Baby Candy Chapter 3 free porn video

Dear girls, thank you so much for all those encouraging comments you posted. I hope this latest version makes my sissy baby readers here make lots of squirty messes in their nappies! Hugs from Baby Jennie Chapter 3. Reduced to Babyhood We soon arrived at her friend's place, a huge old-fashioned red brick cottage on a half-acre block. It had two floors, with a wide tin-roofed veranda on two sides. I clutched the damp towel against my trembling frame with my free hand as my Aunty dragged me inside. Mandy was an attractive mid-thirties brunette, much taller and heavier than Aunty June. She must have stood well over six feet tall in her flat Indian sandals, because she was almost eye-level with Aunty June in her glamorous high heels. My scowling Aunty told Mandy, "This is my wicked pants-wetting teenage nephew, who needs to be turned into my well- behaved little toddler niece!" She told her good friend, "I decided to name her Candy, because she looks so sweet," before adding in a tone of disgust; "Unfortunately, she hasn't been successfully potty-trained yet." June asked Mandy if she could borrow some of her younger girl's clothes for this express purpose. "Sure thing," her grinning friend replied, more than happy to oblige. "I've got some of Eliza's old training panties in a drawer somewhere, and I'm sure I've got something pretty she - I mean, he can wear." Mandy laughed at my troubled expression, but then she caught sight of my painted finger and toenails. She commented in a scornful voice, "Ooo, look at her pretty pink nails! Are you sure she's a boy?" She laughed a deep booming laugh as she led us upstairs to her daughters' bedrooms. Mandy has three girls: Julia, Kate and Eliza, and they were eight, six, and four years of age respectively. When Mandy pulled out some of her youngest daughter's frocks from a cupboard, I realised with horror that her six-year-old must be almost as tall as me, and the eight-year-old girls was certainly taller. Mandy chuckled, "I love his long blonde hair. He's way too pretty and petite for a teenage boy!" Aunty June snicked and agreed. "I know. I said the very same thing just this morning." Her taller friend noted, "He's hardly any taller than my middle daughter, although he's much skinnier. Some of Eliza or Kate's old frocks should fit him well enough." Despite my incoherent begging and pleading, Mandy proceeded to show me numerous little-girl outfits she thought might fit me. The chortling women held up the various short dresses and skirt and blouse combinations, pressing the feminine outfits against my shivering frame to check them for size. To my undying embarrassment, I could feel the beginnings of an erection stirring beneath the damp towel I clutched tightly around my waist. In mock-sweet tones Aunt June crooned, "With all these lovely dresses to choose from, what does my little Candy want to wear this afternoon?" Confused and afraid, I was unable to respond, and the women continued to taunt me with a barrage of embarrassing questions. "Do you want to wear a sleeveless sunfrock, like this one?" Mandy sweetly inquired, holding up a simple baby-blue cotton dress against my body. It was so short, it looked more like a flounced top than a dress. "The blue matches your eyes, you know?" "Or would you prefer a pretty party frock, like this one?" Aunty June demanded, holding up a glistening baby-pink satin frock with lavish white lace trimmings. "I think she'll look much prettier in pink, Mandy. Don't you?" I tearfully begged for them to stop teasing me, but they just laughed and called me a "silly cry-baby!" Finally Aunt June decided, "Since little Candy can't make up her mind, we'll just have to choose an outfit for her." I turned my back on her and with that she ripped away my towel, leaving me trembling and naked. My attempts to cover myself only made her snort with laughter. "Look how smooth his arms and legs are," she chortled in derision. "My four-year-old has more body hair than him!" "Yes, my little Candy is baby-smooth all over," Aunty June boasted, making her friend laugh. Mandy's thick brown eyebrows rose another notch when she saw the fresh red marks and purple bruises on my swollen bottom cheeks, but her only comment was; "Your Candy must have been a very disobedient little girl today, from the looks of that sore botty." She grabbed me around the waist and turned me to face her, and I tried to keep my palms over my thickening penis. The huge woman smacked my hands