“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.”
She closed her eyes. “Yes. You’re right, Sir.”
“Of course I am,” he answered.
She snuck a peek and was relieved to see his expression was relaxed, not angry. When he motioned Brie to his lap, she literally jumped up and ran to him. He gathered her into his arms, and chuckled. “When Marquis told me the only things he was able to teach you to cook were an omelet and spaghetti, I had to laugh.”
“Don’t tell me you hate spaghetti, too?” she whimpered.
“I am not a fan of tomatoes.”
“Oh…” she said dejectedly. Brie rested her chin on his strong shoulder and sighed. “You are going to starve because of my cooking.”
His answer was quick. “No. Unlike you, I know how to cook.”
She gasped, but noted the glint in his eye. “I’d say that is below the belt, Sir.”
“It’s the ugly truth.”
Brie grabbed her stomach and grunted loudly. “It hurts, it hurts…”
Sir swatted her bottom. “You are fortunate I do not eat breakfast. Thankfully, that is one less meal you can ruin.”
She basked in Sir’s playful mood and traced his masculine jaw before kissing him. “Thank you, Sir, for hating breakfast. Is there any way I can make up for my lack of culinary talent?”
He furrowed his brow, stating, “No. There is nothing you can do to make up for your atrocious cooking skills.”
She pouted prettily, smoothing out the wrinkles from his frown with her fingertips. “Are you sure?”
He snorted. “You will find your feminine charms have little effect on your Master.”
Brie gave up and buried her head in his chest, mumbling, “I guess I’m hopeless.”
He stroked her long hair and replied in a deceptively soothing voice, “Useless, yes, but not hopeless.”
His sense of humor was brutal and she loved it. Brie was about to object, when he gave her a direct command. “Take a quick shower and ready yourself for me.”
Those words were music to her ears. “My pleasure, Sir!” she replied, jumping off his lap and heading straight for the shower.
Lesson Three: A Matter of Ego
In less than a half hour Brie was washed, shaved, and primped. She opened the bathroom door and called out his name. “Sir?”
He answered with a low, sultry, “Come,” from the front of the apartment. Brie glided over the smooth marble, wanting to make a favorable impression. Since she wasn’t capable of cooking, she damn well would make up for it with her other skills. Man does not live on bread alone!
Sir was waiting for her beside the red chaise with a silver chain in his hand. She followed the trail of links down and saw that it was attached to a leg of the chair. “Kneel before me, téa.”
Kneel before me, goddess…
Sir certainly had a way with words. Brie bowed before him and willingly accepted the cuff he secured around her ankle. “You will not be released until the lesson has been learned.”
She looked up at him questioningly. “What lesson, Master?”
He smiled. “That is for you to figure out.”
Brie had to hide her frustration. Mr. Gallant’s upfront method of teaching was so much easier and involved a much smaller chance of failure.
Sir read her like a book. “You are no longer at the Training Center. Lessons will not be spoon-fed to you. Growth must be earned.”
She bowed low, her head touching the floor. “I understand, Master.” Then she added softly, “But I don’t want to fail you.”
Brie squealed when he picked her up. He held her so that she was eye to eye with him. “You cannot fail unless you are unwilling to try.”
“Yes, Master.”
His intense look communicated confidence in her abilities, and her fears receded. He set her back on the ground and slipped off his boxers.
Sir lay down on the lounger and motioned her to him. The clinking sound of the chain echoed through the room as she moved to straddle him. She couldn’t help thinking of her Auction Day when she’d played Captain’s pet. It brought a smile to her lips, but she let go of the memory. Brie looked down at her handsome Dom now, her heart bursting with pride that she was his—and his alone.
The red lounger was so narrow that both her feet touched the floor when she straddled him. It was a different position already, heightening the sense of adventure the chain already inspired.
“This first part of the lesson is easy. Make love to your Master.”
Her eyes widened as she realized he was giving her free rein over his body. “Anything I want, Master?”
“Unless I tell you to stop.”
Brie immediately leaned over to kiss him. All those weeks in class she had watched those lips, fantasized about them, and now they were hers for the taking. She lightly brushed her mouth against them, and was thrilled when he closed his eyes and groaned in response.
It seemed decadent to kiss him like that—like eating fine chocolate. She should show some restraint, some level of sophistication, but she could not. Brie kissed him over and over again. Sir met her enthusiasm by running his hands over her body, further igniting her hunger for him.
“I love you, Master,” she declared, finally burying her face in his neck and breathing his manly scent. Sir was a combination of masculine musk with a hint of sweet like a summer’s day; no artificial scents covered up his intoxicating smell. Brie took another long sniff, purring softy. However, she could not ignore the hard shaft cradled between her lower lips.
