The Trainer – Chapter Eleven
Monday morning dawned with my wife standing over me. It was clear I was in a puddle. I was barely surprised. “That’s second and last strike, you know. If you do it again, you lose the bet.” She smiled.
I yawned and stretched. “That’s OK, things are going better today, and I’ll be able to get to the bathroom as I need to. Tonight I’ll just pull an all nighter.” Getting up, I bundled the wet sheets and pajamas into a ball and brought it to the washer, starting the load. A quick shower and breakfast, and I was soon engrossed in work. Every 15 minutes, though, the alarm on my phone rang, and I would dutifully trek to the bathroom, shake off the uneasy feeling, and drain whatever I had. Lunch came and went, and soon it was dinner time. The interrupts kept my day from being very productive, but it was the only way I could possibly make it.
“Good heavens, are you still trying to win?” My wife was in the door, doing her best Count Rugan impression from the Princess Bride. I had to laugh. “Want to go out for dinner? Pub?” It did sound good. It was not a good idea, though.
“I don’t think I should. If I drink, I’ll lose, and if I don’t drink, Frank will annoy the hell out of me.”
She laughed. Frank was the bartender, and as his regulars he felt the need to engage us in conversation. A standing joke was to tell Frank that he needed to shut up or bring us a beer. He’d usually bring us the beer and continue with whatever story he was telling.
“We’ll grab a booth.”
“No, I shouldn’t go”
“I’ll go then. You can have leftovers.”
“Well, that’s not fair.”
“Come with me then. I really need a glass of wine, and we’re out of white.”
“I don’t want another accident in public!”
She switch to Black Knight from the The Holy Grail. “What are you going to do, pee on me?”
My response was immediate. “I’m invincible!”
“You’re looney.” She paused. “What if…” She paused again. “What if I let you wear a diaper, but it wouldn’t count against the bet. Well, the diaper wouldn’t but if you wet it it would. That way you can come with me, you can just have water or whatever, and if you do have an accident no one will know. Except me, of course.”
That sounded like a horrible idea, really, but her mind was obviously made up about the pub. At least this way I wouldn’t risk a public accident. I sighed. She took it as acceptance and disappeared briefly, returning with a thin disposable that she handed to me.
“Remember, if you wet it, you lose the bet. And you know I’ll check.”
I put the diaper on, a onesie to cover it, and we headed to the pub. I only had water, and continued the 15 minute periodic pilgrimage to the to bathroom. Frank only bugged us slightly, especially after I told him that I wasn’t drinking because I had a bad case of whooping west nile virus, cough cough, and alcohol enhanced the transmission rates to ugly bartenders. He laughed, but took the hint and mostly left us alone.
I have to say I was somewhat surprised when I managed to make it back home with the stripes still a happy yellow. My wife was in a frisky mood, and I was happy oblige. We started downstairs, but moved upstairs after a while, ending up on the bed in each others arms, both spent, her several times.
It was as I was laying there that I felt my wife reach down and pat the mattress, then get up suddenly. “You wet.”
“No I didn’t. That’s the wet spot.”
“Urm. No. That’s a big pee spot. And you’re dehydrated.” I looked. It was a big spot. A big, clearly dehydrated-pee-yellow spot. That smelled like dehydrated pee. Clearly centered between my legs. “That’s two beds you’ve wet today. And a couch.” She smiled. “You know what that means…”
I was stunned. It seemed so anti-climactic, especially after working so hard the last two days to not have a problem. And here I was, laying in my own pee. Again. I was still in my own thoughts as I realized with a sinking feeling that my wife was slipping something around my neck, and before I could react I realized the collar was locked with the tether attached. By the time I tried to sit up, it was too late.
“Honey, one more chance. I’m sorry, it was just the sex, and the climax, I mean, you were so wonderful, and I just forgot. Please, give me one more chance.” I tried to sit up again, but the tether kept me on my back.
“You lost. Say it with me. Yoooooou Looooooost.” She was definitely gloating, almost doing a little dance. “And here I was almost thinking that giving you that extra strike might have been a bad idea!”
