The Jock Strap - Part 3

Following his near miraculous workout, Kurt meandered to the school’s cafeteria for lunch. He felt surprisingly hungry, although given how much weight he just lifted, perhaps not that surprising.

Kurt’s school had a sort of all-day buffet available to students, which was incredibly convenient when classes ran over the usual lunch time. Today was the regular assortment of pizza, french fries, and doughy desserts, and Kurt loaded his tray up with as much food as it could carry and got an extra large soda at the fountain. He then ambled off to an empty table to begin his feast.

He knew he was hungry, but the way he scarfed down his meal was a shock, even to him. Nearly an entire pizza down and just finishing his fries, he let loose one of the loudest, most resonant belches he’d ever heard. All eyes in the cafeteria turned towards the source of the bellowing tone, and Kurt's face went beet red. He murmured a brief “sorry”, and then dove back into his tray once everyone’s heads had turned away.

After he finished he went to put his now empty tray away and paused. He was somehow still hungry, Kurt noticed. So he went back for a second round and refilled his soda along the way.

By the time Kurt got home he felt satisfyingly stuffed. He’d been ravenous when he went out to dinner with some friends and had ordered two entrees along with a pitcher of beer to wash it down. His friends were a little shocked at this and kept shooting pointed glances while he ate, but Kurt was so hungry he didn’t care.

Now, finally at home, he had the chance to kick back and relax after a long day. He went up to his room, closed the door, and popped open his belt. His distended stomach immediately blew open the button on his jeans, and he let out a contented sigh. Kurt shuffled forward to his desk, letting his jeans fall below his ankles and leaving him in nothing but a food-stained t-shirt and Eric’s cum-stained jockstrap.

Kurt was more than a little tipsy after his pitcher of booze, and had he been sober he might’ve noticed how the clipped straps were cutting into the meat of his ass more than when he’d woke up this morning, the safety pin straining just to stay fastened. He didn’t notice of course, and was instead intent on relaxing in the soft glow of his computer screen while he idly searched for porn, his nearly due math assignment totally forgotten.

Nor did he notice the soft layer of fat that had slowly crept over his middle throughout the day, obscuring his formerly washboard abs. Instead, his focus was on his monitor, where he’d just queued up a video of two truly massive, hairy dudes slamming one another on a sweat-stained sling.

In moments Kurt’s cock was tenting the crusty fabric of the jock strap he still wore. Briefly, he tugged at the mushroom head still encased in fabric, but soon became impatient and flipped his shaft into the open air. So consumed with what he was watching, Kurt also didn’t notice how his hand traveled ever so slightly further than it ever had before, his fingers spread just slightly further apart than the last time he gratified himself.

Just as soon as the sling-bound bear came all over his expansive, hairy belly on screen did Kurt let loose his own cream with a low moan, splattering jizz all over his keyboard, his own budding gut, and on the fabric of the well-worn jockstrap. Then he got up and collapsed on his bed where he fell asleep almost immediately upon his head hitting the pillow.

The next morning the sun peaked through Kurt’s bedroom window and struck him in the face as he slept. He’d forgotten to close his blinds the night before, and that had left him vulnerable to the sun’s terrible glare. He groggily reached for his phone to check the time and realized it was 10 minutes before his alarm was set to go off.

Disabling the alarm, he brought himself to his feet and realized he was still wearing the same clothes from the night before. He tossed the t-shirt into the laundry and tried to take off the jock strap, but found that it was extremely hard to get his fingers around the straps. The safety pin had clipped back the straps so they were cutting into the skin of his thighs almost painfully.

He reached behind himself to undo the pin and immediately felt relief as it was released, the straps having left angry red lines on his legs and buttocks. It seemed odd to Kurt that he had ever needed the pin in the first place, but dismissed the momentary concern to get on with his morning.

Kurt didn’t have classes this morning, and his usual routine was to go for a morning jog before having a healthy breakfast. He put on some shorts and found them to be oddly uncomfortable - the fabric ended well above his knees, and seemed to show off his beefy thighs more than he would have liked. The same happened as he donned a clean t-shirt - the fabric barely concealed his torso, leaving a sliver of flesh at the bottom peeking out. He chalked it up to laundry shrinkage and went downstairs to put on his shoes and get running.

Things kept feeling strange for Kurt as he got underway. Everything was tight and would rub against his body as he ran. He was also getting winded way earlier than he should be, having only been jogging for five minutes. After another few minutes he stopped, gasping for breath a few blocks from his house. This alarmed him more than his shrinking laundry ever could, and he walked back home wondering why his morning felt so strange.

As soon as he got home he stomped back to his room and peeled off clothing that was drenched in sweat despite the fact it was a cool morning and he hadn’t run that long. He then lumbered to the bathroom to wash the gunk he’d accumulated during his jog but forgot to take off the jock strap as he entered the tub.

Again he seemed to gloss over meatier arms and thicker thighs as he scrubbed, eyes oblivious to the mound of fat that had appeared on his middle in less than a day. The jock strap was fitting him better than ever, the pouch filling out far better than it had the day before. As he brought soap to every new inch of his body it was as though he couldn’t see that he was still wearing the now yellow-ish undergarments. Kurt simply ran the soap over them as though they were a part of him.

He stepped out of the shower and caught his reflection in the mirror. It looked like he had a week’s worth of stubble when he’d just shaved a few days ago. Practice was later this afternoon - he’d have to shave it off or coach would throw a fit.

Still, it didn’t seem too bad yet. Maybe he could get away with it for one more day.

He walked back to his bedroom still toweling himself off when he noticed he’d just gotten an email. It was from Erick, and the subject line read “My Jockstrap”.

Kurt froze, his towel slipping to the floor leaving him in nothing but the offending jockstrap. He then went over and clicked open. The body was nothing but a place and a time on campus, and an order to meet there.

He gulped, packed his bags, dressed in clothes that all felt way too small, and made his way to campus.