Well, he did in the abstract- he was in Carrie's home gym because Carrie had strong armed him into it. He was in town, but Shelly had a test to take, which meant he had very little excuse for being too busy to do whatever. He wasn't really in much of a mood to work out, himself- swordplay drills were much more fun when done with Simon as Shelly watched- but she hadn't specified that he had to work out; just that she wanted to.
"Ahhh, there we go!" she announced, walking into the room in an extremely tight- and very shiny- pink workout suit that hugged every single crevice of the cat, muscles and creases and big, globular boobs alike. Ugh, it was so hard to ever look away from them! Even when he didn't like her, that figure did a number on his attention span. "You ready??" she asked, activating a medstick and shoving it in her mouth as she did a few extremely distracting stretches that showed off her very powerful body in new and interesting ways.
"Uhh... I'm not really feeling exercising right now," Kenny said, hoping she wouldn't make a big deal out of it.
"Oh, that's not what I need you for," she assured him, picking up a water bottle and wetting her lips a bit, then wiping some on her forehead in preparation.
This confused him. "Then... what am I here for?"
That was when she did something he couldn't have expected in a million years. She grabbed the front of her suit, tugged it sidelong up the middle seam, and pulled a stretched, diamond-shaped opening in it. "Get in."
His jaw dropped. He stared at the mass of chiseled abs and pelvic mound and the undersides of her huge tits and stuttered "I-In?? What do you mean-"
"I MEAN put your little LARP set down, taking your fucking clothes off, and get in my suit," she explained very pointedly, with the confidence of ten people.
Kenny didn't understand what was happening, and he really felt confused when he found himself disrobed, trembling hands reaching for the flaps of her suit and working a leg up.
"Nope, other way. I wanna feel your cute lil' BUTT against me first," she said with sanguine interest, flipping the medstick from one side of her mouth to the other with her tongue. "Shelly's been talking it up a lot~"
Kenny obeyed, and when he did, he felt a thrill as his body was pressed up against Carrie's, his back pushed into those abs, and his head buried inch by inch into her cleavage. He got to watch, as if from the rear of a vehicle going into a tunnel, as his vision was increasingly blocked by big, fat, white tits until the back of his head reached her sternum. He already had an erection by the time she let go of the suit and let it auto-close itself, so it wrapped itself around the both of them perfectly, tracing his every contour. He was immediately half-blinded, but thankfully the material was very breathable and he had no trouble drawing in air. It was, however, incredibly humid, being stuffed into the clothing of another person.
"Alright, short stuff," Carrie said, getting into the chest fly machine. "Your job is to stay alive and, more importantly, clean my sweaty tits with your tongue."
Kenny had no words for the feelings that flooded his mind. This was the most arrogant thing to ask of anybody, but when compared with how fragile people had treated him, for being short tempered, or just short, it was... kind of thrilling. As he was lost in thought, however, his vision was eclipsed; she'd pulled the cords into a rep, and her arms pressed her breasts completely around him, sandwiching the entirety of his head between her huge hooters. The mere realization of this made his erection surge.
"I don't feel that tongue! Get in there! Turn your head!" Carrie commanded, doing more reps.
Kenny cocked his head back, stuck his tongue out, and was rewarded with it getting hugged by boobs. A thrill shot up his back as he let this happen again, and again. Her words lit up in his mind as he realized he was being too passive; he turned his head, opened his mouth and began to tongue worship the inside of Carrie's left tit, a dreamy smile on his face as he did it. He caught his breath, turned the other way and wetly nommed on it with his tongue and lips, lapping up her salty cleavage sweat. It was humiliating and gross and probably the hottest thing that had happened to him in recent memory.
"Ooh~!" Carrie squealed, shimmying at the sensations. "There's a good boy... you might just be good enough for Shelly."
There it was. The secret reason for all of this, disguised as a powerplay. She was testing his worthiness to date her packmate, in her own way. He was going to be put through trials of many kinds, so if he couldn't pass this one, he wasn't worth her time. Determination filled him.
Minutes passed by as he was the best tit sweat rag he could be. He hungrily sucked and licked her cleavage and endured the arduous feelings of her extremely strong rock-hard body bending him this way and that as she did multifarious exercises. Honestly, it was kind of difficult! At long last, she undid her suit and let the lemming's upper half, flush and gasping, out for a little air. He tried to get out completely, but when he did, she interfered, grabbing his legs and squeezing his butt and turning him around. Before he realized what was happening, he was naked and facing her now.
"Not yet, little buddy~♪" she taunted him, face visible only through her canyon of flushed cleavage. "Oral Code 'Small Fry.'" A chill ran down his spine. "It's time for jumping jacks."
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