“I’ve been practicing with it for weeks now.”
Brie trembled in expectation.
“Are you ready to fly, babygirl?”
She took a deep breath, already feeling the effects of endorphins flowing through her system caused by the simple binding and public display. She closed her eyes, relaxing her muscles as she waited for the beloved stroke of the flogger.
“Keep your eyes open and focused on the people below until I tell you to do otherwise.”
Brie opened her eyes and looked down, smiling inside. He knew her so well—knew that she would have missed the full beauty of the scene he’d so thoughtfully created as a gift to her. He was forcing her to be aware and in the moment, not allowing her to fly so quickly she would miss it.
Before Sir began, he turned on a recording of his father’s music, letting the lone violin start her on the journey.
Brie let out a long, drawn-out moan when the flogger connected with her skin. The heavy thud of the instrument resonated through her entire body.
She was familiar with its touch… It was a replica of the eighty-tailed flogger Marquis had used when they filmed together. She remembered well the all-encompassing sensation and the two-handed stance the instrument required of the yielder. It made sense now why Sir had needed to practice before using the tool.
Brie’s pussy became wetter with each stroke. She could just imagine the way Sir looked as he wielded the mighty instrument and gracefully swung it in the air.
Her eyes rolled back for a moment, the lure of subspace whispering to her. She resisted its call, forcing herself to look across the canal.
A prick of fear coursed down her spine when she saw a man leaning against an iron lamp post, watching her as he casually dragged on a cigarette.
Brie mumbled in her gag, trying to warn Sir.
He only sounded amused when he asked, “What was that again?”
She shook her head, making an “uh, uh uh” sound indicating ‘red’—her preferred safeword.
Sir stopped mid-stroke and came up from behind. “You want me to stop, téa?”
Brie shook her head, but then lifted her chin in the direction of the observer. Sir followed her gaze and then proceeded to chuckle. “I see we have a watcher.” He turned his attention back on Brie. “You know it’s to be expected when a beautiful woman displays herself in a window. Enjoy the attention.”
Before walking away Sir asked, “Do I have permission to continue?”
Even though the watcher made her slightly uneasy, his presence did add an element of the unknown to an already spectacular scene. Because Sir appeared unconcerned, she nodded her consent without further hesitation.
“Good, because I’m about to let you fly.”
Brie swayed in her bonds, the promise of flight making her body weak.
“Keep your eyes on your audience until you’re unable to focus.”
Brie looked down at the stranger as Sir ramped up the strength and speed of his lashings—perfectly timed so that she could anticipate each one, using the volley of continuous strokes to advance herself ever closer to blessed flight.
Her body shook with each contact, and she wondered what the man below could possibly be thinking. Unlike Faelan, who immediately called the authorities when he saw Brie bound and gagged, this man did not seem concerned. Was it possible he knew exactly what was going on, that he might be a part of the BDSM lifestyle himself?
It didn’t matter.
Brie was far too close to subspace to prevent what was about to happen. With Sir’s permission already given she willingly dived into the sweet abyss. Although she remained partially aware of her surroundings, they became mixed with the delicious feeling the flogger evoked until all became one—all thought stopped as sensation took over.
“Téa… Téa, focus on my voice. It’s time to come back to me.”
Brie smiled as she slowly blinked her eyes open with great effort. She looked up at her beloved Master and said gruffly, “I’m back.”
His lips curled into a pleasant smile. “That was deeper than I expected.”
“Must have been the skill of the man behind the instrument.”
She realized she was lying on the bed, and turned her head to look at the window where she’d been tied up. “Is the watcher still there?”
“No. I took you down almost an hour ago.”
“It’s been that long?”
“It has, babygirl. I guess you were well overdue for a long flight.”
She purred. “It was heaven, Sir.”
“Although I am glad, I have more planned for us tonight. Now I’m doubting if you can handle it.”
She attempted to sit up in the bed to prove she was ready and able to handle anything he had planned. However, her muscles were slow to respond despite her eagerness, not fooling Sir in the least.
“Maybe a little food would perk me up?” she suggested, not wanting to miss out on the evening’s festivities.
“A nutritious indulgence is in order,” he agreed.
Sir picked up the hotel phone, speaking to the desk clerk in Italian. Afterwards, he got off the bed and walked over to their bag, tossing something to her nonchalantly.
“Better get dressed before the hotel staff arrives. No undergarments permitted.”
Brie grinned as she stood up feeling more alert already, excitement coursing through her at the promise of further play. She made her way to the bathroom and squealed in delight when she saw the antique claw-foot tub.
“I love it!” she cried through the open door. “This place is pure perfection.”
Sir said nothing, so Brie hurried to freshen up before slipping on the dress he’d given her. It wasn’t until the light material slid down her body that Brie realized it was a new dress—another gift from him.
Brie stared in the mirror in awe. The dress was white chiffon, a simple cut with a flared skirt. It was modest in style, but the innocence of it was deceptively sexy, especially since she was wearing nothing underneath.
