Mummy's Girl - Epilogue

One Year Later

Mrs Jones sat in her living room, watching Kimmy’s baby monitor footage on her tablet. It was one of her favourite pastimes. The cameras were a new addition; her daughter had fussed and whined about the invasion of her privacy when they’d first been set up, but it hadn’t been anything that a quick spanking couldn’t put an end to – and Kimmy needed to learn that her Mama could keep an eye on her at all times. Privacy was for real adults, not her silly little Kimmy.

The living room bore many signs of Kimmy’s new status as a full-time adult toddler. A large playpen sat in the middle of the carpet, dolls and stuffed animals were strewn all about the place, a plastic mat lay across one half of the sofa to protect it from leaky diapers, and many of the pictures around the room showed Kimmy in situations that would make anyone over the age of three dizzy with embarrassment. One showed her napping peacefully, thumb in her mouth and wet nappy on display. Another was a snapshot of her toddling around in the garden, dirty diaper sagging several inches below the hem of her Summer dress. There was a picture of her dressed up for trick or treating at Halloween, and another of her at Christmas, wrapped up in a thick fleece onesie that had the words “Mummy’s Present” written on the front. And then there was Mrs Jones’ favourite, the one of Kimmy and Vicky’s bare bottoms side by side in the bathtub at Mrs Evans’ house, sitting pride of place on the mantlepiece.

Kimmy’s bedroom had changed even more than the living room. As Mrs Jones watched, Kimmy was busy playing with the dollhouse that sat against one of the walls. A large toybox was open nearby, overflowing with toys and dress-up outfits. Taking up much of the space in the room was a fully-stocked, adult-sized changing table. A diaper pail stood next to it, much bigger than Kimmy’s old one, better suited to handling the far higher number of nappies she went through now that she was wearing them 24/7. The baby monitor’s camera also had a good view of Kimmy’s crib, so Mrs Jones could make sure her daughter was being good during naps and nighttime; the nightlight in the corner offered just enough illumination that the cover of night offered no opportunity for her to get into any mischief.

Mrs Jones peered closely at the screen. It was hard to tell from the angle of the video, but it looked like Kimmy’s nappy needed changing. She got to her feet, put aside the tablet, and headed upstairs, smiling at the thought of plonking Kimmy’s bottom on the changing table and getting her all cleaned up. Wipes, powder, and a nice, fresh nappy for her stinky little lady… It made her feel so utterly fulfilled. Once she reached Kimmy’s room, she paused for a few moments in the doorway, enjoying the sight of her adult daughter kneeling on the floor in nothing but her hugely thick Pampers. She had plenty of adorable outfits that Mrs Jones liked to dress her in, dresses and onesies and cute little costumes, but her favourite was dressing Kimmy in nothing at all except her bulky, babyish potty pants.

“Kimmy!” she called, to get her daughter’s attention, and Kimmy’s head whipped around. Mrs Jones snapped her fingers and pointed at the floor in front of her. “Here, Kimmy. Come to Mama.”

Kimmy did as she was told, getting up awkwardly and toddling over to her mother, her legs spread wide apart by the thickness of her nappy. Although she was topless, no large, pendulous breasts jiggled on her chest. Mrs Jones had booked her daughter in for breast reduction surgery several months ago, and had her E cups turned into As. Kimmy’s buxom chest was gone, replaced by a pair of adorable little mosquito bites. Much more appropriate for someone who’s still in nappies, Mrs Jones had explained, once Kimmy had woken up in the private clinic to find herself flat as a board. She hadn’t been at all happy about being tricked into losing her big girl breasts (in fact it had resulted in one of her biggest temper tantrums ever), but Mrs Jones knew that having such large boobs would only have given her silly ideas about still being a grown-up, and eventually Kimmy had been forced to accept that they weren’t coming back. In Mrs Jones’ view, her daughter was still cute as a button, but she certainly wasn’t the blonde bombshell she’d once been. With her tiny tits, the fact that her make-up free face was frequently covered in baby food or Bolognese sauce, not to mention the presence of the thoroughly loaded diapers that so often drooped between her legs, she looked more like a grubby, overgrown toddler than a sexy young woman.

Kimmy looked nervous as she approached her mother, no doubt worrying she was about to be pulled over her knee and spanked for breaking one of her many rules, but Mrs Jones tickled her under the chin to put her at ease. “Spread your legs, little one,” she instructed, and Kimmy obeyed, standing even more bow-legged so her mother could put a hand between her thighs and check her nappy. “Hmm… These are close to leaking,” said Mrs Jones, feeling the heavy warmth of her daughter’s Pampers. She tutted and wrinkled her nose pointedly. Kimmy was giving off a strong pee-pee smell. It didn’t actually bother her at all; in fact, the smell of Kimmy’s wet or messy nappies immediately sent her into Mummy-mode, but it was good for Kimmy to be aware of just how yucky her diapers were to other people. “Turn around, sweetie,” she ordered next. “Mama needs to see if you’ve made a stinky.”

Blushing brightly, Kimmy turned around and stood still while her mother slipped a finger into the back waistband of her nappy and tugged it out. She peered inside, but there was nothing there but the pale hills of Kimmy’s bottom, and the discolouration of the pee-soaked padding creeping up the back of the diaper. “Clean for now,” she announced, letting the waistband snap back into place. “But there’s no point changing you when you might poop your pants any second. Go get your plastic pants, Kimmy. That should handle any leaks.”

“But Mama…” Kimmy whined, looking down in disgust at the sodden nappy hanging off her hips. It was sagging halfway down to her knees.

“Right now, Kimmy!” snapped Mrs Jones. “No whining! If you’re not wearing your plastic pants in five seconds, you’re getting a spanking!”

Kimmy went pale and rushed over to the chest of drawers at once. She hurriedly pulled out the drawer that contained her plastic pants, grabbed a pair, and started tugging them up her legs and over her nappy as fast as she could. Mrs Jones nodded with satisfaction once Kimmy had them on. “Now what do you say, Kimmy?” she asked, raising an eyebrow expectantly.

Kimmy pouted at the floor. “Thank you for not changing me straight away, Mama,” she said, “in case I still have to go poo-poo.”

“Good girl.” Mrs Jones beckoned her daughter back over with a finger so she could make sure her plastic pants were on properly, and once she was satisfied that any leaks would be safely contained, she pulled her daughter into a hug. One hand ran through her golden pigtails, and the other patted her padded bottom. She still needed plenty of warnings, and her bum was no stranger to the paddle, but Kimmy was so much better behaved these days.

She’d dropped out of college, of course. Mrs Jones didn’t know what she’d been thinking, letting her daughter attend in the first place. Her silly Kimmy didn’t need a degree. It had been hearing Vicky’s story that had really opened her eyes… The moment that girl had left her mother’s house, she’d started doing all kinds of things that Mrs Evans would never have approved of, going out partying and staying up late, having boys over and wearing whatever she wanted. Mrs Jones had always had in mind that she’d been helping her daughter grow up to be a proper young woman, sweet-tempered and humble. But really, why was there any need for her to grow up at all? If Kimmy went off and tried to be independent, she’d no doubt make all kinds of poor choices. No amount of reraising could fix that. Kimmy just wasn’t cut out for adulthood! She was sure to choose wrong on everything from her career to her hairstyle. No, it was much better for her to stay right where she was. Under her Mummy’s thumb.

Mrs Jones held her daughter tightly, and when she heard the rumbling in Kimmy’s tummy that could only mean a messy nappy was imminent, she smiled. She was going to make sure her little Kimmy stayed a Mama’s girl forever.

The End