Alena's Game Ch. 01

"Ready?" she asked.

Alena nodded, and I rounded on my wife, blindsided. I had expected my wife to perhaps curl her fingers around my rigid shaft, or to at least run her nails over my taut, sensitive skin, but now, suddenly, my neglected manhood was on display to a stranger. I looked from my wife to the newcomer, sensing something unspoken between the two women.

"Go with the nice lady, Quinn."

My stomach flipped. Once again, my beautiful, cruel wife had planned something that was not what I had hoped for. In my desperation, I made a mistake.

"Alena, hold on. I thought we were here to have a nice night. Us, together. What's this?"

Alena stiffened and I instantly regretted my choice of words. I wanted to make my wife understand that whatever this was, I didn't want to do it. I didn't want to play any games, I just wanted what she had promised me, not further torture. But Alena's expression hardened, her lovely blue eyes boring into me now, challenging me to step further out of line.

"Mistress Alena...," I corrected myself, but it was already too late.

"Yes, I'm going to be enjoying a nice night out," she responded icily, "But you're going to be rather busy. Now, are you going to follow the nice lady, worm, with the bonus of walking behind her with your coat still on? Or do I need to make you crawl behind her, naked, on your hands and knees in front of all these people?"

I wanted to protest, to tell her it was a bluff, that she wouldn't dare humiliate the husband she said she loved like that. But as the seconds passed, looking at her cold expression, I couldn't be sure. Maybe this was the final test, and not a test for me but a test for her. Perhaps we were here for her to prove to herself that she was ready and able to subject her husband to the devastating shame of public humiliation for no greater reason than she was curious to see me obey.

Burning with shame, still wanting to argue the point, desperate for this to be another cruel trick of my wife's doing, like pausing before she unlocked me, I got up from my seat. She responded by cocking an eyebrow questioningly, and I realised that whatever she had planned for me, she wasn't about to call it off and show me any mercy. The woman I loved so deeply didn't care at all about my feelings: she expected nothing less than complete obedience.

Beaten, I turned to follow Madame Syn through the crowd, my hands in the pockets of my coat to shield my erection from view. For some reason, the cruelty of my wife and the uncertainty of my future had done nothing to temper my hard-on. If anything, the humiliating treatment had aroused me even further. My cock felt like steel beneath my coat.

Madame Syn was wearing a midnight blue blouse and a mercilessly short skirt, revealing long, toned legs sheathed in fine stockings. She wore black leather high heels, balancing on them in a way that made her behind roll delectably as she walked, pulling me along in her wake like I was hypnotised. She reached the door next to the bar and opened it.

"Come through," she said, and I followed.

Closing the door behind her, she turned to address me.

"So, Mistress Alena has earned herself a night off from the tedium of instructing her worm. She has decided to turn you over to me to use as club property for the night, which is very generous of her."

My eyes bulged. I couldn't believe that my wife would do that.

"You have a question."

"Yes. I...."

"Stop."

I was immediately silent. I didn't want to provoke her.

"I was merely observing that you have a question. I didn't give you permission to ask it. I didn't even give you permission to speak."

I pursed my lips, pleading with my eyes to be allowed to speak. I didn't know what trouble I was in, but just that I didn't want to get any further into trouble with this formidable woman.

"A question you were possibly thinking is, what did I mean by club property?"

I nodded, but she had already turned away and I was disregarded. She walked over to a cube sitting on the floor at the foot of a set of stairs that led up to the next floor. It was covered by a dust cloth. I watched in horror as Madame Syn pulled at the cloth to reveal what was underneath.

"Strip."

I didn't respond immediately, my eyes fixed on the object she had revealed: a cage with shiny steel bars, big enough to hold a man. The top of the cage was a padded leather seat with a small hole set into the middle. Madame Syn flicked a latch and lifted the seat upwards to allow entry. She gave me a meaningful look, waiting.

My hands were curled into fists in the warm fabric of my coat, unmoving, seeming to be no longer under my control. With a supreme effort I began to unfasten the remaining buttons on my coat. I looked down at my hands as they undressed me and allowed the coat to tumble from my shoulders. I really didn't want to do this. I really wanted the door to open now and my beautiful wife to come through, laughing and smiling at her cruel little joke, taking my hand in hers and leading me out of the club, back to home, into bed where we would make passionate love, laughing together at the ruse she had constructed to tease me.

