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Re-Posting: The Juicehead


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Just a reminder:

You can find BBMikeNJ's stories in the current iteration of the forum by looking here:

https://musclegrowth.net/profile/3125-bbmikenj/content/?type=forums_topic&change_section=1

Ditto, you can find his earlier stories in the pre-2007 Archive by searching the Author Index for BBMSN.

https://archive2007.musclegrowth.net/index-byauthor.html

There are a good couple dozen stories that aren't in either place. As time permits (and I'm retired, so a project like this one is right up my alley) I will be re-posting them here (Mike has kindly granted me permission to do so!) -- RPJ

 

The Juicehead

By BBMikeNJ

Prologue

I still remember the first time I saw him at my gym. Big strapping hairy brute of a man. Muscle on top of muscle in a white string tank top, and gray sweats that did nothing to hide his enormous glutes. Or his big package, which flopped around every time he moved. It was almost impossible for me not to stare at him, and to make matters worse, he flexed out in the mirror after every set he did. One pose after another, his veiny, pro bodybuilder quality muscle rippling and swelling with the slightest move. At one point, while he was doing a double bi pose, he saw me looking at him thru the mirror. He winked at me, then chuckled as he went back to posing. It scared the shit out of me, the way he laughed. He reminded me of that guy Eddiebigmuscle on YouTube. Rough and kinda scary, like he could snap your neck without thinking twice about it. Unlike Eddie, who was covered with tattoos, this guy only had one, a big Italian flag on his left arm. When I dared to look at him again, he was doing a lat spread. His lats jutted out an extra foot on each side of his enormous back. I had to get out of there.

On my way out of the gym, I asked Ted, the manager, "Who's the new guy in the back?"

"The juicehead?" he said. "He blows thru here about once a year. I hear he just got out of prison...got a year for dealing gear."

I walked out onto the busy city street and down to the corner. I waited for the light to change with a crowd of people, and when it turned green and we started to walk, I realized my heart was still pounding hard. I hated that I was so attracted to enormous goons who looked like they could pummel the life out of me. I'd been a gymnast in college, and now, at 25, was still fit and trim, but at 5'7, 150lbs, was not match for an ex-con that was about 6'5, 280lbs of solid muscle.

I was about halfway across the street when I heard a voice behind me say, "What's your hurry?" I turned around and saw him looking down at me. It was a chilly day, but he still had on just a tank top and sweats, although now he had a skull cap on his head. I froze in my tracks, and so did he. People moved around him like he was a huge boulder in a stream. Almost everyone did a double take at the massive hulk as they walked by.

"What?" I stammered. I managed to start walking again, and he moved along side of me as we crossed the street.

"I saw you looking at me back at the gym, thought you might want something. Maybe a little cycle or something, looks like you could use a little more size on you."

"Nah, that's ok," I said, walking faster.

"I got some new stuff, would jack you up quick. I've gained 10 solid pounds in a week," he said, keeping up with me easily. "Even making my dick bigger," he boasted.

As we passed a bodega, there was a bike leaning against a parking meter. He went over and got on it. Odd that it wasn't locked, but I assumed it was his bike. I figured he was riding away as he bounced off the curb onto the street and pulled out into traffic. He weaved in and out of cars. I wasn't all that surprised that no one honked at him, ‘cause the dude looked like he could rip a car door right off its hinges. He rode back up on the sidewalk and came up to me again. "Come on, little dude, try one cycle. You know you could use another 30 lbs. of muscle." He gave my arm a hard squeeze and laughed. He rode up ahead of me, making people scatter out of his way on the sidewalk. I heard someone behind me going, "Where's my bike?" I saw two policemen getting out of a parked patrol car up ahead, and assumed they would grab the massive bike thief. Just then, I was passing by a walkway between two office buildings, so I turned into it and headed to the street at the other end of it. I walked fast, hoping that he wouldn't come zooming up to me on the bike, police in pursuit. I continued on home, looking back every now and then. When he didn't show up again, I was relieved, but also disappointed.

That night, I couldn't think of anything but the big juicehead. The way he towered over me in the street, almost menacing in his approach. The way he'd made that bike look so small, his huge legs pedaling around, quads so jacked up you could see the size of them thru his gray sweats. I got into the shower to jack off to him. I imagined him joining me, stripping off his tank top, his big nips and black hairy chest as perfect as the pro wrestler Tyler Reks, only bigger and thicker and stronger. Then he strips off his sweats and exposes his enormous hairy bodybuilder quads and calves, and steps into the shower with me in his jock. As the shower wets his jockstrap, I can see the outline of his thick 9-inch cock. He makes me soap up his immense back and scrub down his 280lbs of muscle. "290," he corrects me, then he strips off his jock and soaps up his hard-on. "Just like back in prison," he says, his voice an octave deeper than mine as he bends me over and fucks the crap outta me. I cum so hard my jizz almost flies up over the showerhead.

That night, in bed, I feel ashamed and dirty. So ashamed and dirty that I jerk off to the thought of being thrown into prison and ending up with the big juicehead as my cellmate.


