Contains sexual themes, compression, and contortion

Matt climbed out of his car and eyed up the new gym. He’d heard good things about the place, though he’d never made the trek all the way across town to check it out. But lately it had become clear he had hit some roadblocks in his fitness journey, and people said the trainers here were experts in supplements and innovative techniques to get you over that last hurdle.

It wasn’t that Matt wasn’t fit. He was lean and lithe–a twink, as his friends liked to suggest. But  he was downright inflexible. Try as he might, he could barely bend over to touch his toes. Yoga was entirely out of the question. And let’s just say there were some things that a man wanted to be limber to properly enjoy.

“You must be Matt!” called an energetic voice as he entered the gym.

The place wasn’t as busy as he expected, so it wasn’t hard to spot the person responsible for the warm welcome. A woman who would have been obvious as a personal trainer even if she wasn’t in the gym uniform of a branded tank top and shorts. She was strong. That sort of healthy, well-built body that was much more real than the models and actresses that pop culture usually held up as physically fit. She was a little bit stouter, a little more solid, with a great deal of her curviness owing to muscle built up beneath the soft, feminine voluptuousness. She gave him a slap to the back that staggered him.

“So, you’re looking to build up your flexibility,” she said.

“If I can. So far nothing’s really helped.”

“Well, my name’s Madison, and trust me, before we’re through, you’ll be doing a full yoga session. But let’s see what we’re working with.”

She brought him over to a pad on the floor and sat him down, then tried to get him to spread his legs. He was barely able to get them apart, and when he tried to lean forward, he wasn’t even able to reach his shins, let alone his toes.

“Is that a spine or a flagpole? How do you put your socks on in the morning?” she jabbed, gently shoving him and finding him to have reached his limit.

“I told you, nothing has helped so far.”

“Well, I’ll tell you this. We’re skipping straight to the hard stuff.”

She yanked him effortlessly to his feet, then led him to a wall marked “Supplements.”

“Now, if you talk to the rest of the folks here, they’ll try to talk you into getting started on a regimen of stretches and fiber cleanses and you name it. None of it’ll work for someone like you. Your problem is holistically awful. Stiff bones, stiff muscles, stiff joints.”

“Bones are supposed to be stiff, aren’t they?” Matt said.

She scoffed. “Sure, if you’re a quitter.”

She revealed a water bottle with the gym’s logo on it and filled it at the filtered tap. Then out came a pill bottle. It was utterly covered with warnings, but she didn’t give him time to read them. She just dumped the contents into the bottle and handed it to him.

“Shake that up good and hard. Thirty seconds of shaking. I’ll be right back. I have to get the private studio ready,” she said.

She strutted away and jingled some keys, in front of a door labeled “By Appointment Only.” As he shook, the water in the bottle took on a milky look. And when it was fully shaken, he popped it to find it had a mildly chemical scent. Madison waved him over.

“What is this stuff?” he asked as he reached the doorway.

“If you want to be flexible, it’s what your body craves. Now drink it. The whole thing.”

“You’re sure?”

“The faster you drink that, the sooner you can start your journey to flexibility.”

Considering everything else he’d tried had failed, he decided he didn’t have anything to lose. He started to drink the bottle. The flavor was… weird. Halfway between medicine and an energy drink. He was about to back off and consider if maybe he was uncomfortable with taking so much of a supplement that he didn’t even know the name of, but the decision of how much to drink and how quickly was made for him when she playfully grabbed the bottom of the bottle and tipped it up, forcing him to guzzle almost the entire bottle.

Quickly, the flavor ceased to be the most noticeable feature. He was… tingly. His whole body was starting to feel warm and with just a touch of that “waking from being asleep” feeling of pins and needles. It was distracting. So distracting, that he was practically in a disoriented daze as Madison maneuvered him down to the cushioned floor again and repeated the flexibility tests.

“Legs out,” she instructed.

He spread his legs as much as he could. Or at least, as much as he thought he could. But she scoffed and shoved his heel with the toe of her sneaker. In a long creak that was either the sound of his sneaker sliding across the floor or his joints groaning in complaint, his legs effortlessly spread fully out to the sides. It was intense, like a morning stretch, but amplified. Not painful, not exactly. But a LOT.

