Baby Candy Chap. 7 free porn video

Chapter 7. Dirty Little Girl. Aunty June made me sit in the back seat of her old Ford Statesman with the overflowing plastic bags full of girls' clothes and stuff sitting on the bench seat beside me. She buckled me in like I was incapable of doing it myself, patted my bulging plastic panty crotch in a condescending manner, and then she climbed into the front seat behind the wheel. We drove in silence for a few minutes, until I suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to fart. I knew my bowels were dangerously full, and I needed to go number twos pretty badly. I thought releasing some gas might alleviate the pressure on my packed colon. As a loud ripple of gas trumpeted out of my bottom, I felt the unmistakeable sensation of a warm wet turd sliding out of my anus. The firm fat log stretched my little hole painfully wide for a few moments, before mashing moistly against the seat of my nappy. I squealed in dismay and started to wet myself in shock as I uncontrollably soiled my tightly-pinned diaper. With nowhere else for it to go, the hot poop started squishing around in my crack, before oozing up my back towards the tight waistband of my plastic panties. My body was thrust against the seatbelt when Aunty slammed on the brakes, forcing even more smelly excrement to squirt out of my tortured sphincter. As the car screeched to a halt, I screeched in fright like a terrified little girl. I bit down hard on my dummy teat, almost slicing the rubber nipple in two. Aunty turned to glare over her shoulder at me as I slumped back in my seat, slowly settling into the semi-soft pile of hot poop cushioning my bottom. "I hope you haven't done what I think you've done, little girl?" Aunty June icily demanded, staring at me in genuine disgust. I started crying like the sissy baby I was dressed as when I sulkily replied, "I couldn't help it, Aunty." She glared at me in disbelief. "It was an ac-thident!" I wailed like a useless toddler around the teat of my dummy, the hot stream continuing to pour out of me. "Accident my foot!" she angrily interjected. "Aunty Mandy asked you if you needed to use the potty only five minutes ago, you dirty, bad little girl! Why didn't you tell us you needed to go poo-poos then?" "I didn't know I needed to go," I lied, sobbing in misery around the dummy still clenched between my teeth. She glared at me in silence for a whole minute while I slowly sank deeper and deeper into the warm creamy mess filling my nappy. I wriggled about on some of the firmer lumps, and my actions made the tight waistband of my baby panties crackle and pop, releasing some of the musty, fruity-herb aroma mostly contained until then. I sat there with my head bowed in guilt and my cheeks burning with shame, the ripe smell of my dirty accident slowly fouling the air around us. Aunty June wrinkled her pert nose in disgust and disdainfully shook her head. "Only silly little babies can't tell when they need to go number twos," she commented with a sneer of contempt, fanning her hand in front of her face. "You must really be a baby after all. Is that what you are, Baby Candy?" she demanded, as she wound down her window all the way. I could only shake my head in useless denial and sniffle tearfully in reply. "Yes, I think so," she decided for me with chilling finality. "You're nothing but a silly little baby girl; one desperately in need of potty-training and diaper discipline." She turned to the front and started driving again, and minutes later we turned into Aunty's street and drove up her driveway. Alison and Brenda were inside the house eagerly awaiting our arrival, and they watched from the landing as Aunty June seized my hand and led me waddling slowly and carefully up the stairs in my floaty yellow frock. "Hello girls," Aunty greeted the goggle-eyed teens, then she cruelly informed them, "Your naughty little niece Baby Candy has just soiled herself. I need to take this dirty little girl straight to the bathroom and change her messy nappy. Come and help me." The beautiful teenagers followed us along the landing and watched with open mouths from the bathroom doorway. Aunty removed my Maryjanes and my frilly anklet socks, then she made me climb into the cold enamel bath. She stripped me of my remaining feminine finery in the tub, and she grunted in annoyance when she pulled down my yellow plastic panties. "These baby panties will have to be soaked in the laundry tub before I can toss them in the machine. Yuck!" The leg bands were stained brown with sticky excrement around the crotch, and she carefully rolled them up and tossed them in a large white bucket sitting beside the bathtub. "What a messy baby. Spread your feet wider, Baby Candy," she ordered, as she leaned down to unpin my dirty wet nappy. The heavy terrycloth layers fell open to the bottom of bathtub, landing between my splayed feet with a loud wet 'splat!' There was a huge pile of stinky brown excrement smeared all over the crotch of my drenched diaper, all the way to the back seam. "Oh no!" Aunty complained, "Look at all that mess. What a dirty little girl!" There was a collective gasp from the watching girls when the extent of my disgrace was revealed. Brenda folded her arms under her enormous bosom and cried in revulsion, "Yuck-spuck! What an awful stench! Pooh!" Alison theatrically held her nose between her thumb and forefinger. She declared