The Undertow Ch. 03

The Undertow Chapter 3: Denial

By Trixie Adara

Antonio

Antonio squirmed in his chair at work. This was getting out of hand. A week. A week since she had him go to the grocery store and play her game. A week since he came. Then, nothing. No teasing. No flirting. No sex.

A week since he came, but it had been months since they had sex. A little over a week ago, she started touching him again, but he hadn't been inside her, his wife, since she found out about Trina. More than anything, anything in the world, he wanted to fuck his wife again, to feel himself inside of her, to thrust and see her eyes roll back as she moaned. He wanted to feel his weight press against her, pound against her thick thighs over and over, taking her. But nothing. No orgasm, and certainly, no fucking.

He made sure to follow his rules. He kissed her when he came home. He cooked in her apron. He did the grocery shopping. Last night, he got sloppy, hoping disobeying would stir her control, get her attention. Instead, she quietly shook her head and left the house. She told him that he better not risk cumming without her permission.

Antonio wasn't sure how she would know if he came, but he was done underestimating his wife. Maybe she'd go through his browser history, his trash, his laundry. It didn't matter. She would find out, and he didn't want to know the punishment. It would either be more distance or more pain. He wanted neither.

Honestly, he was a little disappointed in himself. A week wasn't a terribly long time. He thought he could last longer. Apparently not. Everything made him think of sex. Every woman had a skirt too short, a top too low. Every scenario was the opening scene to some bad porno. He battled an almost constant erection and the throb of blue balls.

All of his fantasies turned to Victoria. He couldn't help it. Thinking of the cute secretary down the hall, bent over and begging him to fuck her, quickly became Victoria bending him over the desk, commanding him to fuck her if he isn't a pathetic little bitch. Every seduction became subjugation in his mind. Victoria had opened a new door for him, shown him a new world, and then quickly slammed it shut when he tried to cross through. There was a world of possibilities, but there was no one to try them with. No one who could make him feel so perfect, so pathetic. No one who could look at him with that smirk.

Before he could think better, Antonio took out his phone and pulled up Trina's number. Her contact was labelled "Marty" for deniability, and he always deleted the conversations as soon as they were over. He was as safe as he could be without cutting off contact from her entirely.

Antonio: Hey

Trina: Aren't you at work?

Antonio: I have lunch soon.

Trina: Spend it with your wife.

Antonio: What about us?

Trina: There is no us

Antonio: Don't be like this

Trina: Should I tell her you're talking to me?

Antonio: I miss you

Trina: Try missing your wife

Antonio practically snarled when he put away his phone. He did miss his wife. Trina had no idea how badly he missed her. His frustration got the better of him, and Antonio stood and left his desk. She couldn't catch him masturbating if he did it at work. She would never find out, he'd be fine.

Of course, he felt ridiculous going to masturbate at work. He wasn't worried about being caught. He'd use a stall; he'd be safe. But he could clearly see Victoria's face, her look of disappointment to know he was watching porn in public spaces. She'd probably purse her lips, maybe click her tongue and shake her head softly. The thought of it drove him closer to the edge.

He sat down in one of the stalls and took out his phone. It didn't take long to find the site he liked. He had already watched a dozen videos there before Victoria cut him off. He opened it up and watched a woman in red leather and thigh-high black boots circle her prey. He was wearing a leather hood, making him nothing more than a hole. He was bound to a tabletop while she teased him with her crop, circling him.

She had the smirk, the look that Antonio craved. As she circled, occasionally she would flick her wrist and draw a bright red line across his body. The man flinched, but he couldn't move. He had given up struggling. He was entirely under her control. She knew it. He knew it. Antonio knew it. He started stroking immediately. He was so hard, so wound up, that he probably didn't need the porn to cum, but it reminded him of Victoria, of what was waiting for him if she would wake up and play.

He wished he could turn on the sound. He wanted to hear what she was saying to him, how she was teasing him, mocking him. He wanted to hear her assert her dominance, to brag about her control, her power. But he didn't dare turn on the sound. In his mind, she had Victoria's voice. He could hear the words on her lips.

"Pathetic."

"Adorable."

"Desperate."

"Needy."

"Slut."

