Return To The Nursery Chap. 14 free porn video

Dear Baby Tammy, Carla, Sissy Katie and Suejrz, thank you for those lovely reviews, and I've taken your suggestions on board. Lost Soul - if you don't like this story, STOP READING IT! I can't believe someone would bother reading over 200 pages of a story they didn't like, just to keep criticising it. If your criticism had literary merit, I would take it on board. But you keep objecting to the basic storyline of this fem- dom sissy-baby fantasy. There are hundreds of other stories on this site catering to different fantasies, so read something else! Baby Jennie Chapter 14. Friends and Neighbours. The doorbell rang about five minutes later. They heard Emma letting herself in with her key, calling, "Hello? Hello everyone! I'm here!" Mummy left Daphne alone briefly to make a mess of her breakfast cereal, warm runny porridge spilling all over her face and bib. It was a constant feature of David's baby status that unless he was locked in his cot, highchair or playpen, he was never to be left on his own. Like a real baby, someone - usually a dominant female - was always on hand to keep an eye on him. This hammered home his dependence on the women in his life, and ensured there was never any respite from his need to think, act, talk, walk, and generally behave like a sissy baby. Or else! When Emma strode into the kitchen ahead of Mummy, Jane was already describing in detail her weekend and how Baby Daphne had 'misbehaved' at her mother's on Sunday. Daphne's cheeks burned when Mummy described how badly he'd pooped his nappies while everyone was there. She specifically mentioned Daphne's new clittie-cage, Jake's involvement and his present of the bonnets. The tall teenager laughed like a whinnying horse, bucking her shoulders and tossing her head till her straw locks flew about in disarray. Emma was wearing khaki cargo pants this morning, with pockets everywhere, teamed with a bright red long-sleeved t-shirt she revealed by peeling off her scuffed brown leather bomber jacket. From the drops of water hitting the kitchen tiles, David guessed it had started raining outside. Mummy grinned and waited until the Nanny recovered and hung up her jacket on the back of a chair before instructing, "Emma, make sure Daphne wears a bonnet at all times when she's out! I know Jake will ask me if she has. When you go to the hair salon today, make her wear one there, too. They may want to modify her new hairstyle a little to show off the bonnets to their best advantage. You are taking her this morning, right? It's Monday, and she's booked in for her regular appointment for a styling and a laser session?" Emma grinned and nodded. "That's right. Except it's an extra-long visit today. Remember what Isabell recommended?" "Oh yes! That's right!" Jane turned to David and chortled, "Sweetie, just think of it! You will have hours with all those cute young girls in the salon to chat to, you lucky thing! And you've got so much to tell them about! Your lovely Sunday at Nanna's, and all that's happened. I'm sure my friend Isabell will want to hear all your news, and especially what you think of Jake being my lover. Oh, and be sure to tell Aunty Isy about your little clittie-cage, and what it feels like to be finally chastised at last. She's been waiting for me to lock it on you for ages - ever since I told her I bought it for you!" Jane had been a regular patron of Isabell's for years. The women met when they were both in their late teens, and Isy was a junior in the salon Jane and her mother Helen always frequented. A year after she finished her apprenticeship, Isy moved out and opened her own salon, named 'Curl Up and Dye.' Like many satisfied clients, Jane followed the talented young stylist and remained a loyal customer - and became a good friend. Isabell now had eight stylists and four beauticians working full-time for her in a fashionable part of town. In keeping with her desire to keep the clientele limited to rich wives, professionals, and ladies who liked to lunch, they maintained a very elegant approach. All the attractive female staff dressed in a showy uniform of tight hot-pink hip-length tops - button-front blouses or boob tubes - with wide black belts cinching shapely waists. The look was completed by sexy tailored black short-shorts or tiny black stretch miniskirts, and sheer black tights over black heeled pumps. Full make-up was a job requirement. All the girls looked great, ranging from the stunningly good-looking to the absolutely gorgeous. Modern upmarket d?cor rounded off the effect Isabell wanted. It wasn't the cheapest place in town, but her salon had an enviable reputation for quality work. Jane had heard from the chatty staff that at times, cross-dressers frequented the salon, and she'd quizzed Isabell about the gossip. Jane learned it was true, and her friend had a sympathetic attitude to men who liked to dress up like women. It was natural then that Jane should broach the question of his hairstyle and hair removal with Isabell, the first day she decided to keep David as a sissy baby girl full-time. Happily the pretty blonde salon owner was enthusiastic about helping her best friend feminise and humiliate the diapered sissy. So David found himself in the salon a few days after Mummy first diapered him, dressed in a pair of too-short shortie bibbed overalls with a teddy bear motif on the bib pocket, desperately hoping his bulging nappies and frilly socks had escaped the notice of the tittering girls. David learned to hate his weekly visits to the salon with a passion. The initial visit had started off unassumingly, when Jane accompanied a cowering Daphne to Isabell's salon for the first time. He knew Mummy was taking him somewhere special, because she took more pains that usual that Monday morning to make herself look attractive. When Jane strode out of the bathroom she had a face painted with make- up, and she looked gorgeous - apart from her carelessly pulled back hair. She was wearing a full-cut pair of black satin panties and a pale- pink satin bra, her fleshy mounds bulging slightly over the tops of the shiny cups. He knew Mummy usually preferred her panties and bra to match, but the confusion only lasted till she slipped on her short black leather mini and teamed it with a pastel-pink long-sleeved cotton blouse. He was starting to regret letting Mummy talk him into playing 'Mummies and Babies' for the whole week while she was breastfeeding him last night. Jane decided not to bother with pantyhose and picked up her boots and sat on her vanity stool. She turned around to face her worried baby as she drew on her knee-high black leather boots. They had four inch heels and one-inch platform soles, so they were comfortable for walking around town in. When she raised each leg to zip closed the inside seam, Jane knew she was flashing her panty crotch at the hungry sissy sitting on her bed. 