in a muffled tone of disgust, "Pee-yew! I'm not changing any stinky diapers. No way!" Aunty June crisply informed her girls, "Settle down, you two! Changing dirty nappies is all part of taking care of a baby - something you will have to do for your own babies soon enough." She hid her sly smile from her daughters when she suggested, "A few weeks of taking care of a big baby like Baby Candy will make excellent preparation for your own future motherhood." The girls moaned and groaned in disagreement as their mother dumped my stinky nappies in a big white bucket. The only words that rung in my head were; 'a few weeks...?' How long did Aunty intend dressing me like this? Aunty June ordered Alison to take the bucket containing my dirty nappies downstairs. "Dump them straight in the laundry tub with some Napisan, along with those badly stained plastic pilchers. Let them soak for a couple of hours, Allie, then I'll throw them in the washing machine later." Alison groaned in disgust as she carted the smelly bucket away. Aunty June turned to me in the bathtub, her full red lips compressed into a thin line. "Now let's get you sorted, you dirty little girl." There was sticky brown poo-poo stuck all over me, and Aunty hosed me down with a hand-held shower spray first. "It's a good thing we got rid of all that nasty fur down there, she commented unkindly. "I'd hate to have to clean you up then." She blasted away most of the mess from my hairless crotch and bottom with the stinging hot spray. She mumbled sourly in annoyance when she had to scour between my stained cheeks with a soapy washcloth to dislodge some of the more stubborn pieces. After she had washed all the sticky excrement down the plug hole, she allowed the tub to fill. "Sit down, baby," she brusquely commanded, and she gave me my second scalding-hot bath of the day. She washed me all over with a coarse flannel, treating me like a helpless toddler incapable of doing it for myself. When she was satisfied I was perfectly clean, she commanded, "Come on, baby girl. Out we hop!" She lifted me out and stood me on the bathmat. When I was dry, Aunty June snatched my hand and led me along the landing into her bedroom. She called over her shoulder; "Girls! Come and watch how I diaper Baby Candy. This will be part of your babysitting duties of the next couple of weeks." My cheeks blazed with fresh shame when Alison and Brenda piled into their mother's bedroom to better observe my ongoing humiliation. There was a pink, vinyl-backed cotton change mat already laid out waiting for me on the end of her queen-size bed, beside a pile of white terry nappies and a clean pair of translucent pink baby panties. As soon as Aunty had arranged two of the fluffy nappies together in the centre of the change mat, she lifted me off my feet and lay me on my back. She said to her watching daughters, "I want you to bring the change table down from the attic tomorrow, and set it up in Baby Candy's bedroom. It'll be much more convenient for changing this big baby's nappies in future." The girls nodded obediently as my bottom came to rest on a thick cushion of soft cotton, like a cherub's bum resting on a fluffy cloud. The teenagers laughed in derision when I instinctively covered my tiny wrinkled genitals with my hands, but Aunty June simply smacked my wrists out of the way. "None of that, little girl," she chided me. "There's no need for false modesty here, Baby Candy. You're just a little baby girl, after all, and babies aren't shy about having their nappies changed." After powdering me heavily and pinning the fluffy white nappies around my loins, she ordered me to raise my feet. "Point those wittle toesies in the air for me, sweetie," she cooed, and she smiled victoriously at me when I timidly obeyed. "Good baby. Now footsies down and lift that wittle bot-bot." She ordered the girls to watch closely as she tucked the tight elastic leg bands of my baby panties in under the crotch of my thick nappy. "Make sure all baby's nappy is tucked inside her plastic panties. We don't want any leaks," she warned her grinning daughters. "Baby Candy is such a heavy wetter." Aunty hauled me to my feet and dressed me in the same pink satin nightie and the lace-lavished plastic-lined panties I had worn last night at Aunty Mandy's. The girls showered me with sarcastic compliments for my pretty pink babydoll nightie and matching satin rumba panties. Aunty June ordered Brenda, "Take Baby Candy's hand and lead her downstairs, will you darling? It's time to feed our little girl some dinner." Brenda laughed and sang, "Come on, Baby Candy! Time for din-dins!" I looked to Aunty with a pleading expression, but she simply waved me away. "Go on, Baby Candy. Off you go! And mind you obey my girls, little one. They're going to be your babysitters from now on." I was scowling in annoyance when Brenda dragged me downstairs, my movements clumsy because of the mass of fluffy terrycloth bunched between my thighs. My cheeks grew warm and I felt a fresh blossoming of heat in my nappies when my buxom blonde cousin lifted me onto a high kitchen stool to feed me my dinner. I gripped the sides of the padded seat to stop from sliding off. My bare feet didn't reach the ground, and I felt like I was sitting in an adult version of a highchair. I let my legs swing freely underneath me, unconsciously behaving like a small child as I admired the pretty pink polish on