"Bitch."

Antonio came and spent the next five minutes cleaning up his mess.

***

That evening was their new normal. He made dinner: beef stew. She read her book while he cooked in her apron. She put on some classical music. It was nice. It wasn't the erotic sex bomb he anticipated, but it was certainly nicer than the months of silence after she found out about Trina. It was nicer than the years of boredom and routine before that. If the worst of it was welcoming kisses, cooking, and shopping, it wasn't that bad.

Until she introduced the new rule.

"Rule 4: All passwords should be shared with your wife."

After dinner, she handed him the pink card with the new rule. She was sweet; it seemed harmless, but Antonio panicked. His first instinct was to excuse himself, go to the bathroom, and hide everything on his phone. But she would know. She would know, and she would find plenty on his computer: emails, browser history, images downloaded. She would know, and he was fucked. He was totally fucked.

"You don't have anything to hide from me, do you?" she asked, her hand extended for his phone.

"There are a few things. Just a few. Some images and stuff. From when things were tough."

"You mean from when I was ignoring you after I caught you having an affair?"

"Yeah," said Antonio. He broke her gaze, looking away at the floor.

"You thought you should be allowed to jerk off after cheating on your wife?"

"I didn't ... I thought ... I'm sorry."

"Not as sorry as you will be." She wiggled her fingers, demanding his phone.

Antonio sighed and took his phone out of his pocket and slapped it into her hand.

She tries to unlock the phone, then sighs. "Password?" she asks.

"0-9-0-1."

"I'm going to change that. I'll never remember it," she said as she began exploring his phone, flicking through different screens and scrolling.

Antonio slid his hands over the thigh of his pants, bunching them and tightening his grip. What was she looking at? What was she looking for? He sat up straight, trying to loom over her and see what was on the screen. She was in his settings, changing the password to his phone.

"Do I get to know the code?" He smiled, trying to play it off as no big deal.

"When I get the password to everything." Victoria stood up and walked out of the living room and went into the kitchen. She came back with a pad of paper and a pen, handing it to him. "Every password you can think of. You'll lose a week with your phone for each one you forget."

"Everything?"

"Email. Bank. Social Media. Any random account to anything you've got. Yes."

"Work passwords?"

"Of course. Everything."

Antonio nodded and began to write. It took longer than he thought it would, realizing all the things he logs into on a daily basis. Some of them, he was terrified of her checking. But what could she want with his work email? Why bother knowing the password for his fantasy baseball team?

While he worked, Victoria scrolled through his phone, looking for something. He would look up and see her smiling or laughing to herself as she tapped.

"You spend an awful lot of time looking on Reddit," she said as she rolled through his browsing history. At first, he wondered if she'd seen what he looked at this afternoon at work. Where was she in his browser history? How recent? But as he panicked, she looked up and smirked at him. She gave a wink and went back to invading his privacy.

It was the smirk that did it for him, that something she found was amusing, embarrassing. It dropped his mind from any and all panic. He focused, drawing his attention back to his list, back to what he was commanded to do.

Halfway through the list, he heard her make some kind of choking gasp sound. He looked up and saw a look of pain and terror on her face. Her hand was hovering over her mouth, as though trying to contain a scream.

"What?" he asked. "What is it?"

Slowly, her hand trembling a bit, she turned over the phone and showed the text message between him and Trina that afternoon. Antonio's skin turned to ice. He'd forgotten to delete it. He'd been stupid, so stupid.

"How often?" she asked?

"It's not what it looks like. Seriously. I was bored at work. That's all. I was just looking to chat. I swear."

"How often do you talk to her?" Her words were slow, deliberate. She measured them carefully, ensuring Antonio heard each one, that he felt the weight of her intent.

"That's the first time in months."

She slapped him. It came out of nowhere, jerking his head to the right from the blow.

"Do not lie to me."

Antonio held his head to the side, too ashamed to look at her. Ashamed of what he'd become. Ashamed of what he did. Ashamed of what he broke and kept breaking.

"About once a week," he muttered.

"Does she always refuse to speak with you?"

"No."

