I wanted to make sure that Vinne would find me on Monday, that I wouldn't be lost, and I didn't want to be worn longer than I had to be by Cy or anyone else. So I asked for Cy to put me away for safekeeping. He took me off and stuffed me into his bag along with his gym clothes before heading off to shower. It was pretty good of him, it isn't like I could do anything to object no matter what he did to me or that my thoughts had done anything to make him like me. I could tell he 'overheard' me thinking of him as a fag.
So there I was a jock with the other clothes shortly joined by a towel as well then then tossed into what must be the bottom of a locker. Five minutes after the last jostling motion I realized I had made a mistake. Nothing to see, nothing to do, not even much in the way of sounds, nothing but the reality of being a jockstrap stuffed tightly into a bag. I think I started to hallucinate.
It seemed I was human and working out. But instead of working out in some normal way it was some unrealistic machine that worked out every part of my body at once. In the dream it seemed perfectly natural to be working my legs, arms, chest, abs, and back all at the same time. After working out for a while some other man tapped me on the shoulder and for some reason I lay down with my chest on the bench that was in front of me. The nameless man got in the machine behind me and inserted his cock into me before he started to work out! That wasn't what I wanted at all, but every time he did a rep I felt compelled to push myself backwards towards his crotch. I felt his whole cock slide into me and then his balls as well. He kept working out as I shrank down, pushing myself into his crotch until I was nothing but a jockstrap on a guy working with swelling muscles while everything faded to black down a long tunnel.
Ryan, Ryan, are you there? The mental 'voice' had cut through a distant noise that reminded me of some sort of buzzing in the darkness. I was coming back to awareness, my thoughts sluggish.
Who was Ryan? Was that someone who wore me? I was being worn again doing my job as a jock supporting the genitals of the guy wearing me. A name came to me, Cy, that's right he was Cy and I flex my pouch in a friendly greeting as I became aware of him looking down at me around his crotch.
This is weird, don't you remember who you are?
Who I was? I'm not a person, I'm a jockstrap. A hungry jockstrap, I wonder if I might eat soon and what I would have. Though his repeated mention of the name Ryan tugged at some memory. Then the dream came back and then what had brought on the dream, me being a jockstrap left in a gym bag. Oh holy fuck, I was a person who'd been turned into a jockstrap. I must have lost consciousness while left alone.
Cy thought, I decided to check on you after school rather than heading home right away. He tried to block his thoughts from me about the images he caught from the hallucination I'd just recalled.
Fuck, thanks. I guess it's a bad idea for me not to be worn. Fuck, I really thought I was a just jockstrap. That's... Whoa.
Cy started putting on his street clothes thinking about going home and how to handle the long three-day weekend.