Sometimes choices were hard, other times not so much. In the case of Tammy and Tawny, it was easy.
“Of course I’ll take both of them, wouldn’t want to break up sisters now would I?” I said to the government agent responsible for he two of them.
“Of course Sir, very noble of you.” he replied and I just nodded before turning back to the two girls… no women I corrected myself mentally, that were holding hands and looking away from me.
They had just aged out of foster care and were no longer tax exempt and so their choices were very limited. Be sent off to one of the tax shelters most likely separately, try and find a job that could meet their tax burden, or find a man that would provide for them.
They had grown up together in the foster care system and depended on each other for everything I had been told and so did not want to be split up, even more so than just the desire to avoid the tax shelters.
As for a job, well, the foster care system wasn’t know for producing highly skilled workers, at least not female ones, and so they would have no luck there.
Which left few options, since there were few men willing to take in two foster women. At least not when they weren’t technically related.
“Ladies, why don’t you get dressed and we can discuss the details of your marriage contract.”
The girls quickly pulled up their skimpy dresses and turned back towards me, both blushing profusely as they did, “Yes Sir.” the both said in unison.
I smiled as the four of us sat down at the table, the government agent pulling out two reams of paper and pens and sliding one of each in front of each of them. They each started flipping through it slowly, reading the marriage contract details.
The Restoration of Marriage Act of 2020 was a beautiful thing. Not only did it redefine marriage to be between a man and his property, but that property could be one or more women. In this case, Tammy and Tawny would be my fifth and sixth wife, and the marriage contract spelled out exactly what their duties would be.
Everything from the bisexual nature of their relationships with each other and the other wives, to the physical standards that they would have to maintain, to the day to day duties that they would have in the household.
I smiled as they both struggled to read it, the language being more sophisticated then they were used to. Eventually they got all the way through it and took the pens in their hands. They hesitated for a moment and looked up at me.
“Just… just to make sure…” Tawny said, “We get to stay together right?”
I nodded, “Of course, section 4, part 3, paragraph 14. It ensures that the two of you are treated as a single piece of property… you cannot be sold separately.”
They turned to each other, nodded and then signed the marriage contracts. The government agent took them and then notarized them before placing them back in his folder. He then pulled out his tablet and registered the change of ownership and I watched both of the girls eyes widen and then a smile come across their faces as the chip received the new marriage contract and began implementing it’s requirements.
I stood up and smiled, “Come on ladies, let’s get you home. My other wives will be eager to meet you. Cindy has been looking forward being promoted from maid duty Tammy and if I’m honest Jill is a terrible cook so it will be a pleasant change Tawny.”
“Oh yes Sir, I will be happy to be your obedient and loyal maid.” Tammy said.
“It will be my pleasure to prepare your meals for you Sir.” Tawny replied.
Both stood up and followed me out the door, several steps behind of course. The foster care system had prepared them for exactly this scenario, their education focused on cooking, cleaning, and other domestic duties.
If it had perhaps focused as little more on reading, writing, and critical thinking, perhaps they might have questioned section 4, part 3, paragraph 14 a little more. After all, while it did say I had to sell them as a single piece of property, it didn’t say anything about what the buyer could do with them afterwards.
I chuckled a little to myself as we walked to my car, I had no intention of selling them any time soon. But just like Yvonne, my first wife that I had just sold to one of the tax shelters, they all had a limited shelf life.
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