I went back to the gym the next day at my regular time. "Hey Ted," I said as I swiped my card. "Hey, Rick," he said, barely glancing up from his laptop. He was used to me coming in at this time. Ted was a big dopey jock, and I had the hots for him. He reminded me of Levi Johnston, if Levi was a solid 240lbs of muscle. Ted was real friendly and had a laid-backed confidence that seems to come with that 'big jock' territory.

I went to the locker room to change, and when I came out, I headed for the stairs that led up to the second floor of the gym, where all the cardio equipment was. I try to do at least a ten minute warm-up on the treadmill before lifting, and then maybe more at the end of my workout, depending on time. As I turned the corner to the stairwell, there was the big juicehead from yesterday. Only he wasn't alone. He was on the stairs, intertwined with Jessica, one of the personal trainers at the gym. They were making out like two teenagers in heat, sprawled halfway across the stairs, making it next to impossible to get past them. I could see where a straight guy would find Jessica hot, with her long dark hair and big fake tits. She looked like J-Woww from the Jersey Shore. The juicehead was kissing her deep, and groping her tits so hard he was practically lifting her off her feet. At one point, they stopped kissing, and Jessica said, "Ohhh, Ant Knee, Ant Knee". It took me a second to realize that she was saying "Anthony" in her thick Brooklyn accent.

I found myself frozen in place. I wasn't quite sure if I should say anything, or just try to squeeze by them on the steps. Suddenly, I heard a voice behind me say, "Come on, guys, get a room. People have to use the stairs" It was Ted. Jessica and the big brute broke their embrace and looked over at us. "Oh, sorry Teddy," said Jessica, pushing her mussed up hair out of her face. I knew that she and Ted had gone out together a couple of months ago, so it couldn't have been easy for him to see her being mauled by the 290 lb. musclehead, but when I looked back at him he just rolled his eyes at me.

"Yeah, sorry about that, bro," said Anthony. He leaned back against the wall of the stairway and made an exaggerated sweep with his big left arm, while he adjusted the crotch of his sweats with his right hand. "Go ahead, little dude," he said to me. I made my way up the steps, trying not to look at either one of them.

The cardio area has a row of treadmills facing out a wall of windows. I went over to one and started my usual workout. I wasn't on it for a minute when I heard someone getting on the treadmill right next to me. It seemed odd, given that there were a lot of empty treadmills that weren't next to anyone. Then I looked over and saw 'Ant Knee', dropping his gym bag next to the treadmill and climbing on. My heart started pounding faster than it should have given the pace I was walking at. God, he was huge. I heard the poor treadmill creak as he stepped onto the sides of it. He turned it on, set the speed, and raised up the angle. I had to look over and see what he set it for....6 mph at a 15% angle. I looked up at him, and he was staring right at me as he put his feet on the belt and started walking.

"Where'd ya go yesterday, little dude?" he asked me. I disliked that he was calling me that, and especially because it turned me on.

"I had to get home," I said. "Did the police stop you?"

He laughed. "Those two schlubs are customers of mine. After a month on that shit I was telling you about, they're both busting the seams of their uniforms with new muscle. They stopped me yesterday so they could thank me."

I looked at him in disbelief, but I knew he wasn't making it up. We walked for a couple of minutes in silence, but then I said to him, "I wouldn't have pictured you as the type to do much cardio."

He chuckled again and said, "Yeah, never did till I started on this new gear. Now, just walking bloats my legs with pump. Check this out." He put one foot on each side of the belt. Then he leaned over and pulled up the leg of his sweatpants nearest to me, exposing his big hairy calf muscle. He flexed it, and as it balled up, the muscle jutted out to the side like the peak of a biceps, big and thick as Erik Fankhouser, if Erik was 6'5" tall. "20 inches cold," he said. "They'll swell to 22 by the time I'm done here. Then I go down and work them on the calf machine. Blast the shit outta them. And you should see the quads, little dude. I always had big veins. Now I got rivers of them. Rivers. I can feel them throb in between sets. And the sweep of the muscle is friggen mind-blowing. I could out-flex a pro with these legs, and they're just getting bigger. And now it's time to get them burning."

He raised the angle of the treadmill to 20%, upped the speed to 12 mph, and started jogging. I was holding onto the arm bars to keep from sliding right off my machine. The thump-thump-thump of his huge Fankhouser-sized legs hitting the belt was pounding into my head. I stepped off my machine and turned it off.

"You done already?" he said with a smirk as he jogged harder. His face was glistening with sweat, a bead of it rolling down thru his thick stubble.

"Yeah, I gotta get going," I said, my head spinning.

"Don't hurt yourself, little dude. Anytime you need a little boost, just ask." And he winked at me. I wasn't even hard, but I was pretty sure I came a little in my shorts.

I started my workout, although I was pretty much just going thru the motions. All I could think about was the big juicehead upstairs. After about a half hour, he came down. It was worse than I'd imagined...or better, depending on how you looked at it...or him. His white string tank was wet with sweat, and clung to his big torso like a thin skin. At the first mirror he hit, he stopped and started posing. His double bi shot made the tank slide up his abs, exposing the bottom of his rock hard, flat-as-a-board stomach. My eyes were pulled to his ass, where his big globe glutes had sucked the fabric into his deep crack, which was totally soaked thru with his ass sweat.

