Return To The Nursery Chap. 5 free porn video

Dear frillibabi, Jeannie, latexslut and sissytammyjean, thank you for hose encouraging comments. And Lost Soul - if you don't like this story, STOP READING IT! I noticed you left a lot of derogatory comments on my last few postings of 'Baby Candy' too. If you don't like my writing, why do you keep reading? And if you must keep reading, stop posting your nasty comments please. Baby Jennie Chapter 5. Punishment Time. Mummy walked Daphne back into the lounge, holding her hand and leading her like an unsteady toddler. Sheila and the children had wandered out to the garden to play, leaving Simon sitting there reading the newspaper. Fortunately there was no repeat of David's panic attack, but he felt incredibly awkward having to face his big butch brother-in-law after what he'd just done. Jane motioned him to stand on a Persian rug in front of the sofa, and ordered, "Sit down there, Baby Daphne, and play with your dolly." Jane handed his doll Nancy to him, and turned away. "I'm going to help Nanna in the kitchen." As David meekly sat down at Simon's feet clutching Nancy to his bosom, his dress rode up, his frothy chiffon petticoats fluffing up around his waist and displaying the lace frills around the leg bands of his pink baby panties, His thighs involuntarily spread wide apart, like he was showing off to Simon the wide-stretched nappy-packed gusset of his shiny plastic panties. His smooth-shaven legs were only partially concealed by his white lacy baby socks and flared petties. What do you say to your ultra-masculine brother-in-law when you are dressed as a little baby girl and recently had your wet and dirty nappy changed? One you noisily soiled right there in this very room, in front of him? You are cuddling an infant dolly; a bobbing baby's dummy is firmly lodged in the middle of your face. Shiny streams of dribble run down your chin to stain your glistening wet, lace-edged bib. You are meant only to speak in a sissy-baby voice about baby girl things. But will Simon - a successful heterosexual barrister, the next captain of the golf club where you used to play - really want to hear you babble on about your dolly Nancy's wet nappies, or what you read in Bunty magazine yesterday? Can you even manage to talk at all? What made the situation even worse, was David's strong heterosexual leanings. Despite wanting to be a sissy baby girl, he wasn't gay. Being exposed to other women as a dominated sissy baby was in part a sexual act, despite - or was it because of - the ensuing humiliation. Being dressed like this in front of a man - especially an alpha-male like Simon - was an agony of acute embarrassment and shame for David. There would be no sexual thrill, now or later. It was wrong - horribly wrong - to be sitting here dressed like this. There was one nagging worry at the forefront of David's mind, one major question he desperately needed answered. What did the people at work and his friends know about him? Had Jane discussed his sissy-baby fetish with her friends, or at the company where he used to work? What did his acquaintances know at the golf club? Did they know he lived full-time as a diapered baby girl these days? Did they know his sexy successful wife was fucking another man? David blushed at the thought. He dreaded the answers; but it was part of a delusion he fought to maintain; that all this was just some temporary game. Somehow he would return to some form of his normal life, and his shameful secret would remain just that; a secret ! Of course he wasn't allowed to discuss such things, ask those questions of Mummy, or even admit that he thought those thoughts. David knew the punishment would be severe. Simon smiled patronisingly at the diapered sissy sitting splay-legged on the floor, which only made David feel worse. With a start, he realised his dummy teat was still buried in his mouth. He whipped it out, looking awkward and shamefaced as he tried to conceal the oversized toddler soother in the shimmering folds of his satin dress. The amber rubber teat was sloppy with his drool and the pink satin ribbon attached to his pocket was pulled taut. Simon broke the ice by commenting, "Well, David! You make quite a pretty little girl! You certainly know how to dress the part, and" - he paused meaningfully "- play the part as well, it seems. I hope you are enjoying yourself? Oh that's right! I suppose I'm meant to call you Daphne, now?" David knew he was meant to use his little-girl lisp to simper back how he loved to be a little 'thithy baby' - but that seemed inconceivable. Quite impossible! Instead he murmured in an almost-normal voice, "Err, sorry. I'm sorry about my accident." As though a simple apology could expunge the fact that he'd wet and soiled himself in front of everybody. Encouraged by his brother-in-law's lack of response and the sound of his own normal voice, David continued more confidently. "Simon, what do other people know about me? You know, at the golf club? What does Jane tell them about me?" Further emboldened, the old sneaky part of David sought to justify his behaviour. It was this flaw in his character which always let him down - his tendency to downplay his mistakes and exaggerate his rather modest achievements. "You know I only dress like this to please Jane, don't you?" he lied, keeping his voice lowered so the women hopefully wouldn't overhear. He hoped Simon didn't notice. "It's just a silly game Jane likes to play, sometimes. You know? I guess I just let her take things too far today." He didn't get any further. Jane suspected he might try to somehow bluff his way out of trouble with Simon. She had quietly loitered in the hallway outside the lounge room and overheard his every word. At first she hardly recognised David's voice. She had become so accustomed to hearing the squeaky lisping voice he normally used every day with her. The very idea that he could pretend that he could stop being a baby girl whenever he felt like it, and to say he was dressing and acting like a sissy-baby merely to please her, enraged her! Jane marched in, grabbed the sissy baby by one ear, and twisted it sharply, making him scream. "Come with me, Baby Daphne!" Ignoring his high-pitched yelps of pain, she hauled him to his feet and out of the room into the hallway. David dropped Nancy in his struggles to keep up and the life-size infant doll tumbled unnoticed to the floor. "Mum! I need you in here!" Jane called to Helen to come into the dining room opposite the lounge. Without letting go of David's tortured lug, she pulled a high-backed dining chair away from the table, sat down with her meaty thighs pressed together, and dragged the moaning sissy across her lap. When Helen hurried into the room, she looked surprised to see her sissified son-in-law squirming across his wife's lap, in a flurry of petticoats and a slithering satin dress that had ridden up to his armpits. Jane angrily scolded her wriggling snivelling sissy. "Oh really? 