Synopsis; Connie the babysitter teaches Baby Jennie that girls don't need a man when they want to have some special fun.
Thanks for the reply, shitkickercity
Chapter 32. Boys Into Girls
Connie followed me as I slowly crawled upstairs and along the landing. When I shuffled into my Nursery, I could hear Angelica in the en-suite bathroom splashing in the bathtub and singing happily. I crawled over to the change table and our toothily-grinning babysitter helped me to me feet. I swayed and stumbled for balance when she tugged my sleeveless red gingham frock over my head. I grabbed my dummy chain when it got caught in the collar, making sure the comforting rubber teat wasn’t ripped from my swollen pink lips. Connie lifted me onto the change table and lay me back. “Ooo, you’re a heavy baby,” she complained, but she smiled to take the sting out of her words. She unbuckled and removed my red strappy sandals, then she cooed, “Lift that botty for me, baby girl!”
When I obediently raised my rear, she tugged my red satin panties and my plastic baby panties together down to me knees. “Botty down, baby, and lift those little footsies. Good girl.” She dragged both pairs of panties away from my feet and discarded the glistening pink pilchers on the floor, but she held up the luxurious thick satin cheerleader panties to examine them more closely. “These are cute knickers,” she muttered in appreciation. She spread the waistband wide and admired the ruffled satin frills decorating the shiny seat, before crumpling them up and tossing them to the floor.
She removed the four pins clasping my wet nappy and stuck the sharp ends in the bar of soap on the shelf above the change table. “Pee-yew!” Connie cried, wrinkling her pug nose in repugnance as she lowered the soggy wet front of my dirty nappy. “Yuck-spuck! What a yucky pooey mess!” I thought she was carrying on a bit. It honestly didn’t smell that bad to me, and I pouted resentfully around the pink guard of my dum-dums. Connie grabbed some baby wipes, collected my ankles in one hand, forced my knees up to my chest, and rolled me back onto my shoulders. I tried to relax and let my botty cheeks flop open, and she used the cold baby wipes to scour clean my dirty poo-poo hole and between my legs. She tossed the filthy wipes into a nappy sack she left sitting open and ready at the head of the change table, and then she slid my dirty nappy from underneath me before letting my body unfurl. She carefully placed the soiled wet nappies lying open on the floor, and I could see there was a small amount of mud-brown poop smeared over the blue liners in the centre of the soggy yellowed crotch.
Mummy’s cranky voice startled us from the landing doorway. “Oh no! Did my dirty, bad little baby girl do another poo-poo in her nappy?” She was wearing a scoop-necked, knitted, baby-blue dress that fell halfway down her tanned mid-thighs. It clung to her womanly curves like a gold-digger wrapped around a millionaire. There was a gleaming strand of large round pearls around her swan-like neck and a matching pearl bracelet circling one slender wrist. Her blonde hair bounced off her shoulders in neatly-brushed curls and she was wearing a full face of make-up this evening. She looked beautiful, even as she frowned at me while she tilted her head to one side, struggling to insert one of her dangly pearl earrings into a pierced lobe. She chastised me without entering the room. “What a naughty bad baby!”
“I’m afraid so,” Connie agreed with a theatrically loud sigh. My brunette babysitter removed the disposable soaker pad from between the cloth layers. She used the diaper’s damp absorbent lining to scoop up most of my sticky mess in the disposable liners, then scraped the remaining bits off my soiled nappy. “Some little girl just isn’t trying hard enough, I think.” Connie carefully folded up the dirty disposable, taped it closed, and stuffed it into the orange nappy sack. Once it was tied closed, the bulging nappy sack went into the bin, and she tossed my smelly wet nappies in my nappy bucket. Connie sat me up and helped me climb down from the change table.
When she relaxed her grip on my waist, I automatically dropped to my hands and knees. She and Mummy both nodded in thin-lipped approval. Connie pointed towards the en-suite and sternly ordered, “Crawl into the bathroom and we’ll sit you on your potty anyway, Baby Jennie. Go on! Off you go, you naughty baby girl!” I crawled into the bathroom, remorsefully chewing on my dummy teat, where my sister sat in a steaming tub almost overflowing with bubbles. Angie watched my humiliating entrance and I could see the contempt in her narrowed eyes.
“I’m sorry, Connie.” I heard Mummy step into the Nursery behind me to apologise for my unfortunate messy accident.
“That’s alright,” Connie blithely replied, untying the laces of her tennis sneakers. “You’ve only been potty-training her for a couple of days. We started Thursday night, right? It’s only Saturday night now. Some babies just take longer to train than others, that’s all.”
“Yes, but my Angelica is doing so well!” I felt my cheeks burn at the odious comparison, and the pregnant silence that followed.
“I better tend to Baby Jennie and put her on her potty before she makes a mess on the bathroom floor,” Connie finally suggested, as she kicked of her sandshoes and peeled down her socks.
Mummy gave a rueful laugh. “Good idea. I’m afraid that’s a distinct possibility with my hopeless little baby girl. Do you need a hand?”
“No, Angelica has already used her potty like a big girl, and she’s just about ready to hop out of the bath. I’ll give her a quick once-over in the tub and then get her ready for bed, while Baby Jennie has a little sit on her potty. You go and finish getting ready to go out.”
“Thanks, darling. You’re an angel!” Mummy called after her, as Connie padded barefoot into the en-suite bathroom.
Our babysitter shot me a condescending smirk when she saw me obediently waiting on all fours beside my potty. Connie lifted me into the low pink wooden chair with a grunt of effort, and settled my bare bum over the hole in the seat. She carefully tucked my limp clittie under the pink plastic scoop in front, and then wrapped the pink leather seat belt around me and buckled me into the humiliating baby commode. “There,” she muttered in satisfaction. The busty brunette stepped over to the vanity basin and washed her hands before standing beside the bath. I noticed Connie’s tiny toenails were painted the same brilliant red colour as her fingernails, and she had obviously chosen the shade to complement her vivid red lips. “Here, honey,” she crooned to my sister as she soaped up a wet washcloth. “Let Aunty Connie make sure you’re really clean.”
