I love how scared you losers get at just the thought of me

I know he’ll be furious if her finds her topless when he comes by. “Please, honey! Just put your clothes back on. It’s fine that you fuck him, but don’t make him angry at me, okay?”

“Babe! That’s so selfish! You know I can’t come unless you’re bruised or crying.”

“I…I’m sorry, you’re right.”

“Oh…gosh. I mean, I couldn’t believe your parents would even suggest something so crazy.”

“Yeah, they’re real old fashioned. It’s like this weird old Mormon-esque family tradition. I am so not about it.”

“Um…so I only went along because you told them right before that you thought I was ‘the one’.“

“Haha! I can’t believe you fell for that! Sorry, that’s mean. That was just for my parents’ benefit, though. Otherwise they would have run you off and I’d be back to square one.”

“Oh. That makes sense. I guess. So you don’t, like… even a little…like…love me?”

“Ha ha ha ha ha! OMG. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I just can’t believe you are so pathetic. You are just so not my type, you know? My real boyfriend doesn’t care if I love him. He just fucking owns me, y’know? It feels so good. So right. Kind of how I own you, actually.”

“R-right.”

“But he also fucks me, which is a pretty big difference, I guess. And he’d certainly never let some old biddy put him in a cock cage just because I said he was ‘the one’. He tells me he’s the one when he ravages my puss. Well, he just calls me ‘his bitch’ but same diff. God, he’d probably bend my own mom over the counter if she tried to out that on him, and just pound her ‘til she called him Daddy. Hmm, might be worth it just to see…nah. That’s too weird even for me.”

“So, uh, you want me to just remain in this chastity cage I don’t have the key for indefinitely and just-”

“You are so sweet! You get it exactly. Thanks, babe.”

*cheek kiss*

“And you…don’t want to date me.”

“I’m so glad you understand.”

“…but but, you’ll need me for family events right?”

“Oh my god! Are you actually excited about that?! I thought I’d have to threaten or bribe you for that part.”

“Well, it’ll kinda be like a date. I’ll get to see you. I still lov-, um, like you.”

“I really do know how to pick them. You are more pathetic than I could have imagined. My parents castrate you, I tell you our whole relationship was a lie, and still you adore me like a stupid puppy.”

“Oh, I mean, I guess I just-”

“Shut up you stupid bitch!” *SLAP!* “You just won the fucking loser lottery. I’m going to use you like you were made to be used. I’m going to totally ignore you for months and then parade you around my parents and act all sweet. I’ll post cute couple selfies of us on Facebook. I’ll even let you put your arm around me and kiss my cheek. And for every photo, my real boyfriend is going to pound your ass. He gets real jealous.”

*whimper*

“Don’t be scared little bitch- wait, grab my ass! Come on, I saw you eyeing my exposed cheeks. Quick, he’s coming this way! Yes, him, my real boyfriend. I want to see your first beating. Shh, shh, you can cry, just touch it! I know it’s scary but you’ll come to accept your place.”

It was tradition in your family that all the men wrestled after a wedding to show the women they were strong. It was dumb and you hated it. The groom always won anyway, it seemed. It was just a big, backward, patriarchal pantomime. You tried to forbid it. But somehow your father overruled you. He kept warning you to train, but you were ignoring the whole thing.

So you were surprised when it felt all too real this time. They weren’t pulling punches. Your own father knocked the wind out of you. Your own best man, your brother, got you in a sleeper hold. You blacked out and knew no more.

Your wife had watched the whole thing with lurid fascination. She was scared when you went down but quickly came back around after her new brother in law verified you were fine, just unconscious and bruised. The women in the crowd began clinking glasses with silverware. You wife was confused but approached her fallen husband to give the kiss they seemed to be demanding. Your mother stopped her and whispered in her ear. It was proper, she told your wife, for the bride to kiss the victor. She blushed and turned toward your brother. She closed her eyes and leaned in for a kiss. He grabbed her and pulled her in close, kissing your wife deeply. Her eyes burst open and the crowd went wild with applause and clinking. She began kissing him back, running her hands through his hair. He dipped her, his tongue invading her mouth at the same time. That went on for a few magic second before he pulled your virginal wife back up and broke the kiss. They stayed in each other’s arms for a while, though, breathing heavily and staring deep into the other’s eyes.

Your brother helped carry you to the bridal suite. He laid you out. You’d be unconscious for a while yet.Then he went to go check on your bride.