Brie's Submission (4-6)

By: Red Phoenix


She shook her head against his chest, not buying it.

He murmured seductively, “I can help you learn to enjoy the pain.”

She had no doubt he had the ability, but it was not what she desired. Brie worried Sir would be disappointed as she walked behind Rytsar back to her Master.

Sir immediately put down his work and stood up when they entered the room. “How was the experience?” he asked Brie.

Her bottom lip trembled in answer.

He turned to Rytsar with a look of concern. “How did she fare, Durov?”

“It was a decent beginning.”

Sir looked her over again, his eyes unreadable.

Rytsar kissed the back of Brie’s hand before returning her to Sir’s care. She dropped to the floor and bowed stiffly before the Russian Dom. “Thank you, Rytsar Durov.”

He nodded his acknowledgement and slapped Sir on the shoulder. “Trainable, but no masochist.”

“I suspected as much,” Sir replied evenly.

Rytsar bade them goodbye and left them to their own devices.

Sir helped Brie off the floor and smoothed her worried brow with his fingers. “That is fortunate news, téa, for I am no sadist.”





Performance





Rytsar spent the daylight hours while they were there taking the two all over Moscow, introducing them to the cuisine, the culture, and national treasures like St. Basil’s Cathedral in Red Square, and the quiet grandeur of the Novodevichy Cemetery. Brie was amazed by the history represented all around her and the many riches to be found in the numerous museums. However, it was the smiles of the Russian people she treasured most. She had expected stoic faces greeting her on the crowded streets, but she was met by grins and snatches of English wherever she went.

Sir had specifically instructed her to act vanilla outside the confines of Rytsar’s home. “I want you to interact with the culture. It will serve you well in your career. Experience the nuances of every culture you encounter.”

That freedom allowed Brie to fully drink in the foreign environment. She smelled, touched and tasted everything she could, and interacted with anyone who gave her a sideways glance.

When they weren’t sightseeing, they were enjoying the unique entertainment provided by their host. Rytsar spared no expense showing his good friends all that Russia had to offer, including a private performance of a well-known Russian opera. However, there was a condition to admission to this particular performance.

As Sir zipped up her sleek, crystal-studded gown, he casually mentioned to Brie, “Durov has asked you and me to entertain his guests this evening.”

She waited until he’d finished to turn around and ask him, “I thought we were going to an opera, Sir?”

“We are. Our performance takes place after the show.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “What kind of performance?”

He turned her back towards the mirror, looking at her in the reflection. “Durov has asked us to scene together. He wishes his comrades to observe a different type of power play. Durov was greatly influenced by what he observed visiting America as a college student.”

Sir had insisted she wear her hair up for the evening, giving him free access to her neck. He kissed the nape of it tenderly. “It changed the flavor of Durov’s sadism, so to speak.”


“May I ask how, Sir?”

Sir looked at her thoughtfully. “Suffice to say, his partner’s satisfaction is of consequence to him now. It was not always the case.”

Brie lowered her gaze, a shudder going through her. She had watched Rytsar scene several times since her session with him. He was hard on his submissives, sometimes frighteningly so, but he knew how to please them and he was affectionate afterwards. What he had been like before, she could only imagine.

It made her think, though… All of Rytsar’s friends were sadists. The submissives they played with were experienced masochists.

“Is something wrong?” Sir asked.

She forced herself to reply, even though she was reluctant to voice her inadequacy to him. “Sir, I am but a child compared to the submissives these men are used to.”

“Do you put down my sub so easily, téa?”

Brie bowed her head, smiling to herself. How easy Sir made it to be his. “No, Master.”

“Tonight we will play out a short scene of my choosing. Nothing elaborate. Just a Master playing with his sub for the pleasure of others.”

She nodded, still looking at the floor.

“Téa.”

She looked up, gazing into his warm, confident eyes as he turned her back around. “All that is required is that you please me. No one else in the room matters.”

