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Wrestling with Change Chapter 1

by outkast1728

Wrestling with Change Chapter 1

Wrestling with Change

Chapter 1 – Uniform Appearance

Ricky’s bad mood had now stretched out to last a month. He couldn’t be any more pissed off about his current situation, though most others would have traded spots with him in a heartbeat. Young, handsome, smart, and athletic he seemed to have it all. To Ricky though it all meant nothing, ever since he moved to a new city and a new school he felt like he was on the outside looking in. Instead of being the senior captain of his own wrestling team with all of his lifelong friends, he was on a team of strangers and had to prove himself all over again.
At seventeen, he had been a popular honor roll student and two time state champion back home. His thick brown hair and piercing blue eyes accentuated his six-foot muscular frame and could have won him any girl in school if that had interested him. Here, for the Westfield Wolves, he was just the new kid. Most of the guys on his new team were nice enough but all they knew was that he had taken a spot away from one of their friends (though that was really the coach’s decision). Hell, even the school colors felt wrong to him.
In an effort to cheer him up, his dad gave him some cash to go out to the mall and get a new pair of wrestling shoes that he had needed for quite a while. Ricky knew it was a waste of time, since the shoe stores never carried wrestling shoes that were any good, but he decided to go anyway, at least to be out of the house for a while. He threw on an old pair of jeans and one of the new red and blue shirts that had ‘Westfield Wrestling’ written across the front and drove to the large nearby mall.
Unfortunately it didn’t help to cheer him up anyway. The Saturday crowd was oppressive and merely made him feel that much more alone. Also, just as he had suspected, the mall contained nothing of interest, but the odd thing was that all while he was trying on shoes it felt as though he was being watched. He knew the glass domes in the ceiling were keeping an eye out for potential shoplifters, but this feeling was much more intense and it made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
He took off the last pair of shoes he was trying out and set them on the bench, while he tied the laces on his own sneakers he “accidentally” knocked them to floor behind himself. He casually turned to pick them up and spotted a man in a dark suit near the far wall. His dark sunglasses denied him the opportunity to see his eyes but he never moved from facing towards him. Ricky turned back around half expecting to see Will Smith run past chasing an alien. In the end he decided to pay it no attention and, after handing the shoebox back to the not-so-helpful salesman, left to go get something to eat in the food court.
A slice of pizza and a large coke later he felt a little bit better. He still missed all of his friends back home but at least there was more to do in a bigger city than the small town he had come from. Ricky was tossing his trash from lunch when he got that weird feeling on the back of his neck again. He looked around and there, several tables away, was the same guy in the black suit looking right at him. This was getting too weird. Leaving the food court he picked up the pace a bit and caught one of the glass elevators up to the third floor. Down below he spotted the guy again as he scanned the crowd.
Ricky wasn’t the paranoid type but this situation had him on his toes. For the next hour or so, he wandered between the shops occasionally catching a glimpse of the stranger; he ended up making a game off it, ducking in between clothing racks or other shoppers. He thought he had thoroughly lost the guy and not realizing he was making a classic mistake, decided he had to use the restroom. Just as he finished washing his hands he looked up into the mirror and the guy was standing right behind him.
“Jesus!’ he jumped, startled and accidentally splashing water down the front of his t-shirt. “Ok man what the fuck is your problem?!”
The guy didn’t even flinch when Ricky yelled at him, “Relax kid. I’m just here to take care of some business.”
He reached down into a black duffle bag and Ricky recoiled slightly, fearing a weapon. Instead the stranger pulled out a shirt and tossed to him. Ricky caught it, now more confused than ever, and unfolded it. The heavyweight cotton was light blue with wide swaths of red down the sides and was screened with an intricate design baring the inscription ‘Westfield Wolves Wrestling.’
“What the hell is this?” Ricky asked harshly.
“It’s a t-shirt, stupid. It’s just a sample I had made up but it looks like you could use it,” the guy added, pointing at the damp tee Ricky was wearing, “but if you don’t want it.”
