The Submissive Muscle Mom

[GreenKnight007]

The Submissive Muscle Mom

By GreenKnight007 (2/23/2020); my first contribution to the community.

Warning: For mature audiences only; this story contains muscle growth, muscle worship, incestuous and sexual relations, and a dominant-submissive relationship.

Intro

I kneeled before him in a scandalously daring bikini, my muscles pumped beyond imagination, eager to do his bidding.  I hung on his every word, practically drooling in anticipation of pleasuring him.  My mind raced...what would he have me do this evening, I wondered.   Suck his cock perhaps while flexing my bicep to majestic heights for his pleasure?  Pump my massive pectoral muscles to the max and flex out of the 4X t-shirt he insisted I wear that was so tight I could barely breathe?  Or maybe it would be wrestling one of his friends from the gym into submission while he watched from the next room on a tiny monitor linked to a hidden cam in my bedroom. 

I need his direction, thrive on his commands, become wet with desire at the sound of his voice and fantasize in every waking moment about his powerful cock.  Four years ago I never dreamed I would be 285 pounds of rippling, bulging, striated female muscle, and a completely submissive sex slave to my... son.  But now, I do everything in my power to make him happy, spend countless hours pumping iron to meet his demands for continued muscle growth, and squeal with pleasure when he cums hard, the way only I can make him cum.  But it wasn't always this way; it started with an innocent encounter.  Oh, by the way...my name is Sara and this is my life as a submissive muscle mom. 

Part 1

It was the seventh anniversary of my husband's passing.  Roger had been the love of my life, a gentle giant that had filled my life with meaning and purpose.  Dark days followed his unexpected death, money was beyond tight, and I was quickly forced to downsize from a comfortable four bedroom suburban home to a tiny two bedroom house in a sketchy neighborhood on a postage stamp sized piece of property.  It was all I could do to keep food on the table on my wages as a librarian.  I was lethargic, uninterested, and life had become mere existence, with little purpose and no direction. 

But there was one bright spot in my meager existence, my son Jack.  I had raised him on my own since his father had passed when Jack was only 11 years old.  I adored Jack, he was such a fine boy, and I smiled, and sometimes cried when I looked into his eyes as I was both proud of him and sad that his father was not here to help raise him in his formative years.  I concentrated all of my efforts on his education, spending many hours tutoring him after school on the hope that someday he could rise above my meager existence.  It paid off in an honors student that received a full scholarship to a wonderful university that would further Jack's education but unfortunately take him away from me for four long years.

But I digress.  What was that innocent encounter to which I alluded earlier that would forever change my life?  It was the evening before Jack would leave for university abroad.  I had worked late hours at the library and arrived home long after dinner time.  I dragged myself up the stairs toward my bedroom to change into my comfy clothes when I heard what sounded like groans or maybe grunts from Jack's room.  Curious, I slowly walked down the hallway toward his room, knowing full well that I should have just left it alone.  I stood in the hallway for a few moments, listening.

"That's it, pump it, pump it harder, make it bigger!" I heard my son say.  "No!  Not big enough!" he said, frustration in his voice.  I crept closer to his bedroom, the door was slightly ajar and I could hear his rapid breathing and grunts that could only be one thing.  I was fascinated and couldn't tear myself away.   My son was obviously masturbating and it had been so long since I had even had a sexual thought, even dared to think back to long gone days of sexual satisfaction with my husband Roger.  I found my body beginning to tingle, awaken with a desire that I had not felt in seven long years.  I closed my eyes and touched myself. 

"Get bigger!" my son suddenly yelled, "I need it harder, now!" he said forcefully, jarring me out of my daydream.  I crept closer still, trying to control my breathing so he would not hear me, and peeked into my son's room.  What I saw would forever change my life.

Jack was lying naked on his bed, flat on his back, but facing away from the door.  He had both hands on what I can only describe as the largest cock I had ever seen in my life, including those in the pornos that Roger had made me watch a few times.  It had to be 10, maybe even 11 inches in length, and thick.  So thick, like beer bottle girth.  I became light headed as blood rushed to other parts of my body. 

"Grrr...not big enough!" he screamed, now in total frustration.  I couldn't believe what he was saying, why was his cock not big enough?  In my view, it was absolutely massive, it would make any male porn star jealous and every woman wet with desire.  "Grow!" he yelled, "Grow!"  He stroked his cock furiously but still had not climaxed.  I couldn't believe he was demanding further growth from his huge, already engorged, throbbing cock, but clearly he was becoming very frustrated.

I held my breath and crept even closer to his bedroom door, eager for a closer look at his massive weapon.  More of the room came into view as I peeked into his bedroom.  Jack had been glancing off to his right several times I had noticed before I had crept even closer and now my gaze followed to the right out of curiosity.  What I saw stunned me. 

Jack had the TV on, and on the screen was the biggest woman I had ever seen.  And I don't mean fat.  This woman was in a skimpy yellow bikini, she had a deep tan and the largest muscles I had ever seen.  She had huge, defined muscle everywhere.  She had muscles bulging in places I never even knew could bulge like that.  The woman was flexing her right bicep and the muscle was exploding from her arm like an air compressor had gone wild within her.

