Ty loaded the other Speedos into the industrial washing machine, then he added two cups of sanitizer. He turned the machine on. As the water filled he started whistling as he casually strolled over to a locked closet. He used his masterkey to open the door. Glanced around to make sure he was unseen and ducked in. He reached in his pocket. He unfurled the Speedo on to the top of the workbench where he repaired damaged athletic equipment. The Speedo was spread out face up next to a half dozen tennis rackets waiting to be restrung.
Chad was shouting, but Ty wasn't touching him, so Ty heard nothing. He stared at the pouch and shook his head.
"Damn, Coach really did a number on you. Can't make out any facial features to tell who you were. Prolly, Rico or Ryan, those two are always pissing coach off. Nah, cannot be Ryan, I just saw him this morning. It takes days wearing a guy to obliterate its face. So you must have been Rico," Ty concluded.
Ty proceeded to strip off his shoes and pants.
*Oh, gawd no! Ty, I thought you were going to help me? Naaagh!* Chad screamed as in one swift motion, Ty picked him up and pulled him on.
"Whoa! You're not Rico. What did golden boy Chad do to piss-off Sinclair? No, matter. You can tell me later. My little Tyler is rock hard and needs some relief. This may hurt you a little but you're just a Speedo now, so it doesn't really matter."
Ty started jerking off his boner into the tight new Speedo. While he was jerking off, Chad was constantly shouting unintelligible as Ty's cock gagged him. When Ty finally blew his load, Chad became silent. Ty checked his deflated pouch, and was happy to see it was bone dry. Ty dressed, and proceeded to the washing machine to empty the Speedos into the dryer.
"Hey, Coach, okay if I fold and stack the Speedos tomorrow? They're still in the dryer, and my bus leaves soon," Ty asked.
Chad was in a silent stupor. Coach Sinclair had Speedofied him. Then discarded him. Now he was the towel boy's underwear and super absorbent cum rag. At least Ty's cum was sweeter than coach's. Damn, why was he thinking that? Maybe if he could get Ty to explain to Sinclair that Chad only pretended to be broken...pretended? Damn, Sinclair, Chad had never felt more like he fit in than he did now. He was finally complete with a man inside him. Even if that man was the towel boy. Maybe he could help Ty become more of a man? Chad could be his personal trainer.