Brie's Submission (1-3) (Brie's Submission Boxed Set)

  “I have longed to sit beside you like this again, Master.”

  She closed her eyes and reveled in the delightful sensations evoked by Sir’s hand. Each time he brushed through her hair, a burst of electrical tingles traveled down her spine. The two sat in silence, absorbing the shock of this new dynamic together—and this new life.

  Brie eventually braved the question that had been burning in the back of her mind since he’d mentioned it. “Sir, may I ask you a personal question?”

  “Yes, téa.”

  “When you mentioned your father, you used the word ‘was’.”

  “I did. However, it is not something I care to discuss tonight.”

  She looked down at the floor, regretting that she’d mentioned it.

  Sir commanded, “Look at me.”

  Brie peeked up at Sir hesitantly.

  “You are allowed to ask questions. I encourage it. But tonight I have other plans.”

  Her gaze traveled to his crotch and she noticed the hardness of his shaft outlined beneath the black material. When she looked into her Master’s eyes, she saw lust reflected back.

  Sir slowly unzipped his pants, releasing his rigid cock. He opened his legs wider and Brie obediently moved in between, taking his princely manhood in both hands. With slow, luscious licks and light nibbles, she loved his shaft before taking its fullness into her mouth.

  The tang of her own juices still covered his cock, mixing with his pre-come. Brie moaned, savoring the taste of their blend. He pulled his pants down farther before he lightly fisted her hair and guided her. She purred, sucking harder as she moved her lips up and down his handsome shaft.

  Making love to Sir with her mouth was intimate and powerfully bonding. She flicked her tongue against his frenulum and around the sensitive ridge of the head. He groaned and lay back farther on the couch, spreading his legs more. She relaxed her throat, preparing to take him more deeply, just as his cell phone rang.

  Sir opened his eyes and sighed. “I have to take this, but do not stop.” He fished the cellphone from the pocket of his open pants.

  Brie did not want to distract him from the call by deep-throating him, so she concentrated on his balls and the sensitive spot just below them. She could hear Mr. Gallant’s voice in her head: “The perineum is the area between the testicles and the anus. Do not forget this area.”

  As she pleasured him, she couldn’t help listening to Sir’s side of the conversation. “No, I won’t be able to make it tonight.”

  There was a deep rumble on the other end.

  “I assure you that is not the case.”

  The phone erupted in a low roll of laughter.

  Rytsar.

  The deep rumbling continued on the other end, to which Sir replied, “Yes, I see no reason not to schedule a trip now.” She could hear laughter on the other end. Brie attempted to hide her smile unsuccessfully.

  “It appears my submissive is agreeable to the idea, as well.”

  Brie’s heart melted at being called his submissive. A trip to Russia to visit the infamous Rytsar in his homeland would be an adventure, but truly, nothing could compare to now. She lavished even more attention on Sir’s cock, wanting him to feel how profoundly she loved him.

  “Fine. I’ll work out the details later. I’m sure you’ll understand why I am hanging up on you.” Sir shut his phone with a snap and stuffed it back in his pocket. Brie took it to mean she could begin deep-throating him, and slid the head of his shaft to the back of her throat, relaxing her muscles so she could take him deeper.

  “No, not yet,” he stated. She released her hold on his cock and looked up at him from between his muscular thighs.

  “Do you know what that is?” he asked, pointing to the stylish red lounger.

  “An artful chair, Sir.”

  He raised an eyebrow suggestively, making her loins quiver. There was no doubt it was more than a simple lounge.

  “It’s called a Tantra chair, téa. Especially designed for the Kama Sutra. Are you familiar with the Kama Sutra?”

  “I’ve heard of it, Sir. But no, I don’t know anything about the Kama Sutra.”

  He lifted her chin up and leaned over to kiss her. “My naïve submissive, there is still so much you have yet to learn.”

  She smiled at him with love. “I’m honored to have you as teacher.”

  He nodded and then replied huskily, “And Master. Sit in the chair for me.”

