Alena's Game Ch. 09

[Author's note: if you don't like to read about female domination or male chastity, please skip to the next story, or check out my other stories for something that's more to your taste.

Through a series of counselling session with Cassie, his therapist, Quinn is trying to come to terms with how his wife Alena managed to transform him from her assured, overbearing husband into her willing slave.

Quinn has been conditioned to accept the cock cage as Alena takes ownership of his basic ability to have an erection. She has revealed her darkest fantasies to him and Quinn now needs to decide whether he will let his wife humiliate him or whether he stops the games]

---

TORMENTED BY LOVE

"So, you called her Mistress," Cassie remarked, "That's a big step."

"It's one step you can't go back on," Quinn nodded, agreeing, "All the other things we did, even the cage and the surrender, they were all within the boundaries of the experiment. This was the end of all that."

"How did she take it?"

"That night? With me holding her? There was nothing more said. I wrapped my arms around her and she went to sleep. I didn't sleep for hours, and not because of the cage. I was left to process everything she had revealed, trying to understand my own reaction."

He took a swig of water from his drink bottle.

"It's not as if I didn't know what I was saying. I hadn't just blurted it out. I'd been through enough forums compiling the list, and to be honest, even before all that I was fascinated by the idea of one person surrendering completely to the other. Maybe that was a precursor, a sign that I should have heeded, but yes, I knew what it meant to call her Mistress. It's just that at the start of the game, I had no idea I'd ever say it."

He laughed ruefully.

"I have to confess that when I was drawing up the list, I'd fully anticipated that if we were going to go down that route, she'd be calling me Master. I had daydreamed about how I could entice her onto her knees in front of me, never imagining that I'd be the one wanting to kneel before her instead."

Quinn flipped the lid onto the drink bottle and slid it into his bag, saying, "But that's probably something for next time."

Cassie stopped typing, surprised by Quinn's abrupt termination of their session.

"Is that all you want to talk about for today?"

Quinn shrugged. "I guess so," he replied, but he didn't move towards the door.

"Is the next part difficult for you to talk about?" Cassie asked.

Quinn shook his head. "Later, that's the hard part. What happened next is, uh, it's just hard to explain, sitting here in this room."

"Would it help if we changed venues?"

Quinn considered the question, then cocked his head to the side, giving Cassie a little smile.

"What are you doing tonight?" he asked.

---

Cassie had to talk to Damian, explain the situation with a client who needed to meet out of office hours. She made dinner for him and the twins, making sure they had all eaten, and left her husband reading stories to the boys while she slipped out of the room. Damian acted as if he believed her, merely enquiring when she might be home. As Cassie grabbed a little bag from next to the front door containing a change of clothes, she reflected how easy it was becoming for them to lie to each other, how little Damian appeared to care about where she went and who she met.

Cassie drove herself into the city. She wasn't intending to drink and it was the middle of the week. Parking in a side street, she slipped quickly into the club and through to the back. The club was dead at eight o'clock and Tony wasn't guarding the entrance to the Lost and Found. Wednesdays were like that.

Quinn was waiting at the bar, sipping a lemonade. There was a girl behind the bar that Cassie didn't recognise, otherwise the club itself was deserted.

"It's a bit of a ghost town this early," Quinn called out as she approached. "Still, it means you don't have to wait for a drink."

Cassie sat down on the stool next to him.

"What would you like?" he asked.

"I'll get it," Cassie replied.

"No, please, I insist, Mistress."

She shot a look at Quinn to see whether he was playing or serious.

"Really, Cassie, what can I get you?" Quinn asked, grinning.

"Soda and lime," Cassie answered.

She felt relieved. The last thing she wanted to do this evening was become Mistress Grace, leading Quinn around on his hands and knees. For a moment, she had wondered if that was why he'd arranged to meet her here, so he could indulge his other side, be the submissive to her.

"Please, Quinn, don't do that."

The smile faded from Quinn's face as he realised that he'd made Cassie uncomfortable.

"Oh, sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't... I was just trying to lighten the mood."

Quinn gestured around the empty space. "It's just a little dead in here. I'm used to there being a lot more, uh, life."

"It's okay, Quinn. I get it."

"We just need to keep separation I guess."

