A Bedwetter Gets the Chastity He Deserves At last, after many months of frustration, I have finally found a lasting solution to the vexing problem I had with my sissy husband, Bob. That solution was the Holy Trainer in the Nano size. I can now proudly say that I finally have him exactly where I want him and he is now erection- and orgasm-free. Allow me to provide a little background. You see, Bob is a chronic bedwetter. I decided early on, that the best way to handle it was to keep him in diapers and plastic panties at night. I would pin him into his pampers every night, and then change him out of the sopping wet ones the next morning. However, since that seemed to have little to deter his wetting, I eventually decided to punish him by making him wear them during the day as well. It's true that this was terribly embarrassing for him, as he often had to waddle around in front of my friends, many of which like to tease him about his emasculating, toddler attire. He is required to stand there submissively, and endure their humiliating comments as they squeeze his fat, diapered bottom and check to see if he's wet. This is made all the worse by the cute, babyish plastic panties I have him wear--all in soft, prissy pastels and colorful nursery prints. Bob's transformation from proud husband and man of the house, to a sissy baby in diapers didn't happen overnight, but rather gradually, over the course of about a year. During that time, I moved him out of our bedroom and into the spare room so I wouldn't have to smell his pee-soaked diapers all the time. I had his new room converted bit by bit into a baby's nursery, complete with an adult-sized crib, playpen, rocking horse, and changing table--basically, everything a toddler still wetting his diapers would need. Bob soon acquired a vast wardrobe of plastic and rubber panties, diapers, and many sissy dresses and outfits. I guess you could say that in taking control over a big, incontinent toddler, I had to say goodbye to my husband. All this seemed quite natural to me, as Bob has always been something of a passive, mild-mannered sissy. By contrast, I've always had a dominant personality and right from day one, I forced him to defer to my rules and decisions. In retrospect, I suppose it was inevitable that he would find himself in diapers and plastic panties and ruled over by his wife. Ever since our first days together, I found sex with Bob to be a terrible disappointment. Unfortunately, I had 'saved myself for marriage', so it wasn't until it was too late that I discovered his pathetic "skills" in bed, to say nothing of his tiny little penis. Sadly, even when fully erect, Bob's "manhood" does not measure beyond two inches. To be honest, when I first saw it--I just laughed and laughed--I'd never seen anything like it since my babysitting days with children. The first few times we tried to have sex, he got so excited, he came almost immediately, leaving me high and dry. In my anger and frustration, I rewarded him with a trip over my knee and good dose of my hairbrush, firmly applied to his bare, sissy bottom. It was clear Bob was never going to live up to my standards as a lover so I decided then and there to find a real man that could satisfy my needs. He didn't like it, but just as in everything else in our relationship--he had absolutely no say in the matter. I was going to have a lover and he was just going to have to deal with it. On those nights that I had a date, I'd take more time with my hair and makeup and choose my sexiest outfit. Bob would fidget and whine, especially when he saw how low cut my tops were and the generous cleavage I was showing between my big breasts. "That's not for you, sissy," I'd tell him, wagging my perfectly manicured finger at him in denial. Then I'd take Bob to his nursery, change his diapers, give him a bottle of warm milk, and tuck him into his crib for an early bedtime. That done, I'd go out for a wonderful night of sex and multiple orgasms with the man of my dreams--whoever he happened to be that month. This went on for a while with no issues but then a problem cropped up I hadn't considered. First, I noticed Bob would always get an erection whenever I changed his diapers. It struck me as both laughable and ludicrous--his tiny, two inch pee-pee standing straight up like a crayon as I powdered and pinned him into his soft, fluffy diapers. This was all the more galling, since I had decided on diapers as a solution for his bedwetting--not for his sexual arousal. Clearly--the little sissy was enjoying his humiliating pampers despite the fact I had cut him off from sex with me. Further, I knew he was using his cozy diapers to masturbate with every chance he got. Rather than standing up for his marital rights, he had bowed to my superior will and spinelessly accepted his inferior role, both as a diaper-wetting sissy, and now as my cuckold. And instead of trying to prove he was a man in the bedroom after all--he instead saw his diapers as an opportunity for his perverse, sexual gratification. When I explained my frustrations to my girlfriend, she was only too happy to help and she advised me to immediately get him fitted for a very secure chastity device--preferably one in pink if I could find it. This, I have done, and when the Holy Trainer arrived via FedEx, I smiled broadly as I examined the restrictively short, stubby tube his little penis would soon be occupying permanently. That day also happened to be date night and when I pulled his diapers down that evening, I smiled again as I introduced Bob to his new friend. "This will put an end, once and for all to your erections, as well as your daily masturbating," I explained to him as I pulled his little package through the irregular pink ring. Bob squirmed and whimpered, seeing his last avenue of pleasure about to be locked away forever. "I hope your last orgasm in your diapers was a good one, because it was the last one you'll ever have," I told him firmly as I slipped the short tube over his little shaft, compressing it inside until the two parts were mated. Inserting the long, unique key, I rotated it, locking the device in place and ensuring his little nub would never again grow beyond an inch. "Don't you just love the pretty pink color? It's perfect for a bedwetting sissy like you," I said as I began sprinkling baby powder to his front. Bob bunched his fists and bit his lip but he knew better than to actually stand up to me. His wooden paddle was only a couple feet away and he knew I wouldn't hesitate to use it if he got fussy with me. Since that day, a wonderful, calm sense of satisfaction has settled over the house. Well--for me, anyway. I no longer see his little pee-pee sticking up when I change his diapers--it's securely stuffed nice and snug inside his short, pink chastity tube. And now I have the absolute certainty he can no longer enjoy his thick pampers for masturbation anymore. Instead, the little pantywaist is kept horny and frustrated--just as he should be and just as I was, for the first year of our marriage. He no longer sees his soft, fluffy diapers as a source of pleasure--instead, they are a constant, humiliating reminder of his sissy status and of the days when he was able to freely rub the front of them to a dizzying orgasm. I've told him that bedwetting sissies don't need orgasms like real men do and that he can get used to a life of complete and total chastity. THE END