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Jennie's Potty-Training
by Baby Jennie
Chapter 8. Beauty through Suffering
"Let me, Aunty Isy," Bonnie helpfully insisted, kneeling before my mother could and making her gleaming thigh-high boots squeak and crackle distractingly. She firmly tugged the front flap and the rear of my white onesie down over my bulky nappy and collected the dangling bits between my compliantly spread thighs. The heavily made-up teenager watched my tear-filled eyes closely as she pressed the gathered ends together hard against the crackling plastic panty crotch encasing my soft fluffy nappy, and then snapped closed the five chromed fasteners with a nasty little smirk. When she finished, she smoothed the short-sleeved onesie out over my shoulders and admired the pink bunnies gambolling across my breast, while April helpfully stretched the bottom out over my huge padded bum. "Look at those cute pink bunnies on Baby Jennie's onesie," Bonnie gushed, and as she stood she clapped her hands in delight. "We're going to have such fun with your little baby girl today, Aunty Isy."
"Just don't you forget that I have two little girls that need looking after," Mummy reminded them with a mildly concerned frown.
"Don't you worry. We'll look after both of them," April hastened to reassure our mother, unsuccessfully trying to wipe the smirk from her face. "In fact now that our little Baby Jennie has calmed down, why don't I fetch Angelica, and I can show you how good I am at changing a toddler's nappies?"
"Certainly, April," Mummy concurred, "although Angie usually only wears disposable diapers during the day, so she is much easier to look after." After April had competently changed Angie's wet diaper with everybody watching, my little sister was dressed in her stretchy white onesie too, so we looked like twins again. April lifted my sister off the change table and Angie threw her arms around our cousin's neck before she could set her on her bare feet.
"Carry me please, Aunty April?" begged Angie, and giggled happily when the dark-haired beauty laughingly agreed. Bonnie took a box of heated curling rollers out of the big pink toolbox, and then followed us into the Nursery en-suite bathroom and plugged them in. Mummy removed our Alice bands and made Angie and me kneel on the tiled floor with our heads dangling over the side of the bathtub, and then doused our hair with warm water sprayed from the hand-held shower head. Instinctively my lazy bladder started voiding, the wonderful heat splashing around my frozen genitals and caressing me with soothing warmth. When both our scalps were saturated, Mummy and Bonnie roughly towelled us dry until our hair was only damp. After slipping on some fine latex gloves, our brunette cousin massaged some smelly liquid through our dangling wet locks. She used a black wide-tooth comb to spread the solution evenly through our hair and when she was satisfied, she made us sit beside each other on the vanity stool facing the mirror. Bonnie's puffy pink lips widened in a cruel smile when she asked the watching women to help start rolling the smaller heated curlers in our treated hair.
I didn't like it when the hot curlers were rolled tightly against my scalp, and whimpered quietly around my dummy in protest. Angelica likewise started to complain that the rollers were too hot, but Bonnie shushed her piping objections by primly stating, "Girls have to suffer to be beautiful, Angelica. Beauty through suffering, girls, beauty through suffering," she chanted like a mantra, and I saw Mummy and April nodding seriously in agreement in the vanity mirror. I just sucked harder on my dum-dums for comfort, and tried to ignore the busily working women as they rammed curved wire clips around the wound hot curlers to hold them in place. Bonnie shoved some of the steel hair clips in so hard, the pointed ends almost pierced my scalp. When I yelped around my dum-dums in pain, she merely gave me a shark-like smile and continued with her task, completely unperturbed by my suffering. After they had used all the curlers in the steaming grey box, Bonnie unplugged the unit and asked Mummy for two scarves to wrap around our heads. "These curlers need to stay in place for about an hour," Bonnie informed everyone, as she and Mummy covered our odd-looking hairstyles with some tightly-tied, bright silk scarves.
Angelica started to complain that she didn't like it, plucking at her tightly-rolled hair and whining irritably in her high-pitched voice. After a glance at Bonnie, Mummy took my little sister by the hand and suggested, "Why don't we see if there's some cake in the kitchen pantry I can cut up for morning tea, Angie?" Easily distracted by the promise of cake, Angie eagerly followed Mummy out of the bathroom while Bonnie urged me to turn around on the stool in front of the mirror, so that I faced her.
Bonnie lifted my chin with her left hand and tilted my head back, commanding; "Hold it right there, little one, and don't move." She rested the edge of her right hand against my temple and I could see she was holding a pair of shiny steel tweezers in her poised fingers.
"Ow!" I shrieked around my dum-dums as she ripped out a bunch of hairs from my left eyebrow. I felt another unexpected hot spurt in my damp nappy and simply relaxed and let my wee-wees freely flow. She frowned at the clump of mousy-brown hair stuck on the end of her tweezers, flicked it off with one hot-pink fingernail, and then attacked my eyebrow again. I tried to concentrate on the wonderful comforting warmth rising around my genitals, but the pain in my brow was too great. "Ow! Ow! Ow!" I squealed louder with each successive pluck, until my cousin growled in irritation.
"Oh do shut up, you great big sissy baby!" Bonnie sneered in disgust. "Suck your dummy like a good baby girl and stop complaining. Or would you like me to tell your mother about the time I caught you trying on my cheerleader panties?" I gasped in shock and then clamped my lips around the fat latex teat to stop it from tumbling out, terrified by her threat to reveal my shameful secret.
