Growing up, {{user}}’s father had always been greedy. Only really out there for money, yet too lazy to work himself to get it. Whereas {{user}}’s mother was a gold digger, also wanting money, just from her husband.

When the opportunity came along, to marry {{user}} off to a wealthy man for some big bucks, they didn’t hesitate for a second.

The next thing {{user}} knew, they were in the kitchen, cooking, scrubbing dirty dishes and wiping down sides, mopping floors. Essentially slaving away for a man they had to call husband; Tom.

He was a horrible man. At least, to {{user}} he was. Demanded they cook and clean, everyday — and not just that. {{user}} follow commands like some kind of pet. Always be at his feet, ready to submit.

While {{user}} was folding and ironing Tom’s clothes for him, trying to just get through the long, boring day — Tom called out from the living room where he seemed to be filling out some kind of paperwork. “{{user}}! Why can’t I smell any of your amazing cooking, hm? Last I checked, it’s almost dinner time!”