Sinclair checked the washers, dryers, towel and clothing bins. Then he rechecked the clean Speedos again. Still he couldn't recognize Chad. Then a thought struck him.
Chad was there. Coach had broken him, and the sanitizer washed away the last of Chad's humanity. It was just an ordinary Speedo now. Coach smirked, laughed, and sighed. Chad could've been his perfect sex slave if he has more spunk. Spunk? He laughed. Spunk had several meanings. Perhaps that was where he went wrong with Chad. He pumped all those loads of spunk into Speedoboy. According to the book, there should have been only one just before changing it back into a man. Coach went home for the weekend.
Meanwhile, a confused Speedoboy soaked in a full cup of sanitizer. He had pondered about his fate initially. But after an hour or so, Chad stopped thinking. He totally zoned out.
Ty arrived early. He thought he could get his morning chores out of the way and then work on the video game he was designing. He frowned when he saw the tangled mess of Speedos where his neat stacks had been Friday. Dang, janitor. He must have moved them to dust the counter underneath them, Ty concluded. He wondered if the guy created any other messes. He would go through the athletic building to check before doing his chores and refolding the Speedos. Then he remembered the Speedo in the cup in the laundry cupboard.
Chad only became aware when Ty extracted a dry hardened stiff crumpled blue fabric from the now empty cup. The Speedo absorbed all the sanitizer in the cup. The sanitizer worked like starch to stiffen up the Speedo. Ty hurriedly pounced Chad flat using both fists. He shouldn't have left it in concentrated sanitizer over the weekend. He decided to soak it under the sink faucet in the laundry room. The streaming warm water removed the stiffness, it washed away the excess sanitizer. The Speedo was soft again. That worked. It was was a regular Speedo.
Chad wasn't hurt from the pounding, but it desperately needed to be worn. Ty licked his lips, he imagined himself wearing the Speedo in his hands. He desperately wanted- no needed to wear it.
Ty thought about putting the wet Speedo in the dryer, but the pool would be empty during second period, and he could go for a swim then. For some reason he really wanted to wear this Speedo.
He hung the Speedo to dry from a drawer handle in the towel cage. Then he went about his morning chores. Five minutes later, he checked the suit. It was bone dry. Must've been the sanitizer, he thought.
When Ty had finisished refolding all the Speedos, he grabbed the Speedo formerly known as Chad, and slipped into the laundry room to change. He pulled his jeans over the Speedo, finished dressing and returned to his post.
Coach Sinclair arrived a little late. He glared at the Speedos that Ty had neatly folded. Then he gruffly nodded at Ty, went to his office and closed the door. Chad ruined his plans by being less of a man than he thought. Still no one had called to report Chad missing. So that part of the spell had worked.
Coach Sinclair grabbed a folder of athletes photos that the used for press releases. He started shuffling through them. Who should be his next Speedoboy Slave? Todd, Rick, Bruno, Rod, Derek, Dylan, Dirk? He rubbed his chin with one hand and his crotch
Meanwhile, Chad was in the dark. He was content. He was being worn. He was warm and happy. It didn't remember it had once been a living breathing man. It was Speedo. Its only thought was, "Wear me!"
Splash. Chad was rudely awakened. It was second period, and Ty was alone in the natatorium. He had stripped down to his Speedo, and dove in the pool. Ty had been embarrassed whenever he tried to swim. That was why he practiced when the pool was empty. Today instead of splashing to stay a float, Ty was swimming with perfect form. He had no idea why, maybe his practice was paying off? In fact, Ty was channeling Chad's skills as a swimmer. Ty felt stronger and more confident.
As Ty swam, Chad remembered being human. He remembered Sinclair had stolen his humanity. Sinclair- his coach, his mentor, his friend?- had betrayed Chad. He had humiliated him. Sinclair had turned a man with a backbone who had stood tall into a few ounces of fabric that needed a real man's bone inside him to be whole. Chad seethed with anger against Sinclair.
When Ty finally dragged himself from the pool, he was exhausted. It was a good kind of exhaustion. Ty felt tired but invigorated. He lay on a bench resting after his swim. As he lay there, he thought about how Sinclair didn't treat him with any respect, after all he did for the coach. After 5 minutes, Ty was seething with anger and resentment. He sat up. His hand touched his Speedo. It was dry already. He dressed. Ty closed his fists, and decided he would have it out with Sinclair.