Alena's Game

[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.

Alena has revealed the extent she will go to in becoming his perfect mistress, even submitting herself to dominants to better understand her new role in her relationship with Quinn. It has given her the insight and confidence to step up her programme of conditioning of her husband into her slave.]

---

CAGE TRAINED

Alena continued to add more rules to our lives. The first one turned out to be no big surprise. One morning at breakfast, she casually announced that she had revoked my right to be dressed in the house. I gave her a look, but she shrugged.

"You still get to wear clothing outside and as a special favour I will also allow clothing in the garden. You spend a lot of time naked anyway, so this just makes it compulsory. Does that sound reasonable? I'll even stipulate that we turn up the heating a couple of degrees so you're comfortable."

That was it. She buttered a slice of toast and wandered off to get changed, but she stopped at the doorway, waiting. Reluctantly, I stripped out of my sleepwear.

"They were getting a bit ragged anyway," she smiled at me, "Better off without."

The other rule was a lot harder to take. She dropped that particular bombshell the next night.

We were unwinding after the day, she in tracksuit pants and a loose-fitting sweatshirt, crashed out on the couch. I was positioned on my cushion on the floor by her feet. We were watching a dating programme because Alena liked them, a reality show with ten couples in a house and a set of ridiculous rules that would snag them a large cash prize. I wasn't really following, my mind wandering aimlessly.

"We need to do a big shop at the weekend," she murmured, "So you have something to eat."

"Huh?" I replied, not really listening.

"I'm going to be away at the conference. I thought we should stock up so you don't need to go foraging while I'm away."

"Uh, sure."

I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned. Alena was resting her heel on my shoulder now.

"Yes?" I asked.

"Kiss it."

"Uh, really?"

"Yes, and if you do a nice job, I'll let you come to bed with me tonight."

I turned to look up at her, in surprise. Her foot slid off my shoulder, but she presented it to me again, wiggling her toes in front of my face.

"Kiss."

"Wait, what did you say about bed?"

In response, she pushed her big toe against my lips. I ignored her.

"Suck, or no sleep in same bed as wife. Simple enough?"

"We hadn't talked about this."

"Mistress," she corrected me, signalling that we were no longer man and wife cosily watching a show together. I was now expected to perform.

"We hadn't talked about this, Mistress."

"No. I don't think we have, but we are now. Basically, I've decided that sometimes it's just nice to have the bed to myself, without you crowding me, all desperate for attention all the time."

"If you let me...."

Alena pushed her big toe against my lips to quieten me.

"I know, I know. Quiet worm. If I wanted your opinion on how long you go between orgasms, I'd give it to you. Now, are you going to suck, or is it the guest bedroom tonight?"

She pushed against my lips and reluctantly, I allowed her big toe into my mouth. I pursed by lips around it and began to suck.

"Well done worm. Really, it was the only thing you could do."

I watched my wife snuggle her shoulders into the couch as I started to suck and lick her toes.

"Ooh, that's delicious. I think I have a foot fetish, and you know what that means don't you worm?"

She looked at me as if waiting for my answer, but my mouth was occupied with her toes.

"That's right, eventually, I'll work out a way to develop a foot fetish in you."

Alena watched me as I began to peck her instep with little kisses.

"You know, in my research I found that some wives have been successful in transitioning their husbands to a feet-only sexual relationship. Imagine that, only being able to get your rocks off on your wife's feet."

I paused, unnerved. Was she revealing her plans or just gossiping? She tapped her instep against my mouth and I obediently resumed my attentions.

"How would you go with that, worm? Your only release being though worshipping my feet? A hand job would be a rarity, being inside me just a distant memory. Would it drive you insane? I would be fascinated to see how you adapted to a life where your penis was surplus to requirements."

I felt her shiver with delight and concentrated on bestowing feathery kisses on her heel, but my mind was racing again. How hard would it be to make me into that? A sex-starved creature, craving the merest touch of my wife's body. The fact that she had researched stories of how other wives had achieved it with their poor husbands appalled me.

