Baby Candy Chap. 9 free porn video

Chapter 9. Fun in the Playpen When Brenda strolled out a short time later, she was carrying a cold drink in one hand and a small bundle of books in the other. I spat out my dummy and glared up at her like a cranky toddler. "You didn't tell me I was supposed to ask for the potty," I complained, whining like a sulky two-year-old. She walked past the playpen to the swing seat at the far end of the veranda and placed her drink on the floorboards and a thick paperback novel on the vinyl-covered, padded bench seat. I turned and followed her inside my playpen, clutching the wooden bars with one hand for support. When she bent over, I couldn't help admiring how her tight denim skirt wrapped around the swell of her womanly hips and her beautiful big round bottom. She stood and turned to gaze down at me. "I didn't realise you had to be told to ask to use the potty." Brenda sniggered and gave me a condescending smirk that made my cheeks flush with warmth. "I mean, how old are you, really? Two? Or maybe three? Let's face it. Most pre- schoolers have enough common sense to ask to be taken to the toilet. Obviously you don't. You really are a hopeless little baby, you know?" I didn't know what to say, and without thinking, I shoved my dummy back in my mouth to cover the embarrassing silence. She leaned over the side of my playpen, holding out two thin books and a packet of crayons. "Here, Baby Candy. Mrs Fields bought you some colouring-in books and some crayons." I tore my gaze from her astonishing cleavage and accepted the slender volumes from her with an expression of distaste, which made Brenda giggle. Her massive fleshy mounds began to jiggle, and I couldn't help staring at them in awe. She insisted in a teasing tone, "Aren't you a lucky little girl?" One was a Barbie book, and the other was a 'My Little Pony' colouring-in book. Both had colourful cardboard covers, and were printed on cheap paper. The packet contained a dozen colourful fat crayons, and the writing on front proclaimed they were 'safe for children 2-5 years old.' When I disdainfully let the books drop to the padded floor of my playpen, Brenda frowned and gave me a warning shake of her head. "Uh-uh, baby! Mum said you have to colour in at least one page from each book, and show them to Mrs Fields before she leaves. Otherwise you'll get into trouble. You don't want that, do you baby?" I shook my head in denial, my bottom lip poking out as I ungraciously opened the Barbie book to examine it. It contained dozens of black and white drawings of Barbie in different outfits. There were close-up shots of her pretty face, half-body drawings, and full-length pictures to be coloured in. "Get on with it," Brenda warned me, smiling in that smug superior way of hers before she returned to the swing seat. She arranged the cushions against the arm at one end, picked up her book, and reclined on her side with one elbow on the cushions. The wooden seat swung lazily on the long steel chains bolted to the rafters. "Mum said I had to stay out here keep an eye on you, so you can tell me when you need to use the potty. Alright, baby girl?" I glared up at her through the bars of my playpen, chewing on the rubber teat in my mouth to silence my retort. As if I was going to let her sit me on the potty out here, in front of anyone passing by? She picked up her drink and took a swig, the ice-cubes tinkling against the glass like wind chimes in a light breeze. Her emerald eyes watched me dispassionately over the frosty rim. I lay down on my tummy facing her, my damp nappies bunched under my groin, and pressed the Barbie book flat at a random page. I opened up the package of crayons and tipped them out, and I picked out a pastel-pink crayon and started colouring in Barbie's face. Brenda smiled down at me and nodded in approval, and took another hefty gulp of her diet soda, making her huge bosoms heave attractively beneath her fluffy white top. When she put down her drink and opened her book, she curled up her long legs so that her white leather boots rested on the seat cushion, her slender high heels pressing against her big round bottom. Her tiny denim skirt crept up around her wide womanly hips, until I had an unobstructed view of the crotch of her shiny white nylon panties. I felt my peenie begin to stiffen inside the comforting wet warmth of my nappy, and I wriggled about on my hips when the swelling head slid up my baby-smooth tummy towards my belly-button. I kept my lustful gaze glued to the shiny crotch of her panties for a few minutes, chewing mindlessly on my dummy teat while my little stiffie grew to full hardness. When Brenda glanced up at me over the top of her novel, I swiftly tore my eyes from her proud pudenda and tried to concentrate on colouring in my chosen drawing. I gave my Barbie sky-blue eyes and hot-pink lips, but I kept sneaking glances at my cousin's panty crotch, obsessed with the hidden treasure I knew to be barely concealed beneath the thin layer of silky nylon material. I don't know what book she was reading, but Brenda was obviously enjoying it. It had a lurid cover showing a couple dressed in eighteenth-century