Return To The Nursery Chap.8 free porn video

Dear tammyjean, Nicola, babyfelicia, baby pansy and Katie, thank you for all those encouraging reviews. Candy Sissiboi, I love that you tell me which part you found most inspiring/exciting, and I'll try to add more scenes like that in future. Hugs from Baby Jennie Chapter 8. Crib time After the girls asked for permission to leave the table, Zoe started to nag her mother about some make-up game she wanted to play this afternoon. When Sheila shook her head the three-year-old complained, "But Mummy! You promised you would make me up! Jessica said she wanted to be done as well, and Baby Daphne could be a made up as a pussycat." Helen asked, "What is she talking about?" Sheila explained, "I brought some children's theatrical make-up with me, so the girls could be made up as fantasy creatures. Zoe wants to be a witch, and Jessica wants to be a clown." She paused in thought for a moment and then smiled to herself as she agreed. "Yes, I suppose I could make Daphne look like a pussycat." Her smile turned wolfish. Simon excused himself, as the Grand Prix was about to start on TV. He wanted to see the start of the race, as that was always exciting. He asked the sissy in the highchair, "I guess you don't want to watch a car race, Daphne?" His quizzical bemused expression seemed to shout, 'My God! What a complete prat!' Of course David would have loved to abandon this stupid baby charade to watch some sport on TV, but that was out of the question. "No fank ou, Thir," he lisped. "I want to go play with Zoe and Jethica," It was the only answer he could give, although he was concerned about this make-up idea. What on earth did they intend doing to him now? For once Mummy came to his rescue. "No darling," Jane crooned to Daphne as she loosened his webbing restraints. "It's nap-time for little baby girls. Remember? You can play with your cousins after you've had a little nap in your cot." She popped his pacifier between his lips to silence any protests. Sheila announced to her daughters, "You girls can have a little quiet time while Baby Daphne takes a nap. You can lie down and watch TV in the sunroom for an hour or so, and after Daphne wakes up, I'll paint your faces." "Okay Mummy," Jessica agreed as she jumped down from her chair. She followed a complaining Zoe into the sunroom. Jane helped David climb down and took his hand to lead him upstairs. Helen leapt to her feet and offered, "Let me put her down for her nap, honey. Sit down and finish your lunch." "I've had enough to eat, thanks Mum." "Then sit down and enjoy your coffee. Let me take care of the baby." Jane tossed her mother a questioning look. "If you don't mind?" "I don't mind at all." Helen took Baby Daphne's hand from her daughter's grasp, crooning, "Come on, little girl. Let Nanna take you upstairs and put you to beddy-byes. It's nap-time for all good baby girls." Jane resumed her place at the table with a grateful smile and Nanna escorted Baby Daphne up to the Nursery. Helen wanted to make sure Baby Daphne was settled in her crib and safely asleep, so the laxatives in her lunch wouldn't take effect too soon. Jake was due to arrive in less than two hours, and Helen wanted to ensure the sissy baby filled his nappy in front of her daughter's lover. 'There's no way Daphne's ego will be able to recover from the embarrassment,' she thought with a wicked grin. 'And no way Jane will ever be able to accept this hopeless sissy baby as a man ever again.' After she removed Baby Daphne's frock and petties, Helen checked his nappy. "You're damp - but not too wet," she decided, patting his warm wet crotch in a dismissive gesture. "This nappy will easily last my big baby girl until after nap-time. Besides, Nanna knows how much her little girl loves the feel of her warm wet nappies when she's alone in her crib." She grinned at his embarrassed expression and cooed, "Up you hop, sweetie." She made him climb up on the change table anyway, so she could unbuckle and remove his Maryjanes and peel off his frilly anklet socks. He dreaded what was coming next. Nanna left him sitting on the change table while she searched the chest of drawers for something for him to wear to bed. Helen had a variety of footed pyjamas she'd bought especially for him for nap-times, and he loathed the infantile sleep-suits. They were made from poly-fleece, an artificial fabric which trapped the heat and made him sweat unbearably - especially on warm days like today. And worse - they had padded mittens sewn to the end of the sleeves. There was no way he could free himself and slip a hand inside his nappy to play with his clittie during nap- time. Nanna chose an apricot-pink pair, with little yellow stars and moons printed all over. "Footsies in," she urged him, feeding his feet inside the legs. "Good girl." After she drew them up his thighs, she urged the sissy baby to stand. She made him turn his back on her as she fed his arms into the narrow sleeves, and when his hands popped out the ends into the padded mittens, she drew the rear flaps over his shoulders. There was a thick brass zipper in the back, running from the top of his nappy all the way to the collar, and Nanna zipped it closed with a tiny tab. The footed sleeper drew tight around his upper body, although there was ample room below his hips for his thick nappy. He winced when she fastened the velcro patch over the top of the zipper, covering the clasp, the odd sound sealing him in the juvenile outfit. "There you go, Daphne! My little baby girl is all safe and sound," Nanna gushed, patting his bottom. "Climb into your cot, sweetie, and I'll bring you a nice bottle of milk. Won't that be lovely?" "Yeth Nanna, fank you Nanna," he mumbled as he submissively climbed into the barred steel crib. She raised the open side until it met the barred lid, and he heard the built-in bolts clunk into place. It was like the sound of a prison door slamming. He was surrounded by pink-painted steel bars, with no hope of escape. As David suckled from the teat of a baby bottle full of warm milk, he couldn't stop his eyes from fluttering closed. He had been put down for a nap every afternoon after lunch for several months, and despite being an adult, he'd soon become accustomed to have a little sleep in the middle of the day. He even got cranky and irritable when he was overdue for a lie-down. When he finished the bottle, he flipped it aside and fumbled for his dum-dums. The mittens encasing his fists made him clumsy as an infant, and it was a real struggle to manoeuvre the amber teat between his searching lips. He sighed in relief when he succeeded and sucked gratefully on the fat rubber nipple. He reached down and patted the bulk of warm wet cloth cupping his genitals, the sleeper crotch sliding easily over the plastic panties underneath. He drifted