Brie breathed in his truth. No one else matters…



Sir escorted her down to the front row of the mini-theatre in Rytsar’s mansion, so that all the men in attendance could admire her. Brie’s nipples instantly became erect in response to their intense stares. Everyone knew they were the entertainment for the evening—after the opera.

Brie sat down with practiced poise in between Rytsar and Sir. The Russian nodded to her pleasantly, but said nothing. He lifted his finger and the lights dimmed just before the curtains opened.

Sir leaned towards her and whispered, “This is the Russian opera Ruslan and Lyudmila. It’s one of the few Russian operas that are more…fanciful in nature.” He kissed her cheek. “I think you will enjoy it, téa.”

He was acting as if they were simply there to enjoy the performance, so she followed his example and focused solely on the opera. Brie was enthralled by the lavish costumes and extravagant sets that graced the stage. The actors must have been true performers because their voices were exceptional, ringing strong and true. The same could be said of the talented musicians. Rytsar had not provided a simple home performance; this was on par with any Broadway show.

Brie held her breath when the flying dragon appeared on the stage. The huge creature was made of billowing bolts of gold silk. It was enchanting and otherworldly. But she was horrified when the opera took a brutal turn, making her question Sir’s assurance she would enjoy it. It wasn’t until the final act that all was made right. The ending was wonderful and sweet, the way only fairytales can be.

Brie clapped her hands zealously when the curtains finally closed.

“I see that you enjoyed yourself,” Rytsar commented with satisfaction.

“Very much, Rytsar Durov. It was…magnificent.”

“I would have to agree,” Sir interjected. “You surpassed my expectations.”

“Not an easy thing to do, peasant,” the Russian replied, laughing. “But I was determined.”

“It’s an experience I will never forget,” Brie exclaimed. “Never!”

“I hope to say the same of your performance.”

Brie suddenly felt lightheaded. She was about to scene in front of the prominent Doms of Moscow.

“Without the expensive costumes and sets, all eyes will be on you,” Rytsar continued. “Not exactly fair, is it?”

“None of it is necessary,” Sir replied matter-of-factly. “In fact, I would go as far as to say it is not the action itself, but the intention behind it, that truly carries a scene.”

Sir tilted Brie’s chin up with his finger, giving her a lingering look that said clearly, I lead, you follow. She nodded in understanding and then proceeded to melt when his firm lips met hers. She stood up with renewed confidence when Sir offered his hand.

Rytsar led them out of the theater and across the hall. Servants on either side of two massive wooden doors opened them as the group approached. Brie swallowed nervously as she passed through the doorway into the unusual room. The floor was made of dark wood a shade just shy of midnight and glossed to a perfect sheen. A long, red carpet made a path to a small, low-lying table made of gold in the center of the large room.

The table itself was encircled by unlit candles lining the floor. As she walked towards it, she noted the single line of chairs had been set six feet back, surrounding the table in a horseshoe pattern. The unusual seating allowed not only for the unobstructed view of the table, but also of a huge mirror on the opposite wall.

Brie began trembling as Sir guided her to the table. She had to step over the barrier of candles that separated them from the audience. Sir placed his hands on her shoulders, turning her towards the mirror. “Look at me, téa.” She looked into the reflection as the men gathered and sat down. She understood now—the mirror was there to enhance the experience for both the participants and the observers.

He whispered in her ear, “Focus on your Master.”

As she looked at Sir in the mirror, her confidence returned. When all of the gentlemen were seated, the doors closed and Brie heard the distinct sound of a large metal bar sliding into place. It added a thrill of fear, knowing they were locked in. For better or worse, she was to remain until the scene was complete. Thankfully, she was in Sir’s trusted hands.

Rytsar spoke to the group in Russian. After his speech, he repeated it in English for their benefit. “We have come tonight to enjoy the unique performance of Sir Davis and his submissive, téa. They have witnessed our brand of dominance and have consented to share a scene of their own. Sit back and enjoy their unique dynamic.”

Rytsar nodded to Sir before he sat down. The circle of Doms was so near that she could hear their subtle movements and even smell their various colognes. It was unsettling to have the audience so close. Brie looked into the mirror again. Sir…