“No, I guess I can use it,” he shrugged and started pulling off the wet shirt. He was surprised how well the new one fit, a nice cut to show off his broad muscular chest and just tight enough to cling around his biceps without restricting motion.
“So what’s all this about then, why have you been following me around all afternoon?”
“Well, my name’s Jack Harris and I’m a new sales rep for Gene-Pool Sportswear, you ever hear of them?”
“Yeah I think so.”
The guy finally took of his dark sunglasses and now that Ricky could see his whole face he thought the guy didn’t look much older than him, probably barely out of college. He had a strong square jaw and thick dark hair cut in a short but stylish crew cut. Most interestingly though he noticed the dark green eyes this guy had, the color was really quite vibrant like nothing Ricky had ever seen before.
“Gene-Pool has been looking to get into the uniform supply market,” he continued. “So far though, I haven’t had much luck securing any new clients. I’ve tried getting in touch with your coach but I can’t seem to get my foot in the door with him and he doesn’t return my phone calls.”
“Yeah, well Coach Bartlet has been at the school since the Stone Age so I’m not surprised he’s so stuck in his ways.” Ricky didn’t have too high an opinion of his new coach. “But what’s all this got to do with stalking me.”
Jack laughed, “I spotted your shirt in the shoe store and thought I could get you to take some of my samples to him. Of course you seemed to freak out a bit when you saw me so after that I was just fucking with you, sorry.”
Ricky actually started to laugh after a moment’s thought about it, “I probably did overreact a little. You mind if we continue this discussion outside of the men’s room? Don’t need some security guard walking in here and getting any funny ideas about us.”
Back out on the concourse they sat down at a bench before continuing, “So what’s your name anyway?” Jack asked.
“Ricky Stetson.”
“Oh right, the transfer, state champ back east right? I read about you in the paper when they previewed the wrestling season.”
“Yup that’s me. So what kind of samples did you have in mind anyway?”
Jack ran his hand over his chin and thought about it for a moment, this might work out better than the company had planned. “I’ll tell you what; I saw you were looking at shoes back there right? What size do you wear?”
“Eleven,” Ricky answered simply.
“Ok and you’re in the 171 weight class.” He paused a moment as he worked something out in his head. “Meet me here tomorrow, I’ll give you a pair of our best shoes and a new practice singlet, then just wear them at practice. That ought to get the coach’s attention.”
Ricky only thought about it for a moment, the team really could use new gear. The current singlets were blue with red legs and a big ‘W’ on the chest that made them look like bad superman knock-offs. Besides if the shirt he was now wearing was any indication of the quality the shoes and stuff would be first rate, not to mention his would be free.
“Sure, sounds good. I can be back here around one tomorrow afternoon.”
“Great!” He stood up and brushed himself off before taking Ricky’s hand and shaking it vigorously. “I think your team will love the kind of image Gene-Pool can create for you. I’ll meet you here tomorrow but in the mean time if you need anything at all, just call me at this number and I’ll take care of it for you.” He handed over his business card.
Smiling politely, Ricky stuffed the card in his pocket. This guy sure seemed excited about a possible sale, must be trying to meet a quota. “Ok, well thanks for the shirt, I’ll see you later.” Maybe this would get him on the team’s good side, getting them hooked up with some new uniforms and maybe a corporate sponsor wouldn’t hurt…

“He’s the hairy-handed gent who ran amuck in Kent. Lately he’s been overheard in Mayfair. Better stay away from him, he’ll rip your lungs out, Jim. Still I’d like to meet his tailor.” He caught just the one verse of the old Warren Zevon song blaring from the classic rock station on his alarm clock before viciously slapping the top of the radio to shut it up. When he looked at the time, the digits shifting in slow motion to 12:35 jarred him fully awake as he realized he had fallen victim to the snooze button once again.