When Connie knelt beside the tub and leaned over to wash between Angie’s legs, her short, pleated tennis skirt rode up her back. She was wearing a pair of full-cut, high-waisted, white nylon panties stretched tautly over her plump round bottom. As she spread her knees wider for balance, the shiny satiny material clung to her feminine globes like it was painted on. When her hips rocked backwards and forwards, it looked like Connie’s bum crack was trying to eat the seat of her pretty white panties! There were several rows of frilly white ruffles decorating her curvaceous rear across the top of her crack, like my frilly rumba panties. I thought her big round bottom looked absolutely gorgeous poking out from under the revealing little skirt. Angie was chortling in delight as Connie gently scrubbed her delicate bits, then our babysitter ordered my sister to stand up. “On your feet, sweetie, and turn your face to the wall.” When Angie obeyed, Connie asked, “Bend over for me a little bit, sweetheart, and hold your botty cheeks open so I can give you a good scrub back there, too. Okay?”
Angelica giggled as she obediently held her little cheeks wide with the spread fingers of both hands. “What a good little helper you’re being tonight!” Connie praised her as she carefully scrubbed my sister’s exposed botty-hole. “Good girl, Angie! Alright darling, out you hop!” I tried not to look envious of the way our babysitter treated and talked to my sister, although I resentfully sucked louder on my dum-dums. Connie stood and lifted Angelica out of the tub, placing her little feet on the bathmat before wrapping her in a huge fluffy pink towel. She mostly dried her on the spot, before ushering the bouncing little girl ahead of her through the Nursery towards her own bedroom.
I sat there all alone on my potty for about ten minutes, I guess, and then Mummy strode into the bathroom on a click-clacking pair of navy-blue heels. “Have you done anything on that potty yet, Baby Jennie?” Mummy demanded of me, placing her curled fists on her hips. She spread her long legs wide and assumed a menacing waiting pose. From the contemptuous look on her beautiful painted face, I could tell she was expecting a negative response.
“I don’t think tho, Mummy,” I sadly replied around my mouth-filling dummy teat, unable to meet her steely olive-green eyes.
“Hmph,” she grunted dismissively, but she didn’t bother checking for herself. “Oh well. I haven’t got time to stand around here all night waiting for you to perform, little girl. I have to meet Ellen for dinner.” Mummy stepped over to where I sat bound and naked on my humiliating pink potty chair, and crouched down to give me a quick farewell peck on the cheek. She smelled divine too, like a fragrant cloud of sweet citrus fruits.
“You make sure you behave for your babysitter this evening like a good little girl, Baby Jennie,” Mummy cautioned me as she stood upright, frowning down at me in warning. “I’ve given Connie permission to spank your bare bottom if you give her any trouble! Any trouble at all! So you mind her and make sure you do everything she says. And if I hear from her that you needed a spanking, you’ll receive another dose from me first thing in the morning - with the paddle! Do you hear me?”
I quaked in fright, my bladder contracting in fear and releasing a tiny squirt of urine into my potty. The thin stream was so small, I don’t think Mummy heard the muffled splash in the pink plastic bowl. When she stared at me expectantly, awaiting my response, I tremulously replied, “Yeth Mummy, I- I hear you.” I sucked harder on my dum-dums, seeking the solace the soothing rubber teat normally provided.
“Good. I’ll see you in the morning, baby girl. Try and stay dry for Mummy - or at least, try not to poop your nappy tonight, like you usually do. Alright, baby? Bye-bye.” She ignored my embarrassed blushes and gave me a quick wave, turned smartly on her high heels and strode out of the bathroom.
After another five or ten minutes, my poor bot-bot was practically sinking through the hole in my potty-chair. It was starting to feel really uncomfortable! I gave a mewl of thanks when Connie eventually returned and stood in front of me. She squatted down and spread my knees, peering between my splayed thighs to see if I had managed to produce anything in my potty. “Hmph,” she grunted, disappointed by my relative lack of results. Her muscular brown thighs carelessly drifted apart as she concentrated between my legs. I could see the shiny white crotch of her tight nylon panties, where the damp gusset cleaved to the sweet moist flesh underneath like a second skin.
I tore my gaze from her attractive feminine mound to peer down between my own spread thighs. There was a shallow yellow puddle in my pink potty, but that was all. Connie stood and turned to the vanity bench, and began opening and closing the drawers as though searching for something. “Aha!” she cried, and she took out the box of thin latex gloves and slipped one onto her right hand. I watched her with wide eyes, my tiny tool instantly thickening at the sight. When she snapped the blue cap off the tub of Vaseline lying on the bench, my clittie stiffened even more. The swelling shaft was trapped beneath the pink plastic scoop of my potty, with nowhere for it to expand.
Connie stepped behind me and unfastened the seat belt, before drawing the thin leather strap around my body and tossing it out of the way. She stepped in front of me and crouched down again. “Open your legs wide,” she commanded, and reached down between my spread legs. I bit hard on the amber rubber teat in my mouth and shuddered in arousal when she grabbed hold of my pulsating stiffie in her warm gloved fist. She gave the rock-hard shaft a few firm squeezes to milk out the last few drops of urine. I moaned uncontrollably at the thrilling sensations. Connie chuckled in derision as she dragged my stiffie out from under the pink plastic scoop in front. The sensitive tip scraped against the rough edge of the underside, making me gasp in pain. But it didn’t seem to affect my pulsating erection, which slapped noisily against my tummy before pointing compass-like to the ceiling.
