Baby Candy Chap. 16 free porn video

See how easy that was? You post some responses, and I post another chapter. Simple, huh? BJ Chapter 16. Playing Babies. When I finished colouring-in two pictures of Barbie, I closed that book and opened the 'My Little Pony' booklet. A few people wandered along the sidewalk past our house, and most of them turned to stare at me in my playpen but kept walking. I kept my eyes on my colouring books and tried to ignore their curious glances. After filling in two pages of prancing ponies I grew bored. I closed the juvenile picture book and pushed it aside, and stuffed the crayons back in the cardboard box like a good little girl. I unlocked the little pink suitcase and tipped out the contents. My Barbies spilled out, along with a rainbow of tiny dresses and accessories. I kept myself occupied for a while undressing and dressing my dollies like any normal little girl, mostly oblivious to the many bemused stares I attracted from passers-by. As I settled down my bladder relaxed, and a stream of almost scalding-hot wee-wees jetted into my fluffy dry nappy with any conscious thought. I enjoyed the thrilling familiar heat for a moment, then glanced at my pink teddy-bear potty. I gasped in alarm, biting down hard on my dummy-teat as I struggled to cut off my flow. I'd already wet and soiled several nappies today without asking to use the toilet. Despite the potential embarrassment of being forced to use my potty in public, I was more frightened of receiving another paddling from Aunty June when she returned home from work. I clumsily clambered to my feet and clutched my damp nappy front against my dripping clittie in a useless attempt to help control myself. I waddled to the bars nearest the front door and grabbed them for support, glancing towards the footpath to make sure the coast was clear. To my relief, the street was empty except for an old cream and maroon station wagon slowly rolling by. With one hand gripping one of the vertical bars for support and my other clutching my nappy front, I called out, "Aunty Alithon?" I spat out my dummy and repeated more clearly, "Aunty Alison?" I tried to pitch my voice to sound like the little girl I was dressed as when I desperately pleaded, "Pleathe Aunty Alithon? I need to uthe the potty." I didn't realise I was uncontrollably lisping like a silly pre-school girl, even without the huge rubber teat in my mouth. The distant voices in the kitchen fell silent for a moment. "I need to uthe the potty!" I squealed a bit louder. Despite the urgency of my need, I didn't want the neighbours hearing my desperate juvenile pleas. "Oh pweathe Aunty Awithon? Pweathe? I weally need the potty!" One of the girls inside said something, then they all laughed. I sighed in relief when I heard the sound of footsteps striding down the hallway, but then I heard a car simultaneously pulling into Aunty June's driveway. I turned and saw Aunty Mandy sitting behind the wheel of the cream station wagon I'd noticed rolling down the street, grinning through the windscreen at the sight of me dressed in my little-girl finery and locked in the playpen. Julia was sitting beside her staring at me with wide eyes, and her little sisters were in the back seat. My eyes widened in horror. Alison stepped out onto the front veranda in her flat black Princess slippers crooning, "Do you need to use the potty, baby girl?" My head whipped towards the front door and I saw Jill and Annette walk out, too, grinning down at me in anticipation. I snatched my left hand from my nappy front with a guilty start and clutched my dangling dum-dums instead. The grinning girls stood behind Alison as she leaned on the top rail and asked in syrupy baby-talk, "What is it, baby? Do you want to go potty? Do you need to go number ones or number twos?" The girls tittered as my cheeks blazed with embarrassment. I frowned resentfully up at Alison, unaware I was automatically raising my dummy teat to my lips. The sound of a car door slamming dragged my attention back to Aunty Mandy's car. Julia, her eldest had already leapt out of the passenger seat dressed in blue jeans and a yellow Hannah Montana t-shirt. The chubby eight-year-old trotted towards me on her sneaker-shod feet, her mouth open and her brown eyes wide. I bit on the firm rubber nipple of my comforting dummy in fear. Alison crouched down and unlocked the barred playpen gate, her slender thighs demurely clamped together beneath her black denim skirt. I was so distracted I didn't even notice if she flashed her panties at me. She stood and tossed her raven locks over her shoulder, and opened the hinged gate high in invitation. "Come on, baby girl," she encouraged me. "Out you crawl." I slithered away from the opening and clutched the bars with both hands. "No no," I mumbled around my dummy teat, my cheeks pink with shame. "I don't wanna." I didn't want her putting me on the potty while Mandy's girls were here. They were still unaware of my true sex, and I didn't want my embarrassing secret revealed to any more people. "Baby Candy!" Alison snapped at a volume and tone guaranteed to get my attention. She imperiously clicked her fingers beneath the raised gate and pointed at the teddy bear potty. "Your potty is out here, baby. Come on. Out you crawl." My fingers tightened around the bars as I frantically shook my head in denail. Seven-year-old Kate had joined her sister on the lawn beside the veranda. She was dressed in the same