05 – The Fear

Literotic asexstories – 05 – The Fear by Ms_Mel,Ms_Mel
Friday morning was surreal. I thought, for a moment, that I was still asleep when I awoke in Jakob’s arms. My stomach did a little flip when I realized I wasn’t dreaming, and I snuggled further into him, drinking in his warmth and comfort. He sighed happily and squeezed me tightly.

“Good morning.” He murmured into my half-awake ears.

“Good morning, Sir.” I responded. I figured it was safest to get back into the rhythm of things instead of pushing my luck. I’d decided that I was going to do better for him, and I remembered an old adage that he was very fond of; never put off for tomorrow what can be done today.

He smiled down at me, but I could tell there was something holding him back from showing the same boundlessly loving smile he had displayed last night. He was guarded again, and I realized that my cheating had consequences even farther reaching than I already thought.

Jakob was a lover at heart. His own determination to give me everything of himself, despite my unwillingness to do the same, was truly who he was. He was happy to be that way; fulfilled. Now, he couldn’t have that. He told me he didn’t want to do this, but now I recognized the truth of those words in his eyes.

I felt sorrow clutching at my chest, and wished desperately that I could turn back time and slap myself silly for getting us into this. I couldn’t change the past, though. I had to move forward. What would he do, in my position? That much was obvious; he’d give me whatever I wanted.

“-should be back by two o’clock at the latest.” Jakob finished, looking down at me again. It took me several moments to realize he had been talking to me while I was berating myself. Thinking very quickly, I removed myself from his embrace and knelt on the floor next to the bed, my hands on my thighs, and my chest thrust outward like he’d taught me on Wednesday.

“I’m very sorry, Sir, but I wasn’t… um… paying attention? I sort of zoned out, Sir.” I glanced up at him sheepishly. His brow furrowed, and I had to suppress a shiver at the displeased expression. “I will listen very carefully, if you would please repeat yourself for your… your s-slut.” I had to force the word out.

It was a filthy descriptor for a woman; one that I particularly despised. It inferred a lack of loyalty and decency that I found abhorrent. Now, it affected me in a new and more shameful way. It described my own actions the night of my mistake.

I had gone out with a few of my friends; other wives of SEALs who were away. We got together with some frequency to commiserate the absences of our husbands, and to share the freshest gossip about where they could be. The one I was closest with, Michelle, was married to a member of SEAL Team 4, and he had just gotten back two days ago.

She was filling us all in on what he knew of the other teams, which wasn’t very much. Even with a high security clearance, there was a lot of compartmentalization. It was worked into the fabric of the system to keep everyone as safe as possible if one person was compromised.

Nevertheless, she was more than happy to indulge our less-than-decent questions. It was the closest any of us got to our own men while they were deployed. Sometimes letters and emails would be able to find them, but it was rare that they were able to respond.

As Michelle spilled the indecorous details, the temperature in our booth seemed to rise drastically. When the wine had been finished, and we couldn’t bear sitting in the booth anymore with just our fantasies, we decided to call it a night. Michelle received a lot of good-natured teasing; the women living vicariously through her with suggestions of how to continue making her man feel at home.

The rest of them filtered out of the bar, but I had to make a detour to the bathroom before heading home. When I emerged, I walked along the bar towards the front door when I nearly ran into him. He had backed away from the bar right as I was coming past, and he gave the old midwestern “ope!” of surprise when he realized the near-miss that had taken place.

His eyes were what caught my attention first. They were a deep cobalt; jovial and relaxed. “My apologies, little lady.” He had said with a bow and a sweep of an invisible hat. “I do believe I ought to buy you a drink before I run you over.”

It was not the first time I’d been hit on while Jakob was away. Hell, it wasn’t the first time I’d been hit on that night, but something about his eyes, the wine, the stories that had gotten me hot and bothered… Maybe one flirtatious drink wasn’t that big of a deal.

One drink, and many laughs, led to another drink. Then another. Almost before I knew what was happening, the two of us were stumbling through my front door; ten short minutes from breaking my husband’s heart, and earning the title I so despised.