clothing. They were locked in a close embrace, and kissing passionately. The title was 'The Captain's Daughter,' splashed across the front in scarlet embossed lettering. Her eyes remained riveted to the pages, even when I began to discretely rock and roll on the thick wad of wet cloth cushioning my sensitive stiffie. My plastic-lined rumba panties and plastic pilchers rustled noisily as I wriggled about on the padded vinyl floor, but Brenda didn't seem to notice. I kept stealing glances at her exposed underwear, and my eyebrows crept up my forehead when I saw her right hand slide down over the front of her skirt. I watched entranced as she began rubbing the heel of her hand against her panty crotch through the denim material. Her tight nylon panties cupped her nether lips so snugly, I could see every delicate crease and fold of her pouched womanhood. Brenda sighed languidly as she curled her fingers under the hem of her short denim skirt, letting them brush against her exposed panty crotch. The tip of her index finger trailed from the shiny gusset of her silky white knickers, all the way up to the top of her feminine crease. I could see her mouth below the bottom of her paperback book, and she was occasionally gnawing her plump red bottom lip with her white top teeth. Her fingertip slid down an inch along the slippery furrow between her puffy pussy lips, then came to rest over one particular spot. A second finger joined the first, and she began to slowly massage the same spot over her panty crotch in tiny circles. She sighed again, a little louder this time, and the circling fingertips began to move a fraction faster. The tip of her pink tongue poked out as she delicately licked her painted lips that had suddenly gone dry. I gasped quietly in excitement as I watched my voluptuous older cousin caress her secret spot. I clamped my lips around the soft rubber teat in my mouth to silence my muffled cries, my stiff little tool pounding with excitement as I thrust my raging hard-on against the warm soggy front of my nappy. I clutched an aqua crayon in my hand, my colouring book all but forgotten as I discretely masturbated against the drenched cloth of my sodden diapers. Brenda removed her playful fingers to turn the page of her book, and I could see a tiny, shiny wet spot staining the gusset of her panties. I thrust my hips even harder against the padded floor of my playpen when her naughty hand delved under her skirt once more, and the secretive caresses began anew. My throbbing peenie was rock-hard with excitement, and the slick wet front of my nappies felt so good. I wriggled and rocked on my warm wet swaddling, thrusting faster and faster, panting harder and harder. I froze when I heard Brenda's gay laugh, and when I tore my eyes from her moist panty crotch and dared to glance up, I realised my cousin had been watching my tell-tale masturbatory antics over the top of her book. "I knew it!" She giggled gleefully, batting her long black lashes at me coquettishly. "I knew you were enjoying this sissy baby treatment." She slid her hand away from her panty crotch and demurely tugged her skirt down. She sat up, placing her book aside to stare down at me with a condescending smile. "Look at you!" She guffawed in amusement at my guilty expression. My eyes dropped to the half-finished picture in front of me, my cheeks blazing with embarrassment. Her tone turned cloying when she added, "Awww, it's alright, baby girl! Aunty Brenda doesn't mind if you get all excited being treated like a helpless sissy baby. Go on!" She ordered, "Keep doing what you were doing. Show Aunty Brenda how you rub yourself against the front of your nappies. Go on, do it!" I felt so ashamed, I wanted to shrink away to nothingness and disappear. But my stiffie was throbbing with arousal inside my wet swaddling, demanding relief. I sucked harder on the teat of my dum-dums as I obediently began thrusting my rock-hard tool into my warm soggy nappies, rhythmically pressing my hips against the padded floor of my playpen while she watched. Despite my pink-cheeked embarrassment, she must have been able to read the arousal on my face. Brenda began to laugh, and she covered her luscious red mouth with one hand. "Aww, look at you, Baby Candy!" She chuckled, "You look like a real baby, wriggling about like that." Her voice was thick as molasses when she crooned, "Yes you do! You look like a pretty little baby girl in your playpen! Pretty Baby Candy in her wet, wet nappies. Such a beautiful, helpless little baby girl." I grunted wordlessly around the fat dummy-teat in my mouth, her kind words washing over me like a warm sweet bath. "Ooo, listen to you! Are you trying to talk? Make some baby sounds for me, Baby Candy. Go on! Show Aunty Brenda how you talk like a little baby - or I'll have to get Mum, and tell her what I caught you doing." I froze like a statue for a few seconds, terrified by her threat to fetch Aunty June. Brenda abandoned her book on the swing seat and stood up, striding over to the side of my playpen in her towering, knee-high platform boots. "I didn't tell you to stop, did I?" Her question carried more than a hint of warning, and I