This is not the same story unfortunately. The main characters names are the same but it is a different story. Thanks for trying Icey.
Edit: Here is the first chapter. but i can't find the rest of it.
Sally's new baby husband 1
Sally has been married to Ian for several years. Sally is a good wife, but has grown tired of Ian's lack of appreciation for her. He seems more interested in his career and in sport than in paying attention to Sally, and she has been looking for a way to regain his interest. Sally meets an old friend, Dr Twain, who has just dealt with her own husband via a divorce. Sally doesn't want divorce, just Ian's undivided attention. She wants him to need her.
Sally carefully deadlocked the front and back door and put hers and Ian's keys in her purse before undressing and joining her husband in bed.
Her husband was already half asleep as Sally settled into the big bed, and he mumbled something about his diaper as Sally snuggled up next to him.
'Goodnight dear, everything's ok', she assured him as she put her arm across his shoulder and closed her eyes.
Ian had taken a little while to get used to sleeping in his thick diaper and plastic pants. He had unaccountably started wetting the bed a six months before. Well, not quite unaccountably, thought Sally. The sedative and diuretic had kicked it off, and the visit to Sally's friend, the recently divorced Dr Tania Twain, had ensured that Ian's childish habit would continue under his new regime of medicines. Indeed, his one wet bed per week was now a nightly occurrence, and Sally was deriving great pleasure out of taping her embarrassed husband into his diaper every night after she had helped 3 year old Ellie into her training pants. Ellie was now wetting only once or twice a week.
Sally and Dr Twain assured Ian that the increased frequency was part of the 'success curve' for the condition, and not to worry. However, Ian was privately worried about what was happening. He had heard of infantile regression; in fact he had read about it on a web site and had even, almost a year ago, ordered a 'Back to Babyhood' hypnosis CD which he had played once before feeling disgusted with himself and destroying the disc.
It was the old email records for the disc, and Ian's internet history for the period, that Sally had found as she cleaned out the hard drive on their old computer, which had led to Ian's current predicament. Of course the hypnosis tape, even if it were capable of effect, could not be affecting him now. Sally was hoping that Ian's fear of infantile regression, which he had made clear in his email to the adult baby forum where he had sourced the CD, would help things along. In his mails to the forum, Ian had described how ashamed he felt at enjoying wetting his pants occasionally, and of his guilty desire to wear a diaper sometimes. He had said that he would like to indulge himself every now and then, but was very afraid of doing himself some sort of mental damage, and actually regressing.
Sally was hoping that Ian would believe that the CD was having a delayed effect. She had had enough of Ian's selfish male ways, and had connived at the present situation with her man-hating friend Tania, and they both thought it would be fun to watch what happened.
Tonight, Ian's dinner and coffee had included a strong laxative in addition to the nightly diuretic, sedative and hormone cocktail. Not that the diuretic was needed now. A couple of evenings before, Sally found she had run out of the diuretic tablets. No matter, he had wet copiously anyway. Sally had kept up the diuretic treatment as a reinforcement and a precaution, however.
The next morning, Sally had woken first, as usual. Leaving Ian sleeping in his saturated diaper, she showered and was now sitting on the closed toilet, reading the morning paper.
Soon enough, she heard Ian outside the door.
'Sally, can I use the toilet?' he was asking.
Sally smiled. His voice had begun to sounded so cute as it cracked here and there. Ian's vocal cords were slowly shortening under the influence of the hormones, and he seemed to struggle sometimes to keep his voice lowered to a manly pitch. She let him wait.
'Please Sally, I need to use the toilet,' he said, his voice cracking upwards and staying there after the first two words.
He sounded like a desperate schoolgirl. Sally smiled again.
'Darling I'm on the toilet,' Sally replied.
She paused, and added, 'Can't you just use your diaper if you can't wait?'
There was no immediate reply.
Ian stood outside the door, bent over and not enjoying the cramps in his tummy. His wet diaper bulged under his plastic pants, and he had the bottom front hem of his t-shirt scrunched up in one hand. He had to use the toilet very badly.
'Sally it's not for that, I really need to go,' Ian squeaked.
'Darling, use your...' Sally began.
'I can't Sally, it's...number two...you know,' said Ian urgently. His voice sounded light, high and anguished. Sally turned a page of her book.
'Well, just hold on then, I won't be a minute. Even a three year old can hold on for a minute,' she responded with a grin.
There was silence form the other side of the door. Then there was a small grunt, followed by a groan, then silence again. A short time later, Sally could hear her husband begin to cry.
Sally waited until Ian's sobbing had become steady, then she put her book aside, stood up and opened the door.
Ian stood in front of her, his shoulders heaving as he tried to stifle his sobs. He would not look at her, but stared at the floor.
'What's the matter darling?' asked Sally, drawing him towards her. 'You can use the toilet now, is that ok?' she added, pulling Ian's head up and looking into his tearful eyes.
'Right on schedule,' she thought to herself.
She pretended to notice a smell.
'Ian,' she said seriously, 'have you messed your diaper?'
Ian looked down at the floor again, and his sobbing redoubled.