PATREON: Muscling Out the Competition- Part 3
Oscar's tried punching above his weight, but when you've gotten as big as he is, there's not a lot of competition left. See how far he has to go right now at Big Stories!
Art by silver-stag
Oscar always thought that he should dress his best for a good victory celebration, but now, he decided all he really needed was the right smile. Nisha, one of the Society's bosses, had just been beaten, and Oscar was celebrating in the only way that seemed suitable these days— chugging Slurp Juice until his tailored suit burst to pieces, flexing his augmented muscles, and admiring himself before he started planning his next move.
In some ways, the fight was so effortless, Oscar didn't feel he earned a celebration. Nisha's rapiers barely scratched his thick skin and coarse fur, and he could grab her blades and snap them while barely flexing the billowing muscles in his swollen arms. It was too easy, and he didn't want to rest on his laurels. But on the other hand, would he really be a Society boss if he didn't indulge?
Even with his suits now being made of spectra fiber and flexweave, they just couldn't contain his now titanic body. Oscar was falling in love with the strength and power brimming in every fiber of his monumental being. His arms had expanded into engorged canons, gigantic with boulder-like biceps and triceps like tires, warping his stripes. His legs would shame any oak tree with their width and density, holding up a sculpted torso that looked as impressive as any piece of land he could buy, his chest jutting out like a shield wall and stone-like abs tightly packed, buttressed by his heaving lats, still billowing out as he drank his last drop.
He tugged on his tie as it unraveled against his pillar of a neck, smiling wide. The Society's founder, Montague, was the only one left; and Oscar was hoping the master thief had some fun toys for him to play with. The tiger's god-like body was still growing, and he was eager to find what limits he could break next.
Art by silver-stag
Oscar always thought that he should dress his best for a good victory celebration, but now, he decided all he really needed was the right smile. Nisha, one of the Society's bosses, had just been beaten, and Oscar was celebrating in the only way that seemed suitable these days— chugging Slurp Juice until his tailored suit burst to pieces, flexing his augmented muscles, and admiring himself before he started planning his next move.
In some ways, the fight was so effortless, Oscar didn't feel he earned a celebration. Nisha's rapiers barely scratched his thick skin and coarse fur, and he could grab her blades and snap them while barely flexing the billowing muscles in his swollen arms. It was too easy, and he didn't want to rest on his laurels. But on the other hand, would he really be a Society boss if he didn't indulge?
Even with his suits now being made of spectra fiber and flexweave, they just couldn't contain his now titanic body. Oscar was falling in love with the strength and power brimming in every fiber of his monumental being. His arms had expanded into engorged canons, gigantic with boulder-like biceps and triceps like tires, warping his stripes. His legs would shame any oak tree with their width and density, holding up a sculpted torso that looked as impressive as any piece of land he could buy, his chest jutting out like a shield wall and stone-like abs tightly packed, buttressed by his heaving lats, still billowing out as he drank his last drop.
He tugged on his tie as it unraveled against his pillar of a neck, smiling wide. The Society's founder, Montague, was the only one left; and Oscar was hoping the master thief had some fun toys for him to play with. The tiger's god-like body was still growing, and he was eager to find what limits he could break next.
Category All / Muscle
Species Tiger
Gender Male
Size 2478 x 1487px
Listed in Folders
Those clothes, costing probably hundreds of dollars reduced to rags unable to cover those steaming mounds of muscle
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