A commission for  tylerfurlong, continuing his white tiger's adventures in being married to a royal family. This time around, to celebrate the coronation of a new King, Akari has to go up against two devilishly handsome musclebound titans, with only a cheshire and an even more devilishly handsome, beefy lolf to help him.

Akari ©  tylerfurlong
El Toro ©  connercoon
Story © c'est moi

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The Kingdom of the Silver Kitsunes was once a nation of warriors, with long traditions of honorable warfare and fabled samurai. So, when it came time to celebrate the coronation of King Kokaku, recently crowned to take over for his elderly father, Kurai, it came time to perform one of the Kingdom’s oldest traditions from its wartorn past; the Trial of Strength. In the modern day, there was little difference between the Trial and any other Strongman contest, but it was still held with an air of reverence by the people. So when the new King’s brother-in-law, Prince Akari, was chosen as the royal champion, the lumbering white tiger had to endure the tremendous pressure of maintaining the honor of the royal house.

“We’re not saying you have to win the Trial of Strength…” Princess Yami, Akari’s wife, gently said.

“But if you can get into the top three, that would be grand,” Kokaku said. Having served in the Kingdom’s military and trained to claim the throne for years, the new kitsune King cut an impressive, broad-shouldered figure, inching into the territory of an ideal bodybuilder physique, with beefy arms and a neat, v-shaped torso that made for an impressive portrait. “Father left some rather big shoes to fill, and I want to start my reign as auspiciously as possible. I don’t want to drag him out of retirement because of bad publicity.”

Akari scoffed, waving the concerns of his wife and brother-in-law off. “Please, guys, I’ve got this in the bag. I know I’m, uh, not exactly svelte.” He patted his large, keg-like belly, which he thumped like a oversized timpani drum, filling his lap and pressing against the table they were seated around. “But I’ve also got the muscle to carry all this around easy.” He flexed his arm; though not exactly cut and defined like Kokaku’s rippling build, powerful, meaty muscles surged, stretching the black stripes dashed across his body.

Yami and Kokaku exchanged looks. Yami inched closer, patting her husband’s hand. She was a demure, soft-featured vixen, lauded as a great beauty, and already pregnant with her second child with Akari. “Sweetheart, we both know you’re strong, but this particular Trial of Strength, well… it’s attracted some particularly exceptional contestants.”

Akari frowned. “Like who?”

The King stood. “Some of them are already here. As tradition dictates, they have the honor of our hospitality, so you can see them for yourself.” He led the tiger down a corridor to one of the royal palace’s several cavernous meeting rooms.

Akari chuckled, brushing back a strand of his blue hair, his tank of a belly bouncing as he lumbered after Kokaku. “Look, Kokaku, I love you guys, and the kingdom, but let’s face it, the Silver Kitsunes aren’t the hardiest people ever. You guys are more about form, and this body’s built more for function. I don’t think there’s a single person in the kingdom bigger than— oh my God.”

Two massive males dominated the other end of the room, talking casually amongst themselves, but, smirking at one another, glancing in the direction of the gilded mirrors lining the walls, they began to flex, seeing which one was the bigger. The towering pair grunted deeply as each of the posed back and forth; one was a hulk of a bull, dark fur drawn taut over his thick musculature. A broad grin was plastered on his muzzle as he bounced his mammoth pecs, making the muscles dance before letting out a booming laugh. He was dressed all in gaudy red and gold, his jacket open showing the finely cut, marble physique of his torso. Standing across from him was something of a curiosity, a definitively rodent body streak with blonde on his otherwise gray fur. The odd feline aspect in his face and posture made him stand out, but wiht his full pomp of blonde hair and sleeveless leather jacket, he looked somewhat unsuited for such a refined palace. Both his arms were pumped, twin peaks splitting on either side of his head while pushing against his large shoulders and meaty forearms, his bulging thighs rippling under ripped jeans.

“That’s the thing of it; I decided to open up the Trial to those outside the kingdom as well, a goodwill gesture to foreign nations. I got considerably more applicants than I thought I would. The bull is Jose Bravado, also known as El Toro, a famous professional wrestler with a slew of medals and accolades to his name,” Kokaku explained. “And the other is... well, it’s strange, he’s definitely on the list, but we’re not entirely sure how he got there. A one Victor Magnusson; no titles or resume to his name, but look at him. He could eat me for breakfast.”