shook my head slightly as I compliantly rocked and rolled on the warm wet front of my nappy again. Brenda leaned on the playpen rail and smiled down at me in approval. "Good girl, keep wriggling on your tum-tums like that. Now I want you to make some baby sounds for Aunty Brenda. You know? Go 'goo-goo' and 'ga- ga' for me." She commanded, "Go on, do it!" "Goo-goo ga-ga goo-goo-goo-goo," I mumbled shame-facedly around my mouth- filling pacifier. My cheeks were blazing with embarrassment, and yet my little stiffie was throbbing so hard, it felt like it was about to explode. I couldn't understand why I found it so arousing to be humiliated like this by my buxom teenage cousin. "Goo-goo ga-ga goo! Ga- ba! Ba-ba da-da goo-goo goo!" I babbled like an excited infant as I frantically thrust my pounding tool into a delightful groove that had formed in the soggy front of my drenched diaper. Brenda leaned over the side of the playpen and reached down to pat my bobbing frill-covered bottom. Her meaty breasts surged forward, almost escaping the low-cut confines of her soft fluffy sweater. "Good baby," she crooned in loving maternal tones that made me gasp in pleasure. "That's my special little baby girl." She rested the heel of her broad palm against the frilly layers decorating my tushie, and she patted my padded rear with affectionate loud swats. The pleasant vibrations travelled through the snug baby panties and my warm wet nappies to that sensitive place between my legs, heightening my arousal. The sound of her cupped fingers rhythmically striking my plastic panties reminded me of the familiar sounds of the Nursery, and I began to quiver with unrepressed excitement. "Keep making your baby sounds while you wiggle about. That's my precious little baby girl!" She sang in approval. "What a sweet little bubba!" "Ga-ga goo-goo-goo!" I babbled nonsensically. I stared up at my buxom babysitter through the tall wooden bars in adolescent adoration. I slammed my diapered hips against the padded floor of my playpen with more urgency, overcome with desire. "Ga-ga goo-goo ga-ga goo!" "Good girl! Good baby! That's my beautiful little baby girl!" Brenda had her booted feet spread wide for balance as she leaned over the top rail to pat my bottom, and I was looking right up between her spread legs. I could see the crotch of her shiny white panties stretched between her plump womanly thighs, where the pouched crotch adhered to the moist flesh underneath. I stared at the tiny damp spot staining the gusset in wide- eyed fascination, my mouth filling with saliva. I wondered if Brenda ever wet her panties too, and that was the erotic thought that seemed to drive me over the edge. "Goo-goo ga-ga-ga!" I sucked harder on my sloppy dum-dums as I made my baby sounds, and suddenly the hazy afternoon light started strobing before my eyes. I let my head collapse onto the slick vinyl surface of my playpen and clenched my eyes shut, thrashing my feet and waving my hands about like a mindless infant. "Ga-ga goo!" My face became suffused with blood, and I felt my cheeks grow hot. "Goo-goo ga-ga goo-goo." Even with my eyes tightly closed, there were coloured lights exploding inside my eyelids. "Ga-ga! Ma-ma!" A thin layer of perspiration burst out of my pores, dampening my forehead and my upper lip beneath the bobbing pink guard of my dum-dums. "Who's my precious baby girl, hmmm?" Brenda demanded in tender loving tones. "Who's my beautiful bubba? Baby Candy, that's who!" The affectionate swats on my bobbing bottom grew firmer and faster, the erotic vibrations sending me wild. I was oblivious to everything except her crooned words of approval, the comforting touch of her firm hand on my bottom, and the thrilling feel of my clinging wet nappies. "Ma-ma! Ba-ba! Ga-ga-goo!" I squealed, sounding for all the world like an excited baby girl. My pounding peenie exploded inside my warm wet nappies, spraying sticky baby juice all over the front of my clinging wet nappy. I twitched and writhed on my tummy with each massive jolt, gasping breathlessly around the teat of my dum-dums as the aftershocks made me tremble like jelly. "Ma-ma! Ma-ma!" I burbled wetly, drooling uncontrollably in my moment of passion. "That's it, baby. What a good baby girl," Brenda giggled as she praised me. "Get out all the bad baby juice for Aunty Brenda," she cooed in approval. "Ma-ma! Ma-ma!" I slobbered in relief. I barely felt the warm stream of spittle trickle around the pink guard of my pacifier and dribble unheeded down my chin, forming a shiny puddle on the pink vinyl floor of my playpen. Brenda laughed gaily as my twitches and shudders gradually slowed to a halt, and she gave my trembling bottom one last crisp hard spank before she stood erect. She leaned on the top rail with both hands and stood there grinning down at me, until I opened my eyes and anxiously glanced up her. She inquired in that sickly-sweet tone, "Was that good, baby girl? Did Baby Candy like that, hmmm?" When I went to take the dummy out of my mouth, she stopped me with a warning wag of her finger. "Ah-ah-ah! Aunty Brenda didn't say you could spit your dummy out, baby girl." She insisted, "You keep that