'Let her look,' Jane thought with a malicious smirk, as he tried to surreptitiously caress the bulging crotch of his shortalls. 'That's all my baby girl can do these days - look.' As soon as she was ready, Jane packed his diaper bag and hauled him towards the front door. As reluctant as he was to venture outside, at least he was wearing a clean dry diaper and unisex overalls - if way too short. Mummy took him to the hairdressers during the slack time early on Monday morning, when the salon usually wasn't busy. He was dressed in his baby- blue shortalls over a pastel-pink onesie, his pink sneakers and some lace-topped white anklet socks. He didn't resist too much when Mummy tightly gripped his hand and dragged him through the back door into the brightly-lit salon. He was terrified of attracting more attention to his ridiculous outfit, his crotch and bottom bulging with the bulk of his nappies. He was pleased that at first, no-one seemed to pay much attention to him or his juvenile appearance as Mummy marched him to the reception counter at the front. The pretty staff greeted Mummy with fond familiarity and smiled at him, giving him friendly little waves, but no-one laughed or jeered. David didn't know Mummy had made prior arrangements with Isabell, and the salon owner promised to make her staff try to ignore her sissy baby's odd appearance - at first. They'd been instructed to let Isabell take the lead, and then jump on the bandwagon. He kept his eyes on the black and white linoleum floor, trying to avoid the mirrors that seemed to be everywhere. Unfortunately for David, the very first time Baby Daphne sat down to have her hair washed, she had to lean back and tilt her head backwards over the porcelain basin facing the length of the salon. Unbeknownst to her, her shortalls legs rode up to reveal an inch or two of her yellow plastic panties, encasing an obvious thick terry nappy. When the bubbly junior finished washing David's hair, he sat up and he noticed Mummy's friend Isabell staring at his crotch from across the room. The salon owner smiled knowingly and apologised to her client before turning and walking his way. He glanced down and with a squeak of terror, saw what she'd been looking at. His face went bright red as he desperately tried to pull down his shortalls, giving away the game completely. Isabell sang, "It's alright, honey. You know me. Aunty Isabell. Remember?" Of course he knew her! She was one of Jane's best friends. Aunty Isabell indeed! "Don't worry. You just come with me." The attractive blonde smiled sympathetically at the embarrassed sissy baby as she helped him to his feet. Like any good hairdresser, Isabell chatted away and helped him relax while she settled him in the cutting chair - before she began quizzing him about his new lifestyle. "Jane tells me you've taken a break from work to be a little baby girl all the time? Is that right? Aww! What's wrong, honey? Are you shy? Don't you want to chat? I see you are already in nappies." She leaned over his shoulder and rudely patted his padded crotch through his shortalls, and he shrank away from her bold touch. "Do you only use them during the daytime, or at night too? Are you a bed-wetter, too? Those are such a pretty little dungarees you're wearing today! I love the teddy bear motif on the bib pocket!" He was grateful when Isabell covered his body with a semi-transparent, pink plastic smock. It was actually longer than his shortalls, covering half his trembling thighs. "Now how do we want our hair?" Mummy stepped forward to respond. Of course Isabell discussed with Jane how to style his hair, not him. Mummy was in clearly charge of him, and Mummy made all the decisions. It was one of the first times he had experienced the real shame of having something intensely personal to him discussed - but without his own input being considered, much less sought. He had to endure half an hour of Isabell trimming and styling his hair in the little-girl style Mummy had requested - all the while trying not to imagine what Jane had already told her close friend about his new sissy-baby lifestyle! But worse was yet to come. After his hair had been blow-dried, Isabell took his hand and led him towards a closed door at the far end of the salon. The manageress opened the white painted door and there were two grinning young women inside, standing beside a padded bench covered with white towels. There were two humming machines either side of the bench, and very bright spotlights aimed at the padded top. A grey wand - something like a portable blow drier - was attached by a piece of electrical cable to each machine, and he could see red LEDs glowing everywhere. "Girls, this is Baby Daphne," the owner introduced him. "Daphne, this is Eve and Anna." Eve had red hair the colour of old copper and alabaster skin, and almond-eyed Anna had long, dead-straight jet-black locks down to her waist, and dusky olive skin. David could feel Mummy standing right behind him and he dropped a hurried curtsey, as required. "Hewwo Mith Eve, hewwo Mith Anna." Both young ladies tittered at his feminine bow and sissy squeaky voice. "Hello Eve, Anna," Jane greeted the familiar staff from behind him. "My Baby Daphne is a sissy baby, and she wants to be baby-smooth from her ears down to the tips of her little toesies. Can you handle that?" "Of course!" Eve replied, examining the cringing sissy's bare arms and legs with a critical eye. "That's what we do," Anna added with a bright laugh. "There's one small problem," Isabell explained. David jumped when Mummy's hands reached over his shoulders to undo the shoulder straps of his juvenile baby-blue shortalls, then she pulled them down over his nappy. The attendants giggled and Isabell hid her smile when his bulging pink snap-crotch onesie was revealed, his yellow baby panties poking out the leg holes. Mummy made him step out of his shortalls and took off his pink sandshoes and his frilly white socks, then unclipped and removed his onesie. The diapered sissy cringed before the teenagers' bemused sniggers. "My baby can't stop wetting her panties, so we have to keep her in nappies night and day," Mummy explained, as she stuffed his clothes in the change bag she carried over her shoulder. "But I want you to remove every scrap of nasty old fur from my baby's diaper area. It's very unhygienic for a sweet little girl to have all that yucky old fur down there." David glanced over his bare shoulder and saw the door to the salon was still open, and several customers seemed to be leaning forward in their chairs and peering at their little group, trying to find out what was going on. Isbell took over and instructed the girls, "Do her legs first, then take off her plastic panties and undo her diaper to do her crotch and bottom. Give her the full Brazilian. That's all we'll have time for today. You can do her face, arms and chest next week." That was the first intimation David had that his salon