off sucking noisily on his dum-dums, and he didn't realise he was wetting his nappy again as he was claimed by the arms of Morpheus. He had no idea how long he had slept when he woke up on his back, his face and neck beaded with sweat. There was so much drool and sweat around his mouth, the wide plastic guard of his dummy seemed glued to his face. Nanna had drawn the curtains and the room was dim, despite the bright afternoon sunshine outside. His nappy was a warm heavy weight on his genitals and he reached down and caressed the crotch of his sleep- suit. His mittened fist bumped uselessly against his warm wet padding. When he remembered he couldn't slip his hand inside his nappy to play with his clittie, he pouted in disappointment around the sloppy dummy in his mouth. Instead he pressed the back of his mitten against the fitted sheet under his bum, checking for signs of dampness with his knuckles. Despite the fact that Nanna kept a wetproof plastic sheet over his crib mattress for security, he knew she got cranky with him when he was forced to change his soiled bed linen too often. There was a plastic cup-holder attached to the head of his crib, and he rolled onto his tummy and crawled onto his hands and knees. He knelt up and reached for the bottle of water he could see. He was used to wearing mittens now, and he picked up the sloshing bottle with both hands without too much difficulty. He lay back, spat out his dummy and stuck the teat in his mouth, gratefully gulping down half the contents in his thirst. He felt like he'd lost a litre of sweat in his poly-fleece cocoon, and he needed to replenish the fluids. He didn't care to think about where most of those fluid were going to end up. David sucked more leisurely on the teat as he recalled the first morning he'd woken up as Baby Daphne in Mummy's bed at home - and the mess he made of her expensive sheets. Jane had woken him by peeling back the bedclothes and crooning, "Wakey-wakey, baby girl! Time to wake up, Baby Daphne!" He'd struggled to shake off the effects of a drugged sleep, then he felt Mummy's hand pressing against the front of his crinkling baby panties. "Oh my! What a wet baby girl! That certainly is a wet nappy, Baby Daphne." He was thrilled she didn't sound annoyed or upset. Her hand slid down between his splayed thighs and he felt her stiffen. "Oh-oh! Oh no! Did you wet Mummy's bed?" He struggled to sit up, and when he did, he realised there was a dark wet patch underneath him on the white fitted sheet. His mouth fell open and his dum-dums tumbled from his lips. A huge yellow circle surrounded his bum, and he could feel cold urine puddling under his knuckles where they pressed into the bedding. At least the rubber sheet underneath had protected the mattress. "You naughty baby girl!" Jane scolded the confused sissy. "Look at the mess you've made of Mummy's bed!" He stared up at his infuriated wife in a fog of embarrassment and confusion. Jane had rolled out of bed about an hour before waking her new big baby. She anticipated he'd flood his night nappy, and when she carefully raised the bedclothes and checked, she eyed the wide wet circle on the bed sheet with a triumphant grin. She replaced the blanket without waking her baby girl and slipped into the bathroom, humming quietly to herself. Half an hour later, she emerged from the bathroom freshly showered, her hair brushed and her pretty face made stunningly beautiful with the artful use of make-up. She slipped into her baby-blue bra and matching satin panties, and tossed on a simple blue house dress which set off her sapphire eyes brilliantly. Jane eyed the five-inch shoes she'd been wearing the previous day. She liked the advantage high heels gave her over her submissive sissy, but she didn't want to risk falling over and embarrassing herself. Today was all about control - the control she intended exerting over her perverted little sissy baby. She chose a pair of rope wedges which were only four inches high, with a discreet platform sole, and she smiled at her appearance in the vanity mirror. Perfect! She looked the very image of a modern, attractive young mother. She traipsed downstairs and enjoyed a quick breakfast and a strong cup of coffee, before returning to her bedroom to wake her sleepy baby girl. "Oh Baby Daphne! What a mess you've made!" Jane pulled a wry face and shrugged her shoulders regretfully. "Oh well. I was going to start my baby's day by giving her a lovely feed from Mummy's breasts - but I'm not climbing into that pee-soaked bed with you! Up you hop!" Baby Daphne poked out her bottom lip in disappointment when Mummy hauled her out of bed. Jane marched him into the bathroom and undressed him beside the bath, which was already half-full of hot water. She unclipped his dummy chain and tossed his pacifier on the vanity bench, where it landed with a noisy clatter. She unpinned his nappy without removing his baby panties, and it was so heavily drenched, the whole lot slid down his thighs and all the way to his ankles without a move from him. "Such a wet nappy," Jane gently scolded him as she helped him step clear and climb into the tub. "Mummy might have to put Baby Daphne in a thicker nappy at night from now on, to help keep her sheets dry. What do you think, baby girl?" David didn't know what to think, although he blushed in shame when a golden stream of urine jetted from his limp little clittie before he could lower his bum into the water. "Oh baby! Are you doing a wee-wee in the bathtub? That's naughty," she scolded him, relishing his humiliated expression. "I know you're only little, darling - but you must try not to pee-pee in the bath. That's dirty!" She scrubbed his back and shoulders with a warm soapy washcloth and washed under his armpits, frowning at the quantity of hair. When she washed between his legs, he couldn't help reacting, his clittie rising to full attention. Jane ignored his excitement to comment, "You're starting to get a bit hairy down here, Baby Daphne. When did you last shave?" "A few days ago," he mumbled, his cheeks blazing with guilt. He always shaved his diaper area a day or two before he intended visiting one of his professional Nannies. "Little girls don't have all this yucky fur down here, do they?" Jane quizzed him. David shook his head, unable to meet her gaze. "No," he whispered. Her hand lashed out, smacking his left inner thigh painfully hard. "Oww!" Jane snapped, "No Mummy! Say it!" "No Mummy," the chastised baby whimpered contritely, rubbing the bright red mark. "Good baby. Stay there. Mummy will fix." It took her about twenty minutes with her ladies' razor to shave his pubic area and his legs. At first it looked like he wanted to object when she started shaving his upper thighs. It was one thing to shave one's privates, but his legs? If he went outside in shorts, David