Jim Goes to College

"Oh, OK," I replied. I didn't have the heart to tell him what was really involved in the studies. And I especially didn't want to tell him what HSDP stood for. I figured he'd find out soon enough what that was all about. I stood up and pulled on my T-shirt. I looked over at him and saw that he had now pulled off his briefs and was standing nude in front of me. For a brief moment, I looked at his body. He was young, like me - it probably hadn't been long since his 18th birthday. His body was muscular and fit, but he still looked boyish, without a lot of body hair. His pubic hair seemed like it had recently been neatly trimmed, with most of the hair around his balls and cock being trimmed completely off. Without a lot of hair, it was easy to see his low-hanging balls, and the above-average length of his circumcised penis. As I looked at him, I imagined him standing spread-eagle before Beth and Ashley as they took photos of him and measured him. I imagined one of them holding his flaccid penis and carefully measuring it before moving on to his testicles. And then there was HSDP! This poor boy had no idea what he was about to endure. I imagined Beth and Ashley restraining him on the table and spreading his legs apart. And then one of them would probe his tight ass with their fingers before using the dildo on him, and ultimately the electric probe. I wondered which one of them would have the honor of getting this boy all worked up. Would it be Beth or Ashley? As he reached down to step into his jockstrap, I wondered just how big he would get. Would he be bigger than me? Would he last longer than me? And would Ashley or Beth help him get off when they finished with the study? Or was that something special that was reserved just for me?

"Well, good luck," I said to him as I started to walk away. Carrying my lock and key and my trusty jockstrap, I made my way through the sea of bodies to the exit. The male attendant was still there, but he was busy directing a line of guys as they were entering the locker room.

"Just deposit your lock and key and your used jockstrap over there," he said, pointing to a table on the other side of the exit.

I inserted my key into the lock and put it into the box with the other locks. I saw the large laundry bag that was filled with used jockstraps. I held my jockstrap up, preparing to throw it in with the others. The waistband felt wet with sweat. My fingers moved over the pouch and it was also wet, with either sweat or other bodily fluids, I couldn't be quite sure. Just at that moment, I decided to keep it as a memento of my morning. I thought it might come in handy in the near future. I looked around to see that no one was looking at me, then I wadded it up and stuffed the jockstrap into the front pocket of my jeans. Then, with a smile on my face, I exited the locker room and walked back to my dorm.