appointments would become a weekly occurrence. "There's not much hair on her chest, except for a few tufts around her nipples. I advise you to keep the diaper under her at all times, by the way," Mummy recommended, her tone intentionally patronising. "Baby Daphne really has the bladder control of an excitable two-year-old. I wouldn't trust her for a minute." Isabell turned to her friend. "Okay, we have to leave them now. We can't stay in here while the girls are using the lasers. Your baby has to wear a blindfold, and the girls have to wear special goggles so they don't go blind." "A blindfold, you say?" Jane inquired, her smile turning sly. Eve held up a thick black cotton sleep mask with wide elastic band to go around the wearer's head. "One of these." "Oh, I've got a much better idea." Jane was standing behind Daphne so the little sissy couldn't see Mummy briefly hoist up her tight black leather mini. Jane swiftly pulled down her full-cut satin panties, and let them slide down her shiny leather boots to bunch around her ankles while she wriggled her skirt back into place. She daintily stepped out of the satin puddle, bent down and scooped up her fallen knickers, and tossed them to Eve. "Put those over my sissy baby's face before you put her blindfold on, will you? I'm sure you'll love the effect." All the women tittered in amusement. Mummy kissed the horrified baby's cheek and sang, "Bye-bye, Baby Daphne! Mummy has to go do some shopping. It seems I need to buy some new knickers. Don't worry, honey. I know which ones you like best. I'll be back in - how long do you think she'll need, Isy?" "About an hour. Come back then." "One hour, baby. You be a good girl for Aunty Isabell and the girls. She'll be giving me a full report later. Remember your carrots and sticks." David held out his hands to her like a frightened child, fingers clutching at nothing as he squealed, "No Mummy? But- but - pweathe Mummy? No?" He knew he was wetting himself in fear, but there was no point trying to stop it. That's what his nappies were for. Jane simply tossed him careless smile and a childish wave farewell and marched out of the room with her grinning friend. Mummy took his clothes with her and Isabell closed the door behind them, leaving the panicky sissy baby in the clutches of her willing accomplices. The girls ordered the frightened big baby to climb up on the narrow padded bench. He lay on his back, resting on his elbows and warily watching the smirking beauticians. The door opened before Eve could decide between the shimmering black panties in one hand, or the sleep mask she clutched in the other. Isabell held up one hand. "Toss me those knickers." She neatly caught the flying underwear and opened the waistband wide, and slipped the fragrant lingerie over the stunned sissy's face. "Keep still, baby," she sternly commanded when he tried to duck his head. Isabell centred the cotton gusset right over the whimpering sissy's nose and mouth, and used a plastic hairclip to keep the waistband in place around his neck. She ordered Eve, "Put the mask over the top," David's world went completely dark. Suddenly the aroma of Mummy's panty crotch seemed much stronger, and he inhaled deeply, finding her familiar musky scent almost calmed his jangling nerves. "There baby," Isy crooned to the temporarily blind lad, patting the tenting front of his baby panties. The boss grinned and nodded to her staff when she could feel how excited he was. "That'll make the job easier." To Daphne she sang, "Isn't that nice? Now you just lie back, little girl, and let the girls do their work." He meekly lay back and the girls touched and moved his legs, each one doing something unseen to him with a heated wand. Even with the double blindfold in place, David thought he caught a hint of a bright flash of light every fifteen seconds or so. They slowly worked their way up from his shins to the tops of his thighs. After about fifteen or twenty minutes, the girls ordered him to roll over. He obeyed, clumsy as he couldn't see a thing, and one of the women straightened him out on the narrow table. They did the same thing to the backs of his legs, all the way up to the leg elastics of his baby panties, and then they ordered him to roll over again. "Lift that bottom, baby." He obeyed the oft-heard instruction automatically, even though he didn't know which girl gave it to him. He felt his baby panties being tugged down and the sweet voice sang, "Botty down and lift those footsies. Good baby!" They tugged away his crinkling plastic panties and when he let his feet drop, his knees flexed and his bare feet slid up towards his bottom, in the normal position to have his nappy changed. He lay there shivering in fearful anticipation as they unpinned his cloth nappy and lowered the front flap to expose his yellowed disposable. "I can see why your Mummy keeps you in nappies," one of the girls disdainfully commented. "Look how wet you are!" He lay there blind and anxious as he heard the tapes being ripped apart. When they lowered the soggy front flap and laughed, he cringed in humiliation. At least he couldn't see the contemptuous expressions on their faces when they caught sight of his tiny erection. "Well that explains a lot," one of the girls commented scathingly. "Do you think that's as big as it gets?" the other asked. "What do we care? Just wipe it clean with those baby wipes and get started on the shaft while it's still hard. You heard the boss. It makes the job easier. I can see a few bits of stubble near the base there. See?" He felt his equipment being carelessly manhandled, turned this way and that, which only made him harder. Flash! Warmth. Flash! Warmth. Then the odd, slightly painful sensation of having his ball sack stretched taut. Flash! Warmth. Flash! Warmth. "Keep still, little one," a disembodied voice ordered. "We're almost finished here, then we can do your tummy." The wands face grew warmer as they zapped his crotch, all the way up to his belly button. "Okay, roll over onto your tummy again." He speedily obeyed, anxious to hide his uncontrollable erection under his body. He pressed his hard clittie into the damp wadding underneath him, and the wet patch was disturbingly cool. The women lasered his bare buttocks and then ordered the cowering sissy onto all fours. "Knees apart, and put your forehead on the table," a stern female voice ordered. "That's right. Now reach back with both hands, and pull your bumcheeks apart. Go on!" When he reluctantly followed their humiliating instructions, his cheeks blushed rosily when someone observed, "We'll have to wipe off all this powder first. Stay like that, baby." He felt his sensitive rosebud being carefully wiped several times with a cool moist wipe, and he heard one of the girls comment, "At least she's got a clean bum." "That's a first," the other retorted. "The last couple of dozen women I've given bikini laser to, obviously hadn't been