For a second time, she felt the intense buildup. “Oh, Master!” she screamed as a second powerful orgasm claimed her. Liquid flowed from her, splashing droplets everywhere.
“What is that?” she whispered from beneath the hood.
“It’s your female ejaculation, my dear,” he answered, kissing her through the silk. “And I must say, it tastes as sweet as rain.”
He moved down to her pussy and started to eat her.
Brie was unsure if she could take further stimulation. “Please, Master. No.”
“No is not an option, babygirl.”
Sir swirled his tongue over her clit and growled when she tried to struggle. Brie instantly became still.
He licked her clit in a long, hard, rhythmic manner. Brie could imagine Sir’s cock thrusting into her as it brushed against her clit instead of his tongue. It didn’t take long before her pussy began twitching with a need for sexual release.
This kind of climax was familiar and comforting to her. She began mewing as his expert tongue brought her to the edge. She willingly gave in to the waves of pleasure, easily coming for her Master.
After the last wave had dissipated, he climbed on top of her and thrust his cock into her wet, overly sensitive pussy. The head of his shaft rubbed against her extremely swollen G-spot with concentrated abandon. This time she did not resist the stimulation, wanting to come around his cock.
Brie let out a loud, passionate scream when she washed his rigid shaft in yet another watery orgasm. Sir answered her by coming deep inside her pussy, the mixing of their essences complete.
“Sir… Sir…” Brie whimpered afterwards, overwhelmed by the experience and finding the darkness of the hood unsettling.
He immediately removed it and smiled down at her. “I’m right here, Brie.”
She looked into his eyes in wonder. “I’ve never experienced anything like that.”
“I was curious how you would respond to it. It requires a loss of control on a level that many women, even devoted subs, find difficult.” He lifted himself off her and slid his hand down between her legs. “I love how slippery sweet you are. I have acquired a taste for you and will be demanding a sample whenever the urge strikes, téa.”
Brie trembled at the thought.
Sir was releasing her from the restraints when the violin in the background began to play an achingly poignant melody. He stripped off the bedcover before lying down beside her and closing his eyes.
With pride in his voice, Sir confided, “My father used to play this song for me. He laid out all his emotions whenever he played, holding nothing back…”
It was so beautiful that a tear fell down Brie’s cheek as she listened. “I can feel it, Sir. It’s as if he is speaking to me through his violin.”
Sir opened his eyes and gazed at her, finally nodding in response when tears welled up in his eyes.
Brie cuddled up next to him and they lay there, listening to his father speak through the song. The life and vitality Brie found in the touching piece belied that fact that his father was no longer living.
The ache in her heart grew when the song became lighthearted in nature. She could just imagine his father playing with Sir as a little boy. The love and passion in the music hinted at the beautiful relationship they must have had. Brie wasn’t sure how Sir was able to listen to it without falling apart.
Once it returned to the hauntingly sad melody, she felt Sir’s chest rise and fall in jerky movements and knew he was silently crying. She cried along with him, choking back the sobs as she soaked his shirt with her tears.
Brie instinctively knew there was healing to be gained from his painful release…
Wicked Game
Brie spent every waking hour working on her film the week before she was to present her documentary to Mr. Holloway. This was her last chance with the producer—either he would be satisfied with her changes, or he would withdraw his interest and she would have to start from square one, trying to find someone to take on her project.
There was no way Brie was going to let that happen.
Sir supported Brie in her work, demanding little from her as she poured her soul into the documentary. Not only did he take care of all the meals, but he handled her laundry. It made Brie extremely uncomfortable to see him take over tasks that were hers alone, but when she attempted to help, he reprimanded her harshly.
“Brie, you are disobeying a direct order. I do not want to see you do anything else until that documentary is complete. Do you understand me?”
Brie answered with a miserable, “Yes,” frustrated that she was not only failing to care for her Master, but she had managed to disobey him in the process.
While she worked tirelessly on her project, Sir concentrated on coordinating his business in Russia while still meeting the needs of his American clientele. It kept him busy, but he still made time to visit Master Anderson on a daily basis.
It gave Brie nervous butterflies every time he left. The daily visits meant that Sir was taking his lessons seriously, and soon she would be feeling the sting of his newfound expertise.
Just before he was about to leave for another lesson, the doorbell rang. No one ever visited Sir without prior arrangement. Brie ran to the bedroom to throw something on as Sir went to answer the door.
She was worried it was bad news, but breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that it was Mr. Reynolds, Sir’s uncle.
“Good to see you, Unc,” Sir said, giving him a more heartfelt hug than normal before inviting him in. Mr. Reynolds smiled when he saw Brie, but his reserved manner let her know something was up. She immediately joined Sir on the couch.
“To what do I owe this unexpected surprise?” Sir asked pensively, picking up on Mr. Reynolds’ unusual demeanor.
“I have been visited by…” He paused, as if unwilling to even say her name out loud in front of Sir.
“The beast?” Sir answered for him.
Mr. Reynolds let out a long, anguished sigh and simply nodded.
“What did she want?”