out of the way and chortled contemptuously at the ready evidence of my arousal. "It looks like our naughty little sissy likes the idea of trying on my girls' clothes," Mandy laughed. "Yes," Aunty agreed with a thin-lipped smile. "I think dressing up like a little girl secretly excites my little Candy." I stood there cringing helplessly as Aunt June pulled a pair of thick pink terrycloth panties over my feet. The tight elastic leg bands felt pleasantly weird when she drew them up my newly-hairless legs. She tugged the wide elastic waistband high up over my baby-smooth tummy and over my bobbing stiffie, almost lifting me off my feet in the process. The pink cotton panties were so snug across the front, they pressed my hard little tool against my tummy, and I marvelled at the heat emanating from my wayward stiff peenie. The soft terry-towelling felt like luxurious silk on my newly-bald skin. I felt hot and cold at the same time, and blushed all over when I realised the thick panties had a crackling inner layer of wetproof plastic between the absorbent terrycloth layers. They were little girl's training panties! To my everlasting shame, the bulky pink toddler panties fitted me perfectly! They even had row upon row of frilly white lace ruffles sewn across the rear, which Mandy flicked up with her fingers. My Aunt sounded delighted when she exclaimed, "Oh Candy! What a pretty plump girly bottom you have in those thick ruffled training panties!" I felt so humiliated, my eyes began to swim with tears. Her taller friend laughed derisively, and she heartlessly mocked me as the first fat tears trickled down my hot red cheeks. "Oh look! She even cries like a little girl. Don't be such a sissy cry-baby, Candy!" The sneering brunette pushed me backwards onto the bed, and slipped some lacy anklet socks and an almost-new pair of snug black patent Maryjane shoes on my feet. "Your Candy can keep these shoes. They don't fit my Eliza any longer, and she's got the smallest feet," Mandy assured her girlfriend. "There are a few pairs of cute sandals she can have too, if you like." The women started brushing my long blonde hair into two high juvenile pigtails, one on each side of my head. I tearfully begged them to stop, but they wouldn't listen. When they finished, they tied a big floppy bow of pink satin ribbon over the hair elastics holding my blonde locks in place. Aunty June used a comb to tease out my pigtails, making them sit up and out like the fluffy ears of a cocker spaniel. "Aww! So pretty!" She crooned to me in mock-affectionate tones. My tattered nerves finally got the better of me when Aunty June combed out my femininely-cut bangs, and I started bawling uncontrollably. Mandy held open and up a sleeveless white petticoat for me to feed my head and arms through. It consisted of a slinky nylon bodice, with several stiff tiers of attached tulle skirts fluffing out below the waist. "Hold your arms up for Aunty Mandy, my pretty baby girl," she instructed me in cloying sugary tones. "Come on, Candy. You're going to look so pretty when we finishing dressing you up!" But I kept sobbing and wailing despondently, and wouldn't obey the huge brunette. My Aunt mocked my cries of distress, demanding in saccharine baby-talk, "Doesn't our little Candy want to stop crying and finish dressing in her pretty toddler frock? I'm sure she will look so sweet!" I still wouldn't respond and so she continued haughtily, "Okay, my naughty little baby girl. Fine! It's quite warm out, so if you don't stop crying this instant, I'll take you home dressed in just your ribbons, lacy anklets, Maryjane shoes, and those pretty frilly training panties for everyone to see! Would you like that, sweetheart?" I tried to shake my head in denial and form a coherent reply, but I just couldn't stop bawling. My Aunt only grew angrier and added coldly, "And on the way home, we'll detour through town and stop over at the kiddie's playground beside the mall. Wouldn't you like that, little girl?" I sniffled and sobbed and hiccupped back tears, but still couldn't form an intelligible response. My Aunt probably thought I was simply being difficult and deliberately uncooperative, so she continued icily, "And when we reach the playground, I'll gather a crowd together. I'll announce what a bad little boy you've been, pull down those pretty training panties, dump you over my knee, and spank your sore bot-bot so hard, you won't be able to sit down for a week! Is that crystal clear, my sooky little cry-baby?" With that