"Ready for me to wall fuck you in half?" she whispered with a smile, followed by a throaty laugh that made his already hard penis hurt with increased stiffness, its tip actually turned upward in its plea for release.

He couldn't stop himself. He ran my hands and tongue over her astonishing body, reveling in its combined steely hardness, salty sweetness, and soft skin.

He could still hardly believe it. She loved him! "Yes! Please, Doreen! Fuck me! Take me with your muscles!"

She lowered one arm, cupped his buttocks, and without effort, picked him up and slipped his sweating penis into her. His back remained pressed against the wall. It was the most exciting feeling he'd ever had. She then, one- handed, used him as her dildo, moving him within her vagina while smothering his face with her armpit of power. He couldn't help himself. He came so hard the world whited-out for a few moments and somewhere he heard himself scream in ecstasy. When he came to he was still hard and she was still fucking him slowly and in complete control, moving his entire body with the ease a normal woman would move a dildo. "Oh, my," she said. "I am going to keep you hard and keep fucking you until you are bone dry. Thank you for helping save my life and giving me such a fantastic body. How does it feel to have a woman who can crush a cinder block with her thighs as your devoted sex slave?" Without waiting for a reply she smothered his mouth with her smile and he felt himself begin to faint with pleasure ...

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

(Fourteen months earlier ... )

The doctors called it Nonetiological Striated Muscle Bilateral Atrophy (NMBA) and Doreen was only the fifth case they'd seen in Boston. It was almost always a disease of the young, and to see it in a grown woman was almost unheard of. There were, therefore, no known treatments for NMBA in adults. Doreen was in her late 30s and I was eight when she had married my widowed dad. About eight years after the wedding she started developing an increasing weakness and sudden, temporary, numbness throughout her body. Doreen was a nice lady though not particularly attractive because her sweet face was offset by her being stocky. She had been a soccer player in college but had not been athletic since graduating. Her wealthy ex had not wanted kids so she had the time to be dedicated to my dad and to help raise me. She had money but worked part-time as an RN.

As her physical problems increased, her as then-undiagnosed illness caused her more and more difficulty in keeping-up with dad and me. Doreen became depressed and with my dad traveling so much she and I would talk almost every day. I tried to keep her spirits up. Little did we know how our relationship would change by the time I was a teenager.

During my senior year in high school Doreen's health had deteriorated to the point that she couldn't keep up with simply daily tasks. Desperate, my dad took her to see a specialist at the Sunderland Hospital in Boston. After a series of very thorough checks my stepmom got the awful news from Dr. Hannigan that she had NMBA, and that there were no proven treatments. However, the doctor then explained that there was a new and experimental treatment that had reached the stage of human testing. He also warned that with any such treatment the side effects were all theoretical, as was the putative cure. My dad and stepmom looked at one another and then he agreed to pay for the treatment, since insurance would not cover anything the company judged to be experimental.

The treatment, Dr. Hannigan explained, was a combination of drug, radiation, and genetic therapy. It involved combining injections of a human growth hormone with a gene stripper/recombiner believed to be responsible for accelerated growth of striated (voluntary) muscle and the development of enriched tissue carrying an excess of both blood vessels and nerve fibers. Hannigan again warned that the end result of trying to cure - or at least reverse - NMBA in humans might well make matters worse. Nonetheless, my dad and Doreen agreed to proceed.

Beginning the next week Doreen went to the hospital once a week for a combination of injections and ionizing radiation. The treatments resulted in several days of her feeling sick to her stomach and of a greater overall achiness and weakness. Dr. Hannigan compared it to the side effects of chemotherapy. Because I had recently earned my driver's license and Doreen usually felt too sick to drive home, I would drive her to and from the hospital. Sometimes she needed a blood transfusion and because she was my stepmom and the same blood type (AB), I would donate blood for her. How little we know.

