Chad's horror grew as the burly men lowered him from the truck onto a dolly in the stadium parking lot. He had thought they were taking him to Bruno, Rico and the others to change him back. Tonight was the sold out college game. Chad had tickets too. One man paused, and asked the other, "where do we put it?"
The other's phone rang, "Yo, Sammy. Huh? Uh, huh. Uh, huh. Okay. Will do!" Then to the first guy he said, " You ain't gonna believe this, but we gotta get moving. We'll put the 'un outside the locker rooms, cause the players toilets are out too, and they'll need it first. The trucks with the other 20 port-a-potties were in a pile up on the interstate. We need to go and salvage as many as we can. "
"Sheesh! One porta potty for both teams, and all the attendees? Yikes!" Said the first guy.
Chad was shrieking in his mind, you can't do this to me! One porta potty for thousands of people? No, no, no! I'm human. This is not funny anymore.
The ushers at the stadium got the manager, and the men explained the situation. They promised to return with more porta potties, as soon as possible.
While they were explaining, one of the players barged through them saying, "Gotta use the john."
Chad felt his cock and balls roughly handled as the powerful jock entered and locked the door. The guy opened his fly folded back his jockstrap pouch, and pulled out a huge cock. Chad stared up through the murky blue green liquid, as the stream of piss began blasting him in the face. When the guy was through pissing, he leaned forward to shake his cock dry. Chad recognized his brother Brad. He was State's team captain. Chad tried to call to him, but could only produce an odd gurgling noise. Then he realized that Brad was still tugging at his penis. He wasn't shaking it dry, he was jerking off.
As Brad's load splattered against the back wall of the porta potty, he announced, "I christen thee the official porta potty of the State College Pythons."
Then he lowered his pants to his knees and sat his bare ass on the toilet seat. Chad screamed use a seat cover! Brad, it's me Chad!
Plop! Plop! Brad added to the turds Chad had already consumed. He wiped. He didn't flush. He pulled his pants up, pulled out a marking pen, and started to write above his drying cum, "State Rules!" Then he wrote " Brad (555)555-5555" his name and phone number on the door lock. Brad paused as he exited. No one was around so he stopped to write on the door handle: "Brad Ruiz 11"
Chad felt the sharp hard wet tip of the permanent market on his skin, on his testicles and penis. He was humiliated, embarrassed, and relieved that his brother didn't know he was now State College Pythons official porta potty.