dum-dums in your mouth and tell me how much you enjoyed yourself in baby-talk, like a proper baby should. Go on!" As I came down from my tumultuous climax, my feelings of exhilaration and arousal were replaced by a sense of humiliation and abject shame. My sixteen-year-old cousin had just witnessed me masturbating to orgasm into my wet nappies, and I felt so embarrassed. I wanted to shrivel up and die. The guard of my dummy was wet with drool, and it feel mushy and sloppy against my lips. I wriggled the amber rubber teat around in my mouth with my tongue, and when I caught sight of the slimy puddle of spit on the floor of my playpen, I cringed in shame. I wiped it up with the edge of my bibbie, hopefully before anyone noticed. Brenda sat down on the swinging seat and picked up her drink and her book. "Go on, little girl. Let me hear you babble like a happy baby while you do your colouring-in," she encouraged me with a sly smile. "I love it when you make your baby sounds." I could feel my cheeks getting hotter as they suffused with fresh blood, and I picked up a dark-green crayon with shaky fingers. Moments after my mind-blowing climax, I suddenly felt terribly ashamed to be dressed like a sissy baby out in public where anyone could see me. My wet nappies which moments before felt so stimulating, abruptly felt cold and clammy around my shrivelling genitals. But I knew I had no choice except to obey my bossy cousin's humiliating instructions. "Ga-ga goo! Ga-ga goo-goo! Goo-goo goo-goo ga," I mumbled around the fat rubber teat which filled my mouth, struggling to sound like a contented baby in spite of my overwhelming sense of shame. I tried to focus on the drawing in front of me, trying to avoid Brenda's superior satisfied smirk. "That's it, baby," she sweetly encouraged me. "Now you sound like a proper baby girl." "Ga-ga ga-ga goo-goo goo," I babbled shame-facedly as I mindlessly coloured in Barbie's dress. "Ga-ga goo-goo ga-ga ga." I kept my eyes glued to the page in front of me. I didn't want to look up and see her smirking down at me. "Ga-ga goo-goo, goo-goo ga." "My goodness! She even sounds like a little baby!" Mrs Fields commented with a derisive laugh, as she stepped out onto the front veranda. I immediately fell silent and sucked harder on my dum-dums, my red cheeks turning crimson. Even my ears turned red, and I could hear a high-pitched thrumming in my head. "I told you, Grace," snickered Aunty June from behind the plump brunette. "She looks like a sissy baby, she acts like a sissy baby, and-" "She even talks like a sissy baby," Grace Fields completed the unkind comment for her friend with an indulgent chuckle. She stepped over to the side of my playpen and peered down at me lying on my stomach. "Have you been colouring in your books like a good little girl, baby? Show Aunty Grace." I rolled over and sat up, only then realising how wet I was. I held up the slim book and showed her the picture of Barbie I had mostly coloured in. The chubby woman frowned as she squinted short-sightedly down at my handiwork, and she clucked her tongue in reproval. "You haven't done a very good job of staying inside the lines, sweetheart," she gently chided me. "Maybe you need to practice." I couldn't tell the nosy old woman I had been watching my sexy teenage cousin masturbate while trying to colour in. I was lucky to have coloured anywhere near the lines! "Don't worry," Aunty June reassured her disappointed next-door neighbour. "Baby Candy will have plenty of time in the playpen to practice over the next few weeks. I'll make sure she colours in a few drawings from each book every day, and you can have a look at them when you next come to visit, Grace. We can even stick some of baby's drawings on the fridge, for everyone to see." I shuddered at the thought of spending hours locked in this infantile prison on Aunty's front porch. "What a lovely idea!" Grace rejoined, smiling at the thought. "Alright, I must be off. I'll see you girls later." "See you later, Mrs Fields." Brenda waved goodbye to her mother's friend from the swing seat, and with a triumphant smile for me, she returned to reading her spicy novel. Aunty June escorted her friend down the front steps and chatted to her all the way down the front path. I rolled back onto my tummy, my soggy nappy squishing moistly under my shrivelled peenie, and returned to my colouring-in. I didn't realise I was sucking noisily on my dum-dums as I concentrated. Already it had become so much a part of my natural routine, I forgot I was even doing it. When Aunty June strolled back up the front steps, she asked Brenda, "Has Baby Candy asked for the potty yet?" It was like she considered me a hopeless infant, incapable of understanding or responding to her questions. I resented the unspoken inference, and grimaced in annoyance. "No Mum, not yet," her daughter replied, after a smirking glance at me. "Give me a call when she decides to behave like a big girl for once," Aunty June requested, before she vanished inside the house. "Okay, Mum," Brenda replied to her retreating back. I finished colouring in the picture of Barbie, and I had to admit, it looked like the clumsy work of