Rick had produced a large empty cardboard box, and giggling while he carefully positioned the plush Chad life-size stuffed pillow man in the box folded with his massive plush penis jammed into his own furry mouth. Chad was too big for the box, but pillows are crushable. Rick forced Chad's arms and legs into the box on top of his bent torso. Then with his knee crushing plush Chad to fit in his box, Rick slid the photo of half naked Marco down the side of the.box. Then, Rick started to fold over the lid flaps to interlock and close the box. In the process some of the cardboard tore. So now that Chad was stuffed uncomfortably into the small cardboard box, Chad focused on his own cock gagging him. He was immobile, compressed and disstressed. At least he didnt have any broken bones. If he had been human, the way he was folded and stuffed into the small cardboard box, he'd have had dozens of broken bones. Dim light streamed in through the torn box. He could see Marco's smiling face grinning at him from between Chad's folded thighs with his one eye that wasn't pressed against his plush fur body.
Chad suddenly felt himself lifted up in the box, carried and set down. Rick giggled, "You're a bigger lightweight than I expected, Stuffed Chad. Hope you like your new life, not that you got a choice."
Rick whistled while he did whatever he was doing for the next couple minutes, then Chad heard the sound of his own locker clanging shut. Of course, Rick was policing Chad's gear and clothes.
"Think I'll keep some of these clothes, they'll look good on me," Rick remarked, "Sim card in the trash, can prolly get a few bucks for the phone. Yeah, that'll do," Rick murmered to himself. Then he hefted the box up in the air. Chad heard the locker room door slam shut, and the light illuminating his new owner Marco's photo got brighter, as Rick carried the boxed quarterback outside. Rick then unceremoniously threw the box into the bed of his pickup truck. Chad felt the box skid along the metal bed, bounce against one wall of the pickup bed, and then another before coming to a rest.
"Yo, Rick, can I bum a ride!" shouted Bruno.
"You're dripping wet," Rick said pointedly.
"If you can wait, I'll dry off and change," Bruno said, "or I can lay in the back of your pickup and work on my tan, while you drive? Hey, what's in the box?"
"I guess, I can wait five minutes, but if you're not back here in 5, I'm leaving without you," Rick sighed.
Bruno said, "Thanks!" and the slapping of his bare feet on the pavement retreating from Chad indicated he was running back to the lockers.
Rick sighed. He got into the cab of the pickup. The suspension sagged under Rick's weight. Chad's box slid a couple inches to one side in the pickup bed. Rick turned on his sound system.
The old 80s song The Reflex blared out of the speakers. With his own permanently stuffed cooked jammed into his plushy mouth, Chad was almost certain that Rick had chosen it specifically for him. Damn, he was horny. He wished he could jerk off or even suck his own cock, but he could only sit there contorted in the box looking at the shiny photo of Marco with his bulging jockstrap.
As he stared at the photo and listened as Frankie Goes To Hollywood end, and David Bowie's China Girl begin on Rick's Playlist, Chad wondered what it would be like to be Marco's new cum toy. The Forrester Quarteback was a hunk. It could be worse, Rick could have changed him into a pool toy for Bruno. He mentally shuddered.
The sound of a car door opening, followed by Bruno's booming voice, "4 minutes, 15 seconds." Something slammed into Chad's box. The truck door slammed shut. Presumably, Bruno's gym bag had been thrown into the back of the pickup with the boxed plush stuffed quarterback.
"So let's get going, Rick!"
Bruno's here, thought Chad. Maybe it is a prank after all. Rick loves an audience. If Rick had really sold Chad out to be Marco's cum rag, he wouldn't want an audience, he wouldn't want Bruno here.
"Okay, I'll take you home," Rick replied.
"Not quite what I had in mind, stud," Bruno said. The slurping noise that followed conjured images of Bruno's tongue licking Rick's neck and behind his ear. Bruno had done that to Chad twice, so Chad always managed not to let Bruno get that close.
"Oh, alright, but I gotta make a delivery first," Rick said. The truck engined roared to life and the volume of the music trebled.
"Master and Servant" blared. Maybe the Playlist was Rick's and Bruno's, and not intended for Chad after all? NIN's Closer, Queen's Rocket Queen, and some songs Chad didn't recognize but with similar themes played for the next 20 minutes.
The truck lurched to a stop. The music was silenced. Rick shouted, "I got a package for Marco."
The sound of an electronic gate opening followed. The truck lurched forward.
Chad wondered whether Marco lived in a gated mansion, or merely a gated community. If he was paying Rick 50 grand, it was probably the former. The dude was still in high-school.