Return To The Nursery Chap.7 free porn video

Dear Jeannie, babyswallow, missy, Katie,Amanda, sissy jeannie, Cindy, dickie boy, suejrz, and sissytammyjean - and especially you, Candy Sissiboi - thank you for all those encouraging comments! I really appreciate you taking the time to leave a review. I hope you enjoy the next instalment. Chapter 7. Baby Daphne's First Caning. WHICK! WHICK! The first two blows fell swiftly, fine lines of fire cutting across both buttocks. They were almost bearable. WHICK! The third slash produced a sharp intake of breath. David's knees sagged, his grip on his nappy weakened as a blaze of agony seared his bottom. "Ow! Oww! Ohh!" He moaned in pain and pleaded for mercy. "Mummy pweathe?" He squeaked like a frightened little girl. "Pweathe no? I thowwy!" "Shh, baby! Stick that naughty bottom right out. Do it properly!" Jane commanded, a hint of steel in her strident voice. "You know what to do. Come on! Present for Mummy!" WHICK! The fourth cut was sheer hell! Unable to bear the pain, David let go and half-stood. Then he remembered his choices. With a heave of willpower he bent over again just in time. WHICK! The fifth slice made him scream. "Aiee! Mummy! Mummy! No more, pweathe Mummy!" His body jerked up and down, torn between the desire to maintain his required position, and the searing pain demanding he stand and soothe his welted behind. She could tell he was really crying and he hiccuped between sobs, "Pweathe Mummy! Pweathe Mummy! I thowwy, I thowwy!" In response she shouted, "Present!" His welted cheeks flinched in expectation as Jane took aim for number six. She wanted it to be hard and right across the first five weals. She deliberately measured her aim, raised her arm high, and; WHICK! David screamed and collapsed to the floor in a crumpled heap. He clutched at his blazing rear, red-faced and sobbing, tears streaming down his flushed cheeks. "Get up, you pathetic pansy!" Jane roared. "You are such a useless wimp! I'll rest my arm for a few moments, but we are not finished here - absolutely not! You understand? Get up! Now! You naughty little girl! Assume the position! Now, I said! Put your hands on your nappy. That's it. Poke out that naughty bottom for me. Present that bottom properly. Stick it right out, baby. Better, better. Present for Mummy. That's right. Perfect! Now wait; wait for it..." WHICK! "You big baby! Fancy crying like a sissy cry-baby when Mummy administers an itsy-bitsy caning! Get up, Baby Daphne!" Jane watched him struggle to his feet again and without further instruction, he assumed the required position. She smiled to herself in grim satisfaction, thinking, 'My God! What a wimp!' She suspected David could have fought back and possibly overpowered her at any time, but she felt confident there was no real risk of that - as long as she didn't press the masochistic sissy too far, too fast. When at last David was back in the required position, his whole body shivering in anticipation, she walked off and left the snivelling sissy waiting. Jane wandered into to the en suite, her stiletto heels click-clacking menacingly on the ceramic tiles. She filled a glass of water and took a deep refreshing draught. Punishing sissies was thirsty work! She checked her hair and make-up in the mirror and smiled in satisfaction. Pleased with her own performance so far, Jane strolled back to her victim. She examined her cringing husband, quietly sobbing, bent over almost touching his toes, with his trembling fingers gripping the front of his damp nappy and his pink plastic panties. Six fine crimson lines criss-crossed his bright red bottom. She noticed how hairless he was, and wondered if he had shaved for his visits to those prostitutes. Jane silently rejoiced in the fact that she needed no restraints to keep him in place. The sheer force of her personality and the weakness of his, was sufficient to control him - for the moment. It was delicious! The warm glow she usually experienced when beating other men for Denise suffused Jane's loins - only this was way more intense! Sexually stimulating? Yes! Personally satisfying? Very! She stood right in front of David, so he could see her slightly parted legs and admire her shapely calves and slender ankles, as she calmly sipped water from her glass. Jane felt confident that the most dangerous part of their confrontation had safely passed. She felt sure David - Daphne - would do as he was told from now on. In sugary tones Jane cooed, "I think we are learning some valuable lessons today, Baby Daphne. Are we not? Now," she went on without waiting for his answer, "Mummy has some more questions for her little girl. I think we want to give the right answers this time. Don't we, sweetie? Have you been visiting some tarts in London?" "Yeth Mummy, thometimeth, Mummy. I'm thowwy, Mummy." He sucked back the tears to beg, "Pweathe don't beat me?" "Whom did you last visit? What's her name?" "Amanda." His reply was so swift, Jane knew he couldn't be lying. He didn't dare! She already knew the truth, anyway. Jane had spoken briefly on the phone to Mistress Amanda, a dominatrix who advertised she specialised in satisfying the darker fantasies of adult-babies. The Dom had a reasonably informative website, and she looked quite attractive in the photos, but she hadn't been prepared to engage with Jane in any meaningful way on the phone. Nanny Denise had been a far more open and forthcoming, right from the outset. Jane snarled, "How much did you pay this... Amanda?" She made the name sound like it was something disgusting in her mouth. "$200 an hour." He spat out his dummy and tearfully added, "I used to go for three hours at a time and pay $500." He watched his big baby soother dangle from the end of the white plastic chain, the amber teat twisting and turning as he shivered in fear. "Baby likes a bargain, does she?" Jane's Arctic voice dripped sarcasm. She walked slowly round him and slipped her hand between his shivering