fashion as her big sister, except with a baby-blue Hannah Montana t-shirt. They were both staring at me through the playpen bars in wide-eyed disbelief. "I don't wanna," I pleaded like a cranky toddler, my words muffled by the wide pink guard of my dum-dums. Aunty Mandy ponderously climbed out from behind the wheel and then she released her youngest from the raised car seat in the back. The enormous brunette was simply dressed in a black t-shirt and black slacks, with her favourite dark leather sandals on her huge feet. "I don't wanna," I childishly repeated, my voice rising in fear, backing away from them all but unwilling to release my grip on the bars. I didn't want to compound my problems by stumbling backwards on the padded vinyl floor and tumbling onto my puffy bottom like a useless toddler learning to walk. "You don't wanna what, baby?" Alison demanded, letting her irritation creep into her voice. Eliza wriggled free of her mother's grasp and the enormous four-year-old raced up the front path and bounded up the steps. She was wearing a purple Barney t-shirt and a brief lavender-tinted denim skirt. She had pink sandshoes the same as mine, I noticed, except her white anklet socks had floppy purple lace frills around the ankles. "I don't wanna uthe the potty," I wailed, my cheeks crimson with shame. I gave up trying to contain my bladder and my whole body breathed a sigh of relief. At first it came out in a trickle but the flow swiftly grew stronger, the hot wee-wees squirting out to drench the front of my thick fluffy nappies. I sucked harder on my dummy teat, seeking the solace it normally provided as I helplessly wet myself, the soothing warmth draining down between my splayed thighs and soaking into the absorbent crotch of my thick thirsty nappies. Eliza threaded her way through the teenagers clustered around my playpen and pressed her face between the bars. "Hi Candy!" She squealed excitedly. "Are you playing babies?" Alison grew tired of waiting and let the crib gate drop. It banged against the bottom lip with a loud 'crash,' making me jump back in shock. I unintentionally released my grip on the bars and stumbled clumsily on the padded vinyl floor, wobbling backwards like an unsteady toddler before I lost my balance. With a wail of despair I tumbled backwards onto my warm wet bottom, my lacy dress hem flying over my tummy as I helplessly rolled onto my back. My pink gingham skirts flopped up around my chin and my little legs waggled uselessly in the air, helplessly flying apart and exposing my diapered crotch to my wide-eyed audience. "She's not playing babies. She is a baby," Jill anounced in a scornful voice, and Annette and Alison grimly nodded agreement. Fresh tears of shame pricked my eyes and I blinked rapidly to flick them away. I clumsily tried to sit up and brush down my wayward dress hem at the same time. "What's wrong, baby?" Alison demanded, her big brown eyes narrowed and her tone cool and reproachful. "Is it too late? Don't you want to sit on your potty any more?" "I don't think she needs to any longer," Jill snickered. Annette froze me with a withering glare, her tone reproachful. "Baby Candy! Did you wet your nappy?" I gazed around the many curious and contemptuous faces surrounding my playpen bars and wailed, "Yeth! Yeth! I wet my nappieth. I want my Mummy! I want my Mummy!" I burst into tears. I couldn't help it. I let my chin sink onto my chest, my dum-dums spilling from my lips as I inhaled deeply, filling my lungs to cry like a frustrated toddler. Mandy shuffled up the porch steps and nudged the girls aside to stand beside my playpen looking down at me. Her expression was one of contempt mixed with disgust. "What's wrong with the baby?" The brunette Amazon inquired, glancing at my raven-haired cousin. Alison shook her head, her full red lips pursed in dismay. "Hi Mandy. I think Baby Candy just wet her nappy," she informed the much taller, heavier woman. "She was supposed to try and hold it for the potty like a big girl, but..." Alison trailed off. The towering brunette leaned over the side of the playpen and grabbed me around the waist. I couldn't believe how strong Mandy was. She lifted me over the top rail with ease and plonked me over one broad hip, one huge hand cupping my droopy wet bottom. I instinctively wrapped my little legs around her as she leaned me back slightly, and she flipped my gingham frock over my tummy with her free hand. Mandy ignored my hiccupping sobs and effortlessly slid her fingers under one leg elastic of my baby panties. As soon as she made contact with my damp nappy crotch she ripped out her fingers, shaking her head and clucking her tongue in disapproval. "She's wet alright - although she isn't drenched. She doesn't need changing yet," was her expert assessment. The huge woman wiped her fingers on my bib and shoved my dummy back in my mouth in an attempt to quieten my wailing. "This nappy will easily handling another wetting or two." I was disappointed when Mandy returned me to the playpen without bothering to take me upstairs for a change. I flopped onto my puffy wet bottom and wailed with renewed vigour. "Why is she crying, Mummy?" Eliza demanded, her bottom lip protruding in sympathy with my unknown plight. "It's nothing," Mandy reassured her concerned youngest, clutching the huge toddler by the shoulder and giving her a little squeeze. "Sometimes babies cry for no good reason at all. It's best just to let them get