FSE

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Chest Day was Guntur's favorite day of the week. Other people - normal people, SMALL people - called it Monday. The sun bear let a snarl thunder up through his gritted teeth. He forced the dumbbells together - the heaviest set in the gym - again, and again, letting the feeling of pectorals the size of Thanksgiving turkeys crushing together fuel his pride.

With a booming sigh, Guntur sat back up, let the massive weights shake the floor as they dropped from his brutish paws. One rolled forward to stop at the shoe of a lynx. The pipsqueak wore the red and black of gym staff. His arms were wavy with muscle, but he had no definition. It was almost a jogger's body.

The lynx's adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. "Excuse me, Guntur," he began.

Guntur stopped him with a thick clawed finger in the air. He reached for a can of Monster Juice and ripped open the tab with his fangs. Three swallows later and the muscle shake was gone. He slowly crushed the can out of sight in one hungry fist.

"What?" Guntur demanded.

"Sorry to bother you, but this rabbit, here, says you forced him off this bench," the lynx went on.

Rabbit? Guntur's dark eyes turned to the figure standing beside the lynx. He hadn't even noticed the rabbit's presence. The little wimp was a noodle. A thick noodle, maybe, but his body was a joke. What the hell was a fucking rabbit doing in a gym?

"That right?" Guntur said.

Without another word, he lay back down for his next set and started to pump. The rabbit quivered beside the lynx, probably trying to hide a puny little erection behind those tiny paws. The thought made Guntur almost chuckle.

"Guntur, this is serious!" the lynx mewled. "I can't have you bullying other people around in here!"

Okay. The lynx was getting annoying. And it would be fun to see if the rabbit snuck by after his workout to beg for his number. Guntur didn't even bother to slow down as he worked his beautiful chest.

"Aw, don't make such a big deal about it," Guntur said, letting his rolling bass ooze with seduction. "You know how much I like you, cat. You wouldn't want THAT to stop, would you?" He glanced down over the swelling of his own pecs.

To his satisfaction, he saw the lynx's ears blaze so badly they might have caught fire. Neither of them could meet his gaze. The puny rabbit kept trying to pretend he wasn't staring.

"Hm?" Guntur pressed, sitting back up with a lazy smirk and bouncing his magnificent pecs for both of the runts.

"....n...n..no...I...wouldn't...want that to stop. ...sir." the lynx whispered in his smallest voice.

"Good!" Guntur grunted. "I'm done with these weights. Put 'em back for me, cat, and your little friend can have the bench. I was just leaving."

Guntur chuckled while the lynx was forced to struggle one huge dumbbell at a time back onto the rack. He slid his eyes toward the bunny standing in his shadow. Staring up at him with huge eyes.

"So." Pec throb. "Like what you see, bunny?"

"I..." the bunny started to answer when another rabbit came dashing over.

"Harry!" he squeaked. "What are you doing? Oh, Hi, Guntur," he added absently while tugging on Harry's arm. "He's gonna do it! Come on! You'll miss it!"

The bunny named Harry cooed and ran off, paw in paw with his fellow. Guntur narrowed his eyes and growled low under his breath. The fuck was going on?

Guntur lumbered after the two bunnies, across the gym to the squat racks. One of them was surrounded by a small crowd. A small crowd! And it wasn't around HIM! It wasn't just little wimps like the bunnies, either. Jake the stallion, Wrench the big power-lifter rhino, even the tiger twins were there!

With his superior height, Guntur could peer at the center of the scene. What he saw made his jaw unhinge.

A fox - a fucking goddamn FOX - was lying down on a flat bench under a barbell in the squat rack. He wore some sort of sky blue sleeveless shirt and darker blue matching speedos. Either side of the bar was fully loaded - FULLY loaded by Guntur's own standards of the term! There had to be 500 pounds on there! Guntur shifted his position for a better look. This was no small fox. He was packing serious beef. Guntur could scarcely believe it. Juicy traps, rounded thick shoulders, bulging arms met his eyes. A deep fully formed chest strained beneath the shirt. A flat belly with visible abs, sculpted thick legs - this fox had it all!

