Alena's Game

[Author's note: if you don't like to read about female domination, 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. The first item on Quinn's list was denial, but Alena has interpreted it very differently to how he intended. Will he go through with what she's suggesting?]

---

RULES OF ENGAGEMENT

Cassie checked through her notes while Quinn paced back and forth in front of the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of the meeting space.

"I'm up to speed on where we got to last session, do you want to sit down, and we can continue?"

Quinn continued to pace, shaking his head.

"Well, firstly, let me ask you this," Cassie continued, "How do you think it's going so far for you? Is it...?"

"Helping. Yes. It's helping."

"You seem a little on edge. Do you want to maybe come back to this later?"

"I'm fine. I'm...."

Quinn stopped and pushed his hands deep into his pockets. Cassie watched him looking out at the high-rise buildings, giving him time to shape his thoughts. She was surprised when he laughed.

"I'm just so absolutely desperate for it."

"For sex?"

"Yes. It comes in waves, sometimes I can go days without really thinking about it. Sometimes, it's like I should be on some kind of watchlist. I can't concentrate."

"Like today?"

"Exactly like today. I have to confess, and I don't mean to offend, but even right now I'm, uh...."

"Erect?" Cassie ventured.

"Within the confines of the cage, yes. I'm absolutely rigid."

He sighed. "Days like these, even a nice smile is enough to set me off."

"Have I?" Cassie asked, "I didn't mean to."

"It's not you, it's me. It's this cage, it's Alena, it's the last thing she ever did for me, or to me, or, I don't know."

"How long have you been in the cage now?"

"About nine months. Nine months since she died, since she sealed up an envelope with a set of notes and maybe the key, maybe not."

"How long had you ever gone before this?"

"A month, tops. Alena went away on a study tour. She made sure I was locked up for two weeks before she left, and then for good measure, she added some days on after. I thought my balls would explode, but this, Cassie, this is so much worse."

Cassie tapped on the keyboard, making notes, before she spoke again.

"You know, if it's interfering with your progress, I would recommend removing it."

"I don't have the key."

"It's probably in the brown envelope she sealed up. You could open that."

"I'm not allowed."

Cassie sighed, trying not to sound exasperated.

"Or we could look at cutting it off, or drilling the lock out."

"The drill would be best."

"So, you've contemplated it."

Quinn shook his head vigorously, "Sorry, Cassie, you're not getting it. I'm not allowed. I'm suffering, but Alena meant me to suffer. I don't have a choice."

"You always have a choice."

"She made the choice," Quinn snapped, surprising Cassie, "It's the last thing she did, and I will live with it."

Quinn had become agitated, running a hand through his close-cropped salt-and-pepper hair.

"I'm sorry. It's so unexpected, Cassie. Digging this all back up, it feels like ripping open a wound again. I was in tears for the rest of the day at home, after our last session. I got nothing done."

"No, I'm sorry."

"Not your fault. We're supposed to be digging into this, right? We need to extract the shrapnel."

Cassie paused, and Quinn looked across at her, inquisitively.

"You seem puzzled," he observed.

"No, not puzzled," Cassie replied.

"Then what?"

"Curious, I guess. I want to explore what you just said, or at least what was driving it."

"Okay. What do you want to know?"

"You said that she made the choice. Was that always the way? Do you think you had a choice?"

"Of course."

"No, I mean really. Do you think you were still able to make rational choices about the direction of your relationship?"

Quinn regarded her steadily. "You mean, did I lose myself?" he asked.

"Yes. The power dynamics of it all, there...."

"You mean I was always bargaining from a position of weakness," Quinn interrupted.

He fell silent, looking down at the floor for a long time, then he nodded to himself.

"I lost myself," he confessed, at last, "There were times when I got so caught up in it that I didn't make rational choices. Worse, I knew I wasn't making rational choices. Is that what you wanted to know?"

Cassie chose her words carefully. "There's a fine line between power play and abuse."

To her surprise, Quinn smiled.

"Ah," he rumbled, "That old chestnut. Yes, there is, I was well aware of that. Alena was certainly smart enough to know that too. There were points where a little bit more pressure, a little extra push, and she could have made me do anything. We danced on the edge a few times."