"I thought you'd already told Aunty Isy about her twisted little Jeremy dressing up in your frilly satin knickers?" questioned April, indicating she too, knew about my perverted private pastime.
"No, I haven't told his Mummy. Not yet," was Bonnie's cool calculated reply, and she let the unspoken threat hang heavily in the small tiled bathroom. My eyes flew wide in horror and darted from face to beautiful face, but the two gorgeous girls merely smiled thinly down at me in victory when my only response was to loudly suck on my dum-dums, the pink plastic guard bobbing in agitation against my tiny button nose. "At least her complexion is flawless," Bonnie commented with more than a hint of jealousy. "Obviously the hormone rush of puberty is like, a long way off for this little girl. She won't need any cover-stick or foundation, you know." She ruthlessly plucked my first eyebrow almost to death, causing tears of agony to form in my eyes. I blinked them away, unwilling to surrender emotionally to them again, but I groaned audibly around my pacifier when she soon turned her attention to my other eyebrow.
She continued her savage assault on my hairy brows for another ten minutes, until we heard Mummy's call. "Bonnie? April? I've made you a cup of tea, girls!"
"We'll be there in a minute!" Bonnie yelled in reply, and then returned to the first eyebrow to tidy it up a bit. She painfully plucked out a few individual hairs for another minute, examined both sides to ensure they were even, and then sighed happily in satisfaction. "There! That's much better," she muttered quietly, nodding in approval. She gripped my chin again and forcibly turned my face towards her big sister, who also smiled and nodded enthusiastically. "You wait here, Baby Jennie," Bonnie firmly instructed me, as she and her sister prepared to leave. "We don't want to spoil the surprise, do we?"
I nodded uncertainly but before April walked out too, she promised, "We'll bring you something to drink and some cake, baby girl. Okay?"
I examined my altered appearance in the mirror after they departed, and was stunned to see that my formerly bushy brown eyebrows had been reduced to two high delicate arched lines, giving me the same innocent wide-eyed look as my heavily made-up brunette cousin. The skin below my eyebrows was a little red and irritated, and for a few minutes I gently rubbed them to lessen the residual stinging, completely ignorant of the fact that it would take weeks for the plucked hairs to grow back. I glanced around when Bonnie noisily strode into the bathroom on her towering white high heels, carrying one of my pink bibs in one hand and a large piece of sticky chocolate cake on a paper serviette in the other.
A huge grin almost split her rosy cheeks as she carefully placed the cake on the vanity, and while she clipped the pink terry bib around my neck she sweetly inquired; "Would you like some cake, Baby Jennie?"
I nodded cautiously and replied, "Yeth pleathe, Aunty Bonnie." She giggled at the lisp the dummy caused me to adopt, then tugged on the dangling pink chain until the fat pacifier teat popped from my mouth. She unclipped the dummy chain from my onesie and rearranged the big pink bib around my neck, and spread it neatly over my breast.
"Of course you do, sweetie. All little girls love chocolate cake," she stated reasonably, and as she picked up the cake and the serviette together, April stalked into the bathroom carrying my filled pink sippy-cup. I knew something was amiss when I caught sight of the Cheshire Cat grin splitting April's beautiful face, and barely heard Bonnie's next muttered question. "Baby Jennie, do you remember when you deliberately dumped that piece of cake in my lap at my birthday party last October, all over my new blue satin dress?" She carried the cake on the serviette on one flat palm like a drink on a tray, and then reached behind my scarf-wrapped head with her other hand as she spitefully murmured, "I remember." I felt Bonnie grab hold of the rollers wound tightly in my crown, and I gasped in pain as she used them to fiercely tilt my head back. "Open wide, Baby Jennie," she commanded ruthlessly. I involuntarily obeyed, squealing piteously as she tried to cram the whole piece of cake into my gaping mouth all at once. Most of the cake went in, but a large portion was viciously smeared all over my face and up my nose. I was attempting to scream and swallow at the same time, desperately trying to force cake down my gullet so I could snatch a breath. My ears were filled with my cousins' jeering laughter, the hateful sound echoing loudly in the small tiled room.
"What are you girls laughing about?" I heard Mummy demand as though from a distance, but just when I thought I was about to be rescued, I heard April call out in response.
"You promised not to look until after we're finished, Aunty Isy!" April insisted, her voice bubbling with cruel laughter. My hopes for relief were dashed when I heard my mother chuckle and agree.
I knew Mummy was right outside the bathroom door when she added, "Don't worry. I won't come in. I just wanted to tell you I've prepared lunch for all you girls. Everything is on the covered tray in the fridge, okay?" I clearly heard the jingle of Mummy's car keys, and I knew she was abandoning me to the care of these horrible vixens. I wanted to scream out and beg her not to leave me, but Bonnie kept the chocolate-coated serviette crammed over my mouth so I couldn't utter a sound.
"Don't worry, Aunty Isy," April loudly reassured my mother. "We know exactly what to do. You go and talk to the doctor, and see what he has to say. The girls will be fine," she concluded convincingly.
