Inverted Male Chastity

After my mother shot down my pleas to cover my medical bills the 100th time, I clutched my bone cancer diagnosis papers and trudged to the crematorium. "Hi, I'd like to reserve a cremation slot ahead of time," I muttered to the clerk. Half an hour ticked by before my parents and adopted brother arrived in their car. My dad, a forensic pathologist, cracked me across the face. "You're pulling a fake-death stunt now, just to steal the spotlight from your brother?" My mom, a hospital director, snatched the papers from my hands and shredded them into confetti. "Faking records using my credentials and tying up hospital resources? You've crossed the line!" My brother cried, tugging at their sleeves. "It's all my fault. I'll skip the amusement park forever. I don't need a thing. Just quit riling up Mom and Dad." I spun around, my hand pressed against my throbbing chest, and begged the crematorium staff. "Please, when it's time, cremate me and scatter the ashes in the river. I've got no family left in this world."

My brother-in-law had a sudden heart attack. The doctor said only my wife could perform the specific surgery he needed. It was a critical situation. By the time I finally managed to get through to her, her childhood sweetheart answered the phone. "We're just about to head out camping," he said casually. "We won't be coming back tonight." My heart sank. "Ryan had a heart attack. He needs surgery immediately. Tell her to come back to the hospital—now." Instead, my wife's irritated voice cut through. "Are you done? How dare you make up a lie like that and curse my brother!" Before I could explain, she hung up. When I tried calling back, her phone was already off. In the end, my brother-in-law died because the window for surgery closed. And my wife lost her mind.

Three years ago, during a critical moment of a business negotiation, the proprietary data I personally compiled ended up becoming the weapon that secured the victory for my business rival. I was taken away on the charges of leaking corporate secrets—and my girlfriend, Kelly Stone, smugly flashes the proprietary data at me, mocking me for my foolishness. After being given a five-year prison sentence, I suffered endless torture behind bars and died from the internal injuries. However, I got to witness everything that happened following my death. Whitney Evans, a college senior of mine who had a thing for me, did everything in her power to clear my name. She sold her company and pursued every avenue she could. In the end, after losing everything, she cried herself unconscious at my grave. Then, suddenly, my eyes opened again. I saw Kelly sneaking a USB drive into her handbag before turning to leave. I grabbed the USB drive from her and looked her in the eye, warning, "What you're doing is against the law, Kelly. I advise you to watch yourself from now on. Also, it's over between us. Don't even set foot inside my office again." Immediately, I went looking for Whitney. Three years have passed since then. In that time, I've managed to secure success in both career and love. It won't be long before I complete the acquisition of my company's business rival, Havenshire Group. Yet, the night before the official signing, I drink a glass of milk that Whitney gives me. My body swiftly goes weak, and I collapse on the couch. When I regain consciousness, I find myself lying on the floor with my hands and feet bound in metal chains. I can hear Kelly's and Whitney's voices ringing loud and clear. "No one will be able to see that you forged Caleb's signature for the share transfer agreement with Sam as the recipient, right?" "We'll just keep Caleb locked up here, so who's going to know that the signature is forged? His company has been expanding too quickly. We can't let him ruin Sam. It's all your fault, anyway, Kelly. I wouldn't have had to waste all those years on Caleb if you'd just stolen the data back then!" Taking in my restraints, I let out a self-deprecating smile. All along, I believed that Whitney and I loved each other. Turns out I've just been deluded this whole time. If Kelly and Whitney care about Samuel Gibson that much, they'd better spend every moment of their lives guarding him from now on. I'm going to do everything in my power to destroy him!

Flynn Watson, the actual heir of the Watson family, reported me for cheating during the exams. As I stared at both copies of the test papers with perfect grades and the same answers, I found it difficult to explain what happened. Everyone took Flynn's side. Because of that, I was painted as a cheater, which resulted in my exile from the Watson family. The Watsons went as far as to get me blacklisted from all industries just so they could appease Flynn. I ended up on the streets as a homeless person, where I got tormented incessantly. In a daze, I got hit by a car. I still failed to understand why my test papers would show the same answers as Flynn's even when I was on death's door. When I open my eyes again, I've gotten reborn on the day of the exams. This time, I choose to not write anything on the exam papers at all. I'd like to see just how I can be branded as a cheater now that I'm not given any marks at all.

Mabel Landry and I have been in love with each other for ten years. Our relationship has started since our school days, and we've been married for years. All in all, we're the perfect couple that everyone envies. But I get into an accident on our tenth year anniversary. When Mabel arrives at the hospital, she looks at me with pain and sorrow in her eyes. "Why are you this careless, Dustin? If anything does happen to you, I might as well die!" I'm about to console Mabel when I suddenly see two live comments streaking across my vision. "Mabel Landry is nothing but a filthy cheater! Despite that loving facade of hers, the truth is, she's already slept with her side piece behind Dustin's back!" "When will Dustin finally realize that Mabel has already cheated on him with someone else?"