shown how to wipe their bottoms correctly after doing a poo." Her tone was intentionally cloying when she cooed, "Daphne's a good baby girl for keeping her bot- bot clean." "I don't think she's exactly responsible," her associate disdainfully sniffed. "She's just a baby. I think her Mummy probably wipes her bum after she's done her business in her nappy - just like any other baby." As soon as they finished they switched off the humming machines, removed their goggles and ordered him to roll over. He lay back with the wet diaper squelching under his bum, so cold and clammy now. The ammonia smell of a well-used diaper drifted up to his nose, mingled with the scent of powder. "Stay there," one of the girls ordered before he heard her open the door. She didn't seem to care the blindfolded sissy was lying naked on the bed on top of a wet diaper, with a pair of Mummy's used panties wrapped around his head. He sighed in relief at the sound of Mummy's happy voice. "Oh good!" Jane cried in delight. "You're finished! Right on time, too. Well done, girls! Did Baby Daphne give you any trouble?" He felt a hand stroking his legs and pawing at his genitals, and he assumed it was Mummy. "No ma'am! She was a very good baby girl." The women discussed his schedule of appointments while Mummy pulled the sodden disposable out from under him, cleaned him with moist wipes front and back, and taped a fresh diaper over his hips. He was semi-hard to begin with, but by the time she rubbed in the powder, he was rock-hard again. Apparently he was booked to come in every week on Monday morning for the conceivable future, and the beauticians would alternate between the top and bottom halves of his body fortnightly. Mummy agreed with the schedule as she pinned a clean nappy around him, and she replaced his yellow baby panties before she asked the girls to remove the mask. When she removed her fragrant knickers from his head, Daphne blinked blindly in the bright lights. He didn't see Mummy tucking her damp panties into the change bag. Jane dressed him in his onesie and shortalls, put his frilly socks on his feet and tied on his sneakers with the pink ribbon laces, and then helped her baby to clumsily stand. David couldn't understand why Jane had made future bookings for him. He had to go back to work next week. He was still puzzling over the apparent contradiction as they led him to the front desk. He barely said a word in farewell when Mummy led him from the salon. He was punished for that later. Mummy took him back to the salon the following Monday morning for a repeat session, but after that it became Nanny's responsibility. Over time it became more and more obvious to the salon staff that Baby Daphne was totally under Jane's thumb, with her authority vested in Nanny Emma. The girls started to gently tease him, loving the blushes colouring his cheeks when they asked, "Are those terry or disposable nappies I can see under your baby panties today, Baby Daphne?" Or "What pretty dresses have you worn lately, little girl? Describe them to me." Or the oft-crooned question, "Aww! Does baby need her dum-dums?" Isabell had been surprised how easily her trendy young staff lapped it up. Once they learned the masochistic sissy was actually aroused by being teased and humiliated, they escalated the treatment. Indeed they started discussing his effeminate baby lifestyle with some of the more liberal female customers during the other days of the week. Unsurprisingly this caused more curiosity than offence. A handful of women even changed their bookings to be in the salon at the same time as Daphne, so they could quietly observe for themselves this girly little sissy-boy being feminised and publicly humiliated. Jane delighted in handing over the role of taking him to the salon to Emma the Nanny, who had a vastly higher threshold of embarrassment. Nothing seemed to shame Emma! The Nanny was much more relaxed than Mummy about hauling around her effeminate diapered sissy in public. When Isabell hinted to the Nanny that the girls might like to see him in a dress sometime, rather than the juvenile shortalls he always wore, Emma willingly agreed to ask his Mummy for permission. So far that had been denied, to David's relief. After that momentous Sunday at Nanna's, Mummy informed Nanny that David was to be taken each week in full baby girl attire for his salon appointments, which would now include manicures and other beauty treatments, as well as his remaining laser depilatory sessions. Emma was delighted! Although there wasn't much hair to remove any more. He was pretty much hairless as a baby. Nanny had already arranged an added surprise for him this morning, in collaboration with Jane and Isabell. The unexpected bonus of the double terries and the bonnet were simply icing on the cake. David would hate his next trip to the salon with a passion. Jane was busy telling Emma the other little tasks she wanted David to do today, as well as writing the nice 'thank you' letter to Jake for the bonnets - an idea that had Emma in fits. Jane reminded her, "Don't forget to have baby hand-wash all my undies." There was nothing unusual in that, but she then added, "and Jake's as well. They are Calvin Klein silk boxers, and the must not be machine-washed." She smiled wolfishly at him as she instructed his Nanny, "Have Daphne hang them up on the line next to my knickers, so they can be freshly aired together." She patted the side of his tray to attract his attention. "Oh, and put fresh cotton sheets on Mummy's bed for tonight, my little baby. You want my lover to enjoy clean fresh sheets when he next makes love to me, don't you? Good girl!" "Is Jake coming back tonight?" Emma asked, glancing at Daphne's expression of anguish with a callous smile. She had large white teeth, which Daphne unkindly thought added to her horsey appearance. "Not tonight, no," Jane replied. "I have a couple of friends dropping by - Fiona, our head of security, and a girlfriend of hers - kind of a therapist." "A therapist?" Jane nodded and glanced at the messy-faced baby. "I've asked Baby Daphne where her peculiar fascination stems from, and she says she'd not really sure. I'd like to know the truth. This friend of Fiona's is supposedly good at delving into the subconscious mind." Emma looked thoughtful and muttered, "Oh." "I'll tell you about it later. When I get home tonight. Okay?" David ignored the discussion about the therapist. Mummy had told him she was coming to visit a few days ago. He thought about the tasks Mummy had set him instead, and shuddered. How could he wash Jake's underwear and then hang them out on the line next to Mummy's lovely lingerie? Mrs. Paula Parker next door, a right nosey-parker he thought, loved to wander out at inopportune times to watch him while he was hanging the washing on the line every morning. The beefy forty-something liked to smirk and tease him while he stood there, his dress and