called ‘nannycam,’ and I worried what my mother and my fierce Aunty had planned. I didn’t know my Aunty was already hiding in our garage, with a computer and a monitor from her place set up on daddy’s workbench. The antenna was connected and tuned to the broadcasting nannycam, and her computer was recording on the hard drive everything that happened in the Nursery.
Before David lifted me onto the change table, he let me drop onto my big padded bum on the carpet. He grinned down at me, a wicked gleam in his cobalt-blue eyes. “Stay right there, baby girl,” he advised me with an evil leer. He collected one of my puffy pink disposable diapers from under the change table and took a pair of my pink plastic panties from the dresser drawer. “I’ll be back in a minute, Princess,” he promised in a husky whisper, before he disappeared downstairs carrying the two items.
Meanwhile my mother had run next door and was knocking on the Smith’s front door, with another antenna in one hand and the software disc in the other. When a puzzled Ruth Smith let Mummy inside, Isabell first insisted that she need to use a computer that was net-connected. Ruth led Mummy to her own laptop, frowning in confusion. While Mummy attached the antenna, inserted the software disc and then tuned in to the broadcasting camera, she carefully explained why she had set up a spy camera in her sissy baby’s Nursery - and what she suspected Ruth’s older boy of doing.
The distraught mother denied the possibility that her handsome, perfectly-normal, wonderful teenage son could ever do anything so heinous. But when her laptop screen lit up with the images beamed from the Nursery next door, Ruth fell silent and waited to see what would transpire. The two mothers could clearly see a grainy image of a big diapered baby girl in a pretty yellow frock sitting on the floor of the Nursery, and their eyes remained glued to the flickering screen as I looked around like a wide-eyed toddler.
I sat on my warm puffy bot-bot and slowly gazed around the spacious Nursery, looking for any sign of a camcorder. I carefully examined everything from my spot on the floor - the familiar diaper-changing items on the shelf above the change table, the baby stuff on my dressing table, and the make-up and hair accessories on the mirrored vanity bench. Nothing looked abnormal or out of place. I stared at the collection of bears and dolls on the high wooden shelf up on the far wall, but they all looked completely normal to me. I was about to crawl over to the walk-in wardrobe and see if there was a camera concealed behind the partially-open door, but David returned before I could put my plan into action. He carried one of my big pink baby bottles full of warm milk in one hand, and my pink diaper and plastic pilchers in the other. He dumped everything at the head of the padded change table, out of harm’s way.
“Okay baby girl,” he sang invitingly, “up we hop!” David grabbed me around the waist and lifted me onto the change table as though I was as light as a feather. I found his strength quite terrifying, and decided to do whatever the musclebound hunk ordered. He flipped up the back of my dress and petties in the rear, and pushed me onto my back. “Your Mum said you were soaked and I had to change your nappy right away, Baby Jennie,” he huskily informed me, as he removed my white patent Maryjanes. He left my frilly anklet socks in place, and the yellow lace frills trembled around my shivering ankles when I raised my feet. “She said you were wet through and needed to be changed, but she didn’t have time to do it before she had to leave. Is that right?” I didn’t bother responding, and simply chewed anxiously on the soothing rubber teat of my dum-dums when he tossed my slithering skirt front and frilly petties up over my tummy.
David didn’t seem to expect a reply either, and he kept chatting mostly to himself as he pulled down my frill-laden, plastic-lined, yellow satin rumba panties, and drew them clear of my sheer white sock toes. “Oh Baby Jennie! Pink nappies now? You really are a sissy baby girl, aren’t you?” He tossed the rumba panties to the floor and poked my warm wet nappy front, then grimaced in disgust. “Tsk-tsk-tsk!” He clucked his tongue in disapproval when he realised I really was saturated, and my drenched nappy front clung heavily to my shrivelled genitals. “What a dirty, wet little girl you are!” he scolded me, as he removed the pink-capped steel pins and stuck them in the bar of soap on the shelf overhead. When he slowly lowered the soggy front of my nappy, he seemed surprised to find my limp little clittie nestled in my crotch like a sleeping pink worm. But he really didn’t care. It wasn’t my sexual satisfaction that concerned him.
He pulled my wet cloth diapers from underneath me, disposed of the liners and the sodden soaker pad in the bin, and then tossed my dripping nappies and damp baby panties in my nappy bucket. David was gentle as a lamb when he wiped my clittie and ball sack with a handful of soothing moist baby wipes. Totally beyond my control, my limp organ began to stir. He raised my ankles to clean my bum, and eventually his probing touches at my puffy back door made my sensitive little tool star to swell, no matter how hard I tried to stop it from happening. When he lowered my legs, he snickered at the outward sign of my arousal. He slid an open pink disposable diaper under me, and let my bottom drop onto the rustling papery padding. Then he picked up the tub of Vaseline from the shelf above, and my uncontrollable clittie swelled even more.
