Match the Quote

[arpeejay]

OK, this one is a GAME -- not a STORY -- but I can't think of any place else to put it!

It's very simple. I will quote passages from well-known Muscle Growth stories, all of which can be found in the pre-2007 Archive, and you supply the author and title.

Authors: Sit on your hands, please!

Purpose: To highlight really great writing! These are all passages I've read hundreds of times because, well, they REALLY, REALLY work for me!

Prize: Hmm, I'm not sure but I'm thinking I'll write a story on a topic of the winner's choosing. Not such a great prize, no, but that's all I've got.

Ready?

1st Quote:

Last day, last dose. This morning I weighed in at two eighty-five, and Roger said, since I was so close, they were giving me another super big dose of the hormone activator to push me to the three hundred pound level and also to see if they could get me to an eighteen inch long hard-on. That means it would reach below my kneecaps or up to the center of my chest, between my pecs. And I say, why not? It's already almost that big, and to be honest, it is a really incredible feeling, being this much bigger than anyone else. Even as far as my muscles go, I look at myself now and I can see that I've got mass and size way over the really big guys, like Paul DeMayo and his buddies, and it feels so good to be so big, to feel this much solid muscle packed on me. And I also love that instead of being all smooth skinned, I have got such great body hair. It makes the muscle and the size of my basket seem so much sexier. It gives me such a feeling of pure, raw male sexual power. And right now I feel that dose they gave me hitting me. Holy shit, this is strong! God, I feel like I'm going to explode. Fuck, man. Oh, fuck. My whole body feels like one huge sex organ that's going to cum in a major, non-stop orgasm. Sorry. I can't write any more right now. Okay. Now I can write again. I hasn't slowed down, but I'm kind of used to it. Roger kept laughing the whole time I was rushing and having the most intense contractions. He kept saying, how does it feel, you big, musclebound, elephant dick piece of fag bait? You're gay, now, you know. You're gay, and you love it and there's not a fucking thing you can do about it, is there? You can't even make yourself want to, can you? That's the sweetest part of all, the most perfect revenge. You'll never bash another gay man, now, will you? And the whole time I knew he was right. He had made me into everything I hated only ten times more so, and all I could think of was how much I love it. I could feel myself swelling up, putting on more mass, getting bigger and heavier even as he was saying that, and I knew how right he was, because I DO love it.

Let the game begin!

[arpeejay]

Oh, yeah, and I think there will be 10 passages altogether. So the winner(s) = whoever correctly identifies the biggest number of passages!

[arpeejay]

2nd Quote:

The guard said this like it was just a fact of life in prison. Like there was nothing he or any other guard could do about the Junk Yard Dawgs. They ruled. The guard continued. "Technically, the weight pen is open to all the prisoners but like I said the Dawgs don't let anyone but them work out in there. A couple of months ago, a new prisoner made the mistake of goin' into the pen and doin' a few curls with one of the barbells. He only got in about three reps when one of the Dawgs grabbed the barbell out of the guy's hands with one arm and threw it 10 feet away. Then, before the pathetic wimp could do anything, the big Dawg started punching his abs and chest, smashing his big fists deep into the poor dude's flesh, just like he was the punching bag. All the Dawgs can bench more than 400 pounds so those punches were real hard. Like a fucking pile driver. Then The Bull walked up behind the new prisoner. After the other Dawg had landed about six devastating punches The Bull told him to stop. Then The Bull wrapped his huge arms around the poor dude's chest and started squeezing. God I wish I could have seen that. The Bull weighs 350 pounds. He can bench 700 pounds and curl 300. He's got a 65 inch chest and 27 inch arms. He's so huge and so strong it's scary. From what I hear, he grabbed the poor guy around his chest and started squeezing, flexing his huge biceps and lats and delts. Instantly a big rush of air blasted out of the dude's lungs. Then you could hear the sound of bones breaking, as The Bull's incredibly strong arms smashed through the poor dude's ribcage. It was like his ribcage was a bunch of toothpicks to The Bull's muscles. As he squeezed the guy's crushed chest, The Bull said in the guy's ear "This pen belongs to The Junkyard Dawgs. If you ain't a Dawg and you come in here the Dawgs will smash your little body like the piece of shit it is." Then The Bull picked the guy up by his armpit with one arm, pressed him up and down a couple of times and threw him about 20 feet out into the crowd of prisoners. The guy went to the prison hospital with internal injuries and eight broken ribs. This all happened in about 30 seconds and none of the guards saw it. Lots of prisoners saw it, but they know better than to squeal on the Junk Yard Dawgs. The Dawgs said the guy got crushed by liftin' a weight that was too heavy for him. So the guy went to the hospital and the Dawgs continued on as normal. The Bull strutted around flexing his big muscles and telling everybody how great it felt to crush the guy's ribcage. The big kid got a real charge out of that. So that's why we have to give you new prisoners this tour. Now you'll know not to fuck with the Dawgs or to get anywhere near their weight pen. Any one of them could snuff you like a bug. The Bull could snuff you with his little finger."