"Don't worry," she continued, laughter in her voice, "No such future for you. There is no way I'm going to sacrifice that wonderful feeling of you inside me, pulsing and squirming because I edged you until you're about to lose your mind. Some things are just too good to deny myself."

Alena removed her heel from my mouth.

"Other foot," she announced and presented a second set of toes for me to suck.

In the end, it didn't matter how good my foot skills were, because she was always going to enforce her new rule. When her show ended, she got up and led me down the hallway. My spirits rose as we approached our bedroom, but were dashed when she turned to the opposite door and went into the guest bedroom.

"This is your room now," Alena announced, "And I will summon you when I need attention. I can just call out across the hall, see?"

I didn't follow her, coming to a halt naked and dejected at the doorway. Alena's shoulders sagged and she smiled at me sadly.

"Look, this is actually good for you. No more temptation in the middle of the night, no teasing wife getting you hard and then rolling over to go to sleep. It's going to make your life a lot easier."

"I like sleeping with you."

"Then this will make it all the more special when you do. Now, come on, get in."

Alena waited patiently for me, her cute smile wearing me down. She was leaving me with no option. I relented and peeled back the sheets.

"Go on," she prompted.

I got into bed and laid down. She sat on the edge of the bed and tucked me in before bending over to kiss me.

"Goodnight hon, sleep tight."

"Goodnight," I replied.

Alena got up and walked to the door. She turned off the light, but then she looked at me over her shoulder.

"We need to sit down and have a talk soon. You don't have anything on this weekend, do you?"

"No. What are we talking about?"

"Oh, just the progression. You've taken all this so well. I'm so proud of you, the way you bear all this for me. I think we're finally at the stage we can discuss the last step."

Alena closed the door, leaving me on my own in darkness. The strangeness of the conversation, the fact that I had been kicked out of my own bed, the seriousness of her tone when she had brought up the last step, it all compounded in my head, building up to a dreadful milestone we were about to pass.

What did the final stage look like? Here I was, banned from wearing clothes inside my own house, forbidden from sitting down like a normal person would, not allowed to attend nights out with her, and now excluded from Alena's bed. She was marginalising me, shrinking me into the periphery of her life, controlling when and how we had sex, even what I was allowed to call her. I felt less and less like her husband and more like her pet. I had the awful feeling that was where we were heading.

At last, after all the games, I was finally a step ahead of her, but it didn't give me any advantage. It didn't help one little bit.

---

"You seem to have made peace with it now, Quinn," Cassie observed, pausing in her notes.

The tall middle-aged man across the room from her shrugged, taking his phone out of his pocket to check an incoming message. His demeanour had changed markedly since their first session together, and he was now relaxed enough to fend off work messages or wander around their meeting space as he saw fit.

"Yes, I have now. Looking back from the end, it's easy to see Alena's plan, the meticulous planning and all the steps laid bare. But not while I was in it. That was her key advantage, that she knew where we were going to end up and that she had forbidden me from having a say in it, deciding what was best for us all on her own."

"A long way from the list."

"Ah, yes," Quinn laughed, "That damn list. No, we'd consigned that to history. All my careful selections and my planning were totally a waste of time in the end, once Alena decided what she wanted from our marriage."

"So, it was down to her to shape your marriage?"

Quinn shot her a look, surprised. "Huh?" he said.

"You said that once she had decided...."

"Ah, no," Quinn interrupted, "Sorry, you missed the point there, the one vital detail. Let me be clear. She had finally decided what she wanted to get out of being married to me. She'd found the same thing as me, that neither of us wanted to go back to how we were. She'd come to terms with me, the, uh, how do I put this, the real me. I had forced her to answer a question of herself at least as serious as if I had walked out and had an affair, or any one of those marriage-ending scenarios that people find themselves in. I knew I wanted this life, I wanted her, and she made the decision to embrace her new role and stay married to me. It was like starting over. It was as pivotal as that."

---

We drove out to a pet store the next Saturday, her in a light summer dress, carefree and happy, her husband beside her wearing a steel cock cage under my jeans. It no longer felt so unusual now to be confined, walking around the shops or even at work. Alena had normalised this little torment for me to such an extent that if she got the cage out, I simply accepted her desire to imprison me until she saw fit to grant me a release.