Now he would have to rush to get ready if he was going to make it back to the mall by one. Ricky didn’t even realize he was putting on the same wrinkled clothes he had worn the day before, including the new wrestling t-shirt the sales rep had given him. Not even stopping in the bathroom to comb his hair, he raced down the stairs, pausing just long enough to beg his Dad for the use of the truck. Fortunately, Sunday for his dad was the typical go nowhere do nothing type of day so the keys to the Ford were quickly in hand. If he hadn’t run up against some slow moving church traffic he might have made it on time, but as it was he pulled into the mall lot a little over 15 minutes late. He raced to find a spot, then quickly jumped out and sprinted for the entrance.
Ricky arrived just in time, too. Just as he pulled the door open he ran smack into Jack who, by the looks of things, was ready to leave.
“Well Mr. Stetson, I was just about to give up on you. I thought maybe you had changed your mind about our deal.”
The young wrestler shook his head, trying to catch his breath a bit, “No way man, I still want to… just overslept is all. I’m not used to having to get up on Sundays.”
Jack smiled back, “That’s ok, I suppose I can forgive you for that. Besides, I really want to land this account. So what do you say we take a look at what I’ve brought for you?” He patted a large duffle bag that was slung across his shoulder.
They walked back into the mall together until they found a pair of empty seats in a small sitting area where they could speak privately. Ricky noticed how Jack was dressed much more casually today with just khakis and a polo shirt on, and then became painfully aware of his unkempt appearance, bed-head and all.
“I guess you liked the new shirt enough to wear it again today, eh Ricky?” Jack asked smirking a bit.
He just smiled back sheepishly, “What can I say, it’s a nice shirt, there are hardly any wrinkles.”
“Fair enough, well here you go. Tell me what you think of these.” Jack slid the bag across the floor between them.
Ricky noticed that even the duffle bag was customized for the team. It was a lighter shade of blue, sky blue probably, with red piping around the edges. The left side proclaimed ‘Westfield Wrestling,’ while on the right ‘Wolves’ was written in stylized letters. He unzipped it carefully and started to pull out the contents for examination.
First up was a set of grey sweats. The pair of pants and sweatshirt were made of thick cotton and heavy stitching, and the inside was incredibly soft to the touch. Both had the typical slogan found on almost every pair of sweats Ricky had ever seen ‘Property of Westfield Wrestling.’
“Now those are available in almost any color your coach might want, I just had a grey pair screened up real quick as a demo. The warm-ups I had customized a while ago.”
The nylon jacket and pants found next inside the duffle looked even better than the sweats. Like the shirt Ricky was wearing, the main body was light blue but two diagonal slashes of red cut across the chest of the jacket from the left shoulder down to the opposite waist where they converged and continued down the right leg of the pants as one stripe. The outer shell of nylon was very smooth and supple while the inner lining was softer polyester. Ricky stood up and tried the jacket on and found that it fit perfectly, large enough that it could be worn over a sweater but not so big as to produce large folds of excess fabric.
“Man I hope coach goes for these, the ones we have now are probably more than five years old.” Ricky thought aloud as he took the jacket off, folded it neatly, and setting it aside with the pants.
“If you like that,” Jack smiled as he leaned over and reached into the bag, “here, check out the singlet.”
The excitement seemed to be getting the better of the sales rep as he pulled out the uniform and handed it over. The slick fabric slipped across Ricky’s fingers as he unfolded it and held it up. The new singlet was way better than he could have hoped for, at least compared to their current team issue. The garment was well constructed just like the rest of the gear, with colors that matched perfectly. The main body, both front and back, was again done up in the same light blue that Ricky was really starting to like. Wide swaths of red angled down and out from the armpits and covered the side panels down to the legs. Across the chest ‘wolves’ was spelled out in a modern red font, and ‘Westfield’ was written vertically down the back from the left shoulder to about the waist in the same style. Black trim topped it off around the leg openings and shoulder straps.
Ricky could feel a thrill stir in the pit of his stomach and suddenly found himself wishing they had done this somewhere more private so that he could try the new singlet on right now. The lycra material was thinner compared to most others he had worn in the past but it seemed sturdier and stronger somehow. It had a lot of stretch to it and would definitely conform to his body rather well. As he turned it over in his hands he noticed that it appeared to be seamless, which was fine with him since most of the time the seams tended to chafe a bit.