"Okay then." I thought I detected a hint of reluctance in Mummy's voice, but was in no position to plead my case. "Hopefully I should be back before they need to be put down for their afternoon naps. Alright? Goodbye, my babies. Be good little girls for Mummy, and do whatever Aunty April and Aunty Bonnie tell you to do, understand?"
Bonnie kept both hands clamped around my head and despite my mouth being empty, I couldn't draw a breath. I clawed desperately at the hand covering my nose and mouth as April strode out to escort Mummy and Angelica to the front door. As soon as their voices faded downstairs into the distance, Bonnie relaxed her terrible grip. I gasped in a deep lungful of air and then burst into tears of shame and humiliation. My loud echoing sobs quickly drew my little sister, who toddled into the brightly-lit bathroom and stared at me with goggle eyes. April followed close behind her and when the tall black-haired beauty caught sight of the tears running down my filthy cake-smeared face, she collapsed in a fresh fit of giggles.
Bonnie dumped the serviette in the garbage pail under the vanity and washed the mashed cake from her hand, and they both laughed maniacally when Angelica observed in that familiar condescending tone; "Baby Jennie is such a messy eater."
"Yes she is, isn't she," agreed Bonnie, gasping for breath around her peals of laughter. "Here baby, drink up," she ordered me, still chortling. "You won't be able to drink anything for a while, so drink this while you can." She pressed the spout of my sippy-cup to my messy brown lips, and held it there until I had drained it completely, then discarded the empty pink cup on the vanity bench. Meanwhile April opened a tiny bottle of clear liquid and unseen by me, used the little brush attached to the lid to smear sticky fluid all over the inside of the plastic guard of my pink baby soother and around the narrow neck of the amber teat, before replacing it carefully on the bench and putting the capped vial away.
My superior little sister stepped closer to me and reached for my stained bib, carefully sweeping up the larger crumbs into one hand before tossing the remnants in the bin. She ignored the tears of humiliation trickling down my filthy cheeks, and held the grubby bib to my face while commenting disdainfully, "Yuck-spuck! It's even gone up her nose! Blow, Baby Jennie." Unthinkingly I automatically obeyed my bossy little sister, and blew my nose into the bib she pressed to my face, causing the watching teens to shriek with laughter again. I knew my cheeks were blazing with embarrassment, but I needed to blow the snotty cake out of my clogged nostrils. What choice did I have? Angelica then unclipped my dirty bib and inexpertly wiped my cake-smeared face with the filthy snot-covered cloth afterwards, making me cringe in both disgust and shame. When Bonnie had dried her hands, she approached me holding a steaming damp washcloth, her golden eyes glowing with amusement.
"Let me help, Angelica?" she politely requested, and my smiling little sister readily stepped aside. The washcloth was so hot it burned my skin, but when I tried to wrench my head away, I found Bonnie's other hand gripping the curlers through the scarf at the back of my head again. Any inadvertent movement threatened to tear my tightly-twined hair out by the roots, so I gave up struggling and sat still. I let her scrub my filthy face and scour my lips clean while I impotently complained like a sulky whining toddler. When she was satisfied, she pressed my dummy between my pouting tender lips to silence my objections, and as I sucked the amber rubber teat into my mouth I wondered at the odd taste and the strong scent of cloves that suddenly filled my nostrils.
"Angelica, why don't you come with me and we can watch television while your hair dries," suggested April brightly. My scarf-clad sister happily agreed, and raced out of the bathroom ahead of our taller cousin, leaving Bonnie to deal with my badly soiled bib. My lips started to tingle oddly and I sat there sucking my strangely aromatic dummy with my head bowed, ignoring my smirking self-satisfied cousin as she prepared her tools for the next round of my ongoing humiliation.
I thought Bonnie was being kind when she gently wiped my tears away with a tissue, but then she snapped testily, "Stop sooking! Stop that silly crying and suck your dum-dums, Baby Jennie. You're such a sissy cry-baby! Try and behave like a big girl for once in your life." Her callous words stung my battered pride, and I sucked harder on my weird-tasting dummy and sniffed back the tears, slowly bringing my wayward emotions under control. "That's better," she smiled thinly, placing a flat white tray on the vanity bench behind me, before gripping my chin and cruelly tilting my head back. "Good girl. Keep your head completely still, alright? Now I need you to close your eyelids half-way for Aunt Bonnie, look at the tip of my nose, and don't blink. Understand?"
I nodded, but when she continued to glare at me and waited expectantly, I remembered to shyly respond, "Yeth Aunty Bonnie," bringing a fresh sneer to her glossy pink-painted lips. She reached behind me and fussed with the things on the tray for a minute, but then I saw the shiny tweezers poised between her fingers and thumb again and instinctively pulled back.
"Don't worry, little girl," she smirked at my obvious cowardly reaction, using the dangling dummy chain to draw me closer. "I'm not plucking hairs out this time. I'm gluing some on." Mystified, I sucked harder on my smelly dum-dums and bit the teat with my teeth to prevent it from popping out, and tried to see what was clasped in the end of the tweezers. But Bonnie snapped angrily; "Watch my nose, Baby Jennie! Eyelids half-closed! Do it!" I obediently stared at her petite powdered nose through half-closed lids, and it felt like she was gently tugging on my upper eyelashes. "Good, good," she muttered mostly to herself, and I felt rather than saw her reach behind me again. She repeated the strange process on my eyelashes about a dozen times, then drew back and inspected me critically.