He went over to the squat rack and loaded the bar with a 100-lb. plate on each side. He did a 20 rep warm-up set with 245. Then he added 200 more pounds, and did another 20 reps. Then he added another 200lbs, bringing the bar to 645. But before he did his set, he pulled his tank off, wiped himself down with it, and tossed it aside. Then he pulled his sweatpants up over his calves and flexed them sideways in the mirror. Then he hit a most-muscular pose in the mirror, growling as he leaned toward his reflection. His back muscles rolled and swelled with size, especially up by his scapulas, where it looked like two musclebound aliens were trying to bust thru the skin, mounding and writhing with power. Then he ducked under the bar, rested it on his thick neck and traps, and did 15 slow, deep reps. He racked the bar and picked up his wet tank, wiping his face off. His chest heaved up and down as sweat matted his thick chest hair and rolled down his torso.

I tried to focus on my own workout, but it wasn't easy. I heard him loading more 100-lb. plates to the bar, and got dizzy as I heard the heavy plates clanging as he banged out more reps. I did some sets of my own in another part of the gym, and the next time I looked over at him, he was doing donkey calf raises with the entire stack of the machine, plus four 100-lb. plates added to each side. Sweat was dripping off his nose and chin.

I couldn't take anymore. I went into the locker room, opened up my locker, and sat down in front of it, trying to clear my head. I decided not to shower, and just wiped off with my towel. Not that I had sweat that much anyway, but wiping off my face helped bring me back to earth. I tossed the towel into my gym bag and stood up to leave. And there he was, standing at the end of the row of lockers looking at me. Ant Knee.

"You like the show in there, little dude?" His intense leg workout had pumped his whole body up beyond anything I thought possible. Thick veins ran up and down his thick arms and across his delts and chest. He took a couple steps toward me, and I staggered back. "You ever seen anything like this?" he said, sweeping his fingers down his torso. His hairy 8-pack heaved in and out as he breathed. HIs big nips jutted out thru his swirling chest hair. Then he came at me, grabbed me with one hand under my armpit, lifted me like a feather and slammed me up against the lockers, high enough that I was face to face with him. I could smell the thick musk of muscle coming off him, rank and pungent, and entirely intoxicating. "Tell me you don't want size and power like this. This gear is like nothing I ever took before. I can feel it coursing thru my veins, feeding my muscle. Look at this," he said, and he opened the locker next to me and ripped the door off its hinges. Then he squeezed it in his hand and I watched as his fingers made the metal bend and crumple. Then he shoved it into the locker. "This shit has changed my DNA. I am friggen unstoppable. A fucking god. A superior species. Imagine me fighting a normal man...."

"Everything OK in here?" I turned and saw Ted standing at the end of the lockers. I never would have thought that Ted would look small, but right then he did.

"Everything's fine," I said hurriedly.

"You sure?" Ted said with a frown on his face.

"Yeah, Teddy, you heard the man. Go the fuck away," snarled Anthony. Ted took a step toward us.

"It's OK," I said. I did not want to see Ted have to tangle with the massive crazy juicehead. "I had a cramp in my shoulder, Tony's just rubbing it out for me."

"What happened to the locker door?"

"I fell against it when my shoulder cramped."

"That must have been some cramp," said Ted.

"Yeah, it was," I said, "Good thing he was here to help out."

"Uh huh," Ted said suspiciously. As he headed out of the locker room, he said, "You two try not to break anything else, OK?"

"Sure thing, Ted," I said.

When he left, Anthony put me down and said, "I'd break that guy in two."

"Leave him alone. What do you want from me?"

"I want to see what a cycle of my gear would do to a squirt like you. See if I can turn you into a mass monster." He put his hand on my crotch. I was already hard, and his touch made me arch my head back against the lockers. I reached out and put my hands on his lats. I could feel the iron hardness of his muscle. He pressed harder. "Aw yeah, I knew you wanted it. I'll make you big as Branch Warren, and so strong you could take your friend Teddy there and toss him around like a 3rd grader." He rubbed his hand on me harder. "I'll turn you into a god. Then I'll let you try and take me on. Winner take all." I arched into his grip and he squeezed my dick hard. I groaned as I came in my shorts.

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Part 2

I left the gym that day freaking out. Anthony had told me to come back the next day, and he'd have the stuff for me, so I could start my first cycle. I didn't know what to do. I admit that I'd been tempted in the past, who hasn't? But I didn't like doing anything illegal. Not that I never had, but I can't even speed without getting caught. And the whole needle thing. Not that I was afraid of the jab...I was more afraid of the needle breaking off, or causing an infection, or hitting a nerve. According to a website I'd checked out, if you hit your sciatic nerve you could have leg pain for the rest of your life. Just my luck, that's exactly what would happen with my first injection.

By the time I got home, I'd made up my mind. It was a chicken-shit decision, but the next day, I didn't go to the gym. I let a couple days go by, and then I called, and Ted answered. I told him I was putting my membership on hold for a little bit.

"OK," he said. "This doesn't have anything to do with that gearhead that you were hanging out with the other day, does it?"

"No," I lied. "I'm just taking some time off."

"Because he was asking about you the other day, wanted to know your home address."

I almost choked on my own tongue. "Did you give it to him??" I asked nervously.