knew anyone would be able to see he had hairless legs - like a girl - or a baby. By the time Jane was satisfied her petrified sissy baby was baby- smooth below the waist, she was grimacing in annoyance. "This is a pain in the arse," she complained to her cowering husband. "I don't fancy doing this to you every few days, little girl." She could see the tip of his erection poking up out of the water, and he was struggling to keep from touching himself. Obviously he was enjoying the attention - just like any normal toddler As she rinsed the razor, Jane had a thought. She asked, "Baby Daphne? Do you like being baby-smooth all over?" David was sitting in the tub running his hands over his hairless legs, marvelling at the silky-smooth feel and how feminine they looked. "Yes," he whispered, his stiffie pounding between his legs in excitement When her shadow loomed over menacingly him he hastily amended that to; "Yeth Mummy! It feelth woverwy!" Mummy dimpled at his response before asking, "Would my little girl like Mummy to take care of removing baby's yucky fur from now on?" "Yeth pweathe, Mummy," he readily agreed. He knew how difficult it was to remove every trace of unwanted hair from his diaper area, especially from those areas he couldn't see properly. "Alright, Baby Daphne!" Jane crooned. "Mummy will take care of that from now on. Mummy will make sure her little girl never has to worry about yucky grown-up fur ever again!" She was already thinking of what she could say to Isabell, her friend and hairdresser. Isabell offered a laser hair removal service at her salon, and Jane felt certain her good friend would let her bring in her sissy-baby for some treatments. 'That should be fun!' she thought with a wicked smile. She pulled out the plug and ordered him to rinse out the tub after it emptied, sluicing all the little mousey-brown hairs down the drain. She left him alone to complete this task, and when she returned a few minutes later, she crooned, "Good girl! Now turn off the taps, and hop out for Mummy so I can dry you off." When he was sufficiently dry, Jane hung up the towel and pushed his dum-dums back between his lips. "Suck, baby." She led her clean dry baby back into the bedroom and steered him towards her side of the bed, where a fresh cloth nappy was already laid out, with an open disposable over the top. "Come on, baby. Let's get a nappy on you before you make a mess!" Jane gently cautioned him. She helped him lie down in the correct position and sprinkled a handful of powder over his stiffie and sack. "Ooo! My little girl is so excited," she teased him, as she rubbed the lightly perfumed powder into his straining erection. Jane released him after a few quick strokes and sang, "Lift those leggies for Mummy. Bend your knees right back. Good girl!" This was not the time to let David cum. She knew her sissy baby would want to throw off the yoke of his baby clothes within seconds of climaxing. His corrugated cheeks felt like a crinkle-cut chip when she gently ran her palm over the welts, smoothing the powder over his tender bottom. She saw him flinch in pain and she crooned, "Aw! Does my poor widdle baby girl have a poor sore bottom?" He pouted and nodded and she sang, "That's good! That will remind Baby Daphne she has to be good for Mummy." She paused and gave his upturned cheeks one crisp hard swat. "Ow!" David squealed and his heels crashed onto the mattress. "And remind Baby Daphne not to tell lies to Mummy. Right, baby?" "Yeth Mummy," he contritely mumbled. She taped the disposable around him and then pinned his nappy over the top, all sugar and spice again. "Lift those leggies again and point those widdle toesies for Mummy." She threaded his daintily pointed toes inside the leg holes of some yellow plastic panties. "Good girl! Now leggies down and lift that bot-bot for Mummy." Like most of his big baby pilchers, they were transparent, so the state of his nappy could be checked with a simple glance. She fed his feet into some frilly white anklet socks and turned down the lace frills till they were even. David only owned four toddler frocks, and Jane chose a simple pastel-yellow sundress for her little girl to wear today. She ordered, "Sit up for Mummy and hands up, sweetie!" The short-sleeved cotton frock had a high Empire bust and was heavily flounced, the flowing folds barely covering the waistband of his baby panties. She patted the crotch of his protruding plastic panties. "Aww! So cute!" Fully dressed and with his black patent Maryjanes buckled on his feet, Jane made him strip her bed completely. After he collected his sodden night nappy and baby panties from the en suite, she led her embarrassed sissy baby toddling downstairs to the laundry. "Dump those wet things in the washing machine, baby girl, and Mummy will show you what to do." Even though he knew how to use the washing machine, he had to stand there while Mummy went through the whole explanation. "You're going to be in charge of the laundry from now on, little girl. Mummy can't spend all her time washing your wet and dirty nappies. You can be Mummy's little helper. Can't you, Baby Daphne?" After he had poured in the correct amount of detergent, bleach and fabric softener, Mummy showed him how to select the right cycle and switch it on. "Good girl!" she praised him when the machine started noisily filling with water. He couldn't hide his childish smile of pleasure. In the kitchen, she buckled him in the highchair and plonked a big plastic bowl of warm porridge on the tray, but no spoon. He had to wait until she clipped a bib around his neck before she handed him any cutlery. While he gobbled down his warm breakfast, Mummy chattered about the changes she had made in the kitchen. She pointed to the whiteboard mounted beside the fridge and explained the concept of 'carrots and sticks.' She placed a big plastic baby bottle full of juice on the white plastic tray. "When you've finished your bottle," she informed him, "Mummy is going to introduce her little girl to the naughty corner." She threw him a forbidding scowl. "You made a big mess on Mummy's bed sheets last night. Didn't you, baby girl?" David had the grace to look guilty and he ducked his head in shame as he nodded. "That was very naughty! That's twenty minutes in the naughty corner for that little infraction," she huffily announced. "Understand Mummy?" He nodded as he pushed away the empty bowl and picked up his bottle, surreptitiously thrusting his erection against the front of his diaper. Jane was acting like the dominant mother of his fantasies - firm but loving, strict but caring, harsh but fair. He held the sloshing vessel in both hands as he steered the huge silicon teat between his lips, and he thirstily gulped down a few mouthfuls of chilled apple juice. Jane left her big baby trapped in the highchair while she dashed upstairs to collect his spare dummy from his suitcase. 