she grabbed my wrist and started dragging me towards the door, bidding her friend goodbye. Mandy was laughing hysterically as she looked at the tenting front of my training panties in disbelief, then she waved me farewell. "Bye-bye, Baby Candy! Have fun at the kiddie playground!" I couldn't believe this was happening to me! I realised Aunt June was deadly serious, so I knew I had to stop bawling and cooperate. To be hauled outside dressed only in frilly girl's training panties would be far more humiliation than I could handle. "No, no!" I pleaded. "I'll do it. I'll do whatever you want," I managed to wail. I was able to muster my strength enough to stop crying, and yet my excitable little tool refused to go down. As I sniffed back the tears and gulped for air, my Aunty archly asked me, "Are you going to behave and finish dressing properly, Candy?" I whimpered in reply, "Yes ma'am." She responded with a tight smile, "Now that's my good little girl! Arms up, Candy, and hold your head up." My humiliation mounted when the sadistic women resumed where they'd left off. The flounced shortie petticoat was lowered over my head and threaded over my compliantly-raised arms. The silky-smooth nylon bodice slithered liquidly over my shivering torso, making my little nipples hard as buttons. At least it covered the embarrassing bulge tenting out the front of my thick cotton panties - if only just. I noticed the stiff tulle underskirts were edged with a wide layer of frilly white lace, making them look even more feminine. Lastly came a pale-pink satin, little-girl's party dress, with a high, wide, darker pink satin waist sash that tied in a floppy bow in the back. It had a high round neckline and fastened up the back with a row of tiny pearl buttons. The juvenile frock had sheer, elbow-length puffy sleeves, and oodles of white lace trimming around the cuffs, collar and hemline. Both women 'Oohed!' and 'Aahed!' over me as they straightened the lacy dress hem over the bouncing layers of petticoats. The frock fitted me very snugly around the bust, and like the pettie, was extremely short. My tears finally dried and Mandy gave my tear-stained face a hard rub with the damp towel. Aunt June produced her make-up bag and after a few minutes, mascara, pink lipstick and a hint of blush had been applied to my drying eyes and cheeks. Mandy seemed astounded by my transformation, and dragged me over to a floor-length mirror to show me how pretty I looked. I was stunned to see I looked exactly like a cute, oversized six-year-old girl, dressed up in a pretty party frock all ready to be taken out. My little legs looked smooth and hairless poking out below the frothy white petties, and the brief frock left most of my slender thighs exposed. I tentatively raised my dress and petties in front a couple of inches, and instantly spied the crotch of my thick pink panties. I was trembling all over as I stared in wonder at my feminine reflection, the frothy white petticoats swaying and bobbing distractingly with my every tiny movement. Both women seemed thrilled with the results of their handiwork, and commented that I looked "So sweet!" and "Adorable!" Mandy warned me, "Now I want you to behave yourself in my house, Candy, like the good little girl you appear to be." Before I could even catch my breath, the women grabbed my hands and hustled me downstairs to the kitchen. The thick crackling panties, frothy petticoats and my bobbing satin skirts all made me feel incredibly juvenile and feminine. The petties also made a very noticeable rustling swishing sound whenever I walked or moved about. I felt terrified as they led me downstairs, but still extremely aroused! Mandy offered, "Since you have been behaving like a good little girl - so far - you may have some milk and cookies - if your Aunty gives you permission." When I glanced at her, Aunty June smiled and nodded her approval. After enduring such a humiliating experience, I wasn't at all hungry. To Mandy I politely replied, "No thank you, ma'am." But my Aunty smiled tightly and asked, "Would you rather go out in the back yard and play with my friend Mandy's little girls, instead?" I fearfully demurred again, "No thank you, ma'am." Aunt June spitefully announced, "Make up your mind, little girl! You have to do one or the other. Either have something to eat and drink with the grown-ups, or go outside and play with the other girls." The thought of venturing outside dressed like a pretty toddler girl terrified me, so I chose the milk and