forced regression Alternative Therapies

[SweetLittleEmily]

On 1/4/2024 at 5:29 AM, Emmi said:

Out of curiosity how much time has passed since she started her therapy? Does she even remember why she started or that she will be allowed to see a doctor after the 3 month mark?

It's hard to keep track of times and days when they hardly play a role in one's daily life anymore. Just let yourself be surprised by what happens, I will address the topic of time in the upcoming chapters ;)

On 1/4/2024 at 3:29 AM, ken2988 said:

I can feel for this character, and it feels a lot like my life growing up when I was around 12.  My sister is 5 years younger than me and she stopped wetting the bed when she was around 3, while I wet the bed until I was almost 12 years of age.

I remember my sister and her friends teasing me about wetting the bed when she was around5 years of age until I stopped wetting the bed when she was 7.

I'm sorry you went through that back then. Kids can be very cruel.

[CDfm]

Great chapter.

 I know that diapers are sexual in nature for some people.  That’s not the case with me.  Having thoughts of a sexual nature with Viola’s mother during an embarrassing diaper change is something that would have been the furthest thing from my mind. I would have liked to have melted into the changing table. 
 

I will be watching for more. 

[SweetLittleEmily]

Chapter 18

In the following days, not only did Viola seem to adjust well in the new environment, but her mother did as well. Although she was initially there just to help Viola settle into kindergarten, she naturally began taking care of the other children too, and in doing so became a real pillar of support for Mrs. Müller. Her presence suddenly made activities possible that previously would have been impossible for Mrs. Müller to carry out alone.

I couldn't stifle a big yawn as I sat down next to Nora at the lunch table, after an unusually extensive long group game. A heaviness settled over my eyelids that I could hardly fight off. Uncertainty washed over me: Was the growing exhaustion perhaps due to the fact that lunch was delayed by three-quarters of an hour because of the prior activity? Had I already become so accustomed to the nap that I now needed it just like the other children? After all, I would normally be in my crib by this time, and the other girls also seemed more tired than usual as we sat down for lunch.

Most likely, I was just unnecessarily worrying about having become so accustomed to life as a toddler that a nap had become indispensable for me. My tiredness was probably more attributable to the fact that I had been feeling unwell all morning. And the abdominal pain I was experiencing led me to suspect that my discomfort was likely due to the unfortunate fact that I would soon get my period.

"Anna, would you be so kind as to quickly put bibs on the children while I fetch lunch from the kitchen?" Mrs. Müller asked Viola's mother before disappearing from the room. A whiff of sweet perfume filled the air as Anna positioned herself behind me. With practiced hands, Viola's mother spread the colorful bib over me and tied it around my neck.

It was crazy, every night after I was put to bed and alone in my sister's room, I literally masturbated myself to sleep thinking about her. After weeks of sexual abstinence - with the beginning of my therapy I had lost all desire - her pure presence had managed to reawaken my lust, even though there were truly nicer things than satisfying oneself in a diaper. Not to mention the constant fear that my mother could hear me over the baby monitor. But all this had not been able to stop my lust, which was ignited by this woman.

And yet, when Anna was in the immediate vicinity at the kindergarten, I couldn't utter a single word, even though what I desired most was to get closer to her. Instead, my eyes secretly followed her at all times. This time was no different; I said nothing, only watched as she gently moved on to the rest of the children to put their bibs on. Each of her movements seemed so graceful, so full of care, that I lost myself in the silent poetry of this simple act. I could have watched her for hours, yet in the next moment all the bibs were in place, and lunch had arrived at the dining table.

It didn't take long for my fatigue to finally take over while eating. My eyes kept closing, and several times the food slipped off my spoon, landing pitifully on my bib. Mrs. Müller, of course, didn't miss this. 'Emily, more food is ending up on your bib than in your mouth. I'll take you to bed, and you can eat more later if you're still hungry,' she finally told me, after I had dozed off yet again, spilling a spoonful of pudding onto myself.

She took off my bib, led me to the changing table, put on my nightgown, and quickly checked my diaper. 'Dry. That's good,' she noted, almost more to herself than to me. She lovingly put me into my crib and placed my little teddy bear next to me. As soon as I cuddled up to him, fatigue completely overcame me, and I slipped into a deep, restful sleep.

I awoke with an unpleasant pressure in my stomach that made me wince, and realized in that same moment that I urgently needed my potty. My hands instinctively grabbed the bars of my crib, attempting to push them aside to escape my little prison, but it was futile. On my own, I couldn't get out of this damn bed.

Mrs. Müller, Mrs. Müller?' I called out softly, my voice barely louder than a gentle whisper. I didn't want to be too loud, fearing I would wake the other girls. But I needed to get out of here. My eyes scanned the room, hoping to find Mrs. Müller so she could help me out of bed and onto my potty, but the only person I saw was Viola's mother. She looked up from her smartphone at the sound of my calls, casting a questioning glance in my direction.