“Whoa! This is so sweet; the other guys are gonna flip when they see this. If coach does order from you, how quick can the rest of the team get these?”
“That’s easy, production could gear up in no time and turnaround would be about 48 hours. Since Gene-Pool is so anxious to land some of these team accounts, if you can help me convince your coach, I can probably offer everything at up to fifty percent off.”
Ricky could hardly keep his eyes off the new garment in his hands. Instinctively he brought it to his nose and sniffed it; even the smell of new spandex was intoxicating. He just knew the coach had to get these; they looked too good to pass up at any price. Then he remembered he had one more freebie to check out. He carefully folded the other items and placed them back in the bag before unzipping the separate shoe compartment. The wrestling shoes he pulled out looked like nothing he had ever seen before. The main red body of the shoes seemed to be a thicker variety of the lycra material that the singlet was made of. Thin flexible soles of black rubber covered the bottoms and arched upward over the toes in the front. Instead of laces though, the shoes had two flexible buckles, a silver one across the top of the foot and a brown one with the Westfield ‘W’ above the ankle.
“What do you think of those, huh?” Jack positively beamed, he was clearly proud of the company’s product.
“Well they look interesting,” Ricky shrugged, not quite sure what to make of them. “How are you supposed to put them on?”
“Here, let me.” Jack grinned.
He reached over and took the shoes and then took hold of Ricky’s right leg, lifting it and setting his foot in his lap. He pulled off the sneaker Ricky was wearing and slipped off the sock before he picked up one of the wrestling shoes. Ricky smirked as he wiggled his toes, while Jack held up his long athletic foot.
“These are made from the same adaptable material as the singlet. The buckles and the shoe itself will stretch and conform to the shape of your foot.”
The shoe slipped on easily, surprising Ricky with how well it fit. He wiggled his foot a bit and the shoe conformed to his every move. Standing up he walked around the area, again finding that the fit stayed snug even without the laces.
“Whoa, this is pretty cool. So these don’t come off in the middle of a match do they?”
“Not in any of the tests we’ve run, to take it off squeeze the silver buckle with one hand and pull down on the heel with the other.”
Ricky sat down and did as he was instructed and found that shoe came off as easily as it went on. He put his own shoe back on and slipped the new ones back into the bag. He sat back and sighed, quite literally overwhelmed. He could never have afforded shoes this nice on his own, plus the free uniforms that where his to keep, they were all better than he could have hoped for. But he had to ask.
“Jack, are you sure you can just give all this stuff away, I mean I feel like I should pay you something for this”
“Don’t worry about it, the company can afford it. Besides, if I can get a whole team outfitted with Gene-pool, that’ll be reward enough, trust me”
“Ok, well, I’ll break these out at practice tomorrow and see what everybody thinks. I’m sure the guys will all go for it, they complain about the old shit enough. Is there anything you want me to give to Coach Bartlet?”
Jack reached into his briefcase and pulled out a presentation folder and a promotional DVD, “Just have him look this stuff over then he can give me a call and we can talk pricing.”
Ricky placed the materials in the bag along with the clothes. As he stood he shook Jack’s hand firmly and smiled. “Thanks a ton man, I can’t tell you how awesome this is.”
“No problem. At the very least I hope you’ll like what our gear can do for you. Everything has a lifetime guarantee too, so if you have any problems at all just give me a call.”
Jack was almost smirking now and Ricky had an odd feeling there was something he wasn’t telling him. In the end he just shook it off though. They both shook hands again and parted. Ricky had the fight the urge to run to the parking lot, he wanted to get home and try the whole outfit on so badly. The entire drive home he kept glancing over at the bag on the seat next to him. He pulled into his driveway and barely had the engine off before he jumped from the truck and ran inside, breezing past his dad on the couch we’re he’d fallen asleep watching football.