it out of their systems," she advised. She used her toes to slide home the bolt on the playpen gate, locking me in once more. "Sometimes they just need a good cry. It's best to let them be. Come on girls." Mandy turned Eliza around and steered her towards the front door, asking Alison. "Is your Mum home from work yet?" My cousin shook her head and glanced at her wristwatch. "She should be home any minute. Come inside and I'll put the kettle on." Alison and her friends led Mandy and her daughter inside. Kate and Julia trotted up the steps and lingered on the veranda to stare down at the crying sissy baby locked in the playpen. I saw them reading the embarrassing 'Princess Potty-pants' message on my bib, and they sniggered hard-heartedly before they dashed inside. I sat there with tears running down my cheeks, coursing down my chin to dampen my frilly bibbie. At least the plastic backing stopped my gingham frock from getting wet. My shoulders shook and I sobbed my heart out, snot trickling from both nostrils and seeping under the pink guard of my dum-dums. I was trapped, with no way out. I was nothing but a baby; a helpless nappy- wetting, panty-pooping toddler with no control. No control at all. I collapsed onto the soft padded floor on my tummy, using the cotton front of my frilly bib to sop up my snot and tears. My dummy was like a soothing fat lozenge in my mouth and I chewed on it to help calm my frazzled nerves. I don't know how long I lay there crying, but I didn't notice Aunty June walking up the front path and pausing on the porch steps to stare down at me in contempt. I jerked up onto my elbows when I heard the familiar menacing sound of her high heels click-clacking towards me across the cedar boards. Aunty June was dressed in a smart navy business suit, with sheer tan hose and a pair of navy court shoes with four-inch stiletto heels. I rolled over and sat up facing her, wiping my snotty nose with the back of my hand. She looked so cool, poised and elegant. Her eyes were dark and smoky with mascara and eyeliner, and her luscious red-painted mouth was pursed into a thin hard line. Aunty June bent down and took the lid off the pink potty, noted it was unused and replaced the flat plastic lid with a frown. She stood and shook her head at me, contempt etched on every line of her beautiful painted face. I sucked harder on my dum-dums as I cautiously regarded her. Without a word my Aunty crouched down next to my playpen and reached through the bars. The glowering brunette slapped my thighs wider apart and forced her fingers inside one tight elastic leg band of my baby panties. Aunty June didn't bother scolding me, just shook her head in disgust as she wiped clean her glistening fingers on my humiliating bibbie. She stood and walked inside, leaving me shuddering in her wake and trying to master my wayward emotions. Mandy's girls must have grown bored with the adults' conversation in the kitchen. They drifted outside a few minutes later and Julia skipped over to her mother's car. Kate bounced down the porch steps behind her and watched as her big sister took their jump rope from the back seat. Four- year-old Eliza was carrying one of my big pink baby bottles when she stepped onto the veranda. She had her blonde hair in pigtails bound with floppy pink ribbons just like me. I realised Eliza and I were the only ones there wearing dresses. And of all the little girls, I was dressed in the most feminine babyish frock. The realisation only made me feel smaller and more infantile. Eliza crouched on the other side of the bars, carelessly letting her bare knees splay wide. I saw the oversized toddler had graduated from training panties to lavender cotton big-girl panties, and I felt an ugly flash of jealousy. Eliza poked the sloshing plastic bottle through the bars, clumsily aiming the nipple for my mouth. "Here Baby Candy," she offered, her expression consoling. "Mummy said you probably needed a drink after all that crying." I spat out my dummy and numbly let Eliza slip the seeping silicon teat between my lips, and I sucked automatically. Apple juice again, I distantly noted, but watered-down this time. Eliza held the heavy plastic vesel for a few moments, then guided my hands so I was holding my own bottle. "Good girl," she muttered, smiling encouragingly. "Come on Eliza," Julia yelled impatiently. "Leave the baby alone and come turn the rope for me." I watched the young girls as they arranged themselves on the front lawn and took turns skipping, feeling jealous of their freedom - and their grown-up big-girl underwear. They were chanting a little rhyme as they turned the rope, and the steady cadence was rather soothing to my ragged psyche. I sat there slurping from the teat of my baby bottle feeling for all the world like a real baby girl, watching the bigger girls sing and play. When my cousin Brenda came strolling up the footpath accompanied by her pretty blonde friend Trish, I didn't even care. Brenda looked gorgeous in her tight white t-shirt, pink denim mini-skirt and white strappy high heels, her enormous breasts jiggling and swaying with her every stride. Her shorter friend was similarly dressed in a brief blue denim skirt with a pink t-shirt, and pink sneakers without socks. I recognised the attractive sixteen-year-old from my trip to the mall with Alison this morning and shrugged dispiritedly. What was one more witness to my infantile humiliation? What was one more bucket of