Regression Therapy

Chapter Description: Emily wants a chance at growing up and Amelia is going to give it to her. However, being grown up means taking on some adult responsibilities that Emily has been shirking since long before her her personal circumstances changed. How will she cope?

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Emily tried her best. It all felt so weird. The baby clothes were back in the closet, the bars on the bed had been removed, the playpen and toys had disappeared, things were almost back to normal. The one thing Emily couldn’t leave behind was the diapers, for obvious reasons, though she was now allowed to change them herself which was a very strange feeling.

It was difficult. Emily found she had to learn how to do a lot of relatively simple chores because she had never spent much time doing them before. Unfortunately, she wasn’t very good at them. The first time she tried operating the washing machine she ended up accidentally turning all of Amelia’s whites a light shade of pink when she left some colourful stuff in the batch. She had managed to drop a plate when emptying the dishwasher, she had left a stain on the carpet when she used the wrong cleaner, and when she had briefly tried helping in the garden, she ended up cutting the flowers and leaving the weeds. Every time she made a mistake, she felt so small, especially when she was told off afterwards. Several times she almost found herself in tears.

She was included in decisions made around the house and was talked to like an adult. Which was difficult to get used to. Every time she was asked her opinion on something she ended up just shrugging her shoulders or saying, “I dunno.”

That was something that didn’t change and Emily was getting increasingly embarrassed about it. Emily was still drooling everywhere, she had to keep a packet of tissues with her at all times, and her speech was still not right. It had been bad when she was a “baby” but now she was an adult and she was still lisping and slurring as if she hadn’t mastered speech.

What really worried Emily was the job interview she had lined up. It had been quite a long time since she had last had a job and just waiting for it was causing her all sorts of anxiety. It was a simple data entry job at an office, she’d only been able to swing it because the person hiring was a friend of Catherine.

“This is a real opportunity.” Amelia reminded Emily as they drove to the interview, “Are you ready?”

“Stop putting pressure on her!” Catherine playfully said as she patted Amelia on the shoulder.

Emily swallowed nervously. She was in the back though thankfully not in the car seat. The overgrown toddler seat was still on the backseat and Emily was sitting next to it. She looked at it with complicated emotions. It seemed to represent everything she was trying to get away from and yet there was a certain comfort to it. In a state of anxiety like she was in right then the car seat seemed almost preferable. At least then she only had to worry about being seen.

Wearing her nicest and most formal dress for the interview, Emily almost felt like a fully-fledged grown-up. It was only the wet diaper underneath that reminded her where she was coming from. It had been dry when they had left the house but even the short drive had been enough for Emily to need it. Any chance at potty training seemed a long way off.

“You’ll be fine.” Catherine said as she turned and looked back at Emily, “This is really just a formality. My friend says the job’s yours already really.”

Emily watched as a large building loomed up in the distance. Amelia steered the car into the parking lot and pulled up. For a couple of seconds Emily stayed in the car looking at the building and fiddling nervously with her fingers. She wished she had her pacifier… No, she needed to stop thinking like that.

“Good luck.” Amelia said.

Emily opened the door and stepped outside. She started walking towards the building feeling more nervous than ever. Glancing back at the car she saw Catherine and Amelia waving; it was like having two very supportive moms. Emily turned forwards and puffed out her cheeks as she walked across the lot to the automatic sliding doors.

The lobby of the building was air conditioned and as Emily stepped over the threshold she was hit by the cooler air. On the far side of the large room were a couple of elevators, to the left there was a desk with a couple of receptionists behind it. On the right was a waiting area. There were a lot of people in suits talking around small tables or waiting for something. Emily felt incredibly out of place. This was a world she didn’t feel like she belonged to. She started making her way across the lobby to the bathrooms. Knowing she had virtually no control of either her bladder or bowels she wanted to go and do her best to empty herself before her interview, just in case.

“Can I help you?” A receptionist asked as Emily started walking.

“I, erm, I’m here for an interview on…” Emily started.

“Emily, right? Emily Davies?” The receptionist was already typing on her computer. Emily looked over to the bathroom but what to the desk instead. She could always visit the toilet afterwards.

“Yeth.” Emily heard her lisp and winced. She was doing her best to articulate everything as carefully as possible. She saw the receptionist’s eyes dart up to look at her.

“OK, you can head straight up.” The receptionist said with a smile.

“Oh, I… I thought I wath early?” Emily replied.

“You are, but the person interviewing you as asked us to send you right up.” The receptionist said with her professional smile.

“OK.” Emily turned away from the desk and started walking towards the elevators at the back of the room.

The toilet would have to wait. Maybe once she got up to the floor, she was going to she could quickly disappear into a cubicle before the interview started. She was alone in the elevator, which was nice, though as she watched the floor counter tick up, she felt increasingly nervous. Imposter Syndrome was kicking in, not that she couldn’t do the job but that she shouldn’t be there among all these professionals at all. Her diaper had never felt so big and obvious.