“But I’ve been so good, and got so close. C’mon, honey please.” I was whining, and I knew it.
She stopped and looked at me, suddenly serious. “How about double or nothing?”
I didn’t even hesitate. “Sure. Whatever, please just give me one more chance.”
“Are you sure? You don’t even know the terms yet. Are you sure you want to do this?”
I paused. She was right. “What are the terms?”
She held up the cuffs and chain. “Lets get these on first. I don’t want to have to fight you later.”
“Do I have to?”
“Yes.”
OK, then. If it meant I got another chance, so be it. She made me put the cuffs on myself, their little LEDs indicating that they were not coming off without the right signal. She attached the chain even shorter than usual, giving me just inches of movement.
“So, here are the terms. You have until noon tomorrow. Since I don’t think that you’ll be able to make it, you’ll be wearing a diaper until then. If you wet that diaper, even a little, you lose. If you do lose, the trainer goes on until I decide to remove it. I will continue to have full responsibility for your diaper changing, and will be taking more direct control over when you can remove your diapers. You may lose certain other privileges depending on how cooperative you are. Lastly, and most importantly, you’ll become the first subject in Phase II. Do you accept these terms?”
“Obvious question… what’s Phase II.”
“Well, you’re doing very well I think, and I’ve actually gotten into this whole behavior modification thing. It’s amazing what kinds of changes in a persons behavior we can cause just with some subtle carrots and sticks that are consistent and automated. It’s a really interesting experiment.”
Again, she’s such an engineer. And I’m obviously the test monkey. Guinea pig. Lab rat.
She continued, “Officially, the project I’m working on now at work is titled ‘Behavior Modification Through Automated Immediate Stimulus’, which sounds very academic but so far has been sold as looking for better ways to address bedwetting. The stopping of it, normally, but obviously your case is a little different. Phase II is a little more advanced… I will try to address some other behaviors of yours. No, I won’t tell you what.” She smiled sweetly.
“How long will it last?”
“Until the study is over. When I decide it’s over. I don’t know.”
“And if I decline?”
“Well, you’ve already lost, so as we agreed when we set up the bet you get another little while on the current program, and we’ll do our best to make your diapers a permanent addition to your wardrobe.”
“And if I’m able to make it? What’s your double? A month in diapers for you?”
“At this point, you’ve already lost that bet. The upside for you is only that you might not have to wear diapers for the rest of your life. If you make it, I’ll let you out, and maybe even help you by using you in the ‘official’ program to make sure you’re actually dry.”
She held all the cards, I realized. The best I could do, I thought, was to try to make it to noon tomorrow. The only way out was if I was actually able to make it. Even if it meant I had to stay up all night.
“If I take the bet, will you remove the trainer?”
“OK. But the moment you lose it goes back on.”
“Can I use the bathroom right now?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll take the bet.” She released the tether and the chain between the collar and cuffs, but of course the collar and cuffs stayed on. I got up, and since I was already naked I made it to the toilet, sat down, and peed. I returned to find my wife in the other room, laying out a diaper. I paused.
She looked at me. “I don’t want have to wash the sheets again. If you want another chance, these are the terms.” She pointed at the waiting diaper. I went over and lay down. As she pulled up the thick cloth between my legs and pinned it, I realized that if I did lose, I was giving up the last night without a diaper for what would likely be a long time.
After making sure I had on the plastic pants, she retired to her room. I threw a onesie on to hold everything together. Determined to stay up all night, if necessary, I went to my office to work. Every 15 minutes when my phone alarm rang I trekked to the bathroom, unsnapped the onesie, unpinned the pins on one side, peed what I could, and put everything back together.
It must have been 4 in the morning when I woke with a start, nearly falling out of my chair. I panicked. Yep, I was wet. Crap. But my wife was asleep! If I simply changed out the diapers before she got up, she’d never know. I wasn’t wearing the trainer, so there was no electronic record of my failings! I just had to make it until noon. The pile of clean diapers was in my room, and I quickly grabbed dry ones, unpinned the wet diapers and re-pinned on the replacements. Now, what to do with the wet ones? It was too loud to run a load of wash right now. I’d have to hide them and wash them later. I got a plastic trash bag, and hid them in my office.