"Dammit, not big enough!" Jack yelled, now angrily.  He let go of his cock and began to sob.  That huge cock never saw release.  I watched, mesmerized at its size, still in shock from all that I had seen and heard.  Jack's glorious cock slowly began to deflate.  I stumbled away from Jack's room, my body still on fire, and now my head totally clouded with the mixed images I had seen.  I fingered myself to orgasm, imagining my legs wrapped around my son's firm, 18 year old body, while his massive cock penetrated deep inside.  I drifted off to sleep before I could even make full sense of what I had seen.

Okay, maybe it wasn't such an "innocent" encounter after all. 

Part 2

The next morning, I helped my son pack and drove him to the airport, never once hinting to him what I had witnessed the night before.  I hugged him dearly in the airport terminal and told him I loved him.  He looked into my eyes and told me he loved me as well and my hearted melted.  It would be the last time I would see him for four years.  Jack had earned a scholarship abroad, but unfortunately, I could not afford airfare to visit or for him to come home, even for a summer.  He would spend the summers abroad working odd jobs to pay for books and other incidentals.  I drove away from the airport in tears, feeling every bit the empty nester that I had become. 

But halfway home, other thoughts, impure thoughts, crept into my mind.  My encounter the evening before had awakened a side of me that had for too long lay dormant, a sexual side.  I quickly became wet with desire and sped home at admittedly unsafe speeds to quell the desire that that was rising within me.  I raced to the bedroom and again furiously masturbated, imagining Jack's huge cock stroking my inner thigh and then plunging deep inside me, filling me...no...stuffing my pussy with so much cock it was almost painful as I stretched to accommodate him.  I came, hard, in a sticky mess of sweat and fluids.  As I drifted off to sleep, I knew that I had it bad.   A lust that I would do everything in my power to satisfy, a desire to lay with my son, to feel his strong body against mine and worship that artillery of manhood that my son was blessed with and that with which I was now obsessed.

I spent days deciphering what I had seen that night and finally it made sense to me.  And further, I formed a plan of action that would see me become the most intensely focused human being on the planet. 

My son is obsessed with muscular women.  There, I had said it.  It had been difficult to acknowledge, but the evidence was clear.  I had wondered at first if he was gay, but quickly dismissed that thought.  After all, it wasn't a man on his TV screen that night and the woman was beautiful from the neck up.  It was hard to fathom the incredible size and density of the woman.  But those images clearly had aroused Jack.   Wait, I had said the woman was beautiful from the neck up, but did Jack see more?  Did he see beauty in the size, strength and power of that woman?  It seems he must have.  The woman must have weighed 200 pounds but there was not an ounce of fat on her body, anywhere at all.  I had no idea the female body could get that big or that defined.

Yet there was something more, why was Jack unable to...finish?  And why would he want an even bigger cock when he couldn't even orgasm with the glorious cock he had?  And it was plenty hard from what I could see.  Then it hit me like a ton of bricks, his yells of frustration, to get bigger, harder, was not in reference to his cock.  It was directed to the muscle woman on his TV screen.   He wanted her to be bigger, more muscular.  In fact, he needed her to be bigger.  So much so that he couldn't even cum to her massive, fully flexed bicep that practically leapt off the TV screen into his bedroom.

A wave of emotions washed over me.  First, I felt so sad for my son, unable to reach orgasm, sad for the level of frustration he must be enduring.  At 18 years old he should have been cumming several times a day but, for whatever reason, my son was hooked on female muscle and even the biggest female bodybuilder I had ever seen could not get him off.   The pent up sexual frustration and inability to release (if my encounter with him was indicative), must be driving him mad.  A tear welled up and rolled down my cheek in sympathy.  My son deserved to be happy, to feel satisfied, including sexually, no matter what type of woman turned him on. 

Then I got mad.  Mad at that muscle woman on the TV screen for not being big enough to satisfy my son.  Mad at her for having small biceps and weak abs that couldn't coax the cum from my son's rock hard cock.  But then, her body wasn't worthy of my son's attention.  Those emotions of sympathy and anger converged and suddenly my mission became clear.  I would become the woman with the muscle size, density, definition and strength my son needed.  I would become the woman to satisfy all of his sexual desires.  And in doing so, I would get what I needed, a different kind of love and adoration from my son, and his 11 inches of thick, hard cock to satisfy my lust.

Part 3

The four years away from my son was both a curse and a blessing.  I missed Jack terribly, but it bought time for me to grow into the woman he desired.  This would be tricky in many respects. 

First, there was the physical aspect.  I looked in the mirror at my 39 year old, 170 pound body and sighed.  At 5-10, I was pretty tall and my frame could accommodate a lot of muscle, it would have to if my plan was to succeed.   But truth be told, I looked like a housewife that had let herself go.  That would have to change.  My breasts were still perky, but there was an unsightly roll of fat over my belly, sagging skin under my arms, dimples of cellulite on my thighs, and I didn't even want to turn around to examine the rear.  I promised myself that, four years from now, I would be looking into a mirror that couldn't even encompass the massive amounts of muscle I would build for my son.   A body bursting with rock hard muscle all over; a body that would put that muscle woman on my son's video to shame for being so tiny compared to me.  Just wait Jack, I thought, I will be that bigger, harder, more pumped muscle woman you need and desire.