my toenails. Aunty had cooked a beef stew for dinner, and mine was served in a plastic bowl with a serving scoop of steamed rice. Brenda tied a dishcloth around my neck as a makeshift bib, and then approached me stirring the steaming contents of my bowl with a spoon. The buttons of her yellow cotton blouse were strained almost to breaking point by her massive bosom. Every time the spoon circled the bowl, her huge breasts wobbled distractingly inside the lacy white hammock of her bra. She knew I was staring at her abundant fleshy cleavage, and she shot me a malevolent grin as she ordered, "Open wide, Baby Candy! It's time for Aunty Brenda to feed you some din-dins." I knew there was no point protesting, and I obediently opened my mouth as the loaded spoon approached. "Eat it all up for Aunty. Show me how you chew your food like a big girl. Good girl," she praised me, beaming in approval when I meekly chewed and swallowed, despite my blazing red cheeks. Brenda shovelled another heaped spoonful into my mouth, smiling condescendingly at my submissive attitude. She flicked her head, tossing her long blonde ponytail back over her shoulders and out of harm's way, making her huge bosom wobble distractingly. I couldn't help staring at them and wondering what her nipples looked like. When Aunty June returned downstairs, she asked her daughter, "Is Baby Candy eating up all her din-dins like a good little baby girl?" She sniggered at my woebegone expression when her youngest nodded. "She sure is! What a hungry bubba!" Brenda shovelled yet another spoonful of hot stew into my mouth before I was ready. Some stew dribbled from the corner of my mouth, and I felt my cheeks turn pink when it trickled down my chin and onto my makeshift bib. "I think Mandy packed a pretty bibbie for our special baby girl," Aunty June commented, flicking up the stained tea towel covering my breast. "I'll get it out for Baby Candy to use tomorrow morning." Alison and Brenda giggled in cruel amusement when my rosy cheeks turned scarlet with fresh shame. I was sent to bed clutching my new Barbie dolly as soon as Brenda finished spoon-feeding me my meal. Aunty didn't bother checking me before she put me down, and she made me wear the same damp nappies and baby panties to bed that night. At least I was allowed to sleep in a big-girl's bed, even if Aunty ordered me to keep the dummy in my mouth all night. She clipped the dangling pink plastic chain to the collar of my nightie, and I unconsciously fingered the pink plastic clip shaped like a teddy bear. Aunty June left me alone for a few minutes, and I reached under the bedclothes and caressed the slick front of my bulging baby panties. I could already detect a warm damp spot through the thick layer of plastic, and I squeezed the front of my nappy over my thickening tool. I snatched my hand away from my groin when Aunty walked back into the room, and tried hard not to look guilty. Aunty June gave me a cool appraising stare before she handed me an eight-ounce baby bottle of warm milk. When I lay there stupidly clutching the warm plastic vessel, she took my arm and steered the amber rubber teat towards my lips. "Here baby," she crooned, talking down to me like I was a useless toddler, "Aunty made you a lovely warm bottle for night-night. It's only a small one. We'll have to buy you some bigger bottles tomorrow, won't we? Yes we will! Now drink it all up your milkies like a good little girl, then pop that dummy back in your mouth. It will help you get to sleep." It certainly did that! She only left me alone after I obediently started sucking down the warm milk. "Good night, Baby Candy," she sang from the doorway, as she turned out the overhead light. "Sleep tight, little girl. We have a busy day of shopping tomorrow." As soon as I heard the sound of her footsteps fade into silence, I thrust my hand beneath the sheets and grabbed my bulging groin through the warm plastic panties. I massaged my pulsating stiffie through the bulky wet nappies, loving the sensation of the squishy warmth pressing against my throbbing tool. When I finally drained my bottle, I carelessly shoved it aside and let it fall to the floor. I pushed the rubber teat of my pink pacifier into my mouth in its place. It was thrilling being dressed like a pretty girl, even a little girl, despite the humiliation I'd been subjected to. I wondered what kind of shopping Aunty June planned to do tomorrow? I wriggled about in my bed, enjoying the feel of the slick satin nightie against my silky-smooth skin. Was she planning on buying more little-girl clothes for Candy? I was thrilled - yet terrified - by the thought. My rock-hard tool throbbed with arousal inside my warm wet swaddling. I was still caressing myself through my rustling baby panties when sleep finally claimed me. I drifted off while sucking on my mouth-filling baby soother, and I didn't even stir when I repeatedly drenched my nappy during the night. The next morning, Aunt June strode barefoot into the spare bedroom and threw back my bedcovers, jolting me awake. She had tossed a maroon chenille dressing gown over her mint-green shortie nightie, and her fluffy robe was belted tightly around her slender waist. She poked and prodded my bulging plastic panties between my legs, sighing at the warmth she could feel. She slipped a cold bony finger under one leg band at the crotch, and snorted in contempt when she detected