David chortled nastily at my rising excitement, but the only comment he made was; “We need to put some of this special cream around your sensitive little rosebud, baby girl.” He crooned like he was talking to a real baby girl, “We don’t want you getting a nasty nappy rash down there, do we Baby Jennie?” He grabbed my ankles with his other hand and swept my petite feet back over my head, exposing my little pink freckle to his monstrous machinations. I anxiously chewed on my dummy-teat and squirmed helplessly in excitement when David’s fat finger probed at the wrinkled entrance to my well-used opening. In spite of my fear, my botty cheeks naturally relaxed open, exposing my wrinkled back door to his devilish caresses. His greasy digit twirled round and around my sensitive puffy boy-pussy, and then he thrillingly slipped the tip inside my dilating hole.
“Ooo! Oh Daddy! Daddy!” I couldn’t stop myself from moaning ecstatically when he forced his fat greasy phalange deeper inside my twitching rosebud, and I wondered if Mummy and Aunty Cath were watching. As a matter of fact, they were - but Ruth Smith was beginning to doubt her next-door neighbour’s reliability. From where the nannycam sat, on the high shelf mounted on the far wall nearest the head end of the change table, it looked and sounded like David was performing his babysitting duties with due diligence. I was the naughty little boy with the uncontrollable erection, feet wriggling in the air and moaning loudly with arousal! Ruth watched as her son spread the thick layer of Vaseline around my wrinkled pink anus, unaware that one of his greasy fat fingers had already penetrated me, preparing my back passage for another dastardly session of anal rape. His probing finger slid all the way inside my excitable boy-pussy again, and he swirled it around to make sure every inch was coated with greasy lubricant.
I moaned aloud at the erotic caresses, and my little feet began to helplessly twitch and thrash in his grasp. He sniggered at my excited cries and unexpectedly withdrew his titillating finger, making me gasp in disappointment. David abruptly released my legs and my twitching feet crashed to the padded surface, but he only grinned down lasciviously at my excited, fearful expression as he wiped his grubby finger clean with a moist baby wipe. My throbbing clittie was fully erect and bobbing above my tummy with arousal. The tip was leaking gobs of pre-cum, but my mouth had dried up completely. After dusting a light coating of powder over my belly and stiff red clittie, I was surprised when David immediately pulled the front of my pink disposable diaper up over my throbbing tool. He didn’t bother powdering my botty or rubbing in the silky talc, and he tightly fastened the crackling disposable over my narrow hips with the strong adhesive tapes.
Some rustling pink plastic panties came next, and I realised they were the same baby panties David had taken downstairs a few minutes ago. I wondered what the big brute planned to do to me? Maybe he only intended forcing me suck his huge cock this afternoon? I have to admit, my pulsating little tool grew even harder at the frightening - yet arousing - prospect. David lowered the slithery front of my yellow satin dress and frothy chiffon petties over my pink baby panties, and gave my forearms a teasing wiggle. He heard a jingling sound from my wrists, and that’s when he noticed the tiny steel clips attached to the white leather wrist cuffs that secured my mittens in place. He held my forearms against my bosom and examined the clips closely, and when he eyed the shiny chromed D-rings on the front of my pink toddler harness, I saw his cobalt-blue eyes light up with sadistic delight when he made the connection.
David snickered in cruel appreciation as he clipped my wrist restraints to the D-rings on my toddler harness. I was powerless to stop him, and my baby-pink mittens flailed about my bosom in useless protest. I gazed up at him in wide-eyed alarm and whimpered around my dum-dums in fearful anticipation. “Come on, Baby Jennie,” he urged me as he lifted me down from the change table. His voice had suddenly grown deeper, and I recognised the husky throaty tone of sexual arousal. He set me on my wide-splayed stockinged feet, and I wobbled dangerously as I clumsily struggled for balance. He collected the warm baby bottle and gripped one of my mittened fists, and smiled wickedly as he suggested, “Come over to the rocking chair, little girl, and you can sit on Daddy’s lap while you drink your bottle of milk.”
In the house next door, Ruth Smith turned away from the monitor to confront her neighbour Isabell. She defensively insisted, “See? My son is being a perfect babysitter! It’s your twisted little sissy who’s sexually aroused. I don’t know what you’re complaining about-” Her protests died when she saw the horrified expression on Isabell’s face, and her crinkled blue eyes darted back to the flickering screen.
David handed me my warm bottle to hold, and I clumsily clutched it to my trembling bosom with both mittened fists. He turned me around so I faced away from him, so I wouldn’t see him unzipping his khaki shorts or lowering them around his narrow hips. The closet door had drifted open, and I could see my feminine reflection in the full-length mirror mounted behind the door. I couldn’t see what David was doing behind my trembling wide-flared skirts. But we were standing side-on to the nannycam mounted on the high wooden shelf, and the recording lens inside the teddy could see everything he was doing. His thick erection clearly poked out through the hole in his tighty-whities, and in the home office next door, Mummy gasped in shock.
