The Undertow Ch. 02

The Undertow Chapter 2: A Simple Game

By Trixie Adara

Antonio

Antonio came home as soon as possible the next day. He didn't dawdle talking to his coworkers. He didn't flirt with the new clerk. He yelled at every red light and stared at the clock on his dashboard. He needed to cook dinner, and he didn't know what the consequences would be for tardiness, but they wouldn't be good.

The entire day was an erotic torture session. Every few minutes, his mind would wander to the day before. He searched 'ruined orgasm' twice an hour, when he was sure no one else could see what was on his screen and deleted his browser and search history after each time. It was exactly as described: a painful way to release pressure but not the desire to orgasm. Antonio was still where he was twenty three hours ago: out of his mind with lust.

As he climbed the steps of his porch, he half expected to find another rule on the door, but there was nothing. Still the two rules: kiss his wife when he comes home and make dinner. He could handle that, no big deal.

He opened the door and expected to find the sounds of violins filling the house. Some part of him, probably foolish, even thought that maybe he'd smell his wife's cooking. Maybe this new game would only last a day. Maybe it was a dream. Maybe Victoria would go right back to things as usual. The thought of it disappointed him.

He found Victoria in the living room, curled up in a baggy sweater and sweatpants, reading a book. Her hair was in a bit of disarray. She wore no makeup. It was almost enough to make Antonio forget Rule 1. Almost.

As he approached, she lifted her head and managed a smile. He bent down and kissed her on the mouth. It was soft at first, but his lust and hunger burned inside of him as he pressed into a more passionate kiss.

Victoria pressed on his chest, pushing him away. "Not so fast, love," she whispered.

"You alright?" he asked.

"I guess Aunt Flow decided to visit a little earlier than usual. I'm not feeling particularly sexy this evening."

"Oh," said Antonio. "Well, alright." He looked away from her, trying not to reveal the disappointment on his face. "Do you want to order out? Get some comfort food and watch a movie?"

"You won't get out of dinner that easy," she said. Antonio turned in time to see her smile. That damn smile. Even in sweats, she still had that damn smile. "Get in there and make me some food."

Antonio felt the blood flow to his cock. He nodded and obeyed immediately. "Do you want some music?" he asked as he went into the kitchen.

"No thanks. I've got a slight headache."

"Wine?" he suggested.

"Water would be better."

Antonio grabbed a glass and filled it with water. He brought it to her, but as she reached out to grab it, she stopped herself.

"Ice and lemon," she said.

Antonio rolled his eyes.

"That's one," she added, her tone firm this time. "Don't do it again."

Antonio's cock twitched again. "Yes, ma'am," he added and went into the kitchen to fix her water.

She smiled when he handed it to her, and with her other hand, she lightly stroked his crotch through his pants. "Good boy," she said.

Antonio was hard now. His mind tried to focus on dinner, but his libido was back in the bedroom last night, still desperate to cum, still desperate to please.

In the kitchen, Antonio encountered a new problem: there was no food. There was nothing in the pantry. Nothing in the fridge. Nothing left for him on the counter. Nothing at all.

"Hun?" he shouted to the living room.

"Yes?" she shouted back.

"What do you want me to cook? There's no food."

"Recipe is on the counter."

Antonio checked, and sure enough, on the counter was a recipe for Penne and Vodka Sauce. Next to it was a note: "We're going to do pasta until you learn to get it right." Antonio smiled. His mind relaxed, entering a different place than he expected. He felt like he should be frustrated. He should be embarrassed or angry. Instead, he was eager. He wanted to get it right. Not for him, but for her.

Beside the recipe and note was another rule like the day before: pink paper with red lettering. It read: "Rule 3: Always handle the grocery shopping for your wife." He grabbed the rule and recipe and went back into the living room.

"You want me to go grocery shopping?"

"Is that what the paper says?" she said without looking up from her book.

"I don't know where half the stuff is in the grocery store. It'll take me an hour."

"It better not." She pointed at Antonio's crotch, "Or else someone's going to go to bed frustrated. Again."

Antonio nodded. Once again, he relaxed into it. She made the rules, and this rule was simple. He could grocery shop. How hard could it be?

"Do you want me to get all the groceries or just the ones for dinner?"

