Digging through old county records revealed only that the Covenant of the Holy Messiah were a very old order of nuns dating back to at least Norman times. The only item of note was that they survived Henry VIII’s reformation wholly intact, the King strangely deciding not to touch them as he ransacked the Church elsewhere. They were very reclusive but I confirmed that they owned the retirement home at Cathanger so I decided to begin my investigations there. However apart from some very feisty randy old women coming on to me as though they hadn’t had it in years (which they probably hadn’t), I couldn’t spot anything out of the ordinary. In fact, the residents seemed well cared for and had excellent facilities including an indoor swimming pool that looked very inviting and a small but well equipped gym.

“Work till you’re muscle bound all day long” Spandau Ballet was blaring out of the speakers as I entered the gym tucked away in the basement. As I gazed at the strange contraptions all gleaming chrome and heavy weights, I imagined the horny old dears secretly building rock hard muscular bodies under their frumpy clothes, coming here to pump themselves up and getting even hornier. In fact the very thought was making me horny until a metallic clink made me aware that I was not alone and drew my attention to a woman standing at a machine with her back to me.

I gawped in astonishment. It was like my fantasy had come true. The woman is clearly of advanced years judging by her short curly greying hair although I never expected such a skimpy blue thong bikini. What really takes my breath away is a heaving mass of rippling muscle in her back as she pulls down on a metal bar attached to a pulley system that lifts some weights. Amazingly well defined, it writhes in a sensual motion of muscular contours and striations that roots me to the spot. Each individual muscle group in her back stands in bold relief like a medical diagram. Down the centre of her back is a clear deep channel with a thick mass of striated muscle where her shoulder blades meet. All of this is in constant motion as she works out, individual muscles growing and contracting as she pulls the metal bar down then lets the weights return it in a controlled manner. The fit old lady isn’t massive neither is she frail looking but stands around 5’5” with a fairly slim body, however she packed a lot of well-defined muscle into it. I drank in the shape of her hourglass figure, broad hard ridged shoulders with rippling bulging lats sloping inwards to a slim waist before curving sensuously out to her hips. Her tight compact buttocks were shockingly shown off to full advantage by the thong briefs and looked much sexier than any old woman had a right to. She certainly had a great backside that stirred my loins. Below this, there was a hint of old wrinkled skin but overall her legs looked slender and long with a hint of firm hamstrings and long hard calves.

As she raised her arms to pull down the bar again, her shoulder caps split into a well-defined mass of muscle atop lean arms with thick cords running along the length of her biceps and toned vascular forearms. Pulling the bar, I marvel with growing appreciation at the thickly corded swell of her shoulder caps and the dense mass of muscle at the back of her arms. A firm hard ridge forms along the top of her biceps then bunched and swelled into small hard peaks. Her glutes flexed into very sexy tight hard balls that made my groin twitch. I knew I should leave or make my presence known but I was mesmerised by the sight of this elderly woman working out and becoming turned on by the sight of muscles in motion.

Up and down went the bar over and over again. The play of the thick muscles in her back holds my rapt attention. As she pulled the bar down once more, the thick slabs of vertical muscle where her shoulder blades met were like continental shelves colliding with a deep fault line between them then moving apart as the bar rose again. I really should go and was about to tear myself away when she bent a leg slightly causing the hamstrings to swell. Her foot bent forward onto her bare toes and her slim toned calves flexed solidly into diamond shapes with a deep cleft forming a thick cliff above the slimness beneath. It was no use, I just to stay and watch this granny bodybuilder quietly like a peeping tom, wondering whether she looked as good from the front as she did from the back.

The elderly woman moved her feet wide apart as she continued her repetitions, adopting a semi-crouch that caused a thick triangular wedge of muscle to extend either side from her glutes. She crouched lower, the lively toned muscles in her back writhing and rippling, her backside looking seriously powerful. The woman looked seriously ripped despite her age and size. With all this pumping female muscle on display, my manhood was becoming seriously stiff.