thighs again, gathering his limp privates in the palm of her hand. She felt him rise when she caressed that sensitive area, and she gently squeezed his ballsack. Despite his arousal, David moaned in fright. "Oh Mummy pweathe?" "Is this what Amanda did to you?" Jane demanded. "Did she play with your clittie, little girl? Did she beat you?" "She never played with my clittie! N-normally I was her baby girl, but - but - but she did b-b-beat me sometimes," he admitted between sobs, thinking, 'But not like this!' With Amanda, he was only punished if he failed at his potty-training duties. But he always begged to be let off the worst of it. The professional Dom usually relented after a few strokes, or she didn't hit him very hard. He had visited Mistress Amanda mostly for the potty-training sessions she offered. He hoped Jane didn't know anything about that perverted side of his submissive fetish! "Uh-huh," Jane snorted, her voice oozing contempt. "Did you wet your nappy for her? Did she change you?" "Yes Mummy." "Did you soil yourself when you were with her, you disgusting little girl?" She squeezed his balls threateningly, and he flinched and moaned in alarm at her tightening grip. Jane was certain the answer was a resounding 'yes.' Amanda's website made a point of saying she would deal with dirty nappies, and she was an self-proclaimed expert at potty- training naughty babies. Much of David's writing to other babies included references to pooping his pants or soiling his nappies, and his desire for strict potty-training. Anyway, he had already admitted to dirtying himself. He sounded like a contrite child when he mumbled, "Yeth Mummy, I usually pooped my nappy when I vithited Aunty Amanda." Jane spat, "Aunty Amanda, is it?" "I'm tho thowwy, Mummy," he meekly apologised. "I pwomithe I'll never do it again." His breathless high-pitched voice sounded strange in his own ears as he addressed the floor, never daring to lift his head. He concentrated on maintaining the required position; knees flexed slightly, feet apart - so Mummy could easily reach his jewels - arms stretched to his feet, fingers and thumbs gripping the plastic panties and his damp nappy bunched around his ankles. She manipulated his little clittie to full hardness again and his sobbing slowed to a tearful whimper. The inferno blazing in his bottom eased slightly. Feelings of pain were replaced by those of lust and hope - mixed with shame and fear at what Jane must think of him, after his humiliating revelations. She released his straining clittie and he became conscious of Jane's scary high heels again as she stepped round in front of him. Shiny black patent ankle-strap stilettos, with discrete one-inch platform soles and slender pointed heels at least five inches high - higher than he'd ever seen her wear, and they had a rather kinky ankle strap. He noticed she had fastened the Bulgari bracelet round her right ankle as well - the one he had bought her in Menton for $2,000! Was she enjoying this? Was this just a game to her? He couldn't tell. The suspense was killing him! "I pwomithe I won't poo my nappy again, Mummy," he sniffled like a well- punished toddler. "Oh yes you will!" Jane retorted, returning to stand behind him. He cringed in alarm. It was so much more frightening when he couldn't see her. "No more potty-privileges for you, remember? If you can poop your nappies for Aunty Amanda, you can poop them for your Mummy!" Jane frostily declared, "You're my baby now!" She reached between his legs again and was pleased to find him still hard. "You are going to be my baby girl from now on, just like you always wanted to be! I wonder if you'll find doing all your wetties and messes in your nappy in front of your wife, as exciting as you thought it would be? Are you looking forward to that?" She had clearly emphasised 'all.' Her menacing threats merely made his tiny tool pulsate madly in her caressing fingers. She knew he was completely hooked! "But first; we have some more business to attend to. Kiss it!" Jane released his swollen clittie and pressed the end of the cane to his lips, slowly, temptingly. He puckered up and frantically kissed the swaying tip. After a quick smirking glance at the nearby camera mounted over her vanity mirror, Jane turned to the snivelling sissy and insisted, "Baby Daphne, ask Mummy to cane your bottom for being a nasty little liar." "Oh no! Oh Mummy!" he wailed. Realising he had no other option, he dismally whimpered, "P-please Mummy, I- I'm sorry for being a n-n-nasty little liar. I- I- I need a caning." "Mummy can't hear you, Baby Daphne!" "I-I- I'm a n-n-nasty widdle wiar and I need you to cane me, pweathe Mummy?" David didn't understand. Jane was behaving like a professional dominatrix! Where on earth had his prim and proper wife learned to act like this? After a year of dating and three years of marriage, it didn't seem possible that this person could be his wife. Jane growled, "Remember the rules, Baby Daphne! If you get up or try to stop me, I'll throw you out of this house - for good!" She sounded furious, but inwardly Jane was rejoicing at how easy it was to dominate the effeminate sissy. "You are a nasty, lying little pervert, and you deserve to be punished!" He cringed in shame, knowing she spoke the truth. She crouched down, snatched up the dummy dangling from his nightie collar, and thrust the amber rubber teat in his mouth. "Here, baby. Suck your dum-dums. That might help." She paused before finishing scornfully, "You big cry-baby!" The dummy wasn't much comfort. If anything, the presence of normally- soothing teat heightened his confusion; David was terrified as Jane moved into place behind him. He knew he had to hang in there, but twelve more? He'd collapsed after the first six! He could see the end of the cane swinging lazily in her hand. Nasty little knots ran up its length. Jane raised the end of the punishment implement out of his sight. His welted bottom twitched as he flinched involuntarily, anticipating the next blow. Instead he felt the tip gently slide up and down his fiery bumcheeks, tripping slowly over the tender welts. She teased him with the end of the cane, tapping gently as she inquired, "Where should the next stroke be? Here? Here?" She drew back her strong right arm all the way, preparing for a savage downward cut. "Or here?" WHICK! David yelped in agony. "Oww! Owie! Oh Mummy! Mummy pweathe? Pweathe no?" WHICK! The next stinging slash burned a fresh line of fire across his bottom and he wailed, "Aiee!" 