"That's a good question," she said. "That's thinking like a good boy. Come here."

Antonio obeyed, and as he approached, Victoria put down her book and sat up straighter. She reached out for Antonio's crotch and stroked his pants absent mindedly through the pants while she spoke.

"Just the groceries for tonight," she said. She wrapped her fingers around Antonio's cock as best she could through the fabric. "Tomorrow, after work, you will get all the groceries, including what I want for dinner tomorrow. I'll send you a list. In time, you'll make the list yourself. Is that understood?"

Antonio nodded.

She gripped his cock in her hand. Hard.

"Is that understood, pet?" she asked again.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good," she said and released her grip. "We're going to play a little game, and there are two rules for it. You ready?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good," she said and began stroking his cock gently again. "It doesn't make sense if you do the shopping, but I do the thinking. It also doesn't make sense if you screw things up and I have to fix them for you. So here are the rules. If you are confused, you may call me with any questions you have; however, for each question you ask, there will be a punishment. Conversely, there will be a more severe punishment for each instance of getting the wrong thing or wasting money. I've already been to the store today and gone over the prices. I've seen the sales available. I will know if you waste my money."

Antonio felt a rush of frustration with her. It wasn't her money. She made half the money he did. It was his money, and he should be allowed to spend it or waste it on whatever he wanted.

"Is that clear?" asked Victoria.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, but the frustration still burnt inside of him.

"Best hurry." Victoria gave him a gentle slap on the ass. "If it's not ready soon, I'll just have to go out to eat."

Antonio nodded and immediately headed for the door, recipe in hand. It seemed simple enough. The recipe only required a few things. He looked over the list while he sat in the car. Some of things he surely wouldn't need to buy. Red pepper flakes? They had that in the house, right? Victoria wasn't clear if he should buy new spices or not.

Antonio opened the car door to go ask her but stopped himself. Would that count as a question? But if he didn't ask, and he bought spices when they didn't need spices, would that be held against him? Panic began to creep over his mind, and with that kept a subtle hint of helplessness. And that helplessness, that feeling of being so pathetic he couldn't figure out grocery shopping, imagining asking Victoria a simple question and the condescending smirk she'd give him, all of it, made Antonio go hard.

He didn't have time to waste, he decided. He would get in the car and figure it out. Her last punishment was a ruined orgasm, and he didn't want another one tonight. He couldn't have another one tonight. And what if it was something worse? Antonio's mind ran over all the porn he watched the previous night, all the images of femdom he tried to look at during work today. What if she had a strap-on and she wanted to ...

The thought made Antonio's mouth go dry. It was a nice thought, a fantasy, but the thought of a dildo ramming up his ass? No. He didn't want that. He didn't want whatever could be worse than a ruined orgasm.

Unfortunately, the parking lot was packed. Antonio learned, and would soon learn each night, that the grocery store is packed right when people get off work. Everyone needs something for dinner, and now Antonio was one of them.

The crowds of people pressing against him did nothing to help calm his anxiety. He had to wait to check the prices for different items. He would spend thirty seconds staring at two things, trying to figure out which one was cheaper, and then someone behind him would sigh loudly because he was blocking there way. Several times, he missed an item because he couldn't see it through people crowded around it. It was a nightmare.

He only called Victoria twice. Once because he had circled the store three times and absolutely could not find the Italian seasoning to save his life. The second was about garlic.

"They have too many types of garlic," Antonio said.

"Too many?"

"Yes."

Victoria chuckled. "How many is too many?"

"I am holding in my hand, I shit you not, seven different types of garlic."

"What are they?"

"I have a tube of garlic paste, minced garlic in a jar, organic giant garlic, nonorganic giant garlic, regular sized garlic in organic and nonorganic variety, and something called tiny garlic."

"And all the options stress you out?" she changed her voice like she was talking to a small child. A pathetic child. Antonio's cock went hard.

"Yes," he admitted.

"How does that make you feel, pet?"

"Pathetic," he whispered.

"It is pathetic." Antonio bent over, his knees getting weak from insult, the compliment. He could almost see her smile, that damn smile, as she couldn't believe how pathetic it was that he couldn't even pick out garlic without her.

"Which do you think I want?" she asked.

