Page 14

Alexander

I push open the door to Scarlett’s room, half expecting her to have disappeared off somewhere again but to my surprise she’s there, sitting at her vanity. All docile. All obedient.

For a moment, I allow myself to simply watch her. To drink in the sight of my wife, who, despite everything, remains the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

The soft glow of the setting sun illuminates her delicate profile. Her hair is pulled back into a loose bun, tendrils escaping to frame her face, and she’s dressed in a simple yet elegant dress that accentuates her figure.

“Scarlett,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

She turns to look at me, her blue eyes wide and questioning. There’s a vulnerability in her gaze that’s unnerving. It’s a reminder of the woman I fell in love with, the woman who is now a mere shadow of her former self.

“Alex,” she replies, her voice trembling slightly. “I, I didn’t hear you come in.”

I step into the room, closing the door behind me. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I just... I wanted to check on you. Make sure you’re okay.”

She offers me a tentative smile, the corners of her mouth quivering as if she’s unsure whether to trust her own emotions. “I’m fine. Just a bit tired, that’s all.”

I cross the room to stand behind her, my hands resting gently on her shoulders. I can feel the tension in her muscles, the subtle way she stiffens at my touch. I guess that’s to be expected.

“You gave us quite a scare earlier,” I say, my thumbs tracing soothing circles on her skin. “Running off like that... it’s not safe, Scarlett. You could have hurt yourself.”

She lowers her gaze, her fingers worrying at the hem of her dress. “I know. I just... I needed some air, some space to clear my head. I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”

I lean down, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, inhaling the rich scent of her shampoo. Apparently, she’s even washed herself too. Now that is an improvement. “You could never be trouble. You’re my wife, and I love you. I just want to keep you safe.”

Her eyes meet mine in the mirror, a flicker of something unreadable passing over her features. “I love you too, Alex. I just... I feel so lost sometimes, so confused. I hate feeling like this, like I’m a burden to you.”

I straighten, my hands moving to cup her face, forcing her to maintain eye contact with me.

“Listen to me, Scarlett. You are not a burden. You are the most important person in my life, and I will do whatever it takes to help you get through this. But you have to trust me. We’re in this together, okay? ”

She nods, a single tear escaping to trail down her cheek. I wipe it away with my thumb, a sense of satisfaction washing over me.

The doctor’s words echo in my mind, his assurance that the new medication will keep her compliant, manageable. It seems he was right, because for the first time in weeks, Scarlett appears to be truly accepting of her situation, of the care we’re providing for her.

It’s about fucking time.

I release her, stepping back to lean against the edge of the vanity. I can see she’s got herself all dressed up for dinner, but I’m not in the mood for the drama that will inevitably bring with it. “Why don’t you get some rest? It’s been a long day, and I’m sure you could use the sleep.”

She hesitates for a moment before nodding again, rising from her seat to cross the room to the bed.

I watch her, my gaze tracking the subtle sway of her hips, the graceful movements of her body. Even now, in her fragile, emaciated state, she’s impossible to resist.

As she slips beneath the covers, I feel my cock stiffen. Memories of what I did to her only last night surface. Does she realise? Does she feel that soreness between her thighs and wonder? Or is she so medicated that she can’t connect the dots?

I approach the bed, my eyes never leaving hers as I begin to undress, peeling away the layers of my suit to reveal the toned, muscular body beneath.

Her gaze flickers with uncertainty, a silent question hanging in the air between us.

“Alex...” she begins, her voice barely audible.

“Shh,” I murmur, silencing her with my hand over her mouth.

I’m more than aware that she technically needs another dose, another hit. But right now, I’m not all that bothered. If she decides to become combative, then so be it. I’ll hold her down if necessary.

She gulps, while her body language tells me everything I need to know. That she’s submitting. Playing the dutiful wife she’s meant to be.

My hands roam over her body, reacquainting myself with the softness of her skin, the warmth of her flesh. It always feels different when she’s conscious. Like I’m with an entirely different version of her.

She responds to my touch with a quiet gasp, her body arching into mine as if seeking the comfort and reassurance she knows only her husband can provide.

There’s a good fucking girl. See, you can be obedient when you want to.

I take my time, exploring every inch of her, seeing all those bruises, those scars, reminders of what her body has endured and will endure. I pinch her nipple, one then the other and she whimpers loud enough that I can hear it.

I’ve always liked it rough, always liked proving my dominance.

It’s another thing I liked about Scarlett in the beginning, that me abusing her, degrading her, using her, was what turned her on.

No, my sweet, innocent looking wife was anything but innocent once I stripped her down and got her between the sheets.

There was never any pretence, any gentle lovemaking. We both got what we needed, what we wanted.

It’s what gave me the idea in the first place.

She may be forgetful of some things, but this part of her, this side remembered.

She was always a filthy, dirty little whore in the bedroom – so why not continue to take advantage of that?

To enjoy that? Afterall, what else is she good for in her present state?

I pinch her clit, and her whimpers become sharp little cries.

