The Submissive Muscle Mom

[weaponzero]

I know that the story is about her being submissive.  But I fully imagine her going full yandere over this.

[weaponzero]

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[tarzan7]

I know that the story is about her being submissive.  But I fully imagine her going full yandere over this.

HA! I know she's supposed to be submissive in all this but she's still a Mom. And Moms - WITHOUT muscles - have been known for centuries to go nuts about their children, especially sons, if they've gone off the deep end. (But then this Mom went off the deep end in doing what's she's doing, so... I don't know.)

[pramitsen2008]

Great story

Different concept, not a common style but still a good one.
Keep it coming

K+++

[sgsg69]

Another amazing chapter, violating rules and being required to gain muscle...........and now the twist of fate for Cindy to be added, who knows where this goes!! KARAM to you

[Jeremy Lightning]

Yeah, really like where this is going, lots of twists and turns, all of which are enjoyable to read. I look forward to how huge mom can get and what she does with Cindy when she gets there. k+!

[wowser1016]

This story has me guessing now. It was all so straightforward at first and now you have thrown Cindy into the path and I don't have a clue as to what direction we go next. What ever the twist, I like it. K+!

[hatour]

Wonderful twist. Can't wait to see what happens next. Karma for all!

[tarzan7]

I forgot this in my last two posts: KARMA!

[GreenKnight007]

The story of Sara, The Submissive Muscle Mom and her dominant son Jack, continues; from Sara's perspective as always.  Thank you all for your kind words and encouragement.  I hope you enjoy the story.  GK007

Part 12
Cindy rose from the couch and a few things immediately struck me.  First, my initial concerns of a super-muscular Cindy stealing my son away were completely unwarranted.  She was big, that much was true, but in all the wrong places.  That track suit she wore was probably the only clothing left in her closet that would cover her burgeoning midsection.  Jack had been honest when he told me that she was 300 pounds of fat.  I could only imagine that the girl must suffer from such poor self-esteem given the harsh judgments of those in today's society. 

Most women were not close to my 5-10 stature, but Cindy was every bit of that as we were eye to eye when she fully stretched those legs.  And she might even have passed for attractive if it wasn't for the roundness of her face that came along with the excessive pounds all over her body.  She was grossly overweight.  I didn't know what to make of this whole situation.

"Hi Sara," she said with a pleasant smile, "it's so nice to meet you."  Cindy leaned in for a quick hug and I reciprocated, although my arms came nowhere close to meeting in the back, her rolls of fat preventing that.

"Hello Cindy," I replied, "the pleasure is mine, welcome to our home."

There was an awkward silence as the three of us sat down and finally out of politeness, I offered "so, Cindy, how do know my son?"

"Oh, we've been friends since grade school..." she started, prompting a raised eyebrow from Jack that went unnoticed by Cindy, "...I was so happy to see your son when we ran into each other at the store recently, I had almost forgotten how handsome he was, and here you are keeping him all to yourself," Cindy said with a hearty laugh.  If only she knew, I thought.  And sure, I bet she's hot for my son now, but I remember a very different boy in grade school, a shy, quirky, gangly boy that had few friends and none of the chiseled features he's since developed.

This was no social visit, my Master had a plan.  He had clearly charmed Cindy to get her back to our home, perhaps with implied promise of something more.  That would have been easy for Jack, with his good looks, muscular build, affable demeanor and dreamy eyes.  She was too naive to recognize that a stud like Jack would never be interested in a blob like Cindy, unless he harbored some fat fetish none of us knew about.  No, he had something else planned for us, of that I was certain.

"Yes," Jack chimed in, "Mom's been keeping me all to herself."  He smiled and I could see the infatuation on Cindy's face as she gazed at him.  He glanced knowingly at me, a hint of the secret we shared that others could never know.

"We'll have to see if we can't just change that now, won't we Jack," Cindy said hopefully.

Jack abruptly changed the subject.  "So Mom, Cindy was a cheerleader in high school, very popular with the football players, even dated a few if I recall correctly" he said.  "Of course that little cheerleader outfit and those taut abs you had might have had a bit to do with your popularity."

"Oh very nice Cindy, did you cheer in college?" I asked.

