De-Tox: Adhesive Therapy

by Kentavritsa

Rating: teen
Tags: Original Character, Science Fiction, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Alternate Universe, Human, Narcotics, Nurse Redheart, Other
Length: 4184

A girl is realizing she has an addiction. She decides to try a new De-Tox, as she had not had any success on the previous once she had been submitted to. This is her story, following her to the therapy and what her life directly afterwards.

A girl has realized, she has an addiction she can’t afford to maintain or indulge in.

While she had not had any success with the previous therapies, she had been subjected to; she is still open to try the next therapy: Adhesive De-Tox.

She finds the location and signs up for the therapy. (Not that she is having a choice, even if she does not have anyone forcing her to go.)

Once she had signed up, she is lead to the changing room, where she is undressing; before she is subjected to the prescribed therapy. (She soon finds herself sticking to what she had signed herself up to.)

How will it go? How will she fair, as she is going through the therapy? What will her life become, as she is released from the therapy? Will her life change, or will she return to who she was and the life she had had before signing up?

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Ps:

Published 2024-10-28 08:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2025-01-06 06:38:06 UTC

Prologue: 1

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Summary

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I had picked up an addiction, I am not proud of.

How or why I had gotten addicted to this substance; but I soon had realized it as a fact of life. One I could not deny.

It is not just embarrassing, to me; but a hindrance in my life, one I can not afford to indulge in. With that, I had chosen to accept a De-Tox treatment.

While I have tried a few of these in the past, all with mixed and varied results. With that, I had opted for a new treatment, I had just stumbled upon.

“Ad-hesive Therapy” the title reads.

“Does this insinuate, they will be applying glue to me?” I ponder; “Or, am I supposed to inhale it?” I continue questioning.

Either way, I had managed to get to the location, where they will be performing this therapy as prescribed. I will be exposed, to what is referred to as a multi-componental adhesive; rather than bluntly gluing me to the surface of choice.

<--- --- --->

Once I had reached the address the site had referred to; I find a seemingly ordinary Villa, in a very ordinary villa complex.

After I had double and triple confirmed, that I had reached the correct address; I walk up to the door; knocking, expecting someone to open the door. She does come, indeed.

A Girl in her early twenties, wearing a pristine silicone white Nurse uniform is greeting me in the door. She eagerly grant me entrance, taking a step to the side; whereupon I step in into the cloaking room, whereupon she close the door behind me.

“Greetings, Miss; you are here, for the Adhesive Therapy De-tox?” she inquires.

“Yes, Nurse!” I confirm.

“Right this way, please!” she urges, as she is leading me further into the building.

I follow her into a small room, decorated as an office. She sits down behind the desk, indicating for me to take the seat on the other side of the desk. I eagerly follow her direction, sitting down in the comfortable seat.

“I will need a signature, from you..” she explains; “then I wil need you to press down the palm of your right hand onto the plaque on the desk before you, and spread your fingers wide, please!” she concludes.

Naturally; the form I am to sign is already lying on the desk-top, waiting for my signature.

“Please, read the description of the therapy; before we continue, Miss!” she explains, indicating the printed text on the first page of the form.

I take the time, reading the detailed description; finding no real issues, even if I had been a bit worried about how they were to glue me into place.

After I had read the text, carefully; I pick up the pen and sign the contract, whereupon I place the palm of my right hand onto the plaque as instructed.

The glossy, black, rubbery surface gives me a warm and inviting sensation in the process, surprising me a bit..

“Oh…” I exclaim.

“Since you have signed the contract, confirming that you understand and agree to take part in this therapy; it is time for me to lead you to the therapy room!” she explains.

I eagerly follow her. I just have to walk several flights of stairs down; before she is presenting the room to me..

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Adhesive Therapy

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Adhesive Therapy: 2

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Prologue

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“You will have to disrobe, in this room!” she explains.

“Oh, okay!” I respond, as I am stepping into the room she had indicated.

“I will be back for you, when you have disrobed!” she explains.

