Dark Gym

Catie had let her gym membership lapse six months earlier, the decision crystallizing one humid Tuesday evening when she caught yet another stranger’s gaze sliding deliberately from her damp collarbones down the shallow valley between her small, high breasts, then lower still to the cling of her black leggings over the neat, rounded curve of her ass. She was five-foot-four, delicately slim—narrow shoulders, long runner’s legs, a flat stomach that still showed the faint outline of her lowest ribs when she stretched—and her pale blonde hair, usually pulled into a high, messy knot, had escaped in sweaty tendrils that stuck to the flushed skin of her neck and upper chest. She knew exactly how her body looked in those moments: skin glistening, sports bra darkened at the center with perspiration, nipples faintly visible through the thin, wet fabric when the air-conditioning hit just right. To too many men that sheen and those small, telling details did not signal “woman working out”; they signaled “available.”

She hated how predictable their eyes became—how they lingered on the gentle flare of her hips, the dimples at the small of her back when her tank rode up, the way her thighs flexed and trembled during weighted squats. She was not voluptuous; she had no dramatic hourglass to gawk at. Yet somehow her slender, almost fragile-looking frame seemed to invite the same proprietary stares, the same muttered “damn, girl” under their breath, the same slow once-overs that stripped her sports bra and leggings away in their minds before she’d even finished her set. She felt reduced to parts: pert tits, tight little waist, fuckable legs, pretty pink mouth currently parted to catch her breath.

She missed the old rhythm desperately—the burn that spread through her muscles, the warm aftermath and progress of her stretching exercises, the cedar-scented heat of the sauna afterward that would open her pores and leave her skin flushed an even deeper rose from neck to navel. But every new gym she tried circled back to the same quiet violation: a hand “accidentally” brushing her lower back as someone passed, a lingering stare while she adjusted her form in the mirror, a low whistle when she bent to pick up her water bottle and the waistband of her leggings slipped just enough to reveal the top elastic of her thong. Most men were fine. Most. But the ones who weren’t left her feeling shrink-wrapped inside her own skin—too exposed, too small-boned, too blonde, too white-girl-pretty in a way that apparently still read to certain strangers as permission.

She would walk out with her arms crossed tight over her chest, shoulders hunched, trying to make her already petite frame disappear even further, and wonder how long it would take before she simply accepted that staying home was safer.

Then her friends started talking about Dark Gym. Mixed-gender, they insisted, but somehow different. No harassment, no leering, just people focused on their lifts and cardio. And the best part? An option to slash the membership fee—sometimes all the way to zero. Catie was skeptical. She'd heard of female-only gyms but also that those could turn toxic in their own ways, and she didn't want to trade one problem for another. But the praise of Dark Gym kept coming, so she finally booked a free trial.

The tour was led by Ellen, assigned to be her personal trainer. She was a confident athlete with shoulder-long brunette hair, powerful corded forearms, a taut swimmer’s back that flexed visibly beneath her fitted black tank top, and long, defined legs that seemed to eat up the floor with every purposeful stride. She anticipated every question before Catie could ask it. The main floor had everything: gleaming equipment, spacious locker rooms, clean showers, a small café with protein shakes and snacks. Best of all, the atmosphere was calm. Members—men and women alike—kept to themselves, headphones in, eyes on their form. No one glanced her way like she was on display. It felt like breathing after holding her breath for years.

“It’s so calm here, …”, Catie was looking for the fitting word, “… peaceful.”

Ellen stepped closer now, nearly as close for whispering a secret: “It is very relaxed here, indeed. Honestly, Catie, I was so fed up with the sexism at my work places that I almost did quit my trainer career. But then I started here at Dark gym and it’s all in the past now.”

Near the end, Ellen paused by a discreet door tucked behind a corner. “And over here is our Dark Room,” she said casually. “You can ignore it completely unless you're curious. Most people do just fine without it.”

Catie's curiosity spiked. “I heard something about fee reductions...?”

Ellen smiled, a little knowing. “That's tied to the Dark Room, yeah. How easily do things freak you out, Catie?”

“I'm open-minded. It's optional, right? I'd like to understand.”

Ellen hesitated: “It’s actually nothing you need to know. Promise me to forget about it at the first slightest discomfort you feel about it.”

But Catie insisted: “Don’t worry. I will forget about this Dark room if it’s not to my taste. Your gym is already totally convincing to me. I definitely continue after the trial period if my impression of the main hall proofs right. I don’t actually need any fee reduction. It’s so relaxed. Please, go on, Ellen. I’ll follow.”

