He'll 'fix' it alright

Seth's fingers brushed the remote in his pocket again, the weight of it pulling at him like an unspoken dare as Iva turned her back, shuffling toward the kitchen with that perpetual scowl etched deep into her features. Her name—Iva—sparked something random in his brain, visions of fierce Viking warriors from those historical shows he'd binged, all axes and braids and unyielding strength.

Without fully thinking it through, he yanked the device out, pointed it at her retreating form, and clicked, his mind half-formed: Make her like one of those Viking beauties—tall, powerful, gorgeous.

Iva's body began its ascent with a low, resonant crack of bones extending, her spine pulling her upward inch by inch until she loomed at an imposing seven feet, the top of her head brushing close to the whirring ceiling fan blades that now hummed too near for comfort. She straightened instinctively, chest thrusting forward as her shoulders squared back, transforming her once-slumped outline into a towering pillar of presence that filled the room, her shadow stretching long across the floor under the warm kitchen lights. Pale skin flushed with new vitality, every pore closing tight to create a seamless expanse that invited fingers to trace its velvet surface—supple under pressure, springing back with a firmness that hinted at the power coiling beneath, glowing faintly as if lit from within.

Muscles knit together next, weaving strength into her frame without adding unnecessary mass; her abdomen hardened into sharp ridges that pressed against the shifting fabric of her top, each defined line rising and falling with her quickened breaths, drawing the eye to the way they contracted subtly, like waves rippling across a calm sea. Arms reshaped themselves into elegant weapons of grace and might—biceps swelling into pronounced curves that tensed when she clenched her fists, forearms laced with fine veins that pulsed just under the surface, ready for action yet sleek enough to slide a hand along without resistance. Down below, thighs bulked with purpose, layers of dense muscle stacking into thick, powerful columns that strained against her pants—each step forward showcasing their girth, flexing with a hypnotic rhythm that promised to crush or cradle, depending on her whim, while calves tapered into firm swells that propelled her with effortless stride.

From her chest came the most captivating surge, breasts ballooning outward in heavy, insistent swells that reshaped her silhouette entirely—their fullness heaving upward, round and buoyant, pressing insistently against the blouse that twisted and reformed around them, fabric giving way to a tailored jacket that dipped low, exposing the deep valley between those jiggling orbs, skin there so smooth it caught the light in soft highlights, nipples stiffening visibly as they brushed the inner lining. Hips swayed wider in response, curving out into generous flares that balanced her top-heavy form, leading the gaze downward to where her ass cheeks rounded and lifted, plumping into lush, squeezable globes that bounced with the slightest hip shift, the kind that begged for a firm grip. Sheer black pantyhose climbed her legs like a second skin, clinging to every contour from slender ankles up through those mighty thighs, while form-fitting leggings layered beneath hugged the swell of her hips and ass, the material stretching taut to outline the deep cleft between her cheeks. Black high heels materialized last, spiking her height even further with sharp clicks against the tile, elongating her legs into endless lines that ended in pointed toes, making each movement a seductive prowl.

Hair erupted from her scalp in a cascade of platinum blonde waves, thickening rapidly as strands wove themselves into elaborate braids that tumbled down her back like ropes of spun gold, swinging heavy and free, brushing against the small of her back with every turn of her head. The face above it all sharpened into striking beauty—cheekbones carving high and proud, slicing shadows across her features, a jawline firm and resolute tapering to a point that demanded attention, while bright blue eyes ignited with a piercing clarity, pupils dilating slightly as they fixed on him, framed by thick lashes that fluttered slow and deliberate. Red lips bloomed full and inviting, the lower one plumper than the upper, parting just enough to reveal a glimpse of white teeth, their softness evident in the way they curved into a knowing smile, glossy from a quick pass of her tongue.

Iva paused mid-stride, her towering frame turning fully toward him with a slow, deliberate pivot that made her braided platinum locks swing heavily across her back, brushing the curve of her ass as she faced him head-on. Those bright blue eyes raked over Seth from head to toe, lingering on his lips before flicking back up, a sly, protective smile spreading across her red ones—strong and inviting, parting just enough to show the tip of her tongue tracing the lower edge. She stepped closer, her high heels clicking sharply on the tile, closing the gap until her enormous breasts nearly grazed his chest, their heavy swell rising and falling with her breaths, the suit jacket's low cut revealing the soft bounce of cleavage that strained against the fabric.

"Evelyn's not back for another hour—she's wrapping up at the clinic," Iva explained, her voice dropping to a deep, husky rumble laced with cunning tease, one toned arm reaching out to trail a finger along his collarbone, nail grazing lightly over his skin. "Plenty of time for you to get comfortable here... or for me to make sure you're very, very relaxed before she gets home." She leaned in even nearer, her plump ass shifting as she arched her back slightly, pressing her thigh against his leg—the pantyhose smooth and warm through the leggings, her thick muscles flexing under his gaze. "Just say the word, handsome. I'd love to lend a hand—or more—if it means keeping you satisfied while we wait."