my saturated state. She wrenched away her searching fingers, carelessly wiping the tips clean on the front of my satin nightie. "Hmph! Wet again, I see. What a baby! Oh well, I'm not going to bother changing you until after breakfast," she announced, before lifting me out of the bed. She clasped one of my hands tightly in hers, and led me waddling downstairs into the kitchen. I had to endure the laughter and taunts of her daughters when they spied the thick wet nappies and baby panties drooping down between my legs, as I slowly waddled into the brightly-lit kitchen. The girls were still dressed in their pyjamas and they looked gorgeous this morning, despite wearing no make-up and their scruffy bed-hair. I noticed neither girl was wearing a bra, and my mouth watered at this bounteous display of voluptuous feminine beauty. Alison was wearing a loose baby- blue cotton nightie with tiny pink flowers embroidered across the shirred bodice. Despite falling demurely to her slender mid-thighs, her nightgown had a daringly-low, lace-edged V-neck, which displayed more than a hint of her huge creamy breasts. Brenda was dressed in a hip-length, pastel-yellow shortie nightie, made from thin cotton, with a pair of full-cut matching panties peeping out from underneath. Her panties were so tight, they clung like paint to her big round bottom. She had muscular well-shaped calves and plump womanly thighs like her mother, too. Her top was so sheer it was almost transparent, and I could clearly see her massive breasts bulging underneath, capped by a pair of fat russet nipples that poked out like thimbles through the light cotton material. I didn't realise it, but I began to salivate at the sight of those succulent caps. A frilly, plastic-backed cotton bib was clipped around my neck before Brenda lifted me onto the vinyl-covered bar stool, plonking me heavily on my drenched nappy bottom. She smoothed the lace-edged bib over my breast, chortling at the embroidered inscription. When she turned and walked away, I picked up the frilly lace at the bottom of my bib, and turned it so I could read the words written across the front in pink silk lettering two inches high. 'Mummy's Little Nappy Wetter,' the message proudly proclaimed me to be. I dropped the edge of my bib and frowned at my buxom cousin's receding back, my bottom lip protruding like a surly toddler. My taller raven haired cousin approached me holding a small plastic bowl and a rubber- coated spoon. She laughed at the embroidered message on my bib, or it might have been the sulky expression on my face. It was Alison's turn to spoon-feed me this morning, and she seemed to delight in deliberately missing my mouth, repeatedly smearing my lips and chin with warm porridge. Every time she leaned closer to slip the spoon in my mouth, the lace-edged V-neckline of Alison's baby-blue nightie gaped open. I watched entranced as her huge meaty breasts surged forward, threatening to spill over the top, straining against the light cotton material which barely contained them. I think she could tell I was perving at her big breasts, which only provoked her to treat me with greater contempt. 'Open up, baby. Here comes the choo-choo," she commanded. "Good baby. Open wide." She made the sound of a chuffing steam engine as the loaded spoon approached. She gradually increased the pace of her feeding, until I barely had time to swallow before the next heaped spoonful was forced between my writhing lips. "Aww! What a messy bubba. Oops!" She tut-tutted in mock- reproval when excess food slid down my quivering chin, before cascading onto my bib. She simply scooped up the spilled porridge with the spoon and pushed it back in my mouth, singing, "Waste not, want not." Aunty June ate her breakfast while she watched Alison feed me, nodding and smiling in approval at her daughter's efforts to humiliate me. "Give her a couple of bottles while I have my shower, Alison," Aunty suggested as she rinsed her empty bowl in the sink, and then she disappeared upstairs. Brenda had finished her breakfast too, and while the kettle was boiling, she made up two bottles of juice for me and handed them to her grinning big sister. After being forced to drain two eight-ounce bottles of watered-down apple juice by Alison, my grubby face and hands were scrubbed clean with a warm damp washer. "You can sit there for a little while and digest your brekkie, little girl," Alison commanded, before she too disappeared from view. I sat there on the tall barstool, my feet dangling uselessly, not game to climb down from where they had perched me. Only when Aunty June returned did she carefully remove my sticky stained bib. "What a good baby girl, eating all her brekkie for Aunty Alison," she crooned to me in mock-approval, as she lifted me down from the high stool. Aunty June was wearing a calf-length denim skirt and a fluffy grey angora sweater that hugged her curvaceous bosom like a long-lost lover. Her luscious lips were painted dark red, and she had brushed on mascara and some black eyeliner to enhance her huge emerald eyes. It had turned a little cool this morning, with an overcast sky, and she had decided to wear some tan knee-high boots as protection against the chill. When she lifted me down she towered over me, and I noticed her shiny boots had a two-inch platform sole, as well as a menacing narrow six-inch heel. With her long dark-brown hair piled high