She set her smartphone aside, stood up, and approached me with quiet, deliberate steps. 'Is everything alright, Emily? Mrs. Müller is away for a moment, but perhaps I can help you,' she said with a loving gentleness that further twisted my insides. I would have preferred if it weren't the very woman I admired so much who had to assist me in such an intimate matter. But it seemed I had no other choice unless I wanted to risk an accident. Kneeling in the bed, my hands gripping the bars of the crib, I began to explain my dire situation. 'I really need to—,' I began, but before I could finish the sentence, the unimaginable happened.

Without me being able to do anything about it, my bowels discharged and filled all of their contents into my diaper. A feeling of warmth spread through my crotch as the pulpy mass settled between my legs. The diaper, which had already been wet before, but had nevertheless been firmly attached to my crotch, was suddenly literally pulled down by the additional weight.

I was too shocked to utter a sound. All I could do was look at Anna with horrified eyes. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion after I had suddenly stopped speaking mid-sentence. 'What do you urgently need, Emily?' she asked me, puzzled. But then, the unmistakable smell broke through the silence, explaining my situation in a way that words could not have done better. Anna's face shifted from confusion to gentle understanding. 'Ah, I see you have a full diaper, sweetheart,' she said, her voice devoid of any blame or criticism.

Tears began to flow and I was unable to withstand the wave of emotions that washed over me. Until this point, I had considered myself superior to the other children because, unlike them, I had never done my 'big business' in a diaper. Even Nora, who was already quite advanced in potty training, had once filled her diaper. Now, my last sense of superiority was shattered. I was just like all the other children here. I wore diapers, bibs, and emptied my bladder and bowels into a diaper if I wasn't put on a potty quickly enough. Mrs. Weber and my mother had been right: This group was exactly at my level of development. I belonged here.

Anna unlocked and opened the bars of my crib. 'Hey, it's not a big deal. Sometimes these things happen. It's not the end of the world,' she comforted me, taking my head gently into her hands. 'Come on, let me change your diaper quickly, and then the world will look very different.

As she helped me out of the bed and led me to the changing table, I felt the unpleasant fullness of the diaper with every movement. Every step seemed to shift the mushy mass inside my diaper, and the fact that we were moving away from the scene of the event did nothing to change the fact that the unpleasant smell of my excrements followed us at every step. I was literally disgusted by myself, and I felt so incredibly sorry for Anna, who also had to endure this stench.

Tears were still streaming down my face when I lay down on the changing table. Involuntarily, my hands clenched around my still-aching stomach after I had laid down. Anna noticed this as well. "You have a stomachache, don't you?" she asked, concerned. I could only nod. Emotionally, I was not yet able to express myself any other way.

Anna disappeared for a brief moment and then returned to me. Before I could realize what was happening, she put something into my mouth. 'This will surely help with your stomachache,' she said reassuringly as she patted my face. Only then did I realize she had just given me a pacifier—specifically, a medication pacifier.

In my current state, plagued by agonizing stomach pains, I was even willing to accept the silly pacifier. At that moment, I would have taken anything that promised potential relief. Hopeful, I began to suck on the Pacifier, and in the next moment, the sweet taste of the medication released in small doses filled my mouth. I hoped it would work quickly.

Eagerly sucking on my Pacifier, I had to watch as Viola's mother lifted my nightgown, unfastened the adhesive strips of my diaper, and exposed my feces-covered crotch. I don't think anything in my life had ever been more embarrassing. Even wetting the kitchen floor in front of my mother suddenly seemed trivial in comparison. I couldn't even count how many wet wipes Anna ended up needing to clean my crotch of my excrements, but one thing was certain: never had diaper cream and a fresh diaper felt so good afterward.

After Anna had finally changed my diaper, she didn't lead me back to my crib but to the small sofa situated in a cozy corner of the group room. She helped me lie down and covered me with a soft blanket. Then she briefly disappeared and returned with a baby bottle.

“With diarrhea, it's especially important to stay hydrated, Emily," Anna informed me. She sat down next to me on the sofa and asked me to lay my head on her lap. With a gentle motion, she removed the pacifier from my mouth and replaced it with the baby bottle of water. Embarrassed but somehow still grateful, I began to suckle on it, and the cool liquid alleviated some of the discomfort in my still-aching stomach.

My eyelids grew heavier with each sip, and fatigue seemed to be overtaking me once again. But just as I was about to drift back into sleep, the sound of a door opening jolted me awake. Mrs. Müller entered the room and looked around, puzzled. 'Is everything alright? Why isn't Emily in her bed?' she wondered. Anna looked up and replied, 'Emily had a messy diaper. I've just changed her.' Confused, Mrs. Müller looked at me. "That never happened before" she noted, "up until now, Emily has even avoided doing her big business in her potty at kindergarten."’

