"Hey, Brent, hope I'm not too early," said his sparring partner Dylan from Brent's bedroom doorway, "Your mom let me in."
"Oh, great I was hoping you'd come early. I just got my singlet back from the cleaners. You can put yours on in my bathroom," Brent said.
"Thanks, Brent," said Dylan heading into the bathroom, and opening his gym bag. "Oh, rats!" he exclaimed.
"What's the matter?" Brent asked.
"Oh, I don't have my singlet," moaned Dylan, "My mother must've taken it out of my gym bag to wash it."
"Well, here, you wear my clean singlet. It's still in the plastic wrap. I'll wear the dirty practice one in my gym bag," laughed Brent, as he carried Chad over to the bathroom and handed the singlet to Dylan. Dylan was in the same weight class as Brent, but he was bit taller and heavier, while Brent had a stockier broader torso. Brent always wore a size smaller than he should, so Chad was a tighter fit than Dylan was used to wearing. Chad's brief struggle with Dylan to not be put on was mistaken as static cling. He felt so humiliated with the other man's cock, balls and ass inside him. Every inch of rubberized Chad seemed to hug tightly to envelope every nook and cranny of Dylan's anatomy. He was surprised that Dylan wasn't wearing a jockstrap, he always had when Chad had seen him wrestle, but he remembered Dylan's mother had taken his clothing out of his gym bag to wash. For his part Dylan kept tugging at Chad trying to make him fit more loosely. He couldn't help admiring himself in the mirror. Brent's shiny singlet sure was a lot more flattering than Dylan's own. He bet his girlfriend Emily would really like to see him in it. He blinked the image of Emily in his mind shifted to Jimmy that tennis player who was always hanging around wrestling practice and matches. He adjusted his boner, and blamed it on the tight rubberised singlet, but the harder he got, the more he thought about Jimmy. Damn, why couldn't he get Jimmy out of his mind. His eyes drifted to the plastic drycleaning bag and the receipt from Jimmy's mother's cleaners. That had to be the reason, Dylan figured.
"Hey, Brent, hope you don't mind that I'm throwing major wood, but your rubber singlet is a lot tighter than my usual one," Dylan said coming out of the bathroom.
"Whoa, it looks like it's painted on you, bro," Brent said with a laugh, "I hope it looks that good on me. Maybe I'll even merit a second look from that hunky football hero Chad." Brent was already dressed in his spare singlet.
"Oh, yeah, one look at you in this and you'll turn Chad gay?" Brent joked, but he was half-serious. His mind was obsessing on the Jimmy kid since he put the singlet on. Could tight clothes make you gay? He wondered, if Brent wore looser clothes would he be straight. Nah, Dylan was sure it didn't work that way.
The two young men headed down to the basement to practice. The wrestling sparring match seemed to be going like usual, until Brent tried pull Dylan's arm back, and while Dylan's arm moved, his shoulder and torso didn't. His arm just stretched.
"What the fuck did you do?" Brent asked as he pulled Dylan's arm out to be about double its normal length.
"It wasn't me!" Dylan protested.
Brent found Dylan's new elasticity terribly hot, and he had to find out what other parts were stretchy. Dylan couldn't figure out how to use his new elasticized limbs, and soon was tied into a human knot by Brent. Brent just stared at the bow he'd made out of Dylan's arms and legs and giggled. He ran upstairs to get his cell phone to take some photos.
"No one's ever going to believe this," Brent said. He walked over to Dylan's bowed knotted body, and flipped him so his bulge and torso were visible. He couldn't help asking, "Does your wiener stretch too?"
"I don't know, but don't try it. Now just untie me. The more I try to free myself, the tighter the knots seem to get. How did you do that to my bones?" Dylan asked, "They're not supposed to bend like this." He sounded frightened. He really was afraid that Jimmy might see him like this and think less of him. Why was he thinking about Jimmy?
"It's not me. I thought it was you, Dyl?" Brent said.
"It's gotta be the singlet!" Dylan shouted. "We need to talk to Jimmy, he may know what's happening to me." Dylan doubted Jimmy would know, and he wasn't sure that was the singlet, but he desperately needed to be near Jimmy now.