“And… they’re both in the competition?” Akari asked nervously. They both looked at least a head taller than him, and wider, his gut included.

The King thinned his lips, patting Akari on the shoulder. “You might want to consider hitting the gym. There’s a lot of contestants of their caliber.”

The white tiger was left staring at the other huge contestants that came streaming through, and he began to feel doughy and out of shape just being around them. He slowly began inching towards the exit, until he bumped into what certainly felt like a wall, until he turned around. Akari lit up considerably, relieved to see a familiar face. Two, in fact.

“Your Highness!” the first, a cat with a garish green striped fur coat, bowed graciously, then beamed at Akari. He was dressed in an elegant, if antiquated, suit, his white hair pulled back neatly and his eyes sparkling like sapphires.

“Theo!” Akari turned to what he had been bumped into; a mass of muscle covered in tawny fur. “And Renard! Are you in the competition, too?”

“No!” the hybrid said emphatically. Renard De Fleureaux certainly looked like he could be in the competition; though he wasn’t as tall as Akari, he still filled out his button-down shirt and vest with a vast, rippling physique. His tawny fur and strawberry blonde hair were well-groomed, but the canine hybrid was almost certain Theo was mussing it up on purpose. He sighed, waving it off. “Sorry, sorry. This one over here’s been goading me about it,” Renard jerked his thumb in the cheshire’s direction.

“But, Mr. De Fleureaux! Think of the opportunity. I worked so very hard to get you at just this size,” the feline purred, running a hand over Renard’s beefy arm, claw scratching at his tensed bicep as his other hand ruffled his hair. “This all shouldn’t be hidden away.”

Renard shook the cat off, then ran a hand down his face, before flipping back his hair. “I’m here for academic reasons. When I heard you’d been tapped to represent the royal family, I thought I’d come by and wish you luck.”

“Yeah…” Akari looked back at the room, looking increasingly smaller with the growing number of titanic individuals filling it. “I’m going to need it.”

“No kidding,” Renard muttered. “Half of these guys are bigger than me.”

“That could be easily revised, Mr. De Fleureaux…” Theo purred, his thick tail wrapping around the lolf’s sculpted calf.

Renard shook himself free again. “Enough! I’m betting most of these guys are this big because of you, anyways.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Theo feigned offence. “I am merely here to support my clients; all of them. It’s like a lovely little reunion for me… still filled with so much potential…” the cheshire trailed off, as a horse whose neck had been swallowed by his mountainous traps, tip of his muzzle buried in the cleft of his pecs, lumbered past.

Renard rolled his eyes. “You got a plan to deal with the competition?”

Akari looked down, rubbing the back of his head. “Uh… hit the gym? Hope none of the other contestants use me as a weight?”

Theo and Renard exchanged looks. “Your Royal Highness, if you so wish it, I could offer my services to you,” the Cheshire said.

“Uh-huh.” Renard stepped between the two, his vast, mountainous back cutting Theo from view. “I’m not letting you tamper with Akari unsupervised, Mephistopheles.”

“Why, Mr. De Fleureaux!” Theo gasped. “You wound me.”

Akari, however, perked up. “Wait, so, you’ll help me out?”

Renard grinned, shrugging his vast shoulders. “Ah, you’re a friend. Why not? Meet us at the gym, bright and early tomorrow.” He clapped his hand on Akari’s shoulder, and the tiger balked; he forgot how strong Renard’s grip was. “Got it?”

The tiger sighed, looking back to Victor and Jose, still comparing each other’s muscles. He also remembered that Renard was not the most lenient trainer, and Theo couldn’t be trusted as far as he could be thrown. Still, he couldn’t think of another plan. “Right, of course.” He forced a smile. “Looking forward to it!”

The next morning, Akari groaned as he forced himself out of bed before sunrise. Stumbling out of his royal apartments, he was starting to regret joining the Trial of Strength. When he finally made his way through the sprawling corridors of the palace to the gym, he could already hear the metallic clanking of heavy weights, and the grunts of men hard at work. Bracing himself and taking a deep breath, he strode inside.

“Alright guys, I’m ready to get to work.”