Mr. Reynolds sounded as if he was in pain when he replied, “I’m sorry, Thane.”
Sir’s voice became tense. “Sorry for what?”
“She’s determined to see you.”
Sir snarled. “You know I don’t care what she wants. I refuse to speak to a woman who is dead to me.”
Mr. Reynolds looked at him with an expression Brie could not read. “I would do anything to protect you, but she’s crazy.”
“Did she threaten you?” Sir asked with an eerie calmness, as if it had happened before.
“I’m not worried about us. Thane, I came to warn you. Ruth is determined to see you, no matter the cost.”
“Did she say what she wants?”
“No. I tried to get it out of her to spare you, but she was closed-mouthed about it. Claimed it’s a matter of life and death.”
Sir growled angrily. “There is nothing she can say that I want to hear.” He stood up and started pacing in front of window that overlooked the city. “I want her out of my life, once and for all!”
Mr. Reynolds closed his eyes and groaned. “I know, Thane… I’m sorry for this. For all of it.”
Sir snapped, “It is not your fault!” He recovered his inner calm before continuing, “This has no reflection on you. What is imperative is that we eliminate the problem before she can cause any further damage.”
“How can I help?”
“All I ask is that you do not engage her again. Call the cops if you have to, but do not give her an audience. As long as we present a united front, all her conniving will be for naught.”
Mr. Reynolds looked ill when he told Sir, “The reason I came straight over is that she threatened to head to the school next.”
“The security staff has been apprised of the situation. They will be on the lookout for her. Do not concern yourself.”
Mr. Reynolds said with confidence, “Thane, she will not go quietly.”
“Fuck!” Sir bega
n pacing again. Brie could feel the tension in the room rising to dangerous levels. “She will not ruin my life again. I will not allow it!”
“Sir, what are we going to do?” Brie asked, suddenly afraid for him.
“What am I going to do? I’ll wait until I hear from the Center. It’s possible she’s bluffing and I refuse to react to idle threats.”
No sooner had he spoken than his cell phone rang. Sir looked at the caller ID and frowned. “What is it?” he demanded when he answered the call. “Good God, Rachael. Call the police. I’ll be there as soon as possible. Hopefully, she’ll leave of her own accord.”
Sir snapped the phone closed and asked his uncle, “Will you come with me?”
“Of course. No need to ask.”
Sir turned to Brie. “You’ll stay here. I do not want you getting involved with her again.”
She insisted, “But Sir, my place is by your side.”
“No, Brie. Work on your documentary while I am gone.” Before she could protest, he added, “Obey me.”
Brie held in her objection and watched both men leave the apartment in a rush. What could his mother have done to cause Sir to go against his better judgment?
She sat down with her computer and tried to edit her work, but she couldn’t concentrate. She kept contemplating what was happening at the Center. What kind of mother would threaten her son? What was the woman capable of?
Although Brie appreciated Sir’s protective nature, she wanted to be with him—needed to be with him.
She began pacing the apartment, contemplating driving down to the Center without his permission, until she heard a polite knock on the door.
Brie walked up to it hesitantly. She took a look through the peephole and saw a courier holding a manila envelope.
Brie asked him through the door, “Could you just leave it on the doorstep?”
“No, ma’am—I need a signature from the person it’s addressed to. A Brianna Bennett.”
She immediately thought of Mr. Holloway. “Could you slide it under the door?”
“That’s highly unusual, ma’am.”
“But could you do it anyway?”
The man grumbled as he bent down and forced the envelope under the gap at the bottom of the door. “The pen won’t fit,” he complained.
“Not a problem; I have a pen. Just a sec.”
Brie picked up the manila envelope and looked it over. It was big enough for legal documents and was addressed to her, although she noticed it did not have a return address on it. She went to the desk, signed her name on the slip for the courier and stuffed it back under the door.
He huffed as he bent down to pick it up. Brie peeked through the hole to watch him leave. Despite the man’s obvious irritation, he tipped his hat before he left. “Thank you, ma’am.”
Brie was pleased with the cautious way she had handled the exchange and eagerly tore open the manila envelope. Inside was another envelope, but it was addressed to Thane Davis. His name looked as if it had been written by a woman.
A feeling of nausea came over Brie and she had to sit down. The letter must have come from his mother…
Whatever was written in that letter might reveal the reason she was back. Brie was desperate to find out what it said, wanting to understand what kind of threat this woman posed to Sir.
Brie stared at the envelope for a long time, part of her wanting to destroy it and part of her wanting to secretly read it. There was no part of her that wanted to present the note unopened to Sir, but that is exactly what she did.
When Sir returned home an hour later, he came alone. Although he looked cross, he was no longer irate.
Sir seemed relieved when he saw her sitting on the couch. “Whatever game she was playing, she ran off before I got there. Guess the threat of involving the police was enough.”
Brie looked up at him, unable to hide her guilt.
“What is it, Brie?”
“A letter came while you were gone.”
He looked at her apprehensively. “A letter?”
“I knew better than to open the door, Sir, but I let the courier slip it under. It was addressed to me. I thought it was from Mr. Holloway.”