"Yes," Cassie agreed, "We need to have clear separation. I'm not even your mistress."

Quinn flinched and Cassie instantly regretted her choice of words.

"I know," he said, "But you are a mistress, and that's as close as I can get."

"To be honest, it's more of an honorific title that Syn bestowed on me. Like an honorary doctorate."

The girl behind the bar delivered Cassie's soda and lime. Quinn paid. He got up from his stool, glass in hand and Cassie stood too.

"You're being modest, Cassidy Hayes," Quinn said, taking in the empty room with a sweep of his hand, "I have seen mistresses come and go and I can say, categorically, that you are the real deal, even if you don't yet realise it yourself. Syn thinks so too."

Cassie cradled her drink, watching the emotions play across the face of the tall, lean man in front of her.

"Except for Syn and perhaps one or two others here, you could lose and find the rest of them. Psychologist by day, dominatrix by night. The trouble is you don't think you really fit in here, but you do."

Quinn finished speaking and then nodded towards the door next to the bar.

"But enough about you, let's talk about me," he said with a self-deprecating smile that Cassie found herself warming to, "Shall we? I want to provide you with some context."

---

The first time Alena ever took me to the Lost and Found was the weekend after I had first called her Mistress. We had needed to have an earnest discussion at breakfast after that event and I realised how much I had set Alena on the back foot with the M word. I had to explain that no, I hadn't been doing any research because she had forbidden me, but I had obviously become familiar with the idea of dominants and submissives in what I laughingly referred to as my thorough pre-reading when I compiled my initial list of fantasies and fetishes for us to try. It turned out that Alena had been much more thorough on the subject than me. She knew what it meant to me when I called her Mistress, what I was asking for.

Alena had nodded politely, and then suggested that if that was the path I wanted to go down, then we should make an honest attempt of it. I could tell it made her nervous, and I suppose it's a lot of pressure, but she cleared away the breakfast things and then announced that there was a club, and that we should visit. If we were both serious, then we should at least see how that life was lived.

Then she took me into the bathroom, unlocked my cage and we enjoyed a shower together, with no complications, no games, just spending time together before getting dressed for our days. Alena put on stockings, so I was able to go out to work almost completely dressed, minus the underwear, of course.

When Friday night came round, we were both a little giddy, like school kids about to embark on a trip. I wore a shirt and trousers, trying to look smart enough for a night out in the city. I had no idea of the proper dress code, but assumed that I wouldn't go far wrong with a nice shirt and leather shoes.

Alena on the other hand was a nervous wreck. What does a middle-aged woman wear to a kink club? What is the proper dress code for a domme? She turned to the internet for help, but that just made it even worse.

"Dress to impress," I told her, holding her shoulders in my hands, "And breathe."

Alena made a face.

"Are you regretting this now?"

"Bigtime, Quinn. I don't know what I was thinking."

"We don't have to go."

Alena wrinkled her nose at me.

"That's just cowardice then. It would also not be fair on you, after having kept you without any satisfaction at all for a week."

"So, I'm going to get lucky tonight?"

Alena stared at me, then relented. "Yes," she confirmed, "Win or lose, I'm going to make your night very special. It's the least that I owe you."

She looked back to her wardrobe.

"I'm such a basket case."

I took her chin and turned her head so that she was looking at me. Her fretting subsided. I summoned up my nerve.

"May I dress you," I said, in a level, respectful tone, "Mistress?"

Alena searched my eyes. I could feel the uncertainty in her, the conflict. Suddenly, I was the one pushing her too far. The shoe was on the other foot.

"Please?" I continued.

"Okay. Where do we start?"

I took her through to the bathroom and ran the shower, stripping us both off. I lathered her body meticulously, making sure I paid close attention to every inch of her skin. Then I knelt down before her, soaping Alena between her legs and very carefully shaving her crotch until she was smooth and clean, finishing with a kiss on her tiny, sensitive nub. I shaved her legs, taking my time, letting her experience the feeling of being pampered by her man. Afterwards, I dried her off and led her back through to the bedroom where I had her sit on the bed while I chose her clothes.

