Regression Therapy

Chapter Description: Catherine has a lot to think about and can't stop replaying the events of that day's therapy session. Meanwhile, Emily is having to live with more and more restrictions resulting in her having to ask her wife for some rather embarrassing help.

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Catherine sat and swirled the wine in her glass. On the laptop on the table in front of her she was watching the recording of her appointment with Emily. She often did this to make sure she hadn’t missed anything or to make additional notes. This time was different. She didn’t have her notebook out; she wasn’t planning on writing anything at all. Instead, she was watching Emily intently, not even bothering to listen for questions or answers.

For the sixth or seventh time that evening Catherine watched Emily’s tantrum. It was exactly like watching a child, the likeness was uncanny. As Emily stormed out of her office Catherine watched herself get up from her seat and shake her head. She walked over to the camera and stared into the lens for a second before the recording ended.

Catherine let out a deep breath and finished her glass of wine. She couldn’t stop thinking about what she had seen. Emily, in recent weeks, had seemingly become increasingly child-like. It was impossible to ignore. Combined with what Amelia had said previously it had Catherine’s mind spinning, or maybe that was the wine. She hadn’t really been paying attention to how much she had been drinking. Catherine sat up and pulled her laptop forwards to start typing. She felt like she was somehow committing a crime just by searching for the words she had never expected to use: Regression therapy.

The information online was exactly what Catherine expected it to be. There was no real concrete evidence it helped people, it was largely untested and that very few respected therapists recommended it. She knew that what Amelia was suggesting wasn’t regression therapy in the more common use of the term either, she meant it in a very literal way.

Catherine stood up and walked over to her bookshelf. It was packed with books that were there as much for show as anything else. She looked at the spines of the various tomes and pulled a few of the shelf to take back to the couch. She searched yet again for any references to regression therapy. She wasn’t even sure what she was looking for. After Amelia had brought it up before she had done much of the same research. Maybe she was just looking for something to validate an idea that had implanted itself like a seed in her head and was germinating.

Nothing. There was nothing to suggest regression therapy had much value. Catherine put the books down and slumped back on the couch. Intellectually she knew it wasn’t right, unethical even, but she couldn’t stop thinking about it. The Emily she had been seeing at her last sessions was more like a child than an adult. Perhaps Amelia was right. Perhaps in this one specific case regression therapy would actually be useful.

“Get a grip on yourself…” Catherine muttered as she shook her head, “It is quackery and you know it.”

Catherine lowered the screen on the laptop and turned on the television. She was thinking about all this too much, she needed to distract herself. Obsessing over such a ridiculous idea would do no good to anyone. The television came on and Catherine tried to immerse herself in whatever was on. It didn’t work. Not for a second was she distracted from the unwanted thoughts in her mind. After a few minutes she gave up and turned the TV off again, putting her head in her hands she really wondered if she was going to do what she thought she was.

Catherine picked up her phone and scrolled to Amelia’s number. She took a deep breath before dialling. When it started to ring, she almost hoped no one would pick up on the other end. It wasn’t too late to pull out.

“Hello?” Amelia’s voice was slightly slow and almost slurred.

“Hey, it’s me.” Catherine said.

“Catherine… it’s one in the morning, what’s wrong?” Amelia asked.

“Is it?” Catherine was surprised.

Catherine looked up at the wall where a clock told her Amelia was indeed telling the truth. She must’ve lost track of the time at some point during the evening. So immersed in her research that she hadn’t paid any attention to the clock.

“What’s up?” Amelia asked. Aside from a yawn it seemed Amelia had quickly woken up.

“I… I’ve been reviewing the footage from Emily’s appointment earlier today.” Catherine said, “Did she tell you why she left early?”

“No, she didn’t say anything about it.” Amelia replied, “Why?”

Catherine paused. She was stood at the edge now. She could either back away and let things continue as normal or plunge over the top, where her life went afterwards was a mystery, one that would only be solved by walking that path. A dangerous path that few would suggest and was likely to cause her no end of problems if discovered. And yet that itch was still there. The curiosity about pushing limits.