'His travelling dummy,' she thought with a smile. After wiping clean his hands and face like a loving mother, Jane released him from the highchair restraints and helped him down. She led him into the hallway and introduced him to the shiny chromed steel rod running from floor to ceiling, deep in the corner next to the front door. Jane explained its cruel purpose as she fed a short length of pink satin ribbon through the ring of his spare dummy. She then looped the shiny ribbon around the rod and tied it in a tight double knot, so the dummy was permanently attached. She held the dummy teat level with his head and cooed, "Come here, baby girl. This is your punishment dummy. Pop that in your mouth. Let Mummy hear you sucking, nice and loud now. That's right, good girl." He had to bury his face in the corner to suck on the fat pacifier nipple, the shiny chromed pole an inch from the bobbing guard of his dum-dums. Jane had to smile at the comical sight of the big baby girl with her nose buried in the corner. The odd pose forced him to squat slightly and poke out his puffy bottom, so he looked even more toddler- like - if that were possible. "Whenever you are sent to the naughty corner, you must keep that punishment dummy in your mouth, the whole time," Jane warned him. "Understand Mummy?" "Yeth Mummy," he squeaked around a mouthful of rubber teat. Despite the humiliation, he was hard as a rock inside his fluffy nappy, and he reached around to surreptitiously stroke the tenting front of his baby panties. "Ah-ah-ah!" Mummy cautioned him, smacking away his hands. "No touching, little girl! That's naughty! Hands behind our back! Fingers interlocked. That's better." Mollified, she gently patted his diapered butt in reward. "This is the position you must maintain while you are having a time-out, sweetie. If you move or drop your dum-dums, we'll have to start Baby Daphne's punishment time all over again from the very beginning. You don't want that, do you baby girl?" "No Mummy." "That's my girl! You stay right there until Mummy says you can come out. Mummy has to make a few phone calls." Jane walked off and left her babyfied husband cringing in the corner, confident he would remain in place and do as he was told. After corner-time Mummy led him back to the kitchen, where she tied a pretty white pinafore apron around his waist. She looped the neck piece over his head and straightened the lace-edged bottom. It didn't quite cover the hem of his sweet yellow frock. "You can be Mummy's little helper and help out with the housework," Jane informed him with a brilliant smile. She made David wash the breakfast dishes and clean the kitchen from top to bottom, then it was time to empty the washing machine. Despite the thrill of being diapered, dominated and petticoated, his erection wilted while he was doing the boring chores, and he carried the washing basket full of wet things out to the back door. "Go and hang those things on the line," Mummy ordered, waving carelessly towards the back yard. Jane watched his face blanch and his narrow shoulders sag. She didn't realise the terrified sissy was wetting himself in fright. "But Mummy!" he whimpered, as his nappy warmed distractingly around his loins. "What about the neighbours? They might-" "That's one stick you've earned already!" Jane snapped, stepping inside his personal space to intimidate him. She loomed threateningly over the cowering sissy, grateful for the height advantage her heels provided. "When Mummy tells you to do something - you do it! No ifs, buts or maybes! You are a little girl! I am your Mummy! Little girls do as Mummy tells them! Understood?" "Yeth Mummy," Daphne whispered. As the hot stream trickled to a halt, his clittie started to stiffen against the warm damp wadding. "What was that, little girl? Don't mumble at the floor when Mummy is speaking to you! Lift that chin and look at Mummy's face." "Yeth Mummy, I'm thowwy Mummy," Daphne muttered, struggling to raise her head to meet Mummy's cold sapphire eyes. "You must always look at the faces of your elders and betters when you speak to them. Now what do you understand, little girl?" "You're the Mummy and I'm the baby, and- and - and I have to do ath I am told," he humbly repeated, before letting his watering eyes drop to the tangled sheets in the pink plastic basket. He was embarrassed, ashamed and frightened, and as hard as a rock inside his warm wet nappy! Because their house was on the side of a hill, their back yard could only be overlooked by the neighbours on the uphill side. It was after nine o'clock on a Friday morning. Jane knew her uphill neighbour, Paula Parker, had long gone to work and her teenage daughters were safely in school - but David didn't think of that. All he could think of, as he stumbled into the sunny back yard, the heavy basket clutched in his arms, was the imminent threat of public exposure. He had kept his dirty little secret for so many years - and then his wife somehow found out he was a big sissy baby. Now the whole world was about to learn the truth! Why wouldn't his clittie go down? He scurried over to the rotary clothes line in the middle of their back yard and while Jane watched from the kitchen doorway, he started pegging up the sheets. He paused and glanced pleading at Mummy when he hesitantly pulled out one of his laundered nappies, but she merely smiled thinly and nodded in encouragement. He shook out and hung up the two thick hourglass-shaped nappies, then the huge pink baby panties beside them. Finally he pegged up his Winnie-the-Pooh nightie. The basket empty, he snatched it up and dashed back into the house. Jane chuckled as she watched him replace the plastic basket in the laundry, his face flushed and his head hanging low. "Get used to it, baby," she heartlessly reminded him, making his stiff clittie wilt. "You're going to be hanging all your nappies and baby panties on the line every day from now on. I told you - Mummy's little helper is in charge of the laundry from now on. Now come with Mummy." Jane showed him how to dust and polish properly - which he thought unnecessary - and she criticised him when he didn't follow her instructions to the letter. She followed around the cowed big baby and supervised his work at first, and he was limp as a wet noodle by the time she seemed satisfied. Even though David despised the menial tasks, when he behaved and performed properly, Mummy rewarded him by lovingly patting his bottom or caressing the front of his baby panties. "That's better!" Jane sang as she stroked the warm slick front of his plastic panties, making him all excited again. "What a good baby girl you're being for Mummy now." She made him dust the whole house and vacuum from top to bottom before lunch, and despite