To add insult to injury, Java - the cheetah gymnast that Guntur had been working on for weeks, who kept playing so fucking hard to get - was spotting the fox! Guntur watched Java count down from three, and the fox's face bunched together in effort.

Guntur couldn't help feeling his own huge muscles tense in sympathy for the fox's struggle. The bar rose. Touched the fox's chest. And started to inch upward. The crowd was barking, neighing, shouting. The fox's whole muscular frame shook. His breath came out in a slow hiss, like a tea kettle about to boil. Guntur had to admire his control. Those brilliant, startling silver-gray eyes stared off into space, not seeing the crowds, not even seeing the gym. Focused on one thing - pushing. The bar rose. And rose. At last, the fox's bulging arms, knotted with muscle and veins, straightened. Jake and Wrench gripped the sides of the barbell to help the fox cradle it. The fox's abs bunched under his shirt and he sat up. He shook paws, took rubs and slaps to his mighty heaving back, even snatched a few kisses here and there.

Guntur couldn't contain himself any longer.

"Hey!" he said. Heads turned toward him in surprise. The noise died. "What the shit is this?"

The fox raised an eyebrow. He looked around himself and shrugged his meaty shoulders. "Just lifting, I guess."

Jake, sensing the daggers Guntur was giving, clapped his hands together. "Well! You kids have fun. I think I'll go hit the treadmill."

The crowd dispersed and the fox gazed up at Guntur's looming figure. He didn't stare. He simply looked, sometimes blinking. Innocent as you please.

"What was that, your one rep max?" Guntur sneered. "I could pump out a full heavy set with that weight."

"Well, now that I know I can lift it, I know I can lift it more next time," the fox answered in that same easy, calm voice.

"Just stay out of my way," Guntur muttered. He was done with this over-built vulpine.

"Or what?" came the reply to Guntur's back. The calm was still there, but it was the raw, still calm of a January night.

So, the fox wanted to play rough?

Guntur turned back around and drew himself up short. Those silver-grey eyes stared into his, nose to nose. The fox had stood up, and Guntur had to readjust his entire estimation of the fox's size. Pound for pound, inch for inch, the fox was his equal! Guntur felt his roid-addled mind explode a bit.

Guntur stuck to his guns. His thick brows lowered menacingly. "Or I'll move you."

"Like you moved Harry?" The fox's voice was soft as silk and even colder if that were possible.

Guntur snorted. "Little shit shouldn't have even been in here! This isn't some YMCA, this is a professional grade gym! Where the big boys play!"

The fox pointed a thumb behind one bulging shoulder. "The sign over there says otherwise."

He was pointing to the Rules of Conduct framed on the wall. Guntur had a sudden urge to stride over and rip it off the wall. Better yet, slam it down over that smug fox's pretty face.

"This is MY gym, fox," Guntur growled with full fangs. "I don't care what some fucking sign says. You ask any of the staff here who REALLY rules, and they'll tell you."

"I have," the fox answered. He closed the distance to Guntur until they were less than an inch apart. "They've told me all about you, bear. Now, listen up, because I'm only saying this once. This is MY gym, now, too. And in my gym, EVERYONE has a shot at the weights. I'll be here five days a week. If I see you pull anything like what you did on Harry today, I won't bother the staff with it. I'll go straight to management. I'm sure you've got quite the reputation by now. Management will ask around. The staff will tell management what they told me. And this WON'T be your gym any more."

****

After his confrontation with Guntur, the shower felt good. Hiro closed his eyes under the icy water. He couldn't understand how most guys could work up such a sweat and then sweat more under a hot shower. Maybe it was because he was a fox, and his body regulated heat differently.

His ear turned at some faint sound. Hiro glanced to his left. Harry the rabbit stood there, shy paws covering his crotch. Hiro wiped his eyes free of water.

"Did you need something, Harry?"

Harry took timid steps toward him. "I...wanted to thank you. For standing up for me."

Hiro smiled. "You're welcome."

Harry didn't leave. He took a few more steps toward Hiro. Hiro watched him. Harry had beautiful tall ivory furred ears that turned to grey as they reached his head. A darling pink quivering nose, and doe-soft blue eyes. Hiro felt his shaft thicken inside his sheath.

"No," Harry murmured. He reached out gently, taking Hiro's big paw. "I mean...I wanted to thank you."