For a few moments, the watching women remained frozen in place, too stunned to move. The muscular lad swiftly sat on the white wicker rocking chair, and then he reached for my padded hips. He tilted the chair forwards and made me clumsily shuffle backwards between his spread thighs. David brusquely shoved my yellow satin skirt and petticoats up out of the way in back, and I felt so feminine as I watched my lace-edged hem and petties flying about in the mirror. I admired the gorgeous make-up job Bonnie had done on my face, and the way my frothy petties gently swirled around my diapered hips. I really did look like a beautiful little girl!
David made me perch there on tippy-toes for a few seconds while he fiddled under my puffy bum. Then he gripped one of my padded hips, and slowly eased me back onto his lap. At first I thought he was kindly arranging a cushion for me to sit on. I didn’t realise he was using his other hand to thread the spongy purple head of his swollen stiff tool into the slits he’d cut in the seat of my plastic panties and my disposable diaper. The first inkling I had that something was wrong was when he carefully settled me on his lap, and I felt something hot and hard sliding between my greasy bum cheeks.
I squealed in pain as David forced the hot head of his huge hard cock inside my slippery boy-pussy. “Oh daddy! No daddy! Pweathe daddy, no?” I foolishly squealed in protest, my dum-dums falling from my writhing pink lips. I tried to bear down like I was doing a poo-poo, trying to force his cock out. But that only seemed to allow him easier access, and his hot throbber grew slipperier as it slid another painful inch inside me. My pink leather mittens flailed in front of my heaving bosom, and I almost lost my grip on my bottle. David ignored my high-pitched squeals for mercy and gripped me tightly around my slender waist with both hands. He wriggled his hips, groaning in guttural satisfaction as his red-hot poker penetrated me another inch.
“A perfect babysitter?” Mummy demanded of her stunned neighbour, her voice an angry snarl. “Look what your perverted son is doing to my poor little baby!” Isabell jumped to her feet and dashed towards the Smith’s front door, with her chubby neighbour hot on her heels. The low hedge separating the front of the two properties was too high and wide to easily hurdle, and Isabell knew she’d sprain an ankle if she attempted the jump in her thigh-high stiletto boots. She ran down the Smith’s front path instead, turned left, and dashed along the footpath. She almost lost her footing on her slippery leather soles when did another ninety-degree left turn to sprint up the concrete driveway towards her house. Ruth Smith tried to keep up, but her shorter legs and bulkier frame meant she was already metres behind by the time Isabell threw open her front door.
As soon as Cath saw the boy’s erect penis pop into view, she snarled in fury. But she waited until the musclebound teen had buried his huge tool all the way inside the protesting sissy baby’s bottom before she burst into action. She ran through the back door of our garage and sprinted across the back yard. She had to dance on the soles of her feet so her stiletto heels didn’t sink into the soft ground, and the loose black cotton blouse she’d tossed over a clean black tricot bra fluttered in the breeze. Cath leaped onto the veranda and pulled open the screen door, threw open the back door, and hurtled through the kitchen into the hallway. She was already halfway up the stairs before Mummy burst in through the front door.
“Oh yeah, baby!” David moaned in guttural satisfaction. “You’re so hot and wet inside!” David slid back in the deep wicker chair and drew me with him. He lifted me off my feet so all my insignificant weight bore down on his pounding hard tool. He reached down and gripped my slender thighs, lifting me with ease and spreading my trembling legs. He brought his knees together and lowered my little legs either side of his, till I helplessly straddled his muscular hairy thighs. I felt his manly girth slowly sliding deeper inside me, and my stiff clittie pounded with uncontrollable excitement inside my puffy disposable diaper. I moaned girlishly at the pleasure/pain as my well-used sphincter opened wide to accept him, until I felt the crinkling seat of my pink plastic panties come to rest against his loins.
“Oh daddy no! No daddy, no!” I squealed in useless protest, as he irresistibly buried his pulsating rod deep inside me. I shuddered as his manly girth stretched my naughty hole painfully wide, and then the solid throbbing length of him was buried all the way inside my twitching pussy. I felt the soft spongy head caressing that secret sensitive spot deep inside me, and my tearful protests faltered, becoming instead a low impassioned moan. “Oh daddy pweathe? Pweathe daddy? Ohh daddy!” I gasped helplessly in arousal as he pressed my hips down, till my diapered botty cheeks settled firmly onto his lap. The strangest thing was - watching our reflection in the mirror, you couldn’t really see that there was anything untoward going on. I could see a pretty little curly-haired girl in her gorgeous satin frock and swishing chiffon petties, being dandled on her handsome young daddy’s lap as he rocked her backwards and forwards.
