"Why do I suspect you, Bruno? Maybe it is because you drew that weird stylized B on Chad's back at lunch today presumably with your wet dick," the voice stated
"Well, it was only water..." Bruno replied sheepishly.
"Dude, you had a boner. You were drawing with cum moving your dick around while your hands weresssaging his shoulders."
"You were watching?"
"You did it out by the lunch benches."
"I gotta get going. If I see him, I'll Chad you're looking for him, Rick," said Bruno.
"Thanks. Bye, Bruno."
The pocketed jock was soon in motion again. He was pretty sure that Bruno was his new owner, but Rick's voice sounded closer, so maybe Rick was accusing Bruno to misdirect suspicion. It had to be one of them, right?
It was creepy, the longer Chad stayed a jockstrap the emptier he felt. He desperately needed to be worn. He needed to feel a warm hot set of cock and balls inside him to feel compleat again. He desperately was praying that his new owner would please put him on, and jerk off in him.
Chad tried to catch himself, to reject that idea. A part of him wanted to reject it. But the part of him that was cotton, spandex and lycra, which to be honest was mostly what he was now, that part wanted to be own, worn, used and abused. Chad had been a jock, now he was someone else's jock. It didn't make sense, but weirdly it did.
Please put me on! Thought Chad.