“Thank you, Nurse!” I respond, as I am stepping into the fairly small room, closing the door behind myself.

“Click!!” is heard, as the lock automatically activates; as I am closing the door.

“I am alone, and no Peeping Tom will be bothering me!” I ponder, giggling to myself. (Of course; this is a facility for females, exclusively.)

I open the door to the wardrobe supplied to me; where I can store my clothes, during the therapy treatment. (I will not need them, until I have endured the treatment; so leaving my clothes here, is the safest and most convenient option.)

I unbutton my blouse, before I hang it on the first hanger on the right. Now I am slipping the skirt down, before I am picking it up; leaving it on the second hanger.

I slip my panties off of me, leaving them on the third hanger; before I pull the top up over my head, hanging it over the panties.

Now I slip my socks off of my feet, leaving them on the shelf on the left.

I collect my hair, slipping the red swim-cap over my head. With the hair safely stored under the female swim-cap; I am ready to proceed, after all. I guess the distinct metallic bloody red is rather quite eye-catching, in my eyes. (Finally!!)

I enjoy the oil, the swim-cap’s inside had been coated with; as it makes it so much easier to slip the cap on, while I am imagining it protecting my hair in the process.

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She had applied the clear gel lubrication over my body, from the neck down; before she is leading me to the room, prepared for me. (Incidentally; it is the door on the opposite side of the hall.) I soon notice, how the floor is glossy, glistering in the light from over-head.

“The lubrication is surprisingly slippery; yet I can still maintain my balance, as I am walking towards the therapy-room!” I realize.

“It would be most inconvenient, if you could not walk into the room by yourself?” she suggests.

“Yes..” I agree.

The room I am about to walk into is three foot by nine foot. Should be just wide enough for a girl to lay comfortable, without any chance to hit the head on the inner wall, I realize

“Please, note the hand-rails along the entire right and left wall in the room!” she urges me; “these are to help you reach the indicated position; so you can press the souls of your feet on the wall, on the right and left of the door!” she is informing me.

“Thank you, Nurse!” I respond, somewhat more eagerly than seemingly necessary.

“One small detail, before you go in..” she puts forth; “I will need to apply the lip-gloss, and insert your oral tube; before you can step in!” she points out.

She is applying the lip-gloss to my lips; while I am facing her, only to slip in the golden silicone oral tube. It feels weird, with the tube in my mouth, I can’t close my lips or open my mouth in the least.

“I’ll just confirm that the tube is correctly inserted, before you step into the room!” she explains; whereupon she is pinching my lips closed.

“Okay; you are clear to step in, Miss!” she explains, as she is letting go of my lips.

I walk into the room, focusing on each and every step; in order not to slip and fall.

Once I had reached the middle of the room, I slowly and carefully go down on all fours; before I turn around and lay down on my back.

Once I am lying on the floor, I slowly guide myself towards the door; spreads my legs open, pressing the souls of my feet onto the corners of the room on the right and left of the door.

I let go of the hand-rails, while relaxing as best I can; pressing the palms of my hands flat against the floor, my fingers purposefully spread wide apart.

While the nurse is looking at me, I am still; maintaining my position, just as she had instructed me to do.

“Okay!” the nurse puts forth; “If you are comfortable; I can leave you, were you are!” she explains.

Since I do not protest, she is flipping the switch; indicating that I am firmly stuck, in the position I am in. I will be perfectly incapable of moving. Granted; I can still open and close my eyes, but that is as much as I can move now.

I close my eyes and relax, waiting for the inevitable. Soon enough; I know it will come, and this will not be either fun or comfortable. It is just a matter of time.

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When I finally try to move; I find out, that my muscles are perfectly relaxed. I can’t move a muscle, now. (The lubrication is not covering the skin of my face, which is why I can still blink; but she had inserted the tube into my mouth, in order to make utterly certain, I can not make any noise while in here.)

I am trapped, I can’t get out.

“I truly am committed to this..” I realize, as the first wave of discomfort is starting to flow over me.