“Al…”

“Tell me that you’ve learnt.” I say, unable to stop myself, unable to resist the chance to prove my power over her while she can respond to it.

“I have.” She says quickly.

“Tell me you’re going to behave from now on, that you will do as you’re told and be a good wife.”

“I will.”

I smirk, leaning in and bite her lip just hard enough to draw blood.

“Tell me what a filthy slut you are for me. How much you love my cock, how much you need it.”

She hesitates just for a moment, so I pinch harder, twisting, hurting her more. Her legs jerk as she twists beneath me, but my weight holds her down. She’s not going anywhere until I say she can. Until I’m done with her.

Maybe I should get a clamp, maybe I should invest in some proper toys.

“Alex,”

“Tell me.” I snap.

She nods, turning her face away as her cheeks flame. “I need it.” She whispers.

Yeah, she does. She’s practically an addict now, I made sure of that.

Between the medication and our little soirees, this wife of mine can’t get enough cock if she tried.

I’ve trained her, conditioned her. It’s why she responded the way she did last night.

Why her body still enjoyed being fucked, even though her mind wasn’t present for it.

I push myself into her, feeling how her cunt expands. As usual she’s wet. Soaking.

She lets out a moan, arching her back, proving that those words were not just that. She’s a greedy little whore, desperate for her next fix.

“Don’t worry.” I taunt as I start thrusting. “I’ll make sure you get it good.”

She grasps at the sheets as if she’s torn between fighting me off or not.

I grab her legs, yanking her until she’s half off the bed and slam into her harder and harder, all the while her cunt squelches, welcoming me in.

“You like this, don’t you?” I state as her face grows more flushed. “You like being used. You like being treated this way.”

I shove two fingers into her mouth, and she instantly gags. Whatever words she says are lost as her throat constricts.

My balls tighten, my own release takes me and I pour into her, filling her up.

She sags as if she thinks that’ll be the end. As if I’d stop there.

She likes degradation, and that’s what she’ll get.

I pull out, my cock already softening, and I drop to my knees, seeing my come leaking down her bruised red lips.

“You’ve had so much cock you can’t even keep your own husband’s seed in for a minute.” I sneer.

She sniffs, trying to move, and a quick slap to her cheek tells her to stay put.

I scoop some up, smearing it over her labia. She’s beautifully landscaped down there. I have the maids shave her on a near daily basis while she lies there, unconscious and oblivious. It’s not the most shaming thing to happen to her and for hygiene reasons, it is necessary.

“You haven’t come yet, wife.” I murmur. “It’s bad manners not to perform for your husband.”

“Alex…”

Her cry dies as I push three fingers into her, pushing my come back in.

Her legs jerk and she clenches her fists, but we both know she wants this. She always wants this.

“Little wife.” I taunt, stretching her, widening her. She may never give me an actual child, but I love the idea of her being full of my seed all the same. If this were a different life, if this had a different outcome, I would breed her. I’d pump her full of my offspring.

And what beautiful offspring we would have.

But it’s not to be. Not part of the plan.

“That feels good, doesn’t it?” I ask.

She nods, meeting my gaze, and her eyes are more than teary.

We both know I like the tears too. I like the way she cries, how she begs. She’s in so many ways the perfect wife. It’s a shame she won’t be mine forever. It’s a shame we won’t be given that.

“Beg for it.” I say. “Beg for your husband to finish you off.”

She arches her back, spreading her pale legs wider. “Please, please Alex. Please give me this.”

My lips curl into a half-smirk, half-smile. She’s so damn desperate, it’s adorable.

I could be a shit. I could keep this torment up a while longer, but I’ve had my fun and now, so can she.

I tweak her clit one last time with my other hand before slapping it hard enough that she shrieks.

And then I’m circling her, teasing her, giving her my softer side as she sinks back into the mattress, gasping for breath.

I lower my mouth and trace my tongue right between her labia, savouring the taste. There was always something about her, something about her taste that sent me wild. For all her faults, and my wife has a fair few, she tastes like pure fucking perfection.

She moans out, arching her hips to demand more. Greedy slut.

I suck her clit into my mouth, while I begin working away with my fingers. She’s so damned wet it practically drips down into my palm.

Come wife, do as you’re told. Be a good girl and fucking come.

She moans, she writhes, she acts like she’s never had better oral in her life. My eyes trace the way her breasts heave, the way her face grows more and more flushed.

“Alex…” She cries out, her fists grasping at the sheets like she needs to anchor herself down.

And then I can taste it, I can feel it, the way her walls are clamping around me.

“That’s it,” I say, lifting my head to watch her perform. “Come like the slut you are.”

She kicks out, she jerks, and then she finally slumps into the sheets as her breathing turns ragged.

She reaches out, her hand searching for me and I know what she wants, what she’s after. She wants me to hold her, to wrap my body around hers. To play the doting husband.

Only, I’m not in the mood for that sort of sentimentality. Besides, she got off, didn’t she? She had her fun. What more do I have to do?

I get to my feet and without another word, I grab my clothes and leave her to it.