Alena's Game Ch. 12

At the door, she paused.

"It would be fascinating though, wouldn't it?" she mused, watching my expression.

"What would?"

"To lock you up for a year, just to see what would happen to you, whether you'd shrivel up into nothing."

My eyes went wide. I gaped at her. She cocked her head to one side, casting a glance down at my crotch.

"Of course, you would have to volunteer to go that long without an orgasm."

She flashed me a coy little smile.

"You would though. I'd be able to persuade you. I think I could make you beg for the opportunity."

---

We made it to the restaurant on time. She'd booked the expensive one, overlooking the lake. I drove, rather than us taking a cab, which meant something significant. I clearly would not be drinking tonight; whatever my wife had planned, she wanted me stone cold sober.

The pretty waitress led us to a table overlooking the lake, but as I followed behind her I kept my eyes front and centre, avoiding a glance at the way her bottom moved in her little black skirt. I could feel Alena watching me, testing my reaction. I was determined not to give my creative wife any ammunition, but as I sat down in my chair I could feel a strange sensation against my skin between my legs and over my buttocks. Maybe she already had enough of a hold over me that taking in the enticing sight of the waitress in her little black dress would be a drop in the ocean.

It was sunset and the view was spectacular, the waves on the water polished to a burnished bronze in the last rays of the sun.

"It's beautiful," I murmured.

"I thought you'd like it. I had to cajole them to make sure we got a table by the window. I said it was a special event."

"Is it a special event?" I asked apprehensively.

Alena flashed me a warm, reassuring smile and squeezed my hand across the crisp white tablecloth.

"Of course," she replied, "It's a belated birthday dinner for the husband I love because last weekend we were too preoccupied with other things to celebrate properly."

"So, you're making it up to me with dinner?" I asked, tentatively.

"Why are you so worried, Quinn? Don't you trust me?"

I studied her expression. She was smiling sexily at me, her blue eyes shining, and I began to allow myself to relax, reassured by my wife's pretty face. Maybe she was just going to be nice to me, and the talk of role playing a normal husband and wife out to dinner was just an attempt to tease me.

"Should I be worried, Alena?"

My wife laughed, as if my concerns were comical, and I began to feel a little silly for doubting her. She leaned back and looked at me, her hands in her lap under the table.

"What does this look like to you?" she asked, "Other than your loving wife taking you out for a nice belated meal to celebrate your birthday? And then maybe having some fun tonight? Don't you want that?"

I smiled back at her, allowing myself to feel some relief. "Very much," I replied, "More than you can imagine."

Alena's eyes softened, but before she could speak, the waitress returned to take our drinks orders. I desperately wanted to hear what she had been about to say and cursed the pretty waitress for interrupting just at the critical moment.

"Champagne for me please," she told the waitress, "The French. Oh, and sparkling water for my husband."

Alena flashed the waitress a dazzling smile. The waitress nodded and left, and Alena's attention turned back to me. I would have liked champagne too, but it was clear that Alena was the one who was celebrating. I kept my mouth shut, waiting for her to resume her train of thought.

"Where were we, Quinn? Ah, fun. Yes."

I sat there while my wife appraised me.

"Tell me something, Quinn, and I want the truth. Are you having fun?"

I raised my eyebrows, unsure of how to answer.

"The truth. It's important and I want your honest answer. I promise, no tricks. This isn't a test."

"So, I can say what I really think?"

"Yes, I want you to feel you can speak freely," she said, "I'm giving you permission to tell me what's on your mind."

She became serious, almost concerned, waiting for me to speak. At that moment, the waitress returned with our drinks and Alena frowned briefly at the interruption. I could see how much this meant to her. I wet my mouth with my water, feeling the weight of my wife's expectations.

"Fun isn't quite the right word, Alena," I began, "It's probably better to ask if I'm amenable to the experience."

Alena took a sip of her champagne, her bright blue eyes studying me carefully as I spoke.

"It's such a massive change to how we used to be. I'm still trying to come to terms with it. I'm not saying it isn't a positive change overall, but there are things we need to talk about. What do you think?"

Alena put her champagne down carefully and for a moment, she looked careworn. Then, her face brightened.

"I'm coming to terms with it too, Quinn. Both with you and the changes you're going through, and also the changes in me too."

Alena paused then and looked out across the lake, watching the play of light on the waves, lost in thought.

"I'm sorry about the night at the club, Quinn."

The admission startled me. I sat in silence, watching her face as she spoke. She didn't make eye contact.

"I talked it through, and the feedback was pretty honest."

"Who did you talk it through with?"

"Doesn't matter, just on the forums. Relax," she said, reaching out to hold my hand, "I didn't mention names."

"What did they say?"

Alena smiled faintly. "Roles and responsibilities," she replied, "Fair to say, I got lectured."

She withdrew her hand again, turning back to the lake.

"I thought I was doing it right, but really, I had no idea. We have no idea. I need to be better than that. I didn't check up with you after it, I just got caught in the moment."

Alena's words faded to silence, and I cleared my throat.

"You left me," I told her, "After what you did. Eve was the only person to ask if I was okay."

She met my eyes suddenly, and I could see the same look on her face as I'd seen the morning after, when I'd tried to discuss it. I realised what it was now, the reason for her abruptness with me: she had been ashamed. That morning, she had become defensive and had terminated the discussion, but now she was different. I had things that I needed to say.

"If you ever do that to me again, I'm out," I told her.

Alena looked shocked, then after a moment she nodded.

"It won't happen again," she replied, "Like I said, Quinn, I'm sorry. I'm still learning."

She entwined her fingers in mine, and her gaze drifted back to the lake. Watching her, I began to get a feeling for how much this change to our relationship was also changing her. From me being the breadwinner, the head of the household, it was now on Alena's shoulders to take the lead in our relationship. Giving her control lifted a burden from me, but had placed one on her.