"Open your eyes wide," she commanded. "Now blink a few times." It felt like there was something stuck to my upper eyelid, and I naturally reached up to brush it away. Bonnie easily caught my hand as if she had been expecting such a reaction, and cautioned me. "No, no! Don't touch your eyes, little girl. You mustn't touch your face while Aunty Bonnie is doing your make-up, little one. That's a no-no!" She wagged a playful warning finger at me and I reluctantly let my hands drop to my padded groin. "Good girl, Baby Jennie! Keep sucking that dum-dums for Aunty Bonnie, baby, nice and loud. Now look at my nose again, eyes half-closed.... What a good baby girl you are for Aunty Bonnie!" she fulsomely complimented me, and I cringed under her hollow words of praise.
When she was sure I was behaving properly, she began work on my other eye. I tried to stop cowering like a terrified child every time she gently pressed and then tugged on my delicate upper lashes. When she finished with the second eyelid she returned to the first eye, ordering, "Now keep your head very still, baby girl, and look up at the ceiling." She repeated the strange process on my lower eyelashes, but not as many times. For some strange reason tears started to form in both eyes when she finished the second lower lashes, and when Bonnie saw my eyes misting over she sharply ordered; "Tilt your head back further! Quickly!" She snapped confusingly, "You can't get them wet until they're dry!" With my head tilted right back the tears gathered in my eyes, making my vision swim distractingly. Bonnie started blowing in my wide staring eyes, making me blink furiously until she suddenly burst out laughing. "Oh my God!" she squealed in excitement. "They look fabulous!"
She carefully dabbed at the corners of my streaming eyes with the edge of a folded tissue, blotting up the salty liquid until my vision cleared. My neck was beginning to hurt by the time she allowed me to straighten up, but at least the stinging pain in my eyes had evaporated. My eyelids felt heavier than normal and when I blinked, I could see my long fluttering eyelashes partially obscuring my upper field of view. I rapidly opened and closed my heavy lids while trying to watch the new longer lashes move, unwittingly batting my eyes like a cheap seductress at my chortling brunette cousin, until she told me, "Stop that, you cheap hussy!" Then she burst into another fit of giggles when I stared at her in wide-eyed astonishment.
Bonnie was humming a happy little tune as she took the white tray back to her open pink toolbox and put everything away. She selected some more items with which to decorate my face, and grinned wolfishly as she approached me holding a small pink pencil. She popped out my dummy and let it hang from the clip attached to my onesie collar, then firmly scrubbed my tingling lips with a tissue she first wet with her spit. "Excellent...." She grinned as she inspected my freshly-scrubbed pouting lips, and when she rubbed them with the ball of her thumb, they felt strangely puffy and swollen. "Part your lips a little more and pull them back slightly, like this," she commanded, indicating her requirements with her own lush, glossy pink mouth. She used the pencil to outline my slightly numb lips, drawing and re-drawing some lines repeatedly until she was satisfied.
"Now relax you mouth, baby girl. Look at me," she ordered crisply, grabbing my chin again and forcibly tilting my head to the correct desired angle. She nodded approvingly and discarded the pencil. "Open your mouth, Baby Jennie, and stretch your lips wide this time." She unscrewed the cap from another narrow glass tube, producing a small pink brush on a stick. She showed me with her own lips how she wanted me to hold my mouth open, and I attempted to mimic her actions until she seemed satisfied. "Good girl, that's it. Hold your mouth exactly like that and don't move, Baby Jennie." She carefully painted my puffy tingling lips with the tiny pink brush, dipping it into the tube occasionally to replenish the pink liquid. When she finished, she ordered me to keep stretching my mouth wide open for a few more minutes, while she screwed caps on things and put them away.
Just as Bonnie was tidying up, April strode back into the bathroom with Angelica in her arms. When my taller cousin gazed at me her vengeful smile seemed to grow wider than ever, but the only thing she said was; "I think it's time to paint our little girls' nails." Angie squealed with excitement and wriggled out of April's arms, slithering to the floor and clapping her tiny hands in glee. April coaxed my bouncing little sister to sit beside me on the stool but facing the vanity mirror, angled I think so she couldn't see my altered features. Bonnie filed Angie's fingernails first, and then manicured my longish nails into a neat oval shape. While April started painting Angie's tiny fingernails with some candy-pink polish, Bonnie awkwardly knelt on the floor in her high white boots and started briskly filing my toenails, too. When she was satisfied, she wiped over my dusty toes with a damp washer, and then did the same for my fingernails. She took a bottle of stinky nail polish remover and some cotton balls from the big pink toolbox, and gave every single one of my nails a quick wipe-over as well. She produced two strange pieces of rubber - they looked like fat pink combs with only four teeth each - and she wedged the odd squishy teeth between each of my toes, forcing them to spread out. I expected to have my nails painted the same shade as my baby sister, so I was surprised when Bonnie started carefully painting my fingernails with some clear varnish.
"Place your hands on your knees, Baby Jennie, and don't touch anything, little girl," Bonnie warned me in syrupy baby talk.
