Jennie's Potty-Training chapter 6

Chapter 6. A Visit from Aunty Cath

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To be continued in chapter 7.



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