"No, not really Sara, I had lost interest by then," Cindy replied vaguely. 

"Well, if I recall it was a bit more than that," Jack said, "I seem to remember you tipping the scales a bit too unfavorably back then Cindy, when I saw you that one summer."  That was rude I thought to myself. 

"W-well, the...umm...you know, I packed on the freshman 15, I suppose," Cindy said uncomfortably.

"Not to mention the sophomore, junior and senior 40, eh Cindy" my son said callously.  "And I do recall being friends Cindy, well, in middle school perhaps, but by high school, you wouldn't give me the time of day, you barely acknowledged my existence despite the obvious crush I had on you."

"J-jack, that's n-not true at all," she said, "I always liked you," she said, somewhat unconvincingly.

"The way I saw it Cindy, you developed that hot little body of yours and when you gained a bit of popularity and put it on display for the jocks, you no longer had time for that shy, awkward boy that you used to be friends with." 

"And for that matter, what makes you think that the good looking muscular stud that I've become would be remotely interested in the beached whale that you've become Cindy?" 

"Jack, w-why did you invite me over today?" she asked, clearly becoming distraught.  "I thought you liked me."  My son was on a roll, I could see years of pent up frustration welling to the surface.

"Why?" he yelled.  "I'll tell you why," he said with barely a pause, "because you were supposed to be my girlfriend.  You were supposed to continue building that thick, hard body into something more, something beautiful, for me!"

"And now look at you, look at the disgusting pig you've become.  How much do you weigh?  How much?"

"Jack please, I don't know, just stop, please," she begged.

"I don't know either, let's find out" Jack said, and he dashed over to the hallway closet, rummaged in the back for a moment and pulled out our bathroom scale."   So there it was, I thought.

"Step on the scale Cindy," he demanded.

"Jack, please—" she started.  "--No!, he interrupted her, "get your fat ass on that scale, now!"

Cindy stood up, tears in her eyes and humbly stepped on the scale.  The digital reading quickly displayed 309. 

"My god, 309 pounds of blubber" Jack said in disgust, "you should be ashamed of yourself."  He looked and me, glanced at the scale and then back at me.  I understood.   Jack's expectation of me had changed, a new requirement had been established and I had no time to build more muscle, what I had accomplished in the last 35 days would have to be enough, or yet further punishment would be exacted.

Part 13

I sat in silence, watching this tale unfold in front of me, my son humiliating this woman, degrading her, killing any last shred of self-esteem she possessed.  And I began to loathe Cindy too.  For what she did to my son, ignoring him throughout his high school days.  I'd seen it before, in my high school days, girls lost weight or sprung breasts over the summer and suddenly they flirted with every boy they fancied, forgetting their true friends.

Cindy stepped off the scale and said simply, "I should go" and she turned toward the front door.

"Stop!" Jack yelled.  "You'll leave when I tell you to.  Take off that tent of a sweatshirt," he commanded. 

She looked at him hesitantly, uncertain of whether to leave or comply.  I saw her trying to gauge his demeanor and predict his next actions, and her safety if she disobeyed.  Cindy glanced at me, but I offered her nothing.  She decided he was too unpredictable, and dutifully unzipped her sweatshirt. 

The poor girl didn't even the decency to wear a shirt underneath and her exposed belly roll came into full view.  The bra she was wearing did little to lift the large sagging breasts that hung low on her chest, resting on her bloated belly.  She raised her arms as she removed the sweatshirt and large, gelatinous rolls of fat swaying with every movement. 

She gently placed the sweatshirt on the couch and looked at my son.

"I brought you here for another reason Cindy," he said flatly.  "To show you the woman you should have become, to show you what you were capable of had you pursued it.  But that's lost now.  Even if you started working out, the dozens of pounds of loose, disgusting excess skin remaining would repulse me," he hissed.

"Mom, stand up," he commanded.

I rose from the armchair I was sitting in and awaited his further instruction.

"Take off your clothes Mom and show Cindy what 300 pounds should look like on a woman," he said.  I could tell he was eager to see my body, after 35 days of abstinence, the poor boy deserved to see it. 