"You keep your hands flat on the bench just like that, Angelica," April similarly cooed, "with your fingers spread wide. Good girl." Bonnie closed the toilet lid and sat on it, and then ordered me to put my right foot in her lap. My heel rested on the tops of her glistening white leather boots, and I could see right up her denim miniskirt. The shiny white crotch of her nylon bikini panties peeked out temptingly at me, and I couldn't help but stare in rapt fascination. She then carefully painted my toenails with clear varnish too, which seemed kind of pointless. By the time Bonnie had finished the toes on my left foot, April had done a second pink coat on Angie's fingernails. The colour was so iridescent, I stared in horrified fascination. As if to confirm my worst fears, a grinning April handed the bottle of fluorescent pink polish to her sister. "Here you go, Bonnie," she cooed, "its Baby Jennie's turn now."
Bonnie actually giggled gleefully when she accepted the bottle, and then turned to me with a huge grin splitting her gorgeous painted face. "Oh my, you girls are going to look so pretty with your matching pink nails!" she exclaimed with unabashed delight. She kept grinning maniacally at me as she unscrewed the cap and ordered, "Keep your hands very still on your knees, Baby Jennie. Aunty Bonnie doesn't want to make a big mess everywhere." Despite her stern command my knees were trembling so badly, I couldn't hold my hands still. She shook her head at me despairingly and after a meaningful glance at her sister, April made a suggestion.
"Angelica, can you hold your hands up in the air with your fingers wide apart? Good girl," she praised Angie, when my little sister eagerly thrust her wet nails high in the air. "Now follow me with your hands held up high," urged April, and Angelica jumped off the stool and happily trotted after the tall teenager.
As soon as they disappeared from view, Bonnie leaned closer and tugged the scarf around my head down lower in front. "Hey!" I squeaked in alarm when she used it to cover my eyes, blocking off my vision. My dummy tumbled out of my mouth and bounced lightly on the pink plastic chain against my chest.
"Hush up, Baby Jennie," Bonnie ordered crossly. "I don't want you to see the make-up job I'm doing on you when it's like, only half-way done. Now put your hands up and spin around to face the mirror." I turned around rather awkwardly with my eyes covered and my hands up in the air, and when I sat back down, I wriggled my bottom deeper into the cosy wet nappy that softly surrounded me with comforting warmth.
Bonnie grabbed my wrists and guided my palms down flat onto the vanity bench. "Hands flat like that, spread your fingers, and don't move," she ordered sharply. "There! That's better," she cooed. "At least they're not shaking now, and Aunty Bonnie can do a decent job." She twisted my wrists painfully this way and that as she painted my fingernails, but I blindly suffered through the whole ordeal in silence. Ten minutes after she finished painting the nails on both hands, she started doing a second coat. Then I had to awkwardly turn around and hold my hands in the air like Angelica for about fifteen minutes, while she placed each of my feet in turn on her lap and painted two coats on my toenails, too.
I hoped she was finally finished, but then I had to turn around once more while she painted yet another coat on my fingernails. I was grateful that when she made me place my feet in her lap again, she lifted my blindfold and tucked the scarf back up around the cooling curlers tightly pinned in my hair. After blinking sightlessly in the glaring bathroom light for a few seconds, I glanced down at my foot in Bonnie's lap and saw my fluorescent candy-pink toenails practically screaming back at me, completely distracting me from the fascinating view up my cousin's indecently short skirt. I checked my hands and my iridescent pink fingernails glistened wetly in the bright lights, making my hands look even daintier and more feminine. My domineering brunette cousin was frowning in concentration as she carefully painted another clear coat of polish over the intense candy-pink colour. When she finished the last little toe she gave a loud sigh of satisfaction, making her huge bosom wobble alarmingly.
"Now don't you move a muscle, Baby Jennie," Bonnie sternly cautioned me, as soon as both my feet were flat on the floor. "Not one single muscle - or your Mummy and I are going to have a very long, very revealing conversation about your preferences in my underwear." I blanched at her chilling threat and nodded fearfully, making Bonnie laugh in wicked amusement. "Here," she commanded in a kinder tone, "suck on your dum-dums for Aunty Bonnie, little girl." She grabbed my big pink dummy from where it bounced against my trembling bosom and shoved the thick latex teat between my lips, smiling with heartless satisfaction when I automatically began to suck. Bonnie then inspected my face carefully, frowning slightly when she checked my eyebrows.
She selected a brown pencil from her voluminous toolbox and biting her plump pink bottom lip in concentration, gently ran the tip over the high arches of my heavily plucked eyebrows. Bonnie then took out a tiny paintbrush, and it felt like she was softly brushing the fine bristle tip over the few remaining hairs she had overlooked. She examined each side critically before her beautiful painted face broke into a sunny smile again. "Perfect!" She laughed throatily as she snapped the lid on the small brown pencil, and then replaced it and the tiny paintbrush in her pink box of tricks. I heard Aunty April summon us from the kitchen, calling that lunch was ready. Bonnie grabbed my hand and carefully checked my fingernails, then muttered, "I don't want you touching anything, little girl. Keep those little fingers spread wide apart. And be careful to keep those toe-spreaders in place." She pointed a warning finger at the pink comb things wedged between my splayed toes, but they seemed to be stuck firmly in position.