cookies option. The grown-ups' coffee was already brewing, and my cheeks burned with shame when I noticed Mandy filling a pink sippy-cup with milk for me. She snapped on the lid and handed the plastic toddler's cup to me with a condescending smirk. I meekly followed them when they strolled into the living room with their steaming mugs in hand. I carelessly flopped down on the couch as I normally did while wearing shorts. Both women started cackling as I unthinkingly sat with my bare thighs splayed wide open as usual, unaware I was giving them an unobstructed view of my padded panty crotch. Aunt June snorted back her laughter and shook her head as she remonstrated with me. "Candy! Bad girl! You can't sit like that! Unless you want your sweet frilly training panties to be disgracefully exposed, you'll have to sit with your knees pressed demurely together or with your little legs crossed. That's how little girls must sit while wearing short skirts with tulle petticoats underneath." I blushed rosily and immediately clamped my knees closer together, as much as the thick crackling wad of cloth between my thighs would allow. I pressed the spout of the sippy-cup between my lips and sucked down a few mouthfuls of cold milk, my throat swollen with shame. With my free hand I simultaneously tried to push my dress hem down in front to cover my training panties, the cool pink satin slick against my fingers. The women chuckled at my frustrated efforts, and Mandy commented with a giggle. "Will you look at him - I mean, her! Look how prettily she blushes - just like a real girl!" After I drained half my sippy-cup, they spent the next twenty minutes teaching me how to sit and stand properly like a polite little girl - one wearing a too-short toddler dress with flaring petties underneath. By the time they let me pick up my sippy-cup of milk, my erect peenie had dwindled into insignificance. I couldn't eat many cookies and when I said I was full, Aunt June insisted I had to toddle out in the back yard and play with Mandy's girls anyway. I was feeling extremely self-conscious, as one could imagine. I didn't want to be embarrassed in front of any more people, even much younger children. But Mandy tightly clasped my the hand and commanded, "Come with me, little Candy. I'll introduce you to my daughters." A smirking Aunt June followed close behind us, to better observe my ongoing humiliation. The three little girls were playing jump rope on the patio, and they were all dressed in similar light cotton, sleeveless sundresses. The oldest, Julia, had loose, shoulder- length brown hair and a slightly pudgy figure. Her two solid-built younger sisters had similar long blonde locks tied up in frothy bunches like mine, but without the ribbons. I felt woefully overdressed in my shiny satin party frock, frilly petticoats and ribbon bows. I stared straight down at my lacy anklet socks and shiny black patent Maryjanes on my feet, red-faced with shame while Mandy introduced me. "Girls! This is Aunty June's little niece, Candy, from Sydney. Candy, this is Julia, Kate and Eliza." When the girls finished murmuring their greetings, Mandy asked her daughters, "Please make little Candy feel at home, as she is a very shy little girl." She stage-whispered to her youngest, "Candy had to borrow one of your frocks and a pair of your old training panties this afternoon, Eliza, because she wet her panties and jeans earlier." The girls giggled at this juicy titbit of gossip, and turned to stare at me with reappraising eyes. While my cheeks blazed with humiliation, Kate chirped, "You look very pretty in my baby sister's party dress, Candy." The three girls politely asked me to join them in skipping rope, but I timidly whispered that I didn't know how. Aunt June asked Mandy's children to be good little girls and teach me, and they were happy to oblige. Then my Aunt said that she and Mandy were returning inside. Aunty June warned me, "I want you to play nicely with the other girls, Candy, and behave yourself like a good little girl - or else!" She added with a sly grin, "I'm going to come out later and watch you jump rope, Candy, so I suggest you'd better let the other girls teach you properly." After the adults departed, the girls crowded around me and asked me a few questions; about my age and where I was from, and how often I wet my pants. I blushed at their blunt interrogation and told them, "I'm from Sydney," and then hesitated. I was so nervous, my voice came out in a high-pitched squeak. I even