Mandy held up the panties by the waist and said admiringly, “These are really cute, and they’re as close we’re going to get to those baby rhumba pants that wouldn’t fit. Come here, Baby,” she called to Kim as if calling a puppy. “Let’s try these panties on.” The tennis panties were a white synthetic material over a cotton liner. They were shaped like old-fashioned women’s briefs, with a high waist and low-cut leg openings. Their lackluster and rather dowdy appearance was completely transformed, however, by inch-wide bands of pink lace that circumscribed the leg openings and scalloped across the back in four ruffled rows.

Kim waddled to the side of the bed and as Mandy held open the elastic waistband, he stepped into the tennis pants. Mandy slid them up his legs and over his plastic-covered bottom, pulling until his wet diaper was crushed against his aching balls. Mandy’s enthusiasm was now uncontrollable. “Oh, that’s so-o much better than that industrial-looking plastic bag and tape,” she cooed. “So much cuter and more babyish. What do you think, Heather?” she asked.

Heather rubbed her hand across Kim’s frilly butt, making the rows of lace stand up smartly and sending a shiver up Kim’s spine. “Very nice,” she mused. “No wonder I never wore these. They’re made to fit a buffalo butt – or,” she added, “a big diaper butt like Kim’s.” Heather went to her dresser and began rifling the drawers. “And I have just the perfect top to match,” she said.

“Yeah, I’m sure you do – if you can find it,” Mandy laughed.

A minute later, Heather did. “Here we are,” she announced, displaying a cotton baby-doll nightie with a pattern of randomly splattered pink flower petals. “This came with some matching boxer-short bottoms,” she explained, “but Baby just needs the nightie. Arms over your head, Kimmie,” she instructed. She pulled the nightie over Kim’s bonnet, adjusted the elasticized scoop neckline on his shoulders and straightened the puffy, lace-trimmed sleeves that were so short they looked like frilly epaulets. The lacy hemline barely reached Kim’s waist and left his ruffled bottom fully exposed. Heather plucked the baby bib out from under the nightie and smoothed it against his chest.

Mandy was again ecstatic. “Now that is awesome,” she declared. “The perfect outfit for when Baby is taking a nap in the crib or playing indoors, like today. We may need something a bit more formal when we take the Baby outside, though,” she added, smirking as Kim’s face went pale at the prospect. “Aw, don’t worry, Baby,” she consoled as she rose from the bed and patted Kim on the head condescendingly. “Not today. Maybe Baby can play outside tomorrow.” Turning to Heather, she asked, “How about some booties or baby shoes?”

Heather rummaged in the dresser drawers, returned to the closet and retrieved a pair of black patent leather shoes. “What do you think about knee socks and Mary Janes?” Heather inquired as she handed the items to Mandy.

“That’s what every baby girl should wear,” Mandy agreed. “Come and sit, Baby,” she told Kim while motioning toward the petite rocking chair. As Kim sat, he felt the slight rustle of the lace on his bottom before his weight settled on the spongy, saturated crotch of his diapers and squeezed the now chilly pee up toward his relentless hard-on. Mandy knelt before him and rolled the white, cable knit socks over his feet and up his calves to his knees.

“It’s a good thing the schoolgirl look was in last year,” Mandy said as she struggled with the shiny, black shoes. “Otherwise, we never could have found baby shoes any bigger than Brittany’s.” They were a tight fit, nevertheless, and Mandy ordered Kim to stand. With the pressure of Kim’s weight and Mandy’s skillful manipulation of a shoehorn, his feet were finally, if somewhat uncomfortably, crammed into the shoes. Mandy pulled the instep straps as tight as she could and buckled the shoes in place. Kim wobbled unsteadily on the slightly stacked heels, which were the only feature that distinguished the shoes from authentic Sunday-best baby shoes.

“Okay, time for Baby to model her sweet little baby girl outfit,” Mandy announced as she stood. “Oh, Heather,” she added, “Make sure you get this on videotape. Now, Baby, walk toward Heather and do a little pirouette for us, then stroll over to the mirror and take a look at yourself.”