'This is so good,' thought Jane in sadistic delight. The warm glow was stronger down there and she knew her kitten was dripping-wet. She wanted to caress herself, to make the pleasure real. But there was no way she intended letting David know how much she enjoyed dominating him. Not at first. That would blow the whole plan. Jane sensuously rolled her hips and she pressed the heel of her left hand against the front of her tiny leather skirt, out of sight of her big baby. She rubbed her swollen pussy lips through her clothing for a few pleasurable moments, marvelling at how wet her panties felt. Preoccupied by her own state of arousal, the next two cuts she delivered were less vicious. Plus, Jane didn't want to break him. She could see David was really struggling to stay in position. He was crying like an inconsolable toddler, great hiccuping sobs making his narrow shoulders heave. "Shh baby. Shh!" Jane sang soothingly, switching from fire to ice in a heartbeat. "Keep still, baby girl. Present for Mummy. That's better. Only two more to go now," she promised, granting him the faintest hint his torture was drawing to a close. David heard the menacing whistle before an explosion of agony made him scream and buck. WHICK! "Owiee! Wah! Waah!" Jane had been really vicious with that one. "Get down! Assume the position!" she barked like a drill sergeant, and she waited until he obeyed. His welted bumcheeks were twitching like snakes in a rippled red sack in anticipation of the next blow. Jane deliberately struck low, across the tops of his thighs - mean, ugly, hurtful. WHICK! "Aiee! Oh Jane!" he screamed, before collecting himself. "Oh Mummy pweathe? Pweathe no? I can't take any more!" His high-pitched sobs welled up from that shameful bent-over position, begging, imploring - only to become a shriek as the sixth cut fell hard and strong - right across the top of two other fiery red marks. WHICK! "Aiee! Waah! Waah! Waaah!" He stood, face contorted, eyes streaming but pleading for mercy, hands clutching his welted bottom. "Get down!" she yelled, no hint of sympathy in her tone. Jane grabbed his ear and twisted it sharply, dragging him down with little resistance. She ruthlessly made him bend over again and present his tortured rear properly. "Do as Mummy tells you, little girl! Present that bottom for punishment! You will have that one again," Jane coldly informed him, as he struggled to assume the position. "Then we'll temporarily suspend the last six this evening - against your good behaviour for the rest of the weekend - as my full-time baby girl, you pansy! Or," she offered, slowly and carefully, "You can get out of this house now - forever!" He was too broken to realise he had already thrice escaped the threat of banishment. He remained in that ridiculous submissive position while she prepared to administer the final stroke of the session. He tearfully apologised, "I thowwy, Mummy. I thowwy! D-d-don't fwow me out! P-p- pweathe wet me thtay?" It was abject defeat, but a tiny part of David was looking forward to the promise of being babied when the punishment ended. No way was he leaving her now! Jane sensed in that moment, she'd won. She knew David would fall into line, submit and surrender to her will. Despite his apparent acquiescence, she sensed his lingering confusion. He didn't really understand what was happening. He was frightened of the cane, frightened of leaving her - but failing to comprehend that for all practical purposes, he had ceased to be her husband. More than that; he ceased to a normal man from that moment on. Her plan was working, but then; all of Jane's plans worked. She was one of the world's winners. David was about to find out what was like to be a loser; a very special kind of loser. The last cut was agonising, but Daphne stayed down, whimpering and wailing, waiting for Mummy to grant him permission to stand. Jane helped him upright and he staggered unsteadily as she removed his nightie. Eventually he found himself lying on the bed, being diapered and dressed by Jane for the first time outside his dreams. Mummy was kinder now; sympathetic even as she wiped away his tears. "Shh, darling, shh! It's alright, sweetie. Mummy's not mad with you any more. Shh. Stop all those sissy tears." She rubbed cool soothing baby lotion onto his screaming buttocks, her hands as gentle as the wings of an angel. She gently taped the first adult disposable of his new life around his waist, and carefully pinned one of his thick terry nappy over the top. She patted and smoothed the big plastic panties into place and ensured his nappy was safely tucked in all the way round, then helped him to his feet. He was shaking like a leaf in a breeze. "Reach for the sky, baby girl," Jane sang, and she slipped his frothy white petticoat over his raised arms and bowed head. His pink gingham play dress went over the top and she cooed, " Sit down on Mummy's bed." David winced when his battered bum made contact with the mattress, even with the extra padding underneath him. Mummy slid his frilly socks on his trembling feet, and last but not least, buckled on his shiny black patent Maryjanes. His sobs had slowed and his tears had almost dried on his cheeks before she finished brushing his hair. Jane found a pink plastic Alice band for his hair and popped his dummy back between his quivering lips. "Keep that in your mouth, baby," she sourly cautioned