When my cousin, Rita Pike, brings her boyfriend, Benny Booker, home to meet her parents, I get labelled as a freeloader for some reason. As soon as Benny steps through the front door, he shoots me a disdainful glance. "You're the cousin who refuses to move out of my girlfriend's villa, right?" I just stare at him in confusion. Yes, I do live in this villa. But my parents have left this property to me as a part of my assets. My name is the one printed on the property deed. Heck, I'm the one who told my butler to give Rita a room to stay here! Why is it that I'm painted as the poor relative who refuses to move out now that she's dating another man?

To save my wife, my lungs were pierced by a knife, leaving lasting consequences. When I fell ill and struggled to breathe, she said I was dramatic and went on a business trip with her childhood friend. When she returned, I found a man's underwear in her suitcase that did not belong to me. I calmly made the call: "Director, I've made up my mind. I'm going to assist in Avrika." Later, at the airport, she bent down, publicly lowering her head and begging for my forgiveness.

In the late stages of her pregnancy, my wife slipped away into the mountains with her childhood sweetheart, seeking some reckless thrill under the open sky. Fate, however, had other plans. She suffered a massive hemorrhage, and the two were rushed to the hospital. As a doctor, I took one glance at her condition and instructed the nurse to prepare for the cremation. In my previous life, I had risked everything to save her. On that very operating table, she and the child inside her perished together. Her childhood sweetheart, overcome with grief and fury, rallied others to accuse me of seeking personal revenge. Their rage was relentless, and they broke my hands. "A butcher like you, without medical ethics, deserves nothing less than eternal damnation!" they shouted, their words burning like brands on my soul. Yet I distinctly remembered—the surgery had been a success. Her vital signs had stabilized. Clinging to hope, I begged my in-laws to conduct an autopsy, to uncover the truth buried beneath the accusations. Instead, they called the police, who swiftly charged me with performing surgery under the influence of alcohol. Stripped of my rights, I was thrown into prison, where suffering became my only companion. Years later, upon release, I stumbled across a sight that tore what was left of my heart to shreds—my wife, alive and well, behind the wheel of a luxury car, accompanied by her childhood sweetheart and their child, living off the fortune I had worked tirelessly to build. Their betrayal didn't end there. Coldly and methodically, they lured me into a trap, casting me into a cement mixer to erase every trace of my existence. When I next opened my eyes, time had rewound itself. I was back on that fateful day, the one when her hemorrhage began.

Everyone cheered on the most handsome student in our elective class, Jack Anderson, to reveal his ideal type. “My future wife has to be at least five feet five inches tall, and her parents must be professors. She also has to be beautiful and a top student in her field…” While everyone cheered, I immediately looked up. Why did the description… sound like my girlfriend, Cindy Swift? The next second, the professor standing next to the podium, Liam Swift, immediately smiled obsequiously. “That’s great! If Cindy hears this, she’ll be very happy! “You should meet her so that she wouldn’t go overseas over some silly guy.” Our classmates were roaring with laughter. I lowered my eyes and stared at the text message my parents had sent me. [You rascal! Are you sure you want to accompany your girlfriend overseas? No one will take over our family business, then!]

After the car accident, one of the Laurent heiresses has died, while the other lives. The moment my religious wife, Amelia Laurent, opens her eyes in the hospital, she addresses me as her brother-in-law. Then, she claims that her older sister, Penelope Laurent's soul has possessed her body. I quickly get all the doctors and priests I can find, hoping to swap Penelope's soul out for Amelia's. That is, until I overhear Amelia's conversation with our daughter, Charlotte Robinson, at night. "Mom, you've had a crush on Uncle Samuel for so many years, and you've even gone into abstinence by staying in the monastery for years. Now, you can finally be with him in the open." Amelia pats Charlotte on the head. "If it wasn't for the need to prevent your father from ruining Samuel's relationship back then, I wouldn't have married your father in the first place." As I struggle to register the truth from the shadows, I witness what happens next after Charlotte leaves the ward. Amelia, who has always prided herself on her composure and restraint; who has practiced abstinence for seven long years for the sake of her religion, proceeds to be physically intimate with Samuel Bennett—a fresh widower—on the cramped hospital bed. The next day, I apply for Amelia's death certificate immediately before burning our marriage certificate. On the day Amelia throws a grand proposal banquet for Samuel, I board the helicopter that has flown over to pick me up. But strangely enough, Amelia tears through the streets while chasing after the helicopter.