There was a loud clang as Akari quickly realized Renard and Theo were not there; he was face to face with Victor. The huge tigrat loomed over the tiger Prince, smirking as he looked over his own mountainous pecs, straining a black muscle shirt that was stretched thin over his titanic torso. “Well, shit, man, don’t let us stop you.”

“Si,” Jose stood up from the weight bench he had been resting on. It appeared that Victor had been spotting the bull; the barbell was practically drooping under the massive amount of weight plates crammed on either side. The black bovine approached Akari from the other side, the tiger surrounded by the two musclebound behemoths. “Jose was just finishing his set. It is a new, muy impressive record!”

Victor rubbed his chin. “Wait a minute, I’ve seen you somewhere. You’re, uh… a lot burlier than most people around this place.” The tigrat gently smacked Akari’s round middle, making his gut slosh.

Akari could feel the blush filling his cheeks. “Uh… th-thanks?”

“Uno momento, amigo,” Jose spun Akari around, the bull furrowing his brow, trying to think. He then snapped his fingers. “Ah, it has come to Jose! Joo are the Prince, si? The fat one.”

Victor rolled his eyes, that easy-going smirk still plastered across his face as he threw an arm around Akari’s shoulders, his tensed bicep pressing at the back of the tiger’s head. “Ignore him. What brings you down to the gym at this hour, Your Highness?”

Akari’s tail was swishing. These two were already acting like they owned the place. “I came here to work out,” the tiger said a bit stiffly. “I’m getting ready for the competition.”

“Joo?” Jose asked, looking genuinely confused. “But… joo are muy small! And round. And soft…” the bull took an experimental poke at Akari’s gut.

“Hey!” the tiger swatted away the bull’s hand. “It’s anyone’s game!” He flexed his arm, and a respectable amount of muscle, if a little underused as of late, bulged. “I still have a shot.”

“Well, if Jose and I get sick, sure,” Victor’s smirk spread a little wider. “Look, you’re here to work out, and I ain’t going to stop you. But, come on.” Victor flexed his arm in return, his bicep alone swelling as large as Akari’s head. “It’s a little late to play catch-up with the big boys, y’know? I ain’t judgin’, just. If this is about raw strength, the only real competition we’ve seen is between… well, Jose and me.”

Jose pulled Akari to the side, whispering conspiratorially in the tiger’s ear, his heavy, beefy pecs pressing down on Akari. “It is not that much of a competition, senor. Jose is much stronger and handsome than Senor Magnusson.”

“It’s not a secret if I’m right next to you, meathead.” Victor rolled his eyes. “Again, Prince, we’re not trying to be jerks, just… y’know, we’re sort of in a league of our own.”

“You, uh, don’t think…” Akari began timidly, mortified by what he was about to ask. “Y’know. You could just… let me coast by? Look, I’m under a lot of pressure to make the royal family look good. My father-in-law is a former King, it’s not like I can avoid awkward dinners with a participation trophy.”

Victor and Jose exchanged looks. Jose snorted, the bull crossing his arms, peaked biceps digging into his pecs, threatening to snap the thin straps of his workout shirt as his chest billowed out. “Joo would ask Jose to throw a competition? That is cheating, senor! El Toro does not cheat!”

“He’s got a point, pal,” Victor shrugged. “We came a long way to compete. You want us to just let you win? What, because you’re a tubby Prince?”

“N-no!” Akari balked. Victor took a step forward, the tigrat’s massive striped chest bumping against Akari, pushing him back against the weight bench. “Look, it’s just because of my wife, my brother-in-law, they’re counting on me.”

Victor scoffed. “Well… that sounds like a ‘you’ problem. I’m a big believer in meritocracy. You get what you earn.” The tigrat turned to Jose, jerking his head so his cheek brushed against his bulging shoulder. “C’mon, Jose. Let’s find some weights to really push us.”

The bull lit up, beaming wide. “Ooh, like the tanks at the military base, si?”

“I…” Victor trailed off, his golden eyes blinking. “Shit man, really?”

It was Jose’s turn to smirk, with a bounce of his pecs nearly spilling out of his taut shirt, mountainous shoulders rolling. “Joo think it is too much for joo, amigo?”

Victor chuckled, one last glance at Akari before focusing on the bull, the tigrat’s hand tracing down that swollen black traverse of muscle that formed Jose’s back, before slapping his pert, round posterior. “You’re, ah, muy caliente when you’re cocky.”