Her nipples protruded flirtatiously under the thin material, making her feel and look deliciously naughty. Brie untied the white lace in her hair used to secure her braid, and fluffed out her long curls.
She used the length of lace as a headband to hold back the hair from her face and fashioned the ends into a pretty bow. Now she looked the absolute picture of innocence.
Brie walked back out of the bathroom and said shyly, “Master?”
He looked up and warmed the room with his smile. “Yes, my goddess?”
“Thank you for my beautiful new dress.”
Sir held out his arms and she glided into them. “You look absolutely fuckable in that dress, téa.”
Brie blushed at his praise.
He was leaning down to plant a kiss on her lips when there was a knock on the door.
“Excuse me.” Sir walked to the door and opened it to the server. The young man came in asking Sir where he wanted the tray, but when he saw Brie, the server momentarily halted. He starred at her for several moments before regaining his senses and placing the tray on the table. He quickly retreated to the door, closing it behind him without waiting for his tip.
“It appears I am not the only one who thinks you’re fuckable.”
Brie giggled. “Must be this room and all the fertility blessings floating about…” She looked down at her pretty dress again and twisted from side to side. “Or maybe this dress had something to do with it.”
Sir pulled her to him, growling, “No to all of the above. It has everything to do with the woman inside the dress.”
He kissed her with such passion that Brie felt butterflies. Instead of throwing her on the bed and taking her, Sir leaned over and lifted the silver lid on the tray, revealing a bowl of fresh strawberries.
“I remember how much you enjoyed these during our bet, téa.”
She smirked. “You do realize I’m not in need of an aphrodisiac.” Then she added in a more seductive voice, “You see, Master, I
’m already quite desperate for your…” She kissed him on the lips before continuing. “Hard…” Moving slowly to his ear, she finally whispered, “Cock.”
Sir pressed his hand against his growing erection, shaking his head. “The idea is to build on that feeling—to increase our libido.” He took one of the pieces of fruit and held it to her mouth. “For your health and escalating sexual appetite.”
“Cruel Master…” she complained, opening her lips to him.
“Take your medicine like a good girl,” he murmured when she bit into the succulent fruit. As Brie chewed, he nuzzled her ear before nipping it teasingly. “Even now I long to fill you up until you scream for mercy.”
She groaned, her pussy aching for him. “No more, Sir. I need you.”
He picked up another strawberry. “Yes, more. Take everything I give you tonight, for I promise a thorough fucking at the end.” He leaned down and whispered hoarsely, “Like nothing you’ve experienced, téa.”
Brie moaned as she closed her eyes. Despite the electrical hum of desperation and desire she felt for him, she answered dutifully, “If it pleases you, Master.”
“It does please me,” he replied with a wicked grin. “Finish the strawberries while I get dressed. We have a formal event we’ve been invited to and I don’t want to be late.”
Brie watched as Sir undressed. His body still mesmerized her—the dark hair on his chest, the toned muscles of his stomach, those strong protective arms and his masculine thighs…
She had to stop looking or she was afraid she might possibly implode.
Brie got up, searching through the overnight bag for her makeup, but when Sir realized what she was doing, he stopped her. “No, keep your face just as it is. You have no need to improve on perfection.”
“Aww…that so sweet of you to say.”
“I mean it. There is nothing that could add to your beauty.”
She put her hands to her heart in adoration of his praise.
“Except, of course, my cock inside your pussy.”
Knowing that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, she murmured, “Evil—you are pure evil, Master.”
Sir laughed as he adjusted his tie and buttoned up his jacket.
“So, Sir, if this is a formal gathering, may I ask why I’m naked underneath my dress?”
Sir’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “Why indeed?”
Brie fed Sir the last remaining strawberry, wanting to return the favor, but ended up teasing herself in the process as she watched Sir open his lips and lick it before he consumed the red fruit.
Evil to the core…
Before they left the room, Sir instructed her to bring the golden box and answered her question before she even had a chance to ask.
“It’s required for entrance, my dear.”
The Masquerade
As Sir guided her through the busy streets of Venice, he explained in hushed tones, “The most romantic city in the world also happens to be one of the kinkiest.”
Brie’s eyes widened as she looked around in surprise. “Really?”
He nodded. “Tonight we will be visiting one of the many underground clubs that only Italians are invited to.”
She giggled nervously. “But I’m not Italian, Sir.”
“Ah, but you’re married to one, Mrs. Davis,” her husband answered with a wink.
Brie walked beside Sir with a sense of curiosity as she took extra note of the locals working in the shops and restaurants around her. She’d never known that Venetians were such a kinky people. It made the place feel more like home to her.
She squeezed Sir’s hand, “I think I love Venice even more now.”
Sir took her through a maze of streets and passageways until they came to a row of what looked to be apartments. There was one door painted a vibrant green. He knocked on it three times, paused and knocked twice more.
After several moments, the door opened. A young woman smiled warmly when she saw the golden package Brie was holding. The lady took it from her and invited them both inside. “Buonasera.”
“The woman wished us a good evening, téa. Tell her ‘salve’. It’s a formal hello.”