petties flying in the breeze, pegging up his nappies, plastic panties, bibs and petticoats, and other paraphernalia of his sissy baby life. She was bound to ask who owned the men's boxer shorts, as she would know they couldn't possibly belong to David. Jane had been stunned - and relieved - at how readily her next-door neighbour had accepted David's conversion to sissy babyhood. She dropped over to Paula's on Friday evening while David was away on his last business trip, a bottle of chilled Chardonnay gripped in her hand to help soften the blow. She knew Paula's teenage daughters had gone out for the night, leaving them alone. Jane broached the matter delicately at first, worried how the forty-four-year-old would handle the appearance of her husband prancing around in the back yard dressed in his baby girl clothes. "Oh no!" Paula cried in sympathy, after Jane told her that David liked to dress up as a little girl. "Not you too?" "What do you mean? Not you, too?" Jane took a huge gulp of wine and almost choked. Paula grimaced and shook her head, making her brunette curls bounce around her plump round cheeks. "You've been living next door for three years, and I never told you. My ex-husband is a transvestite." She similarly took a healthy swig of wine and swallowed noisily. "What?" "I know. What a drag, huh?" Paula barely managed a smile at the tired old joke. "But seriously; that's why we got divorced. I caught him mincing around in my underwear when I came home unexpectedly one day, and he'd been trying on all my favourite frocks." "You poor thing!" Jane grimaced and shook her head in sympathy. Paula sighed and shrugged her broad shoulders in careless dismissal, her huge breasts heaving noticeably inside her baggy grey sweatshirt. "It's okay. We actually get on much better, now that we're divorced. He was generous husband - and that didn't change. He always paid over and above the set child-support, and willingly looked after the girls every second weekend and half the holidays. Well, until they got too grown-up to want to go away with their dear old dad. He never minded if I had to call him in to look after the girls unexpectedly, if I needed to go out somewhere. He was a pretty good dad, really - if it wasn't for his fetish." Jane hesitated for a long time before asking her next question. "How long? How long did you stay married after you found out about his - his fetish?" "Over two years," Emma replied, topping up their glasses, "nearly three. Even though I tried to be accepting, we always had to careful around the girls. Although they found out eventually. I warned him they were nosey, and they'd go poking through his wardrobes while they stayed at his flat. While we were still married, it was like living with a needy demanding girlfriend, sometimes. Tammy was always wanting me to strap on a dildo after the girls were safely asleep in bed, and fuck her up the arse." "Your girls found out? Tammy?" Jane tried to imagine the pleasantly- plump matron wearing a strap-on cock, and mentally reeled in shock, like sensory overload. Paula gave a rich throaty chuckle. "His name is Tim. Timmy. When he's in drag, Tammy. What is your sissy's femme name?" "Baby Daphne." Paula laughed. "That is so cute!" She pursed her lips in thought before asking, "Does your sissy like it up the arse, too?" When Jane looked confused and shook her head uncertainly, her forthright neighbour explained. "I have a collection of strap-on dildos I use on Tammy - when she's been good. They come in a variety of sizes, from one about a bit longer than my middle finger, although twice as thick - to one ten-inch monster I wouldn't dare let a man put in my pussy! It's thicker than my wrist at the thickest part, near the base." Paula curled her right thumb and fingers around her left wrist in indication, and Jane's eyebrows climbed her forehead. Her neighbour wasn't a dainty woman, and she was thick- boned. "And you use it on your ex-husband?" Jane queried. "Still?" Paula cackled and replied, "Sure! Just because we're divorced, doesn't mean we can't be great friends - and occasional fuck-buddies." Her hazel eyes were unblinking as she watched her pretty neighbour swallow that morsel of information with another gulp of wine. When Jane seemed to have recovered her wits, Paula blithely sailed on. "Tim's an accountant, and he still does my taxes and keeps an eye on my accounts once a month. When he's done a particularly good job - or if I'm feeling horny - Tammy gets to dress up for me, and I give her a nice, long, hard reward. I like to think of it as a little incentive scheme." "How does that satisfy you?" Jane asked. "Using a strap-on dildo, I mean?" "Not much," Paula confessed with a shrug, "although I do find it very arousing to dominate my submissive sissy and make him my bitch. But before I buckle on a rubber cock, I make my Tammy go down on me for about half an hour, like the good little lesbian lover she is. Now that I find satisfying!" "Me too!" Jane dimpled in agreement. "My little girl has a talented tongue, and Mummy is going to enjoy teaching her how to use it properly." Paula chuckled and tilted her head in the direction of her bedroom. "Do you want to come and see my collection of sex-toys? You can borrow some if you like, to try out on your little girl. Anytime!" "I'd love to have a peek," Jane admitted with a self-deprecating grin, placing her empty glass on the coffee table. "Although I'm afraid my little girl is far too young to think about having sexual intercourse yet. She wants to be a really little girl - about two years old." "Oh dear! Come and have a look anyway. You might see something to inspire you." Paula led the intrigued young woman into her bedroom, steaming ahead like a battleship, and she opened the bottom drawer of her chest of drawers and invited the stunned blonde to kneel and inspect the contents. "How long ago - when did your girls find out about their father? You know? His dressing up?" Jane hesitantly asked, as she handled a flesh- coloured dildo the size of a real man's cock. There were black leather harnesses and thick bondage cuffs in the drawer, distracting her. The latex tool was so thick and heavy, and when she tried to wrap her fist around it, her thumb and fingertips wouldn't meet. "About two years ago. We've been divorced for a little over six years - since Amy turned twelve. She's eighteen now, and Charlene is almost seventeen." Jane dropped the solid fake phallus back in the drawer and picked up a long black dildo, thinking, 'This must be the one Paula uses on Tammy. My God! It's massive! Look at the size of it! I'd like to see that in action one day!' "You can, if you like." It was only after Paula responded that Jane realised she must have spoken her thoughts aloud. She tossed the black rubber cock back in the drawer with a guilty start. "It's okay," Paula added soothingly. "My sissy Tammy is a bit of an exhibitionist. She loves