'You know I only dress like this to please Jane?' Really?" Her voice rose half an octave at the end of each statement; she was so furious. "It's just a silly game she likes to play? Really? You want to know what other people think of you? I bet you do, baby!" She pulled his flapping right arm up behind his back and held his wrist in place with her left hand, then turned to Helen. "Mum, pull her nappy and baby pants down, will you? That's it, down to her ankles. And the disposable, too. Keep them bunched down there so she can't thrash her legs about too much. Now please hand me the hairbrush from the changing bag. Thank you, Mum." David's worst fears were materialising right then and there. Whenever he was spanked, he always ended up crying and squealing for Mummy to stop, promising to be a better baby girl, promising to behave more like a real baby, and accepting any new rules for the future. That was bad enough, but the lounge room was right across the hall from the dining room. The doors were open and Simon would be able to hear the whole degrading performance. "Mum, be ready to hold her head down and keep baby's arms out of my way," Jane ordered. "I promise, this will really hurt!" To David she snapped, "Bad baby! Bad baby girl! You're a wicked little liar, Baby Daphne! Naughty baby!" Each admonishment was accompanied by a crisp smack with the heavy wooden brush. Jane used all the force she could muster, and she was thrilled to see David's pale globes twitch and jump with each blow, and he squealed like a penitent little girl. "You have some hard lessons to learn, little girl!" Nine more savage smacks, nine more broken squeals. David wrenched his right arm free and his hand danced uselessly behind his bottom, trying to ward off the blows. Helen snatched his flailing wrist and forced it up behind his back again, almost dislocating his shoulder. His sharp intakes of breath became little cries of distress and whimpers of pain. Helen held him still and moved closer, and she pinned his head between her meaty thighs, grinning to her daughter as she did so. David, thinking of Simon listening from across the corridor, tried to be brave; He tried not to cry out; not to give in - but each smack stung and seared his bottom terribly. He wouldn't be able to remain quiet for many more. Moreover, he knew that Jane would keep punishing him until he cried and screamed and begged her to stop. Silent endurance never worked with Mummy. "You are a baby girl! What are you?" With each consecutive blow David cried a little louder. The pain was too much, it had to stop. "Mummy pweathe!" he finally shrieked. "No more? Mummy pweathe, I thowwy Mummy!" As her husband conceded defeat and started to cry real tears, Jane imagined Jake thrusting manfully inside her moistening love nest. Each smack was linked to an imagined push right inside her kitten, and she clenched her stocking-clad thighs tightly together to give each blow maximum force. She could feel the dampness increasing down there. "Oh Mummy! I'm a baby girl," Daphne finally cried. 'You're a BAD baby girl! Say it!" WHACK! "I'm a bad baby girl!' Daphne snivelled. "Louder! Louder!" She reinforced the command with two harder smacks. Then Jane needed to pause to gather her strength - and savour the sexy thoughts of Jake filling her with his massive manhood. In the lounge room Simon sat up and gave up trying to read the paper. The sado-masochistic performance in the nearby dining room had captured his attention, and he was getting turned-on! He had to reach down and rearrange the front of his trousers to give his swelling member room to expand, as he listened in fascination to David's high-pitched wailed confession. Daphne shrieked, "Owie! Oh Mummy! Mummy, I'm a bad baby girl! I thowwy, Mummy! Mummy, I'm a wicked bad baby girl!" "Try again!" Two more harsh blows brought loud shrieks from the struggling head trapped between Helen's powerful thighs. She merely clenched her leg tighter, trapping his skull in a warm fleshy vise. "I thowwy Mummy!" he wailed. "I thowwy! Mummy, I want to be your 'ickle thithy baby girl!" "Louder!" SMACK! "Owie! Pweathe Mummy," Daphne shrieked, "I want to be your 'ickle thithy baby girl forever!" Surely that was loud enough! Simon across the hallway could hear every word, and despite his arousal, he was starting to worry that an actual assault was taking place in his mother-in-law's home. Jane put down the brush and stroked the bright red bottom cheeks shivering in front of her. She could hear David sobbing pitifully; he was so weak and vulnerable. "What do you need to do to be a good baby girl?" she demanded. Before he could reply she parroted, "You walk like a baby, talk like a sissy baby, eat like a baby, look like a baby girl, and behave like a baby girl. Don't you, Daphne? All the time, and not just when you feel like it. Right?" "Yeth Mummy, thowwy Mummy," he penitently sobbed. Jane picked up the hairbrush again and stretched her strong right arm in readiness. "Promise Mummy." The next two spanks were carefully placed on the brightest red part of that quivering bottom. He squealed with each blow. "Walk?" SMACK! "Waah! Oh Mummy! I pwomithe to walk like a baby girl," he sobbed. "Talk?" SMACK! "Owiee! Mummy! I pwomithe to talk like a thithy baby girl." "Eat?" SMACK! "Aiee! Mummeee! I pwomithe to eat like a baby girl." "Look?" SMACK! "Waah! Waaah! I pwomithe to look like a baby girl." Each smack landed with full force in exactly the same spot. Each blow produced a yelping pleading cry of 'Mummy!' before the required promise was given. "Behave?" SMACK! Jane rounded off with a savage spank on each syllable. David half-shouted the final promise, anything to get her to stop, no thought of the future, no thought of Simon listening. A crying begging promise to convince Mummy to stop beating him. "I pwomithee to behave like a widdle baba girl all the time!" he wailed, "Weally-twuly, Mummy! I pwomithe to be a good baba girl forever! Oh Mummy, no more! Pweathe