Diaper Story: The Training Device

Table of Contents

Author’s Notes

Hey there, I really enjoyed writing this story and have great idea for the future of it. If you have any ideas, let me know below in the comments! Your feedback helps me grow as a storyteller.

Prologue

This ABDL POV Story is about a wife and a husband (you). You and your wife were having a discussion and somehow it came to her challenging you. The challenge? She bet that she could make you accidentally wet your pants. Her invention? The Training Device.

Chapter 1: I Have Control of My Bladder

I had always prided myself on my bladder control. I mean, who hasn’t had that childish competition with friends, seeing who could hold it the longest? But with Jenny, my wife, it was different. She had this competitive streak a mile wide, and an uncanny ability to turn any conversation into a challenge.

One evening, as we were lounging on the couch, the topic somehow drifted to bladder control. I, in a moment of bravado, declared I hadn’t wet myself since infancy. Jenny, her eyes twinkling with mischief, raised an eyebrow. “Oh really? I bet I could make you wet yourself by accident,” she challenged, a sly grin spreading across her face. “Give me two weeks.”

Now, my wife is a brilliant woman, a software engineer with a knack for inventing quirky gadgets. But making me lose control of my bladder? Surely, that was beyond even her capabilities. I chuckled, accepting her challenge with a confident smirk. “Two weeks, huh? You’re on, babe.”

The next day, the sounds of tinkering and the occasional curse word emanating from our home office alerted me to Jenny’s project. Boxes arrived on the doorstep, filled with wires, sensors, and other mysterious contraptions. I tried to pry, but she remained tight-lipped, her eyes gleaming with anticipation.

Chapter 2: The Training Device

Finally, after 2 days of covert operations, Jenny emerged from her lair, a triumphant glint in her eye. She laid out a bizarre-looking device on the coffee table, a tangle of wires and blinking lights. “Alright, darling,” she announced, her voice laced with playful malice, “are you ready for the challenge?”

Jenny’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she laid out the rules of our little experiment. “Rule number one,” she announced, ticking them off on her fingers, “you must wear a diaper at all times, except when showering or bathing.”

A chuckle escaped my lips. “Diapers, huh? You’re really going all out with this, aren’t you? I don’t know if I can go through with this.”

Her grin widened. “Rule number two: no pants allowed in the house unless we have guests. Makes for easier diaper checks, don’t you think?”

I raised an eyebrow, a mix of amusement and apprehension swirling within me. “Diaper checks? This is starting to sound a bit… intense.”

Unfazed, Jenny continued. “Rule number three: the device stays on at all times, save for showering and bathing. And coming near the end now, rule number four: I’ll be in charge of all your bathing and diaper changing needs.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Wow, you’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?” But as I met her gaze, I saw a glint of determination that gave me pause, she’s being serious.

“Just two more,” Jenny chirped. “Rule number five: absolutely no changing your own diaper. That’s my job, and mine alone.”

I grimaced, imagining the indignity of having my wife change my diaper like a baby. “Seriously?” I asked, hoping she was joking.

“Quite serious,” she affirmed, her smile unwavering. “And finally, rule number six, the last and most important rule: You are not allowed to use the toilet for anything other than pooping. Everything else goes in the diaper.”

My jaw dropped. This was beyond anything I had anticipated. “You can’t be serious,” I sputtered, my voice rising in disbelief. “This is… this is absurd!”

Jenny simply shrugged, her smile widening. “Absurd? Perhaps. But it’s also incredibly fun,” she said, tapping the side of her nose. “And remember, darling, you agreed to this. Two weeks, no backing out. Or else you’ll be wearing diapers for a month, no toilet.”

She left the threat hanging in the air, her eyes twinkling with amusement. I knew what she meant. A month of diapers. The thought was enough to send a shiver down my spine.

“Scared?” she teased, her voice laced with playful challenge.

I puffed out my chest, trying to recapture my earlier confidence. “Of course not,” I scoffed. “But you better explain how this contraption works.”

Jenny’s explanation was a chilling revelation. “You see, dear,” she said, her voice a blend of sweetness and scientific detachment, “this little device is a marvel of modern engineering.” She tapped it affectionately. “It’ll give you a gentle buzz of pleasure whenever you, well, wet yourself. Think of it as positive reinforcement.”