“Does that mean Jose is always muy caliente?”

Akari exhaled deeply as the two musclebound hunks left, the tiger feeling more out of shape than he had in a long time. He looked nervously at the weight bench, and the astronomical weight piled on the barbell. He had a sinking feeling it was nearly as much as him, if not more. Akari wriggled into place, his belly bouncing, and he gripped the barbell, and pushed with all his might. His strong arms strained and wobbled, and the bar did lift, but clattered back on the rack as the Prince lost his nerve.

“Crap, Akari,” Renard said as he strided into the gym, stretching his arms over his head, biceps framing his hair and face. “You got to start out slower than that for your warm-up.”

The tiger huffed. “Where were you? You told me to be up at the crack of dawn.”

Renard arched his brow. “Jet lag, sorry. I had trouble getting up. Something wrong?”

Akari thinned his lips. “I ran into two of the contestants- the big ones, Victor and Jose.”

“Wow, already?” the lolf whistled low. “Well. Time to get to work, then.”

“It’s no use, isn’t it?” the tiger shook his head, standing from the bench. “Look, I’m… not cut out for this. I thought this was going to be an easy win, right? But I’m just not cut out for… actual competition. I don’t have the stomach for it.” He smiled deprecatingly, smacking his gut. “Just… food.”

Renard rolled his eyes, pushing Akari back on the bench. “Stop that. Just because two meatheads teased you, you’re going to back down? You’re a Prince. Have a little pride, y’know? Your son’s going to be watching, isn’t he?”

The tiger slowly nodded. “Yeah, he will.” He rolled his eyes as he positioned himself. “Alright. Let’s take our best shot.”

Renard could be harsh, when he wanted to. He put Akari through the hardest workout he had known since, well, the last time Renard had served as the royal trainer. Bench presses, dead lifts, squats, and pull-ups; a full-body refresher that left the tiger wheezing as he staggered out of the gym after a couple hours. His aching arms steadied himself as he reached for the palace walls, and desperately began searching for some type of sustenance. As if willed into existence by his hunger, he found Theo as he rounded the corner, the cheshire standing expectantly and smiling wide.

“Gah!” Akari stumbled, almost walking into the technicolor feline.

“Your Highness!” Theo bowed floridly, hooking his arm around the tiger’s as he began walking briskly, Akari catching his breath in an effort to keep up. “How are you this fine day?”

“J-just a little winded… Renard put me through the ringer.”

“Ah-ha. He has a keen desire for power, that one. I see a little bit of myself in him, but Mr. De Fleureaux would never admit it.” Theo winked. “But come, I think I have a more… appetizing course of conversation.”

The cheshire turned a corner, and with a grand flair, gestured to a table that was almost buckling under the amount of food stacked on top of it. Akari could spot all of his favorites; sushi rolls, rice bowls, pizza (which was next to impossible to get in the palace), and a mountain of all his favorite sweets. “I did not know what mood you might be in,” the cheshire explained. “But I have a long memory, and I do remember all your favorites from our time together.”

“Oh… wow.” Akari’s mouth was hanging open as he sat down, salivating as he debated about what to eat first. “I missed you, Theo.”

The feline smiled even wider, patting Akari on the head as he began digging in. “I know, Your Highness.” He watched as the tiger’s aching muscles fueled his hunger, fistfuls of food disappearing into Akari’s eager maw. Theo stroked his goatee, musing to himself. He knew both Victor and Jose, rather intimately, and while he enjoyed their towering egos that stood almost as large as their magnificent physiques, perhaps it would be fun to knock them down a peg. And if it could be done with someone of a less… conventionally muscular physique, that just might make things all the more delightful. He could see Jose’s face now.

The Trial of Strength was a few weeks away, and Victor and Jose, quickly tapped as the favorites to win, spent that time showboating for the media. The people loved it; Jose and Victor were charismatic, handsome, and stronger than could be imagined in the kingdom, pulling off great stunts like lifting up tanks, pulling trains, anything to get a cheer from the audience. Despite being the royal champion, Akari was conspicuous by his absence, made more noticeable by the silence from the palace. The King said little, but was noticeably nervous, saying only. “We continue to have faith that our brother-in-law will do all he can to fight for the crown’s honor.” In private, Kokaku was nervous about how much food Akari ate at Theo’s insistence; it was like before he started exercising all over again.

