I pulled into the driveway just as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky blood-orange. I hadn’t been home much lately—didn’t feel the need. Things between my wife Valeria and me had been… tense, ever since she started going to the gym. What began as simple workouts had turned into something else entirely. She was no longer the quiet, submissive wife I once knew.

She was massive now.

Her frame had transformed into something terrifyingly powerful—shoulders broader than my own, arms swollen with muscle and veins, thighs like tree trunks. The way she looked at me lately—it was like I was the small one now.

As I parked, I noticed an unfamiliar car next to hers. Sleek, black, aggressive-looking. I frowned.

Inside, the living room was dimly lit. And there they were—Valeria, in a tight crimson dress stretched across her hulking frame, and another woman with golden-blonde hair in a backless black dress that clung to her powerful body like a second skin. She had muscles but not big as Valeria’s. They were kissing. Deeply. Passionately.

I froze. My throat dried up.

Valeria slowly pulled away from the kiss and turned to face me. Her brown eyes locked onto mine. Cold. Calculated.

“Well, look who finally came home,” she said, her voice deeper, stronger—like steel wrapped in velvet.

She stepped forward. Her friend stood behind her, arms crossed, watching with a predatory smirk.

Valeria cracked her knuckles, her massive biceps bulging as she walked toward me.

“You remember all those years you tried to control me?” she growled, towering over me now.

“This time,” she whispered, grabbing me by the shirt, “I’m in control. I'm gonna enjoy abuse you.”