The initial treatments lasted eight weeks, during which she felt, in her own words, "like shit." But she stuck it out and after the initial treatments ended she had to go to the hospital three times a week for rehab and follow-on injections; a course that would last over a year in total. The therapy room was well equipped with any number of devices with which to build strength and the therapists were well-trained and motivated to get the patients back on their feet. I would sit and wait while Doreen moved small weights, turned cranks, painfully worked ratchets, and did all the tasks on the "agony board" most often used by those who had had a hip or knee replacement and were getting back on their feet.

After about two months of the therapy room Doreen noticed that tasks were getting much easier. She soon maxed out on the weights and the staff had to bring-in greater weights for her to manipulate. Her achiness disappeared and in fact, she told me, she was feeling better and stronger than she had in years. She was talking to me more and more and smiling while she did so, sometimes giving me a strange look. Of course, I had been driving her to and from the hospital, so we had been spending much more time together. Soon, she was obviously feeling well enough to drive herself, but she asked that I continue to go with her to and from the hospital, and I, with not much of a social life, was content to go with her. She treated me like an adult and I loved that in her.

One day, after about ten weeks of her rehab, she stopped working the machine in the rehab room and said, "These weights are too light. I can do these with two fingers." Then she gave me a strange smile, leaned down, and put her fingers under the base of one of the "agony boards" and with little effort hoisted the entire apparatus over her head. She stood there for a moment with a puzzled smile on her lips, looking at me. I was startled to notice for the first time that her arms were much larger than they had been and that, in fact, larger than my own and very firm. Then she winked at me and lowered the device to the floor. Several therapists, startled at this display, bustled over by the time she had set the exercise machine down.

"Mrs. Daniels!" one said. "Be careful! That's very heavy! You have to obey the rules if you want to work-out here!" She looked at them, back at me with a wink, and replied, "Fine. I guess I've recovered as much as this equipment will allow." Looking at me again, she said, "Let's go, Ricky." As she walked from the room I glanced at the base of the machine, which read, "Caution: Machine weighs 220 pounds. Ensure proper placement and balance before using to prevent injury." Two hundred and twenty pounds! My penis suddenly sprang erect and I felt a wave of guilt wash over me as I followed my stepmom, hunched over a bit to hide my arousal.

Dr. Hannigan was very pleased the next time we visited his office. "Mrs. Daniels, your response to the treatment is better than I had hoped. The disease seems to be in remission, and in fact, your muscle mass and tone seems better than ever. The labs are a bit puzzling, but because the results have been so positive I've convinced the head of internal medicine to let the series continue."

My stepmom thought this over for a while. "That's wonderful, Dr. Hannigan. But I could have told you how great I feel. My dress size is down three sizes even though my arms and legs are so much more muscular and I feel healthier than I have since college. I just maxed-out the exercise board in Rehab. What were you saying about being surprised with the lab results?"

"It's the genetic analysis that has us puzzled," he replied. "As you know, we are combining drug therapy with ionizing radiation and genetic manipulation at the level of your DNA. We've been surprised to see some small changes in your RNA as well."

"What does that mean? Is it dangerous?"

No, I don't think so. RNA is more associated with memories and thought. Have you been having any memory problems?"

My stepmom thought a moment. "No, none I can think of."

"Then fine. Just keep exercising. Your recovery is due in part to that. Without it your muscles may relapse toward a NMBA state in the first year. We wouldn't want that."

Doreen paled for a minute, then said, "Don't worry, Doc. I plan to." She gave me a dazzling smile that made my legs weak. "Let's go, Honey." She took my hand and absently pulled me to my feet without effort. I stumbled, then caught my footing. Wow! She was strong!

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

After eight months the injections and radiation stopped but Doreen kept on exercising. Exercise became her drug and she worked-out almost every day. She needed special equipment. People at the gym she'd joined could only stare as she pressed over 380 pounds for reps. She could curl 450 pounds and bench 880. Her leg presses exceeded the limits of the machine. As she exercised and sweated, she entered a fugue state in which she didn't even see the ever larger crowd staring at her. Finally, Diane, the gym owner, approached her.