Suddenly the old woman let go of the bar and pulled her arms down into a double biceps pose. The top of her back was a cushion of thick bulging muscle; the vertical slabs where her shoulder blades met resembled a big pair of sideways lips. I could now see the thick solidity of her biceps. She started to turn and I began to panic. There wasn’t enough time to get to the door without being seen. How was I going to explain to this old muscle woman why I was standing there watching her? Would she believe me if I told her that I had only just come in? I couldn’t take my eyes off her amazingly conditioned body as she stretched her arms out. The shoulder caps and triceps were like big rocks strung along a rocky shore, her forearms were vascular and striated by thick cords of tendons.

Seeing her for the first time in profile, I was stunned by how large her chest was. Two full mounds of female flesh hang low on her chest, barely contained by a small blue bra. Yet even the top of that impressive chest is pillowed by thick striated muscle. I can also see how flat and firm her stomach is. Her arm lowers into a triceps pose and I am so engrossed with how large they look that I am slow to realise that the woman had her head turned to look straight at me. Panicking at being caught out looking, I desperately sought to think of an excuse. Any excuse would do, but nothing came to mind and I found myself gawping at the large pillows of breast cupped by her small bra. The woman’s voice broke the spell. “Hello James. It’s about time you came and visited your mother”.

I looked at her face in amazement, recognition dawning. It was her; it was my own mother who I hadn’t seen for many long years after she disappeared with another man just before my father died. The curly hair was still worn short, showing the ears and forehead but thicker on the top in the 50’s style she favoured, although the dark brown had largely turned to grey. Though now greatly aged and wrinkled, she was still quite elegant looking with a small slightly long face, with piercing brown eyes outlined with eyeliner and pale blue mascara. Her nose was sleek and slender leading to a medium sized mouth with thin lips glossed in a bright red lipstick. “Well haven’t you got anything to say to your dear old mother?” she said with a slight smile that emphasized her high cheekbones and the wrinkles around her mouth. Although her jaw was firm, her chin also showed her age.

“I didn’t know that you were here. You never told anyone where you had gone to” I struggled with the first words to speak with the woman who I had lost contact with for an awful long time without expressing the bitterness and sense of betrayal that the rest of the family felt. She turned to face me fully now and I struggled not to look at her large chest as it bobbed in front of me. I had never seen my mother show much of her body before, she always dressed demurely and kept covered at all times. As I got older I realised that she had a large dangling package stuffed beneath her blouse. Although no wider than her body, it hung quite low, a thought that I used to quickly change in embarrassment as a young man. It was therefore a shock to see so much of her on display and I found it hard not to look, especially with the amazing condition her body was in. A hint of a knowing smile made me self-conscious. “You’re looking good, mother. Very fit and healthy” I told her. “Yes. I saw you standing there watching me in the mirror at the back of the gym. Standing there admiring mummy’s body from behind. Well now you can take a good look from the front” she told me sending a flush of embarrassment to my cheeks. She had seen me looking!

The thing is, when somebody says something like that to you, you can’t help but look. I looked at the scantily clad figure before me, trying to get to grips with the idea that this fit toned body belonged to my elderly mother who never showed off her body and was certainly never the athletic type. Looking past the big bust, the sight of a firm stomach with pavement like slabs of abdominal muscle visible just beneath the surface and the outlines of relaxed quadriceps sent a throb through the stiff member in my trousers. That made me blush more, I had a hard-on in front of my mother. “You look amazing” I said. I mean what else could I say to my mum? I could hardly tell her that her body was driving me crazy; that I wanted to feel her all over, caressing every muscular curve and bulge while I got harder and harder until I lost self-control and kissed her in heated passion. My eyes were rooted on her incredible body. “I mean it. You look simply amazing” I said in a mixture of awe and yearning. “That it’s James. Take a good look at mummy’s body” she told me as I continued to stare self-consciously at my mother’s amazing body, unable to tear my eyes away.

