Grandma Muscles Part 3
By Merz
An older woman turns her family upside down when she comes to visit one summer


I love my mother. She's embarrassed me my entire life, but I love her. All of
us kids moved away from our hometown right after school partly to get away
from her and her influence. Three of us have families and we get together
almost every year. I see my sister Michelle and her two kids most
Thanksgivings and sometimes at Christmas. And we all see my mother almost
every year. When she started making plans for a four week visit I was a little
apprehensive, but my wife, Ashley, persuaded me it would be fine. We four kids
had several conferences about it and it turned out she wants to rotate these
long stays among each of us, once each year. She might still make shorter
visits or we would visit her, but she wanted to have a longer stretch to get
to know her grandchildren better. I'm the oldest so I was up first, even
though Michelle has a son a year older than my Angela.

I thought things were going all right. Angie and mom really seemed to be
getting along great. At dinner each night I'd hear them talking about the
things they had done during the day, like bike rides and trips to the library.
I knew mom was doing her usual obsessive exercising and that Angela and the
little neighbor girl Melinda would watch. That didn't worry me too much
because mom had put us through the same ordeal when I was growing up. I
figured Angie would get tired of it pretty quickly and get back to being a
healthy, balanced kid. On weekends we had little outings to museums or parks.
Once we took a trip out to Horseshoe Lake where mom made a spectacle of
herself by swimming behind the boat for about a mile as I rowed us back from
where we had had our picnic. I got her covered up as soon as she came out of
the water so folks wouldn't be staring at her. Ashley and Angela had actually
encouraged her to do it and acted like it had been something a sane woman her
age might try, and they acted like her body was something to be proud of
instead of freakish when she stepped onto the beach in her bathing suit.

Halfway through the fourth week when the finish line seemed in view things
fell apart. I had a long, stressful day at the office. A problem with one of
the branch offices I thought I had settled two weeks before blew up again so I
had spent the day on the phone and in increasingly hostile meetings. When I
got home late I was surprised no one else was around. It was Ashley's turn to
cook and she and I had talked about how late I would be getting home. Instead
of coming in to the smell of dinner cooking or a family ready to take my mind
off my problems, I found an empty house.

After changing out of my suit I stewed a little and had a couple drinks until
finally the three of them came through the door. They were in a jolly mood.
Ashley apologized for being late but then Angie jumped in to say their evening
weight lifting session had taken longer than usual because my wife was still
learning the proper forms and figuring out how much she needed to lift for
each exercise. Honestly, that's the first I knew about any of the weight
lifting sessions that my mother had been holding for weeks.

I turned to Ashley, speechless. "Angela's just a kid. She's too young to be
lifting weights. Her bones are still developing. Did you know this was going
on?" I finally blurted out.

"Of course," she replied. She looked puzzled at my reaction. "Madeline talked
with Chuck and he agreed that Melinda and Angela could learn to use the weight
set that's been sitting in their garage since they moved in. She's been
supervising and coaching so it's perfectly safe. I started joining them this
week. I wish I had started sooner. An hour lifting with the girls eats up most
of the tension I bring home in the evenings, and I started feeling my muscle
tone improving from the very first time. Brace yourself, Paul. We're going to
have our own weight set in the basement as soon as Madeline can take me to a
good sports store to help me pick out what we need. That way if I lose track
of time when I exercise I'll still hear you come home. Just these few days
exercising helped me remember how good I felt about myself when I lost that
weight after my pregnancy. I'm going to get that figure back again and then
I'm moving on to muscles of my own. Madeline has really opened my eyes on some
possibilities. She taught me that exercise itself can be a reward, not just
the results, but you can expect to see some results, mister."

She actually seemed to think my reaction was odd. "Ashley, you're a grown
woman. I can't tell you what to do, but I hope you'll come to your senses
before you start looking like a muscle bound freak. And I can damn sure
protect my daughter from getting caught in this. Angel, you are not to do any
more weight lifting. It's a waste of time and dangerous for someone your age.
Do I make myself clear?"