“Hold your thingy against your tummy, baby, and lift your nut-sack out of the way with your other hand,” Connie gently commanded. Now that we were on our own, her attitude towards me had dramatically softened. I wondered if her ruthless behaviour earlier had mainly been for Mummy’s benefit? I eagerly clutched my throbbing stiffie in my right fist and pressed the hot crimson head against my belly, then reached down between my legs with my left hand and grabbed hold of my hairless ball sack. I gently grasped my testicles and lifted my wrinkled pink sack high out of her way, cupping my balls against my body and leaning forward to see what she intended doing.
“Now sit back a little more, and tilt your hips up. That’s it, darling,” she cooed. “Now spread your legs wide. Wider, baby. That’s it. Good girl!” She held up the tub of Vaseline in her bare left hand and dipped her gloved right middle finger deep inside, swirling it around to make sure the whole length was covered in slippery gel. Then she leaned forward and threaded her gloved hand between my splayed thighs, sliding her greasy fingertip backwards over my sensitive perineum as she delicately probed for my wrinkled pink opening. “Open up, baby girl,” she tenderly crooned. “Open up for me… Ahhh! That’s better!”
“Ahhh!” I likewise gasped when her lubricated finger penetrated my anus, but mine was a cry of pleasure rather than mere satisfaction. Connie slowly slid her longest finger inside my twitching back door, all the way to last knuckle, leaning closer to me as she tried to feel inside me as far as possible. Her warm gloved palm pressed against the sensitive place between my legs, and her huge swaying breasts gently mashed against my body. For a moment I wanted to lean forward and press my face into that inviting fleshy cleavage, but her finger moving inside my bottom was too thrilling to ignore. Instead I leaned right back and tilted my hips up even higher to aid her anal investigation. “Oh-oh!” Connie cried in dismay. She leaned back so she could see my face when she muttered, “I can feel some poo-poo up there, baby girl! Why didn’t you try and push it out while you’ve been sitting on the potty?”
I blushed and ducked away from her accusing stare, but despite my pink-cheeked embarrassment, my throbbing clittie pulsated madly in my fist. “I don’t know,” I mumbled in misery. Connie shook her head in disbelief and clucked her tongue in irritation.
“Silly girl! Try and push my finger out. Go on, push it out like you’re trying to do a poo. Go on baby! Show me how you do poo-poos on your potty. Take a deep breath, hold it and push,” she ordered, talking down sweetly to me like I really was a two-year-old girl in need of instruction.
I sat up as straight as I could with her wrist jammed between my thighs and her finger plugged up my arse. I obediently sucked in a huge lungful of air, clamped my mouth closed around my dummy-teat, and pushed down hard with my tummy muscles. I could feel my excited hard clittie swelling in my fist as it engorged with fresh blood. My cheeks turned red as I grunted loudly with effort, and I was rewarded by Connie’s cry of delight. “Oh good girl! That’s it, baby! Keep pushing! Good girl!” I took another deep breath and held it, and gripped my throbbing tool tighter. I bit down on the amber rubber teat as I pushed down hard again, trying to force out her wiggling finger. It was impossible! Instead I felt a flow of warm mush surge out of my straining hole, and my crooning babysitter slowly lowered her cupped palm so it could fill with my soft crap.
“That’s my girl! Good girl! Keep pushing, baby. That’s right, good bubba! Are we all done now? Have we finished doing poo-poos on the potty? Aww, good baby. I think so,” Connie prattled to me like she was talking to a real toddler. “Sit back again now, baby, and spread your little leggies nice and wide for me,” she cooed. I was panting from a combination of exertion and arousal as I meekly followed her crooned commands. She slowly withdrew her finger from my twitching anus and she snickered at my moan of disappointment. Connie carefully eased her gloved hand from between my spread thighs before holding her cupped palm under my chin so I could see what I managed to push out. I grabbed the dangling plastic chain of my dum-dums lest it flop into the smelly mess. The entire length of one gloved finger was thickly coated in sticky brown poo-poos, and there was a small mound of dark-brown turds sitting in the centre of her palm. The rank aroma of my fresh excrement filled my nostrils, but Connie didn’t seem to mind the nasty smell.
She grinned in delight and insisted, “See, baby? There was more poo-poos up inside your naughty little botty hole! But I think we got all the nasty stuff out now.” Connie stood and turned to the open toilet bowl, and reached down and swirled her gloved hand under the water to dislodge my sticky poop. When she managed to shake off most of the tacky crap, she stood and carefully removing the dirty glove. She made sure it was turned all the way inside-out before she crumpled it up and tossed it in the bin under the vanity. I was surprised when she took out another single fresh white latex glove and slipped it on her right hand again, before walking over to stand beside me. “Alright, baby girl. You can hop off your potty now, but I want you down on all fours. Come on, baby,” she sang invitingly. “On your hands and knees for Aunty Connie.”
I reluctantly released my thrilling grip on my pulsating clittie and awkwardly clambered off the potty onto my hands and knees. She cooed in approval, “Good girl! Now rest your forehead on the bathmat, and lift that little botty right up high in the air for me. That’s it. Good baby.” She wiped my messy bottom clean with a handful of toilet tissue, tossed it in the toilet, and flushed the contents away. “Now let Aunty Connie check that little bot-bot one more time,” She didn’t use much Vaseline this time, but I assumed my back passage had already been well coated by her previous application. “Ooo! Baby Jennie is nice and open now, isn’t she?” she teased me, as she slid two greasy gloved fingers straight inside my twitching botty-hole. I couldn’t prevent my helpless grunts of excitement when Connie’s fingers penetrated me all the way to the last knuckle. “Ahh! That’s better,” she muttered, grinning in delight. “Baby feels nice and clean back there now, doesn’t she?”
I sighed with disappointment when she plucked out her erotically twirling digits. I raised my hot red face from the bathmat when she gaily ordered, “Look, baby!” She held up her gloved hand in front of my flushed face, and twirled her splayed fingers around for my inspection. Even though there was a layer of shiny grease covering her two longest fingers, there was no trace of brown filth staining her glove this time. “Good girl! See? No more poo-poos.” She peeled off the latex glove and disposed of it, and then pointed to the filled bath. “Time for you to climb in the tub, little girl. Go on, in you hop.”
