fissionmailed | BIG SWEATY GYM TIMES/TORTURE

[The Nexus gym is particularly loud and noisy today, as someone is in there barking orders like a standard drill sergeant, except the said orders are in Russian. The treadmill is rattling and rolling at a high speed, and there is the sound of feet clopping along on it in their frantic rhythm.

At the back corner upon entry, there is the large, imposing figure of Volgin, still quite large and still very imposing even in casual dress. He is currently overseeing the forced fitness regimen of one of the Raikovs he had come to grow some attachment to (as he is aware of clones in this place, but still grasping the concept). Fed up with this pattern of fattening Raikovs, the Soviet giant is determined to rectify the problem. Once a GRU colonel in charge of his own unit (in this Volgin's particular case), the proper care and maintenance of his men was a high priority and body shape was among those concerns.

No man looked like Volgin at his age without proper self-discipline! Like a good commanding officer, he feels it is his proper duty to keep his men in shape if they are so foolish as to let their discipline slip. There would be consequences.

Starting with this one.

Whenever Raikov's pace slackens, Volgin coolly holds a hand out, and a good electric probe to his asscheek helps him right back along. His face is locked for the time being into a stony indifference. No matter what sounds Raikov makes or how much he complains: There is a price to pay for letting such a beautiful body grow soft, and there will be correction.]

((OOC: Open post, anyone is free to walk in and interact in any way you see fit! Sometimes they're both there, sometimes Ivan is left there and Volgin is off doing something in another room. Pretty briefly, if he's out.))

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[He was still exhausted!

Ivan managed a twelfth--he'd slowed down as it was obviously just tiring. There wasn't pain, just fatigue.]

...

[A snort.]

What kind of crunch was that? Thirteen!

...Nnh... [Thirteen.]

[Barely satisfactory.]

Fourteen.

[Huffs. Fourteen.]

[Volgin is going to keep going until fifty, Raikov. Then probably a few more by a factor of tens if he's feeling a bit determined.

His foot is still on your feet.

What is your course of action?

~~If you give him sexual favors, turn to page 34..~~]

[Ivan chooses to collapse after 34.]

I can't...!

Edited 2011-01-19 04:00 (UTC)

[That's not fifty. Volgin is very visibly displeased with this. Raikov might even be feeling pressure on his feet, bordering on pain. Pain, Volgin had found, was a good motivator. Not unlike spurring a horse.]

You can't what?

[He winced slightly, but made no clear effort to do another crunch.]

Anymore...Colonel...I'm still tired from the running machine...

[A harsh headjerk like a bull tossing its head. Visible, noisy frustration in the form of puffing his breath.]

That is your legs!

This is your stomach!

Your legs are not your stomach!

[Now he was annoyed, but too tired to actually push his point. His brows merely angled to match his frown.]

I'm tired. I haven't eaten in...forever, I'm famished.

[Surprisingly, Volgin releases Raikov's feet.

Unsurprisingly, there is a foot on his stomach. It is not enough to cause pain, but it's there, as a point.]

You whine like a woman.

[A smirk.]

Fine--!! Hey!! [Ivan moves now, grasping the foot with both hands and attempting to heave it and the massive man attached to it off.

He freezes at the comment.]

What did you say?

[Oh, there is some vigor in there after all!]

You whine.

Like a woman.

You fuck like a woman.

[He stared coldly at Volgin, his voice matching the frigid temperature.

An insult he has no experience or evidence to back up.]

[Increased pressure on his stomach. Volgin tone remains cool.]

I would like to dispute that.

[It hurts but he'll ignore it to continue his argument.]

One orgasm and you're done!

I think of it as a challenge.

[He's trying to evade the fact that it does take him a few hours to recover, damn his age...]

How many times... [Press.] I can make you orgasm... Before I am done.

[Ivan's face turned beet-red.]

Are you insulting my stamina? [The foot was starting to hurt now, and he gave a real effort to sidle out from under it.]

You're the one lacking stamina.

[Volgin's foot adjusted accordingly, with enough pain radiating from under his heel that Raikov better have stopped struggling.]

I could finish you in a minute.

[He stopped, glaring daggers at the older man.]

Oh please. You give yourself too much credit.

You're asking for a demonstration.

[That was a very dangerous tone, Raikov.]

[Ivan smirked, daring.]

Without your electricity, Yevgeny?

I decide when its application is necessary.

You couldn't do it in a minute without it.

(no subject)

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