“But…”
“But when I opened it, there was a letter inside addressed to you.” She glanced at the envelope on the table.
Sir looked at it in disgust and went to the kitchen. He came back and said, striking a match, “Whatever this is, it’s gone now.”
Just before the flame touched the paper, Brie blurted, “But Sir, maybe this will tell you her motive. You said yourself that you can’t prepare to fight her until you know what it is.”
Sir stopped and stared at the envelope, letting the match burn until it singed his fingers. He blew the match out and then set the letter back on the table.
He sat down next to Brie. “The fact it’s here tells me two things. One, she knows where I live and two, she knows that you live here with me.”
“I shouldn’t have signed for the letter, Sir. I’m sorry.” Brie bowed her head, feeling as if she had betrayed his trust.
“It doesn’t matter. The only thing she learned from this little stunt is that you are an extremely trusting individual.” Sir sighed, glancing at the letter again. “Either this will tell me the real reason she wants contact and it will infuriate me, or this is a clever lie she’s concocted, which will infuriate me even more.” Sir rubbed his chin, trying to decide if he wanted to open Pandora’s box.
Finally, he picked it up and ripped the envelope open. He unfolded the letter and glanced at it before throwing it down. “Bullshit!”
Sir stormed out of the room. Brie hesitantly picked up the note to read it, and was shocked to see there were only five words.
I am dying of cancer.
Brie couldn’t believe it. She ran to the bedroom to comfort Sir, but he was still in an uncontrollable rage. When she entered the room, he shouted at her, “That bitch does not have cancer any more than I do!” His laughter was low and angry. “Oh, but isn’t she clever?”
“But what if it is true, Sir?”
He replied coldly, “I wouldn’t care. She should know that. This is her clever way of garnering other people’s sympathies. Look at the poor beast, dying of cancer while her son stands back and does nothing to help. Well, that’s exactly what I plan to do. She can rot in hell. In fact, I would prefer it.”
Brie was taken aback by his wrath.
Sir looked at her and snarled. “This is how she does it. She pits us against each other. She expects me to begin resenting you for giving me the letter, and for you to be horrified that I would react to such news with indifference.”
Brie crossed the room and stood beside him, stating her support in words as well as with her proximity. “There is nothing she can do to tear me away from you, Sir. I understand your righteous anger towards her and I believe you when you say that she’s lying. I stand behind you and support you, Sir.”
“No, Brie.” He pulled her into his embrace. “You stand beside me.”
She wrapped her arms around him. “Nothing can separate a condor from its mate, Sir.”
He lifted her chin and smiled for the first time that night. “Brie, that is the only truth I need. You are a wise little sub.”
She cocked her head. “Wise, Sir? Aren’t I far too young to be described as wise?”
His spontaneous laughter was music to her ears. It delighted her heart to hear it.
Believe
Brie couldn’t stop the buzzing in her ears. After weeks of shooting and retooling her documentary, her time had finally come. She bit her lip and closed her eyes, trying to rein her nerves in.
“Brie, what’s wrong?” Sir asked.
He’d insisted on being with her as she waited to be called in, although he would not be present during the meeting itself. Sir felt it was important this was her success, and hers alone.
“Sir, I’ve never felt like this before. I think I’m going to faint, I’m so ne
rvous.”
He put his hand on her knee and gazed into her eyes, imparting his confidence. “You will not let your fears get the best of you.”
She nodded, needing to hear his reassuring words.
“You have reworked the film to his specifications while remaining true to your vision. The work is better for it. However, if Mr. Holloway chooses to turn it down it will be his loss, for you will find someone to produce it.”
Brie took a deep breath and smiled. “Yes, you’re right, Sir. Someone will pick up my film if Mr. Holloway does not. This film is a winner—I can feel it in my bones.”
“Hold onto that truth and do not let your nerves control you. Be self-assured without being arrogant and you will do well.”
That extra shot of confidence was all she needed. “Thank you, S—”
The receptionist interrupted their conversation. “Mr. Holloway will see you now.”
Sir stood up with Brie and gave her a quick kiss before letting her go. “Knock him dead, Brie.”
She let out a nervous sigh and then shook her head. No! My nerves are not going to control the moment. Brie consciously released the tension and stood up straight, her chest out, her head at a respectful angle.
“That’s my girl,” Sir commented as she walked away.
Everything was perfect until she greeted Mr. Holloway and he barked an order to sit down. The inflection in his voice let her know the man was on edge and irritable. Not at all what she needed for her big moment.
Brie held out her hand and shook his. “Thank you for seeing me again, Mr. Holloway.” To ease the tension in the room, she started off the conversation with a compliment. “As you know, sir, I admire your expertise and took your suggestions to heart as I reworked this film. I trust you will be as impressed with the changes as I am.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” the producer grumbled, grabbing the disk from her hand. He slid it into the player, then sat back in his chair, closing his eyes as if he couldn’t be bothered to watch it.
Brie swallowed hard. It was one thing to be turned down because her work legitimately sucked, but it was quite another to lose out on her chance because the producer was upset about something she had no control over.