a small child. I decided to do better with the next one, and opened the 'My Little Pony' booklet and started colouring the first drawing I came to. I was concentrating so hard, I didn't notice some of the local lads gathering on the footpath a few doors down the street. They were carrying cricket bats and wooden boxes to use as stumps, and I only noticed them when a couple of kids started arguing heatedly about who should bat first. There were about a dozen boys clustered around the quarrelling pair, and most of them appeared to be aged between ten and twelve. Even so, they were all taller than me, and much brawnier. I ducked my head down and concentrated on my juvenile drawing, hoping to escape their notice. Unfortunately, most of the local boys had crushes on my beautiful buxom teenage cousins. The lads had been playing street cricket for only a few minutes before one of the batsmen struck the tennis ball with a resounding 'wallop!' It flew through the air into Aunty June's front yard, and bounced across the neatly-manicured lawn, coming to rest against the brick foundations of the veranda. 'Oh no! No, no!' I thought in panic, writhing in anxiety. 'Don't let them come up here! They'll see me!' A ten-year-old boy in denim shorts and a plain white t-shirt jumped the low hedge bordering the property, and he dashed over to the porch. I felt a nervous spurt of warmth inside my nappy, and then a fresh hot stream surged out of my shrunken peenie. I couldn't help it. It was beyond my control. I lay there on my tummy with hot urine saturating my nappy front, frozen in fear. The fair-haired boy was momentarily distracted by the sight of me lying on my tummy in the huge playpen, surrounded by my dollies and dresses, but then he spotted buxom Brenda curled up on the swing seat and his eyes lit up. "Hi Brenda," he greeted her, giving her a shy smile and a little wave. She demurely tugged her short denim skirt down to cove an extra inch of plump womanly thigh. A chorus of yells from down the street reminded him of his duty, and he snatched up the tennis ball and threw it towards the wicket keeper standing behind the box stumps. I hoped he would immediately return to his game, but he lingered to chat with my busty teenage cousin. "Hello Tommy," she replied, before her emerald eyes dropped back down to the pages of her novel in an obvious dismissive gesture. "What are you reading?" He asked, desperate to start any conversation with the beautiful blonde teen. I could see he was staring in fascination at her massive fleshy cleavage, and wondered if I was so obvious? "Oh this?" Brenda tossed him an innocent smile as she demurely covered her fabulous feminine mounds with her open book. "Just a boring old romance novel." "Oh." The young boy had already lost interest, and his gaze shifted to take in me lying on my tummy in the playpen doing my colouring. He noticed my empty pink baby bottle resting against the bars that separated us, and he stared for a few moments at the big pink teddy bear potty sitting near the steps. From the expression on his face, I knew he knew they belonged to me. He pointed at me and asked, "Who's that, Brenda?" "That's my precious little niece, Baby Candy," Brenda informed him with a sly smile, making my cheeks blaze with fresh shame. My endless stream of wee-wees finally trickled to a halt, and I had to stop myself from wriggling about in the comforting warmth. The boy examined my blushing face until I felt compelled to look away. I tried to pretend that I was totally absorbed with colouring in the prancing pony in my book. I didn't realise my bib was poking out, and he could read the embarrassing 'Little Miss Potty Pants' legend it bore. I finished colouring the pony's tail dark red, and then started on the two ponies on the next page, trying to look preoccupied. Tommy commented, "She looks like the little girl who wanted to play cricket with us the other day. She kept trying to tell us she was a boy, and acted like a bit of a tomboy." "That's our silly Baby Candy," Brenda confirmed, making my heart shrivel in my chest. What chance did I have of forming any kind of normal relationship with any of the local lads now? I cringed in shame, chewing on my dummy-teat for comfort. "But as you can see, she's just a little baby girl." Her voice turned saccharine when she insisted, "Aren't you, Baby Candy?" I didn't know what to say. Nothing sensible came to mind, and I found myself mumbling mindlessly around the wide pink guard of my pacifier. "Num-num-num-num num-num-num." Brenda giggled and announced dismissively, "See? I told you. Just a helpless little baby girl." I knew the boy was staring at my big padded bum poking up in the air, and I was certain he could tell I was wearing nappies under my frill-laden rumba panties. "Oh, okay," he replied, although his eyes clouded over with uncertainty. A commanding yell from the team captain standing in the middle of the street drew his attention back to the game. "I gotta go. See you later, Brenda. See ya, Baby Candy." He darted back into the street, leaving me red-faced and trembling with embarrassment, while Brenda chuckled richly in amusement. When I glanced