Arranged To Marry The Enemy

"It's time for us to seal our marriage," Roman announced as he entered the room, a serious expression on his face. I, feeling apprehensive, stood up from the couch where I had been sitting. "I'm not interested," I replied, my voice tinged with fear. "I can only give myself to the man I love." He approached me, clearly puzzled. "Why wouldn't you be interested? We're legally bound now. I need to be intimate with my wife." He gestured towards the beautifully decorated room, its purpose now evident. "This space holds significance beyond aesthetics. Understand that, my wife." "Please, let's have a night of marital unity," he said, moving closer to the bed and clapping his hands. The door opened, and men brought in boxes, placing them on the floor before leaving. I watched, curious about their arrival. Roman turned to me, his tone suddenly changing. "Irina, have you ever heard of BDSM?" I shook my head, surprised by the sudden topic. "No, what does it entail?" He pulled out items from the boxes, answering my question with a mix of explanation and irritation. "It involves different forms of dominance and submission, control, and exploration of one's desires. But let's put that aside for now." "Why do you have ropes and wipes?" I asked, still unsure. "And have you ever experienced it?" he asked, his anger growing. There was a brief pause as I felt a mix of shyness and confusion. "No," I answered hesitantly. "You were locked away by your foolish father all your life. That's an injustice. Here, women are respected differently. He should have let you experience the world," he declared, clearly frustrated. "Please, stop asking questions. Your innocence is grating on my nerves. I dislike naivety," he scoffed, dismissing my queries. "Get onto the bed," he commanded sternly. "What?" I asked, taken aback. "Just get on the bed, I don't want to have to assist you," he insisted, his tone firm.