You tell Madison you'll reverse her incontinence, for a price. She gets excited. After a few minutes you give her to dry her tears and calm down, you change her diaper with some dampened rags.
Freshly padded and deeply, deeply humiliated, you sit her down on the floor and tell her of the alternatives she can choose.
"Your first alternative is that you will become incapable of conducting personal hygiene. Someone else will have to bathe you, clothe you, comb your hair, clip your nails, even using toilet paper. Someone would have to accompany you to the toilet as well."
Madison sinks into the floor and softly pouts.
"That's the same as what I already have!"
"Except you wouldn't have to stand in your bodily fluids multiple times a day." You retort, moving on to the next option.
"Another alternative is to completely forget the last five years of your education."
"Huh??" She looks up at you distraught. "I wouldn't be able to read! I'd barely be able to count! I'd have to go back to preschool!"
"Either that, or a special school." You reply.
"I'd be behind forever!" She says.
"You don't have to pick that one." You move on to the next potential arrangement.
"Option 3: you will merely wet the bed every night, thus needing to wear pull-ups."
"...well that's a lot better..." she says.
"BUT, when you wake up and remove it, you will HAVE to dispose of the pull-up in a public place where someone can see it. Be it a store, your school, a dorm or wherever. You will uncontrollably walk out wearing the soiled pull-up with no pants, seeking a trash can until you can find one where someone will almost certainly be watching you. You will then remove the pull-up, drop it in the trash, and return to your bedroom or bathroom. Furthermore, you will be unable to keep your bedwetting a secret even in conversation. You will be unconditionally candid about it, and bring it up often. You will not ever be able to mention that you are under the influence of mind control; you'll have to come up for some other reason for your daily indecent exposure."
"Ughh! This is impossible!" She says.
"Well don't worry, I've got one more choice for you." You clear your throat.
"Ahem! The final option..."
Madison leans toward you in anticipation.
"...*Amber* will become incontinent, and you'll have to do half of the caretaking work along with me!"
"You want to make MY SISTER wear diapers??" Madison exclaimed. "That's... so..." Madison stands up and starts pacing the room; her diaper swaying back and forth in contemplation.
After 15 minutes of intense consideration--a time in which she wet her diaper a bit--she stands firmly before you, struts out her chest and says,
"I have made my decision!" She takes a breath, and declares...