him, attaching the clip to the low round collar of his gingham frock. "It will help you stop crying - and maybe keep you from saying anything stupid." When he began obediently slurping on the fat rubber teat, she held out her hand for his. "That's better. Come with Mummy, baby." As she led him waddling downstairs, Jane scolded him, "You have no idea how upset Mummy was, when she found out you'd been keeping secrets from her and paying other women to baby you." "I'm thowwy Mummy," he mumbled shamefacedly around the mouth-filling teat. "Don't interrupt Mummy! You should have to come to me and told me what you wanted. I'm your wife. I love you, and I would have understood." she lied. Jane steered him along the hallway towards the kitchen. "But know Mummy knows the truth, that changes everything." He paused inside the doorway, shocked into stillness by the sight confronting him. There was a big pink-painted tubular steel highchair sitting beside the kitchen bench, the hinged white plastic tray open and waiting, with a bunch of pale pink nylon webbing straps dangling from various points. "W-what?" he stupidly mumbled. "Look, baby!" Jane didn't bother trying to hide the glee in her voice. "Mummy bought her special little girl a brand-new highchair! Isn't it lovely? Come on, baby girl, in we hop! Turn around for Mummy and I'll help you climb up." David let her help him clamber into the highchair in numb confusion. He'd always dreamed of something like this. Was it really happening? The tender feeling of his battered bumcheeks pressing into the padded vinyl seat assured him this was all too real. Jane cooed soothingly to the distressed big baby as she looped the waist belt through the attached crotch strap, before feeding the end through a metal loop in the back of the chair. She stepped out of sight behind him and crouched down. The waist belt tightened around his tummy, the crotch piece pressing against the front of his puffy nappy in a delightfully distracting way. Jane adjusted the waist strap till it was just tight enough, then clipped the end to a plastic buckle at the bottom of the rear right leg. She stood and checked the security of his restraints with a satisfied grin. All the adult-baby furniture had been purchased online over the last couple of months, and stored at her mother's place until David's latest trip overseas. Then the moving men delivered half the things to her house, and set up the big baby Nursery in what used to be the spare bedroom. The B&D fetish furniture had been designed specifically for adult babies, and despite the absence of padlocks or chains, it was completely escape-proof. The sturdy plastic highchair tray once lowered, locked in place - and could only be unlocked by simultaneously pressing two catches either side from the front. Simple - but impossible for the occupant to reach. The restraints consisted of two slender pink nylon webbing straps - a waist belt and a crotch strap with a loop. The waist belt had a white plastic catch on the end, which connected to a simple plastic buckle attached to the rear leg near the base - tough, unbreakable, but easy to undo - if you could reach it. David would later learn to his dismay that the buckle was completely out of his reach when he was strapped in the juvenile piece of furniture. But that thought was far from his mind as Jane lowered the tray against his tummy and plucked out his dummy. "Time for baby's din-dins," Mummy sang, as she clipped a huge lace-edged bib around his neck. "I've already heated yours in the microwave, sweetheart." Jane emptied two large jars of pureed toddler food into a green plastic bowl and carried it over to him in the highchair. "Here we go, baby! Eat it all up for Mummy. That's my girl. Good baby!" Despite hating the bland taste, she spoon-fed him every bite of the pureed mush, crooning encouragement to him like a loving mother the whole time. David swallowed his tasteless meal in fumbling confusion. Despite his blazing bottom, his stiffie was as hard as it had ever been! He was living his fondest fantasy and he couldn't quite believe it was happening to him. His Mummy had bought him a big baby highchair - a pink highchair, just for him! Jane wanted to baby him, and she didn't seem to mind that he wanted to be her baby girl. When the bowl was finally empty, Jane wiped his grubby face with his bib and lavished praise on him. "Such a good baby girl for Mummy! Aren't you, precious? Eating up all her din-dins like a good bubba girl!" Her tone and manner were so loving, he couldn't help smiling and nodding in reply. She grinned and handed him a fresh baby bottle filled with what looked like milk. He stuck the clear silicon teat in his mouth, tilted the base up high, and took a healthy suck. It was warm, almost hot, and tasted much sweeter than normal milk. "Drink it all up, sweetie," she urged him with an enticing smile, "and then it's time for good little baby girls to go to bed." Jane disappeared upstairs while he sucked on the teat of his bottle, and he had barely finished it by the time she returned. She had changed out of her sexy leather miniskirt and silk chemise into a knee-length white satin robe, belted tightly around her slender waist. With her honey- blonde locks loose and cascading over her shoulders, she appeared much less intimidating. She had kept on her exotic high heels however, so she still looked tall and imposing. Jane noted the empty bottle sitting on the highchair tray and nodded in satisfaction. "Has my baby girl finished her bottle?" she crooned, smiling smugly. He obviously hadn't tasted the drugs she'd slipped into his milk - a combination of a muscle relaxant and a mild diuretic. She'd disguised the chemicals by adding some sweetened condensed milk to the mix. "Good girl! Give your bottle to Mummy, sweetheart." She took the empty plastic bottle and washed it out in the sink. The muscle relaxant acted like a tranquilliser, and Jane knew she had less than half