up a little later, a couple of boys had strolled over to the footpath beside Aunty's hedge and were peering across the lawn in my direction. I recognised one of them - Jimmy, the boy who helped Aunty June carry my nappies home the other day. I kept my head down and tried to ignore them, and when I looked up a little later, thankfully they were gone. The sun disappeared behind the scudding grey clouds again, and the wind picked up. It had grown noticeably cooler, and I was about to plead with Brenda to take me back inside when Aunty June walked out. She strode over to the side of the playpen in her towering tan boots, asking Brenda, "Well? Has our little girl done her business on the potty yet?" "No Mum," Brenda replied, looking suitably disappointed on my behalf. She sat up, dog-eared a page to mark her place, and closed her book. "It's getting a little cool out here. I'm going inside. Do you want me to let the baby out of the playpen?" "No, that's okay," Aunty June replied. To me she said, "Stand up, baby, and come here to Aunty. Let me check that nappy." I clumsily clambered to my feet and waddled across the padded floor towards her, standing in the natural child-like pose of a toddler about to have her nappy checked. "Lift up your dress and petties for me, sweetheart," she crooned in syrupy tones. I pressed the frilly lace hemlines against the front of my bib, and thrust my padded crotch out at her like an obedient toddler. She slid her fingers inside both elastic waistbands of my snug-fitting baby panties, worming her way down between my legs. "Baby Candy!" Her tone was so reproachful, my chin drooped in shame. "You are saturated, baby girl! You must have done another big wee-wee - or two," she scolded me, and she clucked her tongue in reproval. "Bad baby! Why didn't you ask Aunty Brenda for the potty?" I grumbled wordlessly around the teat of my dum-dums in reply, unaware that I sounded exactly like a whiny two-year-old. I couldn't look at her or Brenda standing smug-faced beside her. Aunty wiped her glistening fingers on my bib and then pointed to the dolls, dresses and crayons scattered about the padded pink surface. "Pack your toys away now, Baby Candy, like a good little girl." I chewed anxiously on my dum-dums as I shoved the dolls, dresses and accessories back in the little pink suitcase that Brenda gave me. I closed the colouring-in books, put the crayons back in the cardboard package, and handed everything over the top rail to Brenda, who accepted them with a broad smirk. Aunty June tossed me a quick smile of approval. "Give me your baby bottle. Good girl." She bent down, unlocked and unlatched the low wooden gate, and opened it high for me. "Come on baby, crawl out here and I'll change you," she commanded impatiently. "You are such a silly baby girl." My frill-edged bib dangled down between my arms, obscuring my view of my knees as I crawled out of the humiliating kiddie-prison. After I exited through the low hinged gate I tried to stand up, but Aunty's broad hand between my shoulder blades prevented me from rising. I gazed up inquiringly at her, sucking my dum-dums in confusion. "No baby," she chided me, frowning down at me. "Since you obviously want to keep acting like a silly little baby, we'll treat you like one. Stay on your hands and knees, Baby Candy. You can crawl into the house, all the way up to the Nursery for a nappy change. Go on! Off you crawl." She gave my wet bottom a hard wallop to send me scurrying on my way. I clumsily shuffled across the hard wooden veranda and into the house on my hands and knees, blushing furiously, my bemused cousin's bright peals of laughter following me down the carpeted hallway. I felt like such a fool, and I unconsciously drew harder on the amber rubber teat in my mouth, sucking it for the solace it normally provided. Aunty made me crawl up the stairs, too, smacking my protruding padded rear every slow humiliating inch of the way. Even though the thick terrycloth layers were drenched with urine, they still mostly protected my bobbing bottom from her crisp firm spanks. I shuffled along the landing carpet into the spare room - now designated as my 'Nursery' - encouraged along the way by a fresh barrage of noisy swats to my plastic- sheathed rear. Brenda watched us from the bottom of the staircase, giggling at my infantile progress, and then she followed us upstairs. As soon as I crawled within reach of the change table, Aunty swept me off the floor and sat me on the edge of the padded top. She untied my pink shoelaces and slipped my sneakers from my feet, but left my frilly anklet socks in place. "Lift your dress and petties up high, baby, and lie back for Aunty," she crooned, like she was talking to a real toddler girl. I lay back, watching her warily. "That's right, good girl. Now lift that bot-bot." She pulled down both pairs of wetproof panties to my knees, then ordered, "Botty down, and lift those little footsies high in the air. What a good baby girl," she sang in mocking approval, when I timidly obeyed her crooned commands. She tossed the rumba panties on the floor, and pulled the glistening baby panties clear of my raised feet. She