I began to strip down, my confidence growing.  My son was offering me a wonderful opportunity.  A chance to proudly display the body I had built for him.  A chance to make him proud, while getting back at the woman that had wronged him years ago.  The woman for whom he had lusted but that had ignored him in his formative years.  I would make him proud. 

I stood before both of them, completely naked, every rock hard muscle on full display.  I looked at Jack.  His mouth had fallen open and his eyes were devouring my body.   "M-mom," he stammered, completely losing his composure, "you look incredible!"

"Why thank you darling, I'm glad you like the new size and definition I've achieved.  I wanted to say more, but I held my tongue, given the visitor in our presence.

I glanced at Cindy who had a look of shock on her face.  It was clear she had no idea what to make of the physical specimen of a woman that stood in front of her.

"Flex Mom," Jack demanded.

I went into a series of bodybuilding poses to prominently display all of my muscles.  I took my time, pumping each muscle, over and over.  Gorging the muscle with blood to achieve a fully pumped look.  I felt spectacular.  I was big, I was hard. Every muscle was painstakingly sculpted for maximum size and maximum definition.  Bicep peaks rose on level with the top of my head, jagged, defined cannonballs with incredible density.  My breasts were thrust upward and outward, appearing two cup sizes larger than they actually were, thanks to the amazing pectoral development in my upper chest. Striated, shredded beef filled my chest and I isolated and flexed one pec at a time, bloating the muscle and making my breast leap off my chest, quickly followed by a similar flex of the pec muscle on the other side of my chest.  I was rewarded with the sound of more rapid breathing from my son.  It spurred me on.

I crunched down hard to flex the perfect 8 pack abs I had crafted.  Solid bricks that indeed I had not ignored.  Each ab was generously set apart from its adjacent partner by a deep crevice nearly two inches deep.

I flexed my quads for my onlookers, the muscles swelling, rippling, huge teardrop shaped muscles rising, valleys being created as I rolled the muscle.  I gradually rose up on my toes, my calves bursting more readily, huge boulders affixed to my lower leg.  I would let them imagine what my back and glutes looked like, instead choosing a most muscular pose that would have made Arnold look puny in comparison.  I held the pose for a full 30 seconds, then gradually relaxed.

I recognized the look on my son's face, his muscle lust had returned.

Cindy recovered first.  She looked at Jack and immediately her eyes darted toward his crotch.  "Oh my god!" she gasped. 

"Yes, she's incredible, isn't she," he murmured, his eyes never wavering from my body. 

"No...I mean, well, yes...she is, but I mean, your p-pen..umm, pants, your pants!" she said, pointing at my son.   

I looked at Jack's crotch and smiled.  I was very familiar with this occurrence and my son's proportions, but Cindy looked a bit dazed and something more; flushed with arousal I guessed.

My son's cock was growing in response to my muscle display.  It had rapidly filled available space in the crotch area and his loose boxers allowed it to expand down one of his pant legs, inching ever closer to his knee.  Cindy's eyes grew wide and she licked her lips.  Yes, she was flush with desire, her eyes greedily devouring the ever growing hammer of a penis my son sported.  My god, how did he walk around with that thing, he could practically use it as a crutch if he ever injured his leg.  My arousal was rivaling that of Cindy's desire.

My son broke from his trance at Cindy's utterance and he looked down to see his huge cock moving down his pant leg.  "That's not for you Cindy, nor will it ever be.  You are not worthy of my cock, only one woman is," he said, looking at me with a mix of admiration, love and desire.

I loved him so much in that moment.  I captured the look on his face in my mind's eye to recall it time and time again in future days.

Jack walked over and picked up the scale that he had made Cindy step on a short while ago and placed it before me.  He motioned me toward it.

I dutifully stepped on the scale, my heart skipping a beat, nervous yet at the same time exited.  The digital readout displayed 314.  Yes! I thought to myself.  I had done it.  Not only had I blown past the original mark that Jack had set for me, but today's new goal.  I had packed 29 pounds of bulging, rock hard muscle onto my body in just 35 days.  And Jack was ecstatic.  He hugged me before I had even stepped off the scale.  "Thank you Mom," he whispered to me, his words inaudible to Cindy.  I melted into his arms, tears forming in my eyes.  "Anything for you honey," I whispered back.