Indeed, up until this moment, I had done everything in my power to do my big business at home with my mother. She was the only one in front of whom I had managed to perform this degrading act on my potty. To avoid doing it in front of anyone else, I had even gone so far as to suppress the urge to go for hours on end. 'I believe Emily has diarrhea,' Anna finally explained to Mrs. Müller with compassion. But before I could catch what Mrs. Müller replied, I had already fallen back asleep.

I only awoke when Mrs. Müller called me for the afternoon snack. Unfortunately, sleep had done nothing to alleviate my stomach pains. Unsure if I even had an appetite, I dragged myself, still half-asleep and in my nightgown, to the dining area. Only when I sat down did I become aware of the unusual feeling in my mouth. To my horror, I realized that the pacifier was back between my lips. Apparently, Anna had put it back in my mouth after I had dozed off, and I had slept with it the whole time. Annoyed, I took the thing out; the medication in it was already used up, and my condition had not improved anyway. I intended to simply set the pacifier aside, but to my chagrin, I discovered that it was attached to my nightgown with a string and a clip. Just as I was about to remove the silly thing, Mrs. Müller appeared with my bib and my food portion, and the next moment, the pacifier was not only hidden under my bib but also out of my mind.

Viola and her mother had apparently already left, as they were neither at the lunch table nor anywhere else in the room. Their acclimation phase was probably not far along enough for them to spend the entire day here. Listlessly, without much appetite, I chewed on a piece of apple when I felt another cramping pain in my stomach. It took no more than a second for my bowels to empty themselves into my up-until-then clean diaper again. My faith was completely shattered. Here I was, 19 years old, with a bib around my neck and a soiled diaper around my hips.

Yet instead of reporting my mishap to Mrs. Müller so that I could quickly be changed out of my nasty, dirty diaper, I handled it like the other children here and kept my accident to myself. I knew she would sooner or later notice the state of my diaper, but out of sheer embarrassment, I couldn't bring myself to inform her about my accident. So, disgusted by the feeling between my legs and the smell surrounding me, I continued to chew my food as normal, until the moment the odor reached Mrs. Müller. What followed was the same routine that happened every time someone had soiled their diaper. Mrs. Müller asked the group who had a full diaper. As usual, no one came forward. Then she went around the table and checked each child. When she finally got to me, a quick lift of my nightgown and a glance at my diaper was all it took to identify me as the culprit. With my face flushed red, I was led to the changing table, where for the second time that day, I was freed from my smelly diaper.

No sooner had Mrs. Müller put on my fresh diaper, the door opened and my mother appeared in the room. With a concerned expression, she rushed over to me. "Emily, Mrs. Müller called me earlier and said you weren't feeling well. How are you?" she asked lovingly, as she gave me a kiss on the forehead to greet me.

"Not so good, Mom, my stomach still hurts," I answered softly, tears in my eyes. Believe it or not, a sense of relief washed over me at the sight of my mother. I was glad she had come to take me home and look after me. "Oh, my darling, everything will be alright, Mom's here," my mother comforted me, taking me lovingly into her arms. Meanwhile, Mrs. Müller explained to her once again what had happened. She told her that I had started to have stomach pains during naptime and that she had just changed my full diaper for the second time today.

My mother finally picked me up and was just about to take me out of the room when she noticed the medicated pacifier still dangling from my nightgown. "What's in this?" she asked skeptically, pointing to the pacifier. "It's a homeopathic remedy for stomach pains. Viola's mother, who's currently getting her child accustomed to the kindergarten, gave Emily this remedy because she was in so much pain," Mrs. Müller explained.

Great, just what I needed. I had hoped that Viola's mother wasn't one of those alternative medicine weirdos. But whatever, nobody's perfect. On the other hand, my mother simply nodded understandingly, as if that was the best thing that could have been done in this situation. "Please thank her for me," she said to Mrs. Müller before we left the room.

 

If you like my story and would like to support me, you can do so on Patreon (patreon.com/SweetLittleEmily). There, you will also find additional chapters, and a new chapter is published twice a month.

[CDfm]

I enjoyed the chapter. 
I wasn’t aware that the menstrual cycle caused diarrhea.  But what do I know about that.  I hope mom has a better remedy than the homeopathic one that was already tried. 
I am looking forward to reading more. 

[SweetLittleEmily]

No, at first she thought the abdominal pain was caused by her period, but in the end it was diarrhea caused by a viral infection

[SweetLittleEmily]

Chapter 19

I meticulously picked out the juiciest strawberry slices and the shiniest grapes from the colorful fruit plate in front of me, all while making a concerted effort to ensure not a single piece of grapefruit ended up on my spoon and consequently in my mouth. Although I was far from being the only child at the table with little love for this particular fruit, it seemed that no one else avoided the orange-red segments with such determination as I did.

I plucked the last, especially succulent strawberry from my plate and indulgently immersed it in my mouth. After the grueling stomach flu had stolen my appetite for days on end, the sweet berry tasted almost divine, now that I was finally feeling better.