Connie plucked out my dummy and tossed it on the vanity bench, where the plastic chain and clip clattered against the mirror. She turned back and grabbed my shoulder when I stumbled to my feet, and she helped me clumsily clamber into the frothy bath. I eagerly sat in the hot tub, grateful when the strawberry-scented bubbles rose around my bobbing stiffie, concealing my arousal from my giggling babysitter’s bemused gaze. “We have to make sure we don’t get your pretty curls wet, baby,” she chuckled. She fitted a frilly pink nylon shower cap over my head, making sure every one of my platinum curls was safely encased inside the wetproof plastic.
As with Angelica, Connie soaped up a warm wet washcloth and proceed to scrub every inch of my body, treating me like a useless toddler who couldn’t be trusted to bathe herself. She washed my face and the back of my neck, and she even scrubbed behind my ears. I enjoyed it when she gently scoured my back with the flannel for a few minutes, rubbing in small circles all the way down to my bottom. I leaned forward to make the task easier for her. I clutched my pounding clittie beneath the bubbles and discretely caressed the spongy head with my cupped palm, pleased that she couldn’t see that I was playing with myself under the water. Connie washed my hands and arms, and made me raise my hands over my head, cooing, “Reach for the stars, baby girl.” When I obeyed, she scrubbed my hairless armpits, then she let me lower my arms while she washed my chest and tummy. As soon as my right hand splashed below the surface, it returned to fondling the sensitive swollen tip of my pulsating clittie. I reluctantly released my grip on my excitable rock-hard tool when her hand plunged under the water, although I gasped in excitement when she wrapped the soapy washcloth all the way around my straining erection.
“Ahh, baby likes that!” she snickered knowingly, watching my face carefully as she thrillingly stroked my pounding tool again and again. I panted with arousal and desperately thrust my hips against the soft wet washcloth, hungrily seeking more stimulation. I groaned and pouted in disappointment when Connie released my swollen clittie and reached further down, gently washing my tender ball sack and the sensitive spot between my legs. She chuckled at my protruding bottom lip when she moved down my thighs and scrubbed behind my knees. Connie commented with an envious pout, “Your little legs are so soft and smooth, baby!” She finished up washing the tops and bottoms of my feet, and I had to giggle when she ran the soapy flannel between each and every one of my pink-painted toesies. It felt good, but it tickled like crazy! “Alright, baby girl. Stand up and face the wall,” she instructed in that sing-song baby voice of hers. I scrambled to my feet and turned to face the wall, pressing my hot damp forehead against the cool white tiles. Without being told, I bent right over and cheekily thrust out my bottom, and I reached back with both hands and stretched my butt-cheeks sluttishly wide.
Connie laughed at my submissive stance, and obliged me by scouring between my spread cheeks again and again with the warm soapy washer until she was certain I was shining-clean back there. My swollen clittie twitched and throbbed maddeningly every time she stroked my sensitive puffy anal lips, until I grew desperate to caress my pounding erection. I was distracted by the sound of her pulling out the bath plug, and as the tub began to drain, she turned me around and helped me climb out of the bath. Connie chuckled at my uncontrollable arousal, amused by the way my pounding clittie kept noisily slapping my wet tummy as I clumsily clambered out. She wrapped a dry pink bath towel around my damp shoulders, took off my pink nylon shower cap, and then proceeded to vigorously rub me all over with the absorbent fluffy towel.
She made sure I was completely dry everywhere before she wrapped me up in the towel again and bundled me into the Nursery. I snatched my dum-dums from the vanity bench as we shuffled past, and she grinned and shook her head disparagingly when I compulsively stuffed the satisfying rubber teat back in my mouth. I assumed we were heading for the change table, and I was surprised when she steered me towards the open pink-painted steel crib. Her pink nylon backpack was lying on the floor beside my cot and when she lifted me in, I noticed the fuzzy pink blanket was covered by my white cotton, plastic-backed change mat. I frowned in momentary confusion.
“Sit up, baby,” Connie commanded as she ripped away my towel. Even though it was a warm evening, I shivered at the sudden drop in temperature after the hot bath, and my little nipples grew stiffly erect. “Do you really want to be a girl?” she earnestly questioned me, her expression terribly serious.
I nodded just as seriously. “Yeth!” I desperately cried around the teat of my dum-dums, “Yeth Aunty Connie! I weally want to be a widdle girl. Weally twuly!”
She smiled at my earnest heartfelt response, and nodded in understanding. Connie leaned in and grasped me under the armpits, grunting with effort as she helped me to sit up leaning against my pillow, with my bare back resting against the gaily painted wooden headboard of my crib. “Then we need to have a little talk.” I was completely naked and she giggled in derision when I defensively clutched my bobbing stiffie with my right hand, cupping my ball sack protectively with the other. “You know you’re way to young to be having sex,” she scolded me, wagging her index finger under my nose. I admired her glossy red nail polish. She tried to look stern and I tried to look suitably penitent, but it was difficult when she kept smirking at me.
“It wathn’t my fault,” I feebly protested. “David made me do it!”
“It didn’t sound like anyone was forcing you when I caught you two going at it on your old change table,” she reminded me with a wicked teasing grin. “I didn’t hear you telling him to stop. Quite the reverse, in fact.”
“I did tell him to thtop - at firtht,” I tremulously insisted, trying to conceal my guilty expression when I remembered how excited it made me feel to have David’s cock thrusting deep inside me.
“Uh-huh,” Connie agreed, although she sounded like she didn’t believe a word I was saying. “Sure baby. Anyway, I just wanted to make sure you knew that what you did was wrong. You’re too little to even think about having intercourse.” When she saw my confused expression, she clarified; “You know - having sex with a boy. Letting him put his penis inside of you.” I nodded in understanding, even though my throbbing clittie instantly grew harder in my fist.
