Chad was still a Speedo, but being 10-20 sizes too small meant that he was essentially a thong now. His pouch and body stretched in agony to cradle Mike's manhood around his 50 plus inch girth. The fabric had to come from somewhere, and Chad's Speedo seat vanished into Mike's butt crack. He was also no longer happy. He could only be happy while being worn by Josh, as Josh had been a bit too specific. If Josh had simply compelled Chad to be happy being a Speedo or a Speedo that was worn by anybody, he might have been oblivious to his plight. Why did Josh take him off, where did Mike get another small Speedo to swap with Josh's? Did he do it intentionally? Did he know that Chad was the Speedo that he was now wearing?
Oh gawd, no! Fatso Mike just shifted his butt cheek and let out an hellish smelling fart, and managed to suck Chad deeper into his butt crack. Good grief Chad was damp where Mike's rosebud had closed on him. And as Mike waddled through the locker room, Chad felt himself being sucked deeper into the bowels of the giant man.
Mike was at his locker where he used a half dozen towels to damp dry his body, and then he stepped into the cavernous bib overalls that he usually wore, and buckled the suspenders. He put on his slip on shoes. He was done for the day, so he didn't bother with a shirt. He hopped on to his red scooter and began scooting out of the locker room, while Josh was just entering the sauna to search for Chad. Suddenly, Mike's meaty paw grab his crotch. Oh, no, he'd gotten his second wind, and was massaging his crotch through his overalls. Chad could feel Mike's manhood swelling, and stretching Chad to his extreme. If Mike hadn't been seated, Chad would probably have had his seat freed from the dark hole, but as 450 lbs securely weighted him down. But as it was Chad's body remained trapped, and was forced to stretch more than it had before to accommodate Mike.
Meanwhile, Josh hadn't realized that the dried cum he just blew his load into wasn't his own. He didn't know about Mike's fetish of stealing other guy's Speedos to use as masturbatory aids. He didn't normally wear the Speedos as they ripped, but when he saw how tiny the Speedo was that Josh took off, he knew it had to be extra stretchy, and wanted to try it. He was intrigued by the weird face embedded in the fabric. He wondered if it was supposed to a famous swimmer. He didn't care, the chubby cheeks made him pretend that he was blowing his load in a jock's mouth.
Chad sobbed softly to himself, Mike was chortling to himself. Mike had never found any underwear or clothing that fit so well. Mike used the lift on the back of his van to stow his scooter, and then drove his modified van home. He was looking forward to breaking in his new suit in his own private pool. He normally swam naked, but he would enjoy actually having a supportive suit for a change.
Because of Mike's girth, Josh never considered him as a candidate for who might have taken Chad Speedo. His list immediately narrowed to Bruno and Rick as the two most likely to covet Chad. He began plotting how to get Chad back from one of them, but which?
Chad sighed in relief as Mike slid off the chair lift and into his pool. The warm water eased his muscle pain. Mike masturbated, but didn't cum. Then he swam - well, really mostly floated, he dog paddled a lap or two. Finally, he exited the pool, and started to take the Speedo off. Yes, thought, Chad eagerly, as he was pulled out of the butt crack.
"Oh, this suit is so comfortable. Maybe I'll wear it to bed," Mike muttered to himself, Chad balked. He was going to spend the night on Moby Dick? Fortunately for Chad, Mike continued, "But I should probably let it dry first or I might get a rash."
Chad sighed in relief as he finally was peeled off the giant sweaty blob that was Mike. He was twisted up, and his face was unrecognizable, as Mike hung the twisted Speedo from the corner of a nearby lounge chair to dry. He waddled inside leaving Chad in a twisted mixture of agony being all twisted up, and relief at no longer being horribly stretched. Chad began to cry again, after all no one could see or hear him cry now, and he felt his life was over. He'd never fuck anyone again. He was a fat asshole's undergarment and masturbatory aid for the foreseeable future. This was his life now, and Mike had no idea who he was doing this to- maybe, maybe, if Chad could communicate with him.