After a moment, Jack pulled away from me and turned toward Cindy.  "That is the body you should have achieved Cindy.  The body you were capable of building.  Look.  Look how huge and hard the muscle is!" Jack yelled, pointing at me. 

I reveled in his admiration.  I had made Jack proud of me and that excited me. 

"Soft," he said, violently jabbing his index finger into Cindy's fat belly, which squished and jiggled; "hard," Jack said, poking his finger into my cobblestone abs, which didn't budge.  "Fat," he said, again poking Cindy in the belly, "muscle," he said, touching my abs, lingering for a moment to rub his finger into a deep crevice.

"Touch her Cindy.  Feel my mother's body.  Feel what a real woman feels like," Jack said insistently.   He grabbed Cindy's hand and pushed it against my abs.  He backed away.  Cindy gingerly explored my abs, a look of wonderment on her face.  "S-s-so h-hard," she said in whisper.  Her thick fingers traced the crevices down and across my abs.  She closed her eyes, her breathing becoming more rapid.

I suddenly flexed my abs hard, crunching a finger in a deep crevice.  "Oh!" she yelped in surprise, her eyes snapping open.  I gradually applied pressure, the muscle tightening around her finger.  I could see it was quickly becoming uncomfortable for her.  I flexed harder.  She grimaced, her face a mask of pain.

I looked over at my son.  He was rubbing his cock through his pant leg, deeply aroused at my display.  My pussy began to tingle.

I held the ab flex, as Cindy desperately tried to pull away to no avail.  But I wasn't satisfied.  Never once relaxing the muscle, I gave one last burst of a flex of my abs.  "Ow!" she screamed, and I heard and felt a bone in her fat finger break, finally yielding to my rock hard abs.  My pussy was wet, I was on fire.  I relaxed my abs, allowing Cindy to pull her hand away.

"You bitch!" she yelled at me.  I smiled at her, with a look of supreme confidence.  She went to slap me with her good hand, but I was too quick to allow that.  I caught her hand an inch from my face, stopping her cold.  I smiled again and began to squeeze.  Again she grimaced, but there was more in her face this time, as tears watered her eyes.  A look of submission, surrender.  Her eyes were pleading me to stop.

My son was now furiously stroking his cock through his pant leg, in long purposeful strokes, very much to my delight.  Small beads of pre-cum formed dark patches on the fabric.  That massive rod was a beast, threatening to burst through his pants at any moment. 

I firmly guided Cindy's hand to my breasts and forced her hand to massage them. I ran her hand over my nipples, allowing her to squeeze them.  Her eyes looked into mine.  I moved her hand to my pecs.   Her eyes grew wide as she probed the muscle.  I gradually loosened my grip on her hand, and then slowly let my hand fall away.  She continued to explore the muscle; a soft moan escaped her lips and her eyes fluttered.  Then I shoved her hard, sending her tumbling across the living room, landing in heap near the couch. 

"You're not worthy of my body either, you fat bitch," I said, staring defiantly at her.

My son groaned and his cock exploded, sending a flood of cum toward his shoe and dampening his entire lower pant leg.  He sunk into an armchair, taking several deep breaths to recover from his efforts.

Cindy was picking herself up but still managed a few choice words for us.  "You sick fuckers," she spit out, tears flowing down her face and to the carpet, unabated.

Jack pulled his cell from his back pocket and dialed a cab.  "Get out Cindy, we're done with you," he said, throwing her a twenty for cab fare.  "You are not and never will be worthy of us."  Cindy left our house, utterly humiliated and deemed worthless by both the man that had pined for her years earlier and his ridiculously muscular mother.

Jack and I looked into each other's eyes, enjoying a mutual moment of satisfaction.

"Oh! Darling, the carpet!"  I raced to the kitchen to get some paper towels before my son's dose of pride could ruin the carpet.

Part 14

After the incident with Cindy, we sat on the couch together, Jack and I, holding each other close for quite some time.  "I love you Mom," he said.   "I love you too darling," I replied.

His hand eventually reached for my abs and I flexed them for his pleasure.  I could tell he was fascinated by the size and definition of my chiseled 8 pack.  As Cindy had, he traced the lines between each individual ab muscle marveling at the depth of my cuts.

