Brie's Submission (4-6)

By: Red Phoenix


“I take it as a good sign. The unresolved issues between you two need to be addressed. It seems the universe agrees and is forcing the issue.”

“Anything but that…” she whimpered.

He said quietly, “You are no longer a child.”

It was humiliating to be put in this position. Mary had wronged her, Mary was the one at fault, but it was Brie who was expected to mend the rift the betrayer had created.

“Brie, let me give you a piece of advice, one I learned after my father’s death. No matter how it may appear to the casual observer, you cannot know the truth unless you know all sides. I would refrain from making judgments until you speak with Miss Wilson directly.”

Brie bowed her head. Yes, Sir knows too well the cost of unjust judgments. His words brought clarity in a sea of doubt and frustration. “I’ll speak to her, Sir. But I already know it’s going to end in disaster.”

Sir chuckled. “I doubt that. I remember seeing the two of you together. There were times of honest camaraderie between you. Don’t be so quick to dismiss that because of one incident you have yet to discuss.”

“You have more faith in her than I do, Sir.”

“My faith lies in you, Brie.”

She stood up and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Thank you, Sir. I needed to hear that.”

His strong arms embraced her and he lifted her off the ground. “You are meant to accomplish great things. To whom much is given, much is expected.” He kissed her firmly on the lips.

Brie melted into his kiss, and laid her head against his chest when he set her back down. “As long as I have you, I know I can’t fail.”

He squeezed her tighter. “I have news of my own, little sub.”

Brie looked up and smiled. “What is it, Sir?”

“One of the business contacts I made in Russia has plans for expansion into America. They’ve asked to meet in New York.”

She was genuinely pleased. “Your dreams of expanding your business are coming true, Sir.”

“Like yours, they are not happening the way I anticipated, and yet a unique opportunity has presented itself.” He traced the collar fastened around her neck and added with a charming smile, “I believe you are my luck.”

His words warmed her heart in ways he could not imagine. For a man who’d struggled in the past to communicate his feelings, Sir was becoming exceptionally expressive.

She squeezed him tighter. “I’m thrilled to hear it, Sir.”

“There is a hitch, however. They are meeting later this week. I’ll need to leave tomorrow to get my contacts set up and presentation ready.”

A cold shiver of realization ran through her. “Will I be going with you, Sir?”

“No, Brie. You don’t have time to spare on another trip. I regret that I cannot be here as support.”

She sat back down on the ledge, trying to keep the tears of disappointment at bay. Brie thought what a funny creature she was—one moment flying high, and the next drowning in despair.

“Brie, do not let this deter you from your goal. Even when I am not near, my love and support are yours.”

He’d said the L word in public without a second thought, his concern for her so great that he wasn’t even aware of it. That one word changed everything in an instant.

She looked up at him, trying not to smile foolishly. “I won’t, Sir. Although I wish you could be here if the meeting with Mary does not go well.”

Always thinking ahead, Sir immediately suggested, “You should take Ms. Taylor with you and present the opportunity to the two at the same time. If Miss Wilson is not receptive, leave with Ms. Taylor. She can act as your moral support and a buffer if you require it.”

Brie nodded, her confidence returning. With her best friend Lea by her side, she could face the Nemesis. Only Lea truly knew the trials she had suffered with Mary, anyway.

“I’d say we are both due a lavish night of celebration, Miss Bennett. Perhaps a quiet Italian dinner by the ocean and a ride along the coast.”

She looked at him demurely. “Whatever is your pleasure, Sir.”

“You are my pleasure, téa,” he said, gathering her back into his arms.



Sir told Brie to pick out an outfit he would like, but added the stipulation there were to be no bra or panties involved. Brie walked into their closet, her eyes widening at the choices. Sir had purchased several outfits she had yet to wear and they were exquisite—and yet…

Brie walked out of the bedroom with a confident stride that spoke of her assurance as a cherished submissive. When Sir saw her, there was a slight moment of obvious surprise, and then his lips curled upwards in pleasure.

“My student.”

Brie glided up to him dressed in her Submissive Training uniform: the leather corset, short skirt and her thigh-highs with six-inch heels. Tonight, per his request, she had forgone the red thong underneath.

