Because You Asked for It: Chapter 1 - Kate

A lot had changed recently in our lives. At that point, we'd been together for 5 years and married for 3-and-a-half. I’d just gotten a promotion to Senior Vice President and with it a nice raise, and I told Jordan if he wanted to quit his job, he could. We’d talked about it for two years. He’d never been happy in any job he’d ever had. What he’d really wanted to do was write, and he’d kept it up as a hobby but never made enough to live on. We did the math every so often and couldn’t make it work. I didn’t love the idea of becoming the main provider – we’d shared that responsibility before – but he was just unhappy. More bad days than good. It was a strain on our marriage, and I just didn’t like seeing him the way he was on so many days, and worse on Sundays, that sad puppy look he wore starting around 3 and kept wearing until bedtime. So officially, Jordan became a freelance writer, supplementing my income with enough to pay for the little extras in life. And he was happier, almost instantly, and I was, too, because he was.

Jordy had been honest with me about his fetish after we started sleeping together, a story in itself. He was 27; I was 30. I was his first. It was our fourth date, and he’d been upfront about his inexperience dating when we went out of the first time.  On that fourth date, back at his place, we talked well past the point when any other guy would have at least tried to get to second base, but I had to be the one to initiate it. In retrospect, I know how hard it had been for him to even ask me into the house. I’ve never been positive, but I’m pretty sure he didn’t cum that night, but he definitely made me cum, twice. He dove in head first! Being in the driver’s seat tickled that dominant itch I’ve always had and sometimes acted on, and it made me like him even more.

A month later, we were lying in bed after, and I asked him his fantasies. It was really my way of bringing the conversation around to my fantasy. He demurred, so I offered to tell him mine. “Spanking,” I said. He blushed.

“Giving or receiving,” he asked. 

“Giving.” To my shock, his response was to lay himself over my legs. I wasn’t even asking! But I didn’t want to turn down the offer and gave him some mostly playful smacks with a few stingers thrown in. When I was done, he laid there until I told him he could get up. He wasn’t the first partner I had spanked, but watching him get up on his knees and rub his butt, it was the first time I ever thought my spankee was adorable. The way he just put himself over my lap and laid there until I told him he could get up – ooh! I wanted to gobble him up.

“How was it,” I asked him.

“Okay,” he said without any enthusiasm. “Stings a little.” From then on spanking became an infrequent part of our sex life. I always wanted more, but I knew he only submitted to it to please me, so it was rare. I didn’t want to take advantage of his natural submissiveness; I may well have with another partner, but I was falling for Jordy. I wanted to keep him.

Once he’d rubbed the sting away, I brought us back to the original question. “So,” I said, “your turn. What’s your fantasy?”

“It’s kinda private.”

“Were sleeping together. How could it be more private than that?”

“It just is.”

“Oh, c’mon. I showed you mine.”

“Lots of people are into spanking. This is ... not so common.” Now I was intrigued. As a sometimes member of the local kink scene, I saw a lot of different fetishes, and while female-led relationships is where I spent most of my playtime, I knew people into impact play (lead pipe? Seriously? But to each their own), breath play, leather everything, wax, fire, needles (ever seen a woman laugh while her partner flicks the end of a needle he pushed all through her breast? Weird, beautiful, and kinda sexy), ponies, kitties, doggies, piggies. Seen a lot, heard about more.

“Please,” I said, taking his hands in mine. The way he wouldn’t look me in the eye, or even at my face, and turned so red was itself a turn on. I wasn’t sure how he’d respond when I said it, but I just had to. It just came out: “Do you need a real spanking? Because you’re this close to getting one, buster.” I made a mock-serious face to let him know I was joking. He didn’t seem to pick up on it.

Jordy sighed and said, “I have a diaper fetish.” I was vaguely aware of diaper fetishes, and I knew some people into ageplay and DDLG, but I didn’t know anyone into diapers, or at least I didn’t think I did. I honestly didn’t really get it.

“Oh,” I said, “See? That wasn’t so bad.”

“Do you ... do you think it’s gross?”

“No, Jordan,” I said, bringing my hand up to reassuringly stroke his beard, “I think whatever makes you happy is fine.”

“Promise?”

“Of course. C’mere,” I said, opening my arms for him. He hugged me, and we kissed, and eventually that led to round two of that evening. Come morning, he seemed to have a little spring in his step. Coming out to me was such a relief for him, it changed our relationship from casual-serious to serious. 

I tried indulging Jordy in his diaper fetish, but it just wasn’t my thing. He sometimes wore around me, though I’m pretty sure all but a few times he thought I didn’t know what he had on under his pants. That was about the extent of my involvement in his diaper fetish except on those occasions when I’d play along, just like those rare occasions when he’d let me spank him.

So it stayed for years, until that one day after he started freelancing, he told me he wanted to talk. I thought a lot had changed already. I never imagined how much more would change.