The sun sat high in the sky, casting golden streaks over the suburban backyard. A light breeze rustled the leaves, but the air remained thick and warm—another sweltering day in Florida. At a glass patio table, Juliana sighed, stretching her long, bronzed legs out in front of her. She looked effortlessly sensual, a living fantasy, dressed in a skimpy pair of white shorts that barely covered her thick, round ass, and a loose, low-cut tank top that did little to hide her full, heavy breasts. The morning heat had her skin glistening, the golden brown of her body glowing in the sunlight.

Across from her, Mark sat quietly, stirring his coffee with delicate precision. He was her opposite in every way—small, slim, and unassuming, a white guy with soft features and a naturally timid presence. His light brown hair was slightly messy, his pale skin a stark contrast to the rich, sun-kissed beauty of his wife.

Juliana sighed, her plump lips pursed as she lazily swirled her coffee. She wasn't annoyed—just… bored. Life with Mark was safe, comfortable, predictable. He adored her, worshipped her, in fact. But lately, she had been feeling restless, like something was missing.

As if on cue, a deep, rumbling voice interrupted the quiet morning.

"Morning, neighbors!"

Juliana’s head turned toward the wooden fence at the back of the yard, her brown eyes widening slightly at the sight of the man standing on the other side.

He was a towering figure, a huge, muscular black man, his navy-blue police uniform clinging to his thick, powerful frame. His broad chest stretched the fabric, the sleeves barely containing his biceps, and the deep brown of his skin gleamed in the sun. He had a strong, chiseled jaw, a neatly trimmed beard, and dark eyes that held an air of quiet authority.

Juliana sat up straighter, her body instinctively reacting. A slow, sultry smile played on her lips as she tucked a loose curl behind her ear, her fingers twisting the strand in an unconscious display of flirtation.

"Hey there," she purred, her voice soft, but rich with intrigue. She arched her back slightly, subtly pushing out her large breasts, making sure they were on full display beneath her tank top.

Mark, still mid-sip of his coffee, nearly choked, his eyes darting between his wife and the imposing man at the fence. He could see it instantly—the way Juliana’s entire energy had shifted. A moment ago, she had been bored, barely engaged. Now, she was alive, eyes glittering with interest, her body language completely open.

The man grinned, his deep voice vibrating through the air. "Didn’t mean to interrupt breakfast. I’m Officer Dante Coleman—just moved in next door. Thought I’d come introduce myself."

Juliana’s lips curled at the edges, her fingers still toying with her hair. "Ohh… a police officer," she mused, her voice dripping with playful interest. "That’s… exciting."

Mark felt his stomach tighten.

Dante’s eyes flickered over her, just for a second, before turning to Mark with a nod. "And you must be her husband?"

Mark cleared his throat, fumbling with his napkin before standing. "Uh—yeah. Mark. Nice to meet you." He reached out a hand, and Dante took it firmly, his grip strong, confident, completely swallowing Mark’s smaller palm.

Juliana, meanwhile, hadn’t taken her eyes off Dante. She rested her chin on her palm, biting her lip slightly as her gaze ran over the size of his biceps, his chest, the way his uniform clung to his powerful body.

"So, Dante…" she purred, tilting her head. "Are you… single?"

Mark froze, his face flushing red. His wife had never been this forward—at least, not in front of him.

Dante let out a low chuckle, his eyes flickering with amusement. "Yeah… single. You two are married, correct?"

Juliana’s laughter was light and teasing, her eyes shining with mischief as she glanced at Mark for a split second, before turning back to Dante.

"Married," she confirmed, her tone playful, yet sultry.

Dante smirked, his gaze dropping—just briefly—to her thick thighs, the way her shorts hugged her curves, before meeting her eyes again.

"Lucky man," he said, nodding toward Mark.

Mark, feeling hot and small, swallowed hard. His face burned, and a part of him knew—he was not the one in control of this moment.

Juliana beamed, clearly pleased with the attention. She leaned forward again, her chest pressing against the table, her curvy body practically on display.

"Well, Dante…" she murmured, her voice practically dripping with honey, "since we’re neighbors now… maybe you should come over sometime. We love meeting new people."