Brie rubbed herself against him, loving the feel of his stiff cock pressed against her sensitive clit. She used it, shifting her pelvis to enjoy different angles without letting the head of his cock slip inside. Sir did not object. He seemed to enjoy watching her pussy coat his manhood with her abundant excitement.
Alas, there was only so much self-teasing she could take. Brie lifted herself up and positioned his handsome cock so that it barely touched her opening. She teased herself for a little longer by not settling down onto his rigid manhood. She leaned over to kiss his
lips again, savoring the agony of being so close to satisfaction, but delaying her own pleasure…and his.
Sir put his hands on her hips and squeezed her buttocks, but to her surprise he did not thrust. He continued to let her control the level of torturous penetration. His level of restraint did Brie in, and she ever so slowly, millimeter by millimeter, lowered herself onto his shaft. The unique chair gave her a level of control she hadn’t experienced before.
Brie moaned loudly when her pussy hit the base of his cock. All of Sir. Inside her. While they kissed. Pure, unadulterated heaven.
“Damn, woman, you feel good,” Sir said hoarsely.
Brie kissed him again, reveling in the fact her body was pleasing to Master. She began to move up and down his thick shaft, using the power of her legs. Sir helped guide her with added force so that each stroke was fully realized. No movement was wasted, making it incredibly intense.
She cried out as time after time his cock surged into her, filling her completely. He began thrusting faster as he threw his head back. A low groan rumbled in his chest.
Oh, God!To watch Sir come…
He suddenly stopped and held her hard against his rigid manhood. The pulses that had been building inside her could not be halted. She bit her lip, having not been given permission to orgasm. He opened his eyes and grinned as he started the thrusting motion again. It distracted her enough to stave off the climax.
She let out a small gasp, remembering his previous lesson. Even my orgasms answer to him. She trembled at his control.
Brie leaned over to give him another kiss, but felt her pussy contract when his tongue parted her lips. She had to pull back. Brie closed her eyes. Do not come. Do not come.
Sir’s hands glided over her skin, caressing her stomach before moving up to her breasts. He flicked the nipples with his thumbs as he squeezed her ample breasts. “You’re breathtaking, téa.”
She automatically responded to his praises by kissing him again. This time he grasped the back of her neck as he parted her lips, claiming her mouth. She instinctively struggled to get out of his embrace in an effort to prevent what was about to happen.
“Relax,” he whispered between kisses.
The instant she let down her defenses, her orgasm crashed over her. It was powerful, having been denied before. Her pussy continued to pulse long after her climax had ended.
Sir released her and grabbed her hips again. She followed his lead, moving slowly up and down his shaft, whimpering softly because of the sensitivity of her freshly-come pussy. He threw his head back again, closing his eyes and groaning loudly. Through gritted teeth he told her, “When I tell you to stop, don’t move.”
“Yes, Master,” she breathed.
Brie watched Sir intently as his whole body stiffened. “Stop,” he grunted as he pushed deep into her. She braced her hands against his chest and became still. He clenched his jaw, breathing heavily. Sir opened his eyes just before the spasms began. It was incredibly hot to gaze into Sir’s eyes as he came deep inside her.
Afterwards, he turned her around without disengaging (a hidden benefit to the oddly shaped chair) and wrapped his arms around her—one around her waist, while his other hand rested comfortably around her neck in a possessive embrace. Brie closed her eyes and drank in his loving ownership.
They lay like that, in a state of peaceful harmony, for what seemed like hours. There was nothing but the beauty of now and Sir’s embrace. He let out a long, satisfied sigh.
Her body flushed in response. Connecting like this with Sir was amazing, and it made her crave even more intimacy with him. Questions pricked her consciousness and she broke the pleasant silence by asking the one foremost in her mind. “Master, may I ask about your father now?”
She felt his whole body tense, but he answered evenly. “Yes.”
“How did he die, Sir?”
He paused for a second. “My father committed suicide.”
Brie felt her heart crush inward. The mood in the room had completely changed with his revelation. “I shouldn’t have brought it up. I’m sorry, Sir.”
“No.” He sighed quietly. “It’s important you know. Continue.”
“Thank you, Sir.” She paused before asking her next question, not wanting to upset him. “How old were you?”
“Fifteen.”
Her sympathy poured out to him as she imagined what it must have been like to lose his father at such a pivotal age in his life. “What about your mother, Sir?”
His voice dropped an octave. “She is dead to me.”
Brie shivered and stopped the line of questioning. She squeezed the arm he had wrapped around her middle.
