"Good boy, you took that like a man! Now take off your jockstrap and give it to me. I'm going to wear it home as my trophy," said the giant waving his still half hard baseball bat of a cock around in a teasing manner.
Gulp, thought Ryan as he stared at the massive cock.
Horst didn't think, he just obeyed. He pulled Ryan off forgetting for the moment that it was anything but a jockstrap. He held it out, and suddenly felt frightened and alone. He hadn't realized how confident wearing Ryan made him feel. He started to pull the jockstrap back, but the man yanked it out of Horst's hand.
"Mine now, just like your ass, boy. Now get your other clothes, get dressed, I'm taking you home," he ordered.
Horst's ass and throat ached. Had he really taking all that cock? He felt dirty and his skin was crawling. All these gay guys having sex in a bar. Hell, what had happened to him? It had to be Vinnie. He knew Ryan was as straight as he was - Ryan? Oh, shit! He glanced back at the big man stretching the jockstrap as he stepped into it. "Sorry, Ryan," Horst muttered to himself. He grabbed his clothing from the coat room, and hastily dressed. He had to get away. He was dressed and he lunged toward the door. A strong hand gripped his shoulder.
"Going without us," the man said.
"Us?" Horst asked nervously.
"Yes, me and your jockstrap buddy Ryan," the man said with an evil grin.
Ryan was screaming in agony. His mind was an open book to his new owner, as he stretched to bursting around the big man's junk and waist. He had been made to fit Vinnie, not Horst and most certainly not his new owner Rex.
"Hurts so good, don't it, Ryan," he whispered to his crotch. Horst winced at what Ryan was going through.
"Now," continued the man as he steered Horst out of the bar and toward his black van, the man said, "Now you're going to tell me all about Vinnie, Horst. Then after you are properly trained and Ryan's properly broken in, we will go pay a visit to Vinnie. He'll change Ryan back, and then he'll transform you, Horst. Would you like to be leather chaps? A jockstrap like Ryan? Maybe we'll even let him wear you? Or perhaps a nice tight t-shirt for me to wear?"
Horst gulped as he climbed into the back of the van and let the man put a dog collar around his neck, and chained him to the wall of the van.
The van started up.