It was a typical Friday afternoon in kindergarten, at least until the moment my mother burst through the door unexpectedly – earlier than ever before – turning my usual routine upside down. I had been certain that the day would follow its usual course - with a long, carefree playtime after the afternoon snack, as my mother usually picked up my sister and me just before the kindergarten closed. But today, it seems, I would have to forgo the afternoon playtime with my kindergarten pals.

My mother made a visible effort to exude calm as she approached me with quick steps, yet the tension she carried with her today seemed to weigh heavier on her than usual. Somewhere, deep inside me, I felt that I knew the reason for her haste and her premature arrival, but no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't bring the faded memory to the surface.

"Hello, sweetheart," my mother greeted me, planting a gentle kiss on my forehead as she, completely out of breath, reached me. "We need to hurry a little, okay?" she added hastily, half-apologetically pushing aside my plate with the remaining pieces of grapefruit, "you know, this weekend Mommy has her Continuing Legal Education, her training course and I need to get everything ready and take Sophie to her father."

That was it, what I just couldn't recall. My mother wouldn't be here this weekend, which meant that Lea, as often in recent weeks, even though she had never babysat me for an entire weekend before, would be taking care of me while my sister spent time with her father. It was inexplicable to me that I had forgotten this, despite the numerous times my mother had mentioned it. It was strange – given my current lack of activities, one would think that I wouldn't so easily forget such things. Yet, precisely because my daily life was so dictated by others, and it hardly mattered whether I remembered important events or not – since there was always someone there to manage the necessary things for me – my mind seemed to prefer focusing on the small, manageable joys of my present life: deciding which picture to color next or what game to play.

My mother quickly wiped the red strawberry stains from my lips with my bib, before skillfully untying the fabric around my neck. She briefly checked my diaper, only to find it still dry, before encouraging me to get going. "Come on, Emily, we need to leave, we don't have much time today." But just as I was getting up, Viola's mother entered the room to pick up her daughter too.

Viola's acclimatization period was now over, so she spent her days in the kindergarten without her mother, just like the other children. There were still moments when Viola missed her mother and would cry out for her, but fortunately, these moments were becoming less frequent. With each passing day, she seemed to get more accustomed to her mother's absence.

"Is your little tummy feeling better now, Emily?" Viola's mother sweetly inquired, having stepped over to us beside her daughter. My heart skipped a beat as Viola's mother spoke my name. I was still utterly smitten with this woman, and still, my tongue seemed paralyzed in her presence, especially after she had to change my full diaper a few days ago. But I didn't need to say anything, for like every toddler, I had a mother who loved nothing more than to speak for and about her child.

"Oh, thanks to Okuobaka D12 globules, Emily is feeling much better now. Emily was initially reluctant to take it, you know how children are with taking medicine, but a little of the pellets in her applesauce and in her milk, and just a few days later, everything was back to normal," she chatted away cheerfully about her more than questionable treatment method to me before I even had the chance to overcome my shyness and respond myself.

I rolled my eyes inwardly. The idea that I might have gotten better even without the remedy, and that probably the only things that really helped were time and my immune system, didn't seem to cross her mind. "I do the same with Viola. A few globules and her stomach is all better," Viola's mother agreed, to my dismay, as she too gently cleaned her daughter's face, so they could get ready to leave.

Quickly, the two of them were engrossed in a conversation about every imaginable kind of alternative treatment one could think of. Ayurveda, homeopathy, Traditional Chinese Medicine, they covered it all. No matter how much of a hurry my mother was in, she always seemed to have time for such topics. So, suddenly, we were waiting patiently until Viola and her mother were ready to leave, despite our supposed tight schedule, just so we could all walk to the foyer together. This allowed the two adults to continue their "important" conversation.

In the foyer, I sat next to my sister, who was already waiting for us, fully dressed. Then, as so often, I silently watched as my mother took off my pink princess slippers and, as a result, slipped on my Minnie Mouse shoes - a scene mirrored by Viola and her mother. I had long become accustomed to such tasks being done for me. Sometimes my mother even let me put on my shoes by myself, but not when she was in as much of a hurry as today. From her perspective, I took far too long for such mundane tasks. She was firmly convinced that everything went much faster when she did it for me.

Admittedly, lately, I had really turned into a little daydreamer, getting distracted during the simplest tasks if what was happening around me seemed more interesting. But why should I have hurried? After all, there were no longer any appointments I needed to keep. Whether I was somewhere ten minutes later or earlier made no difference to my life anymore. I was no longer blamed when we arrived late somewhere, as I was just the little child being brought by my mother or caretaker. At least that was one advantage of being a toddler. However, this did not mean that in important situations, I wasn't capable of getting things done as quickly and well as before, even if the people around me obviously no longer believed that of me.

As the two mothers lost themselves in a lively chatter about alternative treatments while tying our shoes, my mind drifted off to other worlds. I had listened to such conversations too often to feel any desire to pay them any more attention.