shame piled on top of a mountain of embarrassment? The cute teenager was giggling as she walked up the front path, her cornflower-blue eyes locked on me in the playpen. "See Trish? There she is - just like I told you," Brenda crowed triumphantly. They lightly leapt up the veranda steps and stood leaning on the top rail of my humiliating kiddie-prison gazing down at me in contempt. I returned their stares with dull uninterested eyes. "God!" Trish responded, curling her top lip in disgust. "She really looks like a little baby in that playpen, doesn't she?" As if seeing me in my humiliating stroller and bulging nappies this morning wasn't enough to convince her. "Let me hear you babbling like a good little baby girl," Brenda insisted, trying to show off her control over me. She wanted me to perform like a trained seal - or an obedient, well-disciplined toddler. I didn't see the point of resisting and let my bottle nipple fall from my lips. "Ma-ma!" I burbled wetly, ignoring of the stream of liquid dribbling down my chin. The girls sniggered and instinctively backed away a few inches from the spray of juice. I squealed louder, "Ma-ma! Ba-ba goo-goo ga-ga goo-goo!" Mandy's girls must have heard me over their chanting because they fell silent. Julia and Kate stopped turning the rope, pausing their skipping game to stare over at me with renewed contempt. "See?" Eliza pointed to me, yelling excitedly to her big sisters. "I told you. She is playing babies." I shoved the nipple of my bottle back between my lips and tilted the base up high. I sucked in a huge mouthful of juice, then started babbling again with the teat still copiously leaking. Apple juice squirted out from the corners of my mouth and splashed down my chin as I mindlessly gurgled, "Ba-ba ma-ma num-num-num-num." Trish's laughter died and her blue eyes narrowed, and I saw her purse her pink-painted lips in contempt. She shook her head at my revolting infantile display and turned away in disgust. She said to Brenda, "Thanks for showing me the baby. I've gotta run. I'll come back and help you babysit another time, okay?" "Sure thing," Brenda replied. She stepped closer to the front door and cocked her head, listening. "Sounds like a full house inside. I'll see you later, Trish." Brenda tossed me a disdainful grin before she disappeared inside. The cute blonde visitor didn't bother saying goodbye to me. Why would she? I was nothing but a baby to her. A useless big baby. She skipped lightly down the front steps and gave the silent girls in the front yard a wave before turning onto the sidewalk. As she walked away, Trish couldn't help glancing back at me sitting forlornly in my playpen. Even though she was too far away for me to read the contemptuous expression on her face, I could see her disdainfully shaking her head until she vanished from sight down the street. At Julia's insistence the girls started chanting and skipping again. My bottle was empty and I threw it against the bars in a childish fit of temper. It bounced back, rolling across the Barbie-print pink vinyl floor and coming to rest beside my foot. I sulkily kicked it away again and shoved my dummy in my mouth. My lips and chin were sticky with spilled juice and the pink plastic guard stuck to my lips. I found that forcing my saliva out made it less sticky, so I sat there freely dribbling as I noisily sucked on my dum-dums. Why should I care? I'm just a baby. A couple of girls in the neighbourhood must have heard Julia and her sisters singing their skipping song, and they wandered into our yard and greeted Mandy's girls by name. I recognised one of the visitors. She had short blonde hair and was the same height as Kate, the seven-year-old, although she was thin as a rake under her pink 'Princess Kylie' t-shirt. Kate yelled a greeting. "Hi Bella, Hi Emily!" Both girls were dressed in jeans and t-shirts, like Mandy's older children. I didn't recognise red- headed Bella in the green top, but I remembered meeting blonde Emily at Kate's seventh birthday party, and shuddered at the embarrassing recollection. Emily was the girl who insisted on feeding me the second bottle while I was locked in the crib at Aunty Mandy's, after the party. I remembered the bigger girls crowding around my cot to mock me, laughing at me and poking my nappies through the bars whie I lay there without even a blanket to cover my diapered shame. Emily had wanted to make me drink more so I would wet myself again, so she could help change my nappy. The two visitors strolled over beside the veranda to stare at me through the playpen bars. I returned their stares and burbled wetly, "Ma-ma ga-ga ga!" between sloppy slurps on my dum-dums. Like the others, they turned up their noses at my infantile performance. I could see Bella quickly dismissed me from her mind. To the sneering redhead I was nothing but a big baby, and therefore beneath her notice. She whirled away and asked Julia if they could join in their skipping game, and little Eliza was more than willing to surrender her place as a rope-turner. Emily was another matter. The skinny blonde girl stepped right over to the edge of the veranda, a few feet from the bars, her blue eyes wide as she watched me acting like a baby. She stared at me for the longest time, making the colour rise in my cheeks again. I ducked my chin and picked up my blonde Barbie, and pretended to be fascinated with changing her shoes while I mumbled some nonsense. Eliza paused beside