Alternative Therapies - Chapter 5

The next morning, I woke up in a damp bed, just like the previous days. At some point, I must have fallen asleep, and I had obviously slept long enough to wet the bed again, despite the pull-up I was wearing. It wasn't that the pull-up was useless, but what had come from my bladder simply exceeded its capacity. Unlike usual, I did not even attempt to clean up my mess. My mother wanted to decide how the treatment of my incontinence should look like, then she should also be responsible for of all the unpleasant side effects. I carelessly threw my pull-up into my trash can before putting on a bikini and a summer dress and sneaking out of the house.

I did not return until the evening. I had spent the entire day at the lake. Although it was beautiful there, I couldn't enjoy it. All I could think about was what was waiting for me at home. If it wasn't for the agreement with my mother, I would probably have returned home much earlier, but so I delayed my return as much as possible. I finally arrived home a few minutes before 6:30 p.m. and went straight to my room before doing anything else. I wanted to be alone one more time before the whole nonsense began. But when I tried to enter my room, I grimly realized that the old door leading in wouldn't open. The door had been jamming since we moved in, but until now it had never been the case that it wouldn't open at all. It fit my current luck that the thing gave up the ghost today. "Mom! Where are you? My door is stuck again and won't open!" I shouted through the house in frustration. "I'm here, in Sophie's room," she replied.

I entered Sophie's room to explain my problem to my mother again, but stopped mid-sentence when I noticed that the room had changed. First, I thought my mother had just moved Sophie's bed to a different corner, but when I turned around and saw that the bed was still in its original place, I realized that she had actually put up a second cot that seemed to be an exact copy of Sophie's bed.

"Why did you buy another bed for Sophie?" I asked my mother, who was already busy putting a diaper on my little sister for the night. "Right on the minute!" she said, looking at the clock, without answering my question. So much for a final moment alone.

She closed Sophie's diaper and lifted my little sister from the changing table. "Okay, let's start the therapy. Come on, it's your turn," my mother said in a motherly tone, pointing to the empty spot on the changing table. "I think I can still put on my pull-ups without help," I replied, shocked. Unlike my sister, I certainly didn't need anyone to help me put this thing on. It was bad enough that I even had to wear this damn pull-up to sleep.

"Maybe pull-ups, but as you've surely noticed, they're not enough for your nighttime accidents and I don't feel like cleaning up your dirty bed every day!" The resentment that I had left her alone with my mess was clearly audible. "That's why I think it's best if we resort to diapers at night in the future, they're able to withstand bigger accidents," she revealed to me. She couldn't be serious. "I'm definitely not wearing diapers," I said stubbornly, "and especially I won't let you change me! You always talked about pull-ups in your damn therapy, not diapers!" "I was talking about a life like Sophie's, and Sophie also wears diapers to sleep because the thin pull-ups are unable to handle her nighttime accidents!"

It had only been a minute since my therapy had started, but I had already had enough of the nonsense. Wearing pull-ups was one thing, but I would definitely not wear diapers and, to top it all off, let my mother change me. Angry, I stormed to my room and tried to escape my mother and especially the changing table. If I just pressed hard enough, the door would surely open. But all my pushing, kicking, and hitting did not help, the door remained closed, just as it did on my first attempt. Only now did it dawn on me that the door was not stuck, otherwise it would have opened at least a little with the force I had exerted. The door was locked, that was for sure, and since it wasn't me who locked it, it had to be my mother.

My room had always been my sanctuary, a place where I could hide from the world and especially from my mother. Frustrated and exhausted, I collapsed in front of the door. She had taken away my last anchor. If my mother took away my room, I would have nothing left. I had no one to seek protection from. I was alone and I was helpless. Tears suddenly flowed from my eyes. Everything felt so hopeless. I felt cornered, felt forced to do something I didn't want to. I didn't want to wear diapers, I didn't want to be treated like a toddler, no matter what deal I had made. I didn't deserve this; it wasn't my fault that I wet the bed.

My mother, who had followed me and silently witnessed my hopeless struggle with the door, bent down to me and hugged me. "Everything will be okay, Emily, Mum is here for you," she comforted me and gently kissed my forehead. At first, I immediately felt the urge to push her away and scream that she had lost it, but the embrace and her gentle words, even though I didn't want to admit it at first, calmed me down. Suddenly, every hatred towards my mother vanished. It was as if her maternal care was the answer to all my problems, as if I just had to follow her for everything to be alright. I rarely felt as safe as I did at that moment. I was no longer afraid of what was to come because my mother was there and watched over me. She only wanted the best for me, I understood that now and it couldn't be wrong if I felt so secured.