sounded like a shy little girl! Since the tough girls at the diner obviously hadn't believed me when I told them I was twelve, I tentatively told these younger girls, "I'm eight years old, and I almost never wet my pants." Their expressions seemed to indicate that they scarcely believed either answer. I sighed with relief when they didn't quiz me further about my real age. The middle girl, Kate, stepped close to me and examined my face from inches away, making my pink cheeks turn a rosier shade. She sounded envious when she asked, "Are you wearing make-up?" I nodded, innocently batting my long black lashes at her. "You look really pretty," she complimented me. "You are so lucky!" I realized these girls actually thought I was a little girl, too. I didn't know whether to feel excited or relieved, but I decided it would be less embarrassing to maintain the charade. I decided to watch them carefully and try to act just like them, so they wouldn't notice any difference. "Our Mum never lets us wear make-up," the oldest girl added. "Did your mum do your face for you?" "My Mum never lets me wear make-up either," I told them. Well, it was true - and I was trying to bond with these little girls. "My Aunty June did it for me." My response seemed to satisfy them, and Julia asked if I wanted to skip with them. I softly replied, "Could I just try being a rope-turner first?" The others said that was okay, but Julia reminded me I had to take a turn jumping later. When she handed me the wooden handle at one end of the rope, I realised how much taller than me she was. The top of my head barely reached her nose, and Julia was only eight! No wonder they didn't believe me when I told them I was eight years old. I had the rope turning down all right after a few minutes, but when it was my turn to jump, that was something else entirely. At first I actually made a few reasonable jumps, but I forgot to hold down my short dress and flaring petties at the same time. My skirts flew up high around my waist, and the girls giggled merrily and pointed at my indecent panty display. "Naughty girl!" Kate scolded me. "Stop that, Candy!" Julia insisted, and then she started laughing. Even four-year-old Eliza got in on the act. "I can see your panties, I can see your panties!" Eliza pointed at my exposed crotch and chanted. "You're a bad girl!" The girls all prissily insisted I had to hold my dress hem down and stop showing off my frilly petties and training panties like a bad girl. I wanted to make a good impression, so I tried hard to act demure and ladylike. However I became so involved with trying to hold down my bobbing dress and petties, I couldn't even make one good jump. After many fumbling turns, I was able to successfully hold down my wayward skirts and make a few decent jumps simultaneously. I spied Aunt June and Mandy watching my antics through the kitchen window, pointing at me and giggling at my poor attempts at demure feminine behaviour. I was grateful to surrender my place and take up one end of the rope again. Julia unexpectedly asked me, " Do you want to sleep over at our house tonight? It's Kate's seventh birthday tomorrow, and you could stay for the party in the afternoon, if you'd like?" I imagined trying to keep my male identity a secret while surrounded by a troop of clamouring seven-year-old girls, and politely replied, "No thank you, Julia." The three girls seemed disappointed by my response, and the bossy eight-year-old demanded, "Why not? Don't you like us?" "No, no, it's not that," I protested. I made the lame excuse, "My Aunty June is really strict. She probably won't let me sleep over." However, Julia dashed into the house and asked my Aunt for herself. To my disappointment, a few moments later Aunt June and Mandy strolled out to join us. My sadistic Aunty announced, "I think it's a wonderful idea for you to have a sleepover with the girls, Candy. You can attend Kate's birthday party tomorrow, too! Won't that be fun?" I meekly tried to object, but soon found I had no further say in the matter. Aunty June insisted I take a turn jumping rope while she and Mandy watched, and my cheeks blushed rosily with shame as I shuffled into place. The girls cheered me on when I successfully managed a few jumps without showing off my ruffle-bottomed panties, and Aunty nodded in tight- lipped approval when I finished my turn. After ringing her daughters, Aunt June decided to remain with us for dinner that night. She insisted, "I want you to help the other girls set the