Ellen nodded, looked at her phone, and then pointed towards Catie’s phone: “You need your gym app to access the Dark room and use its features. It’s already available during your trial period. Fortunately for us, the Dark room completely empty at the moment. Therefore, I can easily show you everything.”

She led the way inside. The room was pitch black except for faint floor strips guiding the path. Catie's phone lit up with the gym app, projecting a simple map and navigation prompts. The space felt maze-like—short walls, partitions, creating private alcoves. Ellen stayed close.

“It's unisex,” Ellen explained. “Mostly men come for active use, but plenty of women do too—active and passive. Passive use earns fee reductions. Active is free. If reductions exceed your bill, they roll over forever—there’s no cash payout for legal reasons, but some members are good for several life times by now.”

With a slightly impressed face, Catie blinked in the dim light. ‘Completely free membership for life?’, she dreamed for herself, before focusing again: “Passive means...?”

“You offer yourself in one of the stations.”, Ellen insinuated with a slight smirk, “The machine handles everything: cleaning, safety monitoring, heart-rate checks. You set your limits, position, access points.”, she stressed who was in control, waiting for Catie to process the information before she continued: “Active users connect anonymously through the app when a station is available. You control duration, options, everything. Quit anytime with a voice command or app button. It's designed to be safe and consensual.” Ellen genuinely smiled.

Catie started to grasp the concept but still didn’t fully understand until they reached an unoccupied station: a sleek, padded pod with adjustable restraints, limb supports, and a central seat. Small indicator lights glowed softly. Ellen's phone synced, showing availability.

“This is one in cleaning process, that’s why we can’t access it.”, Ellen interrupted Catie, pointing on the red lock with a shower symbol, “There are so many of these machines here that usually there is one available any time. As you can see on your app, if you wanted to be active, you’d had bad luck right now, but we are heading to the next machine ready for passive use. Even without entering the Dark room, you can check availability via your gym app any time.”

Catie’s face mirrored her confusion with this unusual terminology. They had entered a nearly close little room, or more of a big box with a complex machine in it. Small lights highlighted spaces where a human being could insert their limbs, and a seat for the main body, pretty much like a training machine. At the end, was a display confirming that Catie’s app was connected to this box now.

“You choose how much or little you expose,” Ellen continued. “Genitals start being covered by the machine for legal reasons, but it can stimulate them however you allow. If you ever like to make them available, come visit us at the reception to sign a waiver. Everything else—restraints, impact, verbal, recording—is up to you. Extra options add to the fee reduction based on active use.”

Catie stared at the setup. Modern, clinical almost, yet unmistakably intimate. A strange heat bloomed low in her belly. She'd fantasized about anonymous encounters before—control surrendered on her terms—but never like this.

Ellen stepped back. “Take your time. I'll wait outside if you want to try it now. It’s totally fine if you don’t.”

Catie swallowed, “I think...”, she paused, before finding her courage with a firm voice: “Yeah. I'd like to try.”

“If you have any further questions, please discretely approach me or any other staff member any time. There’s even an after-action report available in the app.”, Ellen pointed out. “The Dark room measures your heart-rate and health, including to keep you safe. You may even consider it a decent training. Just in case, please remember that red stops everything instantly. See you outside, Catie.”

Catie nodded slowly, still gazing at the clean high-tech machine. Her mind was still making out what to think about all this, while her body messengers drove roller-coaster. Surely, she at least wanted to use the Dark gym in general, no matter the Dark room, even or maybe because she now understood why everyone was so relaxed and didn’t bother anyone else. Soon, she was sure she wanted to try it out at least once. And then why not right now?! Catie felt a little tingle between her legs. Yes, if she could choose whenever she wanted, she might use it for monthly days when she was being horny and alone.

Alone in the dark, Catie undressed slowly. The air was cool against her skin, raising goosebumps. She wasn't soaked yet, but excitement made her slick. She settled into the seat, limbs sliding into padded cuffs. The machine adjusted gently, cradling her.

Her phone glowed with the options screen. She scrolled deliberately, heart hammering, only glancing over any explanation texts.

Position: doggy-style default, but allow changes. The machine shifted her automatically—thrilling.

Access: rear and oral. Vaginal blocked, as Ellen had told her. She hesitated on anal—she wasn't experienced there—but curiosity won.