the occasional maternal attention and her thrilling caresses, he was grateful for the rest when Mummy removed his pinafore in the kitchen around midday. She steered him backwards till his padded bum bumped into the highchair and crooned, "Upsy-daisy!" She buckled him in and lowered the highchair tray until it locked in place. Jane fed him two large jars of tasteless baby pap mixed together in a plastic bowl, and he kept twisting his face away and grimacing at the foul concoction. "Please Jane? I mean, Mummy? I can't eat that? It tastes vile!" "That's another stick for that outburst, young lady! And another for forgetting to use your proper baby voice! My, my! You must really enjoy having your bottom paddled, little girl. Is that right?" "No Mummy, no! I- I thowwy, Mummy," he apologised, terrified by the thought of more punishment. Jane had to laugh at the mess she'd made of his face. His bib was splattered with grey-green gunk, and he looked like a real baby - a messy baby in a highchair. "Oh Baby Daphne! You should see yourself," she chortled. "No! Don't touch your face. It's dirty! Be a good little girl and sit still, and let Mummy finish feeding you your lunch." She scooped up the remaining gruel and fed it to him, adding, "You look like a real baby. It's kind of cute! In fact - don't swallow that mouthful!" David held the runny pap in his mouth. It was an easy order to obey. "I want you to let it dribble out of your mouth bit by bit. Open your lips a fraction. That's it, not too much. Just let a little goo leak out, and give Mummy a great big smile." He was horrified when he saw her holding her phone out, ready to snap his picture. "I said smile, Baby Daphne!" The tortured smile he gave her was forever captured on a memory card, his lips and cheeks plastered with gruel, his chin dripping, splatters of food all over his bib. She stepped over beside him and showed him the picture, singing, "Look how cute you are! Adorable!" David was gratified to see he was almost unrecognisable in the photograph, with most of his face covered in slimy muck. As she put away her phone Jane commanded, "Whenever Mummy gives you something to eat, you must always let a little of each mouthful dribble onto your bib. It looks kind of cute, and it will help remind you what you really are - a hopeless little baby girl!" She gave him a bottle of juice to slurp down while she went to the whiteboard. She picked up the marker and placed a few ticks in the slot marked 'carrots.' "That's one carrot for doing the laundry, one carrot for dusting, and one carrot for vacuuming." She turned to him and beamed. "What a good baby girl! Such a good little helper for Mummy! You did a very good job, baby!" Baby Daphne wriggled in the highchair restraints, sucking hard on the bottle teat, basking in Mummy's generous praise. But then Mummy made marks in the 'sticks' column. "That's one stick for wetting Mummy's bed. One stick for not doing as you were told quickly enough, one stick for trying to reject your nutritious lunch!" She turned to him and barked, "It's good for you!" He cringed under her maternal admonition. "And one more for forgetting to speak properly." She rubbed out one of the marks, to his relief "Minus one stick for the corner-time you did this morning. It's a good thing you didn't earn another stick, young lady - otherwise you'd be getting a paddling before nap-time. And don't forget - Mummy still owes Baby Daphne six cuts of the cane from last night. Remember?" Jane tried not to grin when she saw him quake in fright, and he almost choked on a mouthful of apple juice. "If I have to take down that nappy to give you a spanking today, you're getting the rest of what I owe you as well. Understand?" "Yeth Mummy!" Daphne squeaked around the bottle teat, dribbling juice down his chin in his haste to reply. "Good girl!" She turned back to the whiteboard and placed another tick in the 'carrots' column. "That's another carrot for remembering to dribble for Mummy. Such a clever little dribble-puss!" Jane didn't bother hiding her grin of delight. It was a well-worn method of behaviour modification, and with the simple use of a whiteboard and marker, she was going to alter her baby girl's behaviour - forever! "You finish that bottle while Mummy gets everything ready for nap-time. I can't have you wetting Mummy's bed again, little girl, so I've come up with some alternative sleeping arrangements for you. Wait'll you see!" She giggled girlishly in anticipation before she trotted out of the kitchen, heading for the staircase. After she returned, Jane washed his face and hands, removed his filthy bib and scoured clean the splattered tray before she let him out of the highchair. She popped his dummy back between his lips, crooning, "Suck your dum-dums, baby. Nice and loud now. Mummy wants to hear you sucking. Good girl!" She pressed his warm nappy against his groin after he climbed down and cooed, "Ooo! What a wet nappy!" She cupped her hand under his crotch and pressed the warm sodden mass against his genitals. "You like that, though - don't you, baby girl?" He nodded, grimacing in self-loathing around the wide guard of his pacifier in spite of his arousal. "That's alright, sweetie," Mummy reassured him. "You're just a baby girl, and babies don't mind being wet or messy. Do they, Princess?" He was grateful for her kind words and fully erect again by the time she led him down the hallway and pushed him ahead of her up the stairs. "Waddle more," Jane commanded. "You're a baby in diapers - you should walk like one," she admonished him. "That's better! Good girl!" she praised him, patting his bottom in approval. By this simple system of rewards and punishments, Jane intended turning Baby Daphne into the sissiest, most infantile creature she could. She steered him past the doorway to their bedroom - her bedroom now - and he paused outside the closed door to the spare bedroom next door. Jane pointed to the new wooden sign screwed to the door, level with his face. 