"Daddy, there's nothing dangerous. Grandma showed us how to be safe and how to
lift so we don't hurt our backs or anything. I'm going to be strong, just like
her, and have big muscles instead of being fat like I am."

"You aren't fat! Where did you get such an idea? You're a beautiful young girl
and I won't let you spoil that with any of this exercise nonsense. While you
live in my house you'll do as you're told. Do I make myself clear?"

"Oh, put a sock in it, son. You're using all my old speeches and they sound as
dumb now as they did when I used them on you kids. Except I insisted that you
had to exercise." My mother was leaning against the doorframe, her arms
crossed as she massaged her upper arms. "There's absolutely no harm in Angie
wanting to improve her physical condition. She's already showing progress.
I've had about a decade of experience coaching bodybuilders and I can see real
potential in her. The best thing you can do is get out of her way and let her
find out how far she can take the gifts God gave her."

"Yeah, Dad. Just because you turned into a wimp doesn't mean I have to. I'm
going to have the muscles you weren't smart enough to get when Grandma gave
you the chance." Angie spoke with a nastier tone than I had ever heard from
her. I spun and grabbed her arm as tightly as I could. In a rage I drew back
my hand to deliver the first slap I would ever give my little girl.

Mother grabbed my wrist and wrapped her arm around my throat, pulling me away
from Angie before I did something I would have regretted. She held me for a
moment, then pulled me over backwards so I sprawled on the floor at her feet.

"If I saw any other man try to strike Angela I would break his back," she
hissed at down me and planted herself solidly with her feet apart and her
fists on her hips.

Ashley had moved quickly across the room and stood next to Mother, with Angela
behind them. "Paul, have you lost your mind? If Angela says she wants to
improve her health and fitness why would you object? And as for me, I'll lift
weights everyday for the rest of my life if I can look more like this," she
said as she reached across Mother's shoulders. "And if I could start to feel
like this. Oh my!" she added in a rather astonished tone as she gripped
Mother's upper arm first casually and then with real attention, beginning to
caress and squeeze with both hands.

I scrambled to my feet and confronted the trio. "Ashley, stop that. You look
ridiculous." She had continued to feel the thick arm that was overflowing her
hand and began tracing the pulsing vein that ran across the biceps. Mom stood
as solid and impassive as a stone statue. "We need to talk about this
privately, not in front of Mother or Angela," I told my wife as

calmly as I could. She flushed pink as she reluctantly dropped her curious
hands and faced me again.

"There really isn't anything to talk about. Angela and I are going to spend
time exercising and lifting weights. It's possible we will get tired of it,
but I really don't think that's apt happen. We have a lot we want to
accomplish," she told me with another long look up and down my mother's solid
frame. "If you insist on talking about it, it's as much Angela's business as
yours and mine. And Madeline knows a lot more about fitness than any of us."

"I think you and I need to get a little fresh air so you can cool off," Mother
told me with a little smile. "Ashley, if you and Angie want to get dinner
ready we'll be in in about half an hour. Come on, son." She pointed the way
out to the backyard. "Pull the curtains, Ashley. This is private," she said as
she followed me outside.

Once outside I turned on her. "How dare you interfere. . ." I had begun my
tirade when her flat hand crashed against the side of my face. The blow came
so suddenly and so hard I stumbled backward and I sat down, the whole side of
my face throbbing.

"You remember the one time I gave you a good spanking?" Mother snapped at me.
"You were 17 and thought you were too old to follow my rules. You deserve
another one. The rules I set back then were meant for your own good. Outside
of the time we set aside for family exercising every day and my diet rules I
left you kids to make up your own minds on most things. You're trying to
prevent Angie from deciding what kind of a person she wants to grow up to be
and how she wants to look. That isn't fair to her and frankly you're too late.
I've shown her a vision of a strong, healthy woman and she likes it. I've
taught her how to build the body she wants and I don't think there's a thing
you can do to stop her now."

