Brie's Submission (4-6)

By: Red Phoenix

“I’m glad you found a way to move past it, Sir.”

“On the outside it may appear that way, but for most of my adult life I have been emotionally dead. My satisfaction has been in helping others explore their limits, because I have been unwilling to explore mine.”

“And now, Sir?”

In answer, he covered her in a blanket and put the mask over her eyes. “Try to sleep, Brie. I have a feeling Durov is going to keep us entertained from the moment we land.”

Brie woke to Sir’s light touch. “We’re here.”

She popped up in her seat and pulled off the mask, then quickly gathered her things. “I can’t believe it!” she whispered, conscious of the other travelers still snoozing. She was thrilled to be one of the first ones off the plane. Sir led her to the immigration area, where she was confronted with the long lines.

“And this is where we wait,” Sir said with resignation.

Brie pulled out her passport in anticipation, but the lines weren’t moving. She craned her neck to see what the holdup was just as a severe-looking security guard with mirrored sunglasses grabbed the passport from her hand.


Sir tried to take it back, but two similar men showed up. The one with her passport took Brie by the arm, dragging her away. Sir attempted to follow her, but the other two men held him back. He fought against them, but was unable to break free.

“Brie, I will come for you! Don’t do anything or say anything until I find you.”

“Sir!” she cried, reaching out for him.

She was led to a small room filled with black and white monitors. Once they were inside, the door was locked and she was directed to sit down by a daunting woman built like a bulldozer. Brie sat down reluctantly, noticing another male guard behind her. She had no idea what was happening and was tempted to make a break for the door.

The large woman snapped a command Brie did not understand. The woman said it again and tried to spread her legs apart.

Brie fought against her, slapping the woman’s hands away. Are they going to do a body cavity search? She began to panic.

“Nyet!” Brie cried, saying one of three words she knew in Russian.

The male guard behind her leaned in, inches from her face. All she could see was the reflection of her own terrified expression. He said in perfect English, “Open your legs.”

I know that voice!

Brie timidly removed the sunglasses and looked into his piercing blue eyes. “Rytsar.”

He stood up and rocked the room with his laughter. “Radost moya, you recognize your previous Master. I’m impressed.”

Brie glanced at the screens and saw a camera shot of Sir. He was still fighting against the two guards. Rytsar followed her gaze. “Ah, yes. My friend is not happy, is he?”

He nodded to the woman, who immediately left. “I wanted to spare you both the long lines, but… Well, I could not help amusing myself. What do you expect from a sadist?”

A sadist?

She looked at the friendly Russian Dom again, believing he was just making a joke. Brie turned her attention back to the screen and watched as Sir was taken out of the line.

Rytsar’s mirth greeted Sir as he entered the small room. “All is well, moy droog. Your sub has not been touched.”

Sir held out his arms and Brie raced to them, grateful to be in his protective embrace.

“She seems to be satisfied with you. Would not even open her legs for me,” Rytsar said, chuckling.

Sir kissed the top of Brie’s head. “I’d forgotten your propensity for practical jokes. Should have seen this one coming.”

“Yes, I was surprised you did not. However, it was far more amusing that you didn’t.” He smiled charmingly at them both. “Shall we be off, then? I am anxious to introduce you to my friends.”

Brie was surprised to learn that Rytsar lived in an old mansion. She should have suspected it with all the aristocrat talk, but she’d never quite believed it until they pulled up to the large estate. The impressive red brick home even sported narrow turrets, giving it a regal appearance.

“This is really your home?” she asked in awe.

“It has been in the Durov line for centuries,” he replied without arrogance.

Brie glanced at Sir. He seemed unaffected by the grandeur. She decided to take his lead and not react to the splendor of the place, even as they walked through the halls and she saw the gold accents, painted ceilings, and antique furniture begging to be admired.

“Please take a moment to refresh yourselves before you join us in the dungeon. My friends are dying to meet my American comrade and his new sub.”

All Brie heard was the word ‘dungeon’.

“I assume we just head downwards?” Sir inquired.

“Titov will direct you.” Rytsar pointed to a servant, who nodded curtly.