But as the seconds passed, I began to realise that wasn't going to happen. Alena wasn't going to come and rescue me from this predicament. Worse than that, she would be at the booth now, drink in hand, maybe chatting to people, knowing all the while that her poor husband was about to be forced to be locked inside a steel cage by a merciless, sleek dominatrix. All of this had been arranged by my wife, for her pleasure, so she could enjoy my torment. Far from being the happy culmination of weeks of tease and denial, she had planned to take everything to the next level. I hadn't even been informed; my opinion now counted for so little with the woman I loved.

"Get in."

I looked from the severe expression of the woman holding the top open, to the cage itself, then to my naked body and my swollen erection, hesitating.

"Now."

My mouth was bone dry. I swallowed reflexively. This was too far.

"Please," I begged, knowing that I was breaking the rules, "I need to talk to my wife."

"Why? Your wife is fully aware of what I'm going to do to you. She laid it all out herself, in meticulous detail. She's the one who planned all this. Shall I go and inform her of your refusal?"

Of course my wife knew what this woman was going to do to me; she'd come up with the plan, she must have set this up days ago, maybe weeks. The realisation hit me that Alena must have planned all this first, before starting the last round of denial. Each day she'd been teasing and torturing me, she'd known that she would eventually do this to me. Here I was, expecting release, orgasm, a nice night out with my loving wife as a reward for following all her rules. Instead, she was using this opportunity to make me more and more her obedient toy.

Madame Syn didn't move.

"It's a very busy night and I don't have a lot of time to waste, worm. I'm going to count to three and then I'll inform your Mistress of your failure. I believe she has a rather depraved contingency plan. I would be fascinated to find out what it is."

She took a breath, and said, "One."

I moved, crossing the little space quickly to stand next to the steel cage. Looking down, I could see that the floor was padded with foam and that there were a set of straps hanging from the bars. It looked awful and my fevered imagination began to visualise myself inside, bound in place, helpless. I knew what the hole in the top would be used for, therefore what I would be used for. Once I was inside the cage and properly secured, I would have no choice but to go along with whatever my wife had planned for me. I would be utterly powerless to prevent her humiliating me in front of a roomful of strangers.

"Two."

The word sounded like a whipcrack, and I flinched. I looked back to Madame Syn but saw nothing in her demeanour to suggest that she would relent. All I had to do was stand here, wait for her to count to three, and close the top. This would all be over, I wouldn't be in the cage, I wouldn't be put on display. Alena would punish me, of course, but I could have a conversation with her about it, get her to see my side. Despite what she'd done to me, what she'd turned me into after all this time, there was still a part of her that was my wife, that loved me. This was too far.

"Mistress Alena has gone to a considerable amount of effort to do this for you. Imagine her disappointment when she finds out it's all been in vain."

For me? How was being locked up naked in a cage something she was doing for me, like it was some prize I had won? Like it was my reward for the weeks of denial. How on earth was this a good thing? What was my wife planning? Could I trust her?

"Three."

I stepped quickly into the cage before Madame Syn could lower the top. I knelt down in the small space, feeling exposed in the confines of the steel bars. There was just enough space for my body without having my knees or my buttocks pressed up against the cold metal. Madame Syn walked behind me, and I heard a chink of metal on metal, then cool hands encircling my ankle. I felt the soft leather strap tighten against my skin, and then the process was repeated with my other ankle. That was it: I was now unable to stand, to escape. I had reached the point of no return. Whatever happened to me now, only my beautiful wife could stop what was about to happen.

Madame Syn stepped back around the front. Silently, she took one of my wrists and secured it with a strap in front of me, binding me tightly. She slid a strap around my other wrist. I tugged at my restraints, but she had secured me properly.

"No," she said, and her voice was soft now, "It's no use struggling. Open up."

From her pocket, she produced a strip of leather attached to a large ring. Carefully, gently, almost as if not to scare me, her fingers pushed on my chin until my mouth was wide open. Madame Syn slipped the ring in, behind my teeth, and tied the strap behind my head. I moved my lips and my tongue, feeling the intrusion of cold steel holding my mouth open in a permanent 'O' of surprise.

