He screamed one word for what seemed like hours, calling Cy, the name of his boyfriend, in a repetitive wail.
One of Ryan's main concerns since becoming a jockstrap had been the fact that his cotton and plastic form weighed a mere four ounces. He didn't have to worry. Cy had likely added several pounds of beads, pearls, metal studs, and glitter. How gay was that? Glitter, for crying out loud!
Ryan tried to make his body move, but now even the cotton pouch felt too heavy for him to move with the feeble physical powers he still possessed.
His more immediate concern related to Cy's actions treating him more and more like an inanimate object with no say in anything that Cy wanted to do to him. What had happened to the Cy that only hours ago Ry had mustered the will and concentration to use his jockstrap body to squeeze a load from Cy's gorgeous cock.
Gorgeous! Cocks aren't gorgeous. That's so gay. What was happening to him? Ryan lost his focus and found himself hungering for cum. He wished Cy would return and feed him. He wanted to feel Cy's cock and balls enveloped by his cotton pouch. No, he didn't just want it. He needed it. He dreamed in the dark of the heat and scent of Cy's gorgeous cock and balls.
Meanwhile, Cy, or the Marquis DeCy as Ry had labeled him after his time in the torture chamber with Cy's bedazzle gun, began to reflect on his actions. His giddy enthusiasm and impatience to unveil his creation waned slightly as he got ready for bed. He realized that throughout the entire process, he hadn't once stopped for Ry's permission or input.
"Oh my God! That's so not like me," Cy whispered aloud and considered it. Well, it was somewhat like him. There were reasons why his being gay didn't shock that many of his classmates.
But why was it so easy to now think of the former athlete Ryan Standish as an inanimate object? When he wore Ryan as a jockstrap, they connected like soulmates. As soon as he took him off, Ry's status dropped significantly and it became so much easier to treat him like the jockstrap he had actually become.
Perhaps Vinnie's spell had some buried booby-traps even now surfacing. Cy punched his pillow a few times. "I've got to restrain my natural tendencies," he said. He knew he had inclinations to let his more flamboyant personality get the better of him.
He would explain to Ry in the morning, and sweet talk his boyfriend into forgiving him for stepping over a few boundaries. Besides, if they were going to be boyfriends, Ry needed to learn to let go and be himself.
Words that take on a new meaning when one is a standard issue jockstrap bedazzled to the max.
As Cyrus drifted to sleep, dreams started of the handsome stud of his dreams cradling his cock and balls.