Mummy, pweathe thtop?" Jane dropped the heavy brush with a grunt of satisfaction. She flexed her thighs and rubbed them toghether, thinking of Jake's massive cock once again. God he was good in bed! David flopped across her lap in a welter of hurt and shame, but suddenly and without any warning, perhaps because Jane clenched her thighs, he realised he was going to spurt. The soft slinky material of her skirt, unnoticed until a second ago, seemed unbearably sensual against his stiffening pee-pee. Panic at what was inevitable rapidly engulfed him. "Oh no! Mummy, quick! Thpurtieth!" It was only two short shuddering spasms, and he obtained no real pleasure from his involuntary release. The first Jane realised something untoward had happened was when she felt something wet seeping through the flimsy material of her skirt, dampening her bare inner thighs above the lacy tops of her silk stockings. Jane thrust him off her lap with a cry of disgust. "Oh no, Daphne! You didn't! Did you? Oh hell!" He rolled down her long legs to land on the floor in a crumpled heap, staring incredulously at the dark wet stain on her navy skirt. "You dirty, dirty little girl!" Jane roared, pulling the wet patch away from her skin in revulsion. Helen realised what had happened, and for once she was worried for David. That was some beating! She didn't think the sissy baby could take any more. She guessed the ejaculation was involuntary on his part. Jane shouted at the wailing child, "You are disgusting!" Helen placed a restraining hand on her daughter's forearm and intervened. "I don't think Baby Daphne meant to do it." She paused and gazed down in contempt at the bawling sissy on the floor. "I'm sure your little sissy baby just had another premature ejaculation! Remember, she's a premmie!" The women looked at each other and sniggered. Jane's anger evaporated as she realised this was yet another excuse to embarrass David during the remainder of their visit. "I guess you're right, Mum! That's where she normally cums - on my thighs! And that was only when she used her staying power and didn't spurt in my hand or on the sheets! Can you fetch me a damp washcloth please?" David was still crying on the floor, curled in the foetal position, dreading another beating and rubbing his scalding-hot bumcheeks to soothe the pain. Jane intended driving home her superiority over the snivelling cry-baby. Ordering him to stand, she ripped away the nappy and plastic panties from around his ankles. His peenie was as small and shrivelled as she had ever seen it, glistening with the sticky remnants of his involuntary ejaculation. His face was bright red and tears of hurt and shame ran down his cheeks; his nose was running like a tap. He fumbled for his dummy and popped it in his mouth. He started to suck on the teat and realised he had a snotty upper lip. He carelessly wiped his runny nose with the back of his hand like a small child. In so doing, he smeared streamers of shiny snot across his flushed face. Jane sniggered and shook her head in disgust at his baby ways. "You silly cry-baby! Tsk-tsk-tsk!" She wiped his snotty nose with his damp bib. "Now let's start afresh, little girl. You will go and present yourself to Simon right now, Baby Daphne, and apologise for trying to act like a grown-up. Promise him that you will be on your best sissy-baby behaviour for the rest of the day, especially for him. Remember your promises to Mummy? Walk, talk, look, eat and behave? You tell that to Simon, too." Jane knew this more than anything would destroy whatever remnant remained of David's shattered pride, but she insisted. David was still reeling in shock from his spanking. The fact that he had cum again and yet he still had to be a baby girl in front of the family, wasn't really sinking in. His tear-filled eyes pleaded with Jane for some sympathy, but he knew there was none. She was the Mummy. He was the baby. He had to do exactly as he was told. Mummy added, "You are also going to tell Simon you are a sissy baby because you chose to be one, and that you love to wear and use your nappies like a baby. And what's more - you begged me to take away your potty-privileges! Remember?" He remembered that fateful Thursday when it all began. Jane had somehow learned about his dirty little secret, and she didn't seem to mind! In fact, she'd even offered to play the role of his dominant Mummy! That made David as excited as he had ever been in his whole life! At her suggestion, he blissfully extended their unbelievable fantasy weekend to a spontaneous week's holiday, with him dressed as her baby girl the whole time. Then one week became two weeks, two weeks became four, and somewhere along the line, he had become trapped in his submissive infantile role. He had even begged Jane to take away his potty privileges, and he barely noticed when she replied, "Okay, sweetie - but Mummy will decide when they will be restored." Understand?" He'd eagerly nodded agreement, assuming that would be on the Monday morning after their weekend of erotic fantasy role-playing. Then he assumed it would be the next Monday, or the one following that. Some assumption! Now on the first Sunday morning of each month, they went through a little ritual. Baby Daphne would have to waddle into the room where Jane was sitting and curtsey, and then politely ask in her best sissy-baby voice; "Mummy? Pweathe, pweathe can I be potty-twained thith month? Pweathe Mummy?" Daphne blushed at the unspoken implications of her humble request. Jane would smile down indulgently at her hopeful sissy and reply something like; "Oh you silly little darling, Daphne! You don't want that! I know - and you know all too well - you love being Mummy's diapered sissy baby. Anyway, you are nowhere near ready for potty- training yet, you silly girl! You know how much further we have to go with your baby-training!" She would urge him to climb onto her lap and she would cuddle him and comfort the disappointed child. Of course her caresses and her maternal affection weakened his resolve, and he ignored the implied threat of ever more baby humiliation and public exposure. The second time, he tried to press the point. Jane listened patiently to his high-pitched pleading for about five minutes or so, frowning but not saying a word. When he eventually stopped talking to take a breath, Mummy simply replied, "No Daphne." She gently placed a finger over his pouting lips, pressing the dummy teat in place to stifle any further