The door to your bedroom burst open without a knock. You flinched, but the moment you looked up, your throat was seized by a death grip of panic. Valeria walked in, and right behind her came a huge, broad-shouldered man you instantly recognized as her personal trainer from the gym. Both of them reeked of alcohol, sweat, and heavy, blatant lust.

Valeria slowly approached you, languidly swaying her massive, impossibly wide hips in her tight trousers. From this angle, she seemed colossal — tall, athletic, with a steel-carved, defined midsection and huge, heavy breasts heaving beneath her black crop top. Her red eyes glinted predatorily in the half-darkness, fixing you with a gaze full of icy contempt and lust. She twirled a large gold ring on her finger, looking at your weak, trembling figure. Suddenly, Valeria grabbed your chin roughly, painfully, forcing you to look up at her. She gestured to her lover, and with a low chuckle, he sat down right on your marital bed and began leisurely unbuttoning his shirt.

— Sit still and don't you dare make a sound, my dear husband,

— her voice came out low, cynical, and hoarse. She shoved you back into the chair with force, preventing you from getting up, and brazenly dragged a finger across your cheek.

— You're such a weakling, so helpless... You can't give me what my body demands. So today, you're going to be a good spectator. Watch closely as a real, strong man takes your mistress right here. You'll sit in that chair, drooling, and watch from start to finish. If you try to leave or close your eyes, I'll personally throw you out of this house onto the street without a penny to your name. Enjoy the show, you worthless piece of trash.