'Baby Daphne's Nursery' it announced, beside a cartoon drawing of a twirling ballerina in a pink tutu. "This is your new Nursery, little girl," Mummy whispered in his ear as she leaned past him and turned the knob. She pushed open the door and he almost fainted. His knees turned to jelly as he stumbled into the room, and Jane had to catch him under the armpits to stop him from collapsing. "Careful, baby," she admonished the stunned lad as she helped him towards the open wooden crib. "Stand up straight, sweetheart. That's better. Lift your arms for Mummy and stand still," she cooed, and she removed his yellow dress. She opened the wardrobe and took out a nightie - a yellow one, made from slippery shiny nylon. "You only own one nightie sweetheart, and it got wet last night. Didn't it? You can borrow this old one of Mummy's for the moment. Alright? Arms up!" He shivered as the slinky nightie slid down over his torso, his little nipples stiffening at the sensuous caress. Unlike his baby doll nighties, Jane's shortie nightgown fell all the way to the crotch of his baby panties. Jane smiled at his expression of rapture as she clipped his dummy chain to the collar of the yellow nightie. "Hop up in your crib and sit up facing Mummy, and we'll take off your shoes and socks." He could hear a protective plastic mattress cover crinkling under the fitted pink sheet. As she unbuckled his Maryjanes she asked, "Would my little girl like Mummy to buy her some new nightgowns of her very own? And maybe some pretty new frocks? Hmm?" David writhed in excitement on the crib mattress, the crinkle of the protective sheet under his wet bum only adding to his arousal. This Nursery - the big baby furnishings - were like something out of his sissy-baby dreams! And Mummy wanted to buy him some new nighties and baby dresses? "Oh yeth Mummy! Yeth! Yeth pweathe, Mummy?" he joyfully squeaked. "Alright, baby girl," Jane smiled, "we'll do that." She tossed his shoes and socks aside and clapped her hands. "Okay, little girl. Climb into bed and lie down." He wriggled backwards and lay back with his head on the pillow, and Mummy raised the side. The crib had solid panels at the head and foot ends, and wooden bars along the sides. The mattress was about a metre off the ground and the bars extended a metre above that. He looked up at the high railing and thought, 'I could climb that!' But then he looked down at the floor. If he slipped and fell climbing over the top, it would be a two-metre drop. He was distracted when Jane reached between the bars and caressed the warm front of his baby panties. "You're wet - but I know you love that! I won't bother changing your nappy until after nap-time." She pressed her fingers into the warm wad of cloth and gel padding, wrapping the sodden mass around his little erection. "Mmm! You love it! Don't you baby?" "Yeth Mummy," he gasped, wriggling his hips and thrusting his stiff clittie against her hand. "Ooo! My little girl is so excited! What a hard little clittie! Are you my excited little baby girl? Are you my sweet little Baby Daphne?" She teased him with her fingers and her sultry tenor voice until he was gasping in arousal, so close to cumming. Then it stopped. "I don't want you too excited, little girl. You need to go to sleep. It's nap-time for baby girls, and Mummy wants you to get some rest." She walked away and opened one of the dresser drawers. "You've had a busy morning. Roll onto your side and face Mummy. Good girl. Now poke your hands through the bars. Further. That's right. Good girl." She made him shove his hands inside some snug pink leather mittens, and he found the firm rubber balls inside kept his thumbs and fingers uselessly parted. Jane buckled the mittens around his wrists and then tied the buckles closed with some strips of the same pink ribbon she'd used to attach his dummy to the rod in the naughty corner. She tied each in a double, then a triple, then a quadruple knot, pulling the ribbon ends so tight, David feared she'd never be able to undo them. Satisfied, she patted his bound fists and beamed in delight. "There you go! Now my little girl can't play with her clittie during nap-time. Can she?" "No Mummy," Baby Daphne mournfully replied, withdrawing his encased hands to examine the unbreakable bonds. His erection pounded with desire inside his warm wet swaddling. Jane took a baby bottle full of water from the top of the dresser and cooed, "Lie on your back and let Mummy see if you can manage to hold your own bottle." She fed the bottle upright between the bars and steered the clear silicon teat towards his lips. David spat out his dum- dums and accepted the dripping teat, and he tried to grab the heavy plastic vessel. The fat rubber balls prevented him from getting any decent grip. Mummy kept holding the end, grinning at his struggles, beaming when he finally managed to clumsily grasp the slippery round object between his mittens. "Good girl!" she praised him, like he was an infant girl learning to hold her own bottle. "What a clever Baby Daphne! When you finish that bottle, sweetie, pop your dummy back in your mouth and have a lovely suck. Pretend it's Mummy's nipple you're sucking on. I know how much that excites you! Sweet dreams, my precious baby!" When he drew nothing but air through the teat, David was jerked from his erotic reverie. He was in his crib at Nanna's place, and the whole family was visiting. He cast aside his empty bottle and it hit the floor with a noisy clatter. He scrabbled for the dummy clipped to his sleep- suit, clumsily steering the substitute nipple into his mouth instead. Recalling that day at Mummy's place made his clittie so hard, but there was nothing he could do about it. Although he knew it was futile, he pressed his padded fists against his equally-padded crotch. He whimpered around his dummy-teat in frustration and wriggled impotently in the crib, the plastic mattress protector rustling noisily under the fitted pink ballerina sheet. As if on cue, Mummy marched into the room. "Ah, good! You're awake!" Jane picked up the discarded bottle and placed it on the dresser, out of harm's way. "Time to get up, Baby Daphne." She trod on the release lever and lowered the steel bars, ordering, "Roll onto your side facing the wall, baby. Let Mummy unzip you. Gosh, look at how sweaty you are! My poor little girl must be melting!" She peeled the damp sleep-suit from his arms and legs, and he sighed in relief when his hands popped free of the restrictive mittens. "Climb down darling, and hop up on the change table. Let Mummy get you out of that saturated nappy." She didn't have to feel his nappy to know it was drenched. The front clung soddenly to his genitals and it hung heavily from his hips when he shakily climbed to his feet. Once he was lying on his back on the change table, Jane disappeared for a few minutes. She returned with a washcloth and a bowl of cold water, which she placed on the dresser near the change table. She removed his sodden nappy and heavy disposable, dumping them in the appropriate receptacles. "Here, baby. Let Mummy wipe you down." Jane wipe his whole body with a cool damp washcloth, and he was pathetically grateful for her kindness. The cool cloth felt so soothing on his poor sore bottom, and Mummy was being so loving and gentle. She made sure he was completely dry before rubbing in the powder, and he grew to full hardness in her teasing hands. He let his eyelids drift closed and sucked noisily on his dum-dums, and he didn't see his Mummy's condescending smile. Soon he was freshly diapered again and dressed in his pretty satin frock and frothy petties once more. Mummy showed him his