an hour to complete the next phase of her plan. After that, her new baby girl would slip uncontrollably into dreamland. The liquids she'd made him consume, along with the diuretic, would make sure Baby Daphne peed heavily all night - with the obvious consequences. She took off his bib and replaced his dummy, and she had to smile at how readily he accepted the teat of his pacifier. Jane stepped behind him to unbuckle the waist belt, then unlocked the highchair tray and raised it to one side. She pulled the waist belt through the crotch strap and cast aside the restraints, and helped him clumsily clamber down from the high padded seat. "There we go! Good girl! Now come with Mummy, sweetheart." He submissively accepted the hand she offered him and meekly followed her upstairs, his mind awhirl. One minute Jane was a furious aggrieved wife, keen to beat him senseless - the next she acted like a loving caring mother, concerned only for her baby girl's welfare. Which was the real Jane? He didn't know what to think. She was kind and attentive as she undressed him in their bedroom, speaking to him and treating the confused toddler exactly like he was a two-year-old girl named Daphne. David was fully erect and trembling with arousal by the time Mummy finished undressing him. When he was clad in his Winnie-the-Pooh nightie again, she led him over to the bed and sat him on the edge. Jane stood in front of her seated husband and unfastened the belt of her short satin robe. She slowly eased the flaps apart to reveal a hint of her voluptuous body. David gasped around the teat in his mouth when he realised she was only wearing a tiny pair of white nylon panties, her generous breasts free of any constraint. She held the flaps of her robe before they parted enough to reveal her stiffening nipples, and eyed the fascinated sissy baby watching her every move. "Are you my baby?" Jane softly demanded. David nodded and gasped, "Yes!" When she frowned he amended his reply. "Yeth Mummy!" "Good girl!" She beamed at him and opened her gown a little further. Her luscious russet nipples were already crinkling erect, standing out like little soldiers demanding his attention. "Whose baby are you?" "Yourth, Mummy! I'm your baby, Mummy!" He watched in fascination as she pinched one nipple between the tips of her thumb and index finger, teasing the sensitive bud to full tumescence. "Only my baby gets to nurse on Mummy's breasts. Are you my baby?" "Yeth Mummy! Me your baby," he blabbered, lapsing into lisping baby speech automatically and making her smile. Sucking Jane's nipples had always been a prelude to sex, and David figured there was no better opportunity for make-up sex. He didn't know his Mummy had other ideas. She cupped her left breast, bouncing the weighty globe in her hand as she crooned, "Would you like to have a nurse on Mummy's titties, Baby Daphne?" "Oh yeth, Mummy! Yeth pweathe, Mummy!" He spat out his dum-dums in readiness and it bounced against his tummy at the end of the slender plastic chain. Jane stepped closer to him, till her erect nipples were almost brushing his upturned face. "You have to promise to be a good baby girl for Mummy first," she insisted, cupping her huge meaty breast again and offering the russet nipple to his pouting wet lips. "I pwomithe, Mummy! I pwomithe," he fervently lisped, instinctively leaning forward. She responded by backing away from his searching lips. "Are we ready now to be Mummy's good little baby girl?" Jane demanded. "Tomorrow and all weekend, all day and all night?" "Yeth Mummy! Yeth pweathe, Mummy!" He remembered nodding in enthusiastic agreement that evening. Anything to get his lips around those succulent russet buds. Jane smiled at his willing acquiescence and nodded. "Alright, Baby Daphne. Crawl into bed and Mummy will let you have a little nurse from her boobies." He hurriedly climbed under the covers on his side of the bed, the rubber mat crinkling under his weight. Jane walked around to the left side of the bed, kicked off her heels and slipped off her robe, and climbed in beside him. He turned towards her, salivating with desire. She made him wait while she adjusted a couple of pillows behind her so she could sit up slightly, and she motioned him to rest his head on her lap. She hefted her meaty left breast in her cupped right hand, allowing the stiffening russet nipple to poke temptingly between her splayed fingers. "Here baby," she crooned, steering the erect bud between his saliva- coated lips. "Have a lovely nurse from Mummy's titty." He latched on with gusto and Jane gasped at the intensity of his sucking. She curled her left arm under his head and mashed his face harder against her cushiony breast in her excitement. Of all her lovers, David was the only one to pay satisfactory homage to Jane's beautiful breasts. He had always been eager to suckle, and would nurse on her sensitive nipples for as long as she let him. She winced and thought, 'Now I know why.' Aloud she murmured, "Good girl. Mmm, good girl! Suck hard, sweetie! Mmm! You have a lovely feed from Mummy, Baby Daphne. Mmm, that's it." Jane let him suckle on her left breast for about ten tantalising minutes, rubbing her meaty thighs together at the thrilling sensations. She was glad she was still wearing her panties. She could feel herself getting wetter and wetter down there. Jane broke his suction seal by sliding her index finger between his lips, and she used the finger in his mouth to steer his sweaty face to her other erect nipple. When he had successfully latched on again, she smiled down at the diapered big baby. She reached down and covered the tenting bulge in his plastic panties, caressing his twitching erection through his thick fluffy nappy. The thrilling suction faltered for a few moments. "Suck baby," she whispered in his ear. "Keep sucking. Don't you stop," she cautioned him. When he began lustily nursing once more, Jane resumed caressing his hard-on through his nappy. "See