[arpeejay]

3rd Quote:

Troy could hear crackling like the sound of shells breaking as his muscles expanded. His spreading lats pushed his thickening triceps away from his sides. Troy lifted his arm and flexed his bicep in front of his face. It was as big as Marconi's was now. His dick became so long it was grazing the floor as he knelt in front of Marconi. Troy tilted it up to his mouth and sucked the first few inches inside, even though he was finished cumming, it felt good just to know he could do it.

Marconi pulled him to his feet and grabbed the tape measure as he grinned. "Now you really got something to measure, boy." Troy was lost in the warm tingling sensations in his muscles and the feeling of occupying more space. He was as pliable as a doll as Marconi measured him.

"Twenty-eight inch arms. Sixty inch chest. Thirty-three inch thighs. Twenty-four inch calves. Boy, you gonna do some damage if you ever step on stage with the rest of us someday."

[arpeejay]

4th Quote:

"Six hundred fifty pounds??"

"Give or take." He gave me one of his megawatt smiles. "Don't worry, you definitely carry it really well. Soon as you feel back to normal you can come with me and have a look."

I got up immediately -- shaky on my feet, at first -- and followed Max out of the chamber. He had his assistants stay behind as he led me into a darkened examining room and shut the door behind us. I could dimly tell there was a mirror on the far wall of the room. And then Max turned on the lights.

My first impulse was to scream in horror at what I saw in the mirror. It was... well, it wasn't human. I stared for a few seconds, just trying to find my head. The one part of me that hadn't grown significantly, it now sat on my massively thick neck like a melon set on a tree stump. And below it was a physique like nothing I'd ever seen.

As if massive boulders had been piled on top of each other and bolted together in the approximate shape of a man, unearthly slabs of thick, dense muscle bulged obscenely, straining against each other along deeply cut furrows where muscle met muscle. Even standing relatively still my body rippled and flexed -- its steel-cable fibers jumping and tensing fiercely into high relief in response to my slightest, unintentional movements. It was almost hard to see a human shape within the mountain, the living fortress of solid beef that I had become. Having hypertrophied ten times, a dozen times beyond anything nature intended, my body was no longer a structure where muscles existed to power a human frame through its normal movements. No... I was Muscle for the sake of Muscle, plain and simple. I was pointlessly, absurdly, irrationally huge -- a product, a thing: the ultimate technological expression of Freakishly Exploded Human Beef.

"I'm... I'm a monster," I said solemnly, as I looked at the reflection of the hideous being I'd turned into.

"Not a monster," Max said, smiling at me with an insane-looking combination of lust and pride. "A new human paradigm." My gaze met his glowing eyes.

"It just takes a little getting used to," he said. "It's like looking at the ocean for the first time, or confronting the vastness of outer space."

I looked back at myself in the mirror, still trying to somehow humanize and identify with the bizarrely proportioned tower of pulsing, sculpted meat that was -- irreversibly -- the new me.

"Anyway," Max said, "to get the full effect you need to see yourself in motion. Why don't you move around a little, Nate? Hit a few poses."

With absolutely nothing to lose, I swiveled a half-turn to my left, threw back my left leg and raised my right hand in a single-arm biceps pose, instinctively tensing every muscle in my newly-gargantuan body.

Immediately both Max and I began laughing uncontrollably in hysterical shock and delight. The act of flexing hardened my physique into what looked like shimmering, suntanned titanium, and the ridiculously huge muscles of my arms, shoulders, back, thighs and calves inflated cartoonishly, by easily an additional twenty percent. We found ourselves staring at a superhuman, outrageously morphed caricature of strength and virility, and the effect was both insanely comical and overwhelmingly erotic... as the massive bulge in my own tent-canvas loincloth and the one in Max's khaki slacks both attested.

