October Caption Challenge (17/31)
Not having a gym was rough for the guys on the block, but with the quarantine stretching out longer and longer, it was looking like they wouldn’t be able to get back there anytime soon, and when they could, there would probably be so many restrictions it wouldn’t even be worth it. In the end, a savior came from a surprising place–old Mr. Wilcox at the end of the road starting letting all of the jocks know that he had an old gym in his basement. It wasn’t surprising, really–he was in his 60’s but still in good shape. He told the young men they could come over and use it whenever they wanted, but only on their own.
But there were other odd requirements as well. Mr. Wilcox told them all that they couldn’t wear their own clothes–too much risk of infection. They would have to shower when they arrived, they would put on their gym uniform, work out, shower, and then leave. There was also always this weird new age hippy music playing, but hey, a free gym was a free gym.
The music put them all in a really focused headspace–their workouts would zoom by, and they were all making great progress. None of them objected when Mr, Wilcox started making changes to each of their gym uniforms.
Mark found his gym shorts and shirt replaced with a rubber singlet one day, but Mr. Wilcox told him it would be easier to keep sterile, so he was happy to put it on. Much to his surprise, he found the sensation of rubber against his skin incredibly erotic–but when he asked Mr. Wilcox if he could take it home with him, he said no. But a few weeks later, he got an upgrade, a full body latex suit, complete with a gas mask, even better to keep everyone safe. He worked out for hours in it, and never ended up going home–the gimp was stored in his cage where he belongs instead–after all, he didn’t want to take off his new skin, did he?
Kent arrived one morning for his workout, and found that the only thing Mr, Wilcox had for him to wear, other than socks and shoes, was a diaper. He balked, of course, but Mr. Wilcox had noticed him using his restroom the other day, and that just wasn’t sanitary. Better to keep his messes to himself. He told himself he wouldn’t use it, but he zoned out so much he pissed into it, and a few days later, he started shitting himself as well. It wasn’t long before he had a few accidents at home as well, and he had to ask Daddy for a supply of diapers for himself. He moved in too before long, though his exercises are more focused these days on opening up his dirty baby hole, and getting rid of that gag reflex so Daddy can fuck baby’s throat easier.
Bud got the same gear, day in and day out, and Mr. Wilcox never seemed to wash it. When he asked about it, he said that it was Bud’s filth, so he could wash it if he wanted–but Bud always forgot to take the clothes home with him. In fact, he stopped showering as well, and stopped doing laundry at home, the entire house filled with his sweaty musk, and more and more the smell of cum, since he kept masturbating all over himself. He’s Mr. Wilcox’s filthy pig, and when he’s done with his workout, he usually gets fucked by Master’s cock while he huffs on baby’s full diaper, already excited for tomorrow’s workout to come.
Bracken's Corner 