Emily spotted the bathrooms a little down the hall and started heading that way. A door behind her opened and an older man stuck his head out.

“Emily? Please, come in. My name’s Fred Walker.” The older man smiled and went back into his office holding the door open with an outstretched hand.

It seemed rude to tell him to wait, Emily thought, when this was an interview and she was supposed to be giving the best impression of herself. She looked at the bathroom again and then took a deep breath as she turned back down the hallway and walked into the office. It was a neat looking room with a desk opposite the door and hanging about it a rather large oil painting of the building they were currently in. Emily walked inside feeling like a child called to the principal’s office more than a prospective employee.

“Have a seat. I hope you found us without issue.” Fred said as he indicated a comfortable looking chair in front of the desk.

“We did, Mithter Walker.” Emily lisped. She was nervous and finding it harder to get her mouth to do what she wanted.

“Please, call me Fred.” The manager said with a warm smile as he sat down behind his desk.

The man seemed nice. If Emily hadn’t been so nervous and unsure of herself, she was sure it would’ve put her at ease. As it was, she could feel her heartrate and thoughts going at a mile per minute as she sank down into the chair and felt her warm diaper press against her body. She swallowed and tried to compose herself as Fred sat down opposite her.

“Alright, well, why don’t you tell me a little about yourself?” Fred asked as he sat back in his chair. It was clear he was trying to make this all seem as informal as possible.

“Me? Well, I’m a woman who only wants to lay around at home watching TV and playing games. I’m so bad at being an adult my wife relegated me to a baby and I’m not sure if she was wrong to do that. I’m helplessly incontinent, drool everywhere and mostly drink breastmilk even when trying to be “big” because I love the taste. Oh, and did I mention I’ve been replaced as wife by my therapist who bangs my wife more nights than not whilst I lay in the spare bedroom with my princess parts straining in their cage?”

“Emily?” Fred said gently, “A little about yourself?”

“Oh, erm…” Emily shook her head to clear her mind, “I dun know what to thay.”

Every time Emily’s mouth failed to make exactly the sound, she wanted it felt like a fresh knife stabbed into her tiny amount of confidence. She saw the way Fred looked at her, like she was a little girl.

“Well, what are your hobbies?” Fred asked patiently.

“Hobbies? Well, recently I’ve been playing with a lot of toys. I’ve become proficient in being towers with blocks and making scenes with my dolls. Could I offer you a pretend cup of tea, Mr. Walker? My teddy bear says it’s the nicest he’s ever tasted.”

“I…” Emily tried to think of something to say. What did grown-ups like to do?

“Just relax, Emily.” Fred said with a warm smile, “I can see you’re nervous. There’s really nothing to worry about. Shall we move on?”

Emily nodded her head and looked down at her feet. None of this was helping her feel like anything more than a child. Right then, she longed to be back in the playpen being a good girl for Mommy and Catherine. She watched her potential future boss note some things down.

“Alright, so as you know this is an office job. There will be a lot of typing and organising of documents. Do you have any experience of that?” Fred asked.

“Typing? After all the time as a baby even typing on my phone screen is a struggle. Organising? Does organising my stuffies by colour count?”

“Erm, not really.” Emily admitted. How pathetic, she thought, she didn’t even feel qualified for this basic entry-level job, “B-But I’m a quick learner!”

“That’s good.” Fred replied with a nod, “How about the future? We often promote from within. Do you see yourself having a career here? Moving up the ladder? Where would you say you see yourself in five years, for instance?”

“Mr. Walker, I feel like if you give me any sort of responsibility, I’ll get a nosebleed and cry… not necessarily in that order. In five years, I hope I might be potty trained.”

“I’m not sure.” Emily said. She knew quite quickly it wasn’t the answer Mr. Walker wanted but it was the truth. She wasn’t sure where she wanted to be in five minutes yet alone five years.

“Alright, if we were to hire you is there any special accommodations we would have to make?” Fred asked, “Anything you want to tell us about your personal circumstances that we could help you with?”

“No!” Emily answered very quickly and firmly. She could see the forcefulness of her answer had taken Fred back but it was an instinctive reaction to the question.

Emily didn’t want anyone to know about her diapers even if it would be impossible to keep secret if she started working there. She had no real control over her potty functions, sooner or later people would notice when she started to smell or when the diaper leaked. No doubt Mr. Walker had also noticed her drooling a little even if she tried to remember to wipe her mouth as often as possible, and her speech issues were blatant as well.

“Alright, we have a little typing proficiency test we’d like you to take.” Fred said, “But first I’ll give you a quick tour around the office. Come with me.”

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