But the lavish feasts Theo treated Akari to each day were met in intensity by Renard’s workouts. The hybrid proved a brutal taskmaster; he knew what Akari was capable of, and if Theo was going to spoil him rotten, Renard was going to turn things around and make him work for each calorie packed on his frame. It was hard work, but the results were worth it.

On the last night before the competition, Renard and Theo were supervising as Akari powered through his last exercise. “We ran out of weights in the gym,” Renard explained to Theo, who was wearing a knowing smile. “I had to get creative.”

“Indeed, Mr. De Fleureaux. But are you sure your writer side isn’t showing? His Highness literally supporting his brother-in-law… it’s rather poetic justice, wouldn’t you say?” the cheshire mused.

Akari huffed as he pulled up a monumental bronze statue of Kokaku, completed to celebrate the coronation. The tiger’s beefy legs wobbled, but his grip held steady, swollen, pumped biceps pressing in on his rolling, mountainous shoulders and cheeks as he held the statue aloft. With a great relief, he gently set the statue down. “Whew!”

“And that’s it! Good job, Akari,” the lolf said, clasping the tiger’s hand to congratulate him. The lolf had to pull back, wincing slightly. “Geez— you developed a hell of a death grip.”

Akari smirked. “Heh.” He paused to flex his arm, the sheer globe of muscle that was his bicep pumping up until it scraped against his clenched fist. “All thanks to you two. Think I’m ready?”

The two trainers appraised their work. The tiger loomed over both of them, and was now noticeably wider than the lolf and cheshire put together. His build was still dominated by his gargantuan gut, a tankard of a torso that billowed out, resulting in a boulder-like profile, his stripes stretched and warped over the sheer mass of tiger they had to cover now. It was crowned by his meaty chest, a jutting, clefted pair of pecs that was close to brushing against the tiger’s chin. All this was supported by two trunk-like legs, thighs wider than most men’s torsos, but rippling with hard muscle. He didn’t have Jose’s washboard abs or Victor’s exaggerated V-shaped torso, but there was no doubt about it; Akari was built for pure strength.

“You’re going to wipe the floor with them,” Renard declared, giving Akari a thumbs up.

The Trial of Strength began with all the fanfare the Silver Kitsune Kingdom could muster; the King and royal family were in attendance, and the young Prince Kazuki cheered loudly when he saw his dad line up with the other contestants. Akari couldn’t help but wave back, grinning wide as he hoped to give his son a show. He glanced over to Victor and Jose, both of whom were still mugging the camera. It was hard to say which amongst the three was biggest, but Akari had a good feeling.

Drummers wailed on huge Taiko drums to announce the beginning of the Trial of Strength, and the crowd roared their approval. To no one’s surprise, Victor and Jose swept up early victories in a dead even tie, knocking out most of the early competition, but Akari was always just behind them. Soon, the Silver Kitsunes realized that their Royal Champion had a real shot at carrying the day.

The afternoon sun began to cast long shadows, and there were only two events left; a truck pull, and an old-fashioned tug of war. After tallies and points were counted, Akari was going to go up against Jose in the truck pull.

“Any advice?” Akari nervously asked of Renard, who was rubbing his shoulders, prepping him for the challenge. Jose was just across the stadium; the bull had shed his shirt, flexing and bouncing his burgeoning, oiled pecs for the cameras.

“Well, I don’t think you have any reason to be nervous,” the lolf said. “Look at him; he’s impressive, sure, but he’s also top-heavy. Maybe that helps in luchador wrestling, but this is all about core strength and legs. With your melon-sized quads, I think this’ll be a cakewalk.”

“I hope you’re right,” Akari muttered as he stood, stretching his legs one last time before he stepped up to the starting line.

“Joo have grown so much, senor!” Jose snorted, wriggling his beefy, toned body into the harness, a huge sixteen wheeler looming behind him. “But it is not too late. Joo can still drop out, and Jose will be happy to prepare you for next year, maybe? Joo cannot win, when joo are still so fat.”