on her head in a loose sexy bun, my buxom Aunty stood well over six- and-a-half feet tall, and I felt like a tiny infant as I awkwardly waddled upstairs beside her, clutching her hand for support. She dragged me into the bathroom, stripped me of my drooping baby panties and drenched nappies on the tiled floor, and made me sit on the toilet. I meekly sat there while she put the plug in the bathtub and turned on the taps. I didn't feel the need to empty my bladder, probably because I had peed several times during the night already. And there was no way I was going to try and evacuate my bowels with her standing over me watching me like a prison guard. After sitting there in humiliated silence for several long minutes, Aunty June icily demanded, "Well? Have you done a wee-wee or a poo-poo yet, Baby Candy? I haven't heard anything, little girl." Without waiting for an answer, she grabbed my shoulders and rudely thrust me forward, folding my chest over my knees. "Let me see." She peered into the empty commode behind me, clucking her tongue in disapproval. "I don't need to go!" I wailed in distress, feeling the blush creep up my cheeks as she man-handled me like a recalcitrant toddler. "Are you sure?" She demanded, tilting me back and eyeing me in apparent disbelief. My vision swam and tears of shame brimmed in my eyes as I nodded earnestly. My cheeks blazed with embarrassment when she scathingly replied, "That's what you told us yesterday, little girl. And look what happened in my car..." she cruelly reminded me. "I had to leave the windows open all night to air out the stink!" Her emerald eyes flashed in warning as she took a plastic pinafore apron from a hook behind the door, and she slipped the loop over her head. She tied the cotton waist sashes behind the small of her back, covering her from neck to mid-thigh in a thick layer of protective transparent plastic. "Well you better not do anything in the bath, because if you do..." She let the threat hang unfinished in the steamy air, and simply lifted me into the waiting tub. The water was really hot, and as soon as my bum hit the bottom of the tub, I started peeing. I spitefully relaxed and emptied my bladder into the hot water, hoping Aunty wouldn't notice. Thankfully, she was preoccupied soaping up a wet flannel. After another of her scalding-hot baby baths, Aunty wrapped a towel around me and carried me into the spare bedroom. She snatched the damp towel from me and lay it out on the bed. "Lie down, baby, and we'll get you dressed for the day." Her grinning daughters followed a few minutes later to further witness my infantile humiliation. Aunty June powdered me all over, leisurely rolling and folding my tiny frame this way and that as she slid a thick bundle of white terrycloth under my raised rear. She didn't bother giving me any instructions this morning, treating me like an incompetent six-month-old incapable of following the simplest instructions. She pinned the fresh thick nappies over my loins and drew some plain tight transparent pilchers snugly over my heavily swaddled hips. After tucking in the leg bands, she covered them with some white satin rumba panties with several rows of wide yellow lace shimmering across the seat. Her watching daughters snickered in amusement as she sat me up and dressed me in another fancy short party frock she must have borrowed from Mandy's youngest. This crotch-length toddler dress was fashioned from crisp, heavily-starched white cotton, with yellow lace trimmings and a wide yellow satin sash sewn around the high Empire waist. It even had two layers of stiff white tulle petticoats sewn inside edged with yellow lace, to make it flare out crazily over my diapered hips. Aunty buttoned the back of the frock up to the nape of my neck, and then tied the yellow sash behind me in a big floppy bow. The thin cotton anklet socks were white with elaborate yellow lace trimmings, which my Aunty ordered me to fold down neatly. She fussily made me rearrange the wide lace frills above my ankles till the floppy yellow rows were even, then handed me my Princess Barbie doll. "Here you go, baby," she cooed, like she was doing me a big favour. "Here's your dolly. You can take her shopping with you. Make sure you hang onto your Barbie like a good little girl." After she buckled my black patent Maryjanes on my feet, she took my free hand and led me to the kitchen. She collected her handbag and keys, gripping my hand tightly as she led me down the hallway to the front door. When I whimpered and tried to pull back, I realised her daughters were standing right behind me, blocking my escape. "Please no?" I uselessly begged, writhing in shame in her iron grasp. "No, no! I don't want to!" The heartless girls shoved me forward. I had nowhere to go; there was no escape. Aunty held up the pink toddler's dummy and shook the attached pink plastic chain in warning. "I'll make you keep this in your mouth all day if I hear one more word of complaint!" She threatened, and my eyes widened in fear. I clamped my mouth shut and shook my head in frantic denial. Her snickering daughters followed us outside, and they watched from the front veranda as Aunty dragged me down the front path and onto the sidewalk out front. "Bye-bye Baby Candy," they sang, waving to me and laughing at my terrified expression. There was a brisk wind gusting about, and my dress flew up around my waist for a few