She was pacing in front of me, her fists clenching and unclenching, her
forearms seething. "Maybe I should just stand back and wait a few years for
her to give you the beating you deserve. But I'm sick of your insults to me so
I'm going give you a preview. If you don't get the message tonight, Angela
will make sure you do if you keep trying to cripple her with your own fear of
exercise. You've called me a freak for the last time. You've tried to make me
ashamed of being strong and loving the muscles the good lord gave me. You've
tried to embarrass me in front of your wife and my granddaughter. Get up."

I slowly got to my feet. "Mother, you're talking crazy. I apologize for
anything I may have said, but I'm not going to have a fight with you. I'm too
old and too big for this sort of nonsense, and you're certainly too old to be
talking like this." She had stopped her pacing and was rolling the sleeves of
her t- shirt up to her shoulders, emphasizing the size and muscle-packed
leanness of her upper arms. The thick veins throbbed down each bicep and her
deltoids looked like bronze cannonballs.

She got that little half smile on her face again, then she took action. She
darted forward and grabbed me around the middle, pinning my arms to my sides
as she lifted me up a couple feet before slamming me down hard to the ground.
I started to get up fast to protest but she was quicker. She grabbed me in a
headlock before I was all the way up and tightened her arm down hard around my
skull. I fought against the pressure, trying to force her hands open to break
her grip on me but it was useless.

"Go ahead, son, show me you're too big for this," she mocked me. I pushed
against her arms but it was like trying to force open a vice. I gripped a
bicep as round and hard as a doorknob and fought to resist the crushing force
it exerted. "I guess they're about half an inch bigger than when I'd wrestle
with you kids," she commented. "Maybe a little denser, too." Then she stepped
in front of me and dragged me flying over her hip and back to the ground.

This time she followed me down and began grinding my face into the grass,
twining her arms around mine and nearly clamping a full nelson on me. I
struggled against her weight and strength, trying to get my legs under me and
to find a way to grab her. Her crotch was pressed tightly against my butt as I
squirmed and struggled, her legs clamping against mine to restrict my
movements. I managed to inch my way up against her resistance, but then she
released me and grabbed my legs out from under me. I landed hard a third time
and she slammed down on top of me, pinning my wrists above my head and
straddling me. She looked down grinning at my struggles. I could feel the
warmth of her crotch through my light shirt, the warmth of her breath in my
face. Using all my strength I managed to arch, twist and buck her off. I got
up instantly before she could catch me on the ground again.

For a moment she lay on the grass with a pleased look on her face. Then she
rolled backward and pushed herself into a handstand before piking out of it to
resume standing. She executed the move as smoothly as a teenage gymnast might.
"You're puffing like an old steam engine, Paul." She paced back and forth a
couple times as she knotted her t-shirt below her breasts, exposing her
corrugated midsection.

She was right. Getting free from her grip and getting to my feet had taken
everything I had. I was gasping for air and a few seconds to recover. Mom
looked as fresh as when she had walked in the door with Ashley and Angela.

"You were in good shape when I sent you into the world, Paul. Show me what
you've made of yourself. Show me what you think will keep this old lady from
kicking your butt," she laughed at me. "You think I'm a freak, but I'm just
doing things I taught you to do up till you were 18. Did that make you a freak
then, or does being beaten by a woman make you one now?"

"I'm an average guy. No woman was meant to be like you. All those muscles
you're so proud of - they don't belong on you. No other woman looks like that.
I remember Grandmother Anderson. She looked like what women your age are
supposed to look like. " I finally had my breathing under control again and
could get out complete sentences between gasps.