David started rocking the wicker chair faster and harder, and because my thrashing feet didn’t touch the floor, I had no way of controlling how deeply he penetrated me. I dropped my sloshing bottle but David noticed. He deftly caught the full plastic vessel when it bounced off his knees. He brought the clear silicon nipple to my parted lips with one huge hand and slipped the spurting teat into my mouth, tilting the base of the bottle high to silence my breathless, high-pitched squeals. He ordered in that deep husky voice, “Suck, baby girl. Suck on your titty-bottle like you’re sucking on Daddy’s cock. Oh baby!” He groaned in arousal when my boy-pussy instinctively twitched at his rude admonition, my anal muscles tightly gripping his swollen love-pole.
As I sucked down a mouthful of warm sweet milk, I remorselessly squeezed his throbbing rod in my feminine grip. But that couldn’t stop his huge piece of man-meat sliding all the way in and almost all the way out of my slippery back door, with every steady backward and forward rock of the wide wicker chair. “Oh, good girl! What a good little girl,” he grunted in animalistic pleasure. In the mirror, I watched my feminine reflection in amazement. I was that helpless baby girl in the shiny yellow frock, puffy diaper and pink baby panties, buckled in her pink toddler harness and mittens, rocking on her daddy’s lap while he lovingly fed her a warm bottle of milk and babbled words of praise in her ear. I felt so feminine and helpless, yet strangely fulfilled. Despite the intense sexual feelings coming from my ravaged pussy and my throbbing hard clittie, everything looked completely normal from the outside. I wondered if Mummy and Aunty Cath could see what the big brute was doing to me?
David kept the warm nipple crammed between my writhing lips, and reached around my bucking loins with his free hand. His large hand pressed down over the front of my diaper, right over my pulsating clittie, and he clutched me to his body in desperate urgency. I gasped and gurgled wetly around the spurting bottle teat as he sped up the rocking motion, thrusting his throbbing hot tool faster and harder inside me. Even though he’d been inside my pussy for only a minute or two, I could feel he was almost ready to explode. His swollen hard cock suddenly grew even thicker, and I could feel the solid length of him pulsating deep inside me. He was moaning almost continually, and then he began grunting in excitement. “Oh baby! Oh baby! Take it, you dirty little bitch!” He sounded like an animal when he growled, “Take it all for Daddy!”
“Let go of that baby, you rapist!” Cath screamed, as she exploded into the Nursery on her towering high heels. Her black leather pants clung to her muscular booted legs like a second skin and her loose black cotton blouse flapped around her shoulders like the wings of an avenging angel.
David thrust me away from his body with unbelievable strength. I flew through the air before crumpling to the carpet on my front, a few feet in front of the wicker chair. He leaped to his feet and tried to tug his shorts over his swollen glistening tool, but it was too late. He had come too far, and his bad baby juice had already begun its relentless unstoppable journey from his tightening balls. “Aarghh!” He screamed in undeniable pleasure as a jolt of creamy jism pulsated out of his bobbing penis. It flew across the room to land on my back, staining the rear of my buttercup-yellow toddler frock below the floppy satin bow. “Arrgghhh! Fuck! Aarrgghhh!” David groaned in uncontrollable relief as his climax overtook his senses for a few moments. More cum jettisoned from the purple tip of his huge tool, spraying over my buttocks and thighs, splattering wetly against my plastic panties and staining my upturned petticoats, too.
The writhing hulk helplessly clutched his throbbing rod in his right fist and tried to aim the spray away from my body, but Aunty Cath roughly pushed him backwards into the rocking chair. That was when he saw his mother and my mother dashing through the doorway into the Nursery, both glaring at him in fury.
“Oh David! How could you?” Ruth Smith shrilly demanded, her plump sweaty face absolutely horror-stricken. She was actually trembling from a combination of shock and rage. My Mummy shoved Aunty Cath out of the way and loomed over the cowering teenage boy in the rocking chair.
“You bastard!” Mummy snapped in fury, and she slapped David hard across the face with her strong right hand. The resounding ‘crack’ of flesh on flesh echoed loudly in the spacious Nursery. “You’ll pay for what you did to my poor baby!” She turned and crouched down beside me on the floor, and gathered my trembling frame into her loving arms. I wanted to cuddle her and cry my heart out, but my mittens were still shackled to the front of my toddler harness. I buried my face in Mummy’s soft fragrant neck instead, sobbing my eyes out. I didn’t see Aunty Cath take down the nannycam bear from the shelf and discretely switch off the camera inside. My calculating Aunty wanted no permanent record of the next few minutes.
To be concluded in chapter 42.
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