I picked out a lingerie set, dark sheer hose and a matching lacy set of bra and panties. She didn't resist as I dressed her, clipping the bra into place and pulling the stockings up her freshly shaven legs. I delved into her wardrobe, hunting for the knee-length leather skirt I remembered she had and a dark blouse, and finally, her four-inch stilettos. I led her to the full-length mirror to let her see how she looked.

"There," I murmured, proudly, "See? Not so hard. What do you think?"

I watched the reflection of her face in the mirror, trying to gauge her reaction. The nervous expression was gone now, replaced by the twinkle of wry humour.

"Not bad," she commented.

I sighed audibly.

"What? I said not bad."

"I was hoping for, uh...."

"A little more?"

"After all the shaving and the pampering, frankly, yes."

"You've already been rewarded enough."

I hadn't expected that response. "How so?" I blurted.

"You were allowed to pamper me. You even took the opportunity to have an unsanctioned taste of my pussy, you wretch."

My mouth dropped open. "Alena, I...."

"Mistress," Alena snapped, "It's Mistress to you. When did I say you could address me so casually?"

"Uh, sorry," I stammered, "Mistress."

"Mistress, or Mistress Alena. Or beautiful goddess."

"Yes, Mistress Alena," I replied, thinking that goddess was maybe going a little too far.

"Good boy. Now, what should I call you? Any ideas?"

"I'm sure I'm not worthy of offering a suggestion," I replied, a little sarcastically.

Alena's eyes narrowed. "Did I detect a tone in your voice?" she accused, "Do you have an opinion you would like to share?"

"No, Mistress. My opinions would be unworthy," I replied, keeping a straight face.

Alena grinned, cunningly. I could tell she was enjoying our banter.

"I agree, you're far too lowly to offer me opinions. Just a lowly worm."

"A worm?" I echoed.

"Ah, no," Alena replied, "Not a worm, not just any worm. You're my worm. You belong to me, remember."

Her blue eyes sparkled as she spoke and I felt my heart lift, seeing her doubt evaporate.

"You have pleased me," she intoned, "You may bestow a kiss."

Smiling I leaned towards her pretty face, my eyes on her soft lips. Her hand pressed against my chest, stopping me. Her expression hardened.

"I don't think I granted you the privilege."

I stalled, uncertain, "I thought you asked for a kiss. I don't understand."

"Ah, poor worm, you're going to need to learn quickly. Husbands kiss lips. Where do worms kiss?"

I gaped at her, but she didn't relent, keeping her expression impassive, superior. It was a look that at one time would have appeared so alien on my wife's pretty features, but now seemed quite natural to her. I stared into her eyes and realised that she wasn't bluffing; she meant it.

Slowly, feeling shame bubbling up within myself, I sank to my knees in front of my wife and lowered my mouth to her foot. Hesitantly, I leaned forward and planted a kiss on her ankle, feeling the friction of her sheer nylon stocking against my lips. Alena didn't react, so I sought out her other ankle and planted a kiss there too, before sitting back on my haunches to look up at my wife's face. She was smiling, the glint in her eye telling me that my actions had stoked the fires within her. Feeling my manhood throb into life, I realised my actions had stirred something inside me too.

"Stand up," she ordered, "And go fetch me the leather coat. I think a lacy camisole and the coat would go better."

She gave me a warm smile, the condescending tone gone now, "You were pretty close, though. Thank you. What would I do without you?"

---

I'll dispense with the details of getting into the club, since it's old ground now, after all this time; except to say that we were both nervous like virgins as Tony gave us the once-over. I almost expected him to turn us away, and I was just about ready to take Alena by the arm and avoid the embarrassment when he opened the rope and let us through. We made a bee-line for the bar, neither of us looking left or right, not nearly brave enough at all. I still remember seeing people out of the corner of my eye, and all the while the same thought was going through my head: what the hell were we doing here?

One look at Alena confirmed that she was thinking the same thing, and we clung to each other at one of the little cocktail tables, like castaways holding onto a raft, in a sea of latex and leather among people who were oh so much more into this than we were. Then a young girl appeared.