being dominated in front of another woman. It really gets her rocks off." "My baby is an exhibitionist, too, I believe," Jane responded. "And a submissive masochist. Apparently she gets off on being publicly humiliated." "How do you feel about that?" Paula carefully asked. Jane grimaced and shrugged her shoulders. "I don't mind, I guess. As long as I'm not the one being humiliated. That's not my fantasy." "Nor mine." Paula closed the toy drawer with her foot and asked, "How can I be of help, Jane?" "My sissy baby likes to wear cloth nappies and plastic panties - and use them like a real baby," Jane replied, blushing with shame as she made her admission. She kept her burning face down as she climbed to her feet. Paula frowned and shook her head, clucking her tongue in sympathy. "Oh my goodness! What a lot of work for you! Aw! Don't be embarrassed, honey. It's not your fetish - or your fault. You're just trying to cope with an unexpected marriage dilemma." They returned to the lounge room and the remains of the bottle of wine. "I know," Jane agreed with a sigh of resignation, watching as her friend freshened her glass. "There's going to be so much washing! But at least my baby will be in charge of the laundry from now on. She'll have to wash her own nappies and baby things, and hang everything on the line." The beefy brunette nodded in sudden understanding. "Ahh! You mean she'll have to hang everything out on the line in the back yard - where we can see her?" "Exactly!" Jane beamed at her clever neighbour. Paula was quick on the uptake. This was progressing far better than she'd expected. Paula smiled as she imagined meeting the sissy baby while he was hanging up his freshly-laundered nappies and baby pants. She knew exactly how to humiliate effeminate men who loved to play dress-ups like small children. She knew how much it excited her ex-husband when she scolded him for being a naughty little slut. It only made his dick get harder in his little panties. "How would you like me to deal with Baby Daphne?" Paula asked, letting her excitement show. "I'm happy to help you humiliate her, if that's what gets her rocks off . Tell me what you'd like me to say. Which buttons to push. And do you want Amy and Charlene to get involved? They're very mature for their ages, and thanks to their father, pretty familiar with trannies and the fetish world already. I know my daughters would love to help, I assure you - and sarcasm and scorn are their natural fall-back settings, anyway." They spent several hours - and another bottle of crisp Chablis - discussing various scenarios and how much they dared involve Paula's teen daughters. Paula actually produced a pen and took notes, although Jane wasn't sure if they would be legible later. Sometimes they were laughing so hard, the heavyset brunette couldn't stop her hand from shaking while she scribbled down ideas. By the time Jane staggered home, the women were fast friends, and their friendship only deepened when Paula took an active hand in her sissy's baby training and humiliation. Now that she and Paula were good friends, Mummy encouraged Emma to ensure that her baby spent plenty of time outside in the back garden, where of course he felt more vulnerable than inside the house. He was always sent out there wearing whatever he'd been wearing around the house, so Mrs Parker had seen him in most of his baby girl finery. The busybody was always sure to pop her head over the fence and start an embarrassing conversation with Daphne or Emma, to find out what the sissy baby had been up to lately and learn what new little-girl lifestyle activity he'd been forced to pursue. Mummy stopped and turned back to her bound baby in the highchair. "Oh! I nearly forgot! Jake was so excited last night, he ripped that lovely black Basque off my body and tore out some the hooks. I'm sure it can be mended, sweetie. Why don't you and Nanny take it into the shop where I bought it; 'La Perla' in the High Street, and see if it can be repaired? It's not far from the hairdressers." Emma was grinning hugely as possibilities for more torment for David emerged. Jane went on; "Now Emma, Daphne is going to Nanna's on Thursday this week, rather than Friday - because on Friday afternoon, she will be visiting Aunty Sheila's for a sleepover with her girls." David jerked in alarm in his bonds. "The girls have some friends coming round after school, and they want to put on a little show the next morning. Maybe a ballet, or something? You know how artsy my sister is? When Daphne does her ballet practise this afternoon, will you make sure her tutu is spotless?" "So Baby Daphne is going to her Nanna's on Thursday and her Aunty Sheila's on Friday?" Emma questioned. "I could work Saturday or Sunday, to make up for my missed day, if you like?" Her long face creased in thought. "Why don't you and Jake take a long weekend?" she suggested. "I'm sure Helen wouldn't mind babysitting for you on Saturday, and I can drive over and pick Daphne up on Sunday morning, and bring her home to look after her here." "What a great idea!" Mummy exclaimed, her beautiful face lighting up. "Thanks, Emma! Let me see what I can arrange at work today. I'll ring Mum, and see if she's available - and willing - to look after my big baby girl one day over the weekend." Emma glanced at David, who was close to tears. He thought yesterday had been a horrible experience, but this week was shaping up to be an absolute nightmare! He cringed in the highchair restraints. How could he go out in public dressed like a baby girl? The hair salon was bad enough, but the thought of visiting an upmarket lingerie store? Men always felt awkward in such places, and David was no exception - but he would be dressed in a toddler frock and nappies! He had to resist somehow, but then he realised - if he ever wanted to be freed from his clittie-cage by Mummy or Nanna, he had to behave. As ever, any show of resistance risked compromising the minor concessions Daphne desperately needed. Jane looked at her watch and cried, "Must go! I'm running late for work! Have a wonderful day with Emma, baby, and give my love to Aunty Isabell when you see her. No, I can't kiss you, baby. Your face is too mucky." She leaned over the highchair tray, noisily kissing the air either side of his grubby cheeks. "Love you, baby! Be good! Bye Nanny!" Blowing him a farewell kiss with that radiant red-lipped smile he so adored, Mummy spun on her high heels and with a sashaying wiggle left the house. As her car revved in the driveway, Emma started to wipe his face and get him ready for the day's planned activities. She removed his plastic coverall bib and threw it on the tiled floor to be collected later. More laundry for him to do. Nanny clipped a clean lace-edged dribble bib around his neck, and he didn't even bother reading the embarrassing inscription. They were soon standing outside the master bedroom. David as usual didn't