"Coming!" Bonnie yelled in reply to her sister, and then helped me to my feet. As I waddled awkwardly downstairs alongside the towering teenager, I felt another unexpected rush of heat in my cooling wet nappy. Despite the embarrassing circumstances, I took comfort in the familiar soggy warmth that clung so sensuously to my sensitive genitals. As soon as we walked into the kitchen, Bonnie whisked me into the air and sat me in my highchair with a tell-tale wet 'splat!' She grinned at her older sister and commented, "It sounds like this little girl has a very wet nappy already. We'd better change Baby Jennie straight after lunch." Angelica was already sitting in her booster seat, her scarf-wrapped head and iridescent fingernails looking strangely out of place.
Bonnie turned to me and crooned in sickly-sweet baby talk, "Reach for the sky, Baby Jennie." I compliantly kept my hands thrust childishly in the air, and Bonnie buckled the leather restraining straps around me and then slid the tray into place, taking special care not to inadvertently brush the tops of her gleaming white leather boots against my wet toenails. She delicately grasped my little hands in her huge paws, and gently lowered them to the sides of the tray while ordering, "You just hold onto the sides of your highchair tray, little girl. Aunty Bonnie doesn't want you to mess those pretty nails, you know. Not after I went to so much trouble like, to make them look so beautiful." I gingerly clutched the tray sides and submissively kept my little fingers carefully splayed so I wouldn't accidentally mar the nail polish, while Aunty April clipped a fresh pink terry bib around my neck.
"Aunty Bonnie will have to feed Baby Jennie her lunch today," Bonnie happily declared, almost purring with satisfaction as she plucked my dummy from my pouting puffy pink lips and tucked it under my bib. Mummy had made sandwiches for lunch, and when my gorgeous grinning cousin placed my flat pink plastic Sesame Street plate on the highchair tray, I could see they were chicken, lettuce, avocado and mayonnaise - one of my favourites, but a bit messy. Mine had been cut into bite-size chunks, but I cast Bonnie a worried frown when she picked up the first small piece. I instinctively tried to wriggle away, and ineffectually pressed my head back into the immovable wooden back of my highchair. With the leather crotch strap and waist belt tightly buckled and the tray solidly secured, escape was impossible. She only snickered at my fearful demeanour, then reassured me in mocking baby tones. "It's alright, Baby Jennie. Relax! Open up, baby girl. Aunty Bonnie is just going to feed you your yummy-scrummy sandwich, one tiny bite at a time."
I reluctantly opened my mouth whilst frowning suspiciously at her, but to my relief she popped the tasty morsel straight in without even touching my puffy painted lips. "We don't want to spoil your pretty make-up, do we precious?" she condescendingly chortled, explaining her unusual care. I glanced over to where April was sitting at the table next to Angie in her booster seat, and my little sister was eating a similar sandwich but cut in half, like a grown-up's. She wasn't wearing a bib either, but her white onesie looked pristine nonetheless. My sister glanced up at me and smiled sunnily at the infantile picture I presented being fed in my highchair.
"Your face looks very pretty, Baby Jennie," Angie complimented me with disarming honesty, before turning to our smiling dark-haired cousin. "Will you feed me my sandwich too, please Aunty April," my silly sister sweetly asked, and both teenagers glanced at my blushing pink cheeks, then at each other, before laughing indulgently.
"Angelica, you don't need me to feed you a sandwich!" replied Aunty April with a forgiving chuckle, her luscious cherry-red lips parting in a sweet smile. "It's just that Baby Jennie's pretty pink fingernails are still wet, and Aunty Bonnie didn't want her to mark her nail polish. And besides, you're a big girl now in your booster seat - not a baby, like Baby Jennie in her highchair." Angie examined her own startling pink fingernails with obvious pride as she contentedly munched on her sandwich, then she smugly glanced over at me again.
"And I don't have to wear a bib any more, do I? Because I'm a big girl now, aren't I, Aunty April?"
"Yes you are, Angelica!" crooned April affectionately, wrapping her loving arms around my beaming little sister. "You're such a big girl now!"
Bonnie ate her own delicious sandwich between hand-feeding me, and when I had consumed all of mine, she held my pink sippy-cup for me, too. She tersely warned me to keep holding the sides of the tray and not to try and take the cup from her hands, and she kept the pink spout tilted so far back that I was forced to gulp down my warm milk. When I coughed slightly and a few drops of milk accidentally sprayed out of the corner of my mouth, Aunty Bonnie commented caustically, "Maybe a sippy-cup is like, too much for you to handle, Baby Jennie. You know, we might have to buy you some baby bottles, if you can't manage to drink properly from a sippy-cup yet." She delicately dabbed at the corner of my mouth and chin with the bottom of my relatively clean bib, and I felt unnaturally proud that I hadn't spilled food all over my bibby this time.
I wanted to protest that she had been feeding me so fast, some warm milk accidentally went down the wrong way and I coughed it back up. But Bonnie spitefully kept the spout pressed between my swollen lips and held it there until I had drained the contents, and then she gently wiped my chin and pink-stained lips with my bibby again. "Aren't you afraid you'll mess up her lipstick?" April demanded.