table, Candy, and you can help wash the dishes afterwards like a good little girl should." I frowned and resentfully poked out my bottom lip at her. My Mum never made me do the dishes at home. That was girl's work! Aunty June criticised my table manners while we ate dinner, ordering me to take smaller mouthfuls. "Tiny morsels, darling. Little girls have dainty table manners, Candy," she reminded me with a teasing grin. It was a relief to escape from the table, but Mandy made me wear a frilly bibbed pinafore apron while I carefully washed the dishes in the sink. "Here, baby," she cooed, slipping the loop over my head and tying the waist sashes in a floppy bow behind me. "Put this pretty apron on first, so you don't splash anything on your good frock." I couldn't look at Mandy's daughters when they clustered around me to dump their plates and cutlery in the sink. Kate's arm brushed against mine as she leaned past me, and she paused to stroke my hairless skin. "Gosh, your arms are so soft and smooth," she commented in admiration, smiling at my bashful expression. "That apron looks really cute on you," Julia whispered in my ear before she dashed away. Shortly after dinner, Aunt June packed her handbag and curtly warned me, "Now Candy, make sure you obey Mandy tonight - no matter what! And mind you play politely with the other girls - or else!" Despite my abject pleas, Aunt June then departed, assuring me with a dismissive wave; "You'll be right, Candy. Stop carrying on like a big baby!" She turned to her friend and grimaced. "What a sooky cry-baby! I'll return before lunch tomorrow, Mandy, to help you get things ready for the party. Goodbye, girls." She waved to Mandy's daughters, but disappeared without so much as a backward glance for me. Mandy seemed pleased that I was staying at her place overnight. Like Aunty June, it appeared she was enjoying my humiliating predicament. It seemed to me that she relished the opportunity to feminise a sissy teenage boy like me, and reduce me to the status of a toddler. Mandy removed my frilly pinafore apron after I finished the dishes, but then she pointed me in the direction of their living room. "Go and join the girls and you can have a little play before bedtime," she ordered. I had to sit quietly with her girls and play with their Barbie dolls for ages. Julia loaned me one of her older dolls, one with half her hair chopped off, and the girls pushed handfuls of tiny dresses, tops and plastic shoes across the carpet towards me. After an hour or so of dressing and undressing and role-playing with our Barbies, I truly began to feel like the six-year-old girl I appeared to be. Then Mandy walked into the lounge room and announced, "Girls! It's bedtime for Eliza and Candy." I whined in disbelief, "But it's only just past seven o'clock!" Mandy snapped in irritation, "Don't give me any back-talk, missy. All little girls need their beauty sleep!" Julia, Kate, and Eliza all chorused they wanted me to sleep with them in their rooms, but Mandy decided there was not enough room in their small bedrooms. Instead she suggested, "Eliza's old crib is still set up in my bedroom. Candy can sleep in there tonight." The girls giggled merrily at the announcement. Mandy wasn't joking however, and she led us into her spacious bedroom and showed me the huge pink-painted wooden crib standing against the side wall. She lowered the barred side rail and to my horror, lifted me in to check if it was long enough to accommodate my fifteen-year-old body. To my chagrin, it was big enough if I curled up my legs a little. I was surprised when her pleased smile faded and she coldly demanded, "So tell Aunty Mandy the truth, little Candy. Are you a bed-wetter, too?" I tremulously exclaimed, "No ma'am!" I meekly lay there in the spacious wooden cot gazing up at her stern features. The girls giggled at my reply and I blushed rosily again when I spied the pink padded baby change table standing against the wall next to the crib. Mandy warned me, "If you are a bed-wetter as well as a panty-wetter, you had better tell me right now, little girl! I don't want to find out the hard way." I cringed at the girls' bright peals of mocking laughter, and again hesitantly assured their mother, "I- I'm not a bed-wetter. I never - well, almost never wet my pants." She hardly seemed convinced by my stammered denials. "Alright, then. You can just wear a nightie and panties tonight. Kate? Go and find Candy something pretty to wear to bed." Mandy sent her middle daughters to