Chad felt like he finally was going to explode. He prepared for a huge orgasm. Nothing happened. His balls had tightened up, and remained tight, but his glans hadn't even leaked a single drop of cum. He felt warm liquid moving inside him, but nothing came out. Chad stared at his raging boner. He squeezed the glans hard as he stared at it. The spongy head of his penis looked normal, he thought as he studied it. Then he realized the piss slit was now just an indentations, and now was solid. There was no way he could cum or piss.
He got up to look in the mirror. What else had sealed up? Oh, man his body was super-sensitive now. As soon as his bare foot hit the floor, he felt like he triggered his orgasm, but he hadn't. He still was unsatisfied.
Cautiously, he lowered his other foot. He trembled. Every movement was a tortuous edging. Chad actually heard himself slosh as he reached the full length mirror.
Then he heard a lawn mower. Dirk was mowing again? Then a weird thought crossed his mind, "Why wasn't Dirk wearing him?"
He suddenly remembered all the times he had been Dirk's singlet and Rico's Speedo. He should have been horrified, but for some weird reason it excited him. He broke into a sweat. No, it couldn't be true. He wasn't Dirk's singlet. Even if he remembered being it, it was an hallucination. If he looked out the window, Dirk would be clad in his wrestling singlet, like usual.
Gingerly, Chad made his way to the window. He felt that he would explode with each step.
He leaned into the glass. His breath should have steamed it up, he realized the mirror hadn't steamed up either. Chad wasn't breathing. He was in a panic.
He opened the window all the way, and leaned out to shout at Dirk, but his voice remained silent. Dirk wasn't wearing his singlet, he was wearing shorts. What was going on? What had Rico and Dirk done to him.
He figured he'd better go out and confront Dirk. Chad turned to exit his room.