"I-uh, oh, yeah, Snake," the guy said. He just interfaced with Ryan's mind, and suddenly knew that Snake shared Ryan's transformative affliction. He fished the keys out of the pocket of the shorts, he was carrying and dropped them on the floor. Snake bent down to pick up the keys to his new beamer, and the guy's double fists came crashing down on his head.
When Snake came to, he was on his knees having his face fucked by the guy.
"Sorry, Snake, Ry-guy told me what you are, and damn, if I couldn't use a new swim suit, in addition to a jock. Snakeskin don't you think?"
"Mmmmfptklooo!" Snake mumbled. He was already changing. He hoped the guy knew he said he would kill him, but he also knew his chances of that happening were relatively slim at the moment.
"Ah, perfect," the guy said a he snapped the jockstrap pouch over his still dripping cock, and pulled his new snakeskin jammers into place. "New living clothing, and I get them for free."
He tucked his BMW key inside the tiny pocket that was inside the suit.
If Snake still had eyes, they would have opened super wide. The pocket apparently was his colon, and it felt like someone had just shoved a boombox up his ass.
"Happy, Snake, look at the mess you've gotten us into? What's wrong with you?" Ryan's mind screamed at Snake.
"Dude, the guy's got a man crush on you, and you are totally a cum addict, selling you to him I did you a favor. But that dude's not going to keep you or me. I'll get us out of this." Snake thought back.
"So you can sell me again?" Ryan said sensing some of Snake's plan.
"I needs my wheels. And besides you're a cockwhore, Standish," Snake thought back.
"Hey!" the guy said waving to a guy across the room, "I've gotta talk to you."