"Mrs. Daniels, let's talk." Diane licked her lips. She was an athletic blond who wore spandex shorts and a top. She addressed my stepmom but her eyes were glued to Doreen's huge arms. "I don't think our equipment is doing you much good anymore. If you like, you can work-out with me at my place. I have equipment there that might help." She wet her lips again as she continued to stare at Doreen's huge biceps.

Doreen saw the owner's excitement, glanced at me and smiled, then turned back. Flexing her right arm as if by coincidence she told the owner, "Thanks, but I think I'll get my own equipment." The owner continued to stare at my stepmom's mound of power and as Doreen flexed the owner's legs started to shake a little. Doreen was getting used to these looks from both men and women. With another mischievous wink at me she slowly brushed back her hair, causing her biceps to explode with shredded muscle. The gym owner gulped and then sat-down hard on a rowing machine. She gave a little groan and I was sure she'd just come in her spandex shorts. Doreen turned towards me. "Let's go, Honey."

Only Dad didn't seem to appreciate my stepmom's amazing muscle growth. He traveled a lot anyway, and when he was home I'd hear them arguing.

"Look ... Doreen ... " he'd started during one episode. "I am very glad that Hannigan's treatment has put your problem into remission and made you so healthy, but come on!" I could hear him pacing back and forth in the kitchen as he spoke. "Look at you! You're looking more and more like a man! Look at your muscles! They're bigger than any guy I know!"

That was for sure. I had guiltily started spending all of my masturbation time imagining my stepmom making love to me with her fantastic new body.

"Does it bother you that I can carry you to bed now and have my way with you?" She sounded both hesitant and proud.

"Yes, it does!" The anger in Dad's voice was pronounced. "It's not feminine!"

"Really?" There was a pause. "Let me flex for you. Does THIS look feminine? My biceps are 20 inches now and I can press twice your weight for reps. My bust is still a 36C."

I couldn't take any more. I threw himself on my bed and masturbated so hard that I hurt himself amid the pleasure. What was I going to do? I was masturbating 10-15 times a day. It was chewing-up most of my waking time. I had to keep making secret trips to the washer-drier.

"It's not enough!" Dad sounded both angry and scared. "I'm going to stay at the condo until you come to your senses." Then, near silence as Dad walked out of the room into the bedroom, followed by indistinct sounds, and then feet reapproaching the kitchen. "I love you, Doreen, but you are not the woman I married. The husband is supposed to be bigger and stronger than the wife." More sounds, then the door closing. Then, silence.

After I had tucked my chapped dick back into my pants I waited a minute, straightened-out my bed, and then walked to the kitchen. Doreen was still sitting at the table, looking lost.

"I'm sorry, mom. I couldn't help hearing."

She looked up and gave me a look of both thanks and ... something else.

"Thank you, Ricky. I'm sure it will all work out. I can't tell you how grateful I am to have you to be with in all this. Lately I've had men - and a few women - following me around with their mouths open. I guess what I'd really like is for you to follow me around with your mouth open."

Realizing what she'd said, she stopped and reddened. So did I. Could she know what I was feeling? Could she be feeling the same thing?

"I'm sorry. I'm really tired," she said, not meeting my eyes. "I guess we could both use an early night." She got up without a further word and left the kitchen. After a moment so did I, returning to my room, undressing, and getting into bed. I lay there, naked, running my hands across my body, pretending its was her doing it, my heart racing, my penis rigid with sexual excitement, picturing my stepmom lying in her bed, that ever more spectacular body just feet away. Unknown to me at that time, Doreen was thinking about me, too, and not in a motherly way. Quietly she closed her eyes, thought of her stepson in bed with her, and masturbated herself to a quick orgasm. 'I could rock his world!' she thought as she fell of into a troubled sleep.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Doreen sat alone with Dr. Hannigan. "I know it's not right, Doctor, but I can't seem to stop thinking more and more of my stepson in a physical way." Her eyes were tense with conflicting emotion. "I've always loved him as a stepson but now, especially since Alan left, I can't seem to stop thinking of him that way. He's not very big but he is sweet and I am finding him especially attractive since my treatments."

