Chad woke with a start. He wasn't in his room or his bed. He smelled guy sweat, and it was hot and damp. It wasn't a dream. He really was a jockstrap, Rod must have come back. No, this guy's cock isn't as big. Who the fuck would take a cum soaked jockstrap from the lost and found bin and wear it? wondered Chad. He had a bad feeling, worse than simply being a jockstrap. He was totally in the dark about who was wearing him.
Hours passed. Chad could feel the grimy sweat grinding into his fabric body. At last light streamed in, his wearer pulled Chad out of his sweat pants, and tucked him under his balls and started to piss at one of the locker room urinals. It was so infuriating, Chad had gotten a good look at the stubby wide uncut dark cock and balls covered with black pubes, but the guy's hairy belly blocked the view of his face. Who the fuck was wearing Chad, until he knew, he was afraid to speak. His best bet was that the guy would eventually take him off, and then he might turn back. Chad seemed to know that the longer he was used, the longer he would remain a jockstrap. He caught himself before screaming "Please take me off!" Maybe the guy would check himself in the mirror?
His mind was racing, who smelled like garlic? This guy did.
At last the guy lay down, Chad felt a hand on him through the sweat pants. Fuck, the pig was jacking off, and Chad was still in the dark. Hot cum gushed into Chad mixing with Rod's dried cum. This stuff tasted saltier than Rod's cum, fuck, Chad had joked with some of the guys that gave him and his teammates head that they were cum-osseurs. Now he was one of them. Fuck no! He tried not to absorb, but his new jockstrap form was apparently super-absorbent. Yum, why did cum have to taste so good? He was disgusted with himself, but he was still hungry.