"There's still a long way we can go," she said at last, still looking out over the water, "There are choices we need to make. Firstly, we can decide that this was a learning experience and that we go back to how we were. I give you your rights back, you get to enjoy all those little things that I took away. We balance up our relationship again and be like we were before."

Alena cupped her chin in her hand.

"Or," she mused, "We carry on like this, but slip in and out of our roles. Sometimes I'm your wife, sometimes I'm your, uh, I don't know...." She flashed me a look to judge my reaction, "Your owner? Your mistress? Would you like that? We play sometimes, then we're just a normal husband and wife the other times, we go to work, we come home, we go out, and then in the bedroom I take control."

I didn't interrupt her; I wanted to see where her thoughts were leading her.

"Or, the last option. We make this a full-time arrangement. Twenty-four by seven."

She fell silent, watching me, waiting for me to speak.

"How would that work?" I rasped, my throat suddenly dry.

"You know the answer already, Quinn. I can see it in your eyes. You've already been thinking about it," Alena answered, "And so have I."

Alena folded her arms on the table, cocking her head to the side as she read my expression.

"I could ask you if it's what you really want and you would dither and misdirect, but it's not because you don't know. That moment just now, when I said it, I saw that look. You don't want to say it because you don't want to admit to wanting it, do you?"

She gave me a little, hopeful smile, "It's okay to tell me, Quinn. That's what I wanted to say to you. I've been soul searching, and I realise that I want it too."

My eyes widened in surprise and her smile transformed into a sly grin.

"I read up on the lifestyle and to be honest, I was put off by the sheer effort of maintaining it twenty-four hours a day, but you've shown me that it's manageable. I don't need to have you on your hands and knees licking my boots all night every night. We can just do this," Alena said, taking in the table and the glasses with a sweep of her hand, "This is enough control. Me deciding what you eat, what you drink, if you're allowed to sit down or not."

Alena leaned forward, eyes shining. "All I need to do is maintain that little gap, me with the rights to do anything I want, and you with your life restricted, reliant on my permission for those little basic things that a husband would normally take for granted from his wife. Do you know what I mean?"

I nodded meekly, feeling my subservience bubbling to the surface. My gaze dropped from my wife's pretty face to the white tablecloth.

"No," Alena scolded. "Eyes up."

I complied instantly.

"Good," she continued, "I don't want you subservient and grovelling, I want to have a proper adult conversation. I need to hear from you still, not the words you expect would please me."

Alena was concerned now, reaching out to take my hands in hers. I felt the warmth of her skin on mine.

"An honest conversation as equals, as husband and wife," she murmured, "Even if it is only for the last time."

I was lost, looking into her eyes, seeing the compassion there. Once again, Alena was way out ahead of me and I was trailing behind. Her words cut deeply, and I knew deep down that she was right.

"I know what you mean," I began, hesitantly, aware of the import of what I was about to tell her. "I'm...."

I faltered, looking down at my hands in hers, then forcing myself to meet her gaze again.

"I want you to have the control. I want to give myself to you. Finally, I have never felt so... free," I confessed.

It was the truth, and as I said it, I could see my wife accept it too. All through my life, I had been playing catch-up against an unknown adversary, pushing myself to better grades, a better job, to outshine my colleagues, to dazzle in the courtroom. That incessant need to be the best, to have everything in order, to be in control, even in my relationship with my wife, it all stemmed from that same dark place deep inside me, the feeling of not ever being good enough. I realised now that I had tortured myself, my entire life. Now, Alena was offering to bear that burden for me, to lift that pressure from my shoulders, so I could have respite. I could still dominate in court, fight hard for my clients, climb the ladder in my law practice, but it didn't have to be twenty-four seven anymore. Alena would supply a reprieve from all that.

That was the crux of it, the discovery I'd made about myself. I wanted what she was offering more than anything. Alena stroked my hands with her fingers, and I could see that my words had brought her relief.

"You mean the whole world to me," she said, "Just always remember that. However cruel or indifferent I may seem, I'm doing all this for us. I love you so much, Quinn."

"I love you too," I replied, feeling a weight lift, "And I trust you."

Alena grew solemn and I gazed at her beautiful face, taking in the way the last rays of the sun burnished her hair, the perfection of her lips, side-lit in the golden light.

"This is it, then," she breathed, "Anything more to say?"

I shook my head slowly. "No."

Alena withdrew her hands from mine and placed then under the table in her lap. I felt a keen longing to feel her skin against mine, experiencing the sudden loss of the warmth of her touch.

"Our last conversation," she intoned, "As husband and wife."

I understood the finality of it, the weight of the decision, and nodded my acceptance.

"I promise I'll still check in with you from time to time, Quinn, and I'll stop if I feel you're sliding down to a place below the level I want to put you. I won't let you get too deep that you can't see a way out. I take that responsibility very seriously, even when I'm pushing you hard."

"Thank you."

Alena sat up straighter, and I felt her mood shift.

"Now," she said, her tone brisk and businesslike, "We need to play our roles. You are the pampered husband being treated by his adoring wife for his birthday. I am the loving wife."

Her mouth curved into a salacious grin that simultaneously lifted my spirits after the gravity of our conversation and stirred the faint prickings of disquiet in my stomach. Before I could clarify, the waitress reappeared to take our dinner order.

"I'll have the duck," she said, smiling sweetly at me, acknowledging that it was my favourite, "My husband with have the mushroom risotto."

I didn't get a choice. I didn't even particularly like risotto, but Alena knew this. I no longer had any say in my birthday dinner, or anything else in my life.

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[Next chapter: A birthday dinner enjoyed, and a birthday present revealed: a toy and a remote control, though some assembly is required. What is Alena planning for him?

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