“When did you get into bodybuilding?” I asked, uncomfortable with the way she looked at me as I gawped at her body. “What else is there to do in here? I’m not one for sitting around and vegetating. They have a good gym here that hardly anyone uses and that reminded me of those magazines that you tried to keep secret from me. So I built my body just for you, James. Just like those women in those magazines you had in your cupboard along with those women’s self-defence books”. I looked up as a hot blush raced up my face shocked to hear that she had invaded my personal space when I was a teenager and found my stash of magazines. In those days before the Internet, I thought I was strange, the only man to find muscular women erotically attractive. Even pictures of them in magazines were rare and I had to subscribe to American journals such as WASP (later to become WPW) to get my fix. “Oh don’t look so shocked. I had to dust in there when I cleaned your room. Be thankful that your father never saw them, he would have thought you were a homosexual” she said casually as she ripped apart the deep dark secret of the formulative years of my perversion. “Oh, at first I was disgusted that you liked women who looked more like men but then thought that it was just a phase that you would grow out of. When I came here with plenty of time on my hands, I remembered those magazines of yours and began to appreciate how powerful and sexy a body like that must make a women feel. So I started lifting a few light weights and loved the way my body responded then tried some more. Soon I was seriously into it, in here every day for hours at a time pumping iron and changing my diet to lose bodyfat and bulk up. I love the look of my body and how strong I’ve become and best of all, James, I built this body just for you. To become the perfect woman for you. To make your dreams come true”.

Her words were like a bolt out of the blue. I had to run them several times through my mind to confirm that I had heard them correctly. Was this a sign of senility? It didn’t seem to be; yet we had thought she had gone a bit funny after she had a stroke just after my father. Unlike my father, my mother seemed to recover physically if not mentally. Then she ran off with a man who preyed on women in her situation, undoubtedly leading to my father’s steep decline before he passed away. “I’m not sure that I understand” I told her carefully. “I came here to investigate the Covenant, I didn’t expect to find you here”. “Well you won’t find any of them here. They keep themselves to themselves doing God’s Holy work” she told me.

My mother stepped closer, the presence of so much flesh making me uncomfortable. She cupped her breasts and spoke seductively. “Look at me James. Look what a beautiful powerful body your mother has built for you. Go on, feel it. Feel my body. Feel my muscles. I know how much you want to. Just look at that bulge in your trousers. You really want mummy don’t you?”. I was shocked at what I was hearing but the ghastly truth was that she was right. Her amazing body was turning me on but the thought of lusting after my own mother was a major taboo sending my emotions into turmoil. “Please, don’t talk like that. It’s not right. I’m your son” I pleaded as she came close. “No, don’t turn away, James. Look at what your mother has done for you” she told me, gently turning my face in her hands to look at her. My eyes fall upon her thrusting breasts, sending a surge of unwanted lust through my groin, before I look back at her face. She gave a knowing smile then said with a little chuckle “Yes, it’s alright to look, dear. I want you to look. The exercise has even firmed up my bust. They don’t even sag anymore”. Again, her words triggered an automatic response and I found myself staring at her breasts before I forced myself to look away.

A plastic bottle was thrust into my hands. “Here, rub some baby oil onto mummy’s body and I’ll give you a little show all to yourself. Go on” she told me. “I’m not sure this is right” I mumbled. “James. Do as you are told!” she said in a loud commanding voice that made me obey out of instinct. She turned her back towards me and put her hands on her waist, her lats spreading into a vast inverted triangle of taut skin. Tipping some of the lotion into my palms, I tentatively reached out and started applying it to my mother’s back. “Go on. Rub it really well. Make sure every inch of it is covered” she instructed. I started to rub the oil, marvelling at the feel of the taut lumpy muscles that covered her back like a contour map of a very hilly terrain divided vertically by a deep striated canyon straight down the centre of her back. It felt so good that I soon became totally engrossed. “You have such an incredible back” I moaned before remembering who I was feeling. I thought I heard a quiet chuckle.

She flexed her biceps for me to oil at the back. “Oh mummy!” I groaned softly as I ran my hands over the thick peak that had formed there and the triceps that swelled beneath. “That’s right, Son. Feel how big and hard mummy’s biceps are” she said. The feel of big hard feminine muscle glistening with oil slick under my palms wasn’t allowing my stiffy to go down; in fact it was making it worse. I had to keep reminding myself to get a grip and that this fit hot body belonged to my aged mother. She must have known the effect she was having because she flexed her arms several times to pump them up, making the peak even bigger. “Oh God!” I moaned highly aroused with a throbbing erection barely able to stop myself kissing her peaks passionately. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be doing this” I apologised profusely, acutely ashamed at my thoughts.