debate. "Mummy says no." Last month he asked more out of a sense of duty, without any real expectation she would change her mind. Jane had again replied, "No Daphne," but then added in a firmer tone, "Let's not discuss it any more. You are nowhere near ready to grow up and learn to use the potty like a big girl. And my sweetie-pie, I think you really know that." He was brought back to the present with a bang when Jane ordered, "Now scoot in there right now and apologise to Simon, dressed exactly as you are! Go on, Baby Daphne!" Unthinkingly he toddled across the hall into the lounge, naked from the waist down. His face was still bright red and tear-stained, his nose ran with snot, his manhood was reduced to a shrivelled peanut glistening wetly under his too-short baby dress and frothy petticoats. He was still clutching his fiery red bottom as he tried to rehearse what he had to say. Simon was still sitting on the lounge, but Sheila had wandered in from the garden to join him - attracted by the sounds of a wailing big baby. She noticed the tenting front of her husband's trousers, and felt a matching surge of arousal. He gave her a lascivious smile and crooked a finger at her. She stepped over to the lounge and stood slightly in front of Simon with a secretive smile, turning her back on him to help conceal his burgeoning manhood from the others. In a voice pitched so only she could hear, Simon told Sheila, "Tonight when we get home - after you put the girls to bed - I want you to put on your school uniform for me." The tall blonde sighed in excitement and nodded, whispering, "Yes sir." Simon placed one hand on the back of her thigh and caressed his wife's smooth shapely leg, murmuring, "Good girl." Out of sight of the others, he slid his hand up under her very short skirt, possessively trailing his fingers across the silken seat of her thick satin panties. When Sheila reacted by slightly parting her legs and discretely poking out her curvaceous bottom at him, he caressed her plump round buttocks and boldly ran the tip of one finger down along her crack and between her thighs. He softly stroked the silky gusset of her panties, pressing gently upwards and applying slight pressure to his excited wife's swelling labia. Sheila moaned quietly in response and subtly lowered her hips a fraction of an inch to increase the delicious sensations. "Oh my God! What on earth?" Sheila gasped and straightened her knees when she saw the surreal sight of David in his so-smart baby dress - but wearing no panties or nappy - his hairless legs and baby-smooth pubic area exposed for all to see. Sheila tried so hard not to laugh. Her face became contorted and she covered her mouth with one hand, and let out a series of squeaky muffled grunts. In the end she couldn't contain herself, and she blurted around her laughter; "Oh my God! Jane, his thing is so tiny! Oh I'm sorry, David - Daphne - but I can't help laughing!" She stepped forward, sighing with regret when she moved away from the delightful distraction of her husband's discrete caresses. Jane loomed alongside her cowering husband and bent down to examine his limp little peanut. She disdainfully lifted the shrivelled tip with her forefinger and turned to face their audience. "Well, it is rather small, Sheila - and it was never very satisfying. That's why Baby Daphne calls it her 'clittie!' Anyway Simon, my wicked little Daphne here has an apology to make to you." There was a long pregnant pause. In a quavering high-pitched sissy voice Daphne squeaked, "Thimon, I'm thowwy I told you a widdle fib. Mummy keeps me in nappieth 'coth I weally need them." "Go on! Tell him what you asked me to do." Jane intended to ram home the lessons learned in the dining room. David glanced over his shoulder and looked desperately at his beautiful Mummy, but saw no softening in her stern expression. He turned to face the happily married couple again. "I asked Mummy to take away my potty-pwivilegeth," he haltingly explained,..."coth I want to wear and uthe nappieth like a weal baby all the time." Sheila exclaimed in mock-disbelief, "You what? Oh my God! You asked to be kept in nappies and use them for everything? You wanted to be a baby that badly? That is truly weird!" Simon hunched forward on the lounge and reached forward to lovingly pat his wife's big round bottom one last time as he muttered, "It takes all sorts, honey! We have to accept that this is the real David - or should I say, the real Daphne. We need to get used to the idea we have another little girl in the family. If we treat him like the baby girl he seems he wants to be, I'm sure it will be easier for everyone all round. Then our little Daphne won't get caught out trying to act like a grown-up, like she was before - and get punished. He - she - obviously wants it this way." Sheila's bemused smile vanished when she noticed the damp area on the front of Jane's navy silk skirt. "Jane sweetie, what's that on your skirt? What happened?" David had to stand there with his eyes riveted to the carpet and listen to Jane explain that he had another accident after his spanking, and had lost control - like he used to in their marital bed. "Mum said my baby had another premmie! She must have been enjoying herself then!" Jane spitefully added, to Sheila's amused laughter. Jane then turned on her cowering sissy-baby and her expression hardened. "Now then, little Daphne, what are the promises you need to make to Simon and Sheila." She turned to ask the grinning couple, "By the way; do you think Baby Daphne should call you Uncle and Aunty, or Sir and Madam? Or is that too much? What do you think, folks?" Sheila laughed brightly again before replying, "Aunty is fine for me. 