Emily to point at me. "That's Baby Candy. She loves playing babies." "I know," the fascinated seven-year-old replied. "I've met Baby Candy before at your place." Emily eventually tore her big blue eyes from my cowering frame and twirled around to watch the skipping girls. I exhaled heavily, only then realising I'd been holding my breath. The cute blonde four-year-old trotted over to the front steps and joined me on the veranda. Eliza stood right next to the playpen bars and crouched down to examine me with wide brown eyes. She didn't seem to care that her thighs were splayed wide and she was showing off her pretty lavender panties. But then why would she? After all, I was just another little girl - just like her. Eliza whispered, "It's okay, Baby Candy. I like playing babies too, sometimes. Can I come in there and play babies with you?" Her sweet request surprised me, but I shrugged my shoulders like I didn't care. "Num-num-num-num," I replied around my sticky dum-dums. They way I saw it; I didn't really have any say in the matter. I couldn't unlock the gate from the inside. I was a prisoner of this juvenile contraption. Eliza took my lack of response for a 'yes,' and she tried to slide open the bolt securing the hinged barred gate. Either her fingers were too small or she wasn't strong enough, because she gave up after a few minutes of struggling. Eliza looked at me and frowned. "I can't open it. I'll have to get my Mummy." She stood and trotted inside the house, her brief skirt flipping up in back to reveal her cute panty bottom. I returned to watching the skipping girls, unaware that I was unconsciously studying their techniques and the way the young girls interacted. My subconscious was trying to imprint the memories of normal little-girl behaviour so I could learn to better fit in. I glanced over when Eliza came shuffling back out, looking dispirited. She stepped over to the side of the playpen with a sad little smile. "I'm sorry, Baby Candy," she muttered. "Your Aunty June and Mummy said the playpen was only for dirty little girls who can't stop wetting their pants. They said I'm not allowed to play in there with you." I noisily sucked my dum-dums but didn't reply. I didn't really care anyway. I watched as Eliza trudged down the porch steps and onto the lawn. She trotted over towards the other girls, her blonde pigtails flopping attractively, then paused and turned back towards me. She approached the edge of the veranda with an expression on her face that told me she'd just had a brilliant idea. "I know!" Eliza quietly exclaimed. "If I want to get in the playpen and play babies with you, I have to be a dirty little girl too!" She squatted down, grinning madly at me. I instinctively shifted onto my knees and crawled over to the side of the playpen closest to the edge of the veranda. I wanted to see what she was doing, wondering what she intended? Eliza was crouching down on the front lawn facing me with her little feet spread wide, staring intently at her groin. She held her little denim skirt up and away at the front so I could see the crotch of her pretty lavender panties. She took a deep breath and held it, her cheeks puffing out and turning red. She screwed up her mouth, frowning in concentration. My eyebrows climbed up my forehead when I realised what she was doing. A tiny dark wet spot appeared on the front of her panties, spreading rapidly down between her legs. The light cotton fabric was soon overwhelmed and a golden stream of urine bubbled through her panty gusset, gushing from between the little girl's legs with an audible 'hiss.' I clutched the bars in my fists and felt my own bladder spasm in sympathy with the naughty little girl wetting her pants right in front of me. A soothing warm stream surged out of my limp clittie, splashing around me and soaking into the thick terrycloth. I let go of the bars with my right hand and clutched the familiar comforting warmth against my genitals. I felt myself sinking deeper and deeper into the world of diapered infancy. We were just two naughty little toddler girls helplessly wetting ourselves. We couldn't help it. "Ga-ga goo-goo," I mumbled quietly around the slippery pink guard of my dum-dums as I freely drenched my nappy. "Ga-ga goo-goo ga-ga goo!" A couple of girls noticed what Eliza was doing. Emily yelled, "Julia! Look at your kid sister!" Bella snorted in derision. "Is she pissing her pants?" "Eliza!" Julia screamed, throwing the rope handle aside and running to her little sister. Eliza ignored the pandemonium around her, focused on piddling her panties like a naughty little girl. The was a wet patch the size of my palm on her panties now, although her golden stream disappeared into the grass without a trace. Julia grabbed Eliza's arm and roughly yanked her to her feet. "What are you doing?" The horrified girl demanded. Julia shook Eliza violently for a second or two. "You dummy! Mummy will be furious with you!" The cheeky four-year-old looked like she was having second thoughts. "I couldn't help it," she wailed. "It was an accident!" I remembered using the very same childish excuse myself only yesterday. Julia pushed her sister away in contempt and ran inside the house, yelling, "I'm telling Mummy!" Eliza awkwardly shuffled inside after her big sister, her thighs spread wide to reduce the leakage, gnawing her bottom lip anxiously. I ignored the jeering bigger girls in the yard and crawled to the side of my playpen