Moments later he was in his room, the door shut and the shades drawn as he laid out the new clothes on his bed. That he had just been given all of this new gear for free was still hard to believe. The sheen of the singlet reflected in his eyes, nearly sparkling under the dim light of his desk lamp. Ricky kicked off his shoes then stripped off the new t-shirt as well as his blue jeans. He stood there for a moment in nothing but his black CK briefs and after a second thought those were gone as well. He held up the singlet again breathing in deeply, surprised at how much he enjoyed the scent of the new material. He stepped into it and slowly pulled it up, feeling it slide over his skin. He snugged it into place, the legs solidly gripping his thighs, pulling his arms through the shoulder straps, his chest standing out proudly under the red lettering and field of blue. He reached a hand down inside and adjusted his package a bit, giving it just the right amount of comfort and bulge before standing back to admire himself in the mirror.
He had to admit the sight of himself in the uniform was incredible. He twisted about and the thin material simply shifted with him, hugging every line of his body. At first he was a little concerned about how visible the outline of his thick cock and heavy set of balls was, but that thought slowly drifted from his mind as he strutted and posed in front of the mirror. Ricky decided he wanted to give the new threads a complete test so he pulled on the nylon warm-up pants and jacket. He found his running shoes in the far corner of the room and slipped them on before trotting down the stairs and back out into the bright autumn sunshine.
After starting off with a slow jog before stopping to stretch a bit in the park at the end of the street, Ricky was thrilled at how great the warm-up suit and the singlet underneath felt. It was as if the new garments were made just for him, they conformed to every movement while feeling so light it was like wearing nothing at all. Feeling energized, he picked up the pace to an all out run. He was never very fond of running laps after practice but out here in the cool crisp air he felt like he could go on forever. In moments he was perspiring heavily, but the high tech fabrics seemed to dissipate it almost immediately. He ran for nearly an hour before he finally stopped on his front porch, chest heaving as he panted to catch his breath.
Remarkably, even though he was exhausted he still felt cool and comfortable in the uniform. Usually after getting all sweaty in a match or practice he couldn’t wait to strip of his singlet. Now, however, he felt so good he didn’t feel like taking it off at all. He trotted up the stairs, his dad calling up after him reminding him dinner was in a half an hour. Once in his bedroom he kicked off his shoes and removed the warm-ups, at first he was just going to leave the singlet on but eventually decided he could really use a shower. He reluctantly pulled the spandex down, peeling it of his skin. He laid the clothes back out on his bed then walked to his bathroom to clean up. All during his shower, he could feel his skin tingle and he kept glancing back towards his room where the special garment waited for him.
Fully scrubbed down and dried off Ricky now stood in front of his dresser. He was just about to pull out a pair of underwear and some shorts but stopped himself. He walked back over to his bed, the cool breeze from the window playing across his bare skin. He picked up the stretchy blue and red singlet and held it in his hands. His sweat had almost completely dried away, but the fabric still felt warm. He held it up against his nose and breathed in its scent. He could just barely detect the smell of his perspiration over the odd smell of new spandex. Ricky sniffed at it again, and again, realizing how much he liked the smell. Liked it enough that his cock had slowly started to stand at attention without him taking notice.
His pulse raced when he finally looked down and took note of his erect state. A strange smile crossed his lips as Ricky suddenly decided he wanted to be in the singlet again. He bent over and slipped his legs in and brought it up to his hips. A slight moan echoed in his ears as he pulled on the spandex and felt it slide across his hard dick, wrapping around it and caressing it as he pulled the uniform back into place. He stood before the mirror again this time admiring the proud wood that was held fast against his stomach. He stroked himself a few times through the thin material and shuddered, barely stopping himself from getting too carried away. As it was, a small wet dab appeared in the fabric by the head of his prick. He tore himself away from his building desires and found a longer pair of shorts and a t-shirt to wear over the singlet before heading down to dinner. All the while thinking how great this new gear would be at practice tomorrow.


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