'Madam' makes me sound like a whore! What do you think, Simon?" Simon's grin grew wider. "I expect our little sissy masochist here would really like to call me 'Sir.' Why don't you call me Sir when you address me, Daphne - but you may refer to me as Uncle Simon?" David at that moment didn't want to do anything of the sort. Why did he have to call Simon 'Sir'? It wasn't fair! But there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. His burning bottom reminded him of that fact. "Yeth Thir," he muttered at the carpet. Jane interjected from behind him, "That will not do at all, little girl! You know that when you speak to your elders and betters, you have to look them in the eyes and not mutter under your breath. Address Uncle Simon properly, Baby Daphne, and make your promises nicely. Then we'll get that nappy back on you before you make any more nasty messes on Nanna's carpet." Hanging your head in shame is fine, but having to look at the faces of people who are teasing and humiliating you is infinitely worse. Real power transfers between the eyes of the dominant and the submissive. The eyes concede defeat and acknowledge the other's superiority. David stood there in a sullen trance, completely motionless, staring at the carpet and cringing inside. He couldn't raise his head and look at Simon. A sharp slap on his inflamed bottom jerked him out of his reverie and he squealed in shock and pain. With an enormous effort of will, David lifted his trembling chin to look at both Simon and Sheila, who - like good parents - smiled and nodded in encouragement. In a quavering high-pitched sissy voice he lisped, "I pwomithe to be a good baba girl. I pwomithe to walk like a baba, I pwomithe to talk like a baba, I pwomithe to eat like a baba. I pwomithe to behave like a good bubba girl all the time!" He immediately lowered his blurry eyes, as if he couldn't bear to see or hear any response from Simon or Sheila. Tears started to course down his cheeks again as he wondered, 'Why oh why do I let myself be treated like this?' He hated everybody! But he hated himself most of all. "That's better," Jane huffed. "Alright, come with Mummy then, Baby Daphne." Jane gently took him by the hand and led him snivelling from the room. As he shuffled away, his scarlet bottom was on display to the bemused couple. He could hear Sheila giggling behind him as she sat on her husband's lap, arranging herself so his stiff hard cock nestled between her soft plump buttocks. "Ooo Simon," Sheila whispered as she wriggled on his massive erection. "That's 'Sir' to you too, young lady," he sternly corrected her - with a teasing grin. "Yes sir, sorry sir," she apologised with false humility, grinning to herself when she could feel him growing even bigger. "Wait'll I get you home," he muttered darkly. "Ooo! Sir!" Jane took David into the dining room to collect his discarded nappy and plastic panties, and then led the crying sissy back upstairs to the changing table in Nanna's Nursery. He was angry, hurt, and ashamed, and he sulkily mounted the stairs in sullen acceptance of what was happening to him, tears of frustration and shame trickling down his cheeks. Before he could climb up on the padded table, Jane drew him into her embrace and gave him a loving cuddle. Her soft cushiony breasts seemed to envelope his flushed face and he couldn't help collapsing against her lush curves. She stroked the back of his neck, he could feel her voluptuous body pressed against his, and he drank in her perfume as he sniffed back the tears. "Oh my poor baby! You do get yourself into trouble!" Jane tenderly crooned. "Don't you, darling? But Mummy must discipline you to keep you behaving properly. She loves you as her little girl so much, and you want to be her sissy baby so badly! Don't be cross with Mummy when she corrects you, please sweetheart? Mummy is only trying to make her little girl happy." She still held a pampers wipe in one hand and she used it to gently wipe away his tears and clean up his snotty nose. "Aww! Dry those tears, baby girl. If you calm down and behave yourself, Mummy will let you have a little nurse from her titties after I diaper you. Alright?" She whispered loving endearments in his ear, telling him how pretty he was, how smart his new baby frock looked, how she was sure he would be a good baby girl from now on. She knew perfectly how to switch from being a strict dominant taskmistress to a sexy loving Mummy. David was so freaked-out by what had happened downstairs, he didn't relax straight away. Jane helped him lie back on the changing table and started to gently apply cream and powder, all the while assuring him how much she loved him as her baby girl - how she loved it when Daphne behaved like a sweet little girl for Mummy. As she rubbed lotion on his little pee-pee, the familiar scents of baby lotion and Huggies wipes wafted around him, soothing his shattered nerves. How he loved those smells! Jane told him she loved that he was so small and cute down there, "You have a darling little clittie, sweetie - just right for my baby girl! Don't be upset because other people tease you, sweetest. This is how you always wanted to be, in your lovely soft nappies and your pretty baby frocks. You only need a little sissy-clittie to do wetties and spurties in your nappies. You know that now, don't you?" She briefly cupped his shrivelled organ in her hand before she pulled up the disposable between his legs, then she taped it closed. The thick terry nappy forced his thighs apart as she tightly pinned it in place. All the while Jane murmured reassuringly, "So safe, so small, so comfy in your soft nappy. Nothing to worry about. No responsibilities! Just be Mummy's sweet little baby girl and everything will be alright. Nobody will hurt you, precious." Despite his stinging bottom, he drew comfort from such remarks. He knew what Mummy meant; no outsiders would harm him. "Look baby! Lovely wetproof plastic panties to hold your nappy tight, and take away all those big-girl worries about maintaining control. Nothing matters now, does it my sissy darling?" As ever David's anger and frustration melted away under her gentle caresses and hypnotic words. He loved Jane as never before; he desperately wanted to please his strict but loving Mummy. She knew exactly the right thing to say to make him compliant - pink putty in her hands. The constant diapering and the ever- lengthening intervals without his ever having to take responsibility for control of his bodily functions, undermined his self-control and made him more susceptible to Jane's maternal dominance. She knew instinctively how to switch from being strict and ruthless with the hairbrush, to tender and loving with the powder and wipes. The combination assured her complete mastery over her tiny submissive husband. She smiled to herself as she helped the freshly-diapered sissy off the padded change table. Jane realised that far from feeling angry and betrayed - like when she had first learned of his secret sissy side - she was falling in love with her husband all over again. Jane was surprised how much she loved to dominate, humiliate and tease him. It really turned her on! Her affair with Jake was incredibly sexual and an enormous boost to her self- confidence, but