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You thought you could talk down to me, didn't you? That dismissive tone, the way you acted like my interests were beneath you. It grated on me every single day. So I decided to fix the problem. I am a master of brainwashing, after all. Over the last few months, I've been subtly rewiring your mind, planting suggestions deep in your subconscious. My goal was always clear: to make you lose control. And it worked perfectly. Now, every night during REM sleep, your bladder just lets go. You wake up in a cold, wet bed, confused and ashamed. Look at you now, a grown woman who can't even make it through the night without wetting herself. All that condescension is gone, replaced by helplessness. This is exactly what you deserve for looking down on me Of course, when you first came to me, sobbing and embarrassed about the wet sheets, I put on my best concerned face. I wrapped an arm around you and told you it was okay, that we'd figure it out together. Then I looked you right in the eye and asked, with feigned innocence laced with just a hint of suggestion, "So... does this mean you're going to have to start wearing diapers to bed?" I could see the horror dawn on your face. The thought of it, a grown woman like you, reduced to needing diapers. You stammered and denied it at first, but the seed was planted. And every morning after that, when you woke up damp and humiliated, my question echoed in your head until it didn't seem like a question anymore. It started to feel like the only solution. My solution.