I suddenly snapped out of my ruminations and, eyes wide with fright, looked up at Jakob. He was smirking at me, now sitting nude on the edge of the bed. I’d drifted off again, and he had definitely noticed. I turned my eyes downward once more, trying not to panic or cry. Why was it so difficult for me to be anything but self-centered?

“Are you listening now, slut?” He asked sternly, but with a touch of amusement.

“Yes, sir.” I mumbled.

“I was telling you that I’m going to have to lock you up again. I have to make my weekly report at Little Creek. I’ll need to leave pretty soon, and I should be back by two o’clock.” He spoke while slipping out of bed and to the floor. He did a series of stretches on the floor, and I nearly forgot what he’d just told me as I admired the flexing and pulling of his muscled frame.

A condensed workout followed, and a realization struck me like a ton of bricks. I never woke up to his alarm with how heavily Jake slept, but he religiously woke up at five to do his morning workout, have his breakfast, and get coffee going well before I usually woke up. Today, I woke up in his arms. He must have turned the alarm off and stayed in bed with me when he woke up. He had chosen to just lay here and hold me. A surge of affection welled up within me, and I was glad he didn’t see the tears in my eyes while he focused on a condensed version of what I knew usually took him an hour at a minimum.

After he finished the workout, he got a fast shower before toweling off and grabbing clothes from the closet. He donned a casual, but flattering, outfit. “Do you not need your uniform, sir?” I asked. I was a real sucker for Jake in his fatigues, or especially when he wore his dress blues. I was hoping he’d need to wear the dress blues, because I knew it would require him to shave that beard.

“Not for an informal report like this.” Jakob said as he tied his shoes on. “They just need to make sure I’m not going soft during my time off.”

I nearly laughed at the idea of Jake “going soft”. He was so dedicated in everything he did, I was almost convinced he’d make the Reaper wait if he tried to interrupt his morning workout. It was odd, not having seen him work out since I got here until today, but I had been sleeping in quite late.

“Go get started on breakfast, slut. Something fast.” He said before striding from the room and heading for his office. I crawled behind him until I had to break off his trail for the kitchen, where I stood to prepare breakfast for him.

I had three fried eggs, two pieces of toast, and a mug of coffee sitting on the table by the time he emerged from the office, carrying the new contract and a pen. While he ate his breakfast, I fixed myself a bowl of cereal and knelt, eating at his feet.

“Sit with me.” He commanded when he saw I was finished. I rose with my empty bowl and settled myself at the table. The contract was sitting in front of me, opened to the last page bearing his lawyer’s amended additions and my blank signature line.

I spent longer than I was proud of staring at that line, but I felt a renewed sense of determination after the bit of selfishness he had allowed me to indulge in the previous night. It gave me hope that I would be able to see that side of him more and more until, perhaps, it was the only side of him I saw anymore.

I pushed the papers away and looked at him. “No, thank you, Sir. Your… slut… still desires your correction.” I turned my eyes down to the table when I uttered the slur. I couldn’t bear to see those eyes while acknowledging my mistake again.

He gently brushed his fingers against the side of my face, and I raised my eyes to his again. He was smiling widely, clearly pleased with my decision. “Good. I would like you to consider what you would like for a reward for your decision while I’m gone. If it is within reason, I will grant it.”

My face lit up, and remembrances of our lovemaking immediately flooded my mind. “Thank you, Sir.”

“Not what we did last night.” He said softly, almost regretfully. He knew, of course, what I wanted. “That is not something you have earned, yet. Remember, it was your last selfish request. That kind of love will be displayed again, when you have… progressed.”

The fall of my face was mitigated by the promise of an opportunity to really earn his love in that way. It was strange, but this brutal honesty that had developed between us regarding my behavior somehow made me feel like we were drawing closer than we had ever been. Like he knew me, accepted the way I was, and also believed in what I could become.

Jakob stood from the table and beckoned for me to follow. “Come on, slut. I need to get going. You can take care of the dishes when I return.” He grabbed a couple water bottles from the fridge before heading towards my cell. I slid from the chair to my knees, and crawled after him. He lifted the waters up and wiggled them a bit, saying, “I tried to get D.O.C. to install a water fountain or something in the cell, but they wouldn’t have it. They seemed to think you would try to rot the floors out by dripping it through the bars or something.”