"Uh, yeah, and then I gave him your social security number and your ATM password."

"OK, OK," I said, picking up on his sarcasm.

"Seriously, Rick, he was really jonesing to get your info. He seemed pissed off about something. If that guy's bothering you, let me know. He seems like bad news to me."

"I appreciate it, thanks." I hung up. I hated that part of me was curious to see what would happen if Ted and Anthony got into it with each other. And part of me regretted not having shown up the other day to start on a cycle. I sort of wondered what it would be like to be 5'7" and 190 pounds of ripped muscle. Or even bigger. I had to shake that thought out of my head, because it wasn't likely to happen.

A month went by, and although I missed the gym, I enjoyed the free time I had to pursue other interests. I thought about joining a different gym, but then I started going out with my friends more, and doing a little more partying. I figured in another month I'd be ready to get back into lifting. Besides, maybe by then Anthony would have moved on, or gotten arrested again. It irked me that every time I thought of him my dick jumped a little bit. And that sometimes I still jerked off while thinking of him.

Then one night, I met up with some my friends at a hot club not too far from my place. The DJ played good music, and it was a real mixed crowd, so even just people-watching made it worth checking out. We got there early, so the place wasn't crowded yet. My friends and I were hanging at the bar, and after about an hour, and a couple of drinks, I heard a woman's voice from behind me saying "Oh Ant Knee". I stopped mid-drink as my stomach did a flip-flop. I put the drink down and turned slowly around to look. There at the corner of the dance floor stood Jessica, leaning against a pole, with Anthony feeling her up. It looked like he was molesting a stripper. His huge arms, which looked a good three or four inches bigger than just a month ago, groped her up and down. He had to have gained 40 lbs. of muscle. His neck looked like a 25-inch steel column that merged with his ox-sized traps. He had on a dark blue lycra tee that looked painted on him. Even from where I was sitting, I could see his finger-sized serratus muscles showing thru it, rippling as he mauled his babe.

"Shit," I said, swirling back toward the bar.

"What's wrong?" asked my friend Jim.

"Nothing. I have to go."

"We just got here. You look like you just saw a ghost." More like Satan, I thought. Jim turned to look over his shoulder toward the dance floor.

"Don't look!" I said.

"Don't look at what?" asked my friend Pat, as he pushed back his bar chair noisily, stood up and turned to look toward the dance floor. "Holy shit, that dude is HUGE," he said loudly.

I pulled some money out of my wallet and put it on the bar. "I'm going....I'll tell you about it tomorrow." I left the club, and once outside, took some deep breaths of the chilly night air. Then I grabbed a cab and headed home. Once inside the cab, I wondered what I was being such a pussy about. It wasn't like I'd done anything wrong. How pissed off could the big juicehead be that I didn't want to do a cycle just because he wanted me to? Although, deep inside, I did want to. That was part of the problem. Anthony was luring me to the dark side, and I wanted to dive in head first, especially if it was him showing me the way. I'd never done anything dark or illegal. I'd never even cheated on a test. Well, maybe once or twice. And who wouldn't want to look even half as good as he looked now? Big strapping musclehead. He was a behemoth, and it looked like it must feel amazing. So huge and strong, and practically having sex right in the middle of the club. Who was going to stop him? Just about the time I was going to tell the cab driver to take me back to the club, we pulled up in front of my place. I paid him and got out. Then I went up to my apartment.

I paced back and forth in my living room. What was I going to do, keep ducking and hiding from it? It sucked. And every time I thought about Anthony in that shirt of his, I'd start to bone up. I thought about how his 8-pack showed thru the thin, stretched out fabric, and even though he had a bit of a roid gut going, when you're a shredded 340 pound super heavyweight, isn't that a given? Besides, I knew I could rub one out just thinking about that tortoise shell gut of his, heaving in and out as he mauled Jessica. So much power. I went into the bathroom and thought about busting one out right into the toilet, but instead, I shook down my hard-on and took a piss. As I was washing my hands, I decided to go back to the club.

As I headed out of the bathroom, my cell phone rang. I grabbed it and answered, "Hello..."

"No one runs out on me twice, you little mutherfucker," said the extremely deep voice at the other end.

"Tony..." I said, nervously. "How'd you get my number? I was just on my way back to the club."

"It's too late for that, cocksucker. ‘Cause what's gonna happen now, is I'm gonna hunt you down like an animal. I will find you, and when you least suspect it, I will pounce you and annihilate you. I used to fuck up guys twice your size when I was 'upstate'. And that's when I only weighed 260. You get a good look at these 25" arms tonight, pipsqueak? These bonecrushers are gonna teach you to disrespect me. I'm flexing one right now. Shit, I bet it's 26"...it's been a whole day since I measured them."

I heard another call coming thru, but I didn't think it was the best time to tell Anthony to hold on. "Hey man, I didn't mean....."

"Shut the fuck up. I am gonna find you and make you my bitch. I used to rip guys open even back then, fuck them so hard, make them bleed. And now my dick is even bigger. This gear I'm on's made it a good two inches thicker, too. And my stamina is thru the roof, even for an Italian stallion like me. But don't worry, no one will hear you screaming, ‘cause I'll have you gagged."