"You don't know a thing about Mother. Someday I'll show you pictures of her as
a young girl, slim but always careful to keep her arms covered. She was
embarrassed to have arms like the village smithy, like mine. You know I grew
up on a farm in the Depression. I saw Mother doing a man's work many times
when we couldn't afford to hire help. She could put a hundred pound feed sack
over her head a lot easier than you ever could. But she lived on a meat and
potatoes, mid-west farm diet so eventually she carried too much weight. She
didn't live to be much older than I am now. I learned to combine diet and
exercise. And no matter what you say, that bulge in your pants tells me you
don't mind the feel of female muscle as much as you say."

I became aware of a painful erection pressing against the front of my jeans.
If my face could have gotten any redder I would have blushed at her noticing
and pointing it out.

"That's what's behind all your nonsense about exercise, isn't it? You either
read one book too many in high school or one book too few. Muscles on women
turn you on, and you think that makes you Oedipus because I'm the only woman
you've seen who has them. Forget it. Picture Ashley looking like me and doing
this," she said as she suddenly piled into me again.

She drove her shoulder into my stomach and my air escaped in a painful rush.
She lifted me again and dropped me hard on the ground. As I sat up she leaped
in and caught me in a leg scissors from the front. I felt my ribcage crushing
inward as she tightened her legs. Pushing as hard as I could didn't lessen her
pressure one iota. As I writhed in agony she lay back on the ground with her
hands behind her head. One of my legs was folded under me and she was lying
across the other. She had me trapped, unable to get my feet under me or to
reach far enough forward to grab her.

"Imagine these are Ashley's legs. Feel how strong. Go ahead, feel them and
picture they belong to your wife." She eased her pressure just enough to keep
me from blacking out. "That's it, feel the muscles. Feel the power. It isn't
because I'm your mother that you like to feel strong muscles. It's because you
remember what having a strong body yourself felt like, how good it felt to be
able to do anything you wanted with your body. You won't get away until I let
you."As I gasped for air, clamped tightly between her legs, I became aware of
her smell for the first time. I smelled her sweat from her earlier exercising
and from what little exertion humbling me had required. And I smelled her
musky female smell as she crushed me between her legs. It was an animal
mixture that began arousing me more than before. I closed my eyes so I
wouldn't see her lying there, making it seem like holding me helpless in her
grasp was the easiest thing she had ever done. With my eyes closed and my
hands feeling for any weakness or leverage on her powerful thighs I followed
her words and did picture Ashley holding me like this. Overpowering desire
swept me.

"Please, Mother. Let me go. You're right. This is what I want from my wife,
and it's what I'll want in my daughter's life. I've wasted so much time. Help
me."

She released me and rolled smoothly up to her feet. I had to lie a few more
moments getting my breath back, then she helped me to my feet. "Paul, I'm
going to flex my arms for you, like you kids always asked me to do when you
were young. Feel them, squeeze and then tell me you don't like muscles. Your
wife just told you she was getting ready to build up her own. You could be
part of that, part of making her body the sort you grew up thinking was
special. She's going to do it with you or without. It's your marriage so you
better make up your mind." With a wink she added, " If you can't meet her
needs when she starts looking to test her strength, you might just find
someone else muscling you aside."

As we stood in my backyard, me admiring her strength as I had done for the
first half of my life I realized she was right. I was imagining Ashley with
muscles like these and I knew I wanted to see that vision come true. Mom was
suggesting I play Pygmalion and help build my wife in the image of beauty I
had kept secret even from myself.

Our dinner was a quiet one that night. Mom and I quickly changed into fresh
clothes and never mentioned what had happened. In the few days remaining
before she left for home I tried to make up to Ashley and Angela. The next
evening we all went shopping for a weight set. I insisted on adding a leg
machine just to show I supported the project. The whole family worked setting
up the weights, laying down mats and hanging the chinning bar across the
doorway in our basement rec room. It was time to take mom to the airport
before we had everything set up, but I know she was pleased to see us all
working together that way.

Once again my mother had embarrassed me. I knew everything she did, she did
because she loved me and wanted the best for me. When I had stood in the
backyard, feeling her strength expanding under my hands I remembered how much
I love my mother.