"Regular garlic, organic."

"That's right. See? You don't need a strong, sexy woman to tell you what to do. Do you?"

Antonio hesitated to answer the question, and she laughed at him and hung up.

After that, his focus was pure. Nothing else mattered anymore. It didn't matter that there were too many kinds of vodka for him to know which was the right one. All that mattered was her and getting back to her. He needed to cum, and she was the one that gave permission. He didn't dare wonder what would happen if he came without her permission. All he knew was that she could punish him. She would punish him. It could get much worse, and he couldn't handle that. He couldn't even let it enter his mind. Failure was not an option. The only option was to do exactly what she told him to do, exactly the way she wanted it done.

Back at the house, he carefully set out the bags of groceries. She stood over them, unmoving, until he realized that he needed to take them out of the plastic bags and set them out for her inspection.

"Receipt?" she asked and stuck out her hand. He gave it to her and stepped to the side, hoping he passed her test.

She ran her eyes over the receipt. "You didn't buy anything else?" she asked.

"No, ma'am."

"Good. I'd hate to find out you wasted my money on a chocolate bar or some nonsense."

There it was again: my money.

"Next time use the reusable bags. They're in the pantry. Never use plastic bags again. If you forget them, you can carry the groceries by hand. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Antonio hesitated to ask the next question. "Am I in trouble for forgetting that?"

"No. I didn't tell you. It's fine."

Antonio sighed with relief. He watched anxiously as she held up each item and compared it to the receipt.

"Two marks for two phone calls," she said finally, "and three marks for mistakes."

"Mistakes?" asked Antonio.

She held up the butter. "We use unsalted. Not salted." She moved and grabbed the penne noodles. "Wheat, not white." Finally, she lifted the vodka. "For cooking, buy the cheap stuff. Most of it will cook off. We'll barely taste it. This is overpriced for our purposes."

Antonio waited. He didn't want to volunteer any information. He didn't want to help her if he didn't have to.

"Other than that, good job." She looked up and smiled wide. It was genuine, and for a moment, Antonio was transported to years ago, when he and Victoria were first dating, first married, when they were happy.

"Thanks," he said and blushed, suddenly nervous to be around her, eager for her approval like a teenager.

"Now you need to cook it," she said. "And for that, I have a game."

She read off the recipe. "It says cook and prep time is twenty five minutes. That's how long you have to cook it exactly. I'll set a timer for it and everything."

"What happens if it takes longer?"

"You know," she said and smirked. There she was again, superimposed onto Victoria, his bride, was this new Victoria, this flirty and confident and teasing Victoria. He loved both of them. He feared both of them.

"You'll leave and get your own dinner," he suggested.

"Exactly." Victoria took out her phone and set the timer for twenty five minutes. "Now for the marks. Two marks for two phone calls." She tapped her phone twice and reduced the timer to twenty three minutes.

"That's not fair," said Antonio.

Victoria tapped the phone again, taking away another minute.

"What?" snapped Antonio. "You can't just -"

Victoria wordlessly tapped the phone again, and Antonio fell silent, looking at the twenty one minutes he had to make a twenty five minute meal.

"Any other comments?" she asked.

Antonio shook his head, afraid saying anything would result in less time.

"Good," said Victoria. "Now, for the other marks. The harsher punishment if you remember."

Antonio nodded.

Victoria walked out of the room without another word. Antonio stood and waited, listening to her footsteps as she climbed the stairs. He didn't waste the time. With her gone, he read over the recipe repeatedly. He started to strategize timing the sauce with the noodles so that it could all be done in twenty one minutes.

He froze when he heard her coming back. He put the recipe back where it was and stood back in the spot where she left him. She came into the room with a smile on her face and something behind her back.

"I have a new toy for you, and you don't have to use it, I'll understand. But if you don't want to play by my rules, you can go upstairs and jerk off to cheap porn of women in heels stepping on men's balls all the while knowing there is a woman downstairs who can make your pathetic desires real."

Antonio's cock was hard. His mind was simultaneously relaxed and paralyzed. She was offering him a choice, but he didn't want a choice. He wanted her. Whatever she wanted, whatever she suggested, whatever she commanded, he would do.

"What is it?" he managed, though his mouth was dry.