I smiled and was thrilled to see his cock again expanding to python like proportions in his pants.

"I didn't ignore them honey," I said to Jack softly.  "Every steel hard inch of my abs has been built for your excitement, for your touch."  "And those 29 additional pounds of muscle are spread across my body for you to enjoy, those pills of yours worked wonderfully."

He suddenly stopped touching me and rose from the couch, again returning to the closet where he had pulled out our bathroom scale and began rummaging again for something.  He turned toward me and I saw that Jack had my old sewing kit in his hands.  He opened it and said simply, "the tape measure."

I smiled at him and pulled out the cloth tape measure I had not even seen in years while he set the kit on and end table.  Jack sat down again next to me, took the tape measure and told me to flex by bicep.

"They're bigger darling, much bigger," I said with a seductive smile.  I obeyed his command to flex, but I was determined to have a bit of fun with him if I could.  I half-heartedly flexed my right arm, the bicep ballooning beyond what any normal woman could ever hope to achieve.  Jack wrapped the tape around my arm, directly over the peak and under the largest part of my bulbous triceps.

"25 inches," he stated.  He scowled at me.  I flexed harder.

"27 inches," he said as the tape slid through his fingers.  I looked at him.  He was not happy.

"Mom, when I tell you to flex your muscles, you flex them for me, hard, as hard as you can, do you understand?" he asked sternly.

"Yes Master."  The time for playing around was over, he was becoming angered.  I pumped the bicep several times, and held a flex for him.
The tape fluttered through his fingers again, "29 inches," he said. 

"Not good enough dammit!"  "Where did those 29 pounds go?"   "Harder!"  Despite my inflating muscle, he was not satisfied.   

I pumped my bicep three more times, then squeezed it as hard as I could.  I looked down at the muscle, praying that my bicep had further moved the tape to his satisfaction.  It read 30 inches. 

I looked at Jack, eager for his approval, but it was not forthcoming.   "More!" he screamed, "you can do better, flex it harder!" he commanded.

"Y-yes Master."  I no longer pumped my arm, I simply closed my eyes, focused all of my energy on my bicep and squeezed it harder than I ever had in my life.

"30 and one quarter..." he read aloud, though I barely heard him.  A grunt from me followed as I flexed in earnest.  "30 and a half...," he said with a tremble in his voice.  A massive grunt and then he whispered, "...31 inches."   My muscle was at its maximum girth, I held the flex for as long as I could as I felt the tape slip away and his hands began roaming over my massive peak.

"Oh Mom, spectacular..." he said, "...I n-never dreamed this was possible."  Jack probed the muscle for what had to be a full minute, clearly enjoying the size and hardness of my bicep, and then finally withdrew his hands.  I opened my eyes to see his hands shaking and his cock engorged in full salute to my muscle.  "You may relax now," he said in soft voice.  Mercifully he gave me a moment to recover as I rubbed my swollen bicep.

"Stay here," Jack said.  "I have not forgotten your punishment."

I instantly became worried.  I had hoped he had forgotten; I had for that matter, given the events of the last hour or two.  But I knew I deserved whatever punishment he inflicted upon me for my having broken Rule #3, 35 days ago.  I vowed to myself to endure it, hoping it would make me stronger.

Part 15

I sat as instructed.  I watched Jack leave the house, but he had left the front door slightly ajar.  I heard a car door slam and in a moment he had returned, a box in his hand.   He waked over to me and handed me the box.

"Go upstairs, put this outfit on, and only this outfit, nothing else, and return to me here," he demanded.  I dutifully went upstairs to my bedroom, stripped naked, and opened the box.  Inside was a cheerleader outfit, well, the halter top and the skirt anyway.  That sly devil, I thought, apparently I was to act out a little fantasy of his, as my punishment.  I could get into this.  I put the skirt on first, it was a bit big for my narrow waist; I don't think Jack realized just how narrow my waist was despite my massive upper and lower body.  I was able to cinch it a bit, but it hung a bit low, fully exposing my lower abs, and dangerously close to my nether region.  Fortunately, I had been extremely thorough in my ab work and the abs below my belly button were on full display, just as diamond hard and cut as those above.  Jack was sure to be aroused and no panties meant that his hands were free to roam my lower body, fondle my clit and grip my solid glutes.     