saturated satin dress bib, clucking her tongue in remonstration. "This pretty satin bib is too wet to use again, sweetie. Let Mummy get you a clean one." The bib she took from the dresser drawer was made from baby-pink terry-towelling, with a white plastic backing. It had an attractive wide band of white Broderie-Anglaise lace trim around the outside edge and the neck hole. Jane held it up so he could read the embroidered inscription. In silk lettering two inches high were the words, 'Mummy's Little Dribble-Puss.' She clipped it around his neck and attached his dummy chain to the lacy collar, not bothering to hide her condescending smirk. "There you go, Pop that dum-dums back in your mouth and let me hear you suck. Louder, baby. That's it! Good girl! You know Mummy loves to hear you sucking nice and loud." After buckling his pink patent Maryjanes in place, Jane led her sissy baby out of the Nursery to join the other guests. "Come on, baby," she urged him. "Jessica and Zoe are waiting for you downstairs." His shrivelling clittie jerked in panic and he felt a blossom of warmth in his nappy. Jane escorted her baby girl into the living room and backed her into a saggy green vinyl bean bag on the floor. Sheila was focusing on Zoe and Jessica's faces as she made them up. David sat on the rustling bean bag, wee-wee still trickling out of his clittie, watching them warily. He couldn't help but notice as Sheila leaned forward in concentration, her tight mini rode up, until he could see the tops of her smooth shapely thighs. He was sitting slightly side-on to her, so he couldn't steal a glimpse of her panties - if indeed that were possible from this angle. He had always been one for peeping up skirts, and Sheila's long muscular legs and buxom figure were well worth admiring. 'I wonder what kind of panties she's wearing today?' The slight glow that comes from thinking about such naughty things infused his parts and his eyes turned glassy. Soon the girl's faces were done and they went bouncing off to show their Nanna. "Now it's you turn, Daphne," crooned Jane. "Come here and sit in front of Aunty Sheila." She noticed the direction of his hungry gaze and frowned, scolding him, "Oh stop trying to perve up your Aunty's skirt, you naughty thing!" Sheila laughed dismissively and pulled ineffectually at the hem of her tight woollen mini, adjusting her apparel to deal with David's depraved proclivities. Jane shook her head in disapproval and ordered him, "Tell Aunty Sheila about one of your favourite websites, Daphne - the one we looked at the other day, as part of your regular confessional. Go on, sweetie." Sheila looked at her sister questioningly and Jane explained. "We have regular reviews of the pages and pages of sissy-baby stuff I found on his hard drive. We're examining Baby Daphne's most-visited websites at the moment. Aren't we, sweetheart? One of them is a smutty little site called 'Upskirt.com." He had to explain to me why he visited it so often - something like 50 to 100 hits per week - and what he liked about the site, how much it cost to visit or join, etcetera. Do you know he was spending over fifty dollars a week on fem-dom porn and sissy-baby sites? Fifty bucks a week!" Jane's melodious tenor voice rose in disgust. "I make him show me his favourite pictures from those sites - most of which he'd already downloaded onto his hard drive. As he uses a company computer, I threatened to take it to Andrea - the Head of IT - if I didn't receive his full cooperation. He's not very keen on that idea." Jane's laugh was brittle. "I don't know why! Tell Aunty Sheila what you told me about 'Upskirt.com,' Daphne." David was looking straight into Sheila's mocking green eyes as she tightly gripped his chin to start the make-up session. He felt his cheeks going redder. He hated Jane reviewing his computer use. It made him feel dirty, disgusting and disloyal to think he'd spent so much time looking at porn. She knew all about his bizarre fascination somehow, and quizzed him at length about why a certain picture or site was particularly interesting to him. Mummy insisted on knowing what he liked and didn't like, and why he spent so much time looking at smutty material. She dragged out of him how much money he spent looking at porn each week. It was a shameful amount for a man who had a sexy, attractive young wife. The trouble was; he couldn't perform adequately in bed, and porn provided him a surreptitious much-needed release. He had to admit that Upskirt fuelled his sense of inferiority. He only looked at girls who wore panties, as though their flesh was unobtainable. They were sneaky stolen views of what he dare not aspire to sexually. His repeated failures in bed as a man had long ago destroyed any fantasies he might have once held, of engaging in regular sex with other women. Visiting Upskirt made him feel like the shameful little wanker he was! It took a lengthy interrogation session by Jane and some persistent questioning, plus several turns in the naughty corner before he confessed everything to Mummy. Jane insisted he tell Sheila. "Go on, baby," she commanded. Sheila grinned at his shame-tinged cheeks as she gave him cat's whiskers, firmly gripping his chin to stop him twisting his face away. He was desperate to avoid her contemptuous gaze. "I wike it becauthe it made me feel ashamed," he explained with burning red cheeks. "Coz I can't make wove properwy. I wike wooking at girlth' pwetty pantieth. That's why I'm a thithy baby." "Well you sure look like one, sitting there in your little frock and your pretty pink baby panties. I guess real girls don't want to have much to do with someone like you, either. Do they?" Sheila scathingly demanded. When she saw her sister smile and nod in encouragement, she added, ""I know you've always tried to perve up my skirts. Even Simon noticed. But somehow I don't think either of us care, anymore. After all, silly babies do all sorts of silly things. Don't they?" His eyes darted around the room, trying to avoid her scornful gaze. "I think when we've finished giving you a pussy cat face, you should go and apologise to Uncle Simon for always trying to peep up my skirts, and promise him you won't do it ever again." She turned to her sister. "What do you think, Jane?" "What a great idea," she snickered gleefully. David wanted to cry. How could he say something like that to Simon? Real men look up skirts because they plan to do something raunchy. He was saying it was because he liked to perve at girls' panties. He was inadequate; a sexual failure. The women seemed intent on humiliating him in front of his brother-in-law. More than having to apologise for shitting his nappy - if that were at all possible. Daphne sat there glazed-eyed and numb, thinking about all that had happened so far that day. The make-up session took a