The Juicehead
by BBMSN
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 latspread. 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 30lbs 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 peddling 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 hardon. "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 jiz 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 290lb 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....6mph 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, "Yeh, 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 Eric 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 mindblowing. I could outflex 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 12mph, 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 100lb 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 100lbs 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 100lbs 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 8pak 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.
"Yeh, 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.
"Yeh, 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 yeh, 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.