Chad had a tiny pool of sweat inside him when Matt finally pulled him out. Matt set the cup on his father's kitchen counter. There was a note. Matt read it allowed angrily.
"Hey, Matt, hope you had a good bike ride. I got called out of town for work. Be back Sunday afternoon. Meals in fridge. We'll spend quality time next weekend. Love, Pops."
Matt crumpled the note, then took a platic wrapped plate from the refrigerator, and put it in the microwave. While the machine hummed, Matt took a marking pen and started writing on the former quarterback.
"MATT'S JOCK" on the front, then he held Chad up to a shiny toaster, so he could read it. Then inside he wrote something else. He yawned. Bing. Food ready, he ate his dinner.
After cleaning up after dinner, Matt put the cup on the kitchen floor.
"Guess, Chad, you and I will be spending quality time together this weekend. Just remember, you are now my athletic cup. I have to will you to keep you human. You like being human, you do as you're told. No speaking without permission. Don't even think of getting away or hurting me. Just do what you are told, and reply only when I ask you to speak, and you will be okay."
Chad gasped. He was naked on his back on Matt's kitchen floor. He was breathing. He silently stood. He saw his reflection in the window glass. "MATT'S JOCK" was tattooed on his chest. He turned and cocked his head to read what was tattooed to his other side. He read, "FUCK IT!" Then there was an arrow pointing at his butt hole.
"Seriously?" Chad said.
Plunk. The plastic cup dropped to the kitchen floor. Matt picked it up.
"Maybe you weren't listening?" Matt repeated his instructions. Then he put the cup facing down on the floor. "Okay, we'll try again. Now stay on the floor."
Chad was lying face down on the floor.
"You told me you start your exercise regimen with push-ups. So why don't you do them now. You may count off each pushup as you complete it. But don't say anything else."
Chad started doing pushups naked.
"One," he held it then went down again, and up, "Two." He repeated it. Sometimes he did 25, 50 or 100, but with Matt watching he kept going. He would do 200 or 250. After 5 or 6, though Chad found that pressing his big floppy dick between his body and the tile was like jerking off. He was sporting wood. After 40, he was dripping precum, and leaving smudges on Matt's clean floor.
"50," pause, "51..."
By 75, Chad had left a shiny white creamy puddle on the tile. By 100, he was hard again.
Matt made popcorn, and ate it while he sat on the kitchen counter and watched Chad's muscled body glisten with sweat.
Chad would blow 3 loads before he stopped after counting off, "250".
He lay on the floor.
"Now what?" Crunch, asked Matt.
"Usually, I rest for 10-20 minutes. Hydrate. Then do crunches."
"Okay, stay there and rest. I'll get you some Gatorade." Crunch.
Chad could hear the refrigerator open and close. He heard liquid pouring. Suddenly, a metal dog dish filled with Gatorade was set by his head.
"Drink up," Matt said, as Chad's hands reached for the dog bowl, Matt added, "No hands, boy."
Chad suppressed a rude comment. He was too thirsty. He started to lap up the Gatorade from the bowl. Matt grinned.
"Okay, crunches now."
Chad complied counting off each one as the smear of cum on the floor dried next to him. He paused longer at 100.
"Aren't you going to do 250?" Matt taunted.
Chad continued. Matt refilled Chad's dog bowl with Gatorade. Chad dropped to all fours, lapped it all up. Then he looked up at Matt.
"Now what do you do?"
"Weights and cardio machines alternately," Chad looked around the kitchen and shrugged.
"Follow me," Matt said.
Chad was tempted to tackle Matt, but he didn't. Maybe later, if the opportunity presented itself.
Matt led him to an elaborate home gym.
Chad stood.
Matt said, "Continue your workout."
Chad did. He counted off reps, and went through his daily circuit training. He was exhausted dripping with sweat 4 hours later, as he lay on the weight bench breathing hard. He pretty much ignored Matt who used some of the equipment left and returned several times.
When he finally returned, Matt was wearing only a towel around his waist, and drinking a bottle of Gatorade.
"Join me in the sauna," he ordered. It wasn't an invitation.
Chad followed silently. There was an open bottle of Gatorade on the bench.
"Rehydrate," Matt ordered.
Chad took a healthy gulp.
He smacked his lips. It tasted chalky. Matt spiked it. Chad shrugged, and took another swig. He had started dripping sweat a few minutes after entering the sauna.
Matt unfurled his towel. He was cock was half hard and clad in a ribbed condom. Chad's eyes narrowed. No way was that going to happen, he thought. After seeing the tattoo on his back he was expecting this. He opened his mouth, but instead of speaking, he yawned loudly. His narrowed eyes wouldn't open. The lids were so heavy.
Thud was the only thing Chad remembered when he woke up. He couldn't move. He was a cup again. Now tucked back in the jockstrap pocket, and worn by sleeping Matt.
Coach had told the team to sleep in their jocks. Chad was pissed. He had done everything Matt asked. Still he didn't want to spend the rest of the school year as Matt's cup 24/7. Coach had said after the four day weekend that the team only had to wear their jocks during practice and games. Doing quick math in his head, Chad figured he could be human 16-20 hours a day.