[WARNING: Minor violence - someone stubs their toe, someone goes to pieces and ends up tossed piece by piece into a gym bag]
"Yes, Chad, this will do. Not quite what I had planned, but -" Rick said picking up a piece of the rubber gear Chad had become. Rick's fingers tingled as he held the enchanted rubber object. A wave of desire to strip naked, and gear up swept through him. All other thoughts vanished. The rubber would complete him. He dropped it back on the bench. Rick was hopping on one foot trying to pull his sock off when he stubbed his bare toe on one of the posts supporting the bench. He looked down, he was wearing only one sock, and his boxer briefs. He sighed, and glared at the gear that was Chad. "Next time, better wear gloves," he muttered. "Now to get someone to put you on, and see if you have the same effect on them," Rick continued as he dressed, "Hm, maybe I could wear you for a few minutes - fuck, what am I saying, if I hadn't stubbed my toe?" he shuddered, but he still wanted to put Chad on. He reached in his locker, and put on a pair of gloves. Then he took Chad's gym bag, and emptied the contents into the lost and found bin. Then carefully, he gingerly picked up each piece of Chad and put it into Chad's empty gym bag.
The pamphlet mesmerized Chad. Nothing else existed but the image at which he was staring and his desire to be it. That was one of the things his coaches had taught him over the years, how to visualize. Be the ball. Be the best. Be - what the fuck was that rubber gear called anyway? But he was it, he' d be the best rubber gear he could be. He felt flesh, and desire. It electrified him, he wanted it, and it had to want him. Then it passed. His moment to be worn, to wear, to be whole passed. He resumed staring at the picture. He felt himself separating, being pulled apart. Suddenly, the image was gone. He was in a dark stinky place that smelled like his gym bag. Gym bag? He's Chad, he's the quarterback, he's not a shiny rubber thing that naked guys need to put on? His self image was confused/ He remembered who he was, but he wasn't that person any more. He was a thing in his own gym bag. He was- wait, Rick did this to him. What was Rick saying?
"... had simply waited in the sauna, I wouldn't have this problem. Now Chad's a type of gear that I hadn't planned on, and I'm not sure how to control. The normal puppy gear, I simply put the dog collar on the wearer, and he's mine forever, but this one. Hell, it wasn't even in the pamphlet before.. I looked at every image, and that one wasn't there. It's there now though? I wonder, if it could be Chad's true nature or secret fetish manifesting itself in the pamphlet. Not that I mind the result, but there are no instructions on how to control this - maybe I should get Bruno to try it on? He's usually game for anything after a few beers. But what if I can't control him? It can't be that different from how the other gear wearers are controlled, can it? Lessee, the cat suit wearer is controlled by a belled collar. Puppy gear wearer is controlled by a collar with a dog tag identifying the owner. The urinal is just a urinal waiting to be used, boring but safe. Hm, but what is needed to control the guy wearing Chad? Hm. Maybe I shouldn't have dumped Chad's gear? Perhaps his helmet? Or jockstrap? Or-" he muttered to himself. Lost in thought, Rick cut through the darkened gym to exit the athletic complex, and walked straight into someone coming through the opposite door. He dropped the gym bag.
"Rick, what are you doing here?"