seconds. I struggled to hold down the front of my skirts and petties with the Barbie doll I clutched in my free hand. My anxious eyes darted around the street, hoping there were no witnesses to my humiliating exposure. I whimpered in fright, but a fierce look from Aunty rendered me silent. I kept my mouth closed as Aunty June escorted me numb and trembling down the two long blocks to the small local shopping centre. Fortunately we didn't pass anyone on the way, but when we approached the shops, I saw a few people wandering about. Aunty smiled tightly as I clutched both her hand and my Princess Barbie in terror, sticking like glue to her side the whole way and fearfully trying to conceal my small frame behind the billowing skirts of her long dress. She led me past a couple of women who seemed to take no notice of me, thank goodness, and then she dragged me inside a new-and-used children's clothing store, right next door to a busy hairdressing salon. Inside the spacious store, Aunt June took her time selecting a number of appropriately juvenile dresses and skirts for me to try on. She even picked out a white petticoat with a silky nylon bodice, holding up the plastic hangar as she examined the fullness of the fluffy chiffon skirts. She filled a plastic shopping basket with girls' tops, some lacy anklet socks, and a few pairs of ribbed, pastel-coloured tights. A pretty teenage salesgirl in a red shirt and a tiny pair of denim shorts bounced over and asked Aunty, "Can I help you, Ma'am?" I saw her breast pocket bore the store logo - 'Toddlers to Teens.' "Not right now thanks," my Aunty replied with a polite smile. "I'm just picking out a couple of new outfits for my little girl." The blonde teen turned and glanced down at me, her pretty face breaking into a broad smile. She rested her hands on her bare knees and crouched down so that we were almost at eye-level, granting me a perfect view down her gaping red blouse. Her creamy breasts surged forward, barely held in place by the white cups of her plain cotton bra. "Aren't you a pretty little thing," she cooed. "And don't you look gorgeous in your sweet little party frock." Aunt June tossed me a condescending smile when I glanced down shyly at the floor and blushed bright pink without replying. In that cloying sacharine voice she chided me; "What do we say when someone pays us a compliment, baby?" I couldn't look at the smiling young woman when I replied in my best little-girl voice, "Thank you, ma'am." Aunty sniggered at my convincing attempt to sound like the little girl I was dressed as. "Good girl," she praised me with mocking eyes. I was relieved when Aunty snatched my paw and dragged me away from the grinning salesgirl. "Come along, Baby Candy. Let's try some of these cute outfits on you." She led me into a large communal fitting room designed for mothers and toddlers, and I stared in fascination at my reflection in the huge mirror mounted on the end wall. I actually looked like a little girl aged around six or seven, despite the shiny crotch of my satin rumba panties peeping out below my lacy petticoats. Aunty June hung up the clothes she'd selected for me on a nearby hook mounted on the wall. She swiftly unbuttoned the back of my dress and untied the yellow satin sash. "Turn around and face me, baby girl," she ordered, twirling me around. "You'll have plenty of time to admire yourself later," she remonstrated me, as though I was a vain little girl fascinated by my own reflection. In truth I was, but it was so embarrassing being scolded for my excusable behaviour like a naughty toddler in front of other people. "Give your dolly to me for the moment, baby." She took my Barbie from my hands and stuffed my doll in her shoulder bag. Despite the fact that there were two other mothers in the change room with their toddlers in tow, she removed my white cotton frock. One after another, she slowly made me try on all the clothes she had selected for me. My cheeks were already crimson when the other little children noticed my obvious thick nappies and baby panties, but when they started to whisper to their Mummies and point out my diapered shame, I wanted to shrivel up and die! When the adults turned to stare at my humiliating nappies, I let my chin droop and lowered my teary gaze to the shiny black shoes buckled on my feet. Aunty ignored my grizzled protests and fed my limp arms through the sleeves, bunched up the petticoats and frocks, and slipped them over my submissively bowed head. I meekly stood there, trembling with humiliation as she tugged me this way and that. After carefully checking the fit of each garment, it would be ripped from my body and the next frilly outfit thrust in its place. I closed my eyes and tried to ignore what was happening to me when she pulled down my rumba panties. She unbuckled my Maryjanes, and then slid my frilly anklet socks off my feet. My plastic panties were so transparent, you could see the big pink pins underneath, and every crease and fold of my nappy. I felt certain everyone was staring at my shameful infantile underwear. I was grateful when she slid a stretchy pair of white ribbed tights over my bare feet and tugged them up to my knees. The lycra- cotton felt so soft against my baby-smooth skin, and I marvelled at the silky erotic feel. Aunty June had to stretch open the wide elastic waistband to slide the thick tights over my bulky nappy, but then she