Andrew was going home after the Speech Meet, tired beyond belief. After completely dominating at Extemp. Speaking, he was ready to go home and just cozy up by the fire with Harry Potter & hot cocoa. It was way too cold! He was a Florida boy living in Pennsylvania, so he wasn’t used to a cold winter! Walking down the hallway, his mind was bundled up somewhere in his heavy winter coat. He barely realized it was the night of the school hockey game. What did make him realize it, was the winning team walking triumphantly toward the locker rooms. He walked right into Josiah Robinson, #39 on the team, and the captain.
Josiah was disgusting after the game, his long brown hair was stringy with sweat & he absolutely stank of b.o. and pit smell. Andrew shot him a dirty look, clearly irritated that Josiah “inconvenienced” him ever so slightly. Josiah stared back, and broke a snarky smirk. He took off a big red glove, and took out his yellowed mouthguard. After grasping Andrew by the back of the neck, he shoved it into his mouth, and held his jaw shut. The team laughed hysterically as Andrew flailed around and tried his damndest to strike Josiah. Andrew could taste the leftover chewing tobacco in Josiah’s spit, the Copenhagen-tasting slime coating his tongue and teeth. Josiah only smirked, flashing his chipped smile. It was only a few seconds, but it felt like hours.
Eventually, Josiah let up and walked with his team back into the locker room. Andrew immediately took the disgusting guard out of his mouth. Coughing and spitting Josiah’s nasty saliva out, Andrew tossed the mouthguard across the hall. After a quick freak out and hyperventilation session, he promptly passed out onto the freezing cold floor. When he awoke, all the lights in the hall were turned off. Andrew could still taste Josiah’s spit in his mouth as he picked himself up off the ground. He pulled out his chirping cracked phone, notifying him that it was almost five in the morning! He ran to the doors at the end of the hall, trying to escape the school, only to discover them locked tight. He only knew of one more exit from the building that might be open: through the locker room.
Meagerly, he pressed open the door to the Men’s Locker room, discovering that the Hockey Team left it a disastrous mess after the night before. Skates and pads littered the floor & benches, making hidden obstacles for Andrew to avoid. He saw the illuminated red exit sign at the far end of the room, and made a dash toward it. Unfortunately, not before falling face-first onto the ground, tripping on a wayward helmet. Laying on the ground, he noticed a familiar stench. He couldn’t place it, until he noticed where he landed: right in front of Josiah’s opened locker, his face buried in his grimy jockstrap.
He neurotically backed up against the bench, trying to back away from the disgusting article. He looked around him, discovering Josiah’s gear surrounding him: nasty socks, shin pads, elbow pads, skates, shoulder pads, and hockey pants all spilling out of a well-used Adidas bag. The smell of this gear assaulted him. If it was any indication, Josiah always bragged about his lucky gear: how he “blessed” it with his hard earned sweat, and that he’d never wash it away. Thus, it stank to high hell. Trying to escape, he did his best to try and rise up, only to once again slip on the red padded glove he knew all too well. The gear didn’t want him to leave. The gear wanted another player.
Andrew watched in horror as his thick winter parka and corduroy pants began to move on their own! The two red gloves grabbed his shoulders and held him down on the ground, while his clothes vacated his body. At this point, Andrew began screaming for help, albeit in vain as one of the gloves smothered his cries. The underwear being the very last piece of clothing that left his body, he lay on the ground, crying in the nude. It was then that he he heard this toneless voice echoing in his head.
“May be a bender right now, kid. But you’ll be a beauty after all is said and done.” He felt a hard, but warm object crawling up his legs. Andrew glanced to see Josiah’s two shin pads sliding up his legs and tightening to fit; squeezing his calves. His legs immediately were swept by a hot sensation, then nothing. They went completely numb! The gloves lifted his head once more to showcase his now hulking, hairy legs, covered in a cold sweat. Andrew let out a whiny cry, terrified of the sentient gear’s intentions. Josiah’s two dripping pairs of socks, his hockey socks and his black ankle socks, climbed onto his tight, thick legs and into place. Andrew could feel the loose socks tighten and stretch, watching his feet grow into them! He wriggled his toes, the wet fabric lubing his toes with Josiah’s rank sweat. The two skates slid themselves on, fitting snug and comfortably on Andrew’s now size 15 feet! Next came the browning jockstrap and cup, piss stained and stinking of ballsweat and cum. The sticky fabric stuck to his balls and cock, coating them in a light coat of Josiah’s grime. Slowly, but surely, he watched as a long, snaky uncut cock snuck out of his now bushy groin, erect and musky as if horny after a long game.
A tear rolled down Andrew’s cheek as he began to smell his lower half, emitting the stench of a thousand sweaty games. He could only sit as a bystander while the hockey pants secured themselves around his waist. His lower half stood up, seating his still rebellious upper half on the bench. Josiah’s thick, deafening gloves still silenced the horrified Andrew, and restrained his arms behind his back. The shoulderpads and chest protector rose above his head, lowering ever so slowly onto his torso. As they landed, they weighed down on his bony frame, before the cold sweat overtook them, and filled them with muscle and hair. He sat resolute, awaiting his fate, ready to accept his loss of power & control. Two elbowpads slipped into place, bulking his biceps, triceps and forearms and covering them in a thick coat of brown hair. Veins bulged out of his forearm and up his bicep, a sign of his new physical state. The two red gloves relinquished their control on his mouth & wrists and took their place on his hands. He felt the hot sweat seep into his fingers, the grime and lint of the gloves finding itself under his fingernails. He looked forward, fighting the gear to the last second, refusing to admit defeat.
The helmet sat at his feet, his body betraying him, the gloved hands picked it up and placed it onto his head, the mouthguard having found it’s way back onto the cage shoved it into his mouth, still sticky with Josiah’s spit. Andrew closed his eyes as he let the rank musk take him over, inhaling it deep into his lungs. He ran his thick, meaty hands over his body from within their gloved confinement, rubbing the sweat all over himself. Years of intelligence seemingly flowed out of his cock as it burst streams of hot, sticky cum into his cupped jock. He rubbed his crotch, loving the way the cum coated the already sticky fabric in his seed, loving the feeling of the slime sliding all over his cock.
The lights flipped on as the teammembers arrived for morning practice. Josiah walked to his locker and smiled, having expected the sight. He gently took his helmet off Drew and rustled his sweaty hair.
“Get some practice in early, eh Drew?” Josiah gripped his boyfriend’s face and landed a sloppy, wet smooch on his sweaty face. The teammates laughed and jeered as he slid his hands down Drew’s pants, into his sticky jock. Bringing the cum-covered fingers to his mouth, he suckled on Drew’s manjuices mixed with his own musky sweat. “Well, I’ll let you keep the gear, I had an extra pair at home. I know you needed a set. Anyway, get your practice jersey on. If you kick ass on the ice, I’ll let you eat out my sweaty ass afterward.” Drew mindlessly laughed, a hearty chuckle. The laugh of a dumb meatheaded Hockey Jock.
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