closest to the front door, straining to hear anything from inside. I wondered how much trouble Eliza was going to be in? I could hear Julia running and yelling all the way to the kitchen, the little tattle-tale. Things went quiet for a few moments, then I heard Aunty Mandy raise her booming voice. I couldn't make out what she said, but she sounded cranky. I clearly heard the sound of a hard hand smack a naughty wet little bottom and Eliza's corresponding wail of remorse. I reached back and rubbed my warm wet bottom in sympathy for the kind-hearted little girl. Julia trotted out looking extremely pleased with herself, and she tossed me a smug smirk before she bounded down the steps to join her friends, yelling instructions as usual. I knelt there pressing my face between the bars, trying to hear what was going on inside. I heard Aunty Mandy and Aunty June chatting as they walked upstairs with Eliza still sobbing quietly. I expected they wanted to change her wet pants, and wondered if Eliza would be borrowing my big-girl panties for a change? I couldn't prevent the thrill of arousal I felt at the odd thought. Another girl wearing my panties! When I couldn't hear anything except the murmur of teenage girls' voices from the kitchen for several minutes, I eventually grew bored. I turned away and crawled back to the front of the playpen to watch the playing girls in the yard. Another two girls had joined the skipping group while I'd been distracted. I didn't recognise them, and fortunately the new arrivals didn't pay much attention to me. The little rhyme they sang as they took turns skipping was very catchy, and I found myself singing along with them in my head. The watching girls were clapping their hands in time, too. I began softly clapping along with them, sucking my dummy-teat at the same time. I tried to keep it quiet. I didn't want the bigger girls to notice me. I was startled when Aunty June strode out onto the veranda on her elegant click-clacking high heels. Her dark brown hair was piled up on top of her head in a tight bun, the loose strands held in place with dozens of bobby pins. She still wore her fitted navy skirt but she'd removed her jacket to reveal her hourglass figure, and she was wearing a silky white chemise with spaghetti straps over her suntanned shoulders. Her top was sheer enough that I could see the outline of her white lace brassiere underneath, and more than a hint of her deep fleshy cleavage. Aunty June demurely pressed her plump womanly thighs together beneath her prim navy skirt as she crouched down beside my playpen. She threw open the bolt and raised the hinged gate, standing at the same time. I looked up at her expectantly, waiting for her to order me to crawl out. Instead Aunty Mandy walked out cradling her youngest over one hip. Eliza looked like she'd been crying, and although her eyes were dry now, she still looked miserable. I thought I recognised the pink guard of the dummy bobbing in her mouth. It was the first one Aunty Melody gave me at Kate's birthday party - a spare pacifier the attractive young mother kept in her daughter Cindy's change bag. From the way Eliza was earnestly sucking my spare dum-dums, it looked like it had found a new home. Eliza was wearing one of my frilly bibbies, too, and the light plastic dummy chain was attached to the lacy bib collar with the teddy bear clip. Her bib had lavender lace frills around the collar and outside edges, and there was purple writing embroidered across the white cotton front. I read the embarrassing words, 'Piddle Pants Baby,' and poked out my bottom lip in sympathy for the poor child. Then I remembered - she was too little to read. She probably didn't even know what it said. Aunty Mandy had removed her daughter's skirt and apart from the bibbie, Eliza was wearing only her purple t-shirt and a nappy - one of her old ones, I suspected. She wore pink plastic panties over the top, just like me. She looked even more babyish than me. I was still wearing my pink gingham frock, which was at least barely long enough to cover my baby panties. Aunty Mandy lowered her daughter to the floorboards, turning Eliza so she was on her hands and knees facing the open gate. "Go on," Mandy roughly commanded. "Crawl in there where you belong, you naughty little girl." She gave her daughter's bobbing nappy bottom a hefty wallop to send her on her way. Despite her earlier eagerness to join me in the playpen and play babies, Eliza didn't look too happy now. The girls in the front yard ceased their play to watch the humbled little girl crawl inside the playpen to join her big baby friend. Aunty June closed the gate and bolted it behind her, then stood dusting off her hands. "That should teach her," she muttered to her taller friend. "And keep her out of trouble." Mandy nodded grimly in agreement before the women returned inside the house. I let go of the bars and flopped back down on my puffy wet bottom to stare at the big diapered toddler kneeling beside me. She likewise swivelled around to sit on her bum facing me, her little legs splayed helplessly wide by the fluffy mass of terrycloth between her thighs. Her dummy bobbed up and down in her mouth, the pink plastic guard gently nudging her snub nose up and down as she busily sucked. She straightened her frilly bibbie across her breast, and I'm sure she was completely ignorant of the tell-tale legend it bore. I likewise busily sucked on my dummy-teat, silently regarding