while, and Sheila grinned and chatted to Jane as she went about her task, ignoring the sullen toddler whose chin she clasped. When it was over, Jane escorted him with foot-dragging reluctance to the mirror in the hall at the foot of the staircase. He was horrified! Sheila had given him a stark white face fading off to a shaded area round the edges, enhanced with gold glitter, a tiny black button nose and cupid's bow lips, whiskers and black spots, finished off with big cat-like eyes. He looked like a perfect prat, not a cat! This make-up job on a small child would be fine, but on his adult face, it made him look ridiculous. Jane commanded, "Come and show Simon your face, Baby Daphne. You can tell him how sorry you are for perving up Aunty Sheila's skirt. Remember to call him Sir, and give him a lovely deep curtsey before you speak." She sensed Simon was enjoying David's discomfiture, and this was one more added twist. She pushed him ahead of her and gave him and encouraging swat on his padded rear. "Go on, little girl. Off you go!" Sheila had earlier informed Jane in an excited whisper, that she already had a very randy Simon on her hands, and he'd insisted she put the girls to bed as soon as they possibly could tonight. "He wants me in my schoolgirl uniform tonight," she confided, her emerald eyes sparkling with excitement. Jane was thrilled she wasn't the only one who found it arousing when she dominated and disciplined her infantile sissy husband. Simon was siting in the TV room watching the Grand Prix. He turned his head slowly as David toddled in. A look of incredulity washed over his face when he saw his brother-in-law still dressed as a toddler girl, his nappy as ever bulging out from under his pretty but rather over-the-top, too-short baby frock and bouncing petties. The shiny pink Maryjanes and frilly white anklet socks seemed to make the whole ensemble ultra-twee and feminine. But it was the make-up that made him look so childish and utterly stupid. 'How on earth can David let himself be treated like this?' mused Simon, glancing back at the screen, even as he sensed another shameful little performance was about to unfold. 'Maybe it really does turn him on?' David performed a deep curtsey and his wet nappy squeezed sensuously against his crotch. "Excuthe me Thir? Mummy thaid I mutht thay I'm thowwy, becauthe I wath alwayth peeking up Aunty Sheila'th thkirth - like I wath jutht now. I'm tho thowwy. I won't do it again." Simon, half watching the TV, couldn't understand David's squeaky lisping baby-babble. "What?" he demanded distractedly, letting his irritation show. "What did you say?" Poor David went redder under the make-up and he started to sweat; He performed another deep curtsey. As well as the wetness, he became aware of another stirring sensation deep inside his bowels - a full feeling, a heavy feeling. He knew what that meant! He needed to go to the potty for 'number twos' soon - big-time! The trouble was; there was no potty. Just a nappy; thick, fluffy, right there between his legs - keeping them apart so his hairless thighs were splayed helplessly wide. It was crisp, white and secure; wet, yes - but ready to safely receive a messy load when required. The shavings of chocolate Ex-lax and syrup of figs that Nanna had secretly, without even telling Jane, served in his portion of chocolate pudding, had passed totally undetected at lunch. But it was now silently doing it's work on his colon. He eventually summoned up the effort from somewhere to repeat himself. "Exthcuthe me, Thir; Mummy thaid I mutht thay I'm thowwy, becauthe I wath alwayth peeking up Aunty Sheila'th thkirth, like I wath jutht now. I'm tho thowwy, I won't do it again." At that moment Jones decided to pull in for a pit-stop. Simon ignored David completely and concentrated on the TV. David shuffled his feet in discomfort. He didn't know what to do. He was being so submissive, using his best sissy voice, calling his brother-in-law 'sir' - and Simon simply ignored him. Eventually when the drama on the race track eased, Simon glanced at David in annoyance and dismissively waved him away, even though he hadn't heard a word David had said. "Please don't bother me while the race is on, little girl!" Simon growled. "Go outside and play with the other children, baby." David was stunned by this off-hand rejection, and he toddled out of the lounge room, seething with anger and shame at Simon's casual dismissal. 'All that mental effort required to screw up the courage to curtsey and talk so babyishly, and he ignores me!' David, like many masochists - even when being humiliated - expected to be the centre of attention. Simon subconsciously realised that ignoring the sissy baby could be just as hurtful as laughing at him. Helen, Jane and Sheila were in the kitchen tidying up, and he could hear their giggling female voices. Paranoia made him assume their laughter had to be at his expense, and he wanted to quietly shuffle over and eavesdrop. But he had to do as Uncle Simon commanded. Uncle Simon was an adult; he was a baby girl. He continued his toddling wide-legged course out to the garden, where the other girls were playing in the Wendy house. His doll's pram was parked outside the conservatory, and he pushed it towards the children. As soon as they saw him, the pre-schoolers started to snigger, "Oh Baby Daphne! You look like a super-sweet pussy cat," giggled Jessica "I think he looks very silly," chirped Zoe with a cruel grin. "Don't be horrid! Come on Daphne, let's play. I bet your dolly needs her nappy changed. Come on!" David was soon kneeling on the rug outside the Wendy House busily changing Nancy's nappy, then it was Zoe's dolly's turn. Then Jessica decided that her doll needed changing as well, and Daphne should be the Nanny. Each one became involved in advising him how to properly take down the doll's rumba panties, remove the little disposable, and roll it up for disposal. They supervised while he wiped the area with some of his own wipes, before dusting her rubber crotch and bottom with powder and then finding a clean disposable and putting it on. The wipes and powder had to fetched from the living room, the doll's disposables had to located from various bags under the doll's strollers. The girls naturally sent David for all these things, so he was forced to toddle up and down, darting around the garden like a hyperactive child. He wanted to walk normally and talk without the lisp, but he didn't dare. His juvenile gait and effeminate mannerisms were slowly becoming a normal part of him. As before lunch, he started to lose himself in the girls' childish games, and he abandoned himself to them without any resistance or hesitation. To be continued in chapter 9. Please keep posting your comments here. I love to read and re-read your reviews. Thanks from Baby Jennie