Then he hung up.

My head was spinning. I absentmindedly called my voicemail to retrieve the message. "Hey Rick," said the voice, "it's Ted. I was hoping to catch you. I stopped into the gym tonight to do some billing stuff, and your name and address were the first thing to pop up on the computer. I think maybe Jessica looked up your info for the big galoot she's been seeing. I thought you should know. You sure everything's OK? Call me back."

Now I was in a full tilt panic. I had to leave my apartment. Maybe even the state. Shit, I had to flee the country. I went to my closet and pulled out an overnight bag. I started cramming stuff into it, then zipped it halfway up as I threw on my jacket. I went to the front door and opened it up. There stood Anthony, filling the entire doorway with his mass. He still had his phone in his hand. He tilted his head on his thick bull neck.

"Thinking of going somewhere, little dude?" he said, looking at my bag. "Think again." He tapped me with his hand and sent me flying back into my apartment. He stepped inside. He had to duck his head and turn half sideways to get thru the doorway. He shut the door. Then he locked the deadbolt. I had a heavy oak credenza along the wall. The massive juiced-up brute grabbed the edge between his thumb and index finger and slid it in front of the door, scraping the hardwood floor. There were dark sweat stains under his deep armpits and underneath the jutting pec shelf of his enormous chest. The room already stank of his roided funk. He reached down and undid his big metal belt buckle, and slid his thick leather belt off of his black jeans. I could see his huge quads rolling with muscle. He tossed the belt aside. He undid the top of his jeans, and his roidgut pushed out a little farther. He tilted his head from one side to the other and I heard the crackling of his neck bones. He intertwined his fingers and stretched out his arms until his massive knuckles and elbows cracked. Then he shook out his arms, the dense hard muscle barely moving. He held his right hand up to his face and spit in his palm. Then he reached inside his jeans. He pulled out his dick and let it flop over the top of his jeans. It was nearly the size of my forearm, and it wasn't even hard yet. Pre-cum started oozing out of the big head. He scooped it up in his palm, and started stroking himself.

"It's party time," he said, his eyes glazing over.

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Part 3

The 340-pound muscle freak stood facing me in my living room. His big cock hung out of his jeans like a club-sized pendulum. He saw himself in the mirror on the far wall. He slapped his cock with his big hand, and it sounded like he was slapping a thick pork tenderloin. "The beast leaks pre-cum all day long," he said, stroking himself. His cock looked like all muscle and veins, just like him, and I could see the veins swelling bigger as his big pole engorged. He flexed his free arm in the mirror. "Oh yeah, look how huge I am," he said, never taking his eyes off his reflection. "Twenty-five inch peaked python. Maybe 26 by now, I haven't measured it since yesterday." Then he raised his peak up to his mouth and kissed it. Then he licked it with his big muscular tongue. He stroked his cock and a thick rope of pre-cum flowed out. "Fuck, I'm horny." He took a step toward me, finally taking his focus off the mirror.

"What about Jessica?" I said, in the hopes of not becoming someone's bitch anytime soon.

"She's a cunt. Won't even suck me off. Says it's too big. Won't even put the head in her mouth. Doesn't even want me to fuck her anymore, my dick hurts her. And she kisses like a dead fish. Bet you're a better kisser than she is." He stepped into me and looked down at me, his pec shelf so close to my face that his chest hairs were bristling against my nose. I could feel his body heat pouring off him.

He leaned into me until our noses were touching and said, "Bet I could suck that tongue right outta your throat." He put one big hand on each side of my head. Then he leaned into me and put his mouth on mine. He pried my mouth open. He tilted my head so he could go in deeper. He was a good kisser, with thick full lips and a hot tongue. I'm a real good kisser myself, and when I started kissing back, I heard him groan, and lean into me. It was like being kissed by a huge muscular planet. I reached out and put my hands on his massive traps, stroking the veins with my thumbs. We kissed slower and deeper and harder. I could feel his huge pec slabs bouncing up and down as he leaned into me. Suddenly, he broke off the kiss and leaned back.

Then he pushed me up against the wall, and punched me hard in my sternum, knocking the wind out of me. As I gasped in short quick breaths, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small inhaler. It looked like it had Chinese writing on it. Just as my chest relaxed enough for me to take a big breath, he put the inhaler up to my mouth. I struggled to get away from him, but he held me in a grip of steel and pressed on the inhaler. After I breathed in the mist, he pulled the inhaler away and covered my mouth and nose with his big meaty hand. His fingers were almost twice as thick as mine.

"Let it sink into your lungs, little man. This is all there is to it, no injections needed. Those Chinese think of everything. You'll feel the effects almost immediately, especially this first time." And he was right. I could feel my lungs opening up, the mist spreading thru. When he uncovered my mouth, I took another big breath in, a deeper breath than I'd ever taken in my life. "You feel it already, don't you little fucker?" Not only that, I could see better. It was like I was seeing the world in high definition. He saw my looking around, blinking.