Brie bowed slightly and repeated the word, trying to match Sir’s Italian accent.
The woman’s eyes twinkled as she opened the box and handed them each one of the masks. Brie was stunned by the elegant white mask she was given. It shone with a thousand diamond-like stones, placed carefully to create intricate patterns of ivy. The cut of the openings for the eyes was sensually feminine, with tiny dark stones set around the upper eye openings to mimic long eyelashes.
“Let me tie it for you, téa.” Sir offered.
She lifted the mask to her face and felt a sexual surge when he inadvertently touched her while tying it on.
“Turn around and let me look at you,” he commanded.
Brie turned to face him and was humbled by the look of admiration she saw in his eyes.
“You, my dear, make the perfect virgin princess.”
Brie blushed and urged Sir to don his. She was slightly disappointed that his mask was a simple design—a basic black eye mask with no jeweled accents and nothing to set it apart. However, she had to admit that the color of the mask did complement his handsome face with his dark Italian hair and the sexy five-o’clock shadow covering his jaw. It gave him an air of mystery she found quite alluring.
The woman retied the empty box and placed it on a table that was already full of them. Brie was shocked, wondering how many Italians were attending this private event.
Their hostess smiled graciously as she ushered them up the stairs.
“How formal is this event, Master?” Brie asked nervously as she climbed the many steps.
“There is no reason to worry, téa. There are no sadists or traditionalists at this gathering, only people who wish to connect on a deeper level.”
It was a great relief to Brie knowing she wouldn’t have to worry about strict protocol. It was distracting to constantly concern oneself about inadvertently looking a Dom in the eye or failing to keep the proper distance behind one’s Master.
When they reached the top step, the area opened up to reveal a room full of exquisitely dressed people, all wearing elaborate masks that kept their faces hidden.
The room itself was covered in plush purples and rich golds, from the couches, wall coverings and drapes, to the paintings on the ceilings. All of it gave off an aura of intrigue and elegance. It felt to Brie as if she’d stepped back in the time to the days of lords and ladies of old.
Their hostess announced them to the gathering. “Presentando il figlio del Maestro Alonzo Davis e la sua nuova sposa Brianna.”
The assembly clapped as one of the men broke off from a small group and walked over to speak with them. He held out his hand to Sir. “It is an honor to have you and your new bride join us tonight, Sir Davis.”
“The honor is mine, Signore Savino.”
Brie was surprised to hear the man speak English when all she heard around her was Italian. Remembering her manners, she bowed her head and said, “Grazie, Signore Savino.”
He eyed her appreciatively. “You are a pretty little thing. I can see why Sir Davis was so quick to claim you.”
“Téa is like my father in spirit. A positive force.”
It was the first time Sir had ever compared her to his father. Brie was deeply moved, but could only respond with a squeeze of her hand.
“Then you are fortunate, Sir Davis. A beauty in body and soul.”
“I quite agree. Don’t let us disturb your prior conversation. Please return to your guests,” Sir stated.
Signore Savino nodded amiably. “Everyone knows who you are, so feel free to join any group. We are all pleased you have joined us tonight.” The distinguished gentleman turned to Brie and took her hand to kiss it. “I hope you enjoy your evening, Mrs. Davis. I know Dante is looking forward to connecting with you.”
Brie smiling politely, but shot a surprised look in Sir?
??s direction when the man turned away.
Sir’s confident expression eased her misgivings. She knew he had planned this night around her so there was no reason to worry—only to anticipate.
He led Brie to a group of three on the other side of the room. She did not miss the lustful glances in her direction as they passed through the crowd. Her nipples contracted in response to the attention, garnering second and third glances.
Having Sir by her side meant she could thoroughly enjoy the silent admiration of the other guests. It was what Sir desired, so she held her head high but at a respectful angle, confident in the knowledge she was his and his alone.
Being a strictly Italian event, it made sense to Brie that Italian was spoken. However, it left her oblivious to the many conversations, although she did smile and nod whenever people laughed, wanting to feel a part of the group.
It was at that moment Brie decided it was her duty to learn the language. With a husband of Italian descent who was proud of his heritage, it only made sense she should become fluent in it.
She looked to the floor, smiling to herself, having determined to do it in secret so she could surprise Sir. The thought of the expression on his face when she answered him with perfect clarity and pronunciation made her giddy with joy.
Sir interrupted her thoughts by asking, “This young man just asked what has you smiling so. I must admit that I’m curious as well.”
Brie looked up to see a young man with wavy brown hair and dark brown eyes standing to the left of her. She noted he was wearing a mask similar to hers in color and shape.
She answered Sir, not wanting to lie to him but also hoping not to spoil her future surprise, “I was just thinking what a lovely language Italian is. It sounds so beautiful, like music rolling off the tongue.”
Sir repeated her words to the man. He nodded to her in answer, a slight smile on his lips. He said something back to Sir and waited for him to translate.
“He would agree,” Sir said, “but adds that the Italian language is not just about the words spoken. It’s about the expression of the hands.” Brie didn’t miss the glint in Sir’s eyes as he repeated the young man’s reply.