Connie bent over and picked up her pink nylon backpack, and sat it in the middle of my crib mattress. “But there are fun alternatives for us girls.” She opened the long zipper that went all the way around, until the back section flopped open to reveal a bulging brown paper bag, a used tube of ointment, and some flat silver packets. “I thought of this when we had sex education classes last term at school.” She picked up the brown paper bag, held it high, and tilted it upside-down. A half-dozen dark-green zucchinis tumbled across the change mat, and I stared at the smooth-skinned marrows in wide-eyed surprise. Connie’s grin was positively wicked when she demanded, “Which one of these zucchinis most reminds you of David, baby girl?”
My tattooed eyebrows climbed up almost to my hairline, I was so shocked! But I couldn’t help mentally evaluating the firm tubular vegetables, and I pointed to the one that had a similar length and girth to my muscular young neighbour’s massive erect penis. Connie grinned and nodded in apparent agreement. “Yeah, that’s what I thought, too.” She picked up the eight-inch long marrow and wrapped her fist around it, and her thumb and middle finger barely overlapped. She obviously had bigger hands than me. “Yep, that’s about the right size,” she expertly estimated, but then she frowned and shook her head in disappointment. “A nice big cock - but attached to a very inadequate, stupid little boy,” was her harsh but fair estimation. She dropped the zucchini and picked up the half-empty white tube, and held it out so I could read the label - ‘KY lubricant’. “Lube,” she briefly explained. She dropped the crumpled tube on the change mat and picked up one of the silver foil packets. “Condoms - you can buy both these things at any supermarket.”
She ripped open the foil wrapper with her large white teeth and withdrew a slimy rubber thing that looked like an uninflated large balloon. “This is a condom - which every boy must wear on his penis before you let him have sex with you. If it’s not on – it’s not on! Understand?” I nodded, watching with wide eyes as Connie unfurled the greasy transparent amber condom like an empty sausage sack. She picked up the discarded ‘David-size’ marrow, held it up with the fatter end upright, and threaded it inside the rubber ring. “Condoms prevent you catching any diseases and stop you from getting pregnant.” She leaned one hip against the side of my crib and laughed raucously. “Although I don’t think that last one would be a problem for you, baby girl!”
I watched in fascination as she wrapped her fingers around the phallic marrow and rolled the slimy lubricated condom down over the long green vegetable. It looked like Connie was giving the zucchini a hand-job, and I abruptly wished she would demonstrate her erotic technique on my rampant twitching tool. She didn’t stop till the sheer latex sheath was completely unrolled, and the floppy rubber ring at the end dangled past the stalk end of the marrow. She held it up with one hand and pointed to the remaining zucchinis scattered on the change mat with the other. “Okay, baby. You pick one, and show me how you put a condom on it.” I reluctantly released my pounding hard-on and chose a more modest specimen; about half-way between David’s monster and my tiny erect tool. Connie nodded in approval and handed me a silver foil packet. It took me several attempts to tear the wrapping open with my teeth. “It’s not as easy as it looks,” she giggled, when I struggled to unroll the slimy condom and feed it over the bulbous end of my chosen marrow.
I finally managed to stuff the vegetable inside the floppy prophylactic, and then Connie showed me her method of rolling it down using her fist. “That’s it, baby,” she advised me, as I ineptly masturbated my vegetable, feeling my cheeks warm with embarrassment at my clumsiness. “Keep unrolling it, till it’s all the way to the bottom. Good girl,” she praised me, when I successfully completed my task. She threw the unlucky remaining zucchinis back in the brown paper bag, scooped up the unused silver packets of condoms, and swept everything into her nylon backpack and zipped it mostly closed. Suddenly her expression turned serious, and she held up that warning finger again. “Now listen to me, little girl. You can’t ever tell your Mummy or Daddy about this. Understand?” I nodded obediently, unsure exactly what she was talking about. “This will be our little secret. Just between you and me. Alright?”
There was a familiar ring to those words and I started in fear. David had said exactly the same thing to me after he took advantage of me last week. But I felt sure Connie only had the best of intentions for me. I relaxed and nodded in compliance while continuing to slowly massage my swollen hard-on. The toothily-grinning brunette dropped her pink backpack to the floor and grinned salaciously at me as she cheekily raised her pleated tennis skirt around her pudgy hips. I watched entranced as she reached underneath with both hands and tugged down her silky white nylon panties. When they puddled around her bare feet, she stepped clear of the frilly knickers and crawled into my cot.
Connie sat back facing me, leaning against the wooden panel at the foot end of my crib, our bare feet almost touching. She lifted the hem of her tiny pleated skirt up to her tummy, flexed her knees, and then boldly spread her smooth tanned thighs. I stared at the milk-white flesh normally concealed from the sun by her bikini bottom, enraptured by the sight of her exposed womanhood. I was fascinated by the inch-wide, furry brown strip that concealed her nether lips from my view. It looked like a tiny fuzzy landing strip for butterflies. As Connie tilted her hips up and opened her legs wider, I could see the darker opening of her delicate slit, from her pale perineum up to where it disappeared in the furry tangle of her dark-brown bush.
She noticed the direction of my intense gaze and giggled in amusement when she demanded, “Are you really sure you want to be a girl, Baby Jennie?” When I earnestly nodded, she leaned forward and slapped my hand away from my pounding tool. She grabbed it instead, wrapping her fist around my throbbing shaft and making me moan with pleasure. “Are you really, really sure?” When I gasped and nodded again, she squeezed my clittie harder and informed me; “They’ll have to cut this thing off, you know?”
This time I gasped in shock. “What?” I demanded in horror. “They have to cut off my clittie?” She giggled at my use of such a feminine name for my inadequate male appendage.