My smile faltered. “And if I don’t…?”

“Oh, it’ll give you a little… reminder,” she said, a wicked glint in her eye. “A tiny shock, nothing too unpleasant. Just enough to, shall we say, motivate you.”

She paused, then added with a sly grin, “And for a little extra incentive, it’s also connected to a chastity device. You know, to prevent any… distractions.”

My stomach dropped. This wasn’t just a game anymore. It was a full-on psychological experiment. I was the lab rat, and Jenny was the mad scientist.

“But don’t worry,” she chirped, patting my arm. “I’ll be a benevolent dictator. You’ll get rewards for good behaviour.”

I forced a laugh, the sound hollow in my ears. “Sounds like fun,” I said, trying to sound enthusiastic. But my heart pounded in my chest like a drum. I had underestimated my wife, severely. This wasn’t just about winning a silly bet anymore. It was about control, about pushing boundaries, about exploring the limits of my own willpower.

With a sigh of resignation, I reached for the diaper, but Jenny snatched it from my grasp. “Hold your horses, cowboy,” she giggled, her eyes sparkling with a hint of malice. “We need to get this part right.”

Before I could protest, she had me standing in the middle of the living room, my dignity rapidly diminishing. With practiced efficiency, she fastened the device around my manhood, a cold, electronic clamp on my masculinity. A shiver ran down my spine, not entirely from fear, but from a strange anticipation of the sensations this contraption promised.

“There,” she declared, stepping back to admire her handiwork. “Now for the finishing touch.”

She brandished a fluffy white diaper, its cartoon characters mocking me with their wide-eyed grins. With a deftness that surprised me, she slid it under me and gently patted my diaper area with baby powder, the cool dust settling like a soft cloud. The scent of talc filled the air, a strangely nostalgic reminder of childhood afternoons spent sprawled on the living room rug, building forts out of blankets and pillows. In that moment, the big diaper and the cold device seemed a little less daunting, replaced by a flicker of unexpected comfort. While in my daze, she carefully taped the diaper up, securing it snugly around my waist.

“All done!” Jenny exclaimed, beaming at me with pride. “How does it feel?”

I shifted uncomfortably, the diaper crinkling with my movement. “A bit… snug,” I mumbled, trying to hide my embarrassment.

Jenny chuckled, patting my cheek. “Don’t worry, darling,” she cooed. “You’ll get used to it. Now, go have fun! Or, you know, try not to have too much fun… and Good luck! May the best person win. I’ve left you a coffee in the kitchen.” Her voice trailed off, a mischievous glint in her eye.

I took a tentative step, the diaper rustling with each movement. This was it. The challenge had begun. A part of me was terrified, but another part, I had to admit, was strangely intrigued.

Chapter 3: Day 1 of The Training Device

The rest of the day stretched out before me, demanding attention. As a freelance web developer, my work was a constant companion, even in the most unusual circumstances. With a sigh, I shuffled to the kitchen, the familiar crinkle of my diaper echoing with each step. The bulk between my legs was undeniable, the gentle tug of the chastity cage a constant reminder of my predicament. I grabbed my coffee and headed to my office.

Coffee in hand, I settled down to tackle the client’s website. Lines of code danced across my screen, a welcome distraction from the discomfort. But fifty minutes in, a sharp jolt from the cage jolted me back to reality. The familiar pressure in my bladder – it was time.

I settled into my office chair, feeling the foreign sensation of the diaper between my legs. But the knowledge that I was expected to soil myself was a constant distraction. I shifted uncomfortably, the diaper crinkling with every movement, a reminder of my predicament.

“Just relax,” Jenny’s voice echoed in my head. “It’s just like going to the bathroom, but… warmer.”

I tried to heed her advice, willing myself to let go. But years of potty training and societal conditioning fought against the urge. I squeezed my thighs together, the muscles in my abdomen clenching with the effort. Nothing. Just a frustrating dryness and the growing pressure in my bladder.