“Catherine?” Amelia’s said.

“Look, what you said to me... about regression therapy. It’s highly unethical, there’s little evidence that it works, it’s completely unorthodox and I’ve never, ever even contemplated it before.” Catherine said quickly. Each word tumbling over the last to get out of her mouth

Catherine stopped. For a few seconds there was almost complete silence. She was staring forwards at the laptop, slowly she lifted the screen to see a still frame of Emily’s session earlier that day, the computer had stopped right on the moment Emily had thrown one of the pillows on to the floor. In that second, she was almost completely indistinguishable from a toddler throwing a tantrum. On the other end of the phone Catherine could hear sheets shuffling, Amelia was sitting up in bed.

“But…” Amelia finally prompted.

“But…” Catherine let the word linger, “It might help in this situation.”

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Emily pouted on the couch. This was crazy. Now that Amelia said she wasn’t allowed to touch her own diapers she had little choice to use them and it was gross. She didn’t understand how this could possibly be helping her, she was having trouble keeping her pants dry, surely not letting her use the toilet was just going to make the problem worse. There was a part of Emily that felt vindictive towards this new rule. Sure, she thought, if I can’t touch the diapers have fun changing them!

It was childish but that was something Emily found herself having little control over. Her diaper was already warm and wet but Emily needed to go again, she barely blinked as her bladder unleashed. She hadn’t really been paying attention to how often she was wetting herself, each diaper change was an inconvenience for her wife so it was Amelia’s problem.

Emily felt a feeling of relaxation go through her as she closed her eyes and let the urine splash off the wet padding and against her skin. When she finished, she stood up and, judging from the heaviness of her underwear, decided it was time to go ask for a change. This was something she would never get used to. The humiliation of having to go to Amelia to ask for a new diaper hadn’t lessened despite how many times it had already happened.

Amelia was in her office upstairs. Emily made her way to the landing slowly with the thick padding rubbing against her thighs and keeping her legs apart. She stopped at the top of the stairs and lifted the bottom of her skirt. The diaper was bulging out in front, the padding had expanded quite a bit and now it was pulled taut and round. Emily couldn’t see behind her but if it curved the same way all the way to the back it must’ve looked like a sphere.

“Amelia?” Emily called. She was standing next to the bathroom. Quite a juxtaposition to the diaper she was wearing.

There was no answer. Emily sighed and walked down the landing. It was stupid but Amelia liked to treat her home office as if it was at her workplace. She didn’t usually respond to being called, you had to go and knock on the door to get her attention. Emily thought it was stupid. If she worked from home, she would spend her days downstairs playing video games and just occasionally filling in a box on a spreadsheet to make it look like she was working. Emily knocked on the door.

“Amelia?” Emily called again.

This time Emily heard the sound of an office chair rolling backwards. Footsteps came to the door and Amelia opened it with a pleasant smile. She’d been in a particularly good mood for the last few days. It annoyed Emily who thought everyone should be as concerned by her recent problems as she was.

“Something up?” Amelia asked.

“You know what I need.” Emily mumbled with surly embarrassment.

“Do I?” Amelia replied.

“Come on…” Emily whined, “Why do I have to say it every time!?”

“Because you shouldn’t be embarrassed about your diapers, baby.” Amelia replied softly, “It’s best to normalise them.”

“Who told you that? Catherine?” Emily snorted with derision. She didn’t have a lot of respect for most of the advice the therapist gave.

“Did you want something?” Amelia asked.

Emily sighed and looked up at the ceiling. This was so stupid. She felt like she was being treated like a child. Sure, she’d developed a problem but she wasn’t the only adult to have it. She was willing to bet not many other grown-ups had to behave this way. She didn’t want to go along with the stupid rules but Amelia had put her foot down after she’d had to scrub the couch cushion for a solid hour to get the stain out. Even then it was still faintly visible as a permanent reminder of Emily’s weakness.