“Yes, darling. That’s what they have to do to turn boys into girls. The doctors have to cut it off, and that ugly little nut-sack, too.” She released her thrilling grip on my pulsating tool and derisively flicked my sensitive wrinkled sack. I defensively cupped both hands over my genitals, making her laugh again.
“How do you know?” I fearfully asked, and shuddered at her ready response.
“My two older sisters are both nurses, and one works in the theatre. You know, the surgical theatre. She told me all about it. They cut off your… you know, your clittie, and peel it. Then they drill a hole between your legs, and use the skin from your clittie to form a new vagina inside you.”
“Ouch!” I mumbled, cringing at the imagined pain and frowning at the horrible thought. For one terrible moment, my swollen clittie started to deflate in fear.
When she saw my horrified expression, Connie tried to reassure me. “They knock you out first, silly! You know? Apparently after you heal it can be just as sensitive to the touch - except inside-out. And they use the left-over skin from your empty nut-sack to make a pretty pair of pussy lips, like mine,” she informed me, placing her left hand between her legs and using her fingers to gently pry open her delicate pink slit. My shrinking clittie instantly grew rock-hard again. I gave it a few reassuring squeezes as I stared in wonder at the hidden treasure between her legs. “Let go of your clittie, baby, and pick up your zucchini,” she ordered. Connie picked up her condom-covered marrow with her right hand and held it up in front of me. She flipped open the cap of the tube of lube with her left thumb and squeezed out a dollop of clear gel onto the fat end of her chosen vegetable. “Oops!” she giggled, as the watery lubricant began to run down one side. She twirled the marrow around and tilted it sideways, and then expertly twisted it from side to side, making sure there was a thin layer of slippery gel covering most of the condom.
She reached over and indicated I should hold up my condom-wrapped vegetable. When I timidly presented it to her, she squirted a measure of clear lubricating gel on the fat top of mine, too. “Gotta use lube,” she reminded me with a cheeky grin, as she snapped the cap closed and dropped the tube into the top of the open backpack lying on the floor. “Now watch me, Baby Jennie.” I stopped twirling my dripping zucchini when she poked the wet end of hers between her splayed legs. My eyes went wide when she used the fingers of her left hand to gently pry open her pussy lips. She delicately threaded the greasy condom-covered end between her engorging genitals, then sighed appreciatively as she rubbed the slick coating up and down the length of her retracting outer labia. The fat end slipped an inch inside her dilating opening. “Oh baby!” she moaned, “that feels so good! Mmm!”
I lay back and opened my little legs wide too, raising my knees and trying to stare down between my cheeks at my hidden rosebud. I raised my gaze when Connie swapped hands, using her left to slowly pump the huge fake phallus ever deeper in and out of her hole. The slippery fingers of her right hand moved an inch higher to massage her throbbing clitoris.
“Ohhh!” Connie groaned, clamping down on her plump red bottom lip with her prominent overbite, her eyes scrunched closed and her pretty face contorted in passion. “Try it, baby,” she urged me in a thick and throaty voice. Then her big brown eyes popped open, glowing with concern. “You don’t have to, you understand? Only if you want to…” I nodded my understanding and lifted my sack with my right hand, and obediently steered the condom-covered end of the zucchini between my cheeks with my left. I carefully rubbed the lube-coated knob around my tender back door, blindly massaging my puffy opening with the tip of firm slick marrow.
“That’s it, darling,” Connie purred encouragingly. “Put it in your pussy. It feels just like a big hard cock! You’ll like it, I promise.” It felt good holding the slippery rounded end against my naughty little hole, and I used both hands to direct the tip of my pretend-cock up and inwards.
I twirled it around as I pressed more firmly against my sweet sensitive opening, and my mouth dropped open and my eyes flew wide. “Ohhh!” Like Connie, I gasped from a combination of surprise and pleasure when my well-used sphincter obligingly dilated to my delicate probing touch. The fat end of my marrow slipped a few thrilling inches inside me, stretching me open. I released my ball sack and clutched my pulsating clittie instead, and Connie laughed at the changing expressions on my face.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” When I blushed furiously and nodded, she continued in a husky voice, “If you warm them in the microwave first for a few seconds, they really feel like the real thing, too. So hot and hard…. Mmmm…” Connie mumbled appreciatively, then broke off to concentrate on sliding the fat monster deeply in and out of her squelching wet hole. She used the tips of her right index and middle fingers to feverishly massage her erect love button at the same time. I recognised the familiar circling pattern of her bright red nails. “Oh yeah, it feels so good!” she groaned. “Ohhh! So good… Aaahhh!”
Her red painted mouth gaped wide when she rammed the thick hard vegetable all the way inside her greedy opening. I similarly lay back and thrust my pretend-cock all the way in and out of my sluttish back door, moaning at the intensely pleasurable sensations. Some of the lube ended up on my other hand, which pounded up and down the length of my throbbing tool as I watched my naughty babysitter masturbate towards a shuddering climax.
“So good…. So good,” she babbled mindlessly. Her mouth opened wide again and her sensuous top lip peeled back to reveal her protruding buck teeth. “Oohhhhh!” Connie licked her painted lips that had suddenly gone dry. She watched my frantic efforts to match her thrusts through sleepy half-closed eyelids. Her tits seemed to grow bigger before my eyes, and I could see her stiffening nipples poking out through the thick cotton sports bra and her tight singlet top. When she slid the monster tool most of the way out of her slick vagina, her outer lips clung to the sides like a hungry mouth unwilling to let go. When she pushed it back in, her delicate rose-pink inner labia disappeared completely. Her knees began to tremble and she let her legs flop obscenely wide. She started making these sharp panting noises that drove me wild with excitement. “Does it feel good, Baby Jennie?’ Connie demanded between impassioned grunts, and I furiously nodded in agreement.
“Goo-goo-goo-good!” I finally managed to breathlessly mumble around the rubber teat clenched between my teeth, intent on bringing myself to orgasm. She laughed brightly, her big brown eyes opening wide to hazily stare at me for a few seconds.
