LOVE HURTS

Something about this choice felt... off?

I mean... I couldn't remember a case where increasing love was one of the choices. And it felt, I don't know...

Off-brand?

Why would this particular one...

Maybe it had something to do with how fucked up it would be if someone fell more in love with you the more you tortured them?

Maybe the developers of this app were just sick bastards, and enjoyed making the subjects critically conflicted like that? Loving the person who is hurting them?

What am I saying? Obviously they were sick bastards. That much was clear already.

But choosing that option would mean... I was one too.

What am I saying? Obviously I was. It was beyond clear by now.

But this felt, I don't know, a little different kind of fucked up, like-

TAP TAP!

Oh right.

Michelle was already tapping on my car window.

I can't think about this too much longer.

Tactics-wise, it was kinda the same choice. I'd make her easier to deal with, either by lust or... love.

...

Fuck it. The love thing was something new. Maybe a little different from my usual playbook, but...

It might even be... fun.

I chose B, and got out of the car.

"What's going on, Jack? Why didn't you answer any of my messages?", she asked with her shrill voice, wasting no time to get on my case.

She was looking like her usual self, all pompous, done up to a T, wearing her fur coat and other expensive accessories like she owned the world. Never letting me forget how she absolutely destroyed me in the divorce settlement.

"I'm here now, aren't I?" I answered her smugly, and pocketed my phone.

Soon we were going up the stairs to my apartment.

I hadn't actually been here since Wednesday morning. I spent the two previous nights at Gretchen's and... Janice's place.

Not that Michelle needed to know that. Not yet, anyways. And I was 100 percent sure Janice would never tell her either.

"Jack, s-stop," she said, all of a sudden.

I did, and turned around to see a hesitant, conflicted expression on her face. She was really twisting her body, trying to find the words to tell me something.

"We need to... To make some ground rules here, okay?"

"Okay..."

"Look, I know I agreed to be some... type of... well whatever your idea of a perfect 'housewife' is. But you know th-that I agreed to this when I was in a very, very emotional space... And my body was... Well you know it was reacting very wildly to... Oh fuck it, we both know, what happened that day... I came like I fucking faucet. Several times. It was insane."

I nodded.

Indeed it was. I had seriously overplayed things with them with that cum-fest. If I had a memory wiper back then, I would have definitely used it. The whole thing caused some serious headaches with Janice too.

And with Michelle... I still wasn't sure how in the world she could possibly reason with all that happening. In a way, it was a miracle she wasn't running away from me.

But... Once she crossed +50... I could selectively destroy her memories of things that happened this week. I could remove her memories of that day. It might be better if I did... but that might lead to new complications, like she would forget the reason why she agreed to be my housewife for the weekend, get freaked out, and run away.

No, I had to accept it. That awful mess happened, and there was nothing I could do about it now. I just had to make the best of it.

"And... And... If you really forgive me for cheating on you, m-maybe it will fix what's wrong with me, and my body... But... I've been thinking it over and... Doing this is pointless... if-if I cheat on Maddy as well. So..."

"Does she know you're here?" I interjected.

She clamped up, and looked down. She was clearly ashamed.

Yeah, I thought so. She probably told her she was going to go see family or something. That's why she had to come here so early... She probably told her that the "bus" or whatever would leave at a certain time, so she had **** but to leave at that point...

But, seemingly sidestepping my question, she got some of her confidence back. She boldly lifted her head, and looked me straight in the eye.

"Here are the ground rules. No sex. Of any type. No kissing. No inappropriate touching. Just... None of that. We. Are. Over. I'll do this wife-roleplay only if you agree to that."

She looked quite determined.

Great.

"I had no plans of touching you, Michelle. Don't worry about that."

"Oh? Okay... Well, good."

She looked genuinely surprised by that.

Maybe with a hint of... disappointment?

Did I hurt her pride or something?

What, did she think she was so hot that no man could possibly keep their hands off her? Least of all me?

Okay, maybe she is... But when you're married to her, and she turns you down one month straight... You are kinda **** to develop a cooler head.

I opened my apartment door.

Yup, it was still a pigsty.

Fucking Lana and Anna all over the apartment was a messy business.

Even after two days of inactivity... The place still smelled like pussy.

I was quite proud of that.

Michelle didn't share my positive vibes about the odor. She pinched her nose, wafted her hand and looked around the dump-like wreckage with agonizing dread.

Oh yeah... Maybe the smell wasn't pussy after all... There were still several unused sushi-packages from my very special dinner-experience laying on the table... I guess I forgot to fridge them.

"Eughhh! My God! How can anyone live like this?!"

Eh, hurtful, but true. But then again, I was planning on moving. Very soon. This might be my last weekend here... Right now, that didn't matter. This place would fit my plans with Michelle very nicely.

Before I could even respond, her eyes caught something else.

The cage.

"What... What the fuck is this thing? Do you have a pet here or something?"

"Oh yeah. I did. I had fun taming her."

That made her give me a second glance.

"W-wait, what do you... do you mean by-"'

"Here, catch."

I picked out a very special outfit from my closet, something I had bought for just this occasion, and threw it at her. Her reflexes were good enough to catch it.

But once she unfolded what it was... she did almost drop it out of shock.

"You... You can't be serious..."

"Yes I am."

"Yeah, well... This is extremely sexist, in bad taste, and-"

I got closer to her.

"And you are going to wear it."

The sudden forcefulness of my tone stunned her for a moment.

She still wasn't used to the new, more confident version of myself.

"You- You can't-"

"Yes. I can."

She could see it now. I wasn't going to budge on this issue.

It was my way or the highway.

We both went silent.

She threw the outfit away, crossed her arms and glared at me with such vengeful arrogance, that a normal man might've faltered.

Bitch, I nearly died an hour ago.

I was fully committed to this path. Nothing she did could ever make me squirm again.

I crossed my arms as well, and gave her an even meaner glare.

It took a while.... but after ten seconds, it was starting to have an effect.

Soon she was having trouble looking straight into my eyes, and eventually she was looking anywhere else except my face.

Eventually... she even eyed the outfit on the floor a few times.

Then, letting out an exasperated grunt, she picked up the thing, and angrily stomped towards the bathroom. (MICHELLE: +5SP) (+47SP)

Yeah, there we go... I wish I would have tried this sooner.

Maybe it would have made our marriage more bearable.

She spent a long time in there.

I had time to lift my legs on the coffee table, turn on the TV and watch some mindless soap opera while waiting for her to return.

A part of me wanted to rush her... But maybe it was better to give her time to adjust.

Because she would need to adjust. A lot.

Eventually... The bathroom door did open up.

And I saw my ex-wife the way she was always supposed to be.

Oh yeah...

I knew that there was a good, wholesome, obedient wifey locked somewhere beneath that manipulative bitch.

"Are you happy now, you pig?" she asked, trying to act tough, but her cheeks were glowing red with embarrassment.

As red as that cute little heart on her dress.

But I definitely was happy.

That outfit fit her perfectly. It was everything she was not, so to **** her to wear that... Felt good.

I hadn't even ordered her to do up her hair like that.

I wonder why she did.

Maybe it felt good to do that.

Really good. Like pussytinglingly good.

Because, according to her newest trait... The one that made her lusty over doing traditional housewife stuff...

Her loins might already be hot... just from that makeover.

Maybe that's why she was so red already.

In fact, doing that kind of traditional housewife stuff all weekend was going make her insanely wet, and more than burning and aching up for some hot, nasty action...

Not that I cared.

Like I promised... I wouldn't touch her.