In reality, that woman on the screen had huge biceps; but mine needed to be twice that size.  She had sculpted abs; I needed an 8 pack with inch deep grooves between each abdominal block that my son could rub his beautiful cock all over.  She had fake DD-tits that sat upon a shelf of pectoral muscle; I needed massive slabs of pectoral muscle that swelled and rippled with the slightest movement, that created their own cleavage, and that thrust my natural and rather modest C-cup breasts into Jack's face from two feet away.  I needed pecs that could massage his cock to blissful orgasm with a twitch of my muscles.  I needed boulders for glutes that he could grip as he thrust his monster into me while I rode him.  I needed sweeping quads that could envelop his entire body when I wrapped my legs around him and diamond hard calves that bulged like footballs, no, basketballs, that he could lovingly caress for hours.  I became excited at the mere thought of becoming his muscle woman, of fulfilling his muscle fantasies.

Then there was the psychological aspect, a second hurdle I had to overcome, a cultural and societal taboo.  Incest.   It was a cringe-worthy word and a very real obstacle to achieving my goal of being with my son in a much different way than American society, or just about every other society for that matter, finds acceptable.  I loved him very deeply.  Why could I not love him in all ways, especially if I became the only woman capable of satisfying him?  Was that so wrong? 

I had to get into Jack's head and thought of two ways to do this.  I simply needed to build more muscle than he ever dreamed possible that a woman could achieve.  I needed to overwhelm him with so much bulging, rock hard female muscle, that he could not possibly keep his hands off me.  But it was one thing to drive him wild with desire for a super-muscular, perfect (in his mind) female form.  It was quite another to broach an incestuous relationship. I needed something more. 

I thought back to that fateful evening, replaying his words in my head.  Get Bigger, Pump It Harder, I Need It Harder Now!, he had screamed.  Those were not requests.  Those were demands.  No, they were commands.   Dominance!   That was it!  My son was dominant.  He wanted a submissive woman.   It didn't matter how big, how powerful, how muscular she was.  It didn't matter that she could crush him between her massive quads or flex a bicep that could blow through the ceiling; he wanted to command a woman and demanded that she obey.  He wanted to make her grow to a size that would make him splatter a wall six feet away with his cum, bringing him to an orgasm he couldn't possibly achieve with a normal woman or even a regular female bodybuilder.  No, this would take a woman so muscularly massive, so submissive, so sexy that he could not stand to spend a second away from her.  A woman for which he would cross any boundary to be with, to dominate, to touch, to fuck. 

My heart skipped a beat, my pulse raced.  I would become that woman.  I would crawl across the room to him, subservient in every way, every part of my body bulging with obscene amounts of muscle built just for him, to satisfy both his emotional and sexual desires.  No fantasy would be off the table.  His wishes would be my commands.

But there was more.  I could not just thrust myself upon him.  I needed more than just his consent for the relationship that would change our lives forever.  I needed Jack to initiate a sexual relationship between us.  That would wait however, as there was muscle to build.

Part 4

Money was tight, but I prioritized joining the local gym to get familiar with weight training and nutrition.  This became a problem as my body began to change.  This was also the gym that my son used to work out at before he left for university. I recognized some of his friends and knew that I would need to leave before I became too big.  Plus I didn't need men hitting on me as I progressed.  Change was rapid.  Thankfully, my genetics enabled me to make tremendous size and strength gains in very little time.  I wore loose, bulky clothing at the gym to hide my frame from anyone who might recognize me.  But I couldn't hide the poundages I was routinely lifting.  It was a Wednesday afternoon, my second weight training session of the day, when my eyes met Daniel's.  He was a friend of Jack's and I was immediately concerned that he would rat me out. I was curling 75's, my biceps exploding in size and shape under my heavy sweatshirt.  By contrast, Dan, who was in good shape himself, was curling 35's and beginning to struggle in his second set.  I banged out several sets with my warm up weight and was prepared to move on, but when I saw him glance again toward me as I reached for the 100's, I knew my time at the gym was up.   I quickly walked by and mouthed to Dan, "not a word to Jack" and he simply nodded.

I briefly joined a hard core bodybuilding gym several towns over, but really only to make certain necessary "connections."  I did a few workouts there but simply began to attract too much attention as my body packed on dozens of pounds of muscle.   I sold my car, opting to ride my bike to the library and funneled the money into two critical components to my growth progression:  "supplements" and free weights.

I moved my operation to the small, dingy basement of my house, hit the supplements and redoubled my efforts in seclusion.  Months passed and my gains were impressive.  Far gone were the saggy arms, dimpled thighs and belly roll of fat.  Hard, powerful muscle replaced all of that.  Definition would come later, now I needed size, and lots of it.   The tape measure practically whirred through my hand as I packed on inches and inches of size onto my frame over the course of several weeks.  Two years in, I was as big as that bodybuilder woman in my son's video.  I smirked, I would leave her in the dust in a matter of weeks with almost two full years remaining until my son came home.   I blew past her as expected, but there were still a number of male bodybuilders that outclassed me.  That was not acceptable to me.