"This was a creative innovation," Madame Syn mused, "You are very fortunate to have such a resourceful wife."

Madame Syn detached the leather padding from the top of the cage, revealing a lattice of flat steel strips beneath. I frowned as she produced a length of string from her pocket that could have been a bootlace. She threaded one end beneath the strap on my cheek and then closed the top of the cage. I saw what she meant to do and I tried to squirm, but she held the string tight so I couldn't move my head. She tied the other end around one of the steel slats, leaving me just enough slack to be able to move my head from side to side, but not enough to look down. I was now very meticulously bound in the position that my wife wanted me in. The last thing I saw was Madame Syn's smile as she lowered the leather padding back down over the top, trapping me inside. I heard the click of the latches.

"Just about ready to be put to use."

I wanted to protest, but all I could do was make gurgling noises with the steel ring holding my mouth open. I couldn't move, I couldn't even speak. She gave the cage a push and I began to move. I realised that I was on wheels and moving towards the door.

All I could do was close my eyes. The woman who had caged me had said I was club property, to be used. I envisaged what I would look like from Alena's point of view as she watched the cage being rolled across the room to her, her husband neatly packaged as per her specifications. All eyes would be on me. It was so cruel, so humiliating: everyone would know my dark little secret, that I was completely under my wife's control. My manhood throbbed, harder than I had ever felt myself, confusing me further. My mind was screaming to stop, but my body was desperate for whatever humiliation my wife was about to vest on me in the crowded room on the other side of the door.

The cage stopped and to my surprise, I heard the rustle of fabric and it started to become darker. After a few seconds, I was rolling again but now there was a curtain around the outside of the cage, shielding me from view. My entire body ached with gratitude at this tiniest of mercies. I heard the door open and the wash of noise from the club, and I was rolling forward again.

I could imagine how I looked, a cube with a hole in the top being pushed towards one of the booths. I heard voices and I knew that I was the centre of attention. Even hidden behind the curtain, I felt the degradation of having been turned into an object for someone else's pleasure, but my hard-on was still rigid between my legs. The cage stopped rolling.

"As requested," I heard a woman's voice say.

There was silence, and I strained to hear a response.

"Thank you," came another voice at last: my wife's.

I heard something, maybe the brushing of a hand over the leather padding.

"And he went in okay? No problems?"

I waited with trepidation. My behaviour had been punishable.

"There were problems, yes."

My heart sank.

"He was extremely reluctant to be secured in the cage," the woman's voice continued, "We had a moment when I genuinely thought he would stand up for himself. But, as you can see, he gave in."

There was a rustle of material and it became lighter.

"Yes, there he is," my wife replied, and I knew she could see how I had been tied and restricted as per her requirements.

I felt a touch on the tip of my cock and I jumped in shock, banging my knees against the steel bars painfully.

"He's very, uh, sensitive."

"Yes," the other voice replied, "You'll find that they take a while to adjust once they first go into the cage. His mind is just full of white noise at this point."

I heard my wife laugh at that comment, and say, "I'm stunned that he went through with it. I can't believe my husband allowed me to do this to him."

There was a pause again, and then the other voice said, "Do you still want this? Or is it too much?"

"Let's try it," my wife replied, "If it's just white noise in his head now, imagine what it's going to be like after this."

I felt a hand wrap around the stiffness of my shaft and this time I didn't twist and buck. My mind was reeling, trying to work out what it was they were discussion, what my wife was going to do to me beyond having me bound and helpless in a cage in the middle of the club. I was afraid, but the feeling of her fingers around my cock, the tender human contact, was strangely reassuring. She gripped me tighter and I throbbed in anticipation of those fingers beginning to move up and down my rigid shaft. I had been teased so mercilessly over the past two weeks, denied the pleasure of her gorgeous body, prevented even access to my own body. It would only take a few brief strokes to push me over the edge into my long-denied orgasm.