That's something I wanted to discuss with you, Doreen," he said. We keep reviewing the ongoing result of your treatment and it's very exciting for us." His face brightened. "Remember what I had said about unexpected changes in your RNA? Well, we've nailed that down." He continued more excitedly, sitting on the edge of his chair. "Remember that Ricky donated blood to you several times to help us out? Well, it seems that a side effect of your treatment is that you have incorporated into your RNA features of Ricky's. RNA is closely linked to memory and emotion. It seems that we have inadvertently invented a 'love potion.' You are increasingly coming to love Ricky at a molecular-genetic level and this is likely to accelerate. I know it's embarrassing but medicine does not take any opinions regarding morality." Almost as an afterthought, he added, "And exercise will have become as addictive to you as caffeine to most people. Not that that seems to be a problem." He looked both proud of his accomplishment and leery of how Doreen would react.

Doreen was stunned. That was it! Her increasing number of sexual fantasies about Ricky now had an explanation.

"What can we do about it?" she asked. "I can't go around increasingly sexually attracted to my stepson."

"Right now I don't have an answer," replied Hannigan. "But you do realize you consented to an experimental treatment for a deadly disease." He looked defensive.

"Yes, I know." Doreen's huge, muscular shoulders slumped and her eyes dropped to the floor. There was silence for a moment.

"As for your growth - you've added almost four inches in height because the treatment has caused renewed growth in your long bones - I don't think it will proceed much more. Perhaps another inch or two. Another effect from DNA tinkering, I believe. For future patients I'll have to warn them that they may need new wardrobes." He seemed pleased at his little joke.

'Little do you know,' Doreen thought. She had long blown-out her previous wardrobe as her muscles had doubled and tripled in size.

Breaking the quiet, Doreen rose in one smooth powerful motion, her thighs under her dress bunching to twice their previous size, unnoticed in the moment. "Thank you, Doctor. I know I have no option but to continue with the treatment and physical training." She left without a further word, her mind and emotions racing.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

After months of exercising at home, she had created a pretty respectable gym. Ricky's dad had a lot of money and, now legally separated until Doreen "came to her senses," his stepmom had plenty of money in their joint account for a home gym and spending most of her time in it. As her strength became ever greater, she had to get ever heavier weights and a "super exerciser" that allowed her to increase tension far beyond what was available at most gym supply stores. The husband of a college friend who was a machine designer tripled the resistance limit of her exerciser and Doreen had at this point over a ton of adjustable free weights.

She was doing chin-ups while holding 400 pounds of weights between her thighs one day when Ricky came home from school early. She had found exercise outfits confining and had blown the seams on several so she had taken to wearing just a stretch bikini she didn't even notice. She didn't hear Ricky and had her eyes closed, enjoying the sexual thrill she was now almost always experiencing when she pushed the weights. When she opened her eyes at the top of the 100th pull-up she saw him standing there, his eyes popped open wide, his mouth open, and an obvious erection pushing-out his trousers. She started to let herself down, then impulsively changed her mind and released one arm, smiled at him, and continued to do one-armed pull-ups very slowly while she held a seductive smile and stared at her stepson. She couldn't help it. She felt so good and strong and, yes, sexy. As she continued she tightened her waist muscles and pushed-out her impressive breasts, her erect nipples clear through the bra.

Ricky stood frozen for a moment, unable not to stare at his stepmom's incredible body, her ripped abs, huge bicep, and gigantic steely thighs easily supporting more than twice his own weight. Then, without conscious thought, he walked as if in sleep to her and gently kissing and licking her thighs as they continued their slow reciprocating motion up and down. He gave a small groan and Doreen watched a stain spread across his pants front, his eyes closed in rapture.

Doreen had a similar reaction. Ricky's soft kisses on her thunder thighs created a heat blossom in her groin which quickly resulted in an orgasm. Lord, he was so little, so sweet, so sexy, she thought. One part of her mind replied that he was just a teenager and a rather small and weak one at that, but her reconfigured RNA was screaming 'I want him!'

She quietly let lose the 400 pound weight she had been carrying and then, at the bottom of a pull-up, so gently wrapped her astonishingly sexy thighs around his waist and continued her slow pull-ups.