Hundreds of pounds of additional weights were delivered to my basement and the growth continued.  I scaled back my hours at the library to free up additional hours to build mass.   As year three passed, I started to get excited as I had surpassed the larger male bodybuilders.  No one knew that of course, and only one person special to me would ever see it, but I celebrated the victory and pushed into uncharted territory.  I continued to bulk, and then two months before Jack was due back home, I began to cut.  I had reached massive proportions but his mother's physique would not appeal to Jack's desires if she was not super hard and defined.  He worshipped female bodybuilders, with their immense size and razor sharp definition.  I would deliver on both counts, and then some.

The morning of Jack's return I stepped out of the shower and surveyed my body in the bathroom mirror.  I was absolutely huge.  So much so, I was concerned that I might scare him off.  No woman had any right to be this big, especially at age 43.  I was fortunate to retain my femininity, though I did drop to a B-cup in my cutting phase.  Not that that was of any concern as the gains in my pecs more than made up for the loss of breast tissue.  The slightest of flexes and a deep, muscular, striated chasm formed between my pecs, several inches deep, with my still pert breasts shooting up and outward in all their glory, proudly sitting atop those pecs.  I was becoming aroused just staring at the chest I had created.  I imagined Jack's cock sliding between my pecs, and what it would feel like to massage his huge iron rod with my breasts.  I closed my eyes and could almost feel his fingers dance across the deep crevices that comprised my abdominal muscles.  I went light headed for a moment, giddy with desire, but managed to snap myself back to reality. 

Huge caps of muscles formed my shoulders and the beauty extended down to my arms, which I considered my best body part.  Boulders sat between my forearm and shoulder, just begging to rise to the occasion.  I half flexed my biceps and watched the huge ball of muscle bounce up in immediate response.  Jack will love these arms, I thought to myself.  In truth I was somewhat jealous of that bodybuilder on Jack's TV at first.  After all, she was at least capable of giving my son a worthy erection, even if she could not finish the job.  But I had long ago surpassed her in strength, size, definition and pure hardness.  I'm sure I had over 8 inches of size on her just in my one bicep.  I flexed harder and couldn't wipe the smug grin off my face when I imagined my Jack trying to get hard to her video after seeing me in the flesh.  She's now the queen of the limp dick.  My son will need my size and definition to inflate that monster of his.

Two foot wide quads with deep angular ravines separated all of the muscles in my upper leg and I shook out the muscle a bit and snap flexed all 44 inches of my right quad to attention.  I could crush cinder blocks with ease between my quads or apply the gentlest of massages, whatever my son desired.  My calves jutted out obscenely from my lower legs, diamond hard and ready for service.  My smooth skin, shaved body and natural tan...all over...complete the picture of muscle honed to perfection.  I let down my chestnut hair and it flowed down over my shoulders.  A light bit of makeup to accentuate my natural beauty, a mild perfume with a hint of lavender and I was ready for my son's arrival.  Well except for deciding what to wear.  At 5% body fat, half of which remained in my perky breasts, I could have blown away the big boys on stage.  But I only planned to blow one lucky boy.

A ring of the phone alerted me that Jack and landed at the airport.  I told him he'd have to take the bus as I had sold our car to pay for umm...essentials.  The next 30 minutes would be the most nervous of my life.  Four years is a long time.  What if his tastes in women had changed?  What if I had misread his...desires?  What if...could I...did I have the nerve to go through with this?  But it was too late.  I was covered from head to toe in massive, bulging muscles.  There was simply no going back.  I rehearsed my plan and prayed it would work.   I donned a bright yellow bikini, similar to that of the bodybuilder in Jack's video.  It was a subtle way to invite mental comparisons, which were now overwhelmingly in my favor.   The final touch was a tent of a fuzzy white robe from the big and tall store that could have housed a family of four.   On me it was snug.  But if you didn't have some clue as to what lay underneath, I could pass for fat.  Very fat.  I smiled; my body tingled with excitement.  I was ready.

Part 5

Why Jack knocked on the front door was unclear, he had a key; perhaps so as not to startle me, it had been four long years after all.  This was helpful as I would be able to give him a big hug without giving him a chance to size me up.   I nervously opened the door and...completely lost my composure.  I was so overcome with emotion and joy to see him that I gave hugged him for several minutes and kissed him on the cheek repeatedly, babbling on about how happy I was to see him.  Sure, we had video chatted over the internet, but seeing him in person was different.

Jack looked great, more a man than the boy who had went off to university years ago.  He was dressed in shorts and a polo shirt, and I could tell he had maintained his strong, athletic build.  I stole a glance at the front of his shorts, my mind racing to the monster that lay coiled for action behind the thin fabric, ready to strike at the first sign of female muscle.  My pulse quickened and I went flush with arousal.  We chatted, made small talk and then I told Jack that I was about to lay in the sun in the back yard, and suggested he put a swim suit on and join me.  He hesitated a moment, I think he was trying to figure out just how fat I was but held his tongue and simply muttered sure, that he would join.  I went out on the lawn and stretched out on one of the two lounge chairs which filled the tiny 8x8 patch of grass that was our backyard.  Fortunately though, it was obscured from the neighbors.  They didn't need to see the little, okay big, muscle display that was about to unfold. 