“You sound like a real baby when you talk like that,” she giggled breathlessly. “Say that again.” She thrust the zucchini more rapidly in and out of her sloshing wet hole as I willingly complied.
“Goo-goo ga-ga goo-goo!” I babbled like a mindless infant, hamming it up for her. Her eyelids clamped tightly shut for a few moments, and then her big brown eyes flew impossibly wide. I could see the whites all the way around her chocolate-brown irises.
“Oh! Oh! Oohhh!” Connie squealed loudly in the heat of passion. I hoped my sister wouldn’t hear her excited yelps of joy. The voluptuous brunette’s swirling fingers danced in frantic circles over her swollen clit as she shoved the huge green monster all the way inside her voracious pussy, and then she violently climaxed. For a moment, I thought the condom-covered marrow had disappeared completely inside her body. Connie clamped her thighs together and sat up straight, as though to drive it in all the way to the hilt. She inhaled deeply and held her breath until her face turned red, and then released it in a loud explosive cry. “Aaarghh!”
“Ga-ga-ga, goo-goo-goo… Ga-ga! Ga-ga!” I babbled excitedly as the wonderful sensations threatened to overwhelm me. My sphincter muscles wrapped tight around the solid marrow I had jammed up my sensitive puffy anus, like a firm log of poo that never ended. My lubricated fist was a blur sliding up and down the length of my throbbing swollen shaft. I could feel the bad baby juice surging up from my balls, progressing along the tube inside my swollen clittie, ready to explode all over me. “Goo-goo! Ga-ga! Ga-ga-goo-goo-goo,” I gasped in excitement, throwing myself into my baby role with gay abandon.
Connie’s sleepy brown eyes lazily drifted open, and she wore a secretive self-satisfied smile on her face as she relaxed back against the foot end of my crib. I watched her trembling tanned thighs float apart again. The condom-covered marrow gradually oozed out of her relaxed open vagina, like a shiny fat turd slowly sliding out of a greasy wet poo-poo hole. That was the thought that drove me over the edge. She watched in wry amusement as the creamy jism exploded from the tip of my pulsating clittie, shooting up over my tummy and chest, some even splashing me in the face. I squealed in ecstasy. “Ga-ga-ga! Ga-ga-ma-ma!”
“That’s it, baby girl! Milk it all out while you babble like a baby. That’s it, go on,” she throatily encouraged me with that sultry, toothy half-smile. “Make those cute little baby noises for me.”
“Ga-ba! Ga-goo-ga-ba-ba! Ga-baaahhh!” I cried, the nonsense syllables making me feel even more like a helpless little baby and pushing me to new heights of arousal. My anal ring contracted violently as I climaxed, ejecting the smooth-skinned marrow from my slippery hole like a shot from a cannon. “Ma-maaa!” My dum-dums fell from my gaping mouth as I uncontrollably exploded from both ends.
I squealed at the combined pleasurable sensations of pooping and cumming simultaneously, feeling like a totally helpless baby. The creamy baby juice continued to pulse out of the end of my clittie while excess lube dribbled wetly out of my slackened sphincter. “Ga-ga, goo-goo, ga-ga-ma-ma! Ma-ma!” My incoherent rambling slowly dried up as I helplessly shuddered and twitched to completion, my little legs writhing and thrashing on the change mat like an overexcited infant’s.
We lay there for a few minutes trying to catch our breath, and then Connie began to quietly giggle. I opened my eyes and peered at her in confusion, but she wasn’t laughing at me - just with relief. When she noticed I was staring at her, she demanded in a lazy husky drawl; “Was that good, baby? Did my little girl like that?”
“Ga-ga-goo!” I cheekily replied, my tired but satisfied smile making her giggle once more. There was sticky white goo all over my hand when I inspected my trembling fingers, and Connie gave my suddenly disgusted expression a grunt of acknowledgement as she sat up.
She slid across the crackling change mat and nimbly hopped out of the cot, leaving her juicy condom-clad zucchini lying in a damp patch at her end. My own well-used marrow lay between my spread thighs in a similar dirty puddle of glistening lube. “Let me get some baby wipes for you, little girl.” Her derisive giggles grew louder when she returned to examine the mess I had made of myself. “Look at you, little girl! You’ve got cum everywhere! What a messy baby girl,” Connie gently scolded me.
I peered down at myself and saw Connie was right! There was bad baby juice splattered on my tummy, over my chest, and all around my shrivelling genitals. I thought, ‘It’s so much easier when I do my cummies inside my warm wet nappies. No clean-up required!’ She grabbed a handful of moist baby wipes from the plastic tub on the shelf over the change table, and when she returned, she wiped up my warm sticky mess with motherly concern. Connie cleaned my hands and my shrinking clittie, and kindly wiped up the bad baby juice on my tummy and chest. “Lift your chin up, baby girl.” She giggled as she carefully scrubbed some goo from my cheek and neck. “You even got some on your face!”
Connie disappeared into the bathroom and when she returned a few minutes later, she was carrying a steaming wet washcloth. As she wiped clean my languid body like an attentive mother, I noticed she was wearing a fresh pair of the thin latex gloves. Despite having recently climaxed, my sensitive shrunken clittie twitched with arousal at the sight. “Lift your little botty for me, sweetheart,” she crooned, and she tenderly wiped my puffy pink hole clean, too, carefully scrubbing my raised cheeks and then between my legs when I gratefully lowered my rear. When she felt sure I was perfectly clean, she tossed the washcloth aside and delicately picked up the dirty zucchini from between my splayed thighs with her gloved fingertips. “Let’s tidy these up first,” she muttered as she collected her own sticky vegetable from the damp spot at her end of the change mat. Connie walked back into the bathroom, peeling the dirty condoms from the well-used marrows.
