Couples Therapy

Chapter 3

When Angela arrived at the therapist’s office, she waved happily at the receptionist.

“You look, like, totally pwetty today!” said the bimbo.

“You look pwetty too!” said Angela. And she meant it. The receptionist’s pigtails were so cute! For a moment Angela wished her own hair was in pigtails, but then she remembered that was only really meant for little girls, even if they did look really good on the woman in front of her. Her own hair was in a ponytail today, tied back with a large pink scrunchie. That was much more respectable and grown-up. She wasn’t a ditzy receptionist after all.

Eric led her by the hand into the office itself, where the therapist was waiting with the tablet in his hands.

Angela squealed excitedly when she saw it, and the two men laughed.

“Here you go, sweetie,” the therapist said, handing her the screen once she’d settled down on the sofa next to Eric. Her husband had his arm around her waist, holding her body close to him.

“Is it safe if I see the screen?” he asked the therapist.

“It’s fine. The program only affects girls like little Angela here.”

Angela didn’t understand what they were talking about, but she didn’t care. The tablet had come to life, and she was engrossed in the wonderful, beautiful sparkling spirals once again.

“You like your pretty lights, don’t you Angela?” the therapist asked her.

She nodded. They were so pretty.

“Good girl. We’re going to have another talk, sweetie, just like we did yesterday. You wet the bed last night, didn’t you Angela?”

Angela turned red, but nodded again. It was so embarrassing to talk about, even though she knew the therapist was a professional. It was much easier to let herself be drawn in by the bright colours.

“That’s right. You woke up in a yucky wet diaper. You’re such a stupid baby, aren’t you Angela?”

Angela blushed even more brightly. Stupid? She wasn’t stupid, was she? She wasn’t a stupid baby. She shook her head, frowning.

“Look at the lights, little one. A clever, grown-up woman wouldn’t have wet the bed. She wouldn’t have soaked her night-time nappy like a silly little two-year-old, Angela. Only a baby would do something like that. A stupid, overgrown baby like you. We already agreed that you’re a dumb bitch, remember? Well, being a stupid baby too isn’t much different, is it?”

Angela shook her head again, but she couldn’t tell whether she was agreeing with him or not. Maybe she was stupid. A stupid baby.

“That’s right, it’s very similar. You’re just a stupid baby. A stupid baby who wets the bed. But it’s not so bad being a baby. You get to be taken care of all the time, and you like being taken care of, don’t you Angela? Like a princess?”

Angela nodded, still staring at the swirling lights. That was what she wanted, wasn’t it? To be treated like a princess? That’s why she’d married Eric in the first place, she remembered. So he’d look after her. So she could live like a princess.

“Yes, you’re a stupid baby who needs someone to take care of her. You need someone to look after you because you’re a dirty girl, aren’t you Angela?”

Angela focused, trying to clear her mind of the fuzziness. Something about this didn’t feel right. Was she a dirty girl? She wasn’t sure. It sounded familiar. In fact, she’s sure she’s thought of herself as a dirty girl before. A bit dirty. A bit naughty. She’d done some dirty things hadn’t she? She’d done some dirty things with men who weren’t her husband. But the therapist didn’t know about that, did he?

“You’re a dirty girl, Angela. A messy girl. A messy girl who needs someone to take care of her and clean her up.”

Angela frowned. Messy? No… she was dirty. Not messy. But weren’t they the same thing? Her head felt like it was full of cotton candy. She was probably confused. She could be so stupid sometimes. She was a stupid baby.

“You make all kinds of messes, sweetie. You make messes in your diapers, and not just at night…”

The therapist kept talking, but Angela lost herself in the colours on the screen. She was such a silly, messy girl. She needed her Daddy. She needed her Dada.

She became vaguely aware that someone was taking off her clothes. Was it Eric? Were they going to fuck? Even though she was a stupid baby, she was also a dumb bitch. And dumb bitches got fucked whenever a man wanted to fuck them. But no, she wasn’t getting fucked. Someone was changing her into her nappy. Was it bedtime? No, it didn’t matter that it was bedtime. Stupid babies needed to wear their nappies all the time.

“…but when you’re at home, there won’t be any need for other clothes,” the therapist was saying. “You like it when Daddy looks at your naked body. You’re a dirty girl. It’s silly to have your boobies out all the time, and you love being silly. And your Daddy needs to be able to see if you need your diaper changed too, because you’re such a stupid baby that you won’t even tell him if you’re wet or messy. You’ll wait to be checked like a silly little girl.”

Angela nodded. She was so silly. So stupid.

“…and if Daddy’s going to be taking care of you, it’s only fair that you treat him with respect, wouldn’t you agree? You need to look up to your husband more, Angela, and I know the perfect way to do that. All you have to do is…”

The therapist’s words echoed in the back of her mind, settling there. She felt dumb. She felt ditzy. Ditzy like the receptionist. Was Angela like her? She frowned. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be like her. Hadn’t Angela hated her at the beginning? Hadn’t she thought the receptionist was a bimbo? A vapid, overgrown six-year-old?

She realised she was still staring at the swirling patterns on the tablet with her mouth open, a line of drool hanging from her lips. “Something’s wrong…” she mumbled, interrupting the therapist. “I’ve been acting wike… like a child. You’ve been doing something to me… Eric’s been…”

She had to look away from the lights. She had to stop this. Otherwise she was going to end up like that moron on reception, some sick little fetish fantasy for her husband. Worse. She’d be lucky to end up as mature as that brainless bimbo. Daddy… Eric had something else in mind for her. Bedwetting. Nappies. He wanted to take away her adulthood. He wanted to punish her for cheating on him! That’s what all this was about!

“Not to worry,” said the receptionist, chuckling. “This always happens around this point. The suggestions get a bit much for the poor little girls. They still have their dignity, somewhere deep down. But it’s no use.”

Before Angela could do anything, the lights on the tablet became even brighter, brilliantly bright. They swirled faster on the screen, and Angela felt herself slipping back into them. No… She had to stop looking. She didn’t want to be turned into a big baby! She didn’t deserve this… She deserved… She deserved to be looked after. Yes. She deserved to be treated like a princess. A little princess… A sweet, innocent little princess who never says no to Daddy.

Angela blinked, and the session was over. The pretty lights had gone! She pouted and looked up at the two men. Eric was on his feet and the therapist was talking to him, saying some grown-up stuff she didn’t understand. Something about a woman’s rightful place, whatever that was.

Angela got up too, her diaper crinkling loudly under her frock and squishing between her legs. She must have peed in it at some point, but she didn’t remember when. Little girls like her couldn’t tell when they went potty in their pants. The soggy thing peaked out below the hem of her dress by at least two inches. Angela blushed. It was embarrassing, but she knew it didn’t matter if people saw her wet nappy. She was just a stupid baby.

“And she won’t need any more sessions?” Daddy asked the therapist.

“No. The conditioning takes a little time to fully sink it, but she’ll be all done by tonight.”

The two men shook hands.

“Ready to go home, baby girl?” Daddy cooed, turning to look at her.

Angela replied with a big smile, and held out her hand for Daddy to hold.

“Good girl,” he said, and her princess parts tingled delightfully.

They walked home together just like they had yesterday. He walked smoothly while she toddled along beside him, her diaper pushing her thighs apart like the big dumb baby she was, and she didn’t let go of his hand once until they were all the way home.