select one of their prettiest nighties for me to wear. They soon returned with one of Julia's ultra-feminine, lace- lavished, knee-length, pink nylon nightie, and I accepted the feminine garment with shaky fingers. Mandy brusquely asked me, "Do you need any help undressing, little one?" I considered my stiffening little tool and shyly replied, "No thank you, ma'am." She curtly told me to change into my nightie and wash my face and hands, and then brush my teeth and go potty. After I had finished, she would come back and tuck me into the crib for the night. She and her daughters then left me alone, the children sniggering and whispering secretively amongst themselves. The grinning young girls were waiting for me when I tip-toed into the bathroom. I was wearing the silky flowing nightie over the snug crackling training panties, and shivered as I entered the cold tiled room. Kate handed me a brand-new pink Barbie toothbrush with pink bubblegum-flavoured toothpaste already smeared on the bristles, and Julia ordered me to hurry up and brush my teeth. She closely supervised Eliza and me as we brushed and rinsed, treating me exactly the same as her four-year-old sister. After we washed our faces and hands, I was startled when Julia pulled down her baby sister's panties. She helped her little sister sit back on a big pink potty she placed in front of the toilet. But the big toddler simply held her baby-blue shortie nightie up around her waist as if this were an everyday occurrence, and she loudly emptied her bladder in the big plastic potty without a care in the world. Julia pulled the hair elastics out of Eliza's pigtails, and gave her hair a quick brush while she did her business on the potty. "Are you finished, sis?" Julia asked, when the sound of her baby sister's stream trickled to a halt. Eliza took a deep breath and held it. She scrunched up her pretty little face, strained and pushed, and we all heard the noisy final squirt into the plastic potty. "I finished," she announced with a proud smile. Julia placed the wooden hairbrush aside on the vanity bench, and beamed at Eliza in approval. "Good girl!" She spread the little girl's thighs wide and carefully wiped her damp puffy slit with some folded toilet tissue, which she then threw in the toilet. After ensuring her little sister's crotch was patted dry, Julia assisted Eliza to her feet and pulled up her matching blue panties. She emptied the potty into the toilet with a loud 'splash' and placed it back on the tiled floor, then looked at me inquiringly. "Well, Candy? Don't you have to go potty, too?" With my cheeks flaming with humiliation, I shook my head. "No. I don't need to go," I told the bossy bigger girl. I couldn't meet her bemused gaze. There was no way I was going to let her pull down my panties and put me on the potty like a big baby! Although I was pleased that Mandy's daughters apparently thought I was a little girl, too. Otherwise they wouldn't have been so casual about exposing themselves to my youthful male eyes. I figured they might be mad at me for fooling them, and I didn't want them pulling down my panties and discovering the truth. Julia stared at me in apparent disbelief, asking again, "Are you sure?" When I nodded, she shrugged her shoulders dismissively. "Oh well, suit yourself," was her only careless comment, before she rinsed and then replaced the big pink potty in the bathroom cupboard. Mandy returned and completely ignored me, asking Julia if I had done everything she instructed. Before the officious oldest girl could answer for me, I sullenly replied, "I did everything. Why do I have to sleep in a baby's crib? It's not fair!" Mandy disdainfully sniffed, "Stop complaining! I'm sure you'll get used to it soon enough." She cautioned me not to whinge any more as she grabbed my hand and hauled me down the hallway to her bedroom. She lifted me into the wide wooden cot with disarming ease, and drew a soft fuzzy pink blanket over me. My newly-hairless legs were so sensitive, I felt every individual fibre brushing my skin. Mandy tucked me in and kissed me goodnight, then raised and locked the barred safety rail in place with a loud 'click!' To my ears, it was the sound of a prison door slamming. "Good night, baby girl," she sang. "Sleep tight, and don't let the bedbugs bite." To be continued in chapter 4, "Bedwetting Baby Candy." So, kids? Is it working? Did we get all excited in our warm wet nappies? Did we make squirties in our pretty panties? Let me know, you naughty girl! BJ