My gay robot personal trainer made me bench press buckets of his ***
Aka the gay erotic absurdist fiction your life is missing.
“Bzzzzzzzt”. My bleary eyes just pick out 4:00 AM on the alarm-clock beside me and I roll onto my side in protest. Feeling the motivation to rise draining inside me, I reach down to feel my hard abs, then trace a finger over my cute spherical butt. “This. body. is. worth. it.” I repeat to myself. I slide on my tank top and roll out of bed.
The streets of Austin are empty; It’s a holiday weekend and everyone has taken air-trains to far-flung resorts. A gentle May-breeze blows through Downtown cooling my face.
I stroll into Gold’s Robo-Gym, passing straight through the face-scanners to the changing rooms. Being straight, changing rooms are a pointed and solitary affair for me, but I can’t help feeling a note of disappointment that I’m the only one in there.
I head down a level to the small weights-room to meet my Robo-Trainer. His assigned name is H115R-oTron, but he just lets me call him Hunter. My still-waking eyes are dazzled by his gleaming stature.
I enjoy working with Hunter — his instructions are precise, he is able to lift entire weight-racks and he costs a fraction of a human personal trainer. We’ve been working together for four years, and I like to think that somewhere in his cold digital logic I am his favorite.
“BLEEP — Greetings human 1502” Hunter intones, his usual bashfulness not dampened by the holiday exodus. “Hey Hunter, it’s great to see you” I reply, truthfully. “Do you think we could do a longer session today, since it’s so quiet?”. “BLEEP — Meeting adjusted” he said, with an inviting twinkle in his blue cobalt-anodized eyes.
I hope you enjoyed this sample — it’s about to get much steamer — please hoppity hop over to Amazon to get the full frontal experience on your kindle robo-device.
Note: If you are not happy I will personally Venmo you a refund. If you want to write a great review, I will also happily Venmo you back. Big love. Contact me via DM on Instagram
This piece of writing joy is a personal homage to the great Chuck Tingle. It kinda makes a lot more sense if you know who he is…