Instead, I found myself joyfully imagining what the weekend had in store for me. For the first time, I would have Lea all to myself, as my sister was with her father. I envisioned Lea and me embarking on an exciting treasure hunt in the garden and jumping on the trampoline as if reaching for the sky. A cozy warmth flowed through me at the thought of Lea reading to me at bedtime again, and how her voice would magically transform into various characters. I knew no one who could read aloud as well as she could.

Just as I was considering which stories I wanted Lea to read to me this weekend, the mention of my name suddenly snapped me out of my daydreaming. "You know what really helped with Emily's diaper rash...", I heard my mother say, with a casualness as if she were talking about the weather. I felt my face instantly flush red. Suddenly, I wished for nothing more than to become invisible on the spot. But to my great relief, I didn't need to, as my mother's narrative was abruptly interrupted by the ringing of her phone. For once in my life, it seemed I had luck on my side.

As she apologetically pulled out her phone and held it to her ear, I could see her facial expression shift from carefree contentment to deep concern. During the call, she only said a few words - "I see," "Oh, that's a shame," and "Get well soon" - which raised more questions than they answered. Finally, the conversation ended almost as soon as it had begun, and my mother, visibly dejected, put her phone back in her pocket.

"Is everything alright?" asked Viola's mother, who also noticed the change in my mother's mood. "Lea, our babysitter, just canceled. She's sick and can't look after Emily this weekend," my mother explained, with a hint of heaviness in her voice that immediately spread within me. I had been looking forward to Lea so much.

"Do you happen to know a babysitter who might be available on such short notice?" my mother asked Viola's mother, clearly desperate for a solution to her sudden problem. My mother's question triggered immediate panic in me. The thought of someone other than Lea taking care of me sent shivers down my spine. But, to my relief, Viola's mother just shook her head apologetically. "The only babysitters Viola has are my parents, and I don't know anyone else who babysits. I'm sorry."

"Darn, how am I going to find a babysitter for Emily on such short notice!? If I can't find anyone, I'll inevitably have to cancel my Continuing Legal Education course. Annoying, but there's nothing I can do," she sighed in frustration. Relieved that at least a stranger wouldn't be taking care of me, I breathed a sigh of relief. Only to realize the next moment how crazy the whole situation was. It didn't seem to be even considered that I, in this emergency, could spend the weekend alone. My mother was even willing to cancel her course rather than leave me, a 19-year-old woman, alone.

The worst part, however, was that at that moment I even doubted myself about managing alone. Someone had to change my diapers, dress me, keep me clean, and put me to bed. Deep down, I knew I could do all that by myself, but after weeks of being treated as a toddler, I lacked the deep conviction that this was really the case. What if everyone around me was right, and I really couldn't survive on my own? What if I found myself completely alone and was then helpless? The mere thought of it overwhelmed me and as embarrassing as it was to admit, at that moment I was glad that my mother wouldn't allow me to spend the weekend alone.

Viola's mother, her expression marked by genuine empathy, seemed to truly understand my mother's predicament. You could almost see the wheels turning in her head as she searched for possible alternatives. Then, out of the blue, she came up with an idea: "How about I take care of Emily this weekend?" My mother immediately shook her head vehemently. "Oh no, I really can't accept that. It's too much to ask," she responded quickly, raising her hands in a gesture of refusal. But Viola's mother was persistent. "It would really be no problem," she insisted, "I know what it's like to be a single mother on your own. I would be happy to help you!"

And to my astonishment, after a moment of internal struggle, my mother actually relented. "That's really incredibly kind of you. I don't know how I can thank you," she said, her face suddenly beaming with gratitude. Inside me, however, was a tumult of emotions. The very woman for whom my heart beat was going to take care of me this weekend and ensure that I continued playing the role of a toddler. My mind was on a rollercoaster at the thought of spending an entire weekend with my crush. At first, it almost sounded like a dream, like a scene from my deepest fantasies. But I knew that for Viola's mother, it was not the same. For her, it was probably just a weekend of taking care of an additional toddler and therefore having one more child to diaper. I longed for her closeness, but only if she saw me for what I really was, an intelligent, attractive woman, and not a little child.

During the drive home, I sat quietly, strapped into my child seat in the back of our car, torn by what awaited me. As soon as we arrived home, my mother began packing our things for the weekend in the room I shared with Sophie. In the past, of course, I would have packed my things myself. But that had long since changed. Now, such tasks no longer fell within my responsibilities. I could only watch as my mother made the necessary preparations for my absence, while Sophie and I were allowed to play with our dolls on the floor of the room.

First, after fetching a suitcase for me and one for Sophie, my mother pulled out one of my onesies, adorned with pink princesses, and a matching skirt from a compartment in the changing table. "This is cute, we'll take this," she murmured more to herself as she arranged the clothes in the small suitcase beside her. Silently, I had to watch as she next added a red dress with a kitten print to the suitcase. "And this one," she said, without even seeking my gaze or asking for my opinion. What I thought of these clothes didn't matter, and ultimately it was almost irrelevant, as the only clothes I would have really wanted to wear for the weekend at Viola's mother’s were locked away in my room.

