Tim stared at the big naked blond guy with the words "Property of Tim" tattooed across his chest.
"That's impossible!" shouted Tim stepping back in fear.
Ryan looked confused. He moved awkwardly, it had been so long since he had arms or legs or a mouth. He worked his jaw.
"I don't know how or why I am human. I think I might have been human before, at least in my dreams I was human, I think? Or maybe it was the guy who wore me before that I'm remembering in my dreams? I really don't remember much before you marked me with that permanent marker. I recall you saying something about borrowing me from school, and you might have to buy McGurk a new jockstrap or give him the money? But that's about my earliest memory. I am your jockstrap. I am property of Tim. I don't know why I am standing or talking?"
"Why are you naked? Where are your clothes?"
"Clothes? I am a jockstrap. Jockstraps don't have clothing, I am clothing. I am your clothing."
Tim was shaking his head. This was too weird. Maybe there was peyote in the stew and he was hallucinating. He put his head in his hands and started rocking back and forth.
"Not real. Hallucinating. I need water."
Before he could get up to get some water, Ryan had thrust a glass of freshly poured bottled water into Tim's hand.
Tim swallowed the whole glass of water in one gulp. Then he looked up at Ryan, and stared, "You are real?"
"Yes, I am. Now please turn me back into your jockstrap and put me on. Being human feels weird."
Ryan was standing too close to Tim. His big dick flopped in Tim's face. Tim leaned back.
"Put some shorts on at least!" Tim ordered.
Ryan knew where Tim kept his other underwear, and opened the drawer and pulled on a pair of boxer briefs. It was about this point that Tim realized he was still naked from the waist down. He grabbed a pair of boxer briefs for himself, and noticed Ryan was staring enviously at the boxer briefs.
"You'd rather wear these?" Tim asked.
"No, I'd rather you wear me," Ryan said in a pouty voice.
Tim just shook his head. He sat down at his laptop, and hooked up the wifi. He Googled the high school where he got the jockstrap. News: Star Athlete Ryan Standish Vanishes Without A Trace, and photo.
"Okay, looks like your real name is Ryan Standish."
"I'm Property of Tim, that's my name," Ryan said defensively, "See it's printed right here."
"I've been wearing you for months, why did you change only now? What made you change?"
"I think it was that hot sauce?" Ryan suggested.
"That must be it!" Tim agreed.
"Good, go get some more and spill it on me, and maybe I'll change back into your jockstrap."
"No! What? You want to change back, but this article says you have family and a girlfriend, and a scholarship to college."
"Hey, Tim, I'm just happy to hang on a good guy like you, and support you the best way I can, while you help less advantaged people, and do the right thing. I don't really remember much other than being your jockstrap, but in my dreams, I don't think I was as nice as a guy as you. The world is better off, and so am I as your jockstrap. Now are you going down to get the food, or do I have to go myself?"
"No, you stay here. I don't think it will turn you back, but we can try it. Maybe if i get the recipe I can figure out how it changed you, and maybe how you became a jockstrap originally," Tim said rubbing his head. Before going downstairs he ordered Ryan, "You just stay in my room. Don't open the door to anyone but me, and don't leave the room no matter what."
"Yes, Tim, whatever you say, Tim. Your property will be here when you get back."
Tim closed the door and shook his head again. He half hoped the sauce would turn Ryan back into a jockstrap. Trying to explain where the tall half naked American with that tattoo on his chest came from would be difficult to say the least.
"The stew was delicious, Senora Vincente, may I have some more?"
"You liked it?"
"Yes, it's very tasty. What's in?"
"Old family recipe, cures whatever ails you," she said.
"Like magic?"
She laughed a bit too knowingly. "My aunt before she emigrated to America said it could break any curse, at least temporarily."
"Temporarily? You mean the curse will reassert itself?"
"I put plenty of bottled water up in your room. I told you not to drink from the tap. Montezuma's revenge is not a curse, just bacteria. I can get medicine from the doctor, if you need it."
"No, this will do nicely. I don't have diarrhea, just curious about the story your Aunt told."
"Ah, you like brujas, I mean what do you call them fairy tales? Well, my aunt, well, everyone said she was a witch, and I think she thought she was too. She used local herbs, and some local cacti in her recipe. No peyote, just some prickly pear cactus and juice from the barrel cactus, and an herb they say grew with the roses when the Virgin appeared in Guadalupe. We call it Angel's breath."
"What's her name?"
"Oh, she was Donna Angelica to me, but she married an American, Richard Cost, so she is Angelica Cost now."
She prattled on while the stew got cold, Tim listened, and upstairs Ryan paced. Then he sat down at the computer and started to read.