  Her whole body trembled as she got up from the floor and lay down in the arc of the red chaise. Brie took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart as Sir shed his clothes in front of her, his belt hitting the marble floor with a satisfying clink. She marveled at Sir’s masculine body. Dark hair covered his toned chest and powerful thighs, and framed Sir’s handsome shaft, thick and physically pleasing. Truly the most beautiful cock she had ever seen—or felt.

  Brie was surprised when he left her there, and instead walked down the hall of his apartment. She turned her head towards the window to look at the city lights. She loved the beauty of LA at night. It spoke of hope, magic and dreams coming true…

  When she heard Sir, she started to turn her head but he ordered, “No, stay as you were.”

  Brie settled back onto the chair, biting her lip to stop the questions spurred by his command. She pretended to stare out at the city lights, but she was intently watching his reflection.

  Sir looked as magnificent naked as he did dressed, and he carried himself with a confidence that made his being nude seem completely natural—preferred, actually.

  She could tell he had something in his hand, but was unable to identify it. Brie watched as he approached her. She held her breath when he stood over Brie and gazed at her body. She saw Sir hold up his hand just before all the lights went out.

  “Master?”

  “Hush…”

  She waited, listening to the sound of his breathing behind her. Sir eventually broke the silence with his low, compelling voice. “The dark allows for a more intense connection, both of us dependent on senses other than sight.”

  The experience reminded her of the hood that Master Anderson had used on her once. However, this was far more alluring because Sir would be equally challenged. The thought thoroughly aroused her.

  Brie felt his hand begin caressing her thigh. He said nothing as he ran his fingers over her skin slowly, sensually. He explored her body, taking in every part as he found his way into every untouched crevice—between toes, behind knees, the sensitive area behind her ears, and even her unbearably ticklish armpits. Nothing escaped his scrutiny.

  His warm hands glided over her ass, grasping and releasing, kneading her buttocks lustfully. “I love the flesh of a woman’s ass. Pliable…sensuous…irresistible.”

  Brie purred softly in response.

  He traced the letters he had written on her chest after the collaring as if he could see them. The individual letters tingled even after he removed his finger. Sir then placed her hand on his own chest, where she had written her word.

  “Master, yes, but for this session you will call me Sir,” he commanded.

  She was curious what he had in mind, but answered quietly, “My pleasure, Sir.”

  As if he knew her thoughts, he added, “Everything I do has a purpose, a simple lesson for you to learn. What was the lesson of the window?”

  She swallowed hard before replying, “Even my orgasms answer to you.”

  “Good.” Sir found her lips with his fingers, leaned over her and kissed Brie on the lips. “Now I will teach you another.”

  Brie felt him cup her buttocks in his strong hands. Sir gently pushed her up the angled back of the chair as he climbed between her legs. “Tuck in your legs, téa.”

  As soon as she did, the smooth head of his shaft rested against her sex.

  Still cradling her ass, he pressed his cock into her. Gravity helped the depth of his penetration as he lowered her down onto his shaft. “The beauty of the Tantra chair is that it allows for the
perfect angle,” he murmured, his cock nestling deep inside her.

  “Sir…” she gasped as he began rolling his pelvis, using his hands to support her. Brie slid up and down the back of the chair effortlessly as he thrust his shaft into her, hitting the perfect spot with each stroke.

  He sought out her lips again, the kisses tender. When he broke away his warm breath caressed her ear. “I shall make love to you now.” His lips returned to her mouth. Both his tongue and his cock expressed his deep passion for her.

  Sir’s lovemaking was an ethereal experience. Brie soaked in the emotional wave of it even as her body responded to his skill and expertise. She prayed it would never end. “I love you, Sir, with all my heart.”

  Instead of giving a verbal response, he surprised her by leaning over the side of the chair to pick up something from the floor. “Give me your left wrist.”

  Brie lifted it to him and felt Sir’s hand trail up her arm to her wrist. He joined them together with a soft cord without the aid of light and announced, “We are bound together as one.” His warm lips pressed against the binding before he lifted their hands over her head, holding her firm. He kissed her deeply then, thrusting with slow, fluid movements.