“Are you pleased, Master?”

He kissed her in answer, reaching under her leather skirt. Brie ground against his hand. Sir licked his finger afterwards, smiling sensually before picking up a velvet box from the counter.

Inside were the pearls that he’d given Brie the night he’d scened with her as ‘Khan’. Sir placed the strand around her neck, letting it hang between her breasts. “Perfection, téa.”

Sir went to get dressed himself and left her with the instructions, “While you wait, I want you to come up with a use for those pearls tonight.”

Brie played with the pearls around her neck, a sly smile forming on her lips. She knew exactly how she would use them.

It was her turn to look surprised when he came back out. He was dressed in the same tux he’d worn the night he’d collared her. Seeing him walk towards her in the black Italian suit made her knees weak. “You look beautiful, Sir.”

He cocked his head. “Beautiful? That’s not a word I hear often.” He chuckled as he took her evening coat from the hook in the hallway and slipped it over her shoulders. Sir whispered in her ear, “Still my elegant property.”

Brie purred. When she had played out the scene with Sir as her Khan, it had been exciting but full of emotional angst. This time the barriers were gone; she was simply a devoted sub in the hands of her Master.

“I love you, Master.”

He cupped her chin. “I don’t think you know the depth of my feelings for you.”

Chills ran down her spine as she looked into his eyes. Unlike Marquis’ gaze that bored into her soul, Sir’s called to her like a perilous song, inviting her to lose herself completely.

He walked her out of the building to a waiting limousine. She smiled and pressed herself against him as they waited for the chauffeur to open the door. Brie remembered the last limousine ride, one that had been full of passion but had ended in utter frustration.

Not tonight…

Brie slid onto the long, leather bench seat, feeling lightheaded with expectation. Sir joined her, putting his hand on her thigh, but he remained silent. For the entire ride he did not speak. He simply stared at her with a look of longing and some unknown emotion—an almost raw vulnerability. It reminded her of their first time alone together.

Her heart started to race. What could it mean? She met his gaze, asking silently, What are you trying to tell me, Sir?

The limo stopped on the coast at a quiet area of beach. Sir helped her out of the car and escorted her towards the water on a path of red tiles that had been laid out artfully for them. The footpath led to a lone table in the sand, surrounded by fiery tiki torches. A man dressed like a chef stood with a chair pulled out for her.

Brie smiled. “What’s this, Master?”

“A quiet Italian meal by the ocean,” he replied.

Brie sat down at the elegantly set table and stared across it as her Master sat down. This was too much—something extraordinary was happening tonight. She could feel it in her bones.

The chef removed covers from two plates, one with small grilled pieces of bread, and the other with colorful vegetables and a small bowl of oil. Sir pointed to the bread. “Fettunta, spread with olive oil, grilled with garlic rubbed on top. Best garlic bread you’ll ever taste.” He pointed to the other. “Pinizimonio, fresh vegetables to dip in the seasoned olive oil.”

“It looks delicious, Master.”

Sir picked up a slice of bread and consumed it with a look of rapture on his face. Brie was captivated by the vibrant vegetables and took a slice of bright yellow bell pepper, dipping it into the olive oil seasoned with black pepper. She brought it to her lips, trying to look alluring. A drip of oil fell before she could get it into her mouth. It landed on her chest, then rolled slowly under her corset and between her breasts. She looked up, hoping Sir hadn’t noticed. The twinkle in his eyes said otherwise.

“Take off your top, téa.”

Brie ignored the stranger standing beside her and undid the ties, letting her corset fall to the sandy beach. Sir stood up and with his finger, he caught the trail of oil. He lifted his index finger to his lips and licked it off. “I think you would taste good covered in olive oil.”

He sat back down and took a mushroom, dipping it into the oil. Then, smiling at Brie, he devoured it. She blushed. Sir could eat her any way he wanted…

The chef poured them each a glass of wine, before moving back to a grill she hadn’t noticed flaming in the distance until now. Sir was right—her favorite, hands down, was the garlic bread; hard, crunchy, infused with the taste of garlic and the tanginess of olive oil. She had to stop herself from eating the whole plateful. Submissives are not greedy, she reminded herself, even if they secretly want to be.