"And what happened?"

"She always pulled us back. She never crossed that line, ever."

Cassie cleared her throat, suddenly nervous to ask the question she needed answered.

"How do you know that?"

Quinn shook his head. "I don't understand."

"How do you know she never crossed the line? Your relationship position was reset several times."

"Because I'm not some mindless plaything, Cassie. Yes, she surprised me and blindsided me, kept me guessing, but afterwards I could play it all back in my head and see her plan. I knew what she was doing. This might sound like blowing my own trumpet, but I didn't get to where I am in my profession without being able to see multiple sides of the argument, even if they were antithetical. Lying awake in bed afterwards, in the dark, I battled with it endlessly."

"So, you were conflicted."

"I guess, but not in the way that you think. Sure, there was a voice telling me it was ludicrous to let my wife treat me that way, that I needed to stand up for myself, that she was smart enough to be conditioning me and I needed to watch out for myself, but then there was the other part."

Quinn broke off and looked down at his hands. He took a moment to finish his line of thought.

"The part of me that was just so tired, Cassie. The constant pressure to win, all my life. There was an awful case I worked on, just like another one years ago that I ended up needing to take stomach pills for, but this time, I opened the door at home and there she was, dressed in nothing but her stockings and those damn stiletto heels. She told me to strip, bent me over a chair, and slapped me hard on the buttocks a dozen times. Then, after that was done, she welcomed me home and asked me how my day was. You know what I said?"

Cassie shook her head.

"I told her that my day was good. I was standing in front of her with a glowing backside and my gorgeous sexy wife nude in front of me, and that was all that mattered. She lifted the weight, just like that."

Quinn shrugged, studying Cassie's reaction. "She knew when to push and when to retreat. I think I only ever used the safeword two or three times, in years. We knew what we each needed, and we trusted each other to never push too far. It was like freefall, with each of us holding the other's parachute cord. You see now?"

Without waiting for a response, he strode over to the chair opposite her and deposited his tall, gangly frame on the soft cushion. Quinn rolled his shoulders and took a deep breath.

"Let's go," he stated.

Cassie blinked, rousing herself from her thoughts.

"You're driving," she replied, "Where are we starting from?"

Quinn shrugged, raising his eyebrows.

"I guess the day after she said we were going to try denial. The first day of everything. After what we just covered, it seems like a good place to pick it up from."

---

The next morning, Alena was already up and out of bed by the time I awoke. Our discussion, and the night's activities, came back to me gradually, buffered by the after-effects of most of a bottle of red wine from the night before. I had to admit a certain amount of trepidation, knowing that I needed to broach the subject with her again to establish that we were going through the list, and that denial was the first item on the agenda. I realised that we'd locked it in without even so much as a cursory discussion about the mechanics of it. I had no idea of the rules of engagement.

I hauled myself out of bed and remembered that I was still naked from the night before. The memory resurfaced of Alena beneath me, her body moving under mine, and I felt a twinge of desire surfacing. I hopped into the shower quickly, pulled some clothes on and then went to find my wife.

Alena was in the back garden, sitting at the outside table with a coffee and her phone, scrolling aimlessly. She looked up as I appeared.

"Morning, sleepyhead," she grinned.

"Any coffee left?" I asked.

"Sure, I could do with a refill too."

Without thinking about it, I took her mostly empty cup and retreated into the kitchen. I put the cups under the machine and pressed the buttons, waiting while the machine hissed and steamed. I was thinking about my wife, outside. She seemed happy. It had to be a good sign.

I brought the coffees back out and took a seat at the table.

"What're you reading? The news?"

"No," she replied, "I've moved onto other things."

"Such as?"

"Research."

"Doing work on the weekend?"

Alena put the phone down on the table and those blue eyes fixed on me. She was sitting there like she had done a hundred times before, in a baggy top and leggings, her auburn hair dishevelled in a tangled halo around her pretty face. My eyes drifted down to her crossed legs, noticing the way the tight leggings showed off her body.

"Like what you see?"

"Uh, yes. Of course."

"Enjoy it."

It wasn't what she said, but the way she said it, her smile frozen now, her eyes appraising me.