When we reached the cell, he set the bottles inside and stood back, allowing me to enter. I crawled just inside the door before turning to face him. I hesitated there, debating whether I truly wanted to do what I was thinking of. I solidified my resolve, and I opened my mouth to ask a question, but he seemed to be expecting something else.

“I do not have time for you to suck my cock, though I do appreciate the enthusiasm.” He said, half exasperated, half amused.

“Actually, Sir, I was going to ask if I could… if I could have one of the tools you were going to use yesterday, to practice with.” He raised his eyebrows at me, clearly surprised. “I promise I won’t pleasure myself with it. I just want to get a bit more familiar with myself, back there. Hopefully I can help you to help me.”

“Really?” He asked, incredulously. “I didn’t think you’d want to dive into that again. Do you not trust me to do it myself?”

I hesitated again. He seemed to know me better than I knew myself. I told myself I wanted to do this to help him, but when I examined my feelings, I found his question to be spot on. I didn’t want to trust him with that, despite my resolve. I was trying to cling to some measure of control over my descent. I hung my head, defeated.

“No, Sir, I don’t. I’m sorry.” I tried to keep the tremble in my voice to a minimum as I raised my face to look at him. “Nevermind.”

He frowned at me, but he didn’t seem angry. It was more like he had been provided a complicated puzzle, and wasn’t sure what to do with it. He studied me for a moment. Without a word, he strode away with the cell door still open. I remained kneeling at the doorway.

What could he be doing? Was he getting a toy anyways? Should I use it if he did? Would it be better to leave it for him? He had felt wonderful last night when his tongue was massaging me back there. Maybe he’d learned a few other tricks. Maybe his way would be better.

He returned not with a toy, but with the alarm clock from his nightstand. He plugged it into the wall and set it to the correct time. It was ten thirty. I looked at him curiously as he straightened back up and stepped out of the cell.

“It is a reward and a punishment, slut.” He said as an explanation before shutting the door. “You will be able to tell the time, and how much longer you have to wait. However, the more you look at it, the slower time will seem to go.”

“Oh.” I said simply. It was an odd thing to give me. “Thank you for your punishment, Sir, but what has your… slut… done to deserve a reward?”

“You admitted that you were being selfish. That you were trying to avoid putting your trust in me. Being honest with yourself is one of the first steps to identifying, and thus fixing, whatever is wrong.” He said, and he seemed to anticipate my next question as well. “Because you didn’t insist on avoiding trusting me, you aren’t being punished for that. The punishment is for ‘zoning out’ while I was speaking with you earlier.”

I nodded, and he gave me a small smile as he locked the door. “Remember, I’ll be back by two.”

______________________________________________________________________________

I tried to nap for the first ten minutes, but I had slept deep and untroubled last night. I wasn’t tired at all. True to Jakob’s prediction, the more often I looked at the clock, the fewer minutes had passed between each glance. I considered passing the time trying to simulate the enjoyment I got from Jake’s touch but, all things considered, I decided to deny myself for the time being to try and make progress on my own. Maybe it was as selfish as wanting to stretch myself out, or maybe it was a sign of the growth that Jake wanted from me. I paced the room, thinking.

Jakob seemed to have such a handle on everything around him. Why was that? How did he seem to know more about me than I did? Obviously, he paid attention to me, but how could I not pay attention to myself? Isn’t this whole situation a result of my own inability to pay attention to anything but myself?

No, that wasn’t right. I paid attention to my own wants and needs, but not to who I was. A person is more than their wants and needs; they are also their flaws and failures, their dreams and goals. A lot can be learned about a person by the company they keep, as well. Who someone chooses to interact with, and how they do it, are good indications of what lies beneath the surface of their personality.

I thought about Jakob. Really thought about him, as a person. Where did he fit into this picture? I knew his needs as well as any other person’s; he needed food, sleep, a roof over his head. All the basics. He also needed to be loved, as any person does. More personally, I knew that he needed a project. He was always trying to fix something. Ironic that now I was the focus of such attentions, when before I had been perfectly happy for him to dive into his projects if it gave me time to focus on whatever caught my eye that day, be it a new recipe I wanted to try, a gardening technique that looked fun, or even just a new coffee shop in town for us wives to gather in.