proceed inside, waiting until Emma granted him permission. The room was untidy, the bed clothes rumpled and heaped. Jane had left her discarded clothing higgledy-piggledy all over the place; Jake's charcoal-grey silk boxer shorts were carelessly tossed to one side, on top of Mummy's crusty panties. It was obvious they had enjoyed themselves, as Emma snorted, "Well, we know what Mummy got up to last night! Don't we, baby girl?" With cruel intent she demanded, "What is it like to know your wife makes love to another man? Do you mind that it's someone who used to work for you? Not that it matters much, I guess." David remained silent, his expression downcast. Emma laughed in scorn. She picked up the silk shorts and threw them at David, who caught them by reflex. "Show them respect. You know what to do, Daphne. Put them to your face and savour a real man's musk" She watched as he submissively pressed Jake's crumpled underpants to his face and listened to him inhale. "Big breaths, Daphne," Nanny insisted. "Through your nose. Nice and deep now. That's better. Now spit out your dum-dums and lick them, front and back," she commanded. "Lick your wife's lover's shorts! Smell him, taste him, and imagine what he was doing to your Mummy last night!" David silently obeyed, whimpering at the biting sting inside his wet nappy. Emma watched him, always amazed at just how low submissive masochists could sink when pressed. She never got used to it, and she felt her kitten getting moist with excitement. "That's enough." She rudely snatched the boxers from his hands and threw him Jane's discarded panties instead. He clumsily caught them, clutching the delicate lingerie to his bosom. "Smell them!" Emma commanded. "Smell how excited your Mummy gets when she's with him!" He pressed Mummy's panties to his face and inhaled deeply, trying not to get aroused by the familiar much- loved scent. "Put them in your mouth and suck them. Go on! Oh good girl! That's right, the cotton gusset is the tastiest bit, isn't it! Oh, look at you!" She sniggered in disdain as he writhed and whimpered in pleasure/pain, fighting to keep himself flaccid. The taste of Mummy's juices was so strong, the smell overwhelming! "Keep them in your mouth until we reach the laundry," Emma commanded. "Now gather up everything that has to be washed and separate them into machine and hand-wash piles. Then strip Mummy's bed, make it up with fresh sheets, and bring everything downstairs." Nanny clapped her hands loudly, making him jump. "Look lively, you have ten minutes - or you will feel the sting of the paddle on the backs of your thighs and earn some sticks, as well." David wanted to linger in the bedroom, the room where he used to sleep with Jane. The taste and smell of her was almost overpowering. He fought to remain flaccid. Mummy's bedroom was so feminine, so her, and despite himself he loved her - but he dared not loiter and risk losing precious points that could count towards his release sometime in the future. He hurried to finish the tasks Nanny had set, gasping wetly around the tasty panties stuck in his craw. A little while later he stood on a set of low child's steps in front of the high laundry sink doing the hand-washing, fondling Mummy's lovely panties in the soft lux soap bubbles. The wooden steps were painted pink with a childish rhyme printed on them in baby-blue: 'These little steps help me reach the things I couldn't; And all the things I shouldn't.' The effect was to put him in the same place as a small child who cannot reach sinks and work tops, and he always had to use them to help him perform any grown-up task - like washing up. As Emma noted, it also stopped the baby running off when he'd finished, as he always had to ask for permission to climb down. He sucked his dummy as he hummed his Nursery rhymes, trying to avoid becoming aroused while he handled Mummy's fragrant delicates. He finished hanging the washing on the line and Jane's intimate briefs danced in the breeze, their soft feminine sensuality contrasting with Jake's manly boxer shorts, blatant evidence of their recent dalliance. Mrs Parker appeared seemingly out of nowhere and called out, "Hello poppet! Are you being Mummy's little helper today and hanging up the washing like a good little girl? Hello, hello! What are those, little girl? Are you hanging up boxer shorts? They can't belong to a sissy baby like you! Who do they belong to? Hmm? Tell Aunty Paula, Baby Daphne." Daphne had no idea that Mummy or Nanny always rang or texted the nosy neighbour whenever he was sent outside, so she could join in the fun of teasing and humiliating the little sissy. Blushing furiously, David had to greet the ghastly woman. "Hewwo Aunty Pauwa. They belong to Mummy'th boyfwiend." She already knew he had to refer to Jane as Mummy all the time. "He came awound last night, and they wocked me in my cot, then they went into the big bedwoom and did fingth togevver," he admitted, his face burning with shame. He didn't realise Emma had strolled outside to witness his humiliation. "Did they now?" Mrs Parker chortled, her squinting hazel eyes full of disdain. "That must make you proud? What's your bib say today, baby? Turn and face me so I can read it. Ohh! 'Little Miss Squishy-Britches!' That's very descriptive!" She burst into mocking laughter. Although the fence was two metres high on their side, the top of the palings were only a metre above their neighbours well-manicured lawn. The beefy woman leaned over the low boundary and when she laughed heartily, her massive breasts danced inside her red sweater - like two ferrets fighting in a gunny sack. David sensed Emma behind him before she prompted, "What else are you so proud of today, Baby Daphne? Tell Aunty Paula." "Er, er, Mummy hath put me in a chathtity-belt - a cwittie-cage - and Uncle Jake hath the key." He minced his words in red-faced shame. Mrs Parker shook her head in disbelief and threw him a look dripping with contempt. She saved her smiles for Emma. "I suppose it had to come," she callously observed, her thick top lip curled in a sneer. "Serves the nasty little sissy right! That'll stop her playing with herself all the time. We all know what useless little sissies are like. Don't we?" David was terrified of her! Paula was one of the few women who always treated him with contempt - and her teenage daughters were even worse. Most women mixed teasing with laughter, but Mrs Parker and her girls seemed to hold him in special disdain. She always had a look in her cold hazel eyes that said she was thinking of doing horrible things to him. The trouble was; he had to be perfectly polite to her and her daughters, like he was to any friends of Mummy's. "Yeth Aunty Pauwa," he muttered dispiritedly. "Come on, little girl!" Nanny urged him with a crisp swat on the botty, making him jump. Even though he barely felt it, the sound of her broad palm striking his tautly-stretched plastic panties