Mummy's Girl - Part 5

“But Mama, I don’t need a bath,” Kimmy whined, as her mother pulled her pink dress up over her head. The dress might be horribly childish, but it was better than being completely naked in front of Mrs Evans and Vicky. She covered her bare breasts with her hands.

“Are you telling me your nappy isn’t full of pee-pee, little missy?”

Kimmy blushed and squirming a little on the spot, feeling her soggy diaper squish wetly between her thighs. “No Mama, but-”

“Then don’t complain, you fussy little thing. I wouldn’t normally bother changing you yet, so you should be grateful that Mrs Evans offered to run a bath for you and Vicky to soak in. What’s the matter, anyway? You normally like baths. Booties next. Lift your feet up, babykins.”

Kimmy lifted up her legs one by one to let her mother take off her woollen booties. Normally she did like baths, but she was less keen on sharing the tub with another woman while their mothers scrubbed and supervised them. The bath wasn’t especially large, so she and Vicky would be crammed in close together. She supposed she was pleased that she’d be getting out of her yucky wet nappy though, and at least she wouldn’t have to keep ‘playing’ with baby toys. She’d spent the better part of the afternoon sat in that stupid playpen with the ridiculous baby show blaring in the background, cooing over dolls and stacking blocks and hosting ‘tea parties’ with Vicky.

“My Vicky used to love baths when she was still a grown-up,” said Mrs Evans, swishing her hand through the bathwater to check the temperature. “But she started getting cranky over them not long after her accidents started, just like a toddler. I took it as another sign that she was going backwards in maturity.”

Kimmy pouted in irritation. She was quite sure that Vicky, like her, had only started being ‘cranky’ about them because her mother had started insisting on bathing her like a child But Vicky didn’t make any comment. She just stood there, totally nude, sucking her thumb shyly. Her face was red with embarrassment, but she didn’t even bother to cover herself with her hands. Her breasts weren’t as large as Kimmy’s, but there were round and perky, and between her legs, her pussy was still glistening with pee. Kimmy didn’t fancy sharing the bathwater with her, but then she supposed Vicky was probably thinking the same thing about her…

“Okay Kimmy, nappy next,” said her mother, ripping the tapes off her droopy diaper. First one side, then the other, and her Pampers fell to the floor between her feet with a heavy-sounding smack. The padding within was soaked and yellow. Her hand shot to her crotch to cover herself, but her mother smacked it away. “Don’t be silly, baby,” she said impatiently. “You haven’t got anything Mrs Evans and Vicky haven’t seen before.”

“Alright, girls,” said Mrs Evans, “the water’s fine, so get those cute little tushy-wushies in the tub!”

Vicky got in first, wincing as her sore derriere hit the hot water, but nothing more than a feeble whimper escaped her lips. Kimmy went next, prompted by a firm smack on her bare bottom from her mother. The warm water did feel good on her skin, but sure enough there was hardly any room. She’d foolishly got in facing Vicky, and the two of them were so close that their breasts were almost touching. She’d had to spread her legs wide, either side of Vicky’s waist, and Vicky had done the same with her just to fit. The end result was that the two of them were practically tangled together.

“Awww,” her mother cooed. “Aren’t they just the cutest little things? Sometimes I think it’s almost worth having a big baby for a daughter, just for moments like this.”

“They do look so sweet together,” said Mrs Evans fondly. “I knew they’d get along. They’re like peas in a pod!”

Kimmy’s already red face got even redder, and she avoided making eye contact with Vicky.

“Well, we’d better get them nice and clean,” her mother said happily, kneeling down beside the tub and rolling up her sleeves.

Kimmy and Vicky were soon lathered up with soap, forced to sit passively while their mothers washed and scrubbed every inch of their bodies with no regard for their privacy. Kimmy let out occasional squeaks of protest, but Vicky just sucked her thumb silently, her face red as a tomato. Kimmy had always been embarrassed by how submissive she acted towards her mother in front of other people, and this was the first time in her life that she’d met another girl who was even more under the thumb than she was. It was a strange feeling, to know that Vicky, a woman ten years her senior, might see her as being more mature, even something of a rebel – someone with far more freedoms than she had.

“Alright, little ones,” said Mrs Evans. “I know you’re happy cuddling like that, but we need you to get up on your hands and knees so we can scrub your bum-bums. Up you get now…”

Their mothers helped them to untangle and manoeuvred them into place so they were sitting on their hands and knees in the tub with their bare bottoms facing outwards. A moment later, Kimmy heard the sound of a picture being taken on her mother’s phone. “Mama!” she whined.

“Oh hush, Kimmy,” her mother said. “You and Vicky look absolutely adorable together.”

“May I see?” asked Mrs Evans. “Oh, just look at their precious little bottoms!”

“They make such a sweet pair, don’t they? I’m going to have to have this framed.”

Kimmy cringed, knowing that her mother meant it. A photo of her bare bum, lined up in the bathtub next to Vicky’s, would be sitting on the mantlepiece in no time. Mrs Jones had never cared about her daughter’s modesty, not unless there were boys involved. Kimmy scowled at the wall in front of her while her bare bottom was washed. She glanced to her left and saw that Vicky had scrunched up her face in pain. No doubt it wasn’t a pleasant experience to have her bottom scrubbed raw so soon after a spanking.