she realised without David there to cuckold, sex with Jake wouldn't be anywhere near as satisfying. Jake was a man who liked to take charge, and he always wanted to dominate her in bed. He was handsome and well-endowed, and Jane thought that made some men unbearably arrogant - and dangerous. But her marriage was like a safety-valve. It allowed her to enjoy her dalliances, without the risk of her lover becoming too demanding - or overbearing. Before meeting David, Jane had gone out with a big strong hulk for about ten months. Handsome George had been dominant and forceful in bed, too, and strong enough to pick her up bodily and throw her on the bed when he was horny. At first she enjoyed the way he occasionally manhandled her, but he never seemed interested in her pleasure, her satisfaction. Even though Jane told him she needed to have her breasts stimulated to get her in the mood, he usually didn't bother. "I'm no baby!" he retorted. "I'm not sucking your tits!" He would throw her on the bed, rip down her panties, then complain if her kitten was too dry to allow instant penetration. She shuddered when she remembered the way George would spit on his fingers, using his saliva to moisten the purple head of his thick hard cock, before ramming the whole length of it inside her. One night when he was very drunk, George started pawing her between the legs. Jane refused to have sex with him, complaining, "You're drunk! You stink of rum! Leave me alone!" He took no notice. After he finished with her and left her apartment, Jane considered calling the police and charging him with rape. But she knew she didn't have much of a case. They had been going out for almost a year, and everyone knew they were a couple. A sexually-active couple. When he contacted her to apologise the next day, Jane broke it off with him and told him to "Fuck off and die!" She eventually had to take out a restraining order to make George leave her alone. After that, Jane vowed never to go out with a bossy man who was capable of physically dominating her. Then she met David. Jane sat down at one end of the three-seater lounge in Nanna's Nursery and patted the seat beside her. "Lie down here for Mummy, baby girl." Daphne lay down in the usual feeding position with his head on her lap, facing her, with his legs curled up under him. He sucked harder on his dum-dums as he watched Mummy unbutton her cream silk blouse to reveal her huge meaty breasts encased in the lacy black bra. "Mummy knows what her little girl needs to calm her down," she crooned as she unfastened a catch near the top strap of the bulging left cup. She acted like she was indulging him, but in fact the way he sucked on her sensitive nipples always drove her wild. The bra cup popped open and her massive mammary tumbled free, almost striking his face. He wanted to spit out his dummy and latch on, but he knew that wasn't permitted. "Here darling," she sang, "let Mummy take that." She popped out his sloppy dum-dums and simultaneously steered her stiffening left nipple between his pursed wet lips. "Ahh," she sighed in satisfaction, when he hungrily latched on and started enthusiastically sucking. "That's it. Mmm, good girl! Suck hard, baby. Suck out Mummy's milk," Jane crooned tenderly, speaking softly to him like he was her own precious infant. She let his dummy rest on his tummy, idly playing with the satin ribbon while her baby greedily suckled. Electric waves of delight surged through her body, running from her throbbing nipple to her pounding clit. Jane let him nurse for ten minutes on the left breast, then swapped him to the other side. She shifted in her seat, aware of the growing damp patch in the gusset of her panties. She loved having her nipples sucked really hard, and her sissy baby had been trained to do a perfect job. Helen walked in while Jane was breastfeeding him, and she raised one questioning eyebrow at her daughter. In a quiet voice so as not to disturb the child suckling at her breast, Jane explained, "Daphne was a little upset, so I decided to let her have a little nurse. Sucking Mummy's titties always calms her down." "I'm sure it does," Helen retorted with a wry grimace, asking, "How often have you been breastfeeding Baby Daphne?" "Usually once a day, although sometimes I skip a day." She silently mouthed the words, 'It feels fantastic!', rolling her eyes for emphasis. Aloud she continued, " Sometimes I let her nurse twice in the same day - depending on how horny I am," Jane added with a self-deprecating grin, glancing down fondly at her suckling sissy. She crooned, "My baby girl does such a good job of sucking Mummy's titties!" Helen looked thoughtful and nodded. "When you've finished nursing the baby, after you bring Daphne back downstairs, we need to have a little private chat. Alright, honey?" "Sure thing, Mum," Jane replied, shuddering in arousal. "I'm just about done anyway." Helen left the room as Jane slipped her finger inside the corner of David's mouth, breaking his suction seal. "That's enough for now, baby girl," she whispered to the panting child, then she stuffed his dummy back between his gaping lips. After she finished dressing herself, Jane helped David to his feet. She couldn't believe how horny she felt! She was tempted to order Daphne to her knees again and stick the sissy's head under her skirt. Jane felt certain it would only take a few licks to make her climax. But she doubted whether she could orgasm silently, and she didn't want the rest of the family to come running when they heard her impassioned cries. Jane shrugged her shoulders and like a loving mother, she straightened Daphne's dress and petties one more time, making sure every fold of his nappy was tucked safely inside his plastic panties. While tidying the ribbons in his pigtails, she imagined Jake's hard cock thrusting inside her again. It would have to be tonight! She intended putting Baby Daphne to bed early tonight; straight after dinner. She wanted Jake to take her again and again! Jane forced those sexy thoughts from her mind and concentrated on leading David out of the Nursery. She smiled lovingly at him even as she felt damp down there at the thought of Jake's solid member plunging inside her. His skilful hands seemed to find erogenous zones she never knew existed. "Daphne, why don't you go outside into the garden and play with Jessica and Zo?," Jane suggested. "I need to have a little chat with Nanna. Take your dolly and pram with you, and go and play tea