The rabbit was hard. Hiro could see it now that his paws were out of the way. So it was like that, he thought. Hiro wasn't that surprised. He'd gotten used to being oggled and offered sex at the drop of a hat ever since high school. At first, as he began to pack on size, Hiro was astonished at the change that came over the people he knew. Friends became fans, and then worshipers. Random strangers on the street stopped him to admire his arms, his chest, to ask how much he benched. Once in college, jocks assumed he was one of them. Hiro was invited to all the frat parties, to proms and homecomings. Coaches all but begged him to be on their teams. None of them understood why Hiro preferred the company of the nerds, the geeks, the writers, poets, and shy soft-spoken misfits.

Hiro knelt. Harry ran into his arms. For a few moments, he just hugged the quivering whimpering little rabbit, stroking those lovely ears.

"Nobody's ever done something like that for me," Harry whispered.

"Don't worry, Harry. I'll keep looking out for you," Hiro assured him.

"Oh Hiro," Harry moaned.

"Shhhhh."

They kissed, long and tenderly under the cold water. Hiro's cock responded. It thrust out thick and red, pointed like a spear. Harry broke the kiss with Hiro's mouth to smooch down his neck, over his bulging pectorals, down the wall of his abs. Hiro shut his eyes. The cunning soft rabbit mouth started to suckle his tip.

"Mmmnnh," he said, biting his lip, trying hard not to be too loud.

Harry pushed his muzzle down deeper, as though tasting a juicy big carrot. He bobbed his head with the easy rhythm of a practiced sucker. Hiro grinned. With those adorable looks and tight little ass, he was sure Harry'd done more than a few rounds at the gay bars. He put a paw on the back of Harry's soft furry head. Started to gently buck his hips back into the rabbit's suckling. Harry grunted out a soft happy beat. His small paws slid adoringly along Hiro's rippling thighs to his glutes.

Hiro tilted his head back, panting. "Can you go harder?" he whispered.

Harry doubled his efforts. Hiro hugged Harry's head to his big waist. Each time Harry pulled back, Hiro rose up to this tip toes from the pleasure. Harry grabbed his ass cheeks hard. Mewled out his orgasm around Hiro's sheath so that his tender voice vibrated Hiro's shaft. It sent Hiro over the edge himself.

Guys were always surprised by how much Hiro could produce. Some had even nicknamed him "Hiro the Horse" for it. Harry was a trooper. He tried his best to swallow it all, but ended up pulling off and taking three hard spurts to the face.

"H...holy shit, Hiro!"

Harry grinned up at the massive fox. Hiro chuckled. "Good thing we're in a shower, huh?"

Hiro helped Harry to wash himself. Which led to another slow erotic make out session. They left the gym paw in paw, both with a cheerful spring to their steps. A gaggle of mice, other foxes, and a pair of otters waited outside of the glass doors.

"Uh oh," Hiro said with a fond smirk. He pushed open the doors and was instantly assaulted by a pile of enthusiastic small bodies.

"That was incredible, Hiro!" "You're sooo strong!" "Were the big stallions jealous of you?" "Was that, like, a world RECORD?"

Hiro laughed out loud. "Well," he said through his laughter, "it's a personal best!"

"Give us a boost, Hiro!" one of the otters begged.

Hiro rolled his eyes as if it was a chore. "Oh fine. Who's first?"

The two otters hopped up and down and barked. Hiro obliged, lowering himself down on one knee as if doing a set of lunges. They each hugged one of his arms. He stood back up and swung them up into a tall double bicep flex. They otters squeed and swung back and forth.

"Isn't he unbelievable?" one of them chirruped. The small crowd heartily agreed. Hiro smirked. He felt a little cocky.

"Check this out, boys," he said. He extended both arms out straight to the sides, as if the otters weighed nothing. A collective moan rose.

Hiro gave each a ride on his bulging biceps in turn, accepting a few feverish licks and kisses from some of the overly enthusiastic ones. Then he grinned around him, paws on his hips. "Now what brings you guys around here? Usually it's just one or two of you!"

He knew something was up when they all tittered like it was Christmas Day. A sleek brown mouse was urged forward, holding a letter in his paws. "This came in the post for you just today."