tugged the tights high around my waist. She seemed satisfied with the fit, and ripped off the tag before she slipped my rumba panties back over the top. She put my socks back on my feet too, rearranging the yellow lace frills to sit attractively around my ankles, and then buckled the black patent Maryjanes over the top. She smiled in approval as she informed me, "Lovely! That's how little toddler girls are supposed to wear their tights, honey." After what seemed like hours, Aunty dressed me once more in the starched white cotton frock she'd picked out for me first thing this morning. She gathered together the clothes she'd selected for me and dumped them in the shopping basket, then dragged me out of the change room and over to the infant and toddler's section. She released my hand and picked out a package of extra-large, contoured cloth nappies from the shelf with a grunt of approval. The string-tied package was enormous! She then searched for the girls' extra-large wetproof baby panties, but the bin where they should have been on display lay empty. I timidly waddled after her like an obedient puppy, blushing and holding my head down in disgrace, and the helpful young salesgirl wandered over and asked Aunty, "Need any help?" Aunt June asked, "Do you have any more girls' extra-large wetproof panties in stock? There aren't any left in this bin." The girl motioned to an assortment in size 'large,' asking my Aunt, "How big is your baby? Our 'large' will fit most big toddlers." To my undying shame, my Aunt reached down and raised the front of my skirt and petties. She loudly declared; "My big baby is right here! And as you can see, she really needs the extra-large baby panties!" I tried to back away and push the front of my dress back down, but Aunty's iron grip on my hem stopped me. She continued scathingly, "My naughty little girl still wets her panties and her bed occasionally. I've decided to put Baby Candy back in nappies, pilchers, and toddler frocks for a few weeks, as a suitable punishment." When she released her hold on my frock I stumbled backwards like a clumsy toddler, almost tumbling onto my bottom. The attractive teen salesgirl fought to hold back her laughter. Grinning madly, she offered to check the stock room out back. "You wait here with your big baby," she told Aunty. "I'll be back in a couple of minutes." She returned a few minutes later holding up a small stack of extra-large, girls' baby panties, followed by another young saleswoman who was struggling to keep a straight face. Her brunette associate was carrying a handful of shiny satin rumba panties, like the ones I had worn at Mandy's, and I could tell the lace-lavished panties were lined with a thick layer of stiff, wetproof plastic. "These ones should fit her," the grinning blonde confidently predicted. "they're all extra-large." With the salesgirls and some other interested customers looking on, my Aunt made me pull up my dress and petties above my waist, completely exposing my frilly satin rumba panties with the obvious bulging nappies underneath. I knew my bladder was full, and I had been suppressing the need to urinate for several agonizing minutes. I shifted my weight from foot to foot in a restrained version of a toddler's potty-dance, until the smirking salesgirl snapped, "Stop fidgeting, Baby Candy! Keep still for your Mummy." I could have protested that Aunty June wasn't my Mummy, but I knew it wouldn't have made any difference. Aunt June held a crackling pair of shiny pink PVC panties stretched across my slender waist. She gleefully announced, "Oh good! These will fit her just fine!" I moaned from a combination of shame and pain as I felt a sharp spasm in my loins. I went still as a statue, my little feet spread wide, and instinctively bent my knees as a burst of scalding-hot urine jetted from my tiny tool. In the momentary lull, I would have sworn they could all hear the unmistakable sound of my wetties tinkling into my nappies. The hot stream seemed to pour out of me for ages, and the rising heat around my bum and genitals was strangely comforting. The brunette salesgirl observed my vacant expression and my tell-tale stance with wide eyes, then she stared at my drooping panty crotch before she burst out laughing. "Oh my! I think some little girl just had an accident in her panties," she giggled. The watching women gathered around us heard her derisive comment, and many started laughing at me. "Baby Candy!" My Aunty scolded me. "Bad girl! Why didn't you tell me you needed to use the potty, you silly little girl?" She shook her head and frowned in disapproval, then held out her shopping basket and nodded for the salesgirls to drop the baby panties inside. "I think we'll be needing all those wetproof panties," she said in a sorrowful voice. As if the idea had suddenly occurred to her, she asked the chuckling teenagers, "I don't suppose you stock potties big enough for my overgrown toddler? Maybe I could try potty-training her all over again?" "As a matter of fact, we do!" The pretty blonde grandly announced. "Bring your little nappy-wetter over to aisle six." Leading the way, she escorted us to the section with several shelves displaying a variety of brightly-coloured plastic potties. She stood on tippy-toes, her tight blue denim jeans shorts hugging her lush round rump before she lifted down a pink potty shaped like a teddy bear in front. Her grin grew to