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exatron! When his cheetah Dan gets a bit too competitive with Victor, the sparks fly, and both of them take it to the sparring ring to take it out on the only other person strong enough to take a hit from the other. Enjoy!
"I'm this close, Spots, I swear," Victor grumbled as he swapped positions with the cheetah. Dan mounted the weight, and his legs, his pride and joy, got to work. They were works of art; just as the great masters of the past had poured their hearts and souls into statues of saints and kings, Dan had spent years sculpting his diamond cut quads, thighs working like heavy duty tires as his perfectly shaped calves tensed, the lovingly crafted shape of his glutes flexing with each squat. He moved fluidly, showing as little strain as Victor did on the bench press.
The rat's eyes drifted down to the churning mass of muscle, going on his sixth rep— Dan was going slowly and deliberately, just to rub it in. Seven, eight, nine… and Victor spotted it. The thick, pulsing veins that snaked their way across the cheetah's musculature pulsed with a curious shade. Dan set the bar down after ten reps, an appropriately cat-like smile on his face.
Victor rolled his eyes. "Okay, wise-ass. What happened to no chemical augmentations? The veins in your leg muscles are glowing neon. I'm pretty sure your blood is radioactive right now."
Dan shrugged his broad shoulders, replying in an airy tone. "I don't know what you're talking about, Magnusson."
The rat cut the space between him and his workout partner, their chests smashing against each other with the force of a head-on collision. "Okay, Bergstrom. You didn't use any chemical augmentation, I didn't tap into any demonic force. But why don't we settle today in a more straightforward fashion?"
exatron! When his cheetah Dan gets a bit too competitive with Victor, the sparks fly, and both of them take it to the sparring ring to take it out on the only other person strong enough to take a hit from the other. Enjoy!"I'm this close, Spots, I swear," Victor grumbled as he swapped positions with the cheetah. Dan mounted the weight, and his legs, his pride and joy, got to work. They were works of art; just as the great masters of the past had poured their hearts and souls into statues of saints and kings, Dan had spent years sculpting his diamond cut quads, thighs working like heavy duty tires as his perfectly shaped calves tensed, the lovingly crafted shape of his glutes flexing with each squat. He moved fluidly, showing as little strain as Victor did on the bench press.
The rat's eyes drifted down to the churning mass of muscle, going on his sixth rep— Dan was going slowly and deliberately, just to rub it in. Seven, eight, nine… and Victor spotted it. The thick, pulsing veins that snaked their way across the cheetah's musculature pulsed with a curious shade. Dan set the bar down after ten reps, an appropriately cat-like smile on his face.
Victor rolled his eyes. "Okay, wise-ass. What happened to no chemical augmentations? The veins in your leg muscles are glowing neon. I'm pretty sure your blood is radioactive right now."
Dan shrugged his broad shoulders, replying in an airy tone. "I don't know what you're talking about, Magnusson."
The rat cut the space between him and his workout partner, their chests smashing against each other with the force of a head-on collision. "Okay, Bergstrom. You didn't use any chemical augmentation, I didn't tap into any demonic force. But why don't we settle today in a more straightforward fashion?"
Category Story / Muscle
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 120 x 120px
File Size 89 kB
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