I risked a cup of coffee; the risk of falling asleep and peeing again was worse than the risk of the caffeine causing other problems. Soon it was 7 AM, and I heard my wife’s alarm, followed shortly after by the sound of the shower. I started a cup of coffee for her. A few minutes later, she emerged, only a little bleary eyed.
“Good morning honey.” The cup of coffee brought a smile to her face.
“You look like you stayed up all night. Everything OK?” She looked meaningfully at my diaper.
“So far.” She shrugged, and went into her office and closed the door. I figured it was that kind of morning.
She stayed there all morning. I heard her on the phone for substantial parts of the morning, and it sounded like she was dealing with a pressing work issue. For my part, I continued using the toilet every 15 minutes, even though the lack of sleep was definitely catching up. At 11:30, though, I figured I had a chance to make it. I had even taken a chance and slipped a load of laundry with the diapers I had wet mixed in with a bunch of clothes. I had managed to get the load washed, dried, folded, and even put away before she emerged from her office at 11:50. She looked harried and annoyed.
“Come into the bedroom”, she said quickly, in a way that indicated she was in a hurry and still thinking about something else. I followed behind her. “On the bed, let’s check and see if you’re still dry.”
I lay down. This was the moment. I was still dry. She would check, and I would win. I watched her hand go down between my legs and unsnap the onesie. She pulled it up. She started to pull open the top of the plastic pants, when I realized that her other end had just clicked the tether to my collar. Dammit, she was getting good at that. She stepped back, the plastic pants snapping back against my waist. I tried to sit up, but once again I was held on my back, unable to move, by the tether to my neck.
She looked at me, clearly disappointed. “I didn’t think you’d make it, but I expected you to try harder than this.”
I acted innocent, of course. “What do you mean? It’s still dry!”
“Why are you wearing a different diaper than what I put you in last night?”
I paused. How to answer this. I didn’t have a good excuse. How did she know?
She snickered, reading my mind. “You look like a toddler, there. Laying in a diaper. Trying to think up an excuse. There is only one diaper with a green serge at the top. All the others are blue or pink. You were wearing the green one last night. Now the diaper you’re wearing so proudly has a blue serge thread. Why.”
I just looked at her. Why indeed. Busted….
“You could have just taken that one off when I went to bed and saved it, you could have put a disposable liner in it… I can think of a bunch of ways you could have tried to cheat. Not that you would have gotten away with it, but I’m rather unimpressed with your lack of ingenuity. Oh well, come clean. You had an accident, right?”
Sigh. “Yes.”
“OK, then as we discussed yesterday, you lose the bet, as you know.” She left for a few moments, and then came back. She applied the chain to hold my hands at the collar, and proceeded to remove the plastic pants and unpin the diaper. The familiar trainer was quickly applied. I didn’t fight it. All I could do was watch in resignation.
“What’s that?” I asked, as she was putting a thin paper thing on top of the diapers. She slid it under me after asking me to lift up.
“Since you lied about when you changed your diapers, I’m going to be determining when and where you get changed. This is to make cleanups easier.”
I was still confused. I looked at her.
“You’re not going to be able to choose when to use the toilet for a while. You will be using your diapers for everything. This is to make cleaning your poop easier.”
I was horrified. “Honey, I don’t like using my diapers for pooping! I’ve never done that! That’s disgusting!”
She laughed. “Well, I’m glad that you accept that you like using your diapers for peeing. But you lied about changing your diapers, and the consequences are that you lose that privilege. The pooping in them is just a side effect. I’m sure it will be unpleasant for both of us.” For some reason I rather doubted that it would be as unpleasant for her as it was for me.
She was pulling up the plastic pants, and I realized that the material was much thicker. The waist had a belt, and I was unsurprised as a little LED blinked green as it was closed. I looked at the on the clock on the bedside table. It was 12 noon. A strong shock signalled that it was time to pee. I did.
The End of The Trainer – Chapter Eleven.
If you want to read more stories about ABDL boys you can find a list here: Diaper Boys – Index