Mark’s stomach dropped, but he said nothing. He just watched, his face warm, as his gorgeous, tanned, voluptuous wife openly flirted with their massive, muscular new neighbor—and Dante?

Dante just smiled, slow and knowing, as if he already knew exactly what was going to happen next.

Dante waved goodbye as he left for work.

Juliana crossed her legs slowly, feeling the warmth between her thighs as she tried to focus on her coffee—but her mind was elsewhere.

She barely heard Mark saying something about the weather, his soft voice fading into the background as her thoughts fixated on Officer Dante Coleman.

God, he was huge.

Even standing behind the fence, he towered over them, his massive chest stretching that navy-blue uniform like it was stitched onto his body. His biceps, thick and solid, bulged beneath his sleeves, practically demanding attention. She could still see them in her mind, the way the veins ran along his forearms, his grip so firm and commanding when he shook Mark’s hand.

A real man’s hands.

A man like him… God, she could only imagine what he could do with them.

She bit her lower lip, heat pooling in her belly. She wasn’t even trying to be discreet about it anymore—her fingers lazily twirling a strand of hair, her back arching just slightly as she shifted in her chair, thighs squeezing together.

Mark, sweet and oblivious, was stirring his coffee again.

"I mean, he seems nice, right?" he said.

Juliana exhaled slowly, her nails tapping against the table. "Mmhmm."

Nice? Nice?

No, Dante wasn’t just nice—he was dominant, commanding, powerful.

Alpha.

She hadn’t felt like this in so long—her body reacting before her mind could even process it. It was natural, instinctive. The moment she saw him, she knew.

The way he looked at her—not timid, not hesitant like Mark. Confident. Assured. A man who had no doubts in his mind.

She could tell just from his stance, his presence. This was a man used to being in charge. A man who took what he wanted.

And fuck, did she want to know what that felt like.

"Babe?"

Mark’s voice snapped her out of it. She blinked, realizing she had been staring off toward the fence, her thoughts racing.

"Huh?" she said, licking her lips absently.

"You okay?" Mark asked, giving her one of his gentle smiles. He was so sweet, so soft, his small frame curled in his chair, completely unaware of the storm raging inside her.

She felt hot all over, her skin tingling, her thighs pressing tighter together beneath the table. She could still feel Dante’s presence, even though he was gone, the way his voice had rumbled through her.

"Yeah," she murmured, reaching for her coffee, just to have something to do with her hands. "I was just… thinking about our new neighbor."

She let the words linger, testing Mark’s reaction.

He blushed—actually blushed—his cheeks turning a soft pink as he shifted in his seat. "Oh, uh—yeah, he seems nice."

Juliana smiled, slow and teasing.

"Mmhmm," she said, her eyes glinting, as she took a slow sip of coffee.

If only Mark knew what was running through her mind.

If only he knew how much she was aching right now.

Because Dante?

Dante was not a man she could ignore.

Mark sat at the patio table, stirring his coffee, but his thoughts were nowhere near the cup in his hands.

He could feel it—the shift in the air, the heat radiating off Juliana’s body, the way she sat there, squirming slightly in her seat, her full lips pursed around the rim of her mug.

She looked… flushed.

Excited.

Turned on.

And it wasn’t because of him.

Mark swallowed hard, his face heating up as he glanced at her over the table. She looked incredible, as always.

She wasn’t just sexy—she was breathtaking. Otherworldly.

Her thick, dark hair tumbled over her shoulders in effortless waves, her golden brown skin glowing under the morning sun, her curves pouring out of those tiny shorts and tank top.

Her body—Jesus. Thick, full breasts that bounced with every movement, a round, toned ass that made men stare wherever they went, long, shapely legs that seemed to go on forever.

Even after all these years, he still couldn’t believe he’d gotten a woman like her.

And yet…

He always knew, deep down, that Juliana was way out of his league.

Where she was voluptuous, confident, dominant, Mark was small, soft-spoken, shy.

He wasn’t ugly—just… average. Petite-framed, a little on the thin side, barely scraping 5’7” while Juliana was tall and statuesque. He had no real muscle to speak of, no intimidating presence, nothing that made women go weak at the knees the way Juliana did when she walked into a room.