“Fine.” Sir took Brie’s hand and guided her upstairs. Once inside the privacy of the room, Sir gathered her into his arms. “I know this seems a bit much, but I did warn you. Rytsar has eccentric tastes. It’s not too surprising he has his own dungeon.”

Brie thought back to Rytsar’s statement that he was a sadist. It conjured all kinds of frightening scenarios. “Will I be asked to scene, Sir?” she squeaked.

“No. Tonight we are guests and will simply observe. It is no different than visiting one of our clubs back home. I suspect his friends want to show off their various talents. However, you should be aware that Rytsar’s tastes run on the sadistic side. I am sure his friends are of equal bent.”

Brie sighed nervously. Although she had witnessed a few scenes at The Haven, it was not something she had personally sought out. Not having expressed interest in masochism, she had been spared the more sadistic side of BDSM play during her training.

“Take this opportunity to explore new horizons, Brie. It is part of the reason I chose to come here. It is my belief you cannot know your desires or limits unless you expose yourself to them.”

Brie understood Sir’s reasoning and even agreed with it, and yet she still felt uneasy about exploring the darker side of pain.

The Dungeon

The two followed Titov down a long flight of circular stairs. Before they reached the bottom, Brie heard screams echoing from the other side of the door. She swallowed hard and tried to keep a peaceful countenance.

Sir whispered in her ear, “Remember, the subs are masochists. This is their preference.”

Brie nodded as they entered. The cries quickly died down as everyone turned to look at them.

Rytsar’s voice rose over the crowd. “Welcome, moy droog!”

He walked over to greet them both. “We have been waiting impatiently for you.” He turned to the crowd. “Please, continue the entertainment.”

Immediately a whip cracked and a piercing scream filled the air.

Rytsar gestured proudly to the expansive underground room. “I have it all here. The ultimate playground of kink.” Brie glanced around the dark and ominous dungeon. The floor was made of unforgiving stone, the walls of rough brick, and large wooden support beams dotted the room. Attached to the beams were chains and cuffs of various lengths and materials, some of which were already adorned with naked submissives.

In the farthest corner, Brie noticed several large metal cages. But the wall that held a plethora of whips, floggers, canes and other tools—the number of which was staggering—captivated her imagination and left her speechless.

The anguished cry of a submissive grabbed her attention. She glanced around at women bound to St. Andrew’s crosses, benches, or leather swings, being whipped, fucked, or tortured with unknown instruments. Brie struggled to take it all in.

Sir felt her tension and suggested, “Why don’t we visit the scenes individually, Durov? You can explain to my sub what is transpiring.”

“Certainly,” he said, nodding to Brie.

Rytsar guided them over to a woman spread out on a bench, bound by chains. She had a large metal collar around her neck, making it impossible for her to move. “Andreev enjoys subjecting his sub to clitoral torture.” The Dom had already attached nipple clamps, but there was an extra chain that led down to her pussy. He was in the process of pulling back the hood of her clit and attaching the clamp to the loose skin. “Clit exposure allows for more intense play,” Rytsar explained.

The Dom rubbed her naked clit, making the sub whimper pitifully. He then picked up a lit candle and leaned in, licking her erect clit before dripping the wax directly on the exposed sex. The girl screamed, but didn’t call her safe word. Brie saw clearly that her pussy was red and swollen with excitement.

A more lustful cry caught Brie’s attention. She turned to a lanky female chained to a pole being whipped with a cat o’ nine tails. Rytsar grinned. “My personal favorite, the cat o’ nines. Such exquisite torture.”

She struggled to wrap her head around the fact Rytsar was a sadist. He had been demanding but playful the day she’d scened with him. Based on his actions that day, she never would have suspected his underlying need to deliver pain. Brie suddenly realized that what had been a mind-blowing experience for her must have been mere child’s play for him.

As Rytsar continued to show off his dungeon, she kept glancing back at the girl on the pole. Despite her pained screams, the Dom had already made the girl come twice. Brie couldn’t help wondering if she was missing out somehow. All of the women in this dungeon seemed to be thoroughly enjoying themselves despite—or because of—the pain.