baby?" she softly questioned him. "See what you could have been enjoying all these years? If only you'd told Mummy the truth," she chided him in a sorrowful tone. Despite his arousal he grunted and groaned around the fat nipple in his mouth, writhing in in her arms from a combination of disappointment and shame. "But now Mummy knows what you really want, you can be my baby girl all the time! Won't that be nice?" David whimpered in agreement around the swollen nipple filling his mouth. Mummy's caresses to his nappy front grew firmer and faster as she promised to fulfil his unspoken fantasies. After the excitement of being diapered and babied by Mummy all afternoon, it was too much for the poor sissy baby. He moaned around the mouth-filling nipple as his pounding clittie exploded inside his nappy, spurt after spurt of creamy baby juice jetting out of his twitching tool. "Shh, baby! Shh! Good girl! That's my baby girl! Keep sucking, baby. Keep sucking." Jane cradled his head tighter to her bosom as his whole body twitched and jerked in orgasm, silently marvelling at the intensity of his climax. As soon as he finished cumming, feelings of guilt, remorse and shame threatened to overwhelm the poor sissy baby. David couldn't believe he had let his wife treat him like this. He felt so humiliated! It was like she was privy to all his dirty little secrets. He wanted to wrench his face away from her warm sweaty breast and jump out of bed, and tear off this stupid nappy and his nightie. He needed to show Jane he was still a real man. But a strange feeling of lassitude overwhelmed him before he could muster his strength, and Mummy was crooning sweetly, reassuringly in his ear. "That's my good baby girl! Such a good baby for Mummy! You keep nursing, baby girl. Everything's all right, Mummy's here. Mummy's got you now. Suck, darling. You're my precious little baby girl, and Mummy will take care of you. Mummy will take care of everything from now on." He knew he had fallen asleep at Jane's breast that night, cradled like a baby in Mummy's wonderful arms. When she was certain her new baby was safely unconscious, Jane rolled his limp body away from her voluptuous frame. She made sure Daphne's diapered rear was centred over the rubber under sheet, knowing her baby would wet heavily tonight. She slipped out of bed, grabbed her favourite vibrator from the drawer of her bedside table, and tip-toed out of the room without turning off the lights. Downstairs, she placed a folded towel on the lounge before she sat down, with her laptop on the coffee table in front of her. Jane couldn't believe how wet she was! She made sure her sissy baby hadn't shifted before she stopped the recording and then hit rewind. She paused at the point where she dragged her sissy baby out of bed. She started the replay and turned up the volume slightly, so she could hear her voice clearly - and her sissy's whimpered responses - over the buzzing of her vibrator. Minutes later Jane climaxed for the first time that day as watched herself cane the bent-over sissy's shivering red bottom. After watching the whole scene from one camera, she switched to another angle and started afresh. She lost count of the number of orgasms by the time the sado-masochistic performance came to a third tearful conclusion. Exhausted both physically and mentally - and emotionally - Jane disposed of her sodden panties and the damp towel in the laundry. She trudged upstairs and crept into the bedroom, but her little sissy was still out like a light. She felt much more refreshed after a hot shower, and she slipped on a clean pair of panties and retied her satin robe. Jane peeled back the blanket to check on her sleeping baby. His dummy was bobbing in his mouth even as he slept, and through his transparent pink baby panties, she could see a dark yellow patch had already formed. She covered him again and slipped out of the room, turning off the light behind her. As she skipped down the stairs, she decided to make herself a bite to eat and a fresh drink before she rang her mother. 'After all,' she considered, as she poured herself a healthy belt of Scotch, 'I deserve it!' * * * * * David replayed the scene in Mummy's bedroom over again in his mind as he struggled to eat his lunch at Nanna's. How could he have done it differently? How could he have prevented what had happened to him? What could he have said or done so he wouldn't have ended up sitting diapered in a highchair in front of his immediate family, with his lunch smeared all over his face and bib, his bemused sister-in-law Sheila staring at his wet nappy crotch? When Jane described the events of that day to her entranced sister and her husband, she omitted the most graphic details of his beating. He guessed it was because the children were present, but Mummy made it abundantly clear that David had effectively begged her to reduce him to his present baby girl status. David struggled with conflicting emotions as he listlessly chewed and swallowed. The shame and embarrassment when he recalled the events that day almost overwhelmed him. He struggled not to cry like a sissy cry- baby, trying to retain whatever shred of dignity he possibly could. But there was something else preying on his mind. Emma the Nanny almost always spoon-fed him, or Jane and Nanna did, the rest of the time. Baby Daphne really liked the attention and the sense of loving-care she associated with being fed,. Today however, David was having to feed himself with a baby spoon - and he wasn't faring very well. He realised bits and pieces of food were smeared all over face and splattered on his bib. On one hand, this made him feel awkward and useless in front of the family - on the other, it reinforced his desire - his need almost - to be fed like a helpless infant. The conflict between being considered even more infantile by being fed in front of everyone, and his desire for maternal attention, made him very unhappy. Much to his surprise, he found his hand moving slower and slower, and even more food tumbled from the shaky spoon. A very childish emotion welled up inside him. 