"Why?" I asked.

"It's the last free look you get, honey. From this point on, you're going to have to earn that privilege."

My eyes snapped up from her lovely legs immediately.

"What?"

"Quinn, you didn't ask what research I was doing while you were sleeping."

She cocked her head to one side, studying my reaction. It would normally have been cute, but there was something else in her expression now, something new.

"What are you up to?" I asked, carefully.

Alena tapped the phone screen with a manicured nail, not answering me immediately.

"I've been researching ground rules. I was reading stories of couples that go in for this denial stuff," she said, raising her eyebrows, "And, wow, it's quite a thing to do. I'm really surprised you wanted to try it."

I could have pointed out that she had decided that I was the one going into denial last night, that I hadn't agreed to any of it yet, but there was something about the way she was behaving that stopped me.

"Now that's something I'm not use to," she said, giving me another cute little smile, "My husband lost for words, for once."

This nudged me into action. "What have you found out?" I asked.

"Everything, I think. At least in theory. I read the journal of a woman who was asked by her husband to put him into denial. It was fascinating, reading how she went about it, how she started, what she managed to make him do."

Alena shifted in her seat, leaning forward now.

"How it ended up."

I looked at her, trying to work out what she was thinking. Too late, I realised that I hadn't really done my homework, at least not to the same extent as my wife. Something in it had engaged the scientist in her. While I slept, she'd been gathering data, designing the experiment. I wasn't ahead of her anymore, I was suddenly trying to keep up.

"So," she continued, her voice like honey, "I guess the first question is how far do you want to go with this?"

"You seem very keen. Much more than last night."

"I am. I really am," she confessed, "It's not the sex games, it's the behavioural aspect. It's fascinating."

She uncrossed her legs and put her feet up on the spare chair, recrossing at her ankles and giving me an unrestricted view of the way the tight grey material clung to her shapely thighs.

"Ah, what did I say?" she asked.

I looked back up to her face, dumbfounded.

"You aren't allowed to look, remember. That's a demerit."

"Demerit? What?"

Alena leaned back, stretching her body out luxuriously.

"Yes. I told you. You need to earn that privilege, not just take it."

"As in, looking at my own wife?" I sputtered, "Seriously?"

"Seriously. Or, let me put it this way, you can keep ogling me but each time you do, it just pushes it back further."

"Pushes what back? What are you talking about?"

Alena actually laughed. I hadn't expected that.

"Wow, this is going just like the journal. It's like there's a universal manual for men, and I'm just finding out about it now."

I picked up my cup and took a swig of coffee. I didn't like where this conversation was going.

"So you're all clued up and I'm in the dark. Fantastic."

"Oh honey, don't be like that," she pouted at me, eyes crinkling with mirth at my discomfort. "All you had to do was read up. But you didn't, so why don't I get you up to speed?"

"Oh yes. Please do."

Alena put her hands behind her head and smiled at me.

"Here are the rules. First, you're in denial, which means that there's no chance of you getting anywhere near me until one of two things happen."

"And those are?" I glowered back at her.

"Well, firstly, you can earn the privilege by doing things for me. If I think you've done enough, I'll let you have your way with me."

"So it's all completely up to you? I don't get a say?"

"Oh honey, no. That's the thing, you're in denial. You don't get a say in any of this. You do what I say or you don't get your happy ending."

"Second? You said there was a second way."

"Oh sure, yes. We get to the end of the denial period."

"And how long is this period? Or don't I get to pick that either?"

"Ah, now that is actually something we need to agree on. It's the only lever you have, realistically, choosing the length of the experiment."

I leaned forward, eager to get to the answer.

"So, how long for?"

"A week."

I snorted. "So, no sex for a week, that's it?"

"Unless you volunteer to go longer. You might want to extend it."

"Why on earth would I want to do that?" I laughed, "That would be insane."

"As insane as suggesting denial in the first place? How about this. How about we lock in the week, so we can get started."

"Fine. Okay."

My pretty wife's face lit up. "Oh, that was really too easy," she exclaimed, suddenly delighted.

"What was?"

"Getting you to go for an entire week, straight from the go. I was expecting to have to negotiate."