“Oh yeah. That stuff’s kicking in. Let’s start pushing your limits,” she said.

“This is already pretty far past my limit,” he groaned, the shock of the stretch still lingering.

“I’m not resting until you’re a pretzel, I don’t do things halfway.”

“But maybe we should–oof!”

She didn’t wait for his reply. She just grabbed his leg and pulled it forward again, knocking him to his back. She then grabbed the other leg and started to put her weight on them, folding his legs more and more firmly atop him. Soon, his knees were pressing into his shoulders, but she still wasn’t satisfied. She straddled the back of his thighs to keep them pinned against him, then tugged his head with one hand and folded one leg back. It effortlessly hooked behind his neck. A shift of her weight and grip snagged the other leg and hooked it behind as well. When she stood, he was groaning a bit, fully pretzeled, as she’d promised. This wasn’t just flexibility, it was contortion, and it should have been enough to mangle his spine given how stiff he usually was. But it still wasn’t painful. Close, but mostly it was just a hot, electric bolt shooting through every bit of him that was past its usual limit. And his body wasn’t the only thing that was struggling. As he quivered with tension, his workout shorts were swiftly demonstrating they weren’t meant to stay in place on a body that was hyperextended forward. The waistband finally slipped past his ass and slid up his thighs, unearthing his cock, which escaped its confines with twang.

Madison glanced up to the source of the sound, then smirked.

“Well, someone’s enjoying this,” she said.

She planted a foot on his chest to keep him from straightening up, then roughly wrapped a hand around his cock and balls. She shook with surprise, but folded as he was, there wasn’t anything he could do, and given how sensitive his body was becoming as the tension increased, he wasn’t sure he wanted to stop her.

“Let’s see how far along you are,” she said.

With one hand still gripping his privates, she leaned toward his head and feet again, putting more weight on his chest and making him wheeze a bit. She wrangled his arms and crossed them over his legs and chest. Then, with a little fiddling, she was able to slide her fingers under where the ankles crossed behind his neck and hook her thumb over his throat. With a curl of her fingers, she managed to get both ankles and his neck into one wadded up grip. Now his groin was sticking out of one fist and his head and legs were sticking out the other. She shifted her foot to somewhere over his belly button…

“Here we go,” she said, giving him a sly look.

His eyebrows rose, but with his throat in her grip, he couldn’t release so much as a peep. Then she stood, heaving both hands up. He vibrated with sensation as he was folded again, body stretching with rubbery squeals. Then she stuffed his cock and balls into the same grip as his neck, pressing his own cock against his face, and pulled her foot away. His body slapped up from the floor and thumped into the bottom of her fist, but she quickly cupped it from below and pulled the dangling, stretchy mass up and over his face and junk. Everything went dark as he was cocooned in his own body, but that was the least of his worries. There was not an inch of his body that wasn’t stretched or compacted to a cartoonish degree. He felt her hands gathering up bulges here and tucking them in there, folding and mashing him tighter and tighter in her grip. He heard tearing of cloth as his clothes simply refused to match the elasticity of his flesh. They were pulled of the tangled mass until he felt nothing but flesh against flesh.

Then… came the twist…

~~~

Madison eyed up the bundle she’d made of her latest client. What had been a twink was now a football sized wad of humanity. This was probably plenty flexible, but for her it wasn’t just important to her that he be flexible, he should be useful. And since she knew from the erect cock that served as the chewy center of this little treat that he was enjoying this, or at least his body was, then she might as well enjoy it too.

She subtly double checked the door was locked, then gripped one end of the wad in one hand and the other end in the other. Slowly, she started to twist it. This managed to force a muffled groan from inside the bundle despite how tightly he was packed. She twisted and twisted, his body curling tighter and tighter. The football of flesh turned into a stout rod, then a slightly more slender one until, quivering with tension and candy-caned with spirals of flesh, she had something just about the perfect size to use as a dildo.  She gripped it nice and tight, while she deftly removed a condom from her pocket and tore the package open with her teeth. Once she’d slid him into the tight rubber wrapper, it was enough pressure to keep him from untangling. With a knowing smile, she reclined on the ground  and eased her shorts down.