"Oh yeah, it improves your eyesight too. I've got 20/4 vision now. It's gonna jack up every sensation you have, even for sex. Maybe especially for sex. I have stamina you wouldn't even believe...but you're about to find out." He ripped my shirt open. "It's gonna raise your body temperature too. Mine stays at 102 degrees all the time now. That's why I sweat so heavy." And why his hard cock felt like a red hot poker as it swelled against my chest. He grabbed my ears and shoved my mouth down on his cock head. He forced the head into my mouth and I felt his hot pre flooding my throat. "I got this gay doctor who pays me to let him blow me," he said as he casually bobbed my head up and down on his cock. "He sent my blood out to have it tested, and the lab called him and told him to stop sending in bull blood for testing." He chuckled. "Imagine that, I got fuckin' bull blood running thru me. And my bone density is 5 times that of any human. And my DNA? They couldn't even figure out what kind of animal it came from, they told the doc to stop fucking with them. I know what kinda animal it came from," he said, pounding my head harder on his dick, "A totally superior one, that's who."

On the little table next to me, my cell phone beeped that a text was coming thru. Tony grabbed the phone and read the message, while continuing to push my head on his cock with his other hand. Pre-cum was flooding out of him. Tony snorted, then wrapped his fist around my phone. He held it up to my ear and I heard a cracking sound as he began to crush it. Crunch crunch crunch went my phone as Tony closed his big fist around it. He pulled my head off his cock and I watched as he let the pieces crumble to the floor. My vision, enhanced by some intense Chinese chemical, was like looking at the world thru blu-ray glasses. Tony looked more insanely muscular than ever. I couldn't take my eyes off his rippling massiveness. Every bone in my body ached with desire for the freakish cocky bully in front of me.

"Your girlfriend Teddy is on his way over," he said. He sat down on my couch and pulled off his boots. Then he peeled off his jeans. He stood up, and his quads were so huge, my knees almost gave out. I had been with a Polish rugby player once who had massive legs, but they were like toothpicks next to Tony's. And now free from the jeans, they seemed to be swelling out even bigger. Tony saw me looking at them, and shook them out and then FLEXED. I could see every sweeping striating, every fiber, on his 39-inch quads, dancing and rolling up and down his legs. He flexed his calf and it balled up to 26" of deeply split bull muscle. I felt like I could see every molecule of muscle on him.

He strutted over to the front door, his massive glutes rolling with every step, striations flashing up and down the jutting globe-shaped mounds. I felt like my jizz was about to fly clear across the room and hit him in the head. And when he put the hard head of his monster cock against the credenza and used it to push the heavy oak dresser out of the way, I did almost nut. But then there was a knock at the door. "Rick, you in there?" I heard Ted say.

"Now we're gonna have some fun," said Tony, as he undid the deadlock, opened the door, and stepped back. Ted stood there looking intensely hot, in his black "TAPOUT" tee shirt. He'd told me he was doing mixed martial arts and kickboxing on top of his powerlifting training, and was hoping to take the kickboxing to a professional level. He was in insane condition. I sure wouldn't want to fight him.

Ted saw me standing against the wall, and he stepped inside before seeing Tony. But then Tony kicked the door shut so hard, I wasn't sure it would ever open again properly. Ted jumped and turned to see the massive pantless muscle beast with a raging boner staring right at him. Ted took a step back. "What the fuck....." he said. "Are you two guys gay for each other?"

"Why," sneered Tony, "you looking for a date?"

Ted's face grew dark. "I think you oughta get out of here and leave Rick alone."

"Make me," said Tony, and he flexed into a most-muscular pose, and he swelled so much inside his lycra shirt that the fabric became semitransparent. Then Tony flared his arms outward and brought them in again, and his mounding back muscle tore the shirt right up the middle. Then he grabbed the front collar of the shirt and ripped it open, shredding the shirt to pieces and letting it fall to the floor.

"Jesus," said Ted, as he watched the massive superheavyweight muscle of Tony's freak body rippling with superhuman power. Tony took a step toward Ted, who reared back and punched Tony in the jaw. Tony's head barely moved. Instead, he just smiled, and tapped his chin with his finger, inviting Ted to try again. Ted shook out his hand, made a fist, and punched Tony square in the jaw again. No effect on Tony, but it sounded like Ted might have broken some hand bones. Tony raised his huge arms out to his sides, parallel to the floor. "Go ahead, punk, take your best shots," he said, motioning with his fingers for Ted to come at him. Ted started pounding Tony's huge torso with body punches like he was working the heavy bag. Tony just grinned the whole time. Then, Ted threw a roundhouse kick that smacked right onto the side of Tony's knee. Tony didn't budge. Didn't even flinch. Instead, he said, "My turn," and he grabbed Ted by his belt and curled him off the ground. Then he tossed Ted into the wall so hard that Ted's hi-top sneakers flew off him. Ted hit the floor, somehow managing to stay on his feet. He came full force at Tony, but Tony turned sideways and clotheslined Ted right across his chest. Ted flipped into the air and did a full 360 before slamming into the ground. Tony leaned over and picked him up, then pressed him overhead. He did ten slow full reps with Ted's bodyweight, then dropped the 260 pound gym manager behind his head like a sack of potatoes. Ted hit the hardwood floor with a thud. Tony sneered at me and rolled his huge delts, making them bulge with ropey muscle. A thick vein ran across each delt that branched into a Y, then branched into two more Y's before turning down into his 26-inch biceps. He turned around and straddled Ted. He leaned over and undid Ted's belt. He picked Ted up, stood him next to the credenza and flipped his torso down on top of it. He pulled Ted's pants down around his knees. Tony stroked his bullcock, letting pre-cum drip all over Ted's ass. He rubbed his dickhead on Ted's glutes till they glistened with pre.