My mother tenderly took my hand and helped me up, and what I had previously thought was impossible, happened. I let myself be led back to Sophie's room by my mother, hand in hand. "Is everything okay with Emily?" Sophie asked, my mother, worried, as we returned to her room. "Emily is fine. She just had a little outburst, like you do when you don't want to go to bed," my mother explained. My mother took me to the changing table, and I climbed up the small steps attached to it without resistance. I had expected that the dimensions of the table would not be sufficient for someone of my height, even though it was an unusually large model, but surprisingly I found a space on the table and changing mat without a problem. I only had to bend my legs so that they didn't hang over the edge.

Carefully my mother pushed up my summer dress and before I knew it, she had taken off my underpants. Fogged by the warm feeling of basic trust that surrounded me since her comforting words, I needed an unusually long time until I realized that she could now look unhindered at my naked crotch. As soon as I realized this, I turned red as a beetroot. Even if I was obviously not quite master of my senses, otherwise my current behavior could not be explained, my sense of shame seemed to continue to function perfectly. Embarrassed, I pulled my hands down and pressed my knees together, but this only elicited a loving, sympathetic smile from my mother.

Silently, she retrieved a diaper printed with childish princesses and unicorns from under the table. At first, the appearance of the diaper led me to believe that my mother actually thought she could still put me in one of Sophie's diapers, after all, her models looked exactly like that. But even though I was small and petite, I was not small enough to fit in a diaper for a four-year-old. But as my mother started to unfold the diaper, I quickly realized that it was much larger than the diapers my little sister usually wore. Contrary to my expectation, the item was actually a diaper in my size. But who, who was as large as I, had interest to wear a diaper with such infantile motives. Even ten-year-olds would have found this childish print too embarrassing.

Less than ten minutes ago I probably would have thrown a fit of rage if my mother had only tried to approach me with this infantile monster, but now I lay there unresistingly and willingly endured everything. I didn't protest when my mother lifted my legs at the ankles to put the diaper under me, nor when she pushed aside my hands, which I had been using to cover my vulva, and began cleaning my crotch with a wet wipe.

The situation was almost grotesque. I, a grown woman, lay motionless while my mother took care of cleaning my private parts as a matter of course. And I hardly dare admit it to myself, but somehow the whole thing felt more comfortable than I expected, which only made everything more embarrassing. " Mommy quickly spreads some baby powder so you don't get sore my darling and then we're already done," she explained to me lovingly, and the next moment my crotch was already covered with a thick, white layer. By now, no one would have guessed at the sight of my vulva that it belonged to an adult woman. Hairless and dipped in white, my private parts didn't look any different than Sophie's. Humming in satisfaction, my mom used her hands to spread the powder down the front of my crotch before saying, "And hop," to me, lifting my legs up so she could spread the powder on my butt as well. When she finally closed my diaper with the four adhesive strips attached, I had long since buried my face in my hands, filled with shame.

"Already done," she said, pleased with herself. "See, it wasn't that bad after all. Now you are well protected for the night and can sleep peacefully." But there was no talk of peace, even if I didn't move, my new underwear seemed to rustle. In comparison, the pull-ups I wore last night were nearly silent. My mother took my hand and helped me off the changing table, as if she assumed I couldn't do it on my own anymore. It was a strange feeling to move with the new object now encasing my crotch. I couldn't even say that the diaper was uncomfortable. On the contrary, it felt soft and fluffy on my skin. However, this did not change the fact that the thickened crotch made every step I took more cumbersome. I was glad that I only had to wear the diaper to sleep.

Without protesting, I let my mother take off my dress and bikini top as well. I hurriedly threw my arms over my breasts when I realized that I was standing in front of her half-naked, wearing only a diaper. In contrast to my sister, who was wearing exactly the same, I was no longer a small child and it was therefore not normal for me to present myself in this way in front of my mother.