“This, will take a while..” I realize; as I am closing my eyes, in order to block out the light in the room.

After a few hours, of mounting discomfort; I finally fall asleep, exhausted.

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When I finally do wake up, everything is much worse; but something is strangely off. I don’t see the ceiling, but the floor; I am hanging upside down, looking down at the floor.

Since the tube is covering the inside of my mouth and several inches down my throat; I will be spared the pain associated by throwing up, in case it may happen. (Why take the chance; if you can bypass it, before you suffer the consequences?)

What I had not noticed, as I had been asleep; is how they had coated the skin of my body from the neck down, with a second coating of gel.

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I am trying to open my mouth, but to no avail. I want to scream, but I can’t. (The tube refuses to let me. {Why? I have no idea.})

As the seconds are ticking by, the substance is being broken down. (Metabolized) With every moment, the saturation slowly dissipates; until there is nothing left of it. (This is what I had wanted, when I had submitted myself to this therapy; even if my body refuses to accept it, yearning for the ease of the symptoms incurred by the diminished saturation of the substance.)

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During the Night

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During the Night: 3

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Adhesive Therapy

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It is strange, to find myself perfectly relaxed; even when I feel this bad, while the substance is trying to pull me back into the quagmire of its addiction.

Since my belly is empty, there is nothing more to void. (Maybe, just maybe; this is for the best, as I am saved the pains of this process.)

While I may worry, about dehydration and starvation; had I been present enough to worry, in my current state.

Time is passing, and I once more fall asleep; saving me from the pain, I had been submitted to the entire day. (Since I am fast asleep, unconscious during the night!)

Once I had fallen asleep, a time is ticking. Once the timer had ended; a tube is inserted into my mouth. (I am not aware of it, I don’t feel it slipping In; since the oral tube is already in my mouth, and I am asleep.)

As the tube had been inserted, the liquid Re-Hydration fluid flows into my belly through the temporarily inserted tube.

The room is cool, during the night-cycle, triggering me to sleep for several hours. I wake up, shortly after the tube had been pulled out. (Apparently, these fluids aid me in controlling my Day-cycle.)

During my night, the room is dark and cold; during my day, it is warm and light. (Where the light is coming from, I have no idea; but I am not in a state, where I am caring in any case.)

However, I will be quite grateful, for the care they are extending to me; ascertaining, that I am hydrated and sustained throughout this process.

An hour after the tube had been inserted, another tube is inserted into my vagina; extracting the fluids I produce, in the process of cleansing my blood of the byproducts of living. (It isn’t, as if I could go to the Girl’s room and relieve myself right now.)

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How long have I been here, I have no idea; as if I had been caring about the time, in the state I am in right now. The symptoms are gradually worsening, until it is reaching the peak of my problem; it stays bad, for a good long while longer, before my situation slowly starts to improve.

Hanging upside down; relieves me of all the issues of throwing up, on myself. Had I thrown up, at all; I have no idea, right now. The room is clean, with a fresh scent to it; even if it isn’t something I had been caring about, right now. I am after all still in the throes of the consequences of my addiction.

However; I am still in pain, nauseous. (What had I been expecting?) This is after all a De-Tox therapy, I had signed up for. (Even if it is unorthodox.)

How long, this will take; I have no idea, but I am not in a state where I could have cared. (Consequences!!)

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This feels strangely comfortable, hanging upside down. (Weird, isn’t it?)

Well, at least I had been spared the pain of what is sure to come up on my skin. (Not to mention, the taste and how my mouth would feel(, for who knows how long?).

If only I had known, realized just what I had subjected myself to, in the process. (Yet, my skin will remain unsoiled!)

I am oddly relaxed, even through the worst of it all. (No cramps; since my muscles are forcibly relaxed, through the entire process.)

All I am aware of, is the time I am hanging upside down, as if the ceiling had been under me; but otherwise it feels as if it had been normal.

The nausea is still there, growing worse by the hour. (I am in pain.. of course!)