[arpeejay]

5th Quote:

“Your arms are not as muscular as they should be for a man of your size. That must be corrected.” Paul had been proud of his 19” arms but when this man raised his left arm in front of Paul’s face and flexed it, he knew what muscular development was. It wasn’t his puny 19” or even the 28” of Greg Kovac’s arms which had now won him the Mr.O for the last 8 years straight since 2003. It was biceps larger than your head, thicker than your waist, ballooning like water melons so that the arm could not bend past 90 degrees. It was a war between plates of muscle battling for territory into which to flex and expand. It was something that had been beyond Paul’s imagination; until now.

“Remove your jeans…….. Your legs are very long and so look thin. They also require more mass. That too must be corrected” Paul looked at this man’s legs encased in tight denim. The thick cloth did nothing to hide their monstrous size nor the deep cuts between the slabs of muscle. As he shifted his weight on his feet, great waves of contractions caused the material to stretch and distort. It revealed to Paul, when compared to real muscle, how inadequate his body actually was.

What was happening to him. Paul was getting frightened and excited. This place was turning out to be some kind of Balkan “Island of Dr. Moreau” and that he was about to become one of the experiments. What they could do to him terrified him, yet the implication was that the guards, and probably this man too, were part of the experiment. If so, the thought of becoming like them was filling his pheromone twisted mind with insatiable lust.

Paul was becoming incoherent; the proximity of this man was turning him on, overwhelming his senses and reason; he was becoming blinded by lust. The man smiled; he knew his power and enjoyed using it. He could bend any man’s will to his. It was a side effect of his change, his sweat exuded vast quantities of pheromones which triggered uncontrollable sexual urges in those men exposed to it.

With his thick fingers, he casually rubbed his crotch through the heavy denim. He held his hand up to Paul’s face and shoved two of the fingers into his mouth. It was like Paul had been given a mouthful of pure testosterone. His cock swelled to its full 8” and he grabbed the man’s hand and began licking it. He need more and started sucking at the man’s arm, licking the sweat from his skin and washing the dense black hair with his tongue, getting more and more lust crazed as he drank more of the pheromone doped sweat. He tried to grab the man around the chest, to get as much of his body in contact with this behemoth’s, but even his huge arm span was insufficient to encircle that barrel chest. He was becoming frantic. The man pushed him back and held him at arms length.

“Tell me what you want “ said the man fixing his eyes on Paul’s eyes. “What do you need”

Paul was finding it difficult to think. All he knew was that he wanted this man, to feel his power and strength inside him, to please him, to be like this hulk. When he tried to speak the only word he could frame was

“Muscle”

[arpeejay]

6th Quote:

Adam stood in Trib’s room. His torso earthquaked against the wall in that curl that only truly massive TITAN LORDS can have.

He slouched away from the wall on the stone cold floor feeling imposingly huge-porned with his 404 lbs.

His feet parted about 3 feet on the concrete floor and his legs splayed with shape that strain-tattered the whole of his pants’ greenish-blue hue.

His cock and balls were totemically evident through the threads and he leered at the continental bulge that the hidden spandexed bikini mountained upward unignorably for its press and size.

Trib shifted his own massive naked 273 lbs body back and forth against the gains that black-hole hulkified Adam. He was lesser than Adam now and there was something that drove him out of control. Trib, the 28-year-old Clark Kentish hotrod, caressed the rough face and the universe-throbbing muscles of the inhuman 23-year-old’s bod.

Adam, you are a god, he said.

I am, Trib.

I never dreamed that this is what you’d become, Trib lowed.

But this is what I fucking am, Adam replied, his voice having not the lightest touch of the young man now.

He raised his chest and 84 inches of shredded pec beef exploded upon his throne.

He shifted his weight and the pants shattered back and forth across the swollen ass that rose 24 inches and had all the power that a man-devouring herd of cheetah’s could together provide.

Adam flexed his massive shieldshape and the tanktop he wore violently dissolved so that it now straggled from his 19” traps and shredded down onto his rippled mountainous torso plains.

Trib stared into Adam’s eyes and held Adam’s face letting his thumb roam across Adam’s thick lip, on his cheek and then against his bony nostril. Then his lips were on Adam’s face touching it everywhere like a snake. He pulled back and looked at Adam.

How did you grow so fucking huge, Adam, he said. He untied the waist of Adam’s pants and tugged on them to expose the element that lay largely against the two massively grown 60” thighs. Oh, sweetness, did you even know how glorious it would be to grow so ‘fucking’, ‘fucking’ HUGE, he said with a brutal emphasis on the words following the ‘f’.

Adam brought his hands behind his head and re-swelled his torso inflating into an incomprehensibly vast pose whose 32” arms showed that he was the four monuments of Rushmore all on his own. Oh fucking I feel more than I can feel. He boomed and his body looked like it would’ve withstood the impact of the moon falling to the earth below.