"Let's see what we can find for these two princesses to sleep in," my mother smiled lovingly at my sister and me. "I want the nightgown with the little horses on it," Sophie exclaimed ecstatically before my mother had even opened the closet. "This one?" my mother asked, holding up a long, light blue nightgown decorated with a large horse's head on the front. "No, the pink one," Sophie grumbled, waddling to the closet and pointing to a nightgown with countless little horses printed on it. "Ok, as you wish," my mother grinned, took the pink nightgown from the hanger and slid it over Sophie's head.

"And for Emily?" My mother muttered more to herself than to me, and to my surprise, she returned her attention to Sophie's closet. Why was she looking for a pajama for me in my little sister's closet? Similar to Sophie's diapers, there was no way her clothes would fit me. My mother briefly rummaged through the closet and then let out a shrill sound of delight. "This one is cute," she said excitedly, "it goes great with Sophie's nightgown." She held up a short, light pink pajama adorned with horses, which I had never seen before. In style and form, it resembled the nightwear that my little sister usually wore, but at first glance, it was clear that it was much too large to belong to her. The pajama was obviously in my size.

"What is that? Where did you get that?", I asked, confused. "It's one of the pajamas that I bought new for you. Don't you like it?". Stunned, I stared at her. "Why did you buy me pajamas, I have enough things to wear!!!?" It was probably the first time in my life that I wasn't happy about new clothes. "It looks like it's for kids," I said, stunned, and immediately realized that, unfortunately, it wasn't the first time I had uttered that sentence. "Well, that's because it's from the kids' section. Luckily, you're not that big, so there are still plenty of nice things in your size to be found there. You can't wear lingerie and hot pants to sleep when you're a child," she explained to me with such self-evidentness that I was at a loss for words. "But enough of the discussion, you should have been in bed a long time ago."

Without warning, she took the top of the pajama and put it over my head. "Can't I wear one of my own pajamas? " I begged desperately as she threaded my arms through the sleeves. "No! Your room and the things inside it are off limits to you for the next three months and I don't want to hear any more objections from you, Emily, or I'll cancel the transfer to your university immediately! " Reluctantly, I gave in.

"Alright, off to bed then," she told us after pulling up the pants of my sleepwear over my diaper. Sophie happily jumped into her bed, while I stood there confused. "Do you need an extra invitation, Emily?" my mother asked me with a sarcastic tone, as I had not immediately made my way to my bed like Sophie had. "How am I supposed to go to bed if my room is still locked?" I smugly said. "You silly thing, that is your bed now," my mother shook her head amused and pointed to the new, additional cot in Sophie's room, which I hadn't given a second thought to because of all the drama.

It was only now that I realized she had bought the bed especially for me. “This is supposed to be my bed now!?” I snapped at her, "I won't even fit in it!". "You're 1.50 meters tall and the bed is 1.60 meters long. I don't see the problem," my mother responded. I stared in disbelief at the small pink and white bed that my mother thought was going to be my new sleeping quarters. Not only was it, like Sophie's bed, mostly surrounded by boards, except for a small area for getting in and out, but it was also already covered in Sophie's fairy bedding. I could not for the life of me imagine sleeping in this childish bed.

However, my mother ignored my obvious reluctance and helped me into my new bed without paying attention to my complaints. "Sleep well, Emily," she said after pulling the blanket over my body and giving me a kiss on the forehead. She then went to Sophie to give her a goodnight kiss too. I caught wind of my mother asking which goodnight story she should read to us tonight, but even if I had wanted to participate in the decision, which was not the case, I was too overwhelmed by my own feelings and thoughts to say a single word. So Sophie chose the same story as every night and I turned to the wall, wanting to see nothing and nobody anymore.

After a chapter my mother turned off the light. Sophie had already fallen asleep, but I was still wide awake. My mother quietly left the room with my dress and bikini in hand and closed the door. Relieved that she was finally gone, I turned back onto my back and stared despondently at the ceiling above me. It was just after seven, essentially still in the middle of the day, and I had already been put to sleep in a thick diaper. This couldn't be real.

It was impossible for me to fall asleep at that hour. I wanted to get up, but I was aware that the baby monitor, which was sitting on the shelf, would trigger an alarm on my mother's smartphone if I left my bed. As for smartphones, where was mine? I scanned the room with my eyes until I realized that I had last put it in the pocket of my dress, the same dress that my mother had taken out of the room. I doubted that I would see my smartphone again during my time as a toddler. It took hours before I finally drifted off to sleep.