With each piece she chose, my heart sank deeper towards the floor. Just the thought of spending the weekend at Viola's mother's house in these outfits made my stomach churn. Obliviously, without even noticing my inner disapproval, my mother added to the suitcase's contents with another purple dress, followed by a pair of Minnie Mouse shorts with buttons at the bottom and a matching T-shirt. Each piece she packed was designed so that my diaper could be changed if needed, without having to remove anything. It seemed I almost only owned such clothing now. They had become as much a part of me as my diapers. To top it all off, she pulled out my new, one-piece mermaid pajamas and stuffed them in with the rest of the things.

Then, she packed Sophie's suitcase. I glanced enviously at the cheerful, colorful underpants with childish motifs that she was packing for her, only to have to watch shortly after as my mother stored my own "underwear" - which were nothing more than diapers - in Sophie's former diaper bag. Diapers adorned with little mermaids, princesses, and animals gradually found their way into the diaper bag. When my mother finally decided enough diapers were packed for the weekend, the bag was so bulging that she could barely close it. At that moment, I would have sold my soul to the devil just to be able to swap suitcases with Sophie.

Finally, my mother also fetched my potty and placed it next to my suitcase so she wouldn't forget to take it later. I felt the heat rush to my face at the thought of having to use the potty for my big business in front of Viola's mother. When my mother then reached for my teddy bear on the bed, my frustration reached its boiling point. This was too much. "Mum, I... I don't want to take my teddy bear," I begged her.

My mother looked at me in disbelief, as if she could not comprehend the world anymore. "But you fall asleep with him every night, don't you think you'd miss him, and he'd miss you, if you weren't together this weekend?" It was quite possible that I would miss him, but my 19-year-old self wanted to preserve at least a last shred of dignity. It was bad enough that I had adapted so much to my role that I only fell asleep with a stuffed animal at kindergarten and at home.

"No, really, I don't want to take him. It's... embarrassing," I tried to explain the situation to her, but my mother didn't seem to think it was a good idea to let me sleep somewhere else without my favorite stuffed animal. "You don't need to be embarrassed, Emily. Even Sophie packed her stuffed animal." She said this in a tone that suggested if even my sister, who unlike me was potty-trained, brought along a stuffed toy, there was no reason it should be a problem for me. "I'll pack it just in case. If you don't need it, you can just leave it in your bag." And so, to my regret, she also placed the bear in my suitcase.

Resigned, I turned back to playing with Sophie, needing somehow to distract myself from my humiliating existence. Playing had long evolved from a simple pastime into a true refuge for me. It represented the only way to leave my bleak reality behind. I could have never imagined finding so much comfort in it, but that was how it was.

Sophie had already prepared a little tea party for us and our dolls. One of the dolls, a princess with an elegant, red dress and long, blonde hair, was already seated at the small doll table, and Sophie had set up four sets of tiny cups and plates for us. I picked up my favorite doll, also a princess but wearing a yellow dress and with dark hair, and joined them.

"Princess Lila and I would be delighted if Princess Rosalinde and you would come to our tea party," Sophie said, turning to me with a sparkle in her eyes that made me forget my frustration momentarily. With a finely feigned, aristocratic voice, I responded, pretending as if my doll in my hand was speaking: "Thank you for the invitation, Princess Lila and Sophie. Emily and I would be pleased to be your guests."

We delved deeper and deeper into our fantasy world. After our tea, we went on a quest for an imaginary treasure and fought against an evil dragon. I had to become a toddler again to realize how wonderful it was to lose oneself in one's own fantasy worlds. I was so engrossed in the game that I didn't even notice our mother stepping up beside us after she had finished packing our stuff. "Are you two playing nicely together?" she finally asked, after a moment of quietly and contentedly watching us play. I nodded enthusiastically, and Sophie agreed as well. "Yes, Mom! We found a treasure and defeated a dragon," Sophie reported proudly.

"Wow, great," our mother said with feigned, exuberant enthusiasm. "I need to pack a few things for myself. Can you two stay here and be good while I quickly go to my bedroom?" We both nodded, "Wonderful," my mother said, before her gaze turned to me. "Let me just quickly check if you're still dry, Emily." She bent down and meticulously inspected my diaper. She didn't even need to undo the buttons on my crotch to realize that my diaper should have been changed long ago.

Enviously, I watched Sophie as my mother led me to the changing table, Princess Rosalinde tightly clutched in my hands. Despite the discomfort of my wet diaper already irritating my skin, I was far from happy about the prospect of spending the next few minutes on the dull, boring changing table. I longed to continue playing with the dolls on the floor like Sophie, to further escape the dreary reality. "You'll still have plenty of time to play once you have a clean diaper on," my mother tried to soften my clear reluctance to the diaper change. "Yes, but while Princess Rosalinde and I are stuck on the changing table, Sophie and Princess Lila will probably be having exciting adventures without us," I retorted with a tinge of annoyance. "Oh, don't worry," my mother reassured me with a smile, "they're likely to take a little tea break and wait with further adventures until you two are able to join them again."