AFTERWARD I settled into my seat on the airliner and started getting my things
set up for the flight. I attached the heavy rubber bands to the frame of the
seat ahead of me so I'd be able to work my arms, shoulders and legs as we
flew. I got out the ball of putty I squeeze to improve my grip and my forearm
strength. I set up my tape player so I could listen to a couple of Jack
LaLanne's tapes while I worked my muscles. I just hoped I wouldn't be trapped
next to some fatty whose soft flesh would be spilling over the arm of my seat.
Well, I have ways of dealing with that, convincing them it's safer to take a
walk or hide in the lavatory during the flight rather than sit next to an Iron
Broad.

As the plane filled and the crew prepared for take-off I thought back over my
visit. I think four weeks with Grandma Muscles was the perfect way to start
the summer for Paul's family. He may not agree yet, and he may never get the
message. That would be too bad for him. His little girl is going to blossom
from being a butterball in the making into a first class physique athlete. She
has my genes and now she has my motivation. If he tries to get in her way he's
apt to get hurt in just a few years.

And Ashley is on her way to transforming her own body in ways Paul doesn't
fully expect. That could also prove dangerous for Paul if he doesn't get busy
with his own conditioning. My late husband and I never talked about our sex
life with our kids. That sort of thing just wasn't discussed back then. They
don't know I got bored with his weak efforts when he was on top of me. They
never heard about the big blow-up when I decided to take over in the bedroom
like I had most other parts of our life together. My husband did decide he
liked feeling my big muscles in the dark when I rode him to exhaustion. But I
still feel a little guilty. I knew he never exercised so I probably should
have seen his heart attack was inevitable under the working over my hard body
would give him before I was satisfied. I expect Ashley learned some new tricks
from me that she'll either want Paul to try in bed, or she'll build herself up
until she can try them on him. Either way, right now Paul wouldn't be up to
the job and could end up hurt that way, too.

I don't know what to expect when I pay my long visits to the other kids and
their families. Michelle's older son is a teenager and a bookworm. There's
nothing wrong with reading as long as he doesn't let it get in the way of
living. I'll take that tack and see where it leads us. Scott's kids are
younger so we'll just emphasize playing outside and maybe talk about how
regular exercise can be part of play and can make our play later in life all
the more fun. And I'll just spend time with Joanie talking about us and maybe
find out if she'll ever decide to have kids.

From this visit I'll always treasure so many precious memories. The last one
will shine the brightest. The night I had my talk with Paul I took a shower
before turning in. When I went to my room Angela crept across the hall to join
me. Over the weeks she saw I had made my body special, but she was mostly
interested in the activities we got to do together. Now she wanted to explore.
I slipped off my robe to let her explore every inch as she rubbed my lotion
into my skin. Then I did my posing routine and let her feel the muscles as I
flexed them one by one and as I relaxed them into firm repose. I'll never
forget her excitement as she felt my arms, my back, my legs. She measured my
muscles and rubbed and squeezed them -- so she would always remember, she
said. She told me she wants to make hers even bigger. Well, bigger isn't
always better, but we can have those conversations after she establishes her
base and begins training with a purpose. But rocking my loving little girl to
sleep in my bed that night, wrapped in the arms of her Grandma Muscles, will
be a memory I'll carry with me forever.

Oh, now, this is a pleasant surprise. A middle-aged man is storing his tennis
racket along with his bag in the overhead bin and sitting down next to me.
Nice forearms, nice wide shoulders, nice tight rear. He looks like he's been
around enough to be able to appreciate talking about the delights of family as
well as exercise routines. It's a direct flight so he might live or be laying
over in my town for a while. He might be the sort who can appreciate a
wrestling session with a woman full of surprises and this trip will pay for
itself. If I can judge his type, this might be a chance to get out the black
leather and the blonde wig.