Eventually it was over, and Kimmy’s mother and Mrs Evans helped their two regressed daughters out of the bath. “Arms up, Kimmy,” her mother instructed, rubbing her body all over with a fluffy towel. “That’s it. There we go, nice and dry. And you’re all clean and smelling sweet again, aren’t you? Now try to stay that way for longer than five minutes, okay?”

“Yes, Mama,” Kimmy said, blushing.

“Good girl. Nappy on next. Lie down on the floor.”

“You too, Vicky,” said Mrs Evans, who’d just finished drying off her own daughter.

The two women guided their girls onto a pair of changing mats laid out on the bathroom floor. An enormously thick disposable diaper was prepared for Kimmy, while Vicky had a huge cloth nappy and accompanying plastic pants waiting for her.

“Botty up, baby,” said Kimmy’s mother, taking hold of her daughter’s ankles and lifting them high. She dusted Kimmy’s rear with baby powder and patted it in firmly, making her bum cheeks jiggle. “I was thinking about getting some cloth nappies for Kimmy,” she said to Mrs Evans. “I think I’d prefer to stick to disposables most of the time, but the cloth ones do look adorable on little Vicky’s bottom. I’m not sure I’d want to deal with washing them, though!”

Mrs Evans laughed. “Nor would I!” she said, pinning Vicky’s nappy on with a large pair of safety pins. “I make Vicky wash all her own diapers. She’d the one filling them, after all, so it only seems fair.”

Kimmy’s mother laughed too. She finished taping Kimmy’s nappy into place and gave it a pat. “There we go, baby. All done.”

Kimmy got to her feet, still in nothing but her nappy, and Vicky did the same to allow her mother to pull her plastic pants up her legs.

“Shall we feed them?” Mrs Evans asked. “I’ve got some bottles I can warm up, and I can prepare something more substantial too if you’d like.”

Suddenly, Kimmy felt a rumbling in her bowels. “Mama!” she said quickly, tugging on her mother’s skirts.

“Don’t interrupt, Kimmy!” her mother snapped. “A bottle for Kimmy would be wonderful,” she said, turning back to Mrs Evans, “but she already had a big bowl of oatmeal for lunch, so I don’t think she’ll need anything else.”

“Mama!” Kimmy squealed again, louder this time, her hands darting to the seat of her diaper. Her need to poop had grown absolutely urgent in the few seconds since she’d first felt the need to go.

“What is it, Kimmy?!” her mother demanded, turning around to look at her with her hands on her hips.

“I gotta go poo-poo!”

“And you can’t hold it for just five minutes?”

“No, Mama! Please!”

Mrs Jones rolled her eyes and gave a long-suffering sigh. “Alright, sweetie. Let’s get you to the potty.” She put a hand on her daughter’s bare back and started guiding her over to the toilet.

Kimmy could feel everyone looking at her. She’d show them. Mama, Vicky, and Mrs Evans! She’d show them that she wasn’t going to end up stuck in nappies forever! She baby stepped towards the potty, hands still clamped to the back of her nappy. It felt as though just one wrong step could result in her losing control. A small squirt of pee dampened her pristine diapers, but that was okay. She had much bigger, smellier problems to worry about. She was almost there now. Her bottom hole was clenched as tight as it would go, but it wasn’t enough to stop something small and stinky push out into her pants. It wasn’t over yet though. She knew she’d just had a little messy accident, but she could still make it. Just a bit further…

With a loud fart, Kimmy lost control of her bowels. Two feet from the toilet, she sank into an uncontrollable squat and started loading her lunch into her diaper. Her face was screwed up and scarlet with shame as she grunted and strained to fill her pants. The back of her nappy bulged out and sagged heavily, and the front was drenched with a fresh wave of wee-wee. Then, as quickly as it had started, it was over. Kimmy’s pants were full of poop, and she was left standing bow-legged and bent-kneed, her eyes clenched tightly shut.

“Whoopsie-daisy!” Mrs Evans said in a sing-song voice. She chuckled. “I think that’s a sign to give up on potty training if I ever saw one!”

Kimmy’s lip trembled, tears welled up in her eyes, and a moment later she started to wail. “Waaaaah!”

“There, there, Kimmy-poo…” her mother crooned, pulling her into a cuddle and rubbing her back. “Shhh… It’s okay, baby. It’s okay, Mama doesn’t blame you… But I think Mrs Evans is right. I think it’s about time we gave up. Time to accept that using toilets isn’t in your future.”

“No-oooo…” Kimmy hiccupped, burying her face in her mother’s chest and sobbing even harder.

“Yes, baby. We’ve been trying for twenty years now, and you’re no further ahead now than when you were three years old. Some girls will never be ready for potty training, or for growing up, and you’re one of them. Just like your friend Vicky.” She patted the seat of Kimmy’s dirty diaper and kissed her on the top of her head. “But don’t worry, darling… Mama will always be here to feed you and bathe you and change your smelly nappies. Forever and ever…”