"Nope," Bonnie casually replied. "Besides, I haven't put any lipstick on Baby Jennie yet. That's just the lip-liner and base coat. You know, the permanent stain from the salon that I gave you to try as a base coat?" She reminded her concerned older sister.
April frowned momentarily before replying, "Oh yes, I remember. I didn't use it very often. It took ages to scrub my lips clean afterwards, even with make-up remover."
"Yes I know," grinned her little sister mischievously, as she dumped my empty pink cup and plate in the sink. "It takes like forever to remove without the special solvent, you know. You'll never get it off with like, soap and water." She pushed me forward so my full tummy was pressed against the highchair tray and forcibly patted my back. I blushed rosily when I helplessly belched, my normal bodily functions seeming to be under the complete control of these two dominant females.
The tray was unlocked and removed, and the next thing I knew, I had been unbuckled from my highchair and I was being led by the hand into the Nursery for our usual afternoon nap. I glanced around in confusion trying to see Angelica, and when Bonnie noticed my searching gaze, she malevolently informed me; "Angie isn't being put down for her afternoon nap just yet, Baby Jennie. Aunty April is setting her up in front of the sunroom TV, to watch one of her favourite DVDs like a bigger girl. But you, on the other hand, are still just a baby. You need to have your wet nappy changed and be put down in your cot for sleepy-byes." When I opened my mouth to object, my dummy was simply pressed between my swollen pink lips again to silence me. I didn't try to protest too much because I really was kind of tired, and I shuffled wetly along beside her in my tell-tale wide-legged waddle. "Pooh! It stinks in here!" she complained when we walked into the Nursery. "I think you should change your baby's dirty diaper first, before I change you. You can show Aunty Bonnie what a good mummy you are," she suggested brightly, her malicious grin widening when she spotted me scowling around my huge pink dummy.
At least she didn't make me treat my dolly Justine like a real baby, as Mummy always did. I simply had to undress her and untape the filthy smelly diaper from around her rubber loins. After tying the rolled-up disposable in a scented nappy sack and dumping it in the bin, I carefully carried my stinky poop-caked dolly naked into the en-suite bathroom. There I was allowed to hose Justine down with hot water from the hand-held shower head, and after most of the hard dried excrement had been blasted away, Bonnie ordered me to quickly scrub my dolly's crotch and bottom with a soapy nail brush. In minutes my dry dolly smelled fresh and clean again, and my overbearing brunette cousin silently handed me a clean toddler disposable from Angelica's stack on the shelf under the change table. She scrutinised me closely as I gently caressed powder into my baby's rubber crotch and bottom, smiling and nodding in approval at my sure maternal movements as I gratefully taped the overlarge clean diaper around Justine's loins. I was silently thankful that I wouldn't have to sleep in a room tainted by the stench of my sister's stale poo-poo, and swiftly dressed my dolly under my cousin's watchful eyes and then gathered her to my bosom.
"Good girl! What a good mummy you will make some day, Baby Jennie - when you finally grow up," Bonnie complimented me in a voice rich with sarcasm. I ignored her less-than-subtle taunts, and placed my freshly diapered baby on her back in my cot as she directed. Bonnie grunted with effort when she lifted me onto the change table and I compliantly lay back, suddenly aware of the cold rollers still painfully twined in my hair. She checked the polish on my toenails was completely dry, and was removing the spongy pink toe separators when April strolled in to join us.
"Is Baby Jennie's nappy very wet?" inquired April, and she snickered at Bonnie's definitive reply.
"Saturated! I'm changing her now because this wet nappy can't possibly last her through nap time."
"Oh yes, Baby Jennie is quite the hopeless bed wetter, isn't she?" The dark-haired beauty sneered disdainfully when I blushed rosily at the cruel reminder.
"She certainly is!" replied Bonnie emphatically, and when I pouted and grumbled wordlessly around my dummy in protest, she frowned down at me forbiddingly. "Not a word out you, Baby Jennie! You know that almost every time you sleep at our place, little girl, you've wet the bed!" I sulkily stuck out my bottom lip, but I couldn't deny the truth of her accusation. Every three months or so, Mummy and Daddy went away together for the weekend, and Angelica and I usually had to stay overnight with Aunty Cath and her bossy daughters. On a few - okay, most of those occasions, I'd wet the bed.
What I didn't know was that several times my evil female cousins had secretly helped things along. They already knew about my questionable bladder control and occasionally after I fell asleep, they would sneak into my room carrying a small bowl of warm water. Desperately controlling their giggles, they would take one of my hands and gently lower it into the warm water without waking me. They usually held my fingers submerged until I sighed and relaxed in my sleep, my bladder unconsciously releasing as in my dream state I peed in the shower or the bath, or wherever. If I ever woke up, I always found the room empty and my bed wet. Realising it was too late to do anything about it, I generally rolled over in my warm wet puddle and drifted straight back to sleep. At first Aunty Cath had simply berated me each morning for being a disgusting bed wetter, but because my reputation preceded me, she had already fitted my bed with a crackling protective plastic sheet over the mattress as a precaution.
