The Majestic Adventures of CrossFit

Pt 3, the ovaries

Entranced by the grassland pubes encapsulating the crotch of the woman beside me, a grunt pulled me from the fantasy. I was thankful to know the men remained clothed. The man beside me still wore underwear. A small mercy, or blessing—I wasn't a religious man but the clothed schlongs gave me solace. I was not prepared for being an RX CrossFitter yet.

Near the end of the diaphanous hallway, two ovary like chambers were bubbled in giant, chrome domes, looking down on dull grey building with undertones of black.

The room was busy. People of all CrossFit sizes chattered back and forth. The women with panties on did not have forestland pubes. The group I was with led me to a woman in a white overcoat, turned away from us. The man still gripping my hand called to her, "Ahsalumanin!"

Both the man and woman holding my hand squeezed my hand twice in rapid succession, at the same time. I squeezed the woman's hand back.

The woman in the overcoat turned. It was unbuttoned down the middle, with almost no clothing. With titan tits and semi-truck nipples, suspended nanobots hovered her over.

The only reason I knew this woman was carried by microscopic machines was from the fire crotch woman from before; after the IP address of her optical implants paired with the embedded sensors in my head, we developed a telepathic connection.

The fire crotch woman whispered, "She's about to send you into training. You don't have to worry yet, but be careful of her semi-truck nipples. They're fitted for pulse orgasming."

I asked what that meant.

"It's a defense mechanism if a man or woman or animal tries to toy with her nipples. If she orgasms, her sex milk is deadly."

I showed no fear and introduced myself. "Hello."

"Greetings," the woman smiled with pearl white teeth. "Fresh meat for the gym."

The woman holding my left hand cut in, "He's our new SEO transcript writer."

Semi-truck nipples looked me up and down. "Then I won't bother giving you my name... yet. To much is at stake." She turned, satisfied with our three second conversation. "This way fresh meat." My hands were finally released. "Introductions can wait until after you pass out test."

I was led to an open spot in the room, somewhat in the middle. Walls constructed in a wave of pixelated squares; an illuminated screen manifested digitally by neon lights. I was surrounded and alone; the woman with semi-truck nipples was gone; from the artificial lights, a blueprint formed, and from there nanobots manifested in such a great number that they synthesized a robot head. Bald, full of gears, glowing eyes.

"Take a seat." It said with a mechanical vocal tone.

And I sat.

The illuminated screen played a cheesy workout beat, put a coach on screen, did a 180 of a gym with people dressed by normal society standards. The coach was a neck beard with a tank top and high rise teal socks. He walked for a good while, smiling at the camera sporadically, clicking his tongue, spinning. Until he stopped and looked at me. As if directly at me.

"Hey, you! Are you sick and fucking tired of trying to suck on your own penis, only to find out it's too small?"

I didn't say anything.

"Well guess what. You don't have to settle for not sucking on your penis."

"I don't?" I had to ask.

"Oh fuck no!" The man replied, walking to the side and grabbing a CrossFit band. "With our noose tying class, anyone can suck on their own penis."

Now I was curious.