"Hi Mom, I grabbed a couple of iced teas for us," he said as he emerged from the living room.  He was shirtless, his body on proud display.  Oh my, I thought, Jack really looked phenomenal, an even stronger, more muscular build than when he had left.  He sat down on the lounge chair beside me.   I was still wrapped from head to toe in the fluffy robe, that now must have looked a bit odd in the bright sunlight.

"Thanks honey, so sweet of you," I said with a dazzling smile that seemed to put him at ease.  So tell me Jack, did you meet any nice people at school?"   "Sure Mom, a few," he replied non-committedly.

"Oh, anyone special?" I asked with an exaggerated wink at him that made him smile.  Damn he was cute, I thought to myself.  "Well, a couple of girls Mom, but no one really special, in the end they were not my type," he replied wistfully. 

"And what type would that be honey?" I pressed playfully.  "You know, kind hearted...umm generous, and you know...fit," he struggled, as if choosing his words diplomatically.  I wondered if my girth in this silly robe was giving him pause.  Perhaps so as not to offend the "fat" mom he did deeply care for. 

I liked where this was going, but I had to be careful.  I couldn't just strip off my robe, say "ta da, mommy has muscles!" and jump his bones. 

"But they were nice girls Jack and pretty I bet, weren't they?" I probed.  "Yes Mom, they were," he reluctantly conceded.   "So they weren't fit then I guess, or not as fit as you would like your girlfriend to be I suppose..." I trailed off with a smile.  He smiled back and nodded.   Whew, I was able to get that out of him at least, it was a start.  How to go from here before he changed the subject, I wondered.  It was time to play a bit unfairly to move this along. 

"I think I understand," I said matter-of-factly.   "I was looking for a movie to watch one evening and found one of your DVDs next to a magazine of yours..."   "Mom!" he interjected, "how could you!?" 

"I'm sorry Jack...I must admit I was pretty surprised when a DVD labeled "Big Gains" turned out having nothing to do with winning the lottery or some casino heist" I said.   I looked over at him and that had done it, he went flush red with embarrassment, the cat was out of the bag now.  He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out.

I quickly continued to allay his further embarrassment, "it's okay Jack," I said reassuringly, everyone likes something, your tastes in women are just a bit more...unusual," I said diplomatically.  "I understand how normal women may not excite you, it's not often you see women at school with 18 inch biceps I bet."

Poor Jack was still at a loss for words, he simply nodded and hung his head a bit.  And now the hook, I smiled to myself.  "Really Jack," I started, "it's fine really, and honestly, it was very inspiring, at first at least." 

I paused and let that comment hang out there a bit for my son to consider.  I didn't have to look over at him to hear the wheels turning in his head.  After a few moments of silence, he asked, "what do you mean Mom?"

"Well, I mean that that muscle woman in your video inspired me to get fit too."  "Really Mom?" he said, somewhat in disbelief, "but what happened, you lost interest, you gained the weight back?"  His muscle radar was piqued now and his questions flowed more freely.  "No Jack, I didn't lose interest," I said in a lower voice, accompanied by a smile that he likely interpreted to be a bit playful but I knew had predatory undertones, "quite the opposite in fact," I finished. 

On later reflection, this may have been a bit unkind or even cruel of me toward my son, especially since I knew his inclinations toward women that could crush a motor bike with their thighs, but it was rather amusing, watching him trying to piece my innuendo together.  I could have sworn I even saw a slight twitch in his swim trunks.

"B-but you said that that muscle woman inspired you at first, what happened later?" he said, staring intently at me, no doubt hanging on my next words.  He was deep in now, no getting out.  The trap was about to spring closed and in it, my prize.

I looked right at him, moistened my lips and began, "well Jack, that muscle woman inspired me for a while, but like anything, once you reach the same level of that which inspires you, the inspiration fades and a person seeks new challenges, new levels to achieve."  He glanced down the length of my robe.  "Mom," he started, "do you mean you-" "Yes" I said quickly, cutting him off, "once I surpassed her level of...muscularity..." I let the word linger for a moment on my lips, "she no longer inspired me, and new sources of inspiration were required to achieve my goals."  I didn't look at him, I didn't have to, I could sense that his manhood was rising to attention.

The verbal sparring was arousing me.  So was his cock, which was growing in size, just a few feet away from me.  He was nervous now, in unfamiliar territory, and his desires were muddling his brain.  "W-who became your inspiration?" he asked me "after..." his words trailed off, but his intent was clear.

"The most muscular of the male bodybuilders, of course" I stated flatly.  I noticed out of the corner of my eye that his cock was pulsating with excitement, deliciously I might add.  The poor boy.  Soon, soon, I thought to myself.

