Authenticity (vignette)

*** Just a rough sketch of an idea I wanted to get down before I forgot about it! ***

“I can’t believe you did this,” I said, squeezing Paul’s hand to convey my simultaneous sympathy and frustration.  “What the fuck were you thinking?!”

The sculpted, sandy-haired stud shook his head, using his free hand to gesture down at himself.  I’d seen Paul in his underwear plenty of times, anyone who followed him on social media was already intimately familiar with the blonde’s astonishing physique, but the bulky diaper currently wrapped around his waist was a new look.  “I didn’t think I was signing up for this!  It was just supposed to be a fetish thing, you know?  We’ve talked about it, man…I’ve done it a bunch in the past.  How do you think I paid off my student loans so quick?  But this is…different.”

“That’s one word for it,” I sighed, my guilt and arousal growing in equal measure.  Paul and I had only ever hooked up once, and even then, “hooked up” might be too strong a word.  We’d gotten drunk, then naked, messily jerking each other off and never talking about it again.  Physically, I wasn’t anywhere near the level of Paul’s perfection, hovering squarely in the “average” range, but, to his credit, my friend wasn’t the type to lord his looks over anyone.  We didn’t talk about it because he knew it made me uncomfortable, not because of any regret on his end, and I’m sure he would have been happy to do it again if the option presented itself.  I’d certainly been tempted plenty of times, but watching the revolving door of equally gorgeous men leaving his bedroom, my insecurities had gotten the better of me.  He also legitimately was one of my best friends, and while I was certain he’d have no problem keeping a boundary in place, I didn’t want to run the risk of catching feelings that would complicate things.  “Walk me through it again?”

“There’s not much to tell,” he said, quickly shaking his head when he saw the look on my face.  “I mean it!  This part is a lot, but what got us here was pretty straightforward.  Dude reached out to me and offered an exchange for some diaper stuff.  I’ve done weird shit before…I didn’t think this would be any different.  And considering what he said…” Paul trailed off, blushing.

“You mean the part about him magically “locking in” your looks,” I said, my tone making it clear how I felt about the topic.  “And you believed him?”

“I know, okay? I know how that sounds.  But he knew stuff, man.  Stuff that no one knows.  I mean, no one other than you, anyway,” Paul said, the shade at his sharp cheeks growing a deeper pink.  “And what did I have to lose?  It sounded fun, if nothing else.  He’d send the shit for me to wear, I’d send him the pics and videos.  We do that for a year and boom, beautiful body for life.”

“Of course you’d think this was fun,” I grumbled, rolling my eyes.

“Are you seriously kink shaming right now,” he spat back, giving my hand a squeeze.  “Maybe you should lighten up and try something new every now and then.”

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, hoping that a break from his sparkling features, perfect pecs, powerful arms, and impossible abs would help clear my head.  “So the box with all this stuff in it arrived and…”

“And I got to it,” Paul said matter of factly.  “He wanted a video of me on the blanket, putting the diaper on, so I set up the camera, got naked, spread out the blanket, and laid down.  But the second I grabbed the diaper I…I mean my…it…” I opened my eyes when his grip on my hand tightened, in time to see the color drain from his face as he looked down.  “Everything just went weird.  It was like I was on autopilot.  I put the diaper on, but already my body felt weird.  It moved weird.  I could hardly talk.  It took forever to even sit up, and I barely managed that.  Luckily I was able to crawl over and grab the tripod to get my phone, but it still took like twenty minutes before I could get anything close to a message out.  My fingers just wouldn’t…they wouldn’t work right.  I was hoping you’d eventually come check on me after so many calls.”

“It’s okay,” I said, the thought of my friend in distress eclipsing my frustration over the fact that it was self-inflicted.  “That part was smart thinking.”

Paul’s eyes went wide.  “That’s what’s so weird about it.  My brain was working totally fine, it was just my body that wouldn’t cooperate.  At least not until you got here,” he said, looking down at our locked hands.

“Should we try again,” I asked, moving to let go.

“No!  Not…not yet,” Paul barked, squeezing so tight it hurt.  He relented when he saw my wince but didn’t release his grip.  “I just need a minute.  As long as we’re like this everything feels fine.  But as soon as you let go I’ll be back to…that.”

I gave his thigh a squeeze with my free hand before motioning around the bedroom, specifically pointing out the odd clothing that had replaced Paul’s regular, fitted wardrobe.  Instead of the chinos and t-shirts and athleisure gear that a sculpted twenty-five year old would normally own, the closet and dresser were full of various diapers, adult-sized onesies, tiny, ill-fitting t-shirts, and, most alarmingly, only a few pairs of bulky shorts.  “And all this other stuff just appeared when you opened the box?”