Whereas the skirt had been a bit too big, the halter top was clearly too small.  Again, Jack had misjudged my body.  He didn't recognize the additional inches that I had added to my shoulders, back and pecs, thanks to his little unnamed pills and my intense workouts over the last 35 days.  I squirmed into it as best I could but it was extremely snug, allowing just enough space to breath.  The top was scandalously revealing, more so than any outfit that would have been permissible in high school or even college. 

I looked in the mirror and had to laugh to myself.  My muscles were bursting out everywhere yet the top held, just enough elasticity to stretch over my huge frame.  It was cut high, or rather perhaps it was pulled up by my shoulders and traps, but regardless, my abs were on full display. 

And the neckline, yikes, this was an outfit made to be worn by a porn star with huge breasts.  But on me it exposed the inner portion of my perky breasts and the massive expanse of my pectoral muscles that formed outrageous cleavage that no porn star could match, except my chest rippled with power, not silicone jiggle.  The halter top was also sleeveless, allowing my powerful arms free reign, which was appreciated, as no sleeve could any longer contain the mass I had added to my biceps and triceps.

Satisfied that the outfit managed to contain my exploding muscles, and secretly thinking my master will be pleased to see me in this outfit, I headed downstairs to face my son and endure my punishment.

When I arrived in the living room, I was distraught to see that my son had a large wooden bat in his right hand.  My heart rate quickened and I'm sure some of the color drained from my face.  This could not be good for me, and I cursed myself for having been so stupid as to break my master's rules.

When Jack saw me in the skimpy cheerleader outfit he had selected for me, I could tell his muscle lust was stirred.   His eyes were riveted to my physique, the thin fabric doing little to hide my swollen muscles.  Was I to be his high school fantasy woman this evening?  And how would the bat come into play?  Would he beat me for not being Cindy, his high school crush that had gained nearly as much fat as I had muscle?

I cautiously approached him, stopped a couple of feet away and awaited further instruction.  He approached and circled behind me.  I could hear his ragged breathing signifying his arousal.  The loving son that enjoyed gently caressing my body in bed while I teasingly flexed for him was nowhere to be found.  Instead, a virile, powerful, dominant man threatened to overwhelm me, and suggestions of physical punishment loomed.

Jack crept up close behind me, I could feel his warm breath on my neck.  His left hand reached around to my abs and stroked each steel hard block of chiseled muscle.  Suddenly the barrel of the bat was brushing my inner thigh.  Slowly he rubbed that glossy wooden bat up and down my inner thigh.  I was both fearful of him and extremely excited.

"You didn't neglect your abs," he whispered.

"No, Master, never," I replied.  He slowly worked his way around my body until he was directly in front of me.

Looking me right in the eye, he asked, "but are they hard enough, are they strong enough?"

"F-for w-what Master?" I asked tentatively. 

He raised the bat to my face.  "This."

"Clasp your hands behind your back," Jack instructed me.  I immediately complied.

Jack took a few steps back from me and lightly swung the bat, as if gauging its weight. 

"Mom, I'm going to strike your abs with this bat as punishment for having broken my rules.  Do you understand?"

"Yes Master," I said weakly, the color no doubt draining from my face.

"You are not, I repeat not to flex your abs unless I command otherwise Mom.  You are not to move, or flinch in any manner.  Your unflexed abs must absorb the blows until I am satisfied."   I nodded my obedience.

The small halter top of the cheerleader outfit left my entire 8 pack exposed.  I wondered exactly where Jack would strike me, and how many blows of punishment he would dole out.

I stared straight ahead, willing myself not to flinch as Jack swung the bat firmly at the center of my abs.  Smack!  A grunt escaped me as my abs absorbed the blow.  My abs burned a bit but I had not taken a step back.  "One." 

Jack reared back and unloaded a second time, hitting me square between my upper and lower 4 packs.  Ooof, I had felt that one but had managed to suppress a similar grunt to that which had escaped my lips on his first endeavor.  "Two," he counted.

He paused for a moment, searching for weakness or capitulation.  There was none.

"Remember, no flexing," he reminded me. 

"I have not and will not flex Master unless you instruct me otherwise."  He seemed satisfied with my response.