After some time had passed in silence, I casually announced that I would love to work on my tan but that I needed to put some lotion on first to prevent a burn.  "Okay" he muttered but I know his eyes were riveted to my body.  I stood up slowly and removed that ugly white fluffy robe that had been struggling to contain my muscles for the last 45 minutes.  I let the robe slip to the ground and faced my son, allowing him to soak in the "new" me.  I could have stared at him for two minutes and he would not even have known I was looking at him.  His mouth fell open and his eyes hungrily devoured every inch of my body.  My slightest movements caused waves of muscle to ripple, rhythmically.  I enhanced the show a bit by tensing, but not quite flexing, various muscles and delighted in watching Jack's eyes jump to the exact muscle I "tensed" as it expanded.  He was struggling to control himself now, the fabric of his swim trunks was stretched to the max outwardly and his cock began to elongate down the pant leg of his trunks in search of more room in which to expand.  A wave of arousal came over me and I bit my lip in an effort to stem the tide. 

Part 6

"Oh my g-god, M-M-Mom!" Jack yelled with such intensity that he alarmed me, "you're h-h-huge!"  I never remembered my son stammering as he had today, he was clearly unnerved by my pure muscularity.   

"Well, thank you Jack," I said tentatively, "if that was meant to be a compliment" I said coyly, know full well the rather dramatic effect I was having on him.  "Yes!" he squealed in excitement.

I sat down again on the lounge chair and reached for the sun lotion.  Well, it wasn't exactly sun lotion, it was more like...posing oil.  After all, I already had a vicious tan and I only needed my muscles to glisten for my son, like those bodybuilders on stage.  I didn't need the UV protection.  I didn't think that Jack would realize at that moment if I had been about to spread motor oil over my body.

I concentrated on the task at hand, pointing my leg, one at time and massaging my legs gently with the oil, more than rubbing in sun screen.  I paid extra attention to my bulbous calves that measured nearly 25 inches and my quads that could have used their own zip code.   I desperately wanted my son to oil my abs, pecs and biceps, but it was just too obvious, after all, I could reach those parts myself.  My hands glided all over my body with the oil.  I closed my eyes, imaging they were Jack's hands ravishing me as they roamed over every pumped muscle in my body.  I paused to run a finger into every crevice, every valley, every mountain and every cliff that was my body.   I could hear Jack's effort to muffle his staggered breathing, but it was a losing battle as he was quite aroused.  My heart raced as well, but I was in more control, being in such phenomenal shape. 

I stood and half turned to him, as to not to be too blatantly obvious and slowly rubbed the oil into my glutes, flexing them as I did so, to ensure my son saw every rippling striation that I had worked so hard to achieve.  But I couldn't reach my back.

I leaned over to Jack, tensing my pecs for effect and in a soft voice, asked, "would you mind applying this sun screen to my back please Jack, I can't quite reach it."  "Here, come sit by mom," and I motioned to him to move to my lounge chair.  He readily agreed and practically flew over to sit next to me, I had never seen the boy move so fast I thought to myself.

His hands were callused, from the gym no doubt, as were mine.  They felt wonderful as they roamed my back and the excitement in my loins intensified.  His hands trembled with excitement, and after the first dollop of oil had covered a small portion of my back, he completely forgot the task and instead just began massaging me all over, feeling, probing, the dense hard muscle of my back and shoulders. I gently reminded Jack of the oil and he dutifully went back to rubbing the oil over every square inch of my back which took a rather long while.  I was making a physical connection with him, cementing a bond of desire that I hoped would make us more intimate with each other in the days ahead.

When my back was well oiled, we sat side by side on the lounge chair, in comfortable silence, looking at each other.  The look on his face was one of wonder, adoration.  I'm sure he was still processing the huge size of his mother's muscles, in some disbelief, and more than a bit of arousal.

As much as my body was screaming to take him, pin him down and ravish him, jerking that massive cock to full arousal and directing it into my sex, I struggled to keep my desires in check.  This would only work if he took me.  And it would only work if the psychological hook was set, deeply.  I needed him to want to break down the incestuous barrier that kept us apart, and I needed to unearth the dominant feelings deep within in that I suspected existed.  I needed to play the submissive card, prove to him that I was worthy of his commands.  My enhanced muscularity enticed him on many levels I'm sure.  Given a chance, I would prove to him that I could satisfy his every desire, no matter how unusual or perverted they were.  I needed to see his true self, for better or worse.  Only in his arousal, release, satisfaction, and happiness, would I find my own.  My journey of self-discovery, as a submissive female bodybuilder, that had only one master, my son, was about to begin.

Part 7

After a few moments, he asked me in what was almost a whisper, "Mom, how b-big are you?"  "You looks fantastic," he added.  "Thank you Jack, I appreciate that, it's taken many long hours of lifting to become this muscular," I said with a soft and sincere smile.  "I'm this big," I said as I extended my arms and expanded my chest, which inched dangerously close to him."  "I'm like Ahhrnold" I joked in a funny accent.  We both laughed and then he became serious again.  "No, I mean, in inches..." he said.

"Ahh, well, if you asking me if my biceps are bigger than yours, the answer is yes," I said with a wink.  "As for inches, I don't really measure," I lied.  The fact was I know my exact measurements, but that was for him to find out in a more...fun way, at some later date.  "Oh, okay," Jack replied, the disappointment clear in his voice.   For a moment I felt bad, here was the muscular woman he had ever know, his own mother, his muscle fantasy woman, sitting right next to him and he couldn't...