I sighed. "You're really enjoying this, aren't you?"

Alena picked up her cup and took a sip of coffee.

"You know what? I am, Quinn, I really am. This could be very interesting."

That was the thing about it, she was enjoying herself. Something about this game, about getting one over on me with her little manipulations, was really getting her excited. I had misgivings, though, unused to seeing this behaviour from my usually very reserved and conservative wife. But this was why I'd created the list, after all: to get the spice back into our life, and it was working. I really had to see where this was going to go. I needed to find out the rules and play the game. I needed to see Alena get into it.

"So, tell me about the demerits and the, uh, privileges. What are the rules?"

"It's simple. Every nice thing you do gets you a point. Every bad thing you do loses you a point."

"So what's my tally now?"

Alena frowned, wrinkling her nose in a way that I found irresistible. She was having fun, and despite my unease at the shifting ground of our relationship, so was I.

"So, leering at me without permission, twice, that's minus two points."

"Ah, hold on. The first time doesn't count. I can't be punished for a rule that you hadn't announced. That's unconstitutional."

Alena giggled. "Oh, so now you're squirming. This isn't a court of law, sweetheart. In this court, I'm the prosecution, the jury, and the judge."

"Then how am I going to get a fair trial?"

"Oh dear, isn't that obvious? You aren't," she smirked, her blue eyes sparkling.

My mouth set in a firm line. "If it's not fair, if you don't play by the rules, then there's no incentive."

Alena got up from her chair, walked around to my side of the table and plopped herself down in my lap. She wrapped her arms around my shoulders and gave me a squeeze.

"The point is that it's not fair. I'm going to take advantage of the situation I've put you in for my own amusement," she said, her weight shifting in my crotch, "But there is an incentive for you. Is this incentive enough? You stick to the rules and you reap the rewards."

I could feel the weight of her body in my lap, the softness of her bottom pushing down on my crotch. I was almost sure she was doing it to tease me, which was very out of character. What had she been reading before I found her? The faint flush of her cheeks told me that this was turning her on. It was also turning me on. Maybe I needed to just let this run.

"In that case, the defence rests, your honour," I conceded.

Alena smiled sweetly and gave me a peck on the lips.

"That was free, for being a good boy," she said. "Also, you got me a coffee, which counts as a merit point So, at this stage, you're just one point behind."

"And how do I make that point up?"

"I'll find a way."

I grinned at her, feeling the warmth of my wife's body against mine in the morning sun.

"You think you've got this nailed, don't you, Quinn?"

"Maybe." I was going to give nothing away.

"You think you'll get into positive territory and grab yourself a reward, don't you?"

"Like I said, maybe. I do nice things for you all the time."

"Oh sweetheart, you really have no idea."

She was appraising me again, the last words delivered with a mocking smile, and for a moment, I felt unsure of my footing. Alena leaned in again, planting soft little kisses on my cheek and then gently nibbling my earlobe. That little action sent little shivers down my spine and I felt my manhood twitch involuntarily.

"I'm going to make sure you're not going to know where to look," she breathed sexily into my ear, "Until you're so far in the red you're never going to break even."

She continued to nibble my ear.

"And one more thing. When I ask you to extend at the end of the week, the period automatically doubles. You'll go into denial for a fortnight."

"And why on earth would I do that Alena? That's insane."

"We'll see. By the time I'm done, we'll see."

---

Cassie paused as soon as Quinn stopped talking, running through her notes again.

"Seems she was way ahead of you," Cassie observed.

"Way ahead, and from that point, no matter what I did, what I read, whatever I predicted, she was always at least one step in front. Alena was one of the smartest people I'd ever met, and now suddenly she was turning all that mental firepower on a new research project. Me."

Quinn clasped his hands together, lost in thought for a moment.

"Whatever I did, she just kept getting further ahead, lobbing smokescreens out behind her to confuse me, until I was reeling, until I had no idea what she was going to do next. Then, she kept me like that."

"But you could have stopped it."

Quinn nodded, and continued, "Yes, at the start, I could have. Even then, on that weekend, there was another road we could have gone down. I could have just happily sat there and admired the way she looked, racking up my demerits, then cajoled her into bed with kisses."