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ID
147500
MD5
90cfede9943a395ff24536ab3c9e2e0d
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1856x1280 (3.35 MB)
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PNG
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tori directed by gridanon
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Description

Stand back when she does flex or the shockwave will blow you away!

Gettar82 is one of the most talented muscle artists online. Most of his work is comedic and not porn so even if you're not into muscle stuff his work could still be worth checking out for the comedy. He's done many different canon characters well and also created his own cast of characters including Tori the hyena. Tori's a fun character and Gettar has done funny scenes with her and her boytoys Jerry and Larry.

This was done using NovelAI's character reference feature.

Tech Talk

I used NovelAI's unlimited gen membership for $25 a month. Note that "unlimited" is kind of a lie, it's only unlimited if you're under a certain resolution and only if you're not using any of the advanced features. Upscaling and other features cost the on-site currency, which the membership gets you 10000 a month. That should be more than enough for a month, but you can burn through it quickly since NAI gens so quickly.

AI Story - Tori Story

The midday sun hammered the city street like a forge, turning the air into a shimmering haze of heat and exhaust. Engines snarled and died one by one as the pack pulled up in perfect formation—twelve bikes, all black and chrome, growling to a halt outside the corner bar. The pavement vibrated under their weight. Conversations on the sidewalk stuttered and stopped. Heads turned. Phones came out.

Then Tori swung off her bike.

The machine actually rose a fraction when her weight left it, suspension sighing in relief. She straightened slowly, deliberately, letting every inch of her height unfurl. Two meters and change of pure, impossible mass. The purple crop top—already a joke of fabric—clung for dear life across a chest so vast it cast its own shadow. Pecs like tectonic plates, round and striated, pushed forward until the cloth gapped, revealing deep, sweat-glistened furrows between them. Below, abs stacked in brutal rows, each one thick enough to balance a drink on.

Her arms hung at her sides, unflexed, yet each bicep was already a swollen, veined globe bigger than most men’s heads. Triceps flared behind like armored wings. Shoulders capped with delts so round and full they looked carved from granite. Thighs—God, those thighs—pushed against frayed denim shorts, quads bulging in teardrop shapes that flexed and shifted with every breath, sweeping out into hamstrings thick as bridge cables.

A ripple of silence spread through the growing crowd. A fox in a tank top dropped his coffee. A pair of otters on the corner froze mid-selfie. Even the pack—hardened riders who’d seen her every day—leaned back on their bikes, grinning like they were watching a private show.

Tori rolled her neck once, slow. The motion sent a wave through traps that rose like mountains to her ears. She inhaled, chest expanding, and the crop top made a soft, threatened creak.

Someone whispered, “Holy shit…”

Another voice, shaky: “She’s bigger than last month.”

Tori heard it—of course she did—and her grin split wide, fangs glinting. “Heh! Y’all act like you ain’t never seen muscle before.”

She stepped forward. The ground didn’t literally shake, but it felt like it should have. Each footfall landed with a heavy, deliberate thud. Heat rolled off her in waves—sun-baked fur, hot skin, faint scent of leather, sweat, and something primal that made throats go dry.

A circle formed without anyone meaning to. Twenty, thirty onlookers now, phones up, eyes wide. A lioness near the front actually took a step back when Tori’s shadow fell over her.

Tori stopped in the center of the street like she owned it. Hands on hips, elbows flaring, lats spreading until her silhouette looked like a cobra hood. She glanced down at herself, then at the crowd, orange eyes gleaming with pure, unfiltered pride.

“Like what you see?” Her voice was low thunder wrapped in velvet. “This? This is me relaxed. I ain’t even flexed yet.”

A collective inhale. Someone muttered, “No way…”

Tori’s grin sharpened. She lifted one arm—slow, teasing, letting everyone watch the unflexed mass shift and roll. Forearm alone thicker than most waists. Veins rose like rivers across golden fur. Then she curled her fist.

The bicep detonated upward.

A soft, wet *pop* of threads straining. The peak rose, split, rounded into a mountain that dwarfed her head. Veins thick as fingers pulsed across it. The crowd gasped as one. Her chest surged in sympathy, pecs jumping forward until the crop top rode high, fabric stretched translucent over nipples hard as steel. The deep cleft between them glistened with fresh sweat.

Tori turned her arm, admiring her own work, tongue touching fang. “Feel that? That’s power. Raw. Untamed. And I’m still holding back.”

She brought the other arm up—double biceps now—and the street went dead silent except for the soft creak of fabric and the click of camera shutters. Both peaks rose higher, higher, until they framed her grinning face like twin suns. Shoulders capped higher, traps swallowing her neck. Her back flared until the crop top’s sides split with a faint rip.

A wolf near the front—tall guy, gym-built—stared slack-jawed. “You’re… you’re not human.”

Tori barked a laugh that rolled like thunder. “Damn right I ain’t. I’m better.”

She dropped the pose just enough to step toward him. The crowd parted instinctively. Close up, she was overwhelming—heat pouring off her skin, scent of hot fur and exertion thick in the air. The wolf had to tilt his head back to meet her eyes.

Tori leaned down, voice a purr that vibrated in his ribs. “Go on. Touch. See if it’s real.”

His hand rose like he was in a trance. Fingers brushed the slope of her right pec. It was burning hot, unyielding as marble under velvet. The muscle twitched—alive, eager—and swelled subtly under his palm, pushing back.

Tori’s breath hitched, just a fraction. “Mmm. Keep going. I like an audience.”

The wolf’s fingers spread wider, tracing the deep groove between pecs. Sweat slicked his palm. The muscle flexed again, thicker, lifting his hand as it rose.

Behind him, the crowd was a sea of wide eyes and dropped jaws. A vixen whispered, “She’s… she’s a goddess.” Phones shook in trembling hands.

Tori straightened, rolling both shoulders. The motion sent another wave through her chest—pecs bouncing heavily, settling higher. She looked out over the crowd, eyes half-lidded, utterly in command.

“Remember this feeling,” she said, voice carrying effortlessly. “Remember looking up at something bigger than you’ll ever be. Because this?” She slapped one massive pec—*thud* like hitting oak. “This is just the warm-up.”

She turned back to her bike, every step making quads explode and sweep against each other. The crowd watched in stunned silence as she swung a leg over the seat—thigh brushing the tank, denting the paint slightly.

Tori glanced over her shoulder, fangs flashing in a final, wicked grin.

“Stick around, babies. When I actually flex… the city’s gonna feel it.”

Engines roared back to life as the pack followed her out, but the crowd stayed frozen long after the thunder faded—still tasting the heat, still seeing those impossible, world-breaking muscles burned into their minds.

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