I was ashamed at how little I knew of his wants and desires. I knew he wanted me to succeed. I knew he wanted to be the best that he could be. I knew he wanted to explore more in the bedroom, but I’d always shut that down. He blew my mind as it was; why would I risk him discovering something that he enjoyed more, if there was a chance I wouldn’t like it?

On the subject of his flaws and failures, I didn’t know if I’d ever seen him fail at something in all the time I’d known him, except for the limbo at prom, but that hardly seemed indicative of deep-seated psychological issues. One could argue he had a hero complex; he was always the first to offer help, and the last to get out of danger. I think that kind of mentality is what made him so compatible with the SEALs.

I knew he wanted a family. We’d always been excited at the prospect of having kids together. He loved his work as a SEAL, but I really didn’t know how far he wanted to take his career. Would he work it his whole life, climbing into the upper echelons of command when his body was too worn down to be deployed? Would he leave the armed forces and go to a private sector job? I couldn’t remember anything of the conversations we had about it on the rare occasion we weren’t addressing my paltry issues. He’d always been so focused on me, even though I didn’t seem to have any ambitions of my own.

What did his marriage to me say about him? Did he see me as a problem to fix, even back when we were dating? Perhaps. He’d always been wise beyond his years. Did he enjoy the company of people less skilled or adept than him because it gave him an ego boost? I didn’t think so. He’d never been conceited. Maybe it was the simple fact that I made promises to him that he chose to believe. Promises that I didn’t uphold. How much better could his life have been without me?

I pulled myself away from the edge of that spiral. I was trying to figure out who I was, as a person. Why I did the things I did. Why it was so difficult for me to give of myself unconditionally, the way Jake did. Berating myself and inducing an anxiety attack wouldn’t help me get there.

So what did I know about myself? It was obvious that I liked an easy life, but my six months of working three jobs proved that I was certainly capable of doing more with myself than I had in the past. Why didn’t I apply myself more, then? It was the obvious solution to a life devoid of purpose and growth. I hadn’t ever had anything that needed me to apply myself the way being on my own had, and that was a certified disaster. My parents, and later on with Jake, had always made sure I knew that I was loved and cherished exactly as I was. Perhaps I took that too far…

While I couldn’t come up with answers to many of the criteria that I had determined made up a person’s character, there was one question whose answer was glaringly obvious. Why did I marry Jakob? What did my relationship with him say about me? He was my safety net; reliable, devoted, affirming, caring. If the entire world went mad, as mine had, I could have still counted on Jake’s love for me if I hadn’t been too scared to face the music. My fears of the world around me naturally caused me to cling to someone like that.

Then, like a thunderbolt from on high, the epiphany struck me. It was the same answer for all of them. Fear and distrust. I didn’t apply myself, because I was afraid of failing. You can’t fail if you don’t try. I didn’t have definable goals or aspirations, because there was nothing to fall short of if I kept them ambiguous.

I kept the partner of my heart from exploring my body in new ways because I was afraid of him hurting me. Just the thought of that notion was ridiculous. Jake would never hurt me. Except he had. I had forced him to. I had put him in a position where he had to betray who he was — a protector and a comforter — in order to save me from my own fears.

The more I thought about it, the easier it was to identify exactly why he had chosen the punishments he did. The punishment with the wand was the most obvious. We had played around with chaining my orgasms before, but I’d always stop him after a couple. I distinctly remember telling him I was afraid of having any more because they felt like they would drive me insane. While I certainly had been in no state to speak about anything while it was happening, he had proved to me what he’d always told me; it won’t do any lasting harm. He had researched it, but I hadn’t trusted him.

The clamps and the whip, I think, fell in the same category. One that I would be getting a lot more of, if I was right. My fear of pain was second to none. I remember breaking down in hysterics when he urged me to get a matching tattoo with him. I’d always believed I had an unnaturally low pain tolerance, but he seemed to know me better. Again. God, was that getting irritating. Not only did the whipping and clamps prove that pain in and of itself wouldn’t break me, but they’d also shown me that despite what my head might think, my body seemed to enjoy it.