His cock unfolded to 15 inches and he said, You know, Trib. I know what it is to be a God.

And with that, Ponyboy turned Trib’s striated bodybuilt ass-sick mounds over and for the first time drove his mammothicular organ into Trib’s orgasmic home.

[arpeejay]

7th Quote:

Ron and I stood side by side in a relaxed pose. Relaxed, my ass. I was tensing every muscle I could, my arms jutting out to the side from the mindblowing pump I'd gotten backstage. Ron was taller than I was and about 40lbs bigger, but I was gonna take that trophy home with me. When our forearms smacked into each other, I tried to move mine in front of his, but he blocked me. Then I tried to push his out of the way. It didn't even budge. Might as well have tried to move a granite statue. I saw the slightest hint of a smirk on his face. The old man was going for it. 

The head judge called for a double bi. I brought up my arms and crunched them hard as I could. I bounced my arms up and down a little, squeezing the balled up muscle even more. I could feel the burning heat of the muscle as I held the pose. But when I glanced down at the judges, they were all looking at Ron, then at each other, nodding and smiling. I heard the crowd hooting and hollering. I looked over and saw Ron, his arms locked into a double bi...and his peaks had swollen so high that he was able to feel them with his own hands, his 26" guns rising up more than halfway up his forearms. He had a huge grin on his face.

Then they called for a back lat spread. We turned our backs to the crowd, put our hands on our sides, and flared. I could feel my thick lat muscle stretching out, spreading like a cobra hood. But I could feel Ron's shadow next to me. His enormous presence. I could practically taste the alpha male smell of him as his deep pits opened up, spreading his back to the size of a stealth bomber. The huge old fucker was beast. Veins were popping out all over his back. The crowd roared as we compared back muscle. I flared mine out so hard I thought the lats might rip right out of their joints. I was starting to sweat like a pig. I looked over at Ron. The old fuck winked at me. Then he crunched down on his lats even harder. I swear I could hear his muscle spread wider, as his back swelled another couple inches on each side. The massive son of a bitch was kicking my ass.

We turned around to face the crowd, and before the judges could even call for another pose, Ron pulled in his stomach, creating a deep cavern beneath his huge chest. Then, putting his hands on his hips, he slowly forced out his abs, smirking as he flexed into his rope pose. His ab muscles were so thick and dense with fibers that it did look like a rope. But not any old rope...a real thick rope, like you'd see holding a huge ship to a dock. And he was so ripped up that his skin looked like rice paper, so thin and tight against the muscle. The crowd went nuts as he clamped down on the pose, showing off that thick column of granite that ran from his posers to his pecs. He turned from side to side, and people in the audience were actually gasping as he sucked in the sides even deeper. Even the judges were gaping at him, open-mouthed. They went even more nuts when he pinched some skin and moved it up and down, showing the nearly 0% bodyfat he had on his abdomens. A woman in the front row fainted. Two of the judges looked like they were gonna jiz right in their pants.

That's when I did it. I don't know what made me do it, but I knew I had to. I knew Ron had the contest won. Not only was he the biggest, but also the most profoundly muscular man any of us had ever seen. I reached over and put my hand on his flexed ab column. The heat of it sent a jolt thru me. Ron looked at me, his lips curling into an evil grin. I rubbed the skin of his stomach and felt as it moved up and down against his granite abs. The muscle was like a giant cock in my hand, and I began to stroke it up and down. The billy club in Ron's posers began to swell, and he turned toward me. The entire crowd was on its feet. Dude's were jacking. I stroked Ron's ab wall harder, faster. Ron took my other hand and jammed it down his posers. I grabbed a handful of manhood. The posing oil on my hands made his skin feel like satin. I had two handfuls of muscle, one in his posers and one on his ab wall. I could feel each ridged section of his ponderous abs. They were like bricks. Hard and rippling. He crunched down on them, made them even harder.

"Pull out the beast," said Ron. I lifted his swelling dick out of his posers. It was thick and heavy, as solid as he was. It flopped right out of his trunks. He wrapped his big arms around me and pulled me against him. I stuck my face deep into his pec crevice and breathed him in. Who knew an old dude could smell so fucking good. He crushed me into a bearhug. I felt his hardon sliding on my oiled up roidgut as his pecs rolled up and down my face. He released me long enough to rip off my posers. I did the same to his, tossing them down on the stage. He squatted down and put one huge shoulder against my gut.