Restraints: total until no activity for one hour, max four. Blindfold. Ring gag. The idea of being held open, helpless, sent a shiver through her.

Porn on screen allowed: If they wanted that, sure. It might help to get it over with and earn the fee reductions with less effort. She would use these studs to get mounted and satisfied, plus possibly saving some money. At least, she would try, and never repeat if it wasn’t hers.

As within a fast-food restaurant with too many options, Catie was getting impatient by now. Fortunately, the progress bar revealed that she was almost finished if she remained decisive.

Impact: groping, slapping (ass and face), hair-pulling, spitting, name-calling. Each ticked added points. She enabled them all, making her pulse race.

Genital stimulation: full control to the active user, including patterns, intensity, even electrical stimulation within limits. Yes, she was now eager to be surprised today.

Verbal and physical degradation: no clue what that involved, Catie hat to read the details here. Name-calling, groping, spitting, ass slapping, face slapping, and hair-pulling. Every option was worth extra points even if it wasn’t used.

Extra acts: ass-to-mouth allowed. She expected to be quite clean at the moment anyways. Monkey punching? The details showed: side punches during use. Her finger hung in the air before she gave it the push.

Display: her photo, real name, basic info: job, email, socials. The center of the screen displayed all these now. Catie was quite happy with her current picture. It made her look good and sexy. She might get some contacts and actually find a partner, someone who she didn’t need to try out in bed by then. Whoever was going to fuck her was going to know her face and real identity while she would only get to know the other side if they choose to allow her that information. Her tingling grew even stronger. The asymmetry made her dizzy with arousal. Agreed!

Recording: allowed for active users. Upload to the Dark gym site, wait what? Ah, only for members. That would help with having the right active users, and possibly connecting to them. She ticked yes, imagining someone revisiting the footage later. Maybe herself even?

Her tummy full of butterflies, Catie saved the profile, hit confirm.

The machine hummed softly, locking restraints with quiet clicks. A blindfold lowered on her head making the darkness absolute. Then a ring gag approached her mouth, pressing on it until she opened up and getting her mouth stretched.

Minutes passed without anything happening. Catie wasn’t used to tell the time without watch, especially not while blindfolded. She started to hear ghosts between the humming sounds. Suddenly, she noticed near footsteps. There was a presence behind her.

Whoever it was decided not to speak for now. His big hands explored her body first: rough, callused, groping her breasts, slapping her ass hard enough to sting. She moaned around the gag, body arching instinctively as much as her restraints allowed.

A low voice muttered: “Fucking slut!”

There was a spitting sound, and instantly she felt a tiny wet spot on her asshole. A cock pressed against her rear, building up pressure before it slowly entered. It rested there a while before pushing in deeper, making Catie exhale from the sensation. Pain flared in front of her blinded eyes, then melted into fullness as balls touched her vagina. The cock has entered her completely, making use of her natural wetness inside that she hadn’t even been aware of. Catie was glad the cock starting moving in and out only slowly for now, as she could feel its significant size.

This time she hadn’t heard it coming. Another set of hands grabbed her hair, pulling her head back and another cock being pushed right into her throat. With the ring-gag her mouth remained wide open. Her breath was interrupted and her throat bulged, making her uncomfortable yet highly aroused by being spit roasted. In between she wished whoever it was in front of her wouldn’t enjoy deliberately leaving his cock fully in her throat for long periods or give her more time to recover air when he pulled it out or just fucked her throat.

Now that both cocks had made themselves comfortable with penetrating Catie’s entries, they sped up, and after a while varied in speed, reminding her of a bicycle tour through the mountains. Her pulse went up and down, making up for a good cardio she felt unable to stop.

She heard the men groaning strong and short, focused on their actions before one of them announced: “Gonna fill you up, bitch.”

Shortly after, both fulfilled that promise. Since she could feel their sperm on both ends, it must have been a bigger amount, she thought to herself.

The men slapped on her face and ass a last time like a good job pat on the back, but then left without a word, and without any orgasm yet. Catie was left gasping for air and cooling down overall. Catie hoped due to the duration she had chosen, with enough action, that relief was inevitable.

It wasn’t long until another man approached her with a uniquely twisted voice: “What do we have here. Welcome to the club … Catie.”

Catie could still not sure but was sure she would recognize the voice should she ever get to talk to him in the future. Since she couldn’t answer, her body tensed in anticipation.