When Ricky felt himself being encircled by legs that could crush cinder blocks but were holding him ever so gently, he opened his eyes to see Doreen smiling down at him as he was lifted up by her one massive arm as if he weighed nothing.

Up and down, up and down he rode, held by thighs he had fantasized about since his stepmom's treatment had exploded her muscles. Ricky ran his hands up and down his stepmom's gigantic, ripped, sweat-slicked thigh, moaning with excitement. Gently, Doreen massaged Ricky's crotch between her legs, loving the feeling, as they rode until Ricky stiffened, closed his eyes, and orgasmed so hard he pulled a stitch in his side. After what seemed like another half hour, an utterly limp Ricky felt his feet lowered softly to the floor. His stepmom then let go of the bar and dropped beside him.

Neither one knew what to say at first. Then, both started speaking at the same time.

**"Mom, I don't"**"Ricky, I'm so"** Both paused again. Then Doreen spoke.

Ricky, I'm sorry. I should have stopped myself, but I didn't. I hope I haven't hurt you."

"HURT me? Mom - Doreen - I've been so turned-on by you since the treatments started. I didn't know what to say or what to do. It's not like you're my real mom ... " Doreen's face fell, and Ricky added hurriedly, " ... I didn't mean it that way! I love you and recently I've had ... some ... feelings ... towards you ... " His eyes fell and he blushed.

Doreen laughed with relief. "Honey, don't feel bad. Dr. Hannigan was just telling me that a side effect of the treatment seems to be that I've had no choice but to fall in love with you, so I guess we have a question to answer. I'd guess that if we stay living together I'll just be more and more attracted to you and that's not fair to you. If you want to go live with Dad in the condo I'll understand. But if you stay here I can't promise that I'll be able to keep my hands off you."

Another silence.

"Oh, Doreen ... ! I can't stop thinking about you. I see the girls at school and they seem so small and unsexy to me. I'll bet not one of them could lift more than 20 or 30 pounds."

Doreen couldn't help but smile. "You mean, not like this?" she said. Walking slowly to the weight rack she one-handed a huge barbell marked "280 pounds" and easily began pressing it over her head, giving Ricky a sexy smile. Slowly she approached Ricky, still pressing the weight with one hand, gently put her other arm around him, and began French kissing him. For the third time in less than an hour, Ricky exploded in orgasm as he felt her soft, strong tongue, play with his. Without thought his right hand dropped to her iron abs and started rubbing them, marveling at their hardness. How he wanted to worship them with his lips and tongue! His other hand began kneading her thigh, his mind swirling. Without missing a beat, Doreen laughed softly, put her hand on Ricky's butt, and lifted him clear of the ground. Ricky suddenly found himself being pressed above his stepmom's head with one arm as she continued to press the huge dumbbell with her other. He clutched at her hand for balance. He had to be dreaming, but this was real.

Doreen then lowered Ricky gently to the floor with one hand as she returned the barbell to its rack with the other. She again embraced her stepson, his face pressed more forcefully into her breasts. 'She is so big now!' he thought. Doreen then kissed him again, hard this time until he became short of breath, her iron arm bending him over backward. Finally releasing him she took a step back.

"Decision time, Ricky. If you want to go live with Dad that's fine. If you stay here with me I can't promise to be able to keep my hands off you. You know that means I'll want you for sex. I know how strong I am and I don't know if I can always control myself thanks to my new genes. I might hurt you by accident. I'll try not to. But right now I am fighting very hard not to just pick you up, tear your clothes of, carry you to bed, and fuck your brains out." She suddenly did a double bicep pose, her muscles becoming huge and frightening. Then she smiled and softened again. "But I can tell you that I'll love you like no other woman. I know that you're 18 and I'm almost 46, but I hope that doesn't make a difference. I doubt if any of the little girls at school your age can compete with this body." She tightened one leg and it exploded into a pillar of muscle upon muscle, all incredibly sexy. Then she seemed to run out of words.

Ricky had been frozen with surprise, lust, and confusion.