When she returned, she was carrying the dark-green vegetables in her bare hand and the bathroom bin in the other. “I rolled the condoms into a tissue and shoved them in the bin,” she informed me, “so your Mummy won’t find them. Okay?” I nodded silently in reply, grateful for her wisdom. She held up the two zucchinis still warm from our bodies and dropped them in the bin. “I’ll empty this in the garbage bin outside. We certainly wouldn’t want to eat them now, would we?” I frantically shook my head in denial, and she giggled at her own silly question and left the bin standing beside the door to the landing.
She clapped her hands and then opened her arms invitingly wide as she returned to me. “Come on, baby girl!” she brightly urged me, and I couldn’t understand how she could seem so full of beans when I felt totally drained and exhausted. “It’s time to get you ready for bed.” I sighed heavily when she made me sit up and slide wetly towards the edge of my crib. Suddenly I felt too tired to move, and Connie had to half-carry, half-drag me over to the change table. I climbed up and lay back on the cool pink vinyl surface, letting my eyes drift closed while she bustled about preparing my night nappies. I felt something soft and recognisable press against my puffy pink lips, and they parted by reflex to accept the dummy-teat Connie gently thrust between them. I gratefully sucked on the firm amber teat, the turned-up pink plastic ring bobbing against the bottom of my nose in that familiar soothing way.
Connie went through the usual diapering routine with the minimum of instructions, seeming to realise that I was too worn out to be of much help. She wrapped my thick fluffy nappies around my loins and tightly pinned them over my hips, and then she threaded my limp feet into a yellow pair of crackling plastic panties, and pulled them over the top. She sat me up to slip a sheer yellow cotton baby doll nightgown over my head. I didn’t recognize the nightie, although it was very pretty. Connie had to feed my hands through the short puffy sleeves one at a time. I was too weary to help her, and watched through sleepy half-closed eyelids as she attached the decorative plastic clip of my dummy chain to the lace-edged collar of my nightie.
“No, no!” I grumbled weakly in protest, snatching my hand away when Connie attempted to slide one of the thin pink leather mittens over my limp fingers.
“Shhh, baby,” Connie softly warned me. “Shhh! Your Mummy said I had to put your baby mittens on your handy-pandies before I put you down for the night. Understand? She’ll be coming in to check on you in your crib when she comes home tonight, you know?” She frowned when I tried to pull my hand away again, and rebuked me in a sharper tone. “Baby Jennie! Stop that!” Her expression turned mournful when she demanded, “Don’t you want me to be your babysitter any more?”
I raised my head to stare into her questioning wide brown eyes. What did she mean? I shook my head in denial, mumbling, “No, no!” I desperately wanted Connie to keep babysitting me - especially after tonight!
“If your Mummy comes home tonight and finds you aren’t wearing your baby mittens to bed, she probably won’t let me babysit you ever again. Is that what you want?”
I frantically shook my head once more, automatically sucking louder and harder on my soothing dum-dums. “No Aunty Connie, no!” I protested, my bottom lip poking out in disappointment.
She gave me a small smile of approval when I let her take my hand. “Alright then. Now curl up you fingers so I can get this on... Good girl! That’s it!” She buckled the thin white leather strap around my limp wrist, gave my bound fist a satisfied pat, and then reached for the other mitten on the shelf above the change table.
I was too tired to object further, and passively let Connie feed my other fist into the floppy pink mitten and buckle it around my slender wrist. “Good girl,” she praised me, when I let her do what she wanted. I groaned in dismay when she produced the two tiny brass padlocks, too. In moments, my humiliating baby mittens were irremovably locked in place. Connie held up my bound fists in front of my face and gave them a gentle shake as she chuckled, “I guess Mummy doesn’t want her naughty little baby girl playing with herself tonight. Hey baby?”
Connie sniggered at my disgruntled expression. She left me sitting on the change table while she removed the stained change mat from my crib. “I better toss this in the wash, too,” she muttered, as she folded the crackling plastic-backed mat into a neat bundle and dropped it in my nappy bucket. She placed the heavy nappy bucket next to the bin beside the door and returned to me, smiling toothily and holding out her hands in invitation. “Come on, baby girl. Let’s get you into bed.” Connie lifted me down and helped me stagger to my crib. She had to boost me up and roll me inside without any real assistance from me. I flopped on my back exhausted, my knees naturally splayed wide because of the bulk of fluffy material between my legs. I sucked noisily on my dum-dums as she raised the side rail until it locked in place. Connie collected her things and picked up the nappy bucket and the bin from the bathroom, and she disappeared downstairs for a few minutes. When she returned, she was carrying one of my humiliating frilly bibbies in one hand and a big pink baby bottle full of warm milk in the other.
“We just need to put this on you first, sweetheart.” This pale-pink bibbie bore the humiliating message, ‘Little Miss Squishy Britches.’ Connie tucked my bottle upright against the headboard beside my pillow, reached through the pink steel bars, and then lifted my head so she could slip the bib around my neck and clip it in place. “Here darling,” she crooned, as she plucked out my dummy and replaced it with the dripping teat of my bottle. “Have a little drink from your bottle. I know you must be thirsty. Good girl.” I gratefully sucked down a mouthful of warm sweet milk, thanking her with my eyes and giving her a tired smile.
Connie held the end of my bottle for me like a loving mother, smiling toothily in encouragement until I had drained almost half of it. Then she took my mittened hands and made me clumsily clasp the emptying plastic vessel by myself. “That’s it, baby. Hold your own bottle like a good little girl. That’s it.” She unclipped my dummy chain from the collar of my nightie and attached it to the wide white lace collar of my frilly bibbie instead. I let the warm bottle rest comfortably on my chest, sleepily slurping on the rubber teat. Connie eased the fuzzy pink blanket over my exhausted body and then gently patted my bouncing blonde curls, crooning softly to me in nonsense baby-talk until I fell into a heavy dreamless sleep.
To be continued in chapter 32.
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