Matt didn't get to the bridge in time. It was closed for construction work. Chad heard Matt ask, and the workman explain that he couldn't cut through the construction because the drawbridge was open on the other side. Matt cursed softly. Then Chad felt the bicycle turning, and Matt began to bicycle frantically.
Chad stopped ranting, and started to get comfortable at some point during the bumpy sweaty ride to Matt's dad's house. He had even gotten used to Matt's own personal stench. He didn't even notice it anymore. He wasn't exactly loving it, but being Matt's athletic cup for a few days was sort of a vacation.
Since his Freshman year, Chad had been on 24/7. He played hard, worked hard, studied hard, but he never really just chilled for a couple of days straight. This was his chance to just chill. No buds, no phones, no family, nobody intruding telling him what to do. For the first time, he could really be alone with hid thoughts. He just relaxed.
Chad was so zoned out, he wasn't aware that there had been a sudden downpour as Matt pedaled, that Matt blew a bicycle tire, and had to walk in the rain, or that Matt had finally reached his destination.
Matt rang the bell. No answer. He used his code to open the door. Set his bicycle in the mud room, and stripped out of his wet and muddy clothes. Matt stuck his fingers in the jockstrap waistband, but stopped. He remembered the coach's instructions.
Matt turned on the lights, he saw the envelope on the dining room table with his name on it. He walked over, picked it up, opened it, it read as expected:
"Hey Champ!
Hope you had a good week at school. I was looking forward to spending-" it was the same old bullshit. He had to work. Matt had full run of the house, and daddy's $500 limit credit card to play with.
Chad only became aware of his surroundings again as Matt's stench began to fade. Chad focused. He was on some sort of workbench locked in a vise. He could hear a shower in the background. A hot light beat down on him.
Matt appeared wrapped in a towel. He was holding a marking pen.
"Hey, Chad, you're prolly oblibious- obillyous- no, Oblivious to what I's sayin' " Matt's breath reeked of alcohol, he must have raided daddy's liquor cabinet. He continued, "but if I'm going to have magnificent guy for an athletic cup supporter, the cup should look the part. So I'm gonna airbrush you. See dad's a graphic artist. He's got all these pens and paints, and I'm gonna use them to dress up my boring beige cup. Now first the design then fill it in with paint."
He spent an hour drawing, erasing, drawing and erasing all over Chad's body. Then he took off the towel, saying, "Dad would be pissed if i get paint on his guest towels."
Then naked Matt started painting. The airbrush blasted the paint into Chad. It fell like getting sprayed with a fire hose with short hard blasts. There were breaks while Matt worked on his 3rd 24 oz beer. Chad could only stare jealously at his giant male owner, and remember when he had muscles and a cock and balls and body hair. Alternately, Chad would wish Matt would put him back in the jockstrap pouch and wear him. Damn Matt, Chad missed his warm funky smelling junk inside him.
At last McElroy was satisfied with his work. He belched, and smiled. He walked off, and returned with a can of spray lacquer to protect the paint job. Then he lowered the hot lamp over Chad to bake the lacquer dry. Chad could feel the coating hardening into shell on his body.
Matt yawned. Wandered off with the beer. Then Chad heard snoring. Chad was ranting again. This wasn't a break. It was hell.