But I had my doubts. Too many times, I had already missed out on the greatest adventures of the two, whether because I was being changed or already in bed, and there was hardly anything more frustrating than only hearing about the experiences later, without having been part of them myself. The fear of missing yet another exciting adventure flooded my mind as the snaps of my onesie were opened. In my desperation, I tried to keep Sophie and Princess Lila in sight, determined to ensure that they really were just having tea during my absence.

Therefore, my mother had some trouble unfastening the adhesive strips of my diaper, as I kept sitting up to ensure I didn't miss what was happening on the floor. It didn't bother me when she finally managed to remove my soaked diaper, exposing my bare bottom - this had long become normal for me. No, what irritated me was that because of the silly diaper change, I couldn't continue playing with Sophie and would probably miss out on an exciting adventure. In my fantasy world, I was a brave adventurer, no obstacle too great, not a 19-year-old still wetting herself. So, it was unbearable for me to have to leave my wonderful dream world for something that was none of my concern and not my problem. And by now, a wet diaper was my mother's problem, not mine.

My eagerness not to miss anything that Princess Lila and Sophie were doing made it impossible for me to stay still on the changing table, even after my diaper was undone. Again and again, I stretched up or turned to the side, as I couldn't see what was happening on the floor below otherwise. "Emily, can you please stay still for a moment so I can clean you up properly? It's difficult when you keep wriggling like this," my mother gently explained, and once more spread my legs apart after I had closed them again in an attempt to sit up better.

Annoyed, I gave in briefly and stayed still so that my mother could wipe the last bits of urine and baby powder from my vulva and bottom with the unpleasantly cold wet wipe. But as soon as she bent down to grab a fresh diaper, I seized the opportunity to sit up again and peek at Sophie. I had been right – of course, they weren't just sitting quietly drinking tea; they were far from the tea table, embarking on God knows what kind of adventure. "You see, Princess Rosalinde, they've just set off without us," I explained frustratedly to the doll in my arms.

My mother let out a near sigh as she stood back up and noticed that I had once again abandoned my position on the changing table. "Look, Emily, I've picked out the diaper with the little princesses for you. With this diaper, you're just as much a princess as Rosalinde and Lila, and if you stay still for a little bit longer, you can show it to the other two," she tried to coax me into calmness. But her words didn't really reach me. All I cared about was what was happening on the floor. "Princess Lila and Sophie are no longer at the tea table and are probably having an adventure without Princess Rosalinde and me," I explained the situation to her in frustration, without really responding to her words. I was already trying to get up and walk off the changing table with Princess Rosalinde to join their adventure, completely ignoring the fact that my crotch was currently completely bare, but my mother firmly pushed me back into position. "Emily, you can continue playing with them in a minute, but right now you need to stay still so I can finish diapering you!" she admonished me, now with a much more serious expression.

I stayed on the changing table, but staying still was something I just couldn't manage. "Emily, please stay still!" she admonished me again, now visibly annoyed, as she struggled to spread the diaper under me while I incessantly tried to peek at Sophie and Princess Lila. Reluctantly, I let her proceed for a moment, only to sit up again as soon as she came with the baby powder. "Emily, Mommy doesn't have all day to change your diaper! You know I still have a lot to do, please stay lying down now!" she said, now clearly irritated, and pushed me back into the correct position. "But Mum, I just want to see what Princess Lila and Sophie are doing. Maybe the evil dragon has reappeared. Maybe they need our help!" I protested and sat up again.

But this time, my mother had enough. "Emily, that's enough! If you don't stay still, you'll be sitting in the quiet corner for the next 10 minutes, and no more doll playing for today! Understood!?" she made it unequivocally clear. Bitterly, I lay back down. "Then it's your fault if they fall victim to the dragon," I said defiantly, but let her proceed, so she finally managed to finish diapering me.

"See how quickly it goes if you just keep still. You could have been back to playing much sooner if you had just stayed still," my mother explained, exhausted, after she had closed the snaps of my onesie. She lifted me onto her hip and brought me back to Sophie and Princess Lila, along with Princess Rosalinde, whom I was still holding in my arms. "Look, Sophie and Princess Lila," she said affectionately, as she gently set me down next to Sophie on the floor, "Emily is now a real princess too because she's wearing special underwear reserved only for true princesses!" She then lifted my skirt to reveal my princess-themed diaper, which cheekily peeked out from under my onesie in some places.

Ashamed, I lowered my gaze. Even in my fantasy world, this was too embarrassing for me. But contrary to my expectation, I wasn’t laughed at for my undergarment. "How delightful to see you safely back from your journey, Princess Emily," Sophie greeted me with respect instead. For the rest of our playtime, I was indeed Princess Emily, and at least in that moment, my underwear was no longer a source of embarrassment. On the contrary, I proudly incorporated it into our game, showing it off to anyone we encountered on our adventure who didn’t believe I was a real princess. Meanwhile, our mother disappeared from our room, taking care of all those things we as children didn't have to worry about.