A wave of panic washed over me. What if I couldn’t do it? What if my body refused to cooperate with this absurd experiment? I took a deep breath, reminding myself of the electric shock again that awaited me if I didn’t succeed. The fear of pain was a powerful motivator.

I closed my eyes, focusing on the sensation of fullness, the growing discomfort. I relaxed my muscles, picturing myself standing over a toilet, the familiar relief of release. And then, finally, a tiny trickle escaped, followed by a steady stream. The warmth spread through the diaper, a bizarre mix of comfort and shame.

Simultaneously, the vibrator buzzed to life, its rhythmic pulsations a strange counterpoint to my humiliation. I gritted my teeth, a battle raging within me. This was wrong, unnatural, yet a perverse sense of excitement began to stir. The vibrations were… not unpleasant. A bead of sweat trickled down my forehead as I surrendered to the sensation, my body betraying my mind and my mind betraying my body.

The cage pressed uncomfortably against my now swollen flesh as the vibrator made me erect, but the cage prevented it. When I was done peeing, I waited until my semi-erect caged cock died down, I then reluctantly sought out my wife, hoping for a reprieve.

I cautiously approached Jenny’s office, the telltale crinkle of my diaper echoing with each step. My cheeks burned with embarrassment as I knocked on the door.

“Jenny, honey?” I called out tentatively. “I, uh… think it’s time for a change.”

The door swung open, revealing my wife’s smug grin. “Oh, is that so?” she chirped, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “And what makes you think that?”

I shifted uncomfortably, the wetness between my legs growing increasingly uncomfortable. “Well, it’s, uh… a bit full,” I mumbled, avoiding her gaze.

Jenny’s smile faltered for a brief moment. She reached out, her hand touching the front of my diaper for a second, to gauge its fullness. Then, she retracted her hand with a dismissive wave. “Nonsense, darling,” she said, waving me away. “Your diaper can handle a few more loads. You’ll be fine for a few more hours. Now, shoo! I’m busy.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but the words caught in my throat. Defeated, I shuffled back to my desk, the warm, wet sensation a somewhat comfortable constant reminder of my humiliation. I tried to focus on the lines of code dancing across my screen, but the discomfort was too distracting. With a sigh, I reached for the coffee pot, pouring myself a second cup.

“Just a few more hours,” I muttered to myself, the bitter taste of the coffee a poor substitute for the relief I craved. I knew that the real test was just beginning.

Chapter 4: The First Diaper Change

The afternoon wore on, a symphony of diaper crinkling, keyboard clicking, and the occasional buzz from the Training Device. With each passing hour, the discomfort grew, the wetness between my legs a constant reminder of my predicament. As the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, the pressure in my bladder became unbearable.

I stumbled back to Jenny’s office, my legs wobbling with the effort of holding it in. I knocked hesitantly, my voice a hoarse whisper. “Jenny, please,” I begged. “I can’t take it anymore.”

The door creaked open, revealing my wife’s triumphant smirk. “Oh, so you’ve finally reached your limit, have you?” she purred, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

I could only nod, my cheeks burning with shame. Without another word, Jenny led me to the bedroom, where she had prepared a makeshift changing station on the bed. She instructed me to lie down, my heart pounding in my chest as I obeyed.

With practiced efficiency, Jenny unfastened the tabs of my diaper, the cool air hitting my warm, wet skin a welcome relief. The smell of urine filled the room, a pungent reminder of my degradation. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the humiliating scene.

Jenny’s gentle touch on my skin startled me. She was cleaning me with baby wipes, her movements surprisingly tender. I opened my eyes, watching as she carefully powdered my diaper area, her brow furrowed in concentration. The scent of talcum powder filled the air, a strangely comforting reminder of childhood.

“There you go, all clean,” Jenny cooed, her voice surprisingly soft. She then applied diaper cream and carefully slid a fresh diaper under me, fastening the tabs with a gentle tug. I felt a sense of relief wash over me as the wetness was replaced with the soft, dry embrace of the diaper.

“Feeling better now?” Jenny asked, her smile returning.

I nodded sheepishly, my cheeks still flushed with embarrassment. “Thank you,” I mumbled, my voice barely audible.