She was just a girl back then but I know who she is now, and how she goes from table to table saying hello, and the reasons for all that, checking in. It was as if the Lost and Found, conscious of its fearsomeness, chose to show its approachable underbelly. That said, the petite woman with the knowing smile and the dark hair was just about as much as either of us could handle. She introduced herself as Eve and gave us the brief induction, the house rules, where to sit to meet new friends or have some privacy. As she talked, we began to ask questions, and my wife introduced us both as Alena and Quinn. All the grand plan of mistresses and worms and showing our new relationship was thrown out of the window. No battle plan, as they say, survives contact with the enemy.

Eve introduced us to a few people. I was struck by the normality of it all, once I managed to put aside the attire and the rest of it, just people out to have a good time on a Friday night with people like themselves. I obtained a round and found myself in conversation with a man with broad shoulders and that sort of readily engaging personality that just seems to smooth the friction out of the room. He introduced himself and...."

---

Quinn fell silent in the middle of the room. We had been meandering as he talked, heading towards the door that led upstairs into the private area, but now Quinn turned, eyes tracking movement that only he could see, reliving a memory.

"There," he said at last, pointing at a table, "I was just there. He introduced himself, larger than life. He said his name was Harvey. Of course, I only found out later that he ran the place, and that much from Eve. Harvey was never one to blow his own trumpet."

Quinn smiled, lost in thought, "He had every right to, though. He owned the club, he'd made his money from nothing, building up a solid property business, and of course, he had Syn. The man with everything."

Quinn laughed to himself. "The world in the palm of his hand. And then...."

Quinn shrugged and turned towards the door. When he reached it, he swung it open, holding it for Cassie. Quinn cast one look back at the table.

"I wish it had gone better for him. I wish, more than anything, that it had gone better for Alena. Sometimes, the world is just fucked."

---

We stayed at our table for the entire night, not trusting ourselves to seclude ourselves in a booth out of the way. It just looked too serious in the shadows behind the little table spotlights, like wandering too far into unknown territory. By ten thirty, we both shared a look that told each other we were done. We had braved this new world and survived, and were spent. Then Harvey came back.

"Not sure if this is of interest, but there's a demonstration upstairs. Perfectly fine if you've already seen all you want to see tonight. It's a lot to take in, I know, but if you're curious...?"

"Is it, uh, extra?" I ventured.

Harvey bellowed at this. "Oh, it's extra alright, a lot extra to this," he said, indicating the people around them with a finger, "But if you mean is it a ticketed event, then no. Just come upstairs and see. Eve's conducting it. She's very good value."

I looked at Alena, who simply stared back at me. For all our newfound dominant and submissive dynamic, my wife was clearly letting me lead the charge here.

"Okay, we're in," I said.

Harvey grinned wolfishly. "Well done, good sport. Two more of us," he chuckled conspiratorially, "Two less of them."

He beckoned us to follow and led us to the door next to the bar, through it and up the stairs. Two less of them, I thought to myself, feeling how tightly my wife was gripping my hand as we ascended the stairs. We had been them, only a few weeks ago. Now we were something else.

Walking down the corridor, Harvey led us to the third door and opened it. There was a small group of people assembled, perching on barstools on one side of the room. Eve stood on the other side, next to a set of shelves that contained all manner of objects, and lengths of soft crimson rope. I noticed that there were large, sturdy eyebolts set into a bar across the ceiling and at various places in the walls. Eve acknowledged us as we entered, and we found a couple of empty stools at the back.

"Over to you," Harvey boomed, nodding to Eve, and then closed the door, leaving us in a room full of strangers.

Eve stepped forward, raising a hand in greeting.

"Hi, my name's Eve," she announced, "I'll be your guide for the evening. Please keep hands and legs inside the vehicle at all times, remembering your nearest emergency exit may be behind you."

There was a low rumble of laughter among the dozen people in attendance.

"So, first. Anyone ever tied anyone up before? Show of hands."

Seven or eight hands went up. I looked at Alena and nodded. She tentatively raised a hand too.

"Okay. Bed? Floor? Furniture?"

There were nods.

"Tonight is different. I'll be showing you a little bit about suspension. Right off the bat, I'll say this."

Eve paused and swept the crowd with her gaze.

"Attention. Good. This is not tying someone up. This is suspending a human body from an anchor point. The level of danger for the recipient is increased by an order of magnitude. Check twice, tie once, then keep checking."

Eve walked over to the shelves an picked up a heavy coil of red rope.