parties or nappy changes or something with the other girls. They've been playing with their Barbie dolls all this while, and I know Jessica would love for you to play with them. I think she feels some sort of affinity with you, baby girl." Jane's beautiful heart-shaped face creased in thought. "If Zo? teases you too much - which she might - I want you to come running into the house crying like a real baby and whining that Zo? was being horrid to you. That will get Sheila sorting her out. She's a little spoilt by her Daddy Simon, I think. Be good and behave like the precious baby girl you know you are deep down, Daphne. It's the best thing for you, really." She led him waddling downstairs in a clean fresh nappy for the second time that morning. David followed his Mummy in a daze. He didn't want to humiliate himself anymore, but he had no option but to behave like a proper baby girl now. Rebellion and resistance were no longer possible. Part of his mind accepted that to simply surrender and play the role of a proper baby girl, was the only course to follow. He half wanted to, anyway, and he knew it would make Jane happy. Also he felt that sometimes he truly was just a helpless little girl, nearly three. The clothes, the thick nappies which caused his wide-legged waddle, his lack of control - all reinforced the feelings of infancy. And he too, had a soft spot for his cousin Jessica. In the hall near the front door he found his doll's pram, and Nancy lying on the floor beside it. Daphne stared longingly at the front door - the pathway to escape - and then glanced down at himself. Even if the door had been unlocked, he couldn't go outside dressed like this. And where would he go? With a sigh of resignation he picked up his infant dolly and popped her inside, then he pushed the pram through the hall into the lounge and out via the conservatory to the rear garden. He pointedly ignored Simon and Sheila's bemused glances, and searched for the girls in the vast garden. The doll's pram had been slightly modified; its wheels and push handle were a little bigger, so if he stooped slightly, he could push it almost like a normal child. Naturally he provided a superb display of his well diapered bottom to the two observers sitting in the lounge, but the horny couple were busy discussing their plans for this evening, and took only a passing interest in the bizarre sight. David was halfway across the lawn, feeling strange and exposed to be wandering around outdoors in his best dress, with his nappies on full display, when Jessica came running up to greet him. "Hi Baby Daphne! We're playing with our Barbie dolls. Do you want to come and play too? Do you have a Barbie doll? Oh, you've got a baby doll. What's your dolly's name? Oh look! She wears nappies like you do! Do you have to change her nappies?" Zo?'s greeting was much cooler, but after some chiding by Jessica, the younger girl agreed not to tease Baby Daphne too much. He was soon playing with the girls on a large rug outside the Wendy house, one Nanna had set up in the garden for her grandchildren. They changed Nancy's nappies together and then Daphne gave her dolly her bottle. Small children rarely concentrate on any one thing for too long, and David found it difficult to adapt to their rapidly shifting focus of attention. He let Jessica take the lead and tried to stop himself from playing with them like an adult - which wasn't too difficult. He was gradually losing touch with that side of himself. Inside the house, Helen took Jane aside to caution her daughter. "Darling, you know if you let Daphne suckle on your breasts on a regular basis, you'll start producing milk?" "Really?" Jane gasped. She cupped her meaty bosoms in her palms and bounced the heavy orbs like she was weighing them. "You know, they do seem to be a little bigger than normal lately - or else my bras are shrinking." "You haven't noticed any damp patches inside the cups when you take off your bras?" Jane shook her head. "No Mum. Although Daphne hand-washes all my lingerie these days, so I might not have noticed." Helen nodded, her full crimson lips pursed in concern. "There's one other facet of breastfeeding Baby Daphne you need to be aware of, honey. It's the best way for a mother and her infant to bond together. I'm worried that you might fall in love with David all over again. Remember our plan." "There is no David now, Mum. There's only my Baby Daphne." Jane idly stroked one of her sensitive nipples through her blouse and bra. "But I don't want to give up nursing her. I love the way she sucks my nipples and squeezes my titties when she nurses from me. It really turns me on!" "I understand, darling," Helen crooned. "I understand. I just want you to be careful." Outside the late morning sunshine was pleasantly warm, and for the first time that day, David started to relax and not worry about being a baby girl. It was good to be out playing in the fresh air, and the children were quite good fun to play with, really. Even Zo? eventually stopped teasing him. He kept his dummy in his mouth and when they asked him questions, he responded in his soft lisping voice without thinking about it. Once the girls pretended that Nancy was naughty, and he squeaked excitedly when Jessica pulled down Nancy's nappy, spanked her bottom and made his dolly have a 'time out.' After a while, they started to pore through at some of Jessica's Barbie books. One was about having friends round for a sleep-over. The cute five-year-old mentioned, "I'm having a sleep-over with my friends Samantha, Harriet, and Kirsty next week. Would you like to come over and play with us, Baby Daphne?" "You mean wike thith?" He patted the bulging crotch of his plastic panties for emphasis. "Ath a baby?" "Of course, silly!" Jessica giggled. "I thought you had to wear nappies all the time, anyway." "You are a baby!" Zo? scornfully declared. "Pweathe Jethicca," Baby Daphne whimpered, "your fweindth will all waff at me, and make me cwy. Anyway, your Mummy might not wet me come." Their odd conversation was interrupted by Sheila and Jane calling out that it was time for lunch. The three little girls scampered inside the house in a flurry of skirts. "Wash hands and faces first," ordered Sheila. They all trotted into the downstairs bathroom, jostling each other for the soap and running water. David barely noticed he was behaving exactly like the other girls, instead of a supervising adult. When they toddled into the dining room with clean hands