Jenny chuckled, patting my cheek. “Don’t mention it, darling,” she said, her voice dripping with honeyed malice. “Now, let’s get you back to work. You still have a few more hours left in the day.”

I reluctantly got up, the fresh diaper rustling with my movement. As I walked back to my office, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had just crossed a line. I had been reduced to a helpless infant, completely dependent on my wife for my most basic needs. And yet, a part of me couldn’t deny the strange comfort I found in her care. The experience was both humiliating and strangely intimate, a confusing mix of emotions that left me feeling both vulnerable and strangely aroused.

Chapter 5: End of Day 1 and A Reward

The final hours of work were a blur. The initial discomfort of the diaper had given way to a dull ache, the constant wetness a nagging reminder of my predicament. By the time Jenny called me for dinner, I was more than ready for a change.

“Dinner time, darling!” Jenny’s singsong voice echoed through the house. I begrudgingly left my office, a trail of diaper crinkles following me. My nose wrinkled at the pungent smell emanating from my diaper, a mixture of urine and the faint scent of baby powder.

Dinner was a surprisingly pleasant affair. Jenny had prepared my favorite meal, a hearty lasagna with a side of garlic bread. I ate with gusto, savoring each bite as if it were my last. The conversation flowed easily, the events of the day momentarily forgotten.

After dinner, Jenny cleared the table with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Alright, darling,” she announced, “it’s time for your bedtime routine.”

I followed her back to the bedroom, my heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and dread. The changing process was becoming less humiliating, but the vulnerability it exposed was still unnerving.

Jenny laid out a clean diaper and a fresh set of pajamas on the bed. “Strip,” she commanded, her voice firm but gentle.

I hesitated for a moment, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. But the urge to be clean outweighed my pride. I quickly shed my clothes, leaving me standing in nothing but my diaper and the Training Device.

Jenny’s eyes raked over my body, her gaze lingering on the bulge of my diaper. A smirk played on her lips as she reached for the tabs.

“Don’t worry, darling,” she purred. “I’ll take care of you.”

With practiced ease, she removed the soiled diaper, the cool air a welcome relief on my skin. She then carefully cleaned me with baby wipes, her touch surprisingly gentle. I closed my eyes, focusing on the soothing sensation of the wipes on my skin. The smell of baby powder filled the air, a comforting reminder of childhood.

Once I was clean, Jenny hesitated, her eyes fixed on the Training Device. “Ready for this to come off?” she asked, her voice a low murmur.

I nodded eagerly, a wave of relief washing over me. The thought of being free from the contraption’s constant presence was exhilarating.

With a few deft movements, Jenny removed the device, a triumphant smile on her face. I felt a surge of gratitude as I stretched my legs, savoring the newfound freedom. But the relief was short-lived. As the blood rushed back into my neglected member, a wave of pent-up tension coursed through me.

Jenny’s smile softened as she noticed my erection. “Don’t worry, darling,” she whispered, her fingers gently tracing the outline of my raging erection. “I’ll take care of that too.”

She led me to the bathroom, where she ran a warm bath. I sank into the water, the heat soothing my aching muscles. Jenny joined me, her fingers working their magic as she helped me relieve the built-up tension. The pleasure was intense, a release from the day’s stresses and anxieties.

Afterward, we lay together in the bath, the water cooling around us. Jenny rested her head on my chest, her fingers idly tracing patterns on my skin. “How are you feeling?” she asked, her voice soft and concerned.

“Exhausted,” I admitted. “But also… strangely comforted.”

Jenny chuckled. “I told you I’d take care of you,” she murmured, kissing the top of my head. “But the training device isn’t quite over yet. Here, let’s get you settled in for the night.” She quickly dried herself off and instructed me to dry myself off.

When we finished getting dried she then led me back to our room and got me on the changing table and the then placed the cool metal of the training device back on me, the familiar buzz went through the cage, a reminder of the rules. Finally, she carefully slid the diaper under me, the plastic crinkling softly as she spread it out. She fastened the tabs with a gentle tug, securing the diaper snugly around my waist. The familiar weight between my legs was a reminder of my dependence, but there was also a strange sense of comfort in being taken care of.

“There you go, all clean and comfortable,” Jenny cooed, tucking us both into bed.