'It's not fair,' Daphne thought. 'I can't help making a mess. It's not my fault!' He started to whimper like a sulky toddler and his protruding bottom lip quivered as he realised the truth. 'I need help! I'm just a baby! Someone should help me!' His face fell and he snivelled, "Mummy? Will you pweathe feed me, Mummy?" When he glanced up to see if Mummy heard him, the astonished expression on Sheila's face dragged him back to reality and made him feel even worse. Sheila tittered, "Aww! Does Baby Daphne need Mummy to feed her?" "She's not very good with utensils yet. She's only little," Jane tried to excuse his inept behaviour, but Zo? and Jessica were clearly unimpressed. Jane sailed round to him as though it was the most normal thing in the world to feed a grown man in a highchair at a Sunday family lunch, and she started spooning food into his mouth. Using baby wipes, she cleaned up most of the mess he'd already made on his face, clucking her tongue at him in gentle remonstration. Acting as though he really was a small child, she started to do the old 'train in the tunnel' trick with each heaped spoonful. David was grateful Mummy agreed to feed him, even if everyone at the table was watching. While Jane finished feeding the baby, the process of clearing the table started, making way for dessert. Simon walked around with the wine bottle again refilling glasses, and he lingered beside his wife's chair. He leaned his head close to Sheila's and whispered something in her ear, nibbling her sensitive lobe. She giggled and sitting opposite, Daphne saw her discretely ran her hand up between his legs and caress his groin, unnoticed by her children. Jessica and Zo?, who had to remain seated till the conclusion of the meal, fidgeted excitedly. They knew Nanna often made a chocolate sponge pudding for them as a special Sunday treat. The grown-ups normally had something more exotic (and less fattening,) like a rich fruit salad. Sheila still kept staring at David in the highchair, her eyes frequently dropping to his padded crotch poking out under the tray. Her expressions varied from outright contempt to disdainful amusement. He was acutely conscious of her contemptuous green-eyed gaze. As he wriggled in his bonds in discomfort, David felt the need to pee. Unlike this morning, it was urgent! He could feel the pressure building right at the end of his clittie, suddenly and without warning. It often did, these days. Sometimes he felt a growing need to empty his bladder, more or less like a normal person. But more often than not, it was like this: let go now! The inevitability of what was about to happen made him all the more certain he couldn't prevent it. But Sheila was staring at his groin! He struggled to control himself, but it was hopeless. There was a little pricking sensation at the tip of his clittie as he lost control and let go. He gasped when he felt the first scalding-hot spurt. His urine sprayed into the gap between his bunched nappy and his genitals, splashing back against him before trickling down in a myriad warm rivulets around his little sac. The sensation of heat changed to a soothing warm glow between his legs as the nappy did its job, before seeping wetly round to his bottom. He used to be able to regain control and halt the flow mid-stream - but not any more. This time the warm trickles seemed to last forever. The indignity of wetting himself while seated in his highchair at Nanna's - against his will, while Sheila watched him do it - caused a warm flush of embarrassment all over his body. His shame mounted as his cheeks blossomed pink with humiliation. Contrary to much ABDL fiction, you cannot hear a baby wet - be they adult or real - but you can easily recognise the signs when it is happening. The truth is written all over the adult baby's face, with little 'tells' - like a bad poker player with a good hand. David moaned quietly and glanced down at his crotch without realising what he was doing, trying to check that his nappy was working as it should. Never mind that this event occurred many times a day. A quick glance or touch to seek confirmation, coupled with the slightly glazed expression at first release, gave the game away to Sheila. Sensing his sister-in-law had twigged, David glanced up. When he saw the knowing smirk on her face, he looked at her hopefully, silently begging her to keep quiet. Sheila shook her head slightly, denying the sissy- baby's unspoken request, and she sniggered, "Jane? I think your baby here has wet her nappy again. Does that mean she needs to be changed soon?" Jessica and Zo? both stared at the big baby girl in the highchair in surprise. Adults don't wet themselves at the lunch table, do they? Zo? frowned and shook her head in disgust, but Jessica sounded almost sympathetic. "Aww! Poor baby!" the pretty five-year-old crooned. Helen called out from the kitchen, "No, don't worry, Sheila. Daphne's like your two, when they were still in diapers. Each nappy lasts Baby Daphne about a half a day - morning or afternoon - unless she is too smelly or dirty to bear having around. Anyway, she usually wears a disposable and a terry nappy over the top, to be doubly sure." Nanna chuckled as she walked back into the dining room, her arms laded with bowls. "You can imagine; I was worried about my soft furnishings when Jane first brought over her new baby. But everything has worked out perfectly! She told me Daphne's night nappies usually last her all night, as well. Did you know Jane often puts her little girl to bed around half past six?" David shrivelled in his restraining straps at this unnecessary revelation. Simon seemed briefly amused by the news his sissified brother-in-law would be spending most of the afternoon in a wet nappy. When the desserts were served to the children, David's portion came in a bright