Instead, I felt an unwelcome pressure on my tip, but rather than thrash around, I held my body absolutely still, feeling discomfort at my opening, and then weirdly, actually inside the head of my cock. Alena's hand remained firmly in place as the feeling of intrusion migrated further down inside my shaft. I didn't know what Alena was doing, but I was sure that I had to remain perfectly still to avoid severe pain. My body began to shake.

I felt a strange pressure between my balls, but the sensation wasn't on my skin, it was buried deep inside me. Alena's hand released me, leaving my cock bobbing in the air. I could feel what she'd done to me: she had threaded a rigid rod down the centre of my cock. I made gurgling sounds of protest, trying to get her attention, but was met with the firm pressure of a finger on my exposed tongue.

"Ssh. Property doesn't speak," my wife said.

Suddenly, the cover was lifted off the top and I was staring up into the lights on the ceiling of the club. To either side, I could see a female form bending over me. I squinted, trying to adjust my eyes, and made out my wife's face above me, a strange, soft expression on her face. She reached down and pressed her finger onto my tongue again.

"What a predicament, Quinn. It's so surreal, seeing my brave, strong husband locked up tightly in a little cage. You have no idea how much this is turning me on, and we haven't even started."

She grinned at me, and I began to quake. She pressed her finger to my tongue again.

"Are you nervous?"

I gurgled in response, hoping she would understand it was a 'yes'.

"Good. This is going to be mind-blowing, Quinn. I'm going to make you serve me."

Out of the corner of my eye I saw her affix something to one of the metal slats above my head. I couldn't see what it was, but there was a wire trailing off to the side. I suddenly had deep misgivings about what my wife was going to do to me. I began to shake my head, but Alena didn't seem to care. She reached down and replaced the padded leather cover, hiding me from view. The last sight I had was of my wife's face, formed into a little mock pout of sadness.

I waited. I strained against my bonds, but Madame Syn had done too thorough a job: I couldn't move. My cock bobbed as I struggled and I could feel the rod inside me, but there was something else, a wisp of contact on the sensitive outside of my skin. I froze in horror: a wire. My wife had wired me up for some sadistic purpose. Despite this, for some reason quite beyond me, my erection showed no signs of abating.

There was a sound above me and words being spoken above the general hum of the crowd noise, but I couldn't make out what they were saying. All I could tell was that the voices were female, and one was probably my wife.

Without warning, the cage creaked, and I realised that someone was sitting on it. A strange yet familiar scent filled my nostrils and where my lips had felt the coolness of fresh air, there was now body heat. So, this was what I was to be reduced to, this was my wife's shameful plan. We were never going to have a nice night out, I was never going to get my reward. No, my wife had always intended to starve me of orgasms for weeks and then have me turned into a sex appliance. How could I have been so stupid? I was smarter than this, surely? No, I realised; my wife had outsmarted me completely, dangling the distracting carrot and stick of tease and denial while all the time planning this ultimate humiliation. She was making sure I understood: she owned me and I would do anything she wanted, be anything she wanted, her toy.

A bolt of pain exploded in my scrotum, searing up my shaft to my tip. My body writhed against the steel bars and I howled, but it emerged from my open mouth as more of a strangled cry. What the fuck? What had she done to me? My cock jolted again: a second shock, lower this time, painful but manageable. My addled brain was reeling, trying to understand what was happening to me.

I heard the body above me shift and I realised what I needed to do. The device on the steel slat was a switch: the person's weight had closed the circuit, activating the metal sound that Alena had pushed deep inside my erection. My wife had left me with no choice. The only way to stop the electric jolts was to get the person off the cage, and there was only one way for me to persuade them.

I stuck out my tongue, coming into contact with warm, quivering flesh. I explored with my tongue tip, tasting the tang of... wait. This wasn't right. My mind flashed back to the conversation in the booth, back when I was still able to move and talk and have opinions, Alena's question about comparing her pussy: whoever was sitting on me was not my wife.

The device shocked me again, and I steeled myself against the discomfort, craning my neck until my lips made contact with the moist, unfamiliar flesh. I worked out her orientation, where her clit would be, where I could enter her with my tongue, and I set about my task with a sense of urgency, stopping every few seconds as the damnable device sent another shock through my groin. I writhed in pain but kept up my motions inside the pussy of the mystery woman above me.