Today, though, I was struggling. More than not having been able to even touch myself in days, Alena had already made me satisfy her, licking her to a blissful orgasm on my knees in the shower. She'd then made me dress her, ensuring that I knew exactly how enticing her body was beneath the summer dress. Aside from the boost to her mood from her shower climax, it seemed these days that the more she tortured and teased me, the more cheerful she became, and the more her thoughts seemed to fixate solely on what her body could do for me.

Standing in front of the store, she smiled at me breezily; as usual I was not privy to the whys and wherefores of any of this. Even in the store, I was clueless. I began to wonder if maybe Alena actually wanted us to get a pet. I followed her to the back of the store, to an aisle containing larger items, and my curiosity was abruptly answered.

Alena came to a halt in front of the pet transportation crates. She looked from me to the one she was standing in front of and then back to me again.

"No way," I protested.

"Oh Quinn, don't be so dramatic."

"What the hell is there to not be dramatic about? We don't have a dog. Why else are we standing here?"

"Oh, honey, that's obvious isn't it?" Alena pouted, wrinkling her pretty nose so sexily that I felt myself squirm inside.

There was only one reason my wife was being that cute, overdoing it. She was about to be awful to me.

"Well," she said, "Get in. See what it's like for size."

I shook my head, trying to keep my voice from rising and attracting unwanted attention. "I'm not getting into a dog crate," I hissed.

Alena folded her arms, giving me an appraising look.

"You are. You know you are. Do we have to go through this every time I introduce something new? How about we just leave out the part where you sulk and refuse, and skip straight to the part where you just do whatever I say?"

She stared me down.

"Or do you want to wait until there are other people in this aisle and I make you get in with an audience?"

Then, she grinned, a sly Cheshire cat smile. She knew she had me where she wanted me. I glanced quickly up and down the aisle to make sure it was clear and then bent down to climb into the crate.

"Feet first. Hurry up."

I turned around as instructed and crawled backwards into the crate. I had to wriggle my shoulders through the opening and I scraped the back of my head, but I managed to shuffle backwards until I was completely inside. Before I could stop her, Alena closed the door on me, caging me in the crate. She crouched down to look at me through the metal bars.

"How's it feel, hon?"

"Cramped," I replied, hoping that would put paid to this ridiculous notion.

"Net size up then? What do you reckon? I think they go all the way up to Great Dane."

"No," I conceded, "There's room. It's just not very comfortable kneeling like this."

"Can you roll over and lay on your back?"

"I guess."

"Good. Hop out and we'll go and pick you a cushion to go in the bottom."

Alena opened the door again and I scrambled quickly out of the crate.

"After all," she continued, "I want you to be comfortable in there."

Before I could ask her to elaborate, Alena turned and walked off, heading to the next aisle.

"Can you carry that, or do you need a trolley?" she called out over her shoulder.

With a feeling of foreboding at what this meant for my life, I was left to lug this newest addition to our home all the way to the checkouts.

Alena met me there with a mat in dog-paw print, plopping it down on top of the crate while an assistant ran our purchases through.

"I also found leads and collars," Alena announced breezily, relishing the look of dread on my face, "But left them. We can always come back."

I paid and we hauled the crate and the cushion out to our car. Alena hurried ahead to open up the back for me and I deposited the crate with a thud, breathing heavily.

"It's big," I gasped.

"You're big," Alena replied, then held out her hand. "Car keys?"

I stared at her hand. Surely not?

"Come on Quinn, like I said in the store, sooner you start the sooner we're done."

I looked around us. There was a couple loading their car a few metres away.

"Right now?" I hissed, "There are people about. You want me to get in?"

"Seriously?" Alena shot back, annoyed with me for objecting when I should have been the one who was furious at her plan to humiliate me in a car park.

We glared at each other, neither willing to give in, and then very slowly, she began to smile.

"You're actually enjoying this," I accused her.

"So very much," she replied, grinning now, "I can't wait to see your little sad face poking out from behind those bars. I'm already getting hot and bothered just imagining it."

