Because You Asked for It: Chapter 2 (Patreon)

Chapter 2. Jordan

I don’t think Kate understood how much diapers weren’t just sexual for me until after we were married. I think she wanted to ask for a while, but she didn’t work up the courage, probably for fear of upsetting me, until after a few months, when she finally asked why I was wearing a diaper under my clothes in the middle of the day. I didn’t understand the question at first - she’d known for almost two years about my fetish.

“I mean,” she said, “you’re just wearing it. You’re not, ya know, masturbating or anything.” I turned red – I hate it when I do that – a little bit because she said ‘masturbating’, but mostly because I didn’t think she could tell I was wearing. That was one of my go-to pairs of jeans, too, so I wondered how many other people had spotted me wearing over the years.

I wasn’t sure how to explain. “I ... they just make me feel good.”

“Like horny?”

“N-n-not just horny.” I hate it when I stammer, too.

“How then?”

“Um ... comfortable. Maybe, secure ... or safe.”

“Oh,” she said.

“Is that okay, me wearing whenever I want to?”

“Do you, um, use them?” That was how secretive I’d been about my wearing. She put me in diapers a handful of times since I first told her, but I hid the fact that I wet my diapers from her even after we moved in together. I suspect she knew, at least on some level, so maybe that day she was just confirming it.

“I, uh, pee in them, sometimes.” All the time, actually.

“Oh. Well, I’m okay with that. You don’t have to be embarrassed about it or hide it.” And then she left the room to go do laundry. It was that simple. I was glad she knew, but I still felt my wearing was private, and I didn’t ask her to be involved. It was really an almost non-existent part of our relationship. The only time it ever really came up was when I’d let her spank me - not my favorite thing, but she never got too rough with me - before sex; if we did that, she’d often diaper me afterward without me asking, but in total, I think she did that maybe 10 times going all the way back to when we started dating until I quit my job.

Once I quit and was working from home, I started wearing more and more. A lot of days, I’d diaper myself when I got out of the shower and would take it off just before she got home. I even got a trash can for the garage just for my diapers. I don’t know why exactly. It wasn’t that I was trying to hide it. Or maybe I was. Anyway, after six months, I finally decided to bring it up one night after sex.

“Honey,” I said. My head lying on her thigh, and I was looking away from her. I’d tried to have the conversation before, but I chickened out then. Whether it was the afterglow or the fact that I wasn’t looking at her, this time I was able to say it. “There’s something I want to ask you.”

“I think I know what it is,” Kate said.

“You do?”

“Yes, and I’ve told you. I’m very happy with our sex life. You’re much better at it then when we first started.” I was, and I guess am, insecure about that. I never knew quite how to feel about the fact that I could always bring her to climax with my tongue, but rarely with my dick. She couldn’t see my face, but she must’ve seen my ear turn crimson.

“I ... Okay.”

“That’s what you were gonna ask about, right?”

“ ... Yeah.”

“Fibber,” she said. “Sorry. Just tell me.”

“I, um ... it’s about my diapers.”

“Yeah?”

“Ya know I’ve been, uh, wearing them more often now.”

“I noticed,” she giggled.

“Well, I’ve, uh ... I want to wear them all the time.”

“Like 24/7?”

“Yes.” She didn’t say anything in response right away. The silence made me feel ashamed, and I regretted even bringing it up. Her hand stopped running through my hair, then she took it away entirely.

“Sit up,” she said. I felt like I was on the verge of tears, and I wondered if I had just screwed up our marriage somehow. I sat up but looked at the bedspread. “Can I ask some questions,” she asked. I nodded my head yes. “When you say 24/7, do you mean literally all the time?”

“Pre-pretty much, yeah.”

“So if we go to visit my parents?”

“Yeah.”

“Vacation?”

“Yeah.” She didn’t say anything for a few seconds, while I sat there growing more anxious.

“Would you, um, use the toilet at all?”

“Yes,” I said, maybe a little too enthusiastically. “I never, you know, in my diapers. And I wouldn’t use one if I thought I was about to leak or something, or just when I don’t want to.”

“How much will it cost?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Can you guess, just for now?”

I had put some thought into it, but I hadn’t put pencil to paper or anything. “$250 a month, give or take. Maybe a bit more at first ... I know that’s a lot.”

“We can afford it ... we may have to skip a few meals out each month ... can I think about it?”

“Sure, of course.”