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As bad as it had been, it is finally peaking. (While I am still feeling too bad, plagued by the nausea; to appreciate it right now, but it is slowly growing better and better.)

Still, I do not feel the taste of what I fear must have past my lips, while I was at my worst. (You know, what I am talking about; if you have been there, trying to rid yourself of the poison you have consumed!!)

Strangely enough, my lips are still spared. (Had I been present enough, I would have known how and why.)

Wait, does it taste anything? (Yes, I still have that strangely rubbery taste in my mouth.)

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As I am waking up, my head has cleared. (Enough to know I am through the worst of it, at least.)

Somehow, I have grown a fondness for this strangely rubbery taste in my mouth. (Who knew!)

While my lips are dry, And my mouth parsed; I am still starting to feel fine. (At least; I think, I am starting to feel fine.) Why did I not go here, sooner? (Oh, right; I did not have the Address, or even know I had wanted to go!)

As the nausea has diminished, I just lie where I lie; as I can do little to nothing else, glued to the ceiling as I am.

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Why, oh why; does it feel so good, to lie motionless? (Glued to the ceiling.)

Why, oh why; does it taste so good, with the rubbery tube still stuck in my mouth?

Of course, I could not pull it out; with my hands glued to the surface, beside my body.

I am relaxed, relaxing. (The room is dim, as the light had been dimmed down!)

I once more fall asleep; dreaming I could remain in this room, in this state. (Well, why couldn’t I?)

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I wake up. I am waking up. (The light, still dim.)

I am still lying on the floor, where I had been lying since I signed in. (Even if I had been in the ceiling, most of the time.)

“Why does it feel so strange?” I ponder, as I slowly realize; I am on the floor, rather than in the ceiling.

With the tube still in my mouth, I can’t speak or even make a single noise. (Aside from the squeaking; caused by my lips trying to move, in order to form the sounds of the words.)

I hear the quiet squeaking noises; as I try to speak, to call out. (None is hearing me, as they do not hear me.)

I lie still, limp on the floor. (I don’t even try to move, as I had learned to relax, and to be perfectly relaxed!)

There is a strangely comforting tingling sensation; covering my back, upon which I lay. (Lay/Lie)

I hear a noise, as the speakers come to life. (What, I had speakers in the room; I did not know, did she tell me before?)

“Good morning!” I hear the voice; “It should be about time, for you to move out of your bed?” she inquires.

“Good morning..” I respond; “oh, okay!” I respond, without a thought; “I guess: it is!” I conclude.

A moment later, I find myself sitting up; as if it had been the easiest thing in the world, the most obvious. (Well, maybe it had been?) Just that my body had learned to be glued in place. I had been relaxed, enjoying it for all it had been worth. Now, that is no more. I wish I could go back, to the bliss the glue had granted me. What if I could go back? (I could ask her, couldn’t I?)

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Going Home

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Going Home: 4

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During the Night

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I had signed myself out. (After I had passed the test, proving that I had none of the substance connected to the addiction!)

Once I had signed myself out, I had gone home; quite proud of myself, after the accomplishment. (Considering, just how many therapy treatments I had failed.)

I feel surprisingly good, as I am stepping into my home. (I should, after I had let go of my addiction.. shouldn’t I?) It just feels strange, not to be glued to the floor. (Why am I missing the sense of being glued to the floor, in the first place?)

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I had just gotten home, stepping into my own home; after the harrowing experience of kicking the addiction, even if the experience of the therapy is leaving me with excitement. (An unexpected and unexplained sense of excitement, I simply can not explain {away}; when it should have left me, with a sense of unease and discomfort.)

Still, I am relieved as I am stepping into my home; rediscovering the life I had been so close to giving up, under the influence of the addiction. (I am just experiencing a new sensation, something I just can not quite put a finger on; while it is distracting, disturbing.)

I push the sense of unease and growing discomfort aside, permitting the excitement of finally coming up hide it. (Well, why not?)