"Thanks," Hiro said. "Terrance, right? I didn't recognize you without your mailman truck."

Terrance nodded with a furious blush. Hiro's smile froze when he saw the seal on the envelope - United States Professional Bodybuilder's League.

"Oh shit!" he whispered. His fan boys held their breath while he tore it open and pulled out the crisp letter.

Hiro's silver eyes whipped through the greeting. His voice rose louder and louder with excitement at each line. "Proud to inform you....have passed the minimum requirements....may now audition for and compete in all contests within our league!!"

The crowd erupted into cheers. Piping voices chanted "Hiro! Hiro! Hiro!"

Terry waved down their enthusiasm, and then pulled out another letter. With another, identical, seal on it. Hiro's brow furrowed.

"What's this?"

Terry's mouse tail curled in on itself and he shifted about on his feet. "I know how badly you've been wanting to compete. Being in the post office gives you connections in all sorts of places. I have a brother-in-law who oversees all the correspondents between the national league office and contestants."

Hiro tore open the envelope. Snatched out another letter. He looked up from it with wide eyes, filmed over with an unexpected veil of unshed tears. "You got me into the Pre-Nationals?"

Terry beamed. "Think of it as a late birthday present."

Hiro dove for him, crushed the mouse in a tight hug. Terry glurked and patted his heavy back with a paw, gasping for air.

"...welcome!" he rasped out.

"Sorry," Hiro mumbled, utterly overcome. He stood back up. "I can't wait to show my coach! We're going to need tickets to Chicago. You guys are all going to come see me pose, right?"

"We wouldn't miss it for the world, Hiro!" cooed a much smaller fox, all dreamy-eyed and clutching his paws together.

Hiro's fans said their goodbyes. He waved until they vanished all in a chatter. He looked back down at the letters in his paws and heaved a sigh.

"Congratulations, fox."

Hiro turned to regard Guntur swaggering up to him, a sneer plastered across his black muzzle. "You must think you're pretty hot shit, now."

"Only compared to some," Hiro said.

Guntur stopped in front of him and chuckled. "Let me give you some advice, fox. Now that you're in the big leagues, you'd better be ready to step up your training to a whole new level. I don't want to crush you too easily in the Nationals. Assuming you even make it that far."

"The Nationals? You compete in the Nationals?"

Guntur waved a big paw. "Please. My only real competition comes on the big stage in Las Vegas. And compete, fox? You're looking at the reigning champion four years running."

Guntur took a step back and flexed for Hiro. It was no casual pose. Guntur's body exploded outward. He sucked in his abs to a high arching board of rock hard muscle. His pecs rolled up and out into a perfect shelf of flesh that nearly ripped his muscle shirt. His bulging thighs spread apart in perfect form. His arms rose higher, higher, until a pair of gigantic black mountains framed that darkly confident face. Hiro's jaw dropped. That more than anything seemed to please the huge bear.

"Trick or treat, fox," Guntur growled. He unflexed and wriggled his rippling arms to loosen them up again. "See you on the stage."

***

Burt sipped his espresso while he scanned Hiro's progress chart. He followed the steady upward slope with silent pride. There were lions who couldn't boast Hiro's stats. Burt was no slouch at the weights himself, and despite being just a rat, he had a beautiful barrel chest and some nice pipes to show for it. But Hiro was something else entirely. Hiro's parents were nothing special, to look at them, and yet buried somewhere in those vulpine genes were the makings of a phenomenon.

Burt heard Hiro's cheerful whistle from the open door to the locker rooms and smiled. Right on time. He grabbed his clipboard and met the huge fox as he came swaggering into the weight room.

Hiro beamed at him, a sly half grin. "Hey, there, coach!"

Burt folded his thick arms with a smirk. "What happened?"

"Hm?"

"You look like you just raided a hen house, Hiro. What's up?" Burt asked.

Hiro gave a casual shrug of his meaty, rippling shoulders. "Oh, not much. Except THIS!"

Burt quickly skimmed the letter Hiro held open for him. He set his mouth in a grim line. Shook his head. "Oh, Hiro. You know what this means?"

Hiro blinked and his ears lowered a little. "No, what does it mean?"

