Ryan can only lay between Vinnie and the bed, while Vinnie happily snores, and absorb cum into his cotton body. He tries to shout that he isn't a jockstrap to no affect. He soons reaches sensoury overload from the salty sticky liquid, and zones out.
Some time later he feels movement, and feels dry cum crackling off of him. Vinnie is finally getting up, and Ryan is further horrified when he is peeled off and tossed into a basket of dirty clothing. Ryan can only watch as Vinnie picks up the basket and walks whistling through the house.
"Turn me back you bastard! I'm not a jock strap!", Ryan again tries to yell at Vinnie, who fails to notice.
Ryan's perspective changes when Vinnie walks into a room and then begins to tilt the basket. Ryan can only watch, and wiggle minimally, as he falls into an enrormous looking washing machine. "Hmmm...its it hot for whites, or colors," he can hear Vinnie mumble. "Oh, well, no biggie..." Ryan can smell flowery detergent and then the washing machine starts up.
Spinning around in warm soapy water is more pleasant than Ryan would have believed. Although he finds himself missing the salty taste that had been invading his senses for hours. Now he is lulled asleep by the gentle water and clothing churning around him. He fails to wake up until after he, and the rest of the clothing, have been moved to the dryer. He is feeling much cleaner when he is pulled out of dryer and droped into another clothes basket.