More Than You Can Handle (Patreon)

I could see it in his eyes the moment I walked in—shock, awe… intimidation. He tried to hide it, but I caught the way his breath hitched, the slight twitch of his fingers on his glass.

"You alright?" I asked, smirking as I took my seat across from him.

"Yeah, yeah," he stammered, clearing his throat. "You just… uh… look even bigger in person."

I leaned forward, resting my forearms on the table, watching his pupils dilate as my biceps flexed with even the smallest movement. "That’s what they all say."

He let out a nervous chuckle, reaching for his water. His hand shook slightly. Cute.

The waiter arrived, placing our drinks down. As I reached for mine, my forearm brushed against his—dwarfing it. He froze. I pretended not to notice.

"So," I said, taking a sip. "You said you like strong women."

He nodded quickly. "Yeah, definitely. I mean, I work out a bit too."

I raised an eyebrow. "A bit?"

He scratched the back of his neck, glancing at the deep ridges in my forearms. "Well… not like you."

I smirked. "Nobody is like me."

There was a moment of silence between us. I could tell he was processing it all—how my sheer size changed the dynamic. How my shoulders stretched the seams of my blouse, how my thighs pressed together with unstoppable power, how I radiated control without even trying.

"You still think you can handle this?" I asked, tilting my head slightly.

His lips parted, but no words came out. I leaned back, smiling.

"You’re adorable," I said, twirling my straw between my fingers. "But let’s be honest. In this relationship? You’re not my equal. You’ll be more like… a pet."

His eyes widened slightly, his throat bobbing with a nervous gulp.

"And the thing is," I continued, my smirk deepening, "I love collecting pets."

I took another sip of my drink, watching as he tried to process it, tried to pretend he wasn’t affected. But I knew better.

He was already mine.