Burt couldn't contain himself. He beamed and clapped Hiro's thick delts with his paws. "It means we're going to have to redo your entire training routine, you son of a bitch! You're not going on that stage unless you come home with a medal!"

Hiro laughed with delight and drug Burt into a tight hug. "Thank you, coach. Thank you for everything!"

Burt patted Hiro's thick back, unable to draw breath until the embrace ended.

"I knew you were something special back in high school, kiddo," Burt said. "That's why I left my job there to train you full time. You've just blossomed into this incredible Adonis."

"And I have you to thank," Hiro said.

Burt felt himself blush. He gave Hiro a playful punch in one heavy pectoral. "Don't get mushy on me, champ. We've got work to do!"

The hours passed. Hiro puffed through his skull crushers and tricep machines. When it came time for arm curls, Burt whistled at the weights Hiro loaded on.

"That's more than you've ever done before, Hiro. You don't want to pull something," Burt cautioned.

"Just spot me," Hiro said.

Burt raised his eyebrows, but got behind the huge fox, paws under his elbows. Hiro snarled out rep after rep, biceps surging up under his red and white fur until Burt could trace the outline of the veins. Hiro's whole body trembled with the effort to lift the bar.

"Burt," Hiro growled out. Burt hugged himself against Hiro's bulging back, grabbed his forearms, and together they pumped out another three reps before Hiro gasped and dropped the weights.

"You know something I don't?" Burt asked.

"I know I'm going to have to blast these biceps if I have any chance at winning," Hiro said.

Burt raised his eyebrows. "You've got awesome arms, Hiro."

Hiro snorted. "Please, Burt. These things? They might get me a medal, but they're not going to get me the trophy."

Burt crossed his arms in front of his chest. "You've always been so proud of your arms. Why the change?"

Hiro looked at his tennis shoes. "I had a run in with Guntur, yesterday."

"Guntur? Who's Guntur?"

"Just some egotistical asshole of a sun bear. Who happens to be my competition at the Nationals."

Burt's eyes widened. "You don't mean Guntur Sabah!"

"You know him?" Hiro asked, surprised.

Burt motioned Hiro to follow him to his office. "When you started making noises about competing nationally, I did my homework. Read up on all the standings and the statistics for the last couple of years."

Burt pulled up a web database and did a search. Guntur's name appeared on the top of the page, with a full-length smirking and flexing image of the massive bear down the lefthand side.

"My god, that's him!" Hiro said.

Burt nodded. "National Champion since 2011. A favorite to break onto the international circuit. People are already talking 'Mr. Colossus' around him."

"I don't even have an entry," Hiro said.

Burt looked at him. "I didn't think you cared about things like this," he answered with a gesture at the website.

Hiro sighed. "I don't know, Burt. I mean, I love my life here. I love all the local fans I have. But I'm a national level competitor, now. Shouldn't I have some of what Guntur has?"

"What Guntur has is a lot of distractions for an up-and-coming like you," Burt said. "He can enjoy them because it's easier to stay a champion than unseat one. You're never going to get a shot at doing that unless you can focus."

Burt pushed the power button and the smirking face of Guntur winked to black. "He got to you, didn't he?"

"Maybe a little," Hiro admitted.

"He does that," Burt told him. He pointed to the side of his own head. "Psychological warfare. Guntur knows bodybuilding is more mental than physical, so he plays dirty by messing with his opponent's minds. The fact that he came after you means he sees you as a serious challenge."

Hiro blinked. "You think so?"

"Trust me, Hiro. I know his type. If he hadn't seen you as a threat, he wouldn't have bothered."

Hiro straightened up a little. A small grin crossed his muzzle. "That helps, Burt. Thank you!"

Burt opened his arms. "It's why I'm here, kiddo. Now," he clapped a paw to Hiro's bulging back. "Let's go back to work so you can kick big sun bear ass!"

***

Hiro staggered into his bedroom and collapsed. His bulging pecs heaved against the straps of his muscle shirt. Burt was some kind of sadist, he decided. Every inch of him still screamed whenever he tried to move, and the half gallon protein shake hed' downed barely dented his hunger. Hiro moaned and put a paw to his eyes. Through his fingers, he looked up at the framed photo of a towering, godly bull grinning at the camera as he presented his magnificent oiled arms to one side of his body. The quality of the color was typical late 1970's, and digital retouching couldn't entirely mask all the flaws. It was Lawrence Tavoro, from the glory days of bodybuilding's golden age, when he was at the peak of his career.