  Brie was overcome by the profound gesture and opened herself completely to her Master, holding nothing back as he claimed her heart. He made love to her tenderly while he held her captive. It was the best of all worlds and for the first time she felt utterly…complete.

  Sir growled in her ear just before his cock swelled and the powerful surges began, filling her body and soul with his masculine essence. She responded with a gentle orgasm of her own. It was like sweet ambrosia.

  Sir slipped his free hand under the small of her back and pressed her to him possessively afterwards. They lay there in the dark; the only sound was their labored breathing. She matched hers to his and reveled in the added connection. Alone, bound together, skin against skin… Held in his tight embrace, Brie knew with confidence she would never love another as deeply as Sir—his claiming was complete.

  Misguided Service

  Brie woke up before daybreak to the sound of Sir’s relaxed breathing beside her. She was tempted to pinch herself. Here she was, sleeping next to Sir, in his bed. Brie lay in the dark, drinking in the moment.

  When he rolled over, she quietly slipped out of bed and made her way to the kitchen. She was determined to make him the best damn omelet known to man. She shivered as she tiptoed through his dark apartment, the chill of the marble freezing her toes.

  When Brie reached the kitchen, she flicked on the light in the hallway and glanced over at the red lounger, a smile playing across her lips. Last night, Sir had taught her that he commanded not only her body, but also her heart. She sighed happily and scanned the panoramic view of the city. Considerably fewer lights than before twinkled below as LA prepared for the beginning of a new day. She caught a glimpse of Sir’s white shirt on the floor beside the couch. Brie walked over and picked it up, crushing it to her chest to drink in his smell.

  Brie purred, loving the sexy feel of his shirt wrapped around her naked frame as she buttoned it up. The shirt hung down, barely covering her ass. Its thin material provided little protection from the cold, but the knowledge it was Sir’s warmed her immensely.

  She returned to the stylish kitchen to assemble the ingredients. His kitchen was clean and artfully decorated, like the rest of his house. Black granite countertops, stainless steel appliances and recessed lighting made it look like it belonged in a magazine. It was a bit intimidating, but Brie refused to be deterred.

  She was delighted to see there was a whole carton of eggs. Plenty to make a mistake or two… She then searched through the fridge to gather the rest of the ingredients. Brie set them out before her and replayed the recipe in her mind, going over each step. She found an appropriate pan, bowl, and whisk, making only the tiniest of noises, being extra careful not to wake Sir. She sat down at his small, round kitchen table and waited for Master to wake up. Unfortunately, she was feeling too anxious to sit for long.

  Brie decided it would be wise to do a quick run-through first. She cracked the eggs and separated them like a pro. She got the pan heating while she whipped up the egg whites. In no time, she had a fluffy, expertly cooked omelet sitting on a plate. Wouldn’t Marquis be proud?

  She felt kinda sad when she tossed it into the trash, but focused her energy on cutting up the veggies and shredding the cheese for the real omelet. As she was dicing up the ham, she heard movement behind her.

  “Continue,” Sir said as he settled down at the kitchen table to watch. She noticed he wore only boxers. Oh, my God—he looks hot. Naked, dressed, or in boxers, it didn’t matter—the man was a stunning example of masculinity.

  Brie’s heart began to race. It was one thing to cook without an audience, but to have Sir watch her… She took a few deep breaths before beginning. She cracked the eggs and groaned silently. A shell! She poured them into the sink and started again. This time she succeeded and quietly cheered. She turned on the burner and proceeded to whip and fold the egg mixture, sneaking glances at Sir while she worked. He remained stoic, but Brie swore she saw a slight smirk.

  No matter. This morning she would prove to him that she could cook—omelets, at least. She poured the eggs onto the bubbling butter in the pan and turned to Sir. “What would you like in your omelet, Sir?”

  “Put in whatever you assume I’d like.”

