Rick produced a plastic vial from his jeans pocket, and carefully collected Chad's cum.
"Better drain you of your humanity. They said that you should stop cumming or produce black cum for your drone status to be permanent, " Rick said as he started to rub Chad's rubberized cock again. He managed three more white goo oozing. At last Chad was dry. He corked the vial, and said, "hope this means you're my drone forever. Now how to get you, where you need to be? If I had brought my car, you'd go in the trunk. Having you walk or run would probably take too long. You'd look funny riding double with me on my bike. Hm! What am I thinking, I always wanted riding leathers, or in your case rubbers. I'll just have to wear you."
Saying that Rick scrolled through some options on his phone, and selected one. Instantly, Chad felt his whole body jolt and liquefy. He streamed into Rick's shirt sleeves, up his pants legs, through his waistband. Rick was startled. He had expected the motocross suit to encase his clothes, but instead Chad was under the clothes next to his bare skin. Rick stared at the phone in his now Chad gloved hand, he was unable to move his fingers to cancel what was happening to him. He mumbled unintelligibly as the black rubber helet with face mask enveloped his head and gagged him. Rock was sure that Chad was enjoying himself and taking liberties with Rick's instructions. Chad had to admit shoving his cock and balls down Rick's throat to gag him was enjoyable, but he was following the program Rick had selected in every detail. Rick's shoes and pants lay in shreds. The Chad motocross suit tore off the last bits of rags from Rick's socks, underwear and shirt. Only Rick's frightened eyes were exposed. He watched as his gloved hands began to type a video call into the phone.