balled up the dripping plastic panties and threw them in the nappy bucket at the foot of the change table. "Hmph! These panties are too wet to use again." She poked my yellowed nappy crotch with a grimace of annoyance. "What a wet nappy!" She removed the big pink-capped pins, and lowered the sodden front with a sigh of disgust. "You must have done lots more wetties in this nappy, you naughty girl." She demanded irritably, "What happened to asking for the potty like a big girl?" I turned my blushing face away from her searching gaze and didn't respond, and she clucked her tongue in irritation. "Tsk-tsk-tsk! Lift up, baby." I helpfully raised my bum so she could slide the drenched diapers out from under me, and they joined the baby panties in the big white bucket. I wondered if Aunty could tell I had recently squirted a huge load of baby juice into my nappy, but fortunately, she didn't seem to notice. I remained limp and unresisting as she wiped my bottom and genitals with a handful of cool moist baby wipes, making sure I was perfectly clean down there. "Come here, baby." Aunty June grunted with effort when she lifted me down from the change table, and she half-carried, half-dragged me over to an upright wooden chair near the mirrored vanity unit. She sat down on the hard wooden seat first and arranged her long denim skirt over her lap, and then lifted me face-down over her knees. My left arm was trapped against her lush body, and my long blonde pigtails brushed the floor for a few moments. My feet waggled uselessly in the air, the frilly yellow lace trimmings around my ankles trembling with my every fearful twitch and shudder. "But- but -but-" I stammered in confusion as she rearranged my struggling body so that my bare bottom was perched high in the air. "Shhh, Baby Candy," Aunty June firmly soothed me, as she flicked up my dress hem and petticoats out her way over my back. "Settle down. You know you were supposed to ask for the potty, but you didn't. You wet your nappy again several times. You're a naughty baby girl! Maybe you need a little reminder to do as you are told." Her hard hand came slamming down against my bobbing bottom with a resounding 'crack,' and I shrieked like a banshee. "Bad baby! Bad Baby Candy!" She reprimanded me, spanking me fiercely with every admonition. I squealed in pain and thrashed my legs, trying to avoid the blows - to little effect. "I'll teach you! Teach you to use the potty like a big girl" After the third harsh swat I burst out sobbing, and tried to cover my bottom with my right hand. Aunty simply grabbed my wrist in her left hand and forced my arm up my back, till my hand was trapped between my shoulder blades and I was moaning in agony from the pain in my right shoulder. "Keep that naughty hand out of the way," she scolded me, and then she began spanking me afresh with her hard right palm. I couldn't break free of her vicious grasp, and my attention was split between the pain in my shoulder and the battering my poor bottom was receiving. Tears fell like rain onto the wooden floorboards below my head, and my nose became clogged with snot as I tried to plead for mercy. After about a dozen hard spanks, Aunty screamed in horror. "Oh no! You dirty little girl!" She released my arm and rolled me off her lap and down her long legs in one fluid motion. She snatched her booted feet away and I collapsed on my side on the wooden floorboards, sobbing my heart out. "What's wrong, Mum?" I heard Brenda question from the doorway, and I realised she had been watching my humiliating punishment over Aunty's lap the whole time. "She wet herself while I was spanking her," her mother replied through teeth clenched in fury. Aunty June plucked at the edges of her long denim skirt and pulled the wet material up and away from her damp thighs. "Look at my dress!" She complained, displaying the dark wet patch I had left behind, the size of a bread and butter plate. "I'll have to go shower and change." To me she snapped, "You're a dirty, bad little baby girl!" I cringed in shame, sobbing penitently, tears running in rivulets down my cheeks. I honestly didn't realise I had lost control while she was spanking me. I didn't feel the warm flow trickling out of my peenie, as I had been preoccupied with the stinging pain in my burning behind. If I hadn't seen the evidence of my disgrace with my own eyes, I wouldn't have believed her. But the wet patch was there on Aunty's lap for everyone to see, and I shuddered and sobbed in embarrassment. Brenda controlled her giggles with difficulty and asked her mother, "Do you want me to clean up the baby and pin her in a fresh nappy while you go and change, Mum?" "Yes please, Brenda," Aunty June replied, seething with anger. She jumped to her feet and stepped over my shivering body, holding the wet skirt away from her thighs with an expression of revulsion. "I need to take a shower first. I'll have to deal with this wicked child's disgusting misbehaviour later." Despite the threat implied by her words, I was glad this afternoon's punishment session had drawn to a rapid conclusion. Aunty June hurried onto the landing and turned in the direction of her bedroom, calling