"Oh, Lawrence," Hiro said to the photo. "I don't know how the hell you did this for ten years."

Hiro forced himself to get up and limp to the bathroom. He hadn't thought it was possible to limp with two legs before today. Maybe a hot shower would help. Under the steaming water, Hiro's mind drifted. He was a kit again, sifting through a sports encyclopedia at his uncle's house in Maine. When he got to the "B" section, there was a full two page article on bodybuilding, complete with color photos. One of them had been Lawrence Tavoro. It was love at first sight.

That next Christmas, Hiro had begged for a weight set. His mother and father thought it was a phase until Hiro's biceps started to swell with noticeable size in a matter of months. Lawrence had been there for Hiro from the beginning, or at least his picture had. Hiro had even written him once. He'd never gotten a reply, but it still felt good.

There was a text message waiting for Hiro when he stepped out of the shower to mix up his pre-bed mass drink. The otter twins wanted to know if Hiro was all lonely and sore. Hiro smiled.

Reggie and his younger brother by five minutes, Rockie, were wiggling in their shoes when Hiro answered the door.

"Hi, big foxy," Reggie cooed with an adorable little wave.

"We brought you some of your favorite massage oil," Rockie added.

Hiro's eyes were already sagging, but his thick fox cock still responded. He wrapped an otter each under and arm and hugged them inside while they moaned and kissed over and over at his biceps. They sat together on the couch. Rockie dove for Hiro's crotch. The button unsnapped and the fly whizzed downward. Reggie stood on top of Hiro's thick thighs, straddling his brother to make out with his idol. All three started to fill the living room with soft moans.

Hiro winced and huffed. "I actually am really tired, guys," he confessed.

"Aww, did that mean old rat wear you out?" Rockie teased.

"Rockie," Reggie chided. He gave Hiro a sympathetic smile. "Do you want us to go?"

Hiro hugged Reggie to his chest and plunged his tongue deep into the otter's quavering throat. "No," he murred. "Just go easy on me."

So the twins guided the huge fox into his bed, helping him to peel off his musky muscle shirt, pants, and boxers. Then they set to work. Hiro gripped the head of his bed with his paws, groaning and writhing like a fish while two pairs of little eager wet mouths suckled side by side on each of his balls to 'warm him up.' Then they formed a tongue sandwich up his throbbing big red shaft and took turns kissing the head. Hiro barked and squirted precum onto his abs.

"I think he's a little pent up, brother," Reggie said to Rockie.

Hiro cracked open one eye to face a pair of evilly grinning naked otters, their muscular tails slowly wagging.

"Oh no you don't," Hiro said. "I can't fuck tonight, guys. Really. I don't have it in me!"

"Now, who said anything about fucking?" Rockie purred, gently massaging Hiro's shaft up and down between both his paws before hugging it to his firm soft furry chest.

"You just lie back, darling, and let us ride you," Reggie assured him with a little pat to his abs.

"I can't!" Hiro protested.

The otters ignored him. Reggie popped open the oil and rubbed it all over his paws. "Relax, big foxy. We know what we're doing. We know what you need."

Rockie raised his tail. He wriggled his tight perky little furred ass down over the drooling pointed tip and let out a gentle mewl of delight when it slid inside.

"Fuck, you're tight," Hiro whispered.

"Mmmm, you always say that," Rockie said.

With Rockie slowly grinding himself downward over inch after twitching inch of fox dick, Reggie smeared his little paws in firm circles over the boulders of Hiro's abdominals.

"Ohhh...." Hiro breathed.

"Feel good, big man?" Rockie moaned back.

"So good," Hiro agreed in a happy whisper.

"See? Otters know best," Reggie confirmed with a sly smile.

Hiro pulled Reggie back down against him. They made out, exploring each other's mouths and mingling hot panting breaths. Hiro's paws roamed over slender, lithe, firm otter muscle that responded to his every touch. The bottle of oil fell to the floor, forgotten.