Again, he swung the bat and struck me in the abs, harder this time.  I gave no reaction whatsoever, eyes staring straight ahead.   "Three," he said.  I sensed his surprise, and perhaps a bit of uncertainty.  He paused. "Your abs are bright red, are you hurt?" Jack asked.

"No Master," I replied with a hint of confidence...or perhaps... defiance in my voice. 

Jack swung harder this next time, a tiny gasp escaping my lips and tears welled in my eyes, but I stood my ground.  "Four," he said, seemingly a bit frustrated at my lack of expression or acknowledgment or pain.

Jack looked me in the eyes and said, "Mom, this final blow will do far more than tickle.  Flex your abs, you'll need to."

I flexed down hard on my abs, the solid bricks engorging, the crevices widening.  They were stinging but had held up well.  I refused to look down but was certain there were some red welts, but Jack had not broken them, or me.  If I could just withstand one more blow.

His eyes were drawn to my abs, devouring them in his mind.  "Harder," he insisted.  I flexed as hard as I could, massive cuts outlining the steel hard muscles. 

Jack took several steps back, lowered his grip toward the end of the bat and with a roar suddenly took two leaps toward me while taking a mighty swing at my abs.  I closed my eyes.  Thud!  Snap!  Crash!   

The wooden bat had crashed against my steel hard abs and...lost.  I never flinched but needed a moment to recover from the blow.

"Oh my god, Mom!"   "Are you okay?" Jack asked with a worried look on his face.

"I'm f-fine dear," I said hesitantly as I rubbed my abs searching for any blood or bruising.  There was none.  I looked at Jack standing in front of me, holding what remained of the bat.  It had snapped on impact with my abs and the barrel had ricocheted into the living room wall, cracking the wallboard.  My son held in his hands the knob of the bat and maybe 14 or 15 inches of what was left. 

"Five," I finished for him.  He looked at me in near disbelief, and then glanced at the broken bat he held.  His eyes darted immediately to my abs, his gaze lingering, soaking in what had just happened.  I realized my abs were still fully flexed.

"Mom...your abs...so hard...so ripped..." Jack trailed off, at a loss for further words.

I finally relaxed my abs and took a deep breath. 

"Yes honey, they are.  Steel is indeed harder than wood," I said with growing confidence.

Jack's eyes met mine, but now there was a feral look in his eyes, one of...extreme arousal. 

I looked down briefly to see that beautiful cock of his pressing insistently against the fabric of his trousers.  I was becoming highly aroused as well, and I began to go flush with excitement.

I slowly backed up until the back of my knees hit the couch and then lowered myself to a seated position.  My eyes locked on his and my left hand began to stroke my inner thigh, gradually disappearing under my short skirt to more sensitive areas.  I saw my son swallow deeply.

I ran my tongue gently over my lips in a circular motion.  My index finger joined in, my lips and tongue gently embracing it.  When I knew I had his complete attention, I broke our gaze and looked to what remained of the bat in his hands then returned my eyes to his.  Briefly an inquisitive look passed across his face.  I plunged my finger into my mouth, licking and sucking it with passion, my attention now riveted to the bat.  A last look at my son and the light bulb was lit. 

I gave him a smoldering, sexy smile to seal the deal, but it was unnecessary.  He was on me in two quick strides.  He had flipped the bat so the knob was pointed toward me and he began to rub it against my thigh while I continued to finger myself.  My eyes fluttered with excitement.

"Is this what you want Mom?" he asked, his confidence growing.   I nodded.

He pushed my hand away from my pussy and the end of the bat touched me, a wave of arousal washing over me.  He pushed it inside of me, gently probing, and then withdrew it.  He repeated the motions several more times, sometimes twisting the bat somewhat violently at its deepest point.   I moaned in ecstasy.  On one particularly deep thrust, I suddenly clenched my inner muscles, solidly gripping the knob of the bat and held it firmly deep inside me.

He looked at me with surprise and I gave him a sexy smile.  He gently tugged, to no avail.  He was excited, I could see his monster had grown into a full state of arousal.  He re-gripped the broken port of the bat and pulled hard, trying to wrest it from my pussy.  I held firm.  Then with two hands he pulled harder, my pussy still unyielding to his power.  I felt his body trembling with excitement.  He paused, then pulled again with one hand.  I gradually eased the tension on the bat, ever so slowly allowing Jack to pull it from me, eventually exiting me with a wet pop.