"Mom ... Doreen ... I ... I ... Yes! I want you so much! You're my fantasy come true! Please! Carry me to the bedroom! I'm scared and I don't know what to do, but just surround me with your sexy muscles and make love to me! I'll try so hard to please you!" He looked desperate.

Doreen gave a long, low laugh. "Ricky, you silly. Don't you know that it's my job to please you? I want you so much that if you just touch me I start to come! I don't know whether to curse or thank Hannigan. But if ever there was a lucky young man, it's you. You have your own super-muscular sex slave. And I have the only genetically-determined object of my lust and love." Without another word she picked Ricky up and on the way to the bedroom undressed him with one hand, cloth ripping, her mouth hungrily locked to his. She didn't even make it to the bed as she ripped off her bikini, and, using him as her sex toy, inserted his penis into her and, still standing, fucked him, her amazing arms moving him in and out of her, his feet half a foot from the floor. Ricky couldn't believe his luck or how great it felt. Nor did he fully believe it when, three days later, they finally left the bedroom, Doreen hungry and Ricky so thoroughly fucked-out that he couldn't walk and had to be carried, his penis chaffed raw, his mouth bruised with three days of muscle kisses, and his arms and legs rubber bands.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

... until she finally lowered Ricky again to the floor. Ricky, as usual, felt as if he had just been through a blender. He ached most of the time now. His mind was full of her, his senses soaked with her. He had a permanent dumb smile now and people wondered who his obviously incredible lover could be. He stood unsteadily in her arms, absently stroking her granite-hard, 22- inch bicep that could pick-up the back of her car but was so sexy with him.

"You know," she said, "I never adopted you."

For a moment, Ricky was blank. He didn't know where she was going.

"So, let's make it legal. Marry me. I'm going to fuck your brains out for the rest of our lives anyway, so why not. As long as I have no choice but to love you and want you, why not let us be together as man and wife." Ricky suddenly heard what she was saying. His thoughts stuttered. As deeply in lust and love as he was with her, a note of caution rang in his mind. She was so incredibly strong and sexy now. Besides being able to curl the back of her car with one arm, she gave grown men - and some women - heart attacks when she went to the apartment complex's pool in one of her bikinis. Her phone had been ringing all the time with pleas for dates and offers of gifts until she got an answering machine and began screening the calls. Had she been a coarser woman, she might have taken advantage of these people. But she remained usually sweet and besides could see only Ricky, her Ricky, her new genes proving her destiny. Yet he felt fear from time to time after they had made love and she had displayed her awesome body and strength. They had had to replace their four-poster bed with one of large gauge iron after Doreen had, during one session, crushed the cherry wood bed frame to splinters with her hands when she came. Another time he had been sunning himself on their balcony when she had silently come up behind him, naked, had pulled-off his trunks, and had then wordlessly picked-up the lounger with him on it, had placed both between her legs, and had carefully fucked him while her impossible thighs had crushed the chair to trash, its mangled metal dropping to the deck as they finished. Another time, when a neighbor had made a nasty remark about her and Ricky while they were returning to their apartment from the pool, Doreen had flashed with anger, picked the neighbor up as if he were a feather, thrown him into his apartment all the way to crash against the back wall, and then put her fist through his plaster and lathe front wall up to her elbow. Then, with her arm still embedded in the wall, she slowly flexed it and as her muscles expanded, the wall disintegrated in stages as the neighbor watched in horror (although his fear didn't prevent him for getting a pitifully small boner). They never heard another word from him and Ricky had been ashamed of the instant erection he got when he had watched Doreen perform this feat of strength. When they got back to the apartment it had been him tearing at her clothes - her muscles, her body - so excited was he to fuck her.

All this flashed through his mind at Doreen's suggestion. Then he leaned into her arms, her body solid granite covered by the softest, sweetest skin, and replied, "Yes. I'll marry you." She then teared-up, smiled, picked him up, inserted him into her, and gave him a deep French kiss as the muscle screw began. "You may kiss the bride," she said. 'Life could be worse,' he thought, before his thoughts whirled away in another burst of pleasure ...