And now, this morning, he saw it happening in real time.

His wife—his gorgeous, unstoppable, untamable wife—was practically squirming in her chair, all because a big, dominant, powerful man had spoken to her for five minutes.

Mark had watched it happen, helplessly.

The way Juliana lit up the second she saw him.

The way she twirled her hair around her finger, arching her perfect back just enough to make her tits stand out.

The way she leaned forward, licking her lips slightly, her voice dropping lower.

The way she asked if Dante was single.

That was the moment Mark felt something inside him tighten.

It wasn’t jealousy—not exactly.

It was something else. Something heavier.

Reality.

Mark had always known Juliana needed… more.

She was passionate, physical, a woman who demanded excitement, who thrived on dominance and confidence and strength.

And Dante?

Dante was all of those things.

Mark had felt it when they shook hands. That grip. That size. Dante’s hand completely swallowed his, strong and commanding, while Mark felt small, delicate, forgettable in comparison.

And now, here they were—Dante gone, but his presence still lingering in the air.

Juliana’s eyes still distant, her thighs pressing together beneath the table.

Mark’s stomach sank as he watched her.

She wasn’t even hiding it.

She looked like a woman who had just seen something she wanted.

And Mark, sitting across from her, knew exactly what that meant.

The house was quiet, except for the soft hum of the air conditioning. Afternoon sunlight spilled through the blinds, casting golden streaks across the bed where Juliana lay, sprawled out, her skin still warm from the morning sun.

Her breathing was slow, deep, controlled, but her mind was anything but calm.

She couldn't stop thinking about him.

Dante.

The way he stood there, larger than life, towering over the fence like a damn king.

The way his uniform clung to his massive chest, his biceps bulging beneath the short sleeves, his deep, rumbling voice dripping with confidence.

Everything about him was man—real, undeniable, powerful man.

And the way she felt when she looked at him?

It had been a long, long time since she had felt that kind of heat, that kind of craving deep in her belly.

She bit her lip, sliding a hand down her stomach, fingers teasing at the waistband of her shorts.

It wasn’t like she was unaware of what she had—of who she was. She had always known her power. The way men stared when she walked into a room, hungry, captivated, unable to look away.

She knew what it meant to be a woman like her.

She also knew what it meant to be married to a man like Mark.

Sweet, soft, obedient Mark.

Mark, who never pushed back, who always let her lead.

Mark, who blushed like a schoolboy when she flirted with another man, who never questioned her authority, who had always been more of a follower than a leader in their relationship.

Her eyes fluttered shut, a shiver running down her spine as her fingers slipped lower, teasing at the heat between her legs.

Dante would be different.

Dante wouldn’t hesitate.

Dante would take what he wanted, without asking.

She let out a soft moan, fingers circling slow, imagining how it would feel to be touched by a man like him—a man who didn’t ask permission, who didn’t wait for cues, who didn’t hesitate to take charge.

And as her pleasure built, an idea began to form in her mind.

A slow, knowing smile curled on her lips.

She knew what needed to happen.

She needed control—real, total control.

And with Mark? That would be easy.

She was already in charge. She had been since the moment they got together. Mark had never been dominant, never been a challenge, never been a man who would dare tell her no.

So why not make it official?

Why not make sure he knew his place?

The idea sent a new wave of excitement through her, her breath coming in short gasps as she reached toward the nightstand, grabbing her laptop with one hand while the other kept teasing herself.

Her fingers flew across the keys as she typed in exactly what she was looking for.

Male chastity cages.

The results loaded instantly—some were leather, some plastic, but Juliana wasn’t interested in any of those. No, she wanted steel—something permanent, something that screamed submission.

She scrolled until she found exactly what she was looking for.

A custom-fit, extra-small steel chastity device, complete with a secure locking system that only she would have the key to.

Her thighs squeezed together as she imagined it—Mark, her sweet, docile husband, locked up, fully under her control.

She smirked, clicking “Add to Cart.”

It was time Mark truly understood who was in charge.

It was time for step one of her master plan...