This one was more of a talker: “I see you have already been broken in. No worries, I’ll take my time then. I usually enjoy a longer fuck much better, but you’ll see … or don’t. First lube me up!”

His cock rammed into her throat until his balls touched her chin and stayed there until Catie instinctively would have pushed him out against all discipline not to, but instead her arms and legs fought against their restraints to no avail.

“Let’s test your endurance, babe.”, he mocked her.

A few seconds later, he finally pulled out, giving her a big breath, before he relentlessly fucked her throat now. Frequently, he held it completely in again for a similar amount of time, testing her limits, not without more remarks like “Training your diving skills. Do you like it, whore”?

Occasionally, he even held her nose shut while flopping her mouth, plapping his heavy balls against her chin. There was no doubt he was lubed up well now, as saliva had spilled everywhere and hang down in ropes.

“Look how wet you are, fucking slut. It even spills through your mouth and nose!”, he laughed.

When he stopped, Catie couldn’t believe he hadn’t cum yet from all the fucking. She could feel her wetness flowing but was merely aroused instead of a tour of climaxing in a way she knew she could from anal. Her current position was nothing she was used to though, but the novelty and kinkiness rather added to her mood.

Then he started pounding her ass without warning. The first thrusts stung sharp as he violently drilled her rear, audibly plapping his balls and her ass.

With a nearly unaffected breath he asked her: “Do you like it that loud, bitch? We are going to make some noise here, but don’t worry, the sound is quite isolated in here.”

Eventually, he changed pace up and down, finally allowing Catie to progress towards a climax though it seemed to take ages in disregard of her comfort. She leaned into the sensation building up in her, but still short off her goal, he finally pulled out only to ram his cock into her throat again. There was no time to taste anything but for the bland saliva juice that had already been there mixed with a taste of cock skin and some sour throat revulsion.

Being treated like a fuck toy, Catie’s arousal was getting even stronger while her inner sensation died down. Again, she could have sworn the average fuck she had would have cum by any of the throat and ass fucking alone. But this one swapped again so many times she lost count, riding her higher when he took her ass only to let it fade by having the other end. Catie was getting frustrated which just added more to her longing.

Finally, he stopped, letting the machine change Catie’s position for the first time. The restraints pushed and pulled her body until she lay in an uncomfortable plow position, her torso resting on the upper back with her lower body being stretched over hear head, feet beside her ears. Now this was the time she was happy about the yoga stretching she had inserted into her routine. Still, she wasn’t used to hold it for more than a minute. And how would he fuck to orgasm like this?

A long, rhythmic grunting later she got her answer: “Enjoy … your … treat, … fuck doll.”

A whole load of spunk splatted on her face. Catie was left with no choice but to endure the position and let it dry, hoping for a new visitor rather soon.

Her face had already started to itch, her restraints allowing not the slightest relief, while her body painfully told her to change position, but she couldn’t.

A whole while later a whole group of men entered, joyfully chatting like a herd of goose. Catie’s position shifted and they didn’t hesitate to fuck her both holes again, taking shifts to prolong anyone finishing soon. Time blurred. Positions shifted without warning—the machine tilting her, spreading her further. Punches landed on her sides during thrusts, sharp bursts that made her gasp and clench. Someone slapped her face lightly, spat on her cheek. Finally, her pussy was being stimulated by the machine. It came in unpredictable waves though—vibrating, pulsing, edging her close then backing off.

Long before the group was done with her, Catie came hard the first time, her body shaking in restraints. Then again, and again. Orgasms rolled into each other until she lost count. Exhaustion crept in, but the machine kept her supported, safe. She embraced the men filling her holes two at a time meanwhile.

The last one left the room remarking: “Good fucking slut this one. I hope she returns. Already gave her a follow.”

After what felt like forever—the app later said three hours and forty minutes—the activity tapered. No new users. The restraints released gradually. She pulled the gag free, gasping, limbs trembling, and herself exhausted as after a long run.

She showered in the bright main locker room, her muscles sore in the best way. In the mirror, faint red marks bloomed on her skin. Her phone pinged: nearly a week's fees credited already.

Catie smiled, a towel wrapping her shoulders. The main gym floor still hummed with focused energy. No stares, no tension. Just people training. She knew she'd be back tomorrow. Maybe passive again. Maybe active, once she felt ready to claim someone else's station. For the first time in years, working out felt like freedom.