her for a minute. I felt compelled to break the silence, but didn't know what to say. The best I could manage was, "Ga-ga goo?" Eliza's big brown eyes regarded me warily over the bobbing pink plastic guard of her dum-dums for a few more moments, then I could see she was smiling. "Goo-goo ga-ga goo-goo goo!" She babbled in reply. Her cheeky smile grew so wide it escaped the wide plastic guard. Even her eyes were smiling. "Goo-goo ga?" She started giggling and the sound was so infectious, I started laughing. I don't know why. It seemed my emotions were on a roller coaster today, and in seconds we were lying on our backs on the soft padded floor of the playpen laughing and giggling hysterically. Eliza grabbed my empty bottle and threw it over the top rail onto the grass, which produced a fresh bout of hysterics. It was all so silly. We settled down after a few minutes and managed to sit up. Eliza picked up my Princess Barbie and asked in baby-talk, "Can me play wif your Barbies?" "Yeth," I shyly mumbled in reply. I nodded and picked up the brunette doll, and we began undressing them. Eliza and I didn't say much as we changed our dollies' clothes and shoes. We just glanced at each other and giggled again, occasionally making babyish babbling sounds to attract the other's attention. Jill and Annette walked out a short time later and stepped over beside the playpen to look down at us. Eliza stared up blankly at them, then babbled childishly, "Ga-ga goo-goo ga!" I sloppily echoed her sentiment around the slippery wet guard of my dum- dums. "Ma-ma ga-ga doo-doo ba!" I burbled wetly. Spit bubbles formed in the corners of my mouth and popped wetly. The girls just laughed and shook their heads in derision. "What a pair of babies," was Jill's dismissive comment. Annette looked at us with a thoughtful expression. "When I was about eight or nine, I used to love dressing up my little brother in a diaper and one of my old frocks. He was about four or five at the time." My ears perked up at that piece of information and my clittie instantly grew hard. Jill giggled and asked, "Didn't he object?" "Not really," the busty brunette replied with a shake of her curls. "I loved playing 'Mummies and Babies' with him. He looked really cute dressed as a big baby girl." I discretely reached under my gingham frock and clutched my warm wet nappy against my straining erection, covering my impulsive actions with my Barbie doll. "But not as cute as our Baby Candy, I'll bet?" Jill insisted. "No way!" Annette replied, and she reached over the top rail to gently pinch my blushing pink cheek. "She's the most beautiful baby girl I've ever seen!" They both sniggered again before she and Jill turned away and walked off. Eliza and I simply looked at each other and burst into a fit of giggles once more. Although I was saddened to see buxom Annette go, I couldn't say the same of the tall blonde beauty. There was something about Jill's cruel sapphire eyes and heartless manner that frightened me. I was glad to see the back of her - especially her peachy bottom beneath her brief twitching blue denim skirt. Brenda wandered out as the shadows were lengthening under the trees. The scene was lit by the golden glow of the slowly setting sun. She smiled when she heard Eliza and I carrying on like silly babies. "Aww! Listen to the little babies babbling," she cooed, her voice dripping with contempt. I fell silent when the buxom blonde crouched down and opened the hinged gate. "Come on girls," Brenda urged us. "It's dinner time. Crawl out and we'll get you ready for din-dins." I crawled out ahead of Eliza and headed for the front door on my hands and knees. Brenda yelled into the yard, "Julia? Bring your sister inside in a few minutes and wash your hands for dinner. Okay?" The chunky brunette nodded. "We'll just finish this go," Julia replied, and Kate nodded hopefully. "Give us ten minutes?" "Okay," Brenda replied, and she returned her attention to the big babies. After she crawled out of the playpen, Eliza naturally attempted to rise. Brenda's firm hand on her back kept the little girl on all fours. When she looked up in confusion Brenda informed her, "Little girls who piddle their pants are nothing but big babies, and babies have to crawl in this house - unless a grown-up is holding their hands." She pointed at my bobbing plastic-sheathed bottom disappearing down the hallway. "Off you go, Baby Eliza," Brenda sternly insisted, pointing after me crawling inside the house. With a frown of annoyance Eliza headed after me on her hands and knees, her dum-dums clenched between her teeth - just like me. Suddenly playing babies wasn't so much fun. I crawled into the kitchen where Aunty June and Aunty Mandy were waiting for us. "Aha! Here come the little babies," Aunty June cried in sarcastic delight. Alison giggled at my infantile progress towards the highchair. Brenda herded Eliza crawling into the kitchen behind me and asked her mother, "Which baby girl do we put in the highchair first?" "I don't wanna sit in the highchair," Eliza sniffled. The grown-ups ignored her whimpered protestation. "It depends," replied Aunty June. "Which baby need changing the most?" Aunty Mandy stepped over beside her youngest in her flat Indian sandals and reached inside the waistband of her daughter's packed pink baby panties. She pulled away the back of Eliza's pilchers and reached down inside, feeling the bulky cloth bunched between the little girl's