Sir continued of his own volition, “My father was…extremely talented, a world class violinist.” He readjusted himself, holding her tighter. He added, almost as an afterthought, “An unusually gifted musician who was idolized by his fans.”
Brie imagined an Italian hunk with dark hair and dark, soulful eyes, standing on stage alone, playing for an enraptured audience. She couldn’t help wondering how that had affected Sir growing up. Had he been close to his father or had the man been absent from his life? Had the constant traveling caused an estrangement between his mother and father? There were so many questions to ask, but at the moment she felt only empathy for Sir and remained silent.
His voice was distant when he spoke again. “I still find it difficult to believe he’s gone. Such a force in the world. How can that disappear as if it never existed?”
Brie suddenly felt inadequate, not knowing what to say but feeling a need to break the deafening silence. “Death is cruel, Sir.”
“Have you lost someone?” he asked quietly.
“Yes, my grandfather when he was eighty. Nothing as great as your loss, Sir.”
He tightened his hold on her. “Good. I would not wish that on anyone.”
She decided her words would be useless, so she rested her head against his chest and surrounded him with loving thoughts instead.
He spoke a few minutes later. “Suicide is brutal.”
“I can’t think of anything worse,” she answered softly.
“No, neither can I… That last image of him is seared in my brain and I will never be free of it.” He snarled under his breath and abruptly lifted Brie off him. The chain rattled as he placed her feet on the floor. “Let’s return to your lesson, my wayward sub.”
Sir stood up and formally kissed her on the forehead, as if it were part of a ritual. He then pulled a mat out from under the Tantra chair and laid it down beside her. His voice changed, once again unruffled and commanding. “Kneel. Legs closed, hands behind your head so that your breasts are displayed.”
After the command Sir walked away from her, his tight ass flexing as he moved. Despite the seriousness of his mood, she couldn’t prevent herself from admiring it. The man was majestic naked.
Brie obediently lowered herself to the mat, wondering if she had been wrong to say anything. She looked out of the window at the clouds drifting in the sky and tried not to second guess herself.
When she heard the shower, she found herself imagining Sir’s hands running over his muscular body as he lathered up. How she wished she could join in the fun. Brie sighed, wanting to free Sir from the taint her questions had caused.
He returned to her, fully dressed, and picked up his house key off the counter. “I have a few errands to run, including retrieving your car and purse from the Training Center. Thankfully, Marquis thought to lock your handbag in the safe.”
Brie had totally forgotten about those mundane, but exceedingly important, details. “That is kind of you, Sir.”
“Kindness has nothing to do with it, téa. I have assigned you a task. Therefore, I will take care of this while you complete it.”
“Yes, Sir,” she answered meekly.
“Remain in this position until I get back. You are only allowed to release yourself to use the restroom. Be prepared to tell me the lesson I am teaching you with this.”
Brie bowed her head in answer.
“And téa?”
She looked up timidly.
“Asking about my father was not an error on your part. If I hadn’t wanted you to know, I would not have spoken of it.”
She smiled up at him gratefully. “Thank you, Sir.”
Sir nodded and left the apartment, shutting the door quietly behind him. Brie sighed as the electricity of his presence left with him, leaving behind an emptiness that weighed upon her.
Brie was unsure why Sir was having her practice kneeling again, but she felt certain it was not meant as a punishment. It concerned her that the purpose of the lesson eluded her, especially since Sir expected an explanation upon his return.
Worrying about it wasn’t producing answers, so Brie closed her eyes and thought of her friend, Lea. Brie wondered what the bubbly jokester was doing the day after graduation. Probably sleeping in…
If Lea had to guess what Brie was up to, she would never believe Brie was enduring another kneeling lesson. It had been their first kneeling lesson at the Training Center that had marked the beginning of the girls’ friendship. That day, Lea had cracked jokes when they’d been ordered to kneel quietly. Brie had chosen to stand up for her, despite Marquis’ threat to punish Brie for Lea’s transgression. All because Mary had decided to tattle.
Mary…
Brie’s lips curled into a snarl. She could not believe the bitch had attempted to steal Faelan from her on the night of graduation. It was low, even by Mary’s standards. But then, Mary had always gone after any Dom Brie had shown an interest in. Up until last night, Brie had been willing to forgive her, knowing that Mary was a hurting unit who desperately needed a friend. Brie had been foolish enough to believe that over the six-week course she’d been able to break through the barriers Mary had put up and develop a real friendship with the woman.
Yeah… I’m a freakin’ idiot!
She’d been completely blindsided, never suspecting that Mary would betray her so brazenly. Brie would never forget the shock of seeing Faelan enter Mary’s room, or the sounds of the bitch’s cries of passion during their ‘interview’ together.
Thank God for Marquis...