Then he stood up, lifting all 340lbs of me into the air. I could hear the crowd going ape shit, but they seemed far away, as they watched two buck naked muscleheads leave the stage. "How about we go back to my place and destroy one room at a time?" said Ron. "Works for me," I said. As we passed thru the backstage area, I reached out and grabbed the winner's trophy and took it with us.

[arpeejay]

8th Quote:

Loving how much he affected them, he sometimes made the whole family sit around the TV as he stretched out on the sofa, naked as always, his thick rod curving gently upward, arcing dramatically over his abdomen and dripping man-juice on his sternum. While laying there, his hands clasped together behind his head, he would start flexing his dick, again and again, making it continue to engorge, getting progressively huge, huger, and still longer, thickening as it grew, creeping up over his lower pecs and creating a cum-lake just below his jutting cliff of pec muscle, a lake that eventually overflowed his abs onto the cushion below. "Awww, fuck yeah - just bein' this big gets me so fuckin' boned, man - fuck yeah-h-h! … Nngh!" - as yet another blob of sticky goo splurched from the tip of his vibrating dick.

It wasn't just his cock that he flexed; he flexed everything. His brothers watched hypnotically as his already out-sized, 50-inch thighs seem to thicken as the striations deepened, sending every quad, ham, and glute muscle into high relief. The deeply-etched horseshoe of Tony's triceps were pointing straight at the twins, broad enough to completely hide his biceps until he pulled his elbows forward, giving them a sideways view of equally cut, bulging mound of biceps muscle. While the biggest muscles looked bigger because the flexing emphasized the cuts, it was really only the cock that was getting bigger, and harder, as more and more blood was being forced into the increasingly aroused member each time Tony flexed it harder.., harder…, and harder still. "Man - these huge, fuckin' muscles makes me so fuckin' hard - awww fuck yeah-h-h-h… Nnnn! …, Nnggh!" The whole family, Dad included, watched with their jaws hanging open as Tony's eye-arresting meat got longer, thicker, and harder with every flex, the dripping tip creeping ever closer to his nipples even though he was stretched out on the sofa in an 'abs crunch' position.

The enormous, shiny head had by now turned a deep purple, the whole shaft quivering rapidly as Tony held his last flex. He was clearly about to shoot. Finally, he reached down and gently held his rigid tool between the fingers of one hand and lightly ran them up and down its sensitive underside, moaning his sexual satisfaction while his observers could only stare in disbelief as they watched his cock seem to stretch yet more, the skin thinning to invisibility, giving a yet harder, shinier look.

"Unh…, unnh-h-h…., O! Gees! .., Oh, Fuck! Oh-h-n-n-n-n-n…." Glancing over at the boys, he starts talking. "Do you guys have any idea…" Stroke -- :Un-n-n-n-n-n. "…any idea…, unh-h-h-h.., how good it feels..., unh.., un-n-h-h-h-h… to have a cock that's so-o-o fucking. Unggh! .., huge, and so fucking ---Unn!.. Ungghhh! … un-n-h-h-h …hard that even the lightest touch… " He inhales sharply: "S-S-S-S-s-s-s-s…" and suddenly grabs his cock with both hands and squeezes HARD and "Splooge! … Sploosh!…," he comes, again and again, letting a dozen or so loads sail over his head onto the floor, aiming the rest onto his impossibly high, dense, striated globes of pec muscle. Once he finally settled down, he looks towards his heavily breathing, hard-dick'd watchers, and with one hand still holding his cock straight up, cum still oozing out in plentiful supply, looks significantly back to his cock; the invitation - the command, was clear.

[arpeejay]

9th Quote:

I looked in the mirror at my new body. I was perfect. Five feet ten inches and three hundred twenty pounds of solid muscle. I was huge. No, I was bigger than that. I was freaky. I felt powerful. I flexed my biceps to see the mountains that were my upper arms -- peaked and hard like Everest. My shoulders were two bowling balls sitting atop dense, thick pecs. I made the slabs of chest muscle bounce, showing their striations and the division between the shelf-like upper pecs and the round and firm lower. My pecs hung huge over eight-pack abs -- the cobblestones connecting my nipples and my cock.

My cock, let me tell you about it. There it hung, long and fat between my mighty legs. It was growing and rising as it approved of my magnificent body. As it grew, it bounced against the thick ripped muscles in my thigh. I flexed my abs and legs and my long cock jumped in front of me. I was use to seeing my huge dick, but it always seemed to shock other guys. It had served me well, and now I had it to thank for my new body.

I love my dick.