helplessly-splayed thighs. "My baby is still dry," Mandy reported, removing her hand. She let the tight elastic waistband snap back against the little girl's back before standing upright, and I saw Eliza grimace around the wide pink guard of her dummy. Aunty June likewise stepped over in front of me. "Kneel up, Baby Candy," she ordered. I obeyed, rising on my knees to face her, my eyes level with her crotch. "Hold your dress up out of the way like a good little girl." I raised the lace-edged hem of my pink gingham frock over my stained bibbie, and Aunty leaned down and pulled aside the waistband of my baby panties. "Pee-yew!" She cried, wrinkling her nose in disgust and letting the waistband snap back against my tummy. It didn't really hurt, but it was very embarrassing. "I don't need to feel that nappy to know it's wet. I can smell your stinky pee-pee from here, you bad baby girl!" Aunty June shook her head in despair. "What have you got to say for yourself, little girl?" I let my dress hem drop and stared at Aunty June blankly. What did she expect? I was a baby. A big, nappy-wetting, panty-pooping baby. Babies were always wet or dirty. They had no choice. They couldn't control it. I couldn't control it. I'm just a baby. In that frame of mind I sloppily replied, "Bub-bub bub-bub bub-bub ba!" Brenda and Alison burst into a fresh fit of giggles. I gazed up at my frowning Aunty June with wide innocent eyes and drooled copiously around the guard of my dummy, feeling the warm saliva trickle down my chin. Aunty Mandy grimaced in disgust. "What a dribble-puss!" Eliza turned her face away from me, as if she didn't want to be associated with the drooling, diaper-wetting big baby. Aunty June shook her head in disappointment and pointed back to the hallway. "Off you go," she sternly commanded. "Crawl upstairs and I'll change you into a clean nappy, you silly baby." I dropped on all fours and obediently crawled back into the hallway and towards the staircase, drooling and babbling like a real baby. "Put Eliza in the highchair and feed her while I change my wet baby," she suggested to Aunty Mandy. As I crawled up the stairs I heard Eliza squealing objections and Aunty Mandy's deep booming voice scolding her to sit still and behave. By the time I reached the change table Aunty June entered the Nursery, and she walked over and scooped me off my hands and knees. She sat me on the edge of the padded table and removed my pink sneakers first, then pushed me onto my back. She ripped my baby panties down and off, snorting with annoyance when she saw they glistened with urine inside. She didn't bother scolding me when she unpinned my drenched diapers and dumped them in the nappy bucket. She shook her head and clucked her tongue in irritation several times, but didn't say a word. Aunty June wiped me down front and back, making sure to scrub away every trace of urine-stained powder. She didn't bother giving me any instructions either. She simply rolled and pushed my limp body into the positions required to wipe and powder my bottom, and slid some clean nappies underneath me. She powdered my front and briskly rubbed it in, but this time my shrivelled clittie didn't react at all. In moments the fluffy nappies were pinned tightly around my loins. Aunty drew the same pink baby panties up my legs, and I grimaced at the clammy feel of the damp leg elastics against my sensitive inner thighs as she tucked them in. When she snapped the tight waistband against my powdery tummy, I caught a whiff of my stale urine and I recalled Aunty June's heartless advice to Mandy. She said it was appropriate that an older child who still needs to wear diapers should smell like a baby, even when she's just been freshly changed. With the sweet perfume of baby powder filling the air and a hint of stale urine wafting up to my nostrils, I knew I smelled like a real baby. Aunty didn't bother replacing my shoes and I crawled out to the staircase in my stockinged feet. As I was bumping my way downstairs on my puffy bot-bot, Julia and Kate came running inside. When the sisters saw me clumsily descending like a hapless toddler they slowed in the hallway, pausing at the foot of the staircase to watch me. I tried to ignore their solemn expressions and their wide staring eyes, and when I reached the bottom I dropped to my hands and knees and crawled towards the kitchen. That semed to break the spell and the girls ran past me, giggling in derision. Aunty June followed me downstairs after washing her hands in the bathroom, and she gave me a hefty wallop across the bum to hurry me along as she strode past me in the hallway. Even though her broad palm was noisy on my puffy plastic panties, I barely felt a thing. As I approached the doorway to the kitchen I heard Eliza's muffled whimpers. "I don't wanna be a baby anymore," she pleaded. I could tell from the quaver in her voice that she'd been crying. "I don't wanna, Mummy." "You should have thought of that before you wet your pants," Aunty Mandy scolded her in her deep booming voice. "Now open up, Baby Eliza. You're going to eat every scrap of this baby food before I let you out of that highchair." "No Mummy! Noo - gmph!" The little girl's feeble protest was abruptly cut off and a thrill of fear shot through me. To be continued in chapter 17, 'Girls on Film.' Please keep posting your responses here. I really crave some feedback, and I want to know what you think. Hugs from Baby Jennie in Australia