Matt was enjoying himself immensely as running shorts. His senses were actually heightened in his inanimate form, so he could really make the most of the experience. The feeling of being wrapped around this guy's crotch, of feeling the body rubbing against his nylon 'skin', was simply amazing. Matt enjoyed the feeling of the powerful legs moving beneath him and the sweat drenching him. Happily his taste and smell and been modified, so that Matt actually enjoyed the taste and smell of the sweat that was marking him, and found that he couldn't get enough of it.
Matt loved the rest of the run, the bracing wind buffeting his exterior with the reassuring warmth of his wearer filling his interior. He was disappointed when he felt his wearer beginning to slow- being shorts he didn't exactly get tired so would have been happy to go much longer. More than that though, he didn't like the idea that he'd soon be taken off. He loved being worn by this hot runner but more than that, now that he was clothing he felt a kind of need to be worn. That was the whole point wasn't it?
But all too soon he found himself being tugged down his owner's legs, trying feebly to cling to the body but unable to stand up to the runner's immense strength. At least being held was something, even if it was nowhere near as nice as being worn, and he loved the feeling of being held in his owners' giant hands, before he was scrunched up and unceremoniously thrown in the washing machine.
Being washed was a rather less pleasant experience than being worn. He was stuck in a dark, noisy place being helplessly tossed round and round by the machine. He could feel and smell himself being thoroughly washed, which was pleasant enough he supposed, but he found that he greatly preferred the feel and smell of his owners' sweat to this detergent. After an age it entered the drying cycle and Matt was forced to lie there, trapped in this hot, stuffy machine beneath a ton of other clothing.
He felt so empty without his owner inside him, but it was somewhat relaxing at least. It gave him time to think about what he'd become next, after he turned back tomorrow. He loved being tight around his owner's body so maybe he'd make himself something even tighter, like underwear. Or he might just make himself these shorts again, he definitely wouldn't mind more time with that godly body.
Matt was lost in his fantasies until morning finally came, and he felt the reassuring touch of his owner's hand picking him up out of the machine. He put Matt on and started off on the morning's run, Matt feeling like he was in heaven, like he belonged around his owner's body. He once again was soaked in sweat and scent and he reveled in it, loving the thought of being marked as his owner's possession.
He was so wrapped up with the pleasure of being running shorts that it wasn't until the end of the run that he realised that he hadn't changed back. He was still a pair of running shorts, what the fuck had gone wrong? Thinking back he realised that his owner had ran a route which he didn't recognise, one which didn't go anywhere near his house. Fuck, he couldn't change back unless he was within the Chronivac's range, and who knew how long it'd be before he'd be within range again, if he ever was?
Matt found himself wondering how long he'd last as running shorts. Would he wear out and end up tattered and discarded, or would he be longer lasting due to the effects of the Chronivac? And what would happen to his mind? He'd adapted worryingly well to being running shorts after a mere day as them, he looked back with horror at how easy it had been to think of the man who wore him as his owner, how... right it had felt at the time. Even as he thought this a voice in his head was telling him to just give into it. He'd enjoyed being running shorts, and if he was going to be stuck this way he might was well enjoy it, right? Matt was tormented by his thoughts as his wearer arrived him and took him off, depriving him of even the comfort of being worn and leaving him lying empty on the floor.