  She nodded. His odd answer made her feel a bit anxious over her choice, but she went ahead and sprinkled in a little chive, ham and sharp cheddar cheese. She swirled it around, noticing that the cheese was burning on the sides of the pan. Crap, I’m supposed to wait to add cheese!

  Her nerves hit and she froze. It was ruined. She hesitated before tossing it in the trash so she could start again. Sir said nothing.

  Brie began the process again. She almost burnt the butter, but saved it in the nick of time. She added the proper ingredients and mixed it up before putting it down to wait for it to set. Everything looked good; this would be a perfect omelet. She could just see the proud gleam in Sir’s eyes when he tasted it.

  She went to pick up the pan to swirl it, not noticing that Sir was behind her until he grabbed her wrist and turned her around. He lifted her onto the cold granite counter and began unbuttoning the shirt.

  Brie glanced over at the eggs nervously. They would be ruined if she didn’t get them off the stove now, but Sir was slow and deliberate as he unfastened the last button and slowly slid his shirt off her shoulders.

  He kissed her on the collarbone and then slowly made a trail down between her breasts. The whole time, Brie stared anxiously at the eggs, but she quickly returned her attention to him when he looked up. Sir gave her a mischievous smile and kissed her on the lips.

  When he pulled away, she couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Sir, the eggs…”

  He lifted her chin up and kissed her again, as if he hadn’t heard. The unpleasant smell of burnt egg began to swirl around her nostrils. Her perfect omelet was ruined.

  Without breaking the kiss, Sir pushed the pan off the burner and turned it off. Then he pulled away from her, wearing a serious expression. He lifted Brie off the counter, removing the shirt completely before asking her to sit.

  Brie didn’t know what was happening, but it was obvious she had failed somehow.

  Sir sat across the table from her and stared at Brie for several moments before speaking. “Do you know what you did wrong, téa?”

  She blushed and whispered, “I burnt your eggs, Sir.”

  “No.”

  Brie looked up at him, now suddenly far more alarmed. “Sir, did I pick the wrong ingredients?”

  He shook his head once. “No. Apparently, you are unaware that you have made three grievous errors this morning.”

  Her lips trembled. How? What could she have done wrong when all she’d wanted to do was impress him?

  “Shall I explain?” he asked.

  Brie l
ooked down at the glass tabletop to avoid his disappointed stare. “Please, Sir.”

  “Look at me.”

  She forced herself to look up and meet his solemn gaze.

  “First, you left my bed without permission. A grave error on your part that shall not happen again. Second, you disobeyed a direct order.”

  She shook her head in disagreement. “No, Sir, I would never—”

  He looked at her sternly. “Last night I told you that you were only to wear the collar.”

  She opened her mouth to protest but then nodded, realizing that he had. “Yes, you did, Sir.” She looked down at her feet, completely mortified. “I am sorry, Sir. I deserve to be punished.”

  “Why did you disobey me?”

  “I assumed it was a command only meant for the moment.” She bit her lip to stop it from trembling. Once Brie had regained her composure, she added, “I never meant to disobey you, Sir. Please know that.”

  “I accept your apology. See that it does not happen again.”

  “Never, Sir.”

  “Never is a long time, my little sub. Do not be quick to use such words.”

  She looked at the table again, crushed to be failing so badly on her first morning with him. A glutton for punishment, she asked, “How did I fail you the third way, Sir?”

  “You did not ask what I wanted for breakfast, or if I wanted breakfast at all.”

  Her shoulders slumped in defeat, but she quickly straightened them, not wanting to offend him further. “I was foolish not to ask, Sir.”

  “There is something you should know.”

  She looked up at him sheepishly. “What, Sir?”

  “I hate eggs.”

  Her jaw dropped and she squeaked, “You do?” How could it be that her Master hated the only thing she knew how to cook well?

  Sir crinkled his nose. “The smell makes me nauseous and now my whole apartment reeks.”

  She sat in stunned silence, feeling sick to her stomach.

  “Do not fret, téa. I only punish willful disobedience. Today I was curious what you would do. In your eagerness to please, you forgot your training.”