pink plastic bowl. His bottom lip poked out in disappointment when he saw the other children were being allowed to eat from Helen's best china. The chocolate pudding looked delicious and it was covered in a rich treacly sauce, and his serving had heaps of shaved chocolate sprinkles. He looked at the plastic bowl on the highchair tray in despair. David knew if he fed himself, he would have to make a mess. That was one of the unbreakable rules, and he'd already been in enough trouble today. He was wishing someone would feed him when Jessica piped, "Mummy? Can I feed Baby Daphne her sweets, please? I think she needs some help - otherwise we'll have a big mess everywhere, like when Zo? was little." Sheila sniggered and glanced at her bemused sister. When Jane smiled and nodded, Sheila replied, "Yes, Jessica. Certainly you can feed the baby! If you like? Are you sure you don't mind?" "I don't mind. Really." "She's a good girl," chimed in her doting Nanna. So David was to be fed by a five-year-old in front of his brother-in- law, mother-in-law, his three-year-old niece, his wife and her sister. Even the earlier events of the day couldn't equal this new shame. Jessica happily bounced out of her chair all smiles, and she trotted up to the highchair, preening her ra-ra skirt down over her ribbed white tights. David had noticed, somewhat enviously despite himself, Jessica's tights had the cutest little heart shapes in little-girl pink all over them. The trouble was; the only time he got to wear tights, his dresses were so short, he knew he looked like a ten-month-old baby. Helen noticed Jessica was having to stand on tip-toes to reach David's mouth with the spoon, and she suggested, "Wait a minute, Jessica. Let me bring in the wooden stool from the bathroom." Nanna hurried of and returned with the stool her grandchildren used to perch on while cleaning their teeth at the sink. Standing on the sturdy wooden stool meant Jessica was at the perfect height to look directly at David's dirty flushed face. Jessica crooned, "Now then, Baby Daphne. Are you going to be a good baby girl for me, and eat up your lovely chocolate pudding nicely?" The spoon loaded with sloppy dessert was inches from his lips as he responded, " Yeth Jethica," in his best sissy voice. Before he could open his mouth wide enough, the first mouthful of warm chocolate pudding was shovelled in. The dessert tasted delicious and he wanted to gobble down every morsel, but he knew better than to try and eat normally. He let a little masticated pudding ooze out of his mouth in a dribble of runny chocolate sauce. Jessica, her face inches from his as she tried so hard to neatly spoon-feed him, giggled in derision. "Oops-a-daisy, baby!" David knew Mummy and Nanna were watching. Carrots and sticks depended in his performance. Bigger lumps of food dribbled down his chin to plop wetly onto his plastic bib, and a grimacing Jessica scraped up the biggest bits. "Open up, Baby Daphne, Good girl!" She tried to shove the overloaded spoon back in his mouth before he was ready, smearing more sticky sauce over writhing lips and chin. Between Jessica's inexperienced hands and his compulsive slobbering, he soon became - as Jane correctly observed; "Look at her! She's a right mess - all over again!" "Oh dear!" Jessica groaned as she scooped up more messy spills. "You really are a baby! Aren't you, Baby Daphne?" She turned to her mother to ask, "Mummy; I'm sure my friends would love to meet Baby Daphne and play with her. She's so funny! Please, please let her come to our place for my sleepover?" she begged, returning to her earlier topic. Sheila looked doubtful, but Jane chipped in; "You know, it's amazing how readily strangers seem to accept Baby Daphne the way she is. I think if you explain to their mums that my little sissy wants to be treated like a real baby girl, they'll understand. And if you tell them Daphne lives, behaves and plays like a two-year-old girl all the time - and if you add that Jessica likes playing with her - I'm sure that will do the trick." David didn't know which way to turn. He could see Sheila looking at him in a way that suggested she would love the chance to humiliate him like this in front of her friends and their daughters. He could see her asking herself. 'Do I dare do it?' He liked being Jessica's friend an playing dolls with her, but being fed by her in front of everyone felt so demeaning! Messy feeding was one of the baby routines he found hardest to accept, especially as this lunch seemed to go on and on forever. The mess on his face and bib grew bigger and bigger and stickier and stickier! David was too distracted to focus on eating daintily. The prospect of attending a little girl's sleepover - not as a five-year-old but as the baby girl of the party - terrified him! He knew he would have to behave like a diapered toddler girl in front of Sheila's guests without any prompting, which would make everyone assume he was doing it because he wanted to. Of course he hadn't considered the fact that the girls' mothers might also be there, an additional source of embarrassment. Eventually Jane came to Jessica's rescue, crooning to her struggling niece, "Here, darling! Let me finish feeding the baby, Jessica Thank you, sweetheart, You've done a wonderful job." The smug pre-schooler jumped down and trotted off to eat her own chocolate pudding, while Jane shovelled in the last few spoonfuls from the plastic bowl. "Good girl, Daphne," Mummy praised the filthy toddler. "Good girl for eating up all your lunchie-wunchies for Mummy and your cousin Jessica. But look at that grubby face! My little girl is such a messy eater!" She vigorously applied a warm wet cloth to David's dirty face to clean him up, ignoring his childish whimpers of discomfort. To be continued in chapter 8. Please keep posting your comments here. I love to read your reviews, and I take your comments on board when writing future chapters. Hugs from Baby Jennie