"You think you can do whatever you want to me, don't you?" I growled, "But putting your husband in a cage is a step too far, even for you."

Alena grinned at me, her cheeks dimpling, her eyes dancing with mirth.

"What's so goddamn funny?" I hissed.

"Oh, hon, two things. Ready?"

She held up her fingers, counting them off.

"First, you're already caged. You let me lock you up without a hint of complaint, so you're used to me confining you. Second, you already bought the pet crate and lugged it out here. You know," she scrunched up her nose in glee, "You absolutely know that you've already gone along with the decision, and that all this is just a token effort so you can feel like you stood up for yourself."

She put her hands on her hips and cocked her head to the side, her pretty face beaming.

"Pleased with yourself?" I asked.

"Very."

I opened the gate and stuffed the cushion in.

"Good fit", I conceded begrudgingly.

"Machine washable too, for little spillages."

What on earth did that mean? Did I want to find out? I began to climb into the back of the car to reverse into the crate.

"Focus, Quinn," Alena snapped, suddenly serious.

"I am," I shot back, glaring at her.

I was uncomfortable enough already with being put into a travel crate like a pet, I didn't need Alena to snap at me.

"You're not. What are you doing wrong?"

I froze. Surely not? I shook my head. Alena just nodded in response, staring me down.

"Oh please, no."

"Why did you think I'd let you get away with that? Do pets wear clothes when they go into these crates?"

"I'm not a pet, Alena," I hissed, "I'm your husband."

Alena straightened and I realised it was the wrong thing to say. I had forced her hand and now she had to follow through.

"No, you're not. Haven't you figured it out yet? You eat on the floor, you sit on a cushion, you aren't allowed on my bed. You're my pet. Now stop whining, be a good boy and get into your crate."

Her face was set: all the previous banter had evaporated. All I was doing by refusing to accept my place was making her annoyed. She glared at me, daring me to continue. I wanted to call her bluff, but she wasn't bluffing. This was what she wanted me to be. I dropped my eyes, burning with shame, and pulled my t-shirt over my head.

"Finally."

I unbuttoned my jeans, stripping myself, kicking off my shoes. I took one more look at my wife's pretty, unforgiving face and backed myself into the crate. As soon as I had ducked my head inside, Alena closed the gate on me and slid the latch across. She closed the back door, leaving me staring out through the bars of my crate at the at the car door. I couldn't see out, I had no idea where Alena was taking us, all I knew is that the engine started, and we began to move.

After a few turns I felt the car picking up speed.

"All good in the back?" Alena called out.

I hunkered down on my hands and knees on the cushion, refusing childishly to give my wife the satisfaction of an answer.

"If you ever want to be let out, I suggest you answer me," Alena called, annoyance in her voice.

I was just being a pain now, as far as she was concerned. Alena hadn't once thought to ask if I was struggling with any of this, having my liberty taken away by stuffing me into a travel crate like a dog, or how it would make me feel to be compared to a domestic animal, kept around the house for its owner's amusement. How had she reduced me to this? And in answer, I found myself becoming erect, deepening my humiliation at my wife's indifferent treatment of me. I was just a desperate, sex-starved pet in a cage, waiting for its owner to decide what to do with it. The birthday card came to mind, the picture of the dog without its testicles. 'Know how that feels' Alena had written: those words seemed ominous now.

"I'm fine," I croaked.

I wasn't, but what was the point in arguing anymore? Alena wouldn't change what she was doing to me. Like it or not, we were going to stick to her plan.

We drove for about fifteen minutes, Alena listening to eighties songs on the radio while I hunkered in my crate in the back. She sounded like she was having the time of her life. I could imagine how she looked, a little sexy smile as she drove the car, her auburn hair tied back in a loose ponytail, blue eyes shining. I would have loved to be sitting next to her, admiring her pretty face as she sang along to the music, just watching the fascinating play of emotions as we drove. It made me feel even more miserable and forgotten in my crate, thinking about just how irresistibly cute she would be looking right now, sitting in the driver's seat.