He swallowed hard and nodded.  “I didn’t notice it at first.  I was a little preoccupied, you know?  But while I was stuck on the floor waiting for you I started to see things that shouldn’t have been there,” he said, his eyes darting to the open closet and its assorted onesies and blankets.  “The guy said he wanted ‘authenticity,’ but how is any of this…?”

“Hell if I know.  I’m more worried about…” I started before cutting myself off, deciding not to mention the strange thoughts hovering at the back of my mind.  The longer we were together, the less odd Paul’s predicament seemed, and I kept catching myself thinking of his current state as the status quo.

“Me too,” he said, his hand shaking in mine as he thought about the implications.

“If…if that part’s real…and I hope it’s not, but if it is…why me,” I asked.

“The guy told me to pick a ‘caretaker’,” Paul shrugged.  “I thought it was just, like, an emergency contact or something.  I didn’t think it would mean this,” he said, raising our joined hands.  “I didn’t think you’d be the only one who didn’t see all this shit as normal all of a sudden.”

“But that’s not necessarily a bad thing, right?  I mean, if everyone thinks this is normal, doesn’t that make it easier?”

“No!  I don’t want people thinking I’m some…some…overgrown freak,” he spat, shaking his head.

“Who’s kink shaming now,” I asked, even though I understood where Paul was coming from.  He was the classic pretty-boy and always had been.  Though he wasn’t an arrogant monster, he also wasn’t oblivious to his physical superiority.  He was used to being the center of attention and lusted after.  So now, to still be a stud, mostly, but one who was clad in nothing but diapers and infantile clothing, with a body that wouldn’t cooperate, was a massive adjustment.

“This isn’t funny,” he cried, his frustration getting the better of him as he tore his hand from mine.  I resisted the urge to reach out and grab it again and watched as the changes washed over him.  Though he was merely sitting upright on the edge of his bed he already appeared unsteady, and his fingers clutched broadly at the sheets.  “Fuck!  Hand,” he sputtered, his arm clumsily reaching out.  “Me…hand!”

The motion tilted the tenuous balance and he went tumbling back onto the mattress.  “It’s okay!  It’s okay,” I said as he stared up at me with wide eyes.  I could see his perfect pecs heaving and his impressive physique tensing as he struggled to sit up again.  “Just breathe, okay?  I’m not going anywhere.  I promise I won’t just leave you like this,” I said, gently pushing down on his chest to cease his struggling.  “We need to figure out what we’re working with, alright?  Can we do that?”  I waited for him to nod, the frantic look gradually fading from his eyes.  “How do you feel right now?”

“Weird…stuck!  It…bad!  Can’t…words…no…”

“Easy, easy,” I said, stroking his chest when I saw the panicked expression coming back.  He’d started to tense again, his body inflating impressively despite the reduced coordination.  “Just keep breathing, okay?  Take your time.”

I could feel his heart racing against my hand even as he nodded, his handsome features going determined.  “Clumsy,” he finally said.  “Heavy.  No…coord…coordin…move right,” he stammered.  “Words…hard…say.  Think…good…talk…bad…” he finished, his face beet red.

“So you’re still thinking just fine, but it’s all getting jumbled up when you try to move and talk,” I said, smiling when he nodded.  “See?  Look at us.  We’re communicating just fine, dude.” I reached out and gave his impressive washboard a gentle rub, shaking my head at his stern expression.  “I mean it!  I’m not making fun of you, I promise.  I hate to have to bring this up, but I’m not going to be able to hold your hand all day, every day, man.  I’m legitimately happy to know you can still get your point across even when I’m not.”

“Ba…bare assed…” Paul said, even as his expression softened.

I laughed and shrugged.  “Considering what you roped us into, I think the way you talk is going to be the least embarrassing thing we do together.  Speaking of…should we check on the rest?”  I reached down and gave his bulky diaper a pat, bracing myself as I undid the unwieldy garment.  Paul had told me what happened, but even still I wasn’t prepared for the petite little nub that awaited me underneath.  He should have had a thick, hefty seven inches with heavy, potent balls, but as I watched the shrunken organ twitch it was clear he’d top out at less than half that.

“Bad!  Bad small!” he cried, reaching down with a fumbling hand to swallow the diminished equipment.  He let out a gasp as he did so, his eyes going wide again.

“What?  Is everything okay,” I asked, reaching for his free hand before I saw what he was doing.  “Oh.  Well, at least everything still works, right,” I said as he kneaded.

His face was purple when he forced his hand away, the shrunken log having reached its full three inches.  “Wow…” was all he said, a dazed look on his face.

“That might need some more clarification.”  I reached down and took him by the hand again, watching the subtle changes wash over him in the opposite direction as he regained control.

