Vinnie yawned, and rolled over. The doorbell rang repeatedly, and there was loud knocking.
"Now what?" groaned Vinnie, as he got back out of bed. He grabbed some gray shorts and pulled them on over his jockstrap.
Ryan was thinking this is just how Horst and Carter greeted him every Saturday morning to begin their morning workout. Well, not this Saturday, he thought unhappily. He could feel Vinnie's softening junk flopping around inside him. His muscles were no longer stretched taut. He could see the door, hall, steps, and front door from where he stuck out over Vinnie's shorts' waistband.
He was surprised as Vinnie to see Horst and Carter standing there dressed for a workout.
"Hey, Horst, Carter?" Vinnie said sleepily.
"Hey, Vin-" said Horst, then noticing the jockstrap waistband, he waved at Vinnie's crotch, and asked, "How's it hanging, Ryan?"
Carter swatted him, and cajoled him, "How's it hanging? Seriously!"
"So what are you two doing here?" Vinnie asked with his arms crossed, and a frown on his face.
"Now, we don't want any trouble, Vin. You see, it's just every Saturday, rain or shine, we workout with Ryan. It's sort of a habit for the last four or five years. It's always 3 guys working out, and since Ryan, uh, is indisposed, we thought you might like to workout with us. You can wear Ryan, if you like. Might make it feel a bit more normal for him? Besides you could do with a workout, br- er, Vin!" said Horst.
Vinnie snorted. He shrugged. He now had two personal trainers at his beck and call, he might as well take them up on it. He thought maybe they were plotting someway to rescue Ryan, but he couldn't see how. He still couldn't see how he changed the doofus jock into a real jockstrap.
Hey! squeaked Ryan to himself. Horst and Carter couldn't hear him, and since yesterday Vinnie had tuned him out completely, but he thought Ryan had just gone silent, after all he is a jockstrap.
Vinnie thought it was kind of cool that he was actually able to use the team weight room at his school. Horst and Carter were pretty solicitous and helpful. He could feel his muscles growing. Since football season was over, and they didn't share their equipment with any of the other sports teams, they had the room to themselves. It was like their own private gym.
Ryan was slurping up Vinnie's sweat, and he thanks to Horst and Carter, Vinnie was sweating a lot. It was hell for Ryan, how could they do this to him. Nah. The idiots probably thought they were helping.
"Maybe after you change Ryan back, we can keep working out together?" Horst said.
Vinnie said candidly, "I'm not sure Ryan would be into that."
"So, change him into a jockstrap again. Only this time my size," Horst said with a wicked smile.
Ryan couldn't help but think of the same thing Horst was thinking. Ryan remembered how Horst treated his "lucky jockstrap". For six years, Horst had worn the same too-small jockstrap without washing it. It was cum stained, sweat stained, piss stained, and torn. Finally, after the last game, it fell apart. If Horst put him on, he would never take Ryan off. Or if he did, Ryan shuddered to think about how he might be altered after that abuse. Ryan shouted to the silence, "NO! Horst, that's sick!"
"Well, I suppose I could do with a regular workout schedule," admitted Vinnie.
"Good. Now another hour of cardio, and then we hit the sauna and Jacuzzi," Horst said.
Vinnie was sore and exhausted after the workout. A sauna and jacuzzi bath sounded great. Carter seemed very quiet, as they headed back to the locker room.
"Now, we stripdown to our jocks, and hit the sauna," said Horst with a grin.
"I dunno about-" Carter started to say.
Horst slapped Carter's belly knocking the air out of him.
"That's what we usually do with Ryan," said Horst grinning again.
Carter was silent.
Ryan was screaming at everyone and no one. Every Saturday workout followed by a jack-off party, beer and Viagra. The competition that Ryan usually won had to do with the number of loads each could blow into his jockstrap. He was Vinnie's jockstrap.
Vinnie nodded, "Yeah, whatever, I'm game."