"W-w-would you f-f-flex your b-bicep for me please, Mom" he asked abruptly.  There, he had said it, and so it begins.  But damn, he was too nice about it, too polite, too tentative, I thought to myself.  I had raised him well.  I could see on his face the inner conflict.  Raging muscle lust driving him forward vs. the oedipal, incestuous relationship taboo holding him back.  His bathing trunks were tenting impressively, but his stammer revealed the inner conflict.  I needed him to cross this border, break this threshold.  I needed to appeal to him more deeply than just physically.  Sure, if I were to flex a huge, quivering female bicep in his face bigger than any he had dreamed possible, that would be a great start, but I needed more.   

I didn't answer him.  Long moments passed as his question hung in the air.  I could see the doubt, the guilt, in his eyes, but also the desire.   Finally, after what seemed like minutes had passed, I swung my legs over his and very slowly leaned into him, my breasts thrust up under his chin, with slabs of pectoral muscle on either side of his face and whispered seductively in his ear, "Command me."  It was a dangerous play, I had hoped he would find his way to me more naturally, he could recoil, but if my suspicions about the nature of my son were true, the gamble would pay off.

"Flex your bicep for me," he said weakly.   I hesitated, wanting more, and then it came. 

More forcefully than I had ever heard him speak to me before, so much so that it almost unnerved me, Jack spoke these words: "I said now, Mom, flex your bicep for me.  Make it big and hard." 

My bikini bottoms became wet with my cum, I looked him straight in the eyes and flexed my right arm for him, without hesitation, the muscle soaring skyward.  His eyes darted to my biceps and widened.  I don't think he had any idea a woman could have biceps this big.  A casual flex had swelled it to 25 inches, far bigger than any of the women on those videos I'm sure he had ogled for years in the darkness of his room, mere feet from my bedroom.  I saw him subtlety lick his lips with desire, and I could feel his cock lurch under me, but he refrained from touching me.  I didn't understand, this was what he wanted.

Then he said something I will never forget.  In a now authoritative voice he said "That's not good enough Mom.  Pump it bigger.  Now," he emphasized.   It's true, I had only casually flexed, my biceps were not as big as they could be, I had let him down.  Now it was my turn to stammer.   "I'm s-s-sorry Jack, of course, let mommy make it b-bigger for you."   

I quickly flexed several times, hard, pumping the muscle as much as I could.  Thankfully, it engorged significantly, swelling another three inches in size.   I held the pose for him, wordlessly seeking his approval.  "Good" he said simply.  I sighed with relief, my actions had pleased him.  A sense of fulfillment washed over me.  His hands finally got the better of him and he gripped my biceps with both hands, aggressively probing the muscle, feeling its hardness, seeking a soft spot, but to his surprise, there was none.  I had been very thorough.   Four years of pounding ungodly amounts of weight had built not only size but muscle density on my arms.  All over my body for that matter.  I was fortunate, genetics certainly played a part in my physique and my ability to get hard.  I was also blessed with genetics that resulted in the perfect shape, that intensely rising peak on the top of bicep that Jack was now running his hands over frenetically.

"I asked you earlier how big they were" he stated firmly.  "28 inches," I replied instantly.  Another command came.  "Pump it again, slowly."   I reacted immediately this time to his demand, slowly extending my arm horizontally and then curling my arm ever so slowly toward my shoulder.  I see now why he was asking.  Both of his hands were on top of my biceps peak, he obviously wanted to feel my muscle grow under his touch, feel the muscle bulge as I squeezed it as hard as I could for him.  As my muscle reached its apex, he groaned and convulsed, nearly bucking me off of him.  He spasmed for over two minutes, and I knew my stud had come hard.  I closed my eyes, enjoying the sensation of his cock bouncing under my legs, practically lifting my body off of his lap with every pulse.   My god, he was magnificent.  Finally, he experienced a release that he deserved.   And I came so hard my bikini bottoms were a sopping mess.

He wasn't finished though.  His lips plunged down to my pecs and he began nibbling and licking them, as his hands continued to roam over my biceps peak.  I leaned down and whispered in his ear.  "I did this for you Jack, I built this body for you.  For your pleasure.  Tell me what you desire and I'll fulfill all of your fantasies."  Another lurch of his cock propelled me upward.

He smiled at me and stood up, his arms around me.  Then he surprised me by bending down and kissing me on the lips, passionately, forcefully.  My heart fluttered.  His hands roamed all over my body.  I smiled to myself when his hands paused on my glutes.  Years of squats had honed them to muscular perfection.  They were large, dense, and striated.  They were so hard.  And so was his cock that was again pressing insistently against me, this time in front, not like when I was on his lap.  He was fully loaded to bear again in mere moments.  Oh glorious youth.  His hands roamed wildly over my glutes, probing for any weakness, any imperfection.  There was none.  I had been extremely diligent.  There would be no imperfections in the body that I presented to my son, my lover. 