It's strange how differently you perceive the world as a child. In the past, I probably would have been just as stressed as my mother, trying to get everything ready in time for our departure. But now I was free of these constraints. I was aware of how stressed my mother was and how many things she had to do, but it didn’t really penetrate my perfect world. While my mother packed bags, searched for things, and even prepared dinner in between, the only thing I had to worry about was distracting myself enough with games so that I didn't get bored – and it was no different for Sophie. So, it was no surprise that after dinner, we got into the car deeply relaxed, while our mother, sweaty and rushed, heaved our suitcases into the car.

Gathering her remaining strength, my mother helped me into my child seat, while Sophie on the other side of the car was already climbing into hers independently. It was a routine procedure, almost mechanical, as my mother leaned over me and fastened the belt across my lap. But in that moment, a realization struck me like a bolt. Why was I always buckled in first and not Sophie? I recalled our recent car rides, only to realize that I had always been the first to be strapped in. Hadn't it been different at the beginning?

Disgruntled that I had been forced into the role of the needier, younger sister in yet another aspect, I looked at the belt that tied me tightly to my child seat. It pertly pushed up my skirt, involuntarily exposing the crotch of my onesie. My princess diaper, which had underscored my noble, aristocratic status in the game and of which I had been so proud, was now grotesquely squeezed out at the sides of my onesie by the tight belt, suddenly losing all its royal semblance. Instead, it became a blatant symbol of my lack of independence. Disheartened, I looked over at my sister, from whose belt no diaper bulged. How could I blame my mother for seeing me as the one who needed more care, when I was so clearly lagging behind my sister in toilet training? Yet, I felt provoked by the fact that she now demoted me on so many subtle levels compared to my sister, just because I was not potty-trained like her.

Once Sophie was securely fastened in her seat, we set off towards Viola's mother's house. Only after dropping me off there would my mother take Sophie to her father and then head to her course. With every meter closer to Viola's mother's house, I could feel my mouth becoming drier. After the carefree play with Sophie, during which I had been able to completely block out the sobering reality of my existence, I was now truly back in the here and now, and the regained awareness of my absurd role seemed to literally steal my saliva. Thanks for nothing, sympathetic nervous system.

Inevitably, my eyes caught the multivitamin juice lying in the compartment next to my mother. "Mum, could I please have the juice?" I asked, hoping to alleviate the excruciating dryness in my mouth. My mother cast a brief, slightly skeptical glance in the rearview mirror, but then reached for the bottle. "But be careful, Emily," she cautioned me, her voice tinged with a distinct undertone of maternal distrust regarding my dexterity, as she handed me the drink.

A hint of defiance was in my voice as I retorted, "I can still drink without spilling anything, even if you might doubt that." Determinedly, I lifted the bottle to my lips and took a sip, reinforcing my claim. "See," I announced heroically, "I drank and everything stayed dry."

Forests, meadows, and fields passed by as we drove through the landscape. Yet, my nervousness persisted, and it didn't get any better when I relieved myself in my diaper halfway through the journey. Not that I wasn't accustomed to using my diaper. But I had still hoped to at least stay dry until we arrived at Viola's mother's, even though I had long lost control over that. It was anything but helpful for my inner tension to arrive at my crush's place, not only in my childlike appearance but also in a wet diaper. I had firmly intended to show Viola's mother that I was by no means a small, dependent child, as it might have appeared in kindergarten.

"Emily, can I have a sip of the juice too?" Sophie interrupted my train of thought. I passed her the juice without comment, and my mother didn't object either. It was typical that she, of course, didn't caution Sophie to be careful, even though, if anyone was likely to spill the juice, it was my little sister. With a spiteful hope that she would spill the juice on her blue shirt, I watched her bring the too-large bottle to her lips with her small hands. I loved playing with Sophie and knew that it wasn't her fault how I was treated, but it didn't change the feeling of envy I had towards her because of her countless privileges. But, unfortunately, she handed the bottle back to me without spilling a single drop. Annoyed, I took the bottle back and took another sip to alleviate the still-dry feeling in my mouth.

"Your destination is on the right," announced the softly modulated, female voice of the navigation system, as we slowly approached a tiny house at the end of a quaint village street. In that moment, enveloped in an almost tangible tension, I wished for nothing more than to jump out of the moving car and escape the impending situation. But the child locks on both the back door and my seat unfortunately deprived me of this means of escape.

My mouth was completely dry as we drove onto the uneven driveway of the little house. Instinctively, I pressed the bottle in my hand to my lips again, taking a deep, long gulp in hopes of somehow swallowing down the rising unease. I tried to convince myself that I would get through this weekend, just as I had overcome every unpleasant situation during my therapy. But just as I removed the bottle from my lips, our car hit a pothole, and a wave of the remaining juice in the bottle spilled over my white onesie. Great, just what I needed.

 

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