Victoria brought her hand around to show off her new toy to Antonio. It was a small rubber thing, something Antonio didn't recognize. It was bright pink and had a C shape, with a straight line coming out of it, no more than two or three inches.

"What is it?" asked Antonio again.

"A butt plug," said Victoria.

The blood drained from Antonio's face. It wasn't dread, not necessarily, but it was something entirely new. More importantly, this was real. Rules and punishments could be seen as part of any marriage, but this, more than anything else, was the introduction of a new element into their relationship. They never did anything anal. Victoria was against it, and obviously, why would Antonio do anything like that?

Unless, of course, she wanted him to.

"Don't worry," she said, "I did some research. This is a minor one. It's small and thin. It isn't deep. The silicon is comfortable. You have nothing to fear."

"And this is my punishment for getting some things wrong?"

"Well, it's a punishment for now, but who knows? You might like it. Then it could be a reward."

She smiled broadly, Antonio's cock twitched, and his knees softened. Antonio felt his head nodding before the thought could reach his brain. If she wanted it, yes. Whatever she wanted. She should have whatever she wanted.

"But we'll start small today. For now, you earned three marks. That's three minutes of cooking with the butt plug in. Sound fair?"

Antonio nodded.

"And once again, if you take too long, if you screw it up, I'll leave. I'll leave, and more importantly, I won't be touching you tonight. Is that clear?"

Antonio nodded.

Victoria went into the pantry and got out her apron. "Here, pet," she said while she brought it towards him. He bent his head without comment as she put the apron on him, then stepped around him and tied it in the back.

"Ready?" she asked as she stepped in front of him and grabbed his phone.

"Yes," he said.

"Make me dinner, pet," she said and started the timer.

Antonio didn't hesitate. He immediately grabbed the onions and turned around, back to the counter. He grabbed a pot of water and started it on the burner. He double checked the recipe, and added a pinch of salt to the water, unsure if that was the right thing to do. He went back to the onions and began chopping.

He looked over his shoulder and saw the timer. He had time. He was fine. He turned back and continued chopping. He needed to focus. He couldn't get lost focusing on the timer. After the onions, he got those in a pan, cooking. He added butter, then red pepper flakes.

He felt a pinch behind him on his ass. He yelped and jumped.

Behind him was Victoria, smiling devilishly.

"Just enjoying my property," she said and danced back to the counter.

"You seem to be feeling better," muttered Antonio.

"Just enjoying the view," she said. "You know, we should look into getting you your own apron."

"If I'll be doing all the cooking, I could use something more ... masculine."

"I was thinking of a little French maid," said Victoria.

Antonio blushed and tried to get back to work. He needed to focus.

"Besides," said Victoria as she approached again. "I thought the point of all of this was for me to enjoy your body?" She ran her hands over his thigh from behind and then grabbed his cock. "Right?"

"Y-yes, ma'am," said Antonio. His body practically melted. His mind was torn between wanting to turn, wanting to throw himself at her, to pounce and ravage her, and the need to cook, the need to focus. He knew he couldn't cum by being aggressive. She'd shut him down, shut him out. No, the only way to get what he wanted was to submit.

He tried to relax his body into her groping, to let her have her way with his body while he cooked. He blushed with shame and then arousal at his shame. It was cyclical, the embarrassment at being used, the arousal from the embarrassment, the embarrassment from the arousal, the arousal from the embarrassment, and so on.

Luckily, the touching gave him an iron focus. His mind shut everything out that wasn't serving. It finally made the connection that the only way to get what he wanted, to get release, was to serve and make dinner perfectly.

He checked the timer, he had five minutes left. The noodles were almost done, and the sauce was close. He was going to do it. He knew it. He just needed to focus.

"Time for your punishment," whispered Victoria in his ear.

Antonio's body locked up.

Without a word, without waiting for permission, Victoria reached around and started to unbuckle his pants. Without knowing what else to do, Antonio stirred the sauce mindlessly while his mind froze. He watched the water boil and poked the noodles down.

Victoria slid his pants and underwear down at the same time, in the same smooth motion. As she rose, she ran her hands up his legs and over his ass. He quivered at her touch.

"You'll want to bend over," she said. "I suggest you don't put your face in the water."