"Gonna breed you like a chick," growled the massive brute.

"Leave him alone," I said, and jumped over the couch and hopping onto Tony's big ape back. I started punching on his thick muscle.

"Oh yeah, bring it on, little dude," he said, as he began to aim his fist-sized cockhead toward Ted's precum soaked ass crack. "It'll just make me fuck him harder." He jammed his cockhead into Ted's ass so hard that the credenza creaked. My punches had no effect on him, he continued to sink his cock into Ted. Then he began to buck into him, back and forth. I felt like I was riding a bronco. A musclebound sweat-drenched ass-fucking bronco. In desperation, I pictured my fist as a rocket, and aimed it right where I figured Tony's kidney would be and PUNCHED. I heard him grunt. "That fuckin' hurt," he said, reaching back and grabbing me by my arm. He lifted me up and slammed me onto the hardwood floor. I rolled away from him and went over toward the couch, grabbed Tony's jeans and pulled out the inhaler. I took a deep puff.

"You little cocksucker," he said, just as he jammed in deep into Ted's ass. He pulled himself out of Ted, then he came at me. As he leaned in for me, I dodged him, and stuck my leg between his ankles. He stumbled and went crashing shoulder first into the brick wall, cracking the mortar and some bricks.

I scurried over to Ted, held the inhaler to his mouth and said, "Take a hit." He breathed in deep and I saw his eyes widen. Then I took another puff myself. My ears started to ring.

Tony brushed broken brick pieces off his shoulder. "The dosage on that shit is one hit per month, little dude. God only knows what's gonna happen to you now. But I'm still gonna fuck you up." As he came at me, I jumped up quick as lightning, whirled around him, and jumped on his back again. I put one arm around his neck, grabbed my forearm with my other hand, and pinned it under my biceps, putting the huge musclefreak into a choke hold. I pulled as hard as I could against his densely muscled 25-inch neck column. He tried to pry my arm off his neck, but I could feel power surging thru my arms and held the hold. Then he turned with me on his back, and ran backwards into the brick wall, so hard that more bricks cracked as I slammed into it.

Ted stood up and pulled up his pants. He came over to us and went to slug Tony, but Tony grabbed him around his neck and lifted him off the ground, choking him and shaking him back and forth. But my hold was having some effect on him, and he lowered Ted to the ground and let go. Ted slammed him in his roid gut, and Tony staggered back, smashing me into the brick wall again. It hurt, but it was also pleasurable. My ears were still ringing from that third puff, and I could feel my arms swelling with power as I tightened my choke hold. Tony went down on one knee, then the other. He tapped on my arm, submitting, but I kept the hold on till he fell face first into the floor.

"Dude, holy shit, you took the guy DOWN," said Ted. I could see that his cock had gotten hard. Tony's lips were blue, but he let out a groan, so I knew he'd come to soon.

I looked at Ted and said, "Should I make him my bitch?" My voice was an octave deeper than it had been earlier. I flexed my arms and felt them harden tighter and bigger than ever. I felt like Superman.

"Oh man, you totally should."

I straddled Tony's big legs. I spit in my hand and stroked my cock as I got ready to top the biggest juicehead I'd ever seen. My cock engorged a good two inches bigger than it ever had. I knelt down and my thighs rested against the hardest glutes I'd ever felt. I bitch-slapped the back of Tony's head and he grunted.

"Wake up, Alice," I said, "you're about to get drilled." I stuck my dick in between his massive glutes, and wondered what might happen when he became fully awake.

More to cum…

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Part 4: Epilogue

When Tony first came to, he threatened to crush my dick, which was deep up his ass, into pulp, just by squeezing his glute muscles together. "I squat 1200 lbs. with those ass cheeks, punk, imagine what I can do to your cock." But when I shoved into him deeper, and tapped against his prostate, his eyes glazed over and he grunted like a bull in heat. Turned out, with all his sensory receptors so extremely heightened by the Chinese gear, Tony liked getting topped. In fact, he ejaculated eight times during the next three hours that I was jackhammering his massive squatbutt. He even got up on all fours so I could tap into him deeper and deeper. He sprayed his milky paste all over the room in thick ropes. That's when we found out that Ted liked getting splattered with hot thick roidcum. Tony would rear back and aim it at him, hitting him square in the chest, so hard that Ted would have to take a few steps back. Then he'd rub the jizz all over his hairy pecs. Made him hard as a rock. Tony even sucked him off a couple times before spraying him again. What a night.

During the next couple months, Tony got into some hardcore training at an underground gym that was financed by his doctor buddy. Last time I saw him, he had grown to 6'9" and 495lbs. The Chinese lab that made the inhalers was sending a private jet to fly him over to China to do some testing with some new gear that they had developed. They also wanted to pay Tony to do some breeding experiments, to see if his superior genetic alterations would be passed on to the next generation. "That sounds crazy," I said to him. "So is this," he said as he flexed his 36-inch arm in my face. I had to agree.