“Holy fuck that’s intense,” he said with a shocked laugh as he easily propped himself up onto his elbows.  “I can’t believe how sensitive it is.  That’s…wow.”

“I guess we can consider that a silver lining,” I said, amazed at how different he looked without the girthy package.  I let out an exasperated laugh of my own as I stared, still dizzy from the altered reality that had settled on top of the one I knew.

Paul hesitated.  “I, uh, couldn’t help but notice you said ‘us’ earlier…”

“It’s not like I’m going to just leave you hanging.  You’re sure I’m the only one who can bring out the old you,” I asked, trying not to think about the extra responsibility I’d just been gifted.

The color drained from his face as he nodded.  “Yeah.  Now I understand what he meant by the whole ‘caretaker’ thing.”

“You didn’t really answer my question, though.  Why me, specifically?  Don’t you have more, uh, kinky friends who’d be a better fit for all this?”  I didn’t know what to make of his hesitation, or the bashful expression that followed.

“When it comes to people I trust…you’re it, man.  Yeah, I know other people who’d probably love to get their hands on me like this, but that’s precisely why I wouldn’t want them around, you know?  You’re the only one I ever really…” he trailed off, the ruddy hue creeping back onto his face.  “I mean I…you just always seem like…”

I raised our joined hands along with an eyebrow.  “This still working?  You should be able to talk just fine, right?”

“I still think about that time we fooled around.  A lot.  I think about you a lot,” he finally said, taking a deep breath.  “I never said anything because I didn’t think you were all that interested.  I mean, you’ve got your shit so together, you know?  And I’m just your slutty friend who…”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa…don’t diminish what we have.  You’re not JUST my slutty friend…you’re my slutty BEST friend,” I interrupted with a laugh.  “What…what are you saying right now?”

“I was kinda hoping it was obvious.  I’m crazy about you, dude,” he shrugged, his eyes going wide when he looked down at his rigid little rod and discarded diaper.  “Never pictured telling you quite like this…”

“Honestly?  I don’t rule anything out when it comes to you,” I said, squeezing his hand.  “I always just thought you had so many options, you know?  Why would you ever be interested in me when you…”

I was cut off by Paul’s lips on mine.  His strong arms wrapped around me, severing the hand-in-hand connection, and I was impressed by how nimble his tongue remained.  I could feel the shift in his technique, and the slight fumbling of his hands as they tugged on my shirt, but he didn’t stop.  He did, however, lose his balance again, sending us both down onto the bed and leaving his naked, writhing form on top of mine.

I reached for his hand when he came up for air, but he shook his head.  “No.  Fun,” he said with a mischeivous grin, pumping his hips to grind his shrunken member into me as his fumbling fingers tugged at my shirt.  “Bad clothes,” he grunted.  I raised my arms and let him slowly pull my shirt free, noting how he was already acclimating to the way his body moved.  He still lacked the fine motor skills he normally had, but it wasn’t taking him long to seize on what remained.  Paul had my bottoms stripped free soon after and my average, though comparatively massive, cock firmly in hand.  “Big,” he grinned, sliding down before I could respond and swallowing nearly the entire thing.  As with the kiss his bobbing head still proved surprisingly nimble, and his sparkling eyes seemed positively delighted at my gasping moans.  Knowing Paul, I’m sure he’d been worried about how he’d perform in bed under the circumstances, and he had to be relieved to discover that he was still more than capable.  If there was any doubt, the copious load he eagerly swallowed a few moments later succeeded in erasing them.  “Tasty,” he purred after sucking down every last drop.

I didn’t say anything as we switched positions, too busy savoring every moment of my lips gliding down his sculpted torso.  Paul hissed and gasped at the slightest flick of my tongue against his sensitive equipment, but I was still startled at his bellowing howl when I swallowed all of him.  I instinctively pulled my mouth away but he just shook his head and groaned for me to continue, squirming and writhing like he’d been connected to a live wire.  Unsurprisingly, he only lasted a few moments before launching his own meager eruption, though its size and intensity were apparently unrelated based on Paul’s ecstatic spasms.

“Too fast,” he barked, his prominent pecs heaving and glistening with sweat.

I could tell his flushed face was due in part to embarrassment.  “Just means we can do it again quicker,” I said, leaning in for another kiss.  We still had much to discuss: how we were going to deal with his new status of being a diaper-clad demigod in public and around others, what our new day-to-day was going to look like, how we were going to handle the basic necessities of bathing, eating, and going to the bathroom, and what, if anything, could be done to reverse all this.  But all that could wait.  At the moment, Paul was much more interested in experimenting with the more intimate aspects of the new status quo.

He pulled his hand away when I reached for it, shaking his head.  “Again!” he grinned.