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I wear nothing, but my own clothes. (Just the clothes, I had worn; when I had signed in, at the clinic. {What else could I possibly be wearing?})

I slowly walk through my home, rediscovering everything I had left behind; finally stepping into my bedroom, only to open the door to my wardrobe. (intent of leaving the clothes behind, destroying the link to what had brought me there.)

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I had disrobed, stripped down to my bare skin; exploring the clothes I have before me, the options I have to wear. (Nothing fancy, but I could never rationalize even buying these in the first place; on the account, of having no real use to wear these in the first place.)

“Should I buy something new, fancier to wear?” I ponder, as I am scanning the content of my wardrobe. (I still have to let go of all the clothes I have, even if I do have some clothes untainted by what had brought me down.)

I pick up a pair of pristine white cotton-panties, stepping into them right and left; pulling them all the way up, once I had slipped both my feet in into them.

With the panties on, I am extracting a matching brassier; pulling it down over my head, slipping it into place. These clothes still makes me feel dirty, even if I knew I had never worn them back then; despite everything, even if they at least make me feel as if I had come home. (I am no longer nude, presentable; at least, in the eyes of everyone else.)

Now I am picking up the mate, black cotton skirt, distinctly contrasting with the panties and brassier I am wearing under them; stepping into it, before I am pulling it all the way up. (Only affording it a few tentative tugs: once, twice and thrice.)

Finally; I am selecting a matching medium grey dress blouse, slipping my right hand through the sleeve. (Only to repeat the process, of slipping my left hand in through the other sleeve.) With both my arms in; I pull the blouse tight to my chest, before I am buttoning it all the way up. (From the first button, and all the way up to the {very} last one under my chin.)

Once I am fully dressed up, I feel a bit better. (These are fresh, unused clothes; leaving me feel, as if I had been dressed up to go out.)

“I have a few errands to run..” I ponder; “before I can reclaim my life!” I continue.

“I need new clothes, an entirely new wardrobe..” I mouth, under my breath; “aside from a few other select items and effects!” I conclude.

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After I had enjoyed a full meal, I step into my personal office; logging in on my computer, activating my old favourite browser. (I will have to delete my list of favourites, in order to sever the links to anything that can trip me; snaring me, pulling me back into the life I had back when I first caught the addiction.)

“I may have to delete my browser, as much as I may have enjoyed it; but it is tainted, offering me to take back what I have to give up in order to regain my freedom!” I declare. (I just have to install another browser, before I delete it.)

I end up, on a site selling latex garments; including swim-caps I can cover my hair with, on a whim. I choose one black, one red and finally a skin-tone swim-cap. (At least, the site claims it will be skin-tone; thus making it perfectly invisible, when I put it on. {for some reason, I find this exciting beyond words.} How and why? I have no idea, at the time.)

I end up selecting panties and tops in: Black, Red, Blue, white, Skin-tone, Mannequin and finally, Crystal Clear. (Why?) Furthermore; I select a bathing suit in black, white, red and skin-tone. (But, of course I had to; when I find the appearance exceedingly exciting, just to look at.)

I select a black (glossy), skin-tone (medium) and a metallic bloody red (Highly glossy and with a distinct glittery effect to it.).

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I had left the site, where I had purchased the first inspired wardrobe. (I had even left a bookmark and joined the site.)

I find another site, from which I can buy the next (casual wardrobe).

I select silken panties in: white, black and a bright cerise. Adding to this, I choose a matching set of brassieres and tops in the same, matching colours. (Just to spice up my life, for when I choose to step out onto the fancier side of life.)

The rest of my clothes will be casual cotton wear. (Why not? I feel most comfortable wearing casual cotton wears, after all!)

Panties, tops, brassieres, skirts, blouses and so on. (Just the usual wears, for a woman to feel at home and comfortable wearing.) With this, I can dump the rest of my clothes in a plastic back; only to dump the bag in the trash, once the delivery has arrived. (This will cost me, of course; but what is the price of freedom, from everything I had worked so hard to escape?)

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A Re-Lapse, (of Sorts)

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