and faces, he saw the table had been laid for six. There was a big highchair set to one side of the table and for a moment he thought it might be for Zo? - but she ran to one of the ordinary dining chairs, asking which seat was hers. David then recognised the white wooden highchair was his. The one Nanna bought for him, to leave at her place. Someone had brought out from the kitchen, waiting and ready for him. He resignedly waddled over to the juvenile piece of furniture and waited to be helped into the high padded seat. Mummy came over to settle him in and as she tightened the restraining straps, the cunning design of the highchair became apparent. It was different from the pink steel highchair at home. The front of the seat was slightly tilted up and the back rest similarly lay back at an angle. When the pink nylon straps over his shoulders were tightened, the H-strap held him in a slightly reclined position. Not so it looked particularly odd, but it meant he couldn't lean forward to manoeuvre his face was over the wooden tray while eating. He was forced to reach forward and clumsily spoon his food up to his mouth, in such a way that any inevitable spillage would splatter all over his bib. The matching webbing straps that came up between his legs to meet the H- strap were also subtly modified from a traditional baby chair. Rather than a single central crotch strap, there were two slender pink webbing straps attached either side of the seat, with clasps that fixed to the H- strap, thus drawing his thighs to the sides. The footrest was set quite high, so with his knees flexed and forcibly parted, he showed off the wide gusset of his transparent plastic panties to anyone who cared to look. No hiding his condition, no discrete covering, not even the dubious protection of nylon-covered rumba panties. Sheila seated opposite had a great view of his nappy crotch! With a grin, Mummy clipped a huge colourful plastic bib around his neck and smoothed it over his chest. "Try not to make too much of a mess, Baby Daphne," Jane advised him, despite her strict orders to the contrary. Nanna sat at the head of the table, looking every bit the matriarch she was. The other two children sat directly to her right and left, and Simon and Sheila sat beside their girls. Jane took her seat at the foot opposite her mother, completing the picture of a family sitting down to Sunday lunch. It was all so normal - except it was so wrong! Daphne was conscious of his bemused sister-in-law staring at the puffy nappy bulging between his legs. The room looked elegant and the table was loaded with hot food that smelled wonderful. Simon was busy opening a bottle of fine red wine; David saw it was a Haut Medoc 1997. That would be good - but he realised it was silly to even think that he might be allowed a taste. He hadn't been permitted a drink of alcohol since his baby life started. Lunch consisted of roast beef, baked potatoes and steamed vegetables, with lots of gravy. Jane cut up Daphne's food so he could use a spoon. It was one of those oddly-shaped plastic ones which are quite difficult to use without practice. As soon as everyone else started eating, he began trying to feed himself. Because the small spoon had such a long way to travel to his mouth, bits of food and gravy rained onto his bib. The angled handle didn't help his aim and he accidentally smeared his cheek a couple of times. He had to use his fingers to push food onto his spoon, and they quickly became covered in sloppy gravy. The only place to wipe them was his bib - which he did instinctively. Being plastic, it didn't really help. Before the others were halfway through their meals, David looked quite a sight! He felt more and more awkward; the sense of being simply one of the other children evaporated now he was at the lunch table surrounded by adults as well as children. He was the only one seated in a highchair, in diapers and a bib, making a mess everywhere. As the lively conversation around the table progressed without any input from Baby Daphne, he felt Sheila staring at his bulging crotch and grinning at him most of the time - which simply added to his discomfort. As soon as she could attract her Mother's attention, Jessica asked, "Mummy? Can Baby Daphne come to my sleepover at our house, please Mummy?" This polite request elicited much laughter from Jane and Helen, but left Sheila looking a little perplexed. What on earth would she say to her friends when they realised her brother-in-law was an adult baby girl? Would they let their children come and play with Jessica and Zo? while he was there? Sheila glanced to Jane for help. "I'm not sure," she replied evasively. "Where would she sleep?" "Zo?'s old Nursery, of course," was Helen's prompt retort. "The old cot at our place is for a real baby, not like the one upstairs!" Sheila protested. "I don't think Baby Daphne would fit in it. Anyway, I think he goes to bed before you, Jessica. His bed time is...?" "Her bedtime is about half past six," Jane completed for her, "but don't worry about sleeping arrangements. We now have a travel cot for Baby Daphne. It's really sweet!" David cringed at the mention of his travel cot. So far he hadn't needed to use it, but it was a larger size of the normal canvas collapsible baby travel cots - except his was baby pink, with dancing teddy bears all over it. Where Jane had found such a thing, he had no idea. "See Mummy?" Jessica implored. "Aunty Jane has everything she needs; just as though Daphne was a real baby! We can all have fun playing with our dollies together, and after we've had tea, Baby Daphne can go to bed in the Nursery like a proper baby. We older children can stay up and play until our bedtime. Please say yes, Mummy? Please?" Five-year-olds can be pretty persuasive. David wriggled in embarrassment at their exchange. Jessica was clearly thinking of him as being younger than she, and expected him to have an earlier bedtime. Like any small child, he resented being sent to bed before the bigger children. Sheila was still worried about the other parents and having to ask them first, but managed to stall her daughter for the moment. While the children concentrated on eating their food, Sheila started to quiz Jane about her treatment of David, and how she had learned about his 'baby ways.' To be continued in chapter 6. If you are enjoying this story, please post a response here and let me know. I love to know what my readers think. Thanking you in advance, Baby Jennie