was startlingly loud. "Hurry up! You have a 'thank you' letter to write to Uncle Jake before Nanny takes you to the hairdressers. Remember? Give Mrs Parker a nice deep curtsey and say bye-bye." "Bye-bye Aunty Pauwa." "Goodbye Baby Daphne. Be a good girl for your Nanny." "Bye Mrs Parker." Emma grinned at her co-conspirator and escorted her sissy charge back into the house for more shame and humiliation. This latest idea of Jane's sounded like lots of fun. She sat him down in the downstairs playroom where he had a little white plastic child's desk and two matching chairs. Unlike much of his baby environment, the fragile desk hadn't been up scaled to adult size. He perched at the low table, feeling uncomfortable. Even though he was a tiny adult, his big diapered bottom didn't quite fit on the small plastic seat. He crouched awkwardly over the ridiculously low wobbling surface. Emma was good at making things in the 'Blue Peter' style. (for non-UK readers; Blue Peter was an iconic children's programme where the presenters were always making things out of cartons and cardboard packets. Think Playschool.) He had to first cut up a piece of plain pink cardboard with plastic scissors and fold it in half, as Nanny said she wanted him to make a real sissy 'thank you' card to send to Jake. She then had him write 'To Uncle Jake - the real MAN of the house' in different coloured crayons across the top of the card with his left hand. The writing had to be clumsy and juvenile, bunched at the end and mimicking the hand of an unlettered two-year-old. Nanny then suggested a self-portrait drawing of him standing in his cot looking towards a closed door; intended to represent the Nursery door. "Use your right hand, this time," she allowed. David worked hard and carefully at this new task, knowing that sloppy work would result in it all being torn up. Then he would have to start all over again. He'd excelled at art at school and in the marketing courses at University. He eventually achieved a reasonable result; half-child, half-adult in quality. A crayon drawing of him standing, diapered, bibbed, bonneted, in a nightie in his cot, half turned looking wistfully at the closed door where obviously the action was happening. On the door he had to write 'To Mummy's room' with an arrow. On the inside he had to draw a full-face picture of himself from a photo on Nanny's phone - one of him in a his purple baby frock with a prominent dummy partially obscuring his easily recognisable features. Emma came in and inspected his work from time to time, nodding in purse- lipped approval. "Now what shall we write on the inside to caption your pretty drawing?" He didn't want to think. "I know! 'This baby only wets with his!' and underneath that, 'Fank you so much Uncle Jake, for my lovely baby bonnets. Kisses from a real sissy, Baby Daphne'. How does that sound?" When he finished the humiliating assignment, Emma disappeared to find a large manila envelope. She took the opportunity to place a quick call to Jane, and when the Nanny returned, she had another horrid suggestion for Daphne. "Pop it in this envelope and we'll send it to your Uncle Jake at his office. Isn't that a good idea? He doesn't go home very often these days, and it is so nice to get a lovely surprise in the post." David could only think of one thing: Marilyn his former secretary would almost certainly open the mail and see this final confirmation of his sissy status. He couldn't let that happen. "Pweathe Nanny, no potht it? Can I give it to him mythelf? Pweathe? Pweathe Nanny?" He looked so pathetic sitting at that tiny desk, upturned face full of concern as he pleaded around his dummy. His Nanny sidled closer, bent down and nuzzled his baby-smooth cheek, and quietly confirmed his fears. "No sissy, your Mummy wants it to go to Uncle Jake's office at her company - so that's where it goes," she whispered in his ear, gloating a little. She stood back to observe his reaction and carelessly shrugged her broad shoulders. "Sorry sweetie." She could see a temper-tantrum brewing and wagged a warning finger at him; "Don't start with me! You don't want to start a three-hour session at the hair salon with a sore botty, do you?" "Nanny! Nanny no?" Three hours? "Pweathe no? Hith thecwetawy might thee it." He lapsed into his most babyish lisp in a vain attempt to curry favour. "Pwetty pweathe, Nanny?" "Yes, so she might! I hadn't thought of that!" Emma lied. "To give you an idea of what she might think, shall we take it to the salon later and show it to Aunty Isabell before we post it? That's a good idea, isn't it? Don't you think? You can take it and show your Aunty Isy first. What a splendid thought! See what she and the rest of the girls in the salon think. Okay?" As ever protesting had only worsened his plight, and he bit back a wail of anguish. Emma was far from finished with this letter writing caper. "Now then, David." He looked startled at the rare use of his proper name, and he almost dropped his dum-dums. "We have a lovely little letter from Daphne to Uncle Jake, but I want David to write to him as well, to express an adult's appreciation of what he is doing for you - as much as a child like you can, anyway. I want you to write very respectfully, as if he was your superior in every way, and thank him for holding the key to your chastity-cage, for making love to Jane, and for the wonderful baby bonnets he's given you." Daphne shook her head in disbelief, her dummy guard bobbing against her nose. "You have to tell him what a useless little sissy you are, and how you want to remain one forever and ever," Nanny heartlessly instructed. "That's all I'm going to say - except that I don't care how many drafts you do, but substandard letters will be torn up without hesitation. If they're not too offensive, I shall give you some hints to improve your work - before tearing them up. You have one hour this morning to start, and this afternoon - apart from ballet practice - and all day tomorrow to finish, if necessary. You will remain sitting at your child's desk writing constantly, until I decide you've done a good enough job. I wouldn't attempt to skimp on the details, if I were you." Emma knew that she was being really mean, but the sadistic Nanny knew Baby Daphne would dream up a far more humiliating letter by herself than anything she could dictate. She realised how cramped and uncomfortable it would be sitting at the tiny toddler's desk and hid her smile. That alone would provide an incentive to finish quickly and do a good job. Nanny produced some quality notepaper from Wilson's of Knightsbridge and found David's old fountain pen. "Now get to it, baby girl." To be continued in chapter 14. If anyone has any sensible literary criticism or comments, please post your reviews here. If you like the way the story is developing, or have any suggestions, please let me know. I'm desperate for some feedback. Hugs from Baby Jennie