Morning came entirely too early for Hiro's taste. He cracked open his silver-grey eyes and smiled at the two murmuring little naked bodies curled snugly against his bulging sides.

"Time to get up, boys," Hiro said.

"Mmmmmm, just another half hour?" Rockie urged in a sleepy whine. He nuzzled along the outer curve of one bulging pectoral. "You're sooo comfy."

Hiro smooched the top of his head. "I have to get back to the gym. You want me even bigger, don't you?"

"Ooooo," Reggie shuddered with a seductive stretch that smeared his rump up against Hiro's other pec. "I don't know if we could handle you any bigger!"

Hiro smirked. "Let me up and you can help me get showered," he said in a tempting sing-song.

The otters leapt from the bed and bounded for the bathroom. Reggie's head peaked back into the doorway a few minutes later.

"Well?"

Hiro yawned and waved a paw at him, nodding. He rose and trod heavily on the vanilla colored bathroom tiles. Rockie was already adjusting the water to a perfect temperature, beads of moisture scattered through his soft brown coat like sequins. Rockie yipped when two bulging arms lifted him off the floor.

"So what did you plan to wash first?" Hiro murred.

"Mmmmfff...." Rockie answered, at a loss for words as Hiro gave his arms a slow flex around Rockie's body.

Reggie tossed a loofa up to his brother while he got to work with a brush along the bulging rolls of Hiro's back. Hiro shut his eyes and let his two attendants work. He didn't even need to touch himself - lifting his arms so they could wash under his pits, flexing his biceps while they moaned and kissed them between washes, bouncing his pecs under their scrubbing paws. Hiro teased the otters into a lustful frenzy and then left them sighing after him in adoration on his doorstep, belly full of breakfast, and fresh gym clothes snug to his big body. He flashed them a wave as he drove out of sight.

***

Guntur gave a snarl of satisfaction when the measuring tape snapped under the strain of his flexed arm.

"So how big?" he demanded.

"It snapped the tape at 25 inches," Warra reported.

"Well, guess!"

The shredded tasmanian devil shrugged. "27? 28?"

Guntur narrowed eyes at him. Warra fidgeted. "You do know that's almost a world record, right?"

"Almost," Guntur spat. He shoved Warra out of the way and lumbered over to the full length mirror. "When I'm done training for this year's nationals, I'd better be the record books, Warra. Or I'm getting a new trainer!"

"You can try," Warra muttered, a bit of his species's infamous temper flaring under his breath. "I'm the best trainer money can by. The only quadruple-A certification in the world. Or did you forget that?"

Guntur shut him up with a double bicep flex that filled the mirror. His lips rose in a smile of satisfaction at the devil's awed silence. "Just let that pathetic jacked up fox try and compete with this!" Guntur bragged.

"He can't," Warra assured Guntur, sidling up beside him. He ran a paw up along Guntur's rippling obliques. "You are a masterpiece, Guntur. You're poised to be the biggest bodybuilder in history!" Warra sighed, tongue lolling a bit in pleasure. "My life's work."

Guntur grinned. He never tired of Warra saying that. He put his paws on his hips, pecs jumping, crashing together. "Even Lawrence Tavoro was never this big!"

"Tavoro didn't have me training him," Warra said with a smug wink.

One powerful arm wrapped Warra closer. "Oh don't flatter yourself, devil," Guntur murred deep in his throat. "It's not the training."

Warra shuddered as Guntur kissed him. So rough and hard, so possessive. Pre flooded his pants in seconds. Guntur snapped his eight pack abs into sharp relief and smeared Warra's muzzle down into them.

"Feel those diamonds, Warra! Thicker and harder than anything ever dreamed of!"

"Oh yes!" Warra moaned. He opened his jaws wide to slurp the abdominal muscles like candy.

"Lower," Guntur commanded in a soft growl.

Warra obeyed. Guntur crushed his head in his paw and Warra barely had time to get his tongue out of the way before his eyes bulged at the throbbing rock hard bear shaft that raped him all the way to his tonsils.

Guntur ignored Warra's blissful writhing. He glared up into the mirror, dripping fangs bared. "I will have the National trophy," he vowed. "And after that....the world stage is MINE!"