This cannot be right, your host memory can't recall any recent bets, but then again he frequently seems to have made bets.
I listen as the young man answers.
"Right, McGillicuddy, you're going to let me out of giving you a blow job, and then you'll tell everyone I welshed on the bet. So, I'm paying up, and you can't tell anybody."
"But you said that I lost? The loser gets a blow job?"
"Oh, I know you were drinking, but when Boomer bet you that he would score higher on the Graduate Entrance Exams than you. I placed a side bet with you. The wager was to be the loser's slave for a week. I thought I was being clever, and I bet you that if you won that bet, you'd give you a blow job but if you lost, you'd get one from me. And you took the bet. I didn't know Boomer was so smart, then again his graduate exam was in Physical Education, and yours was in Relative Temporal Causality Theory. So strip naked, or do you want me to undress you?"
A free blow job, well Ogre and Roger will keep in the box a bit longer. I let the big blond remove my outer robe, and unbutton my shirt. I recall my host's memory that his name is Justin Thyme, or as he is commonly known, Justy. The part about being Boomer's slave is disconcerting, but as soon as I have my hands on Roger the jockstrap. I--feel a cold breeze on my butt cheeks. Thumbs are slipping under my waistband. Strip naked? What was I thinking? I grab hold of the jockstrap, my former body. Justy is pulling violently. I'm afraid he'll literally rip me off.
"Justy, stop. Leave my jockstrap alone!"
"No way, Johnny boy!" I hear fabric ripping.
"Johnny boy?" My body's name is Erin McGillicuddy. I look down and see the edge of a jockstrap peeking out of Justy's boxers. Roger!!!