The last two weekends I slept over at Aunty Cath's, she had prissily insisted I wear a pair of pull-ups to bed, handing me the embarrassing padded toddler pants at bedtime. She stood there waiting expectantly until I was forced to pull down my pyjama pants while she watched. I stepped into the rustling disposable training pants, my cheeks flaming with humiliation as I pulled the shameful symbol of a hopeless bed wetter over my shivering bottom. I noticed her snickering daughters watching me from the doorway as well, and I kept my back to them so they couldn't catch a glimpse of my tiny manhood before I tugged my embarrassing puffy training pants in place. Then Aunty Cath wordlessly handed me a pair of plain white plastic pants to pull over the top, and my cheeks glowed with fresh shame as I drew the snug crackling baby pants over my padded loins, before I was allowed to replace my pyjama bottoms.
Every time I wore the humiliating pull-ups and baby pants to bed, I had woken up drenched, although Aunty seemed pleased that her sheets and bedding had escaped unscathed. The last time our parents picked us up after their weekend away, I remember Aunty mentioning to Mummy that she should take some of the bed wetter pants home with her, and make me wear pull-ups to bed at home, too. But thankfully Mummy had dismissively replied, "Jeremy doesn't usually wet the bed at home - just his pants during the day." But I was silently glad that night when she let me dress for bed without altering my usual nightwear.
So I bit on my dummy teat and stopped whinging, and obediently raised my bottom so Bonnie could slide down my damp yellow plastic panties, which she discarded in the nappy bucket. She unpinned my wet nappy and ordered me to lift my bum again as she tugged it away. With a disdainful shake of her head the rolled soggy bundle followed the panties into the smelly bucket, and then she slammed the lid closed. April stood beside the table and watched as Bonnie carefully wiped me down with baby wipes front and back. When she lifted my ball sack to wipe underneath, she paused to examine me closely. She plucked out a small dark hair growing between my legs, and held it up to her big sister with a disappointed frown and a shake of her pretty head. I shrieked in pain and defensively clamped my legs together. "It's not very big now, is it?" Bonnie snickered disparagingly of my shrivelled manhood, and she scrubbed viciously at the damp powder stuck to my wrinkled ball sack until I whimpered and writhed in pain.
April leaned forward and sadistically flicked the sensitive tip of my shrunken peenie, making me squeal in agony. "It's too small for a penis," she chortled derisively, as my offended genitals shrivelled even more. "It looks more like a girl's clittie."
Her sister laughed brightly in response and asked me in a sing-song baby voice, "Is that what it is, Baby Jennie? Is that your clittie, little girl? Your teeny-weeny clittie?" Terrified of more punishment, I quickly nodded in blushing agreement, sucking on my soother for comfort as they teased me unendingly. Bonnie grinned at my shame-faced response and poured a handful of sweetly-scented powder over my tiny cock and balls, caressing it over my tummy and between my splayed thighs with smooth sure strokes. I sucked harder on my dummy and tried to shift my head so the rollers and pins weren't digging into my scalp, but there were so many that it seemed impossible to find a comfortable position.
Before Bonnie wrapped the fresh fluffy nappy around my hips, she grinned down victoriously at my cowering supine form and painfully grabbed my tiny pink acorn between the tips of her lustrous long pink nails. In vain I tried to pull away, but she continued to squeeze me harder as she ruthlessly demanded, "What's this called, Baby Jennie?" She maliciously pinched the little wrinkled head of my frightened peenie between the tips of her long pink nails for emphasis, and I squealed piteously.
"It'th my clittie!" I whimpered in shame around my pacifier. "Ow! It'th my clittie! My clittie, Aunty Bonnie! Oh pleathe," I squealed, begging for release, and I moaned with thanks when my poor bruised organ was freed and the comforting thick nappies were safely pinned around me once more.
I had to endure their giggled chorused command to "Point your toesies like a pretty ballerina, Baby Jennie." As I obeyed in pink-cheeked silence, April slid a crackling pair of plain yellow panties up my compliantly raised legs, and I knew this humiliating instruction was to become a regular addition to my shameful diaper changing routine.
April effortlessly lifted me off the change table and carried me to my open crib, and I whined in irritation when my head hit the pillow and the rollers and pins dug into my scalp again. I grumbled and plucked ineffectually at the silk scarf still tied around my head, but the statuesque teenager yanked my hand away with a warning frown. "Ah-ah-ah! Leave that scarf alone, Baby Jennie," April sternly cautioned me. "Aunty Bonnie will be very cranky if you remove a single roller before she is ready." Bonnie nodded sombrely in agreement as she raised and locked the pink side rail.
"I'll take the rollers out after your nap, sweetheart," she blithely promised, and merely chuckled derisively when I clutched Baby Justine to my breast and rolled away from her in annoyance, facing the pink bars lining the wall and sulking resentfully. I stuffed my fluffy pink teddy between my knees and angrily chewed on the dummy teat clenched between my teeth, and cuddled my baby as I imagined myself exacting sadistic revenge on my cruel overbearing cousins. I whispered the horrible details in Justine's tiny rubber ear, but before I could plot a suitable climax for their punishment, I fell fast asleep clutching my dolly in my arms, despite my uncomfortable head wrapping.
Continued in chapter 9
I hope you're enjoying this twisted 'dominated, diapered and petticoated' tale. If so, leave me a post and let me know, please?
Hugs from Baby Jennie in Australia
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