~~~

Every cell in Matt’s body was singing with raw sensation as he felt the rubber wrapper pulled tight around him, then felt the pressure and heat of his body sliding in and out, a firm grip on one side and silken folds embracing the other. Sweat and other juices made him slip and slide a bit, adding just that much more sensation to the mind-breaking cocktail. He felt a clench of pressure and a shiver all around him, then a contented sigh as he was slowly pulled free. He felt the rubber casing peeled off and his body plumped up a bit, dizzily unraveling and restoring until he found himself dangling like a damp rag from the fist gripping his cock.

Deft fingers grabbed the back of his floppy, wrung-out head and raised it to look him in the eye.

“There, now that’s flexible. But a workout isn’t a workout without washing up afterward.”

He shivered a bit, floppy body waving in the breeze as she walked to the back corner of the room, where a single shower was set into the wall. That was where she was headed, but he realized too late that it wasn’t where he was headed. Beside the shower door was a washer dryer. With all of the ceremony of a load of dirty undies, she tossed him inside, dumped on some detergent, and slammed the lid.

The next forty-five minutes were a rolercoaster of hot suds and constant swishing. His eyes were spinning by the time the water drained out and she interrupted her continuing workout long enough to fish him out and send him, instead, into a hot tumble to be dried in an equally stomach turning adventure. Another forty-five minutes brought the ordeal to an end with a soft Ding and he dizzily gazed out the glass door, his body jumbled up around him, as a rush of steam wafted in front of the dryer and Madison stepped out of the shower. She was naked, and dripping wet. Her glistening body on full display.

“Ah,” she said, opening the door and pulling him out. “Perfect timing.”

She supported his head with her hand and quickly put him to work, mashing his hot, freshly dried body against her body. He glided under her arms, over her breasts, across her midriff. She threaded him between her legs and grabbed head and feet, flossing him back and forth between her thighs to dry herself, then finished off by gently swabbing him between each of her toes. Finally, she gave him a little snap and hung him over a bar while she got dressed.

“You know something? I almost admire how flexible you’ve gotten,” she said. “Me, I try to skip the supplements. Which means I have to do these big warm ups and cool downs to stay limber. … In fact… How would you like to help out.

He whimpered lightly, the most he could manage as his flattened and wrinkled body wavered in the breeze from the air conditioning. As always, his opinion wasn’t really relevant. She slipped him off the towel bar and, yet again, grabbed him by head and foot. This time she swing her hands in tight little circles, forcing his body to whip around and around until he was a long, twisted cord of sorts. She gave him a fet tugs, flattening him out a bit, then pinned his center to the ground while she started using him as a fitness band, stretching and tugging, using the aching tension of his body as gentle resistance for her cool-down routine. Maybe it was his imagination, or maybe it was just him getting used to it, but it seemed like after five minutes, his body wasn’t quite so tight anymore. It didn’t fill him with such a jolt of feeling when she tugged him.

It turns out, it wasn’t his imagination.

After five more minutes, he was dizzily shaken out. Now she glared at him in disappointment.

“Jeez, Matt. You lost your stretch already? I thought for sure I’d get more use out of you, but looks like you’re just more pliable than stretchy. You’re all used up. Maybe I should stick to the half-bottle doses instead of full bottle…” She shrugged. “Eh, no matter. Twinks are always good for one last thing.”

She flopped him on the floor, then pinned one shoulder under one foot and started pushing and stretching at him with the other. It felt like, and looked like, she was stretching a pizza to prepare it for toppings, but instead of round, she was working him out into a long rectangular shape. Once he was roughly rectangular, she dropped to her hands and knees to really push and tug the corners and knead things into a uniform thickness. When she was done, he couldn’t tell what had become of him. He just knew he was flat, she as standing on him, and he was staring at the ceiling.

She loomed over him with a smile. “Finally living up to your name, Matt. I told you you’d be doing a yoga session before I was done.”

With that, she turned and took a seat on his motionless face, her warm, toned buns mashing him down a bit as she began her stretches…