“Hey,” Akari smacked his gut, as if he banged on a timpani drum. “I’m carrying more than you, Bravado. That means I’ve got a lot more practice.” He gave a toothy grin as he slipped into his own harness. A bell rang, and the contest began in earnest. Jose took the early lead, digging his hooves in, his own legs and vast shoulders rippling as his truck lurched along behind him. The bull made an impressive go, but Akari was quickly closing the gap. The harness dug into his belly, and he could feel the weight of his massive truck at the other end, but he took a look over to his son and wife in the royal box, and he found the will to push on. His massive thighs bulged, rolling off one another with each labored step. His vast back rippled, getting wider than even his gut, and the finishing line was that much closer.

Jose looked over with disbelief as, when he was forced to slow down in the final stretch, Akari, keeping up with his steady pace, chugged past the bull. The hulking tiger crossed the finish line to uproarious applause, throwing off his harness with great relief.

The black bull crossed the finish line just a few seconds later, and as he shrugged off his harness, he had an oddly quizzical look on his face. As the two beefy contestants approached one another to shake hands, Akari frowned. “You, uh. Okay?” Something told the tiger Jose was rarely this pensive.

“It is… strange, si, senor?” the bull said. “Jose cannot remember the last time he lost.” He then smiled again, shaking the tiger’s hand. “But still, Jose is happy for joo! Joo clearly worked hard. Maybe this time next year, joo will even look almost as good as Jose, no?”

Akari tilted his head, but returned the bull’s dazzling smile. “Uh… thanks, I think?”

The Trial of Strength was reaching its climax as Akari prepared to face off against Victor. Whole teams of contestants were divvied up for the tug of war, with Victor and Akari serving as the anchors for each side.

As the sun began to set and spotlights lit up the thick rope, Victor and Akari met to shake hands. The tigrat was sizing the tiger up, arching his brow as he held out his hand.

“So… was asking to cheat your plan A, and this was your backup? Actually bulking up for the competition?” Victor asked. “Though how you put on this much muscle, I’m not sure. Legally, anyways.”

Akari frowned. “What, you think I’ve got steroids or something? We can get a test right now, I’ve got nothing to hide.”

The tigrat held up his hands. “Hey, I’m not throwing around accusations. Trust me, I’ve been through some, ah, interesting competitions myself. Let’s just leave it up to best man wins, yeah?”

Akari nodded curtly, looking down as Victor offered his hand. “Alright.”

The two strongmen readied themselves on either side, their teams of four burly men each dwarfed by their respective anchors. The more savvy contestants realized they were pretty much set dressing; this all came down to the tiger and the rat. The bell sounded, and the contest began. Victor’s arms bulged, biceps digging into his pecs as he pulled with all his might. Akari did the same, his tensed arms the size of truck tires as he held on to the rope with every ounce of his strength. Despite clenched teeth, popped veins, and tensed muscles, the two seemed almost perfectly matched. The rope barely moved, held taut and beginning to fray on the edges as it was pulled on either side by two monstrously strong beasts. As the seconds melted away to minutes, Victor began to waver, and Akari realized; they were practically evenly matched in terms of strength, but Akari was noticeably heavier than the tigrat. Grinning wide, the tiger gave his gut an appreciative pat and dug in, his grip loosening just a bit. Victor felt the rope go lax and pulled with all his might, pulling the rope precariously close to his side, but Akari felt his opponent’s energy was sapped. Slowly walking the rope back, his muscles bunched together, legs and arms bulging, his back rippling as he yanked on the rope, tripping Victor up. The stadium exploded with applause; not only had Akari upheld the dignity of the new King, he just won the Trial for the kingdom.

As the victorious team cheered, patting the Prince on the back and embracing one another, Victor stood up, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head as he offered his hand again. “Hey, so. Congratulations. You won, fair and square.”

Akari grinned, shaking Victor’s hand. “You and Jose took your losses a lot better than I thought you would.”

Victor shrugged his broad shoulders. “Ah, what can I say? We kinda pushed you around back at the gym. Maybe we had it coming. So…” he eyed just how pumped Akari’s beefy arms looked after that much exertion. “Maybe we can work out sometime, and I can see your technique?”

The tiger grinned, throwing his arm around Victor’s shoulders, pinning the tigrat’s head between his peaked bicep and the crest of his belly. “Dinner’s on you, first.” He patted his gut meaningfully. “Being the strongest man in the kingdom works up an appetite.”