He pulled back from our kiss and issued another command, he was beginning to relish a role that came quite naturally to him.  "Carry me upstairs to your bedroom" he commanded.  "Yes Jack," I whispered.  Instantly I swept him up in my arms, drawing his face into my waiting pecs and propelled him into the house, up the stairs and into my bedroom, my powerful legs not even feeling his 225 pounds.  I placed my son gently on my bed, and awaited further instruction.

After a moment he spoke, his voice now strong, confident, dominant.  "You've attained a level of muscularity mom that few, if any, have achieved.  By your own logic, the muscle men and women who used to inspire you to grow can no longer do so, as you have surpassed them.  Who will be your inspiration to add more muscle to your frame, to continue to develop, to fill out that frame of yours, to pack on more muscle going forward?"

"You will, master, you will," I said without hesitation.  I fell to my knees before him and lowered my eyes.  Although I dared not look at him, I sensed his satisfaction with my answer, and that brought me great happiness.  Part of what I learned during this journey of self-discovery was that I truly enjoyed being submissive to the one I loved.  This would no doubt be a rocky journey with many twists and turns.  Dominance must be balanced with temperance and fulfillment, and love.  And I was confident my master, my son, could meet all of my physical and emotional needs, and that I could meet his needs.  My body was trembling with excitement and anticipation of what I thought was to come, but my master had further desires to be fulfilled...and rules to be followed, as I would come to learn.   

The End? 

[GreenKnight007]

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[Marc79633]

 .... outstanding

[derwookie]

 
Can`t wait for more!

[BossRose]

Awesome story so far! Muscle mom's are the best and think the submissive part will make this very interesting...

[Biceps108]

Please do continue. You have an amazing writing style, and this story is unique. Would love to see their new lives, like how he commands her. The idea of having her wrestle, dominate or hurt someone else for his pleasure is also one I'd love to see.

[jumpy999]

The end of part 1 only...right? This is too good to stop here, man!

[WapWap]

Your story was excellent.  Both the writing and creative content are on point.  I hope you chose to explore this storyline a bit further.  But whether you do or not, I'm looking forward to your next project.  Karma+!

[Lupus753]

Having a muscular woman be submissive is an intriguing concept.

[daviology]

Great story. Please make the mom fight against some big jocks ( possible to avenge her son ).

[jstans]

Yeah, there has to be more to this. I think the dominant awakening aspect is most appealing.

[wowser1016]

WOW! I love this! The submissive muscle mom idea is a unique approach and I certainly hope to read more of the interplay between mother and son. Please continue. K+!

[dimifree]

it was great! I hope you will continue this story!

[sgsg69]

Wow, this was absolutely the most perfectly balanced story from he submissive side I have ever read.......kudos, bravos and Karma to you. Can't wait for more, his desires for her growth and finally her reward!! K+++

[big easy]

OMG! This Story is amazing! And this is your first?! WOW! You have a bright future as a writer and I can't wait to see more

This reminds me of my favorite story on The Valkyrie called "Inheritance" about a former female bodybuilder turned overweight single mom getting inspired to get huge again when she discovers her son getting into bodybuilding and pleasuring himself to old pics of her, although that story, the mom was dominant. It's refreshing to see a story of a mom who's submissive because normally the mom tries to be the dominant and head of the family. If you're looking for more ideas to continue the story, here are some you might be interested in:

1) Jack becomes a spoiled brat and Sara has to take up camming and sessions to support each of their growing needs and she can quit her job to be around him more and take care of all his needs.

2) They both get into BDSM and leather/latex. Jack demands his mother to torture him and he tries to do the same to her, but she's so strong now that she barely feels anything.

3) Jack always wanted a sibling, so Sara tries to secretly get him to impregnate her with his future baby brother/sister.

4) Sara trains Jack so he can become the true dominant he was born to be. Then they decide to compete together (maybe Sara cuts her her so she can compete with the men).

You're more then welcome to use any of these ideas or combine them all!

[FTG]

OMG! This Story is amazing! And this is your first?! WOW! You have a bright future as a writer and I can't wait to see more

This reminds me of my favorite story on The Valkyrie called "Inheritance" about a former female bodybuilder turned overweight single mom getting inspired to get huge again when she discovers her son getting into bodybuilding and pleasuring himself to old pics of her, although that story, the mom was dominant. It's refreshing to see a story of a mom who's submissive because normally the mom tries to be the dominant and head of the family. If you're looking for more ideas to continue the story, here are some you might be interested in:

1) Jack becomes a spoiled brat and Sara has to take up camming and sessions to support each of their growing needs and she can quit her job to be around him more and take care of all his needs.



2) They both get into BDSM and leather/latex. Jack demands his mother to torture him and he tries to do the same to her, but she's so strong now that she barely feels anything.

3) Jack always wanted a sibling, so Sara tries to secretly get him to impregnate her with his future baby brother/sister.

4) Sara trains Jack so he can become the true dominant he was born to be. Then they decide to compete together (maybe Sara cuts her her so she can compete with the men).

You're more then welcome to use any of these ideas or combine them all!

Do you know who wrote the story so i can read it? Valkyrie has so many places to search it up

nhlcoolers