He held what remained of the bat, his hands trembling.  I reached out, gently took the bat from him and set it aside.  I pulled him down on the couch to me by the waistband of his trousers that now had dark, moist stains from the crotch to the knee.  I slowly unzipped his pants, unleashing his monster cock.

"Is this what you want dear?" I asked him in a whisper.

He uttered what sounded like the deep growl of a large animal, and suddenly thrust that huge weapon deep inside me.  My eyes rolled back in my head.  Finally, I thought, my reward for fulfilling his desires, for building the strongest, most muscular female body on the planet.   

Jack pinned my arms over my head with one hand, rubbed his other repeatedly over my steel hard abs, enjoying my flexes as he did so.  I massaged his cock with my pussy, alternating between gripping his cock firmly and then more softly as he plunged into me repeatedly.  Our breathing quickened, each of us nearing climax.  His free hand began to roam all over my body, pausing longer on my biceps, then my pecs, enjoying the sensation as I flexed each muscle for his pleasure.

"Oh...oh...Mom...uh..uh..." Jack said with a groan.

"That's it my darling, give it all to Mommy" I said, panting, his huge cock completely wrecking my pussy.

"Yes, yes Cindy, yes...oh oh...your body, your muscles, for me...yes!" he screamed, now lost in muscle lust, his mind clouded.

Several deep, forceful thrusts and my son climaxed, my cum mixing with his as we came together, our bodies spent from the efforts of the evening.  He collapsed on top of me and I embraced him, holding him close, squeezing every last drop from his cock with my pussy as he gradually deflated.  It was everything that I had hoped and dreamed.  Almost.

-----------------------------------       

[Sounder9-]

Nice update! It also sound like the tables will soon be turning.

[big easy]

OMG! This story is getting better and better! Based on Cindy's reactions to Jack's erection and Sara's muscles I'd love to see her use this moment to ignite her own transformation into a submissive muscle monster for Jack and/or Sara. Although I'd prefer that her progress takes place during a long period of time just like Sara's to keep it realistic. Maybe she reveals herself at a contest that Sara (and possibly Jack) competes at ? ;P:

[tarzan7]

How can I put this... Jack is a selfish, self-absorbed egotist. Mom was the likable one in the beginning, if not a bit unhinged herself. For what she did to Cindy was as despicable as Jack's actions. Cindy created Jack - you have to wonder what the backstory was here with them in the years after the father died and he was growing up with Mom.

Both of them are anti-social lunatics, and not sympathetic characters at all. (Mom, in her actions in the last chapter, shows she as deluded as her son.)

All that being said, the writing is excellent, the action has been red hot and... like rubber necking on the highway.... you know this is not going to end well for all concerned. I can't wait for the next chapter.

KARMA!

[jstans]

How can I put this... Jack is a selfish, self-absorbed egotist. Mom was the likable one in the beginning, if not a bit unhinged herself. For what she did to Cindy was as despicable as Jack's actions. Cindy created Jack - you have to wonder what the backstory was here with them in the years after the father died and he was growing up with Mom.

Both of them are anti-social lunatics, and not sympathetic characters at all. (Mom, in her actions in the last chapter, shows she as deluded as her son.)

All that being said, the writing is excellent, the action has been red hot and... like rubber necking on the highway.... you know this is not going to end well for all concerned. I can't wait for the next chapter.

KARMA!

With you! Love the story and the descriptions, but boy did that take a turn. Jack has some very dicey assumptions and for Sara to feed into that... I thought we were getting a story with heroes and I was way wrong. But Jack's Freudian slip in the last graph might lead to some changes in Sara and bad times for him. Can't wait to see.

[seldom]

Well, I for one am smitten, and will follow this story wherever it leads. I can only hope that we've barely begun our journey into Jack and Sara's insane depravity!

[Artfuldodger]

If he really wanted to punish Cindy, he should have railed her - do her for hours and denial her orgasm at each time, give her the ultimate sexual experience, then kick her out forever.