Victoria stood. Antonio turned to look at her, but she was already walking away, going to the door. She stopped, turned around, and approached; her mouth open to say something. She looked at Antonio's phone in her hand and then back to her husband. Her eyes darted between the two, her lips still parted to speak, but no sound came out.

Finally, she moved back towards the door. She grabbed her coat and her purse, her face determined, her mind made up. As she opened the door, she turned to her husband and said, "Goodbye, Antonio."

She closed the door behind her, and the weight of his stupidity pressed against his chest. He wasn't risking this new game Victoria had started. He was risking his marriage, his very way of life. He was risking this woman, this wonderful woman that had the patience to stay with such a moron, the grace to put up with him, but also the wit and strength to surprise him. He was risking the best thing he ever had for what? Trina? A quick jerk in the bathroom?

"What have I done?" he whispered to himself.

But nothing and no one answered.

***

Antonio didn't move from that spot for a long time. He ran through the past year of his life: meeting Trina, starting the affair, getting caught, breaking it off, trying to keep it going, and now, getting caught all over again. He ran through the months of Victoria's silent rage, to her cold indifference, to her new game she played with him this last week.

It was one step forward and twenty steps back.

When he did get up, he gathered the different rule cards Victoria had made. Four rules. Four simple rules. Of course, there were the hidden ones inside of these: obey her immediately, obey her thoroughly and correctly, don't cum without her permission, give her a huge allowance. And don't talk to Trina. Don't ever talk to Trina. Don't even think about it. Never again.

Was that too much to ask? Nine rules? How many rules did he have for her? Did it matter? The more his mind circled over it, again and again, he didn't want rules for her. He didn't want fair. Fair meant he had a say, and when he had a say, he fucked things up. Repeatedly. Perhaps, for a time, the smartest thing he could do for his marriage was follow her rules, let her take charge for a time while he stopped breaking the thing she was holding onto so tightly.

That's what Antonio decided. He could follow her rules. And while he waited for new ones, while he waited for her to come home, he would make some for himself. He would take care of the house, take some of the cleaning off her plate. He would plan the meals, not just cook and shop for them. If he was so bored at work, he could take some initiative, find ways to surprise her, take care of her. Just because she made the rules didn't mean there was nothing he could do. He could still show initiative.

Victoria found him cleaning the bathroom when she came home. She walked through the house, expecting to find him watching television or on his computer, but he was on his hands and knees, scrubbing the toilet when she found him.

Antonio noticed that she had been shopping. She had two large bags in her hands and was in a brand new coat, dark, warm, thick, and long, going halfway down her shin. Her hair was done up in a bun, and her makeup was redone. Apparently, she got a manicure as well, her nails were a dark purple and long. She looked fantastic.

"Hello, Antonio," she said coldly.

"Hello," he said, blushed, and went back to cleaning.

"Did you make a mess?" she asked.

"Just trying to help out. I'm almost done, just one more spot."

"Meet me in the living room when you're done. We have a lot to talk about."

"Absolutely."

As she walked away, her heels clicking on the wooden floors, Antonio sighed with relief. That went better than he hoped. She seemed to have calmed down, and there was a pleasant lack of screaming. He finished cleaning, relaxing a bit now that his imagination was no longer conjuring the worst-case scenario.

When he got to the living room, she was sitting on the couch, still in her coat, scrolling through his phone. She didn't look up from it as he entered.

"Sit," she ordered.

Antonio obeyed, taking a seat next to her.

"Not here." She pointed at a chair from the dining room that stood across the room from her, still looking at his phone. "There."

Antonio obeyed, getting up and sitting across from her.

"I had a long talk with Trina," she said. Antonio tensed up. "As you," she added. "You'll be meeting for her in a week, getting coffee. You're going to make up your mind this week. Her or me. If you pick her, I'm leaving. I'm taking as much from you as I can, and you'll never hear from me again. If you pick me, you can absolutely never talk to her again. I don't care if you see her in the supermarket. You will leave. If she gets hired where you work by some bizarre fluke, you will quit that job. Is that understood?"

"Absolutely."

"One week. Make up your mind and tell her what you decide. Is that clear?"

"Yes."

"Try, 'yes, ma'am.'"

"Yes, ma'am," said Antonio, already feeling his cock twitch from her tone of voice.