Ted had gotten onto the UFC reality show, where he soundly beat every other competitor, usually in seconds, with one punch or submission hold. Then he took on the coaches of both teams, at the same time, in the first two-on-one fight they had ever televised live. Ted had such superior strength, speed and stamina, that he was able to toy with the two seasoned veterans till they were so dazed they'd forgotten their own names. Both coaches retired from fighting after that. Last time I heard from Ted, he said he was working his way up the K-1 kickboxing ranks, and had his eyes set for taking on Alistair Overeem for the overall championship. He said he'd send me front row tickets, so that when he was wiping the mat with Overeem's face, I'd know it was for me. I said I'd be there.

As for me, I was lifting hard and heavy, with Jessica as my trainer. She did it for free, as long as I provided her with a monthly inhaler. Bitch sure did like packing on muscle, and at 6' tall, 250lbs of shredded mass, she could have entered the heavyweight division of a male bodybuilding contest and won. I'd decided not to compete just yet, although she thought I should. I never seemed to get any taller, but I sure was slabbing on size, and now, at 5'7", weighed in at a granite-hard 365lbs. I was a totally freak. You'd think I'd be too muscular to move, but I was agile enough to do a handstand walk up and down the gym stairs. One weekend for kicks, Jessica and I flew out to Texas to workout at a top pro bodybuilder's gym. I got to pose with him, but felt bad when I looked into the mirror...standing side by side with him, it looked like I was out-flexing a little kid. And I hadn't even workout yet, so I was posing cold. After I lifted, I looked three times his size. Benching 1200 lbs. for 20 reps will do that to you.

I'm not sure I want to get any bigger, but who knows. Tony just sent me an inhaler with the next generation of gear. Maybe 5'7", 400+ lbs. wouldn't be so bad.

The End

 

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10 hours ago, arpeejay said:

Part 4: Epilogue

 

When Tony first came to, he threatened to crush my dick, which was deep up his ass, into pulp, just by squeezing his glute muscles together. "I squat 1200 lbs. with those ass cheeks, punk, imagine what I can do to your cock." But when I shoved into him deeper, and tapped against his prostate, his eyes glazed over and he grunted like a bull in heat. Turned out, with all his sensory receptors so extremely heightened by the Chinese gear, Tony liked getting topped. In fact, he ejaculated eight times during the next three hours that I was jackhammering his massive squatbutt. He even got up on all fours so I could tap into him deeper and deeper. He sprayed his milky paste all over the room in thick ropes. That's when we found out that Ted liked getting splattered with hot thick roidcum. Tony would rear back and aim it at him, hitting him square in the chest, so hard that Ted would have to take a few steps back. Then he'd rub the jizz all over his hairy pecs. Made him hard as a rock. Tony even sucked him off a couple times before spraying him again. What a night.

 

During the next couple months, Tony got into some hardcore training at an underground gym that was financed by his doctor buddy. Last time I saw him, he had grown to 6'9" and 495lbs. The Chinese lab that made the inhalers was sending a private jet to fly him over to China to do some testing with some new gear that they had developed. They also wanted to pay Tony to do some breeding experiments, to see if his superior genetic alterations would be passed on to the next generation. "That sounds crazy," I said to him. "So is this," he said as he flexed his 36-inch arm in my face. I had to agree.

 

Ted had gotten onto the UFC reality show, where he soundly beat every other competitor, usually in seconds, with one punch or submission hold. Then he took on the coaches of both teams, at the same time, in the first two-on-one fight they had ever televised live. Ted had such superior strength, speed and stamina, that he was able to toy with the two seasoned veterans till they were so dazed they'd forgotten their own names. Both coaches retired from fighting after that. Last time I heard from Ted, he said he was working his way up the K-1 kickboxing ranks, and had his eyes set for taking on Alistair Overeem for the overall championship. He said he'd send me front row tickets, so that when he was wiping the mat with Overeem's face, I'd know it was for me. I said I'd be there.

 

As for me, I was lifting hard and heavy, with Jessica as my trainer. She did it for free, as long as I provided her with a monthly inhaler. Bitch sure did like packing on muscle, and at 6' tall, 250lbs of shredded mass, she could have entered the heavyweight division of a male bodybuilding contest and won. I'd decided not to compete just yet, although she thought I should. I never seemed to get any taller, but I sure was slabbing on size, and now, at 5'7", weighed in at a granite-hard 365lbs. I was a totally freak. You'd think I'd be too muscular to move, but I was agile enough to do a handstand walk up and down the gym stairs. One weekend for kicks, Jessica and I flew out to Texas to workout at a top pro bodybuilder's gym. I got to pose with him, but felt bad when I looked into the mirror...standing side by side with him, it looked like I was out-flexing a little kid. And I hadn't even workout yet, so I was posing cold. After I lifted, I looked three times his size. Benching 1200 lbs. for 20 reps will do that to you.

 

I'm not sure I want to get any bigger, but who knows. Tony just sent me an inhaler with the next generation of gear. Maybe 5'7", 400+ lbs. wouldn't be so bad.

 

The End

 

 

 

Hot hot hot 🔥🔥🔥

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