“I need a…” Emily fought with herself to get the word out, “A diaper change.”

“Of course, go wait in your room and I’ll be there in a minute.” Amelia said.

Emily turned away and as she did so she felt a hand patting the back of her skirt right where the diaper was. She immediately jumped away and turned around angrily.

“Don’t do that!” Emily exclaimed in annoyance.

Amelia simply giggled as she closed the office door again. Emily huffed and puffed as she turned back to the spare bedroom, a room that had been increasingly referred to as HER room. Amelia hadn’t invited her back to the master bedroom and Emily was too stubborn to ask for it. Emily made her way to the bedroom. A routine had developed where she got the towel, they put on the bed ready, and then laid down on top of it with nothing covering the diaper. Nothing made her feel quite as small as laying on the bed with her soaked diaper exposed waiting for Amelia.

It seemed to take an age for Amelia to arrive at the bedroom. Certainly, it was longer than the promised minute and as she walked in Emily stared at her with annoyance. She doubted her wife would make a baby wait this long for a diaper change so… Emily stopped herself from that line of thought. Was she really comparing herself to a baby?

“Right, let’s get you sorted. I have a work call in ten minutes so let’s get to it.” Amelia walked straight over to the chest of drawers on the opposite side of the room.

The top drawer was where Emily’s underwear was kept. It wasn’t a place she liked to look; it was just full of diapers now. The panties she had used to wear had seemingly vanished completely. Amelia came over to the bed with a diaper in one hand and a tub of wipes in the other. She said nothing as she started to peel the tapes off the front of the padding. When it was lowered the smell of urine wafted around the room.

“You need to be drinking more.” Amelia said.

Emily rolled her eyes and looked away. As she did so she felt a rumble in her tummy that reminded her of something she needed to do before she was taped up in another crinkly prison. She sat up as the new diaper was unfolded.

“I need to go to the toilet.” Emily quickly said.

“Couldn’t you have just used the diaper?” Amelia asked with a weary sigh.

“No!” Emily said with horror at the thought, “Besides you wouldn’t want to change that, right? It’s easier this way.”

As Amelia said nothing but just looked at Emily the half-naked woman’s tummy rumbled menacingly again. Her control hadn’t improved and she needed to get to the toilet right away. She stood up and ran, naked, out of the room towards the bathroom.

“Just don’t be too long!” Amelia called after her, “I’m supposed to be working!”

Emily closed the bathroom door and sat down just in time. Once she was finished and cleaned up, she flushed the toilet and made her way back to the bedroom. She felt a sense of accomplishment and almost wished someone would praise her for making it to the toilet on time. Amelia had the diaper laid out and Emily sat on top of it. She had barely finished lying back when Amelia pulled the front up between her legs and taped it closed. Emily had to admit that even with it being done in a rush it was better than her wonky own efforts.

“Right, come see me if you need the potty.” Amelia said as she quickly left the room to go back to her home office.

“I wish you wouldn’t call it that…” Emily muttered as her cheeks glowed red.

This whole situation was bad enough without Amelia using terms like that. Emily got dressed again. Next to the soaked diaper that had just come off this dry one felt very light and thin. She hadn’t worn panties in a while now and she wondered how strange they would feel after getting used to all this padding. Hopefully she would find out soon. Even though Emily’s problem had only gotten worse she still couldn’t countenance the idea that she might be in diapers for a long time, perhaps even forever.

Emily left the bedroom feeling satisfied that her high-risk plan was still working. She had managed to avoid soiling herself by being smart and going during her changes, even if she didn’t feel the urgent need to go, she could usually force something out. However, with how little warning she got sometimes it didn’t feel like a strategy that could hold up long term. Her body was seemingly always on the brink of betraying her as evidenced by the little dribble of urine that soaked into the padding of her disposable as she headed back downstairs.

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