"Good." Victoria put down his phone and looked at him. She wore dark lipstick and eyeshadow. She had a clean cat's eye and long lashes. She looked like a model. He hadn't seen her look like this since their wedding. It sent shivers down his spine.

"I've been going through your browser history. You've been a naughty boy."

Antonio said nothing, but his cock began to stiffen.

"You came at work today, didn't you?"

Antonio nodded.

"You're such a filthy slut. How did that feel, going to a public stall and jerking off while anyone else could be around you?"

Antonio said nothing. He blushed but didn't turn away, didn't break eye contact. He was hard now, hard as soon as she called him a slut.

"Pathetic?" she asked. "Needy? Desperate? Eager? Helpless?"

"Pathetic." He gripped the side of his armchair, trying to control his body, trying to resist the urge to move towards her, to fuck her right then and there. She was here, she was beautiful, she was his wife, somehow still his wife, and all he wanted in the world was to fuck her for the first time in months.

"It was pathetic," she said condescendingly. She held up his phone, showing the video he watched in the stall that afternoon. "And this video?" She clicked her tongue, shaking her head in disapproval. "Naughty, naughty boy."

"Yes ma'am," said Antonio. He broke away his eyes from her. She was right.

Victoria stood up. With her heeled foot, she slid the coffee table away from her, giving her more space.

"I went shopping," she said and reached into one of her bags. She pulled out a leather strap that looked like a wide and short belt. Antonio's eyes widened at the sight of them. "But they aren't for you." She walked towards him, and he froze, watching her with eager awe as she bent down, wrapped it around his shin, and the leg of the chair. She lashed them together and then moved back to the bag, grabbing three more straps.

"These are for me," she said as she bound his other leg and two arms. "How is that?"

"Good."

"Can you move?"

"No."

"Not too tight?"

"No."

"Good."

She walked back to the couch, standing in front of it, and turned to face him. "I had a lot of fun spending your money, pet."

Antonio felt a shiver of pathetic, needy lust wash over him from her words. He raised his hips in the air, thrusting at nothing, but he couldn't get too high, not with his legs bound like this.

"I'll be spending much more of it in the future. Not all of it will be for play." She held out her hands, looking at her nails. "In fact, you sponsored this manicure." She smiled and began to unbutton her long black coat. "And you paid for this coat." She finished the last button, then grabbed both sides of the coat and flew it open.

Antonio gasped. Victoria was wearing a tight, white corset with white lace finish wrapping up over her breasts, barely covering them. She had no panties on, only a white garter belt that clipped onto opaque white stockings all the way down to rich blue heels. She looked like a bride on her wedding night, but in her dark makeup, with her confident pose with her arms spread wide daring him to lust after her, she was nothing like the nervous bride he had five years ago.

"You like?" she asked.

Antonio nodded, eagerly. Again, he thrust his hips against the restraints, but it was worthless. He was stuck, but his concentration was split. As much as he wanted to break free from his restraints, to get up and pin her to the couch, fucking her with everything he had, he couldn't focus on breaking free when looking at her. Her in her glory took all reason from his mind.

She was a woman of power, yes, but she was unlike the women he'd seen in his videos. There was no pretense about her. She didn't wear latex or rubber. She wasn't in a costume. She was his bride, but not the insecure woman he knew. Her power flowed from her beauty, her beauty from her power, and all of it drew him to awe. She was complex. She was feral. She was calculating. She was sexy. She was clever. She was compassionate. She was patient. She was more, more than any woman he had seen. She was real, realer than any woman he had known.

"You want to fuck me?" she asked, her voice rising slightly. She gave a little spin, letting his eyes follow her thick hips to her impressive ass.

"Yes," moaned Antonio. He knew if she asked, he would give her anything, absolutely anything to fuck her. His cock strained against his pants. He raised his hips again, trying to break free from his restraints, but he couldn't. He was helpless. Absolutely helpless as she took control, took everything from him, and he wanted her to. More than anything, he wanted her to take from him.

She stalked towards him, smiling. No, smirking, as she approached her prey. She placed a finger gently beneath his chin and pouted her lips. "But you've been such a bad boy, haven't you?"

Antonio nodded.