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.))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[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.

[A final press of Raikov's abdomen, his former rumble crescendoing into something very powerful and loud:]

I will do you right here if you keep pressing me further.

Ohh...I'm so scared, Yevgeny. You might fuck me.

[He wouldn't cease his egging, speech faltering slightly from the heavy boot.]

[That had the older man narrowing his eyes.

A beat.

Suddenly, Volgin's foot released, but quickly worked under Raikov's torso to roll him over. If that did not work, Volgin was going to be manhandling Raikov into something on his hands and knees, and ass up.]

[Really, trying to roll him over was fruitless as Ivan decided he'd rather sit up.

Of course that's where manhandling came in, and Raikov found himself in an all-too-familiar position.]

Ah... [Well this was one work out he didn't mind engaging in. Even if his legs were still sore.]

[And Volgin debated for a moment, clutching tightly to Raikov's thighs. Something under his clothes and insulation strained for release, probing for entry against that snowy, little ass hiding under those shorts. Slide a hand over, get ready to tear down that waistband, and...

Raikov was knocked over to his side as Volgin stepped past him.]

I will go relieve myself, Vanya. [His direction indicated the door.] There is a lot to do and a few hours should be enough.

I will have things to prove to you after we're done.

[This was the way Ivan liked to end a work-out. Fucked on an exercise mat where anybody could just walk right in--maybe even join. Those hands on his thighs, trailing upwards, he opened his mouth and--

Hit the floor with a yelp.] Hey, what the hell?!

[Ivan pushed himself back up and turned around, leering.]

You can't just...set me up like that!

I'll be back in five minutes.

[That was all Raikov got as Volgin disappeared out of the gym, bee-lining for the bathroom with long, quick strides.]

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