over her shoulder, "Take care of my naughty Baby Candy for me, will you darling?" "Sure thing, Mum," Brenda replied, smiling broadly at me as she stepped into the Nursery in her knee-high white platform boots. Her stiletto heels click-clacked menacingly against the polished wooden floorboards. She scooped me under the armpits and dragged me to my feet, and led me stumbling towards the change table. She shook her head in disbelief at my infantile lack of control, her long blonde ponytail flicking over her shoulders. "Come on, baby. Upsy-daisy." She grunted with effort as she lifted me onto the change table, forcing me to lie on my back. "Settle down. Stop all that silly crying. Here, baby. Suck your dum-dums," she insisted, pressing the fat amber teat between my trembling lips. I gratefully drew on the mouth-filling pacifier, and it did help me stop crying. She used my frilly bib to wipe the remaining tears from my eyes, and when I could see clearly, I noticed Brenda giving me a sad little smile. "You won't learn, will you?" My buxom teenage cousin shook her head again, obviously at a loss. She took some baby wipes and carelessly wiped the traces of urine from around my shrunken peenie and wrinkled sack, watching my face the whole time. She demanded, "Don't you get it? If you keep acting like a silly baby, Mum will keep treating you like one. And I don't just mean dressing you in nappies and toddler frocks. You know the playpen and the highchair she borrowed from Aunty Mandy?" She waited expectantly for my reply, and I brushed away the remaining tears and nodded uncertainly. "Well, Aunty Mandy has lots of other baby things Mum can borrow - like a big stroller to wheel you around town in, and a toddler harness and reins set she used to use on her little girls. I heard Mandy offering them to Mum the other day. She turned Mandy down, but if you keep acting like a helpless little baby... Well, let's just say; I wouldn't keep provoking Mum, or you'll find yourself being treated like a useless infant 24/7 for the remainder of your holidays," she warned me. "She has lots of novel ways of humiliating you and punishing you. You'll see." I had to struggle to control myself when Brenda massaged in the lightly- perfumed powder. She raised my legs into the air and sprinkled the silky talc between my cheeks and all over my sore red bottom, and I couldn't help sighing with pleasure when she gently rubbed it in. She let my legs drop until my heels rested against the padded vinyl surface, and poured another handful of powder over my shrivelled peenie and ball sack. She watched my face as she carefully smoothed the silky talc over my genitals, and my peenie began to thicken. I closed my eyes to avoid her scrutiny as I sucked harder on the soothing rubber teat in my mouth. She giggled in derision at my stiffening erection, before she wiped her powdery hands clean on my trembling chest. I helpfully raised my bum so she could slide two fresh nappies underneath me, and fortunately she pinned them around my hips before my embarrassing tumescence grew to full size. "Lift those little leggies," she sang, "and point your toesies like a pretty ballerina." She slid a clean pair of transparent yellow pilchers over my pointed toes, and slid them up to my knees. "Good baby. Footsies down, and lift that bot-bot for Aunty Brenda." When I obeyed, she tugged the snug yellow pilchers over my huge nappy, until the wide elastic waistband was snug against my tummy. "No leaks for my baby girl," she crooned, as she tucked the tight elastic leg bands under the crotch of my thick fluffy nappy. She didn't bother dressing me in my rumba panties. She slipped my pink sandshoes back on my feet and tied the laces for me before she sat me up. "Down we hop," she cooed, helping me to clamber down from the padded table. She took my hand and led me out of the Nursery, and walked me to the staircase. She paused at the top step and released my hand, pointing to the carpeted steps. "Sit down, baby, and you can bump your way downstairs on your bot-bot like a proper toddler." I looked up at her in horrified disbelief, but despite her grin, I knew she was serious. I chewed resentfully on my dummy teat as I flopped onto my puffy padded bottom and slid downstairs step by step like a useless baby. My shiny plastic panties slipped easily across the carpeted steps, and made a loud 'plop' when they hit the step below. From the upstairs bathroom I heard Aunty June command Brenda, "Take Baby Candy out to the back yard and she can take her new nappies off the line. They should be dry by now, but you can toss them in the drier to fluff them out. I've pre-washed them, so they'll be more absorbent for our hopeless little wetter." Brenda laughed as she slowly waltzed down the stairs behind me. "Okay Mum," she called back over her shoulder. She took my hand when I reached the bottom step, and hauled me to my feet. "Come with me, Baby Candy, and we'll get the washing off the line." To be continued in chapter 10... provided I get some feedback. If you are enjoying this re-written sissy-AB story, please post a response here and let me know. Hugs from Baby Jennie in Australia