The New Me (video with audio) (Patreon)

I grew to 20ft while he was away. Now, with huge muscles and all the power, I’m the queen—and he’s mine to command. Read my story.

I stretch my arms above my head, feeling the ceiling scrape against my knuckles. Twenty feet tall now—maybe a little more, it’s hard to measure when you’re this big—and every inch of me pulses with power. My muscles ripple under my skin, thick and defined, like something carved from marble but alive, warm, and unstoppable. I catch my reflection in the oversized mirror I had installed last week, a custom job that cost a fortune. My biceps flex as I tilt my head, my thighs like tree trunks, my shoulders broad enough to carry the world. I’m a goddess now, and I know it.

It started three months ago, just after Jake left for his business trip. Some biotech company overseas, a six-month gig he couldn’t turn down. I was normal then—five-foot-six, average build, the kind of girl who could blend into a crowd. But something happened. Maybe it was the weird protein shake I tried from that shady gym, or the experimental yoga class I stumbled into, or maybe I was just destined for this. Whatever it was, I grew. Slowly at first—an inch here, a pound of muscle there—then faster, until the world started shrinking around me. My clothes shredded, my apartment became a dollhouse, and I had to move into an old warehouse just to have space to breathe.

Jake’s coming back today. He doesn’t know. I didn’t tell him. What would I even say? “Hey, babe, I’m a giantess now, and I could bench-press your car without breaking a sweat”? No, I wanted him to see it. To feel it. Because things are going to be different now. I’m not the quiet little girlfriend who waited patiently anymore. I’m in charge.

The warehouse door creaks open, and there he is—Jake, all six feet of him, suitcase in hand, looking tiny and fragile against the cavernous space I call home now. His jaw drops as he takes me in, sprawled across a custom-built couch that’s still too small for me. I’m wearing a makeshift outfit—yards of fabric stitched together into a tight top and shorts that hug my massive thighs. His eyes widen, tracing the curve of my calves, the swell of my arms, the sheer impossibility of me.

“Jess?” he squeaks, his voice breaking like a teenager’s. I grin, slow and deliberate, letting the power settle into my bones.

“Hey, babe,” I purr, my voice deeper now, resonating through the space. I stand up, towering over him, my shadow swallowing him whole. He cranes his neck to look up at me, and I can see the mix of awe and fear in his eyes. Good. He should be a little afraid. “Miss me?”

“W-what happened to you?” he stammers, dropping his suitcase. It hits the concrete with a pathetic little thud.

I take a step closer, my bare foot shaking the floor. “I grew,” I say simply, flexing my arm so he can see the muscle bulge, veins popping against my skin. “And I got strong. Really strong.” I lean down, my face hovering just above his, my breath ruffling his hair. “You’ve been gone a long time, Jake. Things change.”

He swallows hard, and I can practically hear his heart racing. “You’re… huge,” he manages, his hands twitching like he wants to touch me but doesn’t dare.

I laugh, a low, rumbling sound that makes his knees wobble. “Yeah, I am. And you know what? I like it.” I straighten up, crossing my arms over my chest, my biceps straining against the fabric. “I’ve been thinking while you were away. About us. About what I want now.”

He blinks up at me, still processing. “What you want?”

“Mm-hmm.” I step around him, circling him like a predator sizing up its prey. My hips sway, my muscles flexing with every move. “See, when you left, I was just Jess. Sweet little Jess who cooked dinner and waited up for you. But now?” I stop in front of him, planting my hands on my hips, my shadow drowning him again. “Now I’m more. And I don’t wait for anyone anymore.”

He’s trembling now, but there’s something else in his eyes—curiosity, maybe even desire. I can feel it, the shift in the air. He’s always liked me confident, but this? This is a whole new level.

“Jess, I—” he starts, but I cut him off, bending down to scoop him up in one hand. He gasps as I lift him effortlessly, his body light as a feather against my palm. I hold him at eye level, his legs dangling, his hands gripping my fingers for dear life.

“Shh,” I whisper, my lips curling into a smirk. “You don’t talk unless I say so. That’s how this works now.” I set him down on a table I had built—sturdy enough to hold my weight if I wanted to sit there myself. He’s eye-level with my chest now, and I catch him staring, his cheeks flushing red. I flex my pecs, just to tease him, and he nearly falls off the edge.

“I could have anyone,” I say, leaning in close, my voice a velvet growl. “Anyone I want. Guys at the gym practically beg to spot me, just to get close. Women too. They all look at me like I’m some kind of goddess—and they’re right.” I tilt my head, letting my hair cascade over one shoulder, a curtain of silk he used to love running his fingers through. “But you? You’re still here. So maybe I’ll keep you around. If you’re good.”

He’s breathing hard now, his hands braced against the table. “Jess, I don’t know what to say. This is… a lot.”

I chuckle, reaching out to tip his chin up with one finger, gentle but firm. “You don’t have to say anything. You just have to listen. And maybe, if you’re lucky, I’ll let you touch me.” I step back, stretching my arms wide, showing off every curve, every hard-earned muscle. “But it’s my rules now, Jake. My game. You’re in my world.”

He nods, slow and dazed, like he’s hypnotized. And maybe he is. I’ve seen the way people look at me now—men, women, doesn’t matter. They’re drawn to me, to my size, my strength, my presence. I could snap my fingers and have a dozen suitors at my feet, worshipping me. But Jake’s familiar. He’s mine, in a way no one else can be. At least for now.

I sit back on my couch, the frame groaning under my weight, and pat the cushion next to me. “Come here,” I say, my tone leaving no room for argument. He scrambles off the table, practically tripping over himself to obey. He sits beside me, his body so small against mine, and I drape an arm around him, pulling him close. My bicep presses against his back, a wall of muscle he can’t escape.

“Things are different now,” I murmur, my lips brushing his ear. “I’m not your little girlfriend anymore. I’m your queen. And you’re going to love every second of it.”

He shivers against me, and I smile. Oh yes, things are definitely going to be different. I’ve got all the power now—and I’m going to enjoy every towering, muscle-bound moment of it.