Everyday, week after week, Brad rode the tractor with his brother as the tractor tire. Everyday Brad pissed in the tire 3, 4 or 5 times. Sometimes Arlo would piss on Chad. Arlo rarely acknowledged Chad, if at all. The times Arlo pissed on the tire, Chad took as acknowledgement that he remembered Chad was really a man. The worst part was Chad orgasmed every time he was pissed on. That meant a little air escaped from his tire valve. Brad routinely inflated him each morning with the air pump by the barn. Once the crop was planted, Arlo found other chores for Brad. Once or twice, Brad took Chad out with a spreader attached to fertilize the crops or distribute weedkiller. Most of the time Chad stood half sunk in the mud. Chad was idle for days, and the days were getting hotter. Chad hadn't orgasmed in weeks. No one had pissed on him in ages. Chad felt miserable, and wallowed in his own self pity.
He did notice that Brad had switched from blue jeans and a shirt to just a Speedo and boots. Every morning Arlo sprayed tanning lotion or sunscreen all over Brad. He heard them joking that when Brad got back to college everyone would think he spent the summer on a beach. "No farmer tan, so no one will know you were a farm hand for the summer."
Chad noticed that all the toting fence posts, lugging animal feed sacks, and mucking out the stables and barns were making his brother's muscles really cut. He wondered about his own rubberized body. As he tires tore through the soil, rode down gravel and asphalt highways as his tread wore down were his muscles losing definition?
One day a harvester/reaper was attached to the tractor, and Speedo clad Brad dove Chad back across the field collecting the alfalfa crop. For days and days, Chad rolled through the soil, as the blades behind him harvested the crops.
After the crops had been harvested, Chad sat idle for a few days.
"Hey, Chad, you can let go of the wheel. I put the tractor up on blocks."
Chad stared. How long had he been human? He hadn't noticed until Arlo spoke. He let go of the wheel, landing with a splash in a mud puddle. He struggled out from under the tractor, got to his feet. As he brushed the muck off his body, he saw his skin was still blue rubber.
When he was on his feet, Arlo ordered, "Go in the barn and wheel out your replacement tire, Chad."
Chad silently when in the barn thinking that the replacement tire had finally come. It must've come when he was out harvesting the fields, he thought. When he saw the tire, it was covered with months of dust and cobwebs. Chad was furious. He rolled the wheel out, and over to the tractor. The smell of new rubber made Chad super horny.
"Now mount it, Chad."
Chad wanted to protest, but he couldn't open his mouth. His rubber lips were sealed literally. He pushed his rubber flesh against the rubber tire. Two bodies thumping together. He tried to remind himself that he was human- but the blue skin reminded him that he wasn't quite human again yet. He struggled a bit, but managed to manhandle the new tire into place.
"Now inflate it, Chad."
In retrospect, Chad should have gone over to the airhose, but instinctively as a former tire, Chad lined up his blue boner with the new tire's air valve. Then he jammed them together. It was the first real sex. His cock exploded into the tractor tire. His body deflated. He had experienced orgasms being pissed on, but none like this. This time he actually blew his load. He pulled free as the tire reached its proper inflation level. His head flopped haphazardly on his neck due to his recent deflation.
"Chad, get your blue rubber ass over here, so I can properly inflate you. Then we'll discuss your future," Arlo ordered.
Chad obeyed. He hoped that duscuss meant his mouth would work again. Arlo purposely over inflated Chad. The fresh air inside him felt great. He now had a swollen belly where his six pack had been, and his eyes bulged out, but he felt whole.
"So Chad, there's still a month before Brad goes back to college. I was thinking you might make a nice bench cushion for the tractor seat, or baby new blue waders for the fishing trip Brad and I will be taking. Of course, the waders can also be used by whoever is mucking the barns. Still I like the idea of turning you into a condom, and wearing you when I pop Brad's cherry. Oh, I know your bro is a top and mostly straight. But a few dozen beers laced with roofies and Viagra, and Brad will gladly bottom. Of course, there is the pool up by the main house. Brad said he'd like a pool float to lie on and work on his tan.
Chad still couldn't speak. He pointed to his sealed lips, then tried to bend his over inflated knees, so he could kneel and beg.
Arlo laughed at Chad the balloon boy's pathetic effort.