Cheshire Cat proportions as she placed the portable toddler's toilet on the floor in between my widely-splayed feet. "This is the largest girl's potty we stock, suitable for toilet- training children from four to six years. I'm sure it will be big enough to hold your little girl. And see? The teddy bear's ears make little handles for your toddler to hang onto, while she does her business on the pot-pot. It comes with a lid too, to help reduce the smell when she's done," she demonstrated while removing it, "and the whole thing comes apart for easy cleaning. You can even toss it in the dishwasher," she confided conspiratorially. "That looks fine," nodded Aunty June, smiling in grim approval. "We'll take the potty, too." The overly-helpful salesgirl suggested, "Do you want me to pull her panties down and unpin her nappy, so she can try it on for size first?" For one awful moment, I thought Aunty was about to grant the girl permission! Instead of answering her, Aunty turned to me and demanded, "Baby Candy? Do you still need to use the potty, little one?" "No! I wailed in alarm. I shook my head in fearful denial, and the horrified expression on my face made both women laugh. "Did you wet your nappy already?" Aunty demanded in a surprised tone, as if she didn't already know the answer. "Tell me, baby." "Yes, I wet my nappy," I confessed, tears of shame filling my eyes. "I wet my nappy! I want to go home! I want to go home now!" I shrilly demanded. Aunty's wolfish smile instantly turned into a severe frown. She reached into her handbag and produced the big pink pacifier on the plastic chain. Without a moment's hesitation, she thrust the amber rubber teat between my trembling lips and held her hand over the guard until she could feel me sucking. "I warned you not to complain! Now you can keep that in your mouth for the rest of the day, Baby Candy!" Aunty muttered darkly. She turned to the stunned young woman watching us, her pretty mouth agape. "Take this potty and these nappies up to the front desk, please miss. We'll meet you there in a minute. I want to pick up a couple of extra-large baby bottles, and I need a spare pacifier with a chain and clip for my naughty little toddler, too." After pointing us in the right direction, the chuckling salesgirl stood from where she had been crouching at my feet, and she carried the humiliating pink potty and the bundle of terry nappies back to the front desk. There was a huge pile of bibs on sale, stacked on one of the tables we walked past. Aunty paused to flick through the selection. She laughed at some of the embroidered messages, and chose a few of the larger ones for me. I noticed they were all in feminine pastel colours, with lavish lace trimming around the neck holes and outside edges. Some of them had protective plastic backings, for the messier toddlers. Aunty made sure a few of those went into her shopping basket, too, before she resumed her search for the baby bottles and dummies. When we shuffled over to the checkout a few minutes later, I was sucking on a new, bigger pacifier. It was a 'Nuk No. 4, therapeutic trainer,' and the huge amber rubber teat filled my mouth in a strangely satisfying way. There was a pink plastic chain running from the loop of my humiliating pink pacifier, all the way to a brightly-coloured clip shaped like a daisy, which was attached to the stiff wide Peter Pan collar of my starched white frock. The light plastic chain was long enough so that it bounced distractingly against my chest with my every awkward shuffling step. The smirking blonde salesgirl was waiting behind the counter to ring up our purchases. She took the time to read some of the messages on the bibs Aunty had chosen for me. Her eyes drifted from each bib to my blushing pink cheeks and then back to the next embroidered script, and she giggled several times and shook her head in apparent disbelief. After she rang up the half-dozen big pink baby bottles, she hefted one in assessment. "These are the biggest baby bottles we stock," she confided to Aunty. "They hold about twenty ounces each." The clear silicon teats were huge, too, and easily looked as big as the nipple of the new dummy in my mouth. The girl patted the pile of nappies and the wetproof panties she had already bagged up on the counter, and then she stared pointedly at my drooping satin panty crotch. She giggled, "It looks like your Baby Candy will be needing some of these as soon as you return home." Contempt was clearly etched on her pretty features when she snorted to my Aunty. "What a lucky big baby girl she is to have such a generous Mummy looking after her!" "Thank you, Miss." Aunty put her purse away and turned to me. "Hold out your arms, sweetie. Good girl." Aunty June pushed the handle of a packed plastic bag over each hand, and slid them up around my wrists. One was filled with shiny plastic panties and rumba panties, the other was overflowing with lace-edged bibs. "Here darling. You can carry this, too," she insisted, handing me the big pink potty shaped like a teddy bear. Aunty made me lug the embarrassing pink plastic potty all the way home, and our pace was slowed by the heavy bundle of nappies and the bags of baby things we were carrying. To be continued in chapter 8. Please keep those comments coming. I would love to know what you think of this updated version of an old favourite sissy-AB story. Hugs from Baby Jennie in Australia