by Red Phoenix
Brie felt only sympathy for Mary. In her world of darkness and uncertainty, it was no wonder she found the happiness of others offensive to her.
“Is there anything I can do, Mary?”
“Just finish that fucking documentary about the dead violinist. I can take the heat as long as I know it’s for a good cause.”
“Oh, Mary…”
“Don’t even start with me, bitch,” she growled.
Brie frowned when she heard the dial tone. No one else in the world understood how incredibly selfless Mary was.
Mary Wilson was the strongest woman Brie had ever met, but her power was being crushed under the vile weight of Greg Holloway’s malevolence.
Gifts of the Heart
Feeling a need to bring joy into someone’s life, Brie went on a shopping spree for Autumn with her daughter Hope in tow.
She’d tried to call Autumn on several occasions, but each time, it went straight to voicemail. She wasn’t sure if Autumn was ignoring all of calls or was simply too worried about Tono to deal with them.
Brie could only imagine how much her friend must be suffering, needing to remain strong for Tono without any outside support. Although Brie understood Tono’s reason for keeping his health crisis a secret to protect Faelan, she still hated the thought of Autumn facing the uncertainty all alone.
Having experienced the benefit of the entire community’s support when Sir was teetering on the edge of life or death, Brie knew how much it had helped. Without that support, she wasn’t sure what would have happened to her—or Hope.
Although she couldn’t fly to Korea herself to offer moral support, she wanted Autumn to know she was not alone. Remembering that terrible moment in her own life, Brie spent time thinking about her purchases for Autumn.
As soon as she arrived back home with her many packages, Brie began filling the large wicker basket with the plethora of comfort foods she’d purchased. She added a digital course on learning Japanese that Autumn could take with her wherever she went. Brie had found learning Italian a positive distraction when she had been at the hospital watching over Sir.
Brie also included a huge joke book full of terrible jokes, along with a fluffy blanket for those times when Autumn needed a warm hug. Hope had personally picked out the floppy stuffed bunny to go in the basket. Brie attached a tag to it and wrote, Some bunny loves you. She was certain Autumn would appreciate the silly humor.
Brie also threw in a couple of “gourmet” cans of soup in honor of Master Anderson, knowing how much his hot soup had warmed her soul on those days when she really needed it.
The last item she added to the basket was a picture frame with a photo of the three of them together. Lea stood in the center with her arms draped around Autumn and Brie. Engraved on the frame were the words, “Friends are like bras. Close to your heart and there for support.”
Although Lea was in the dark about what was going on with Tono, Autumn needed to be reminded that Lea was still with her in spirit.
After carefully packing up the basket to be shipped across the world, Brie headed to the post office to have it overnighted. She was well-known at their post office because of her little PO box which was continually overflowing with letters from fans of the first documentary. It amazed Brie that they continued to reach out to her, wanting to express their love of the film and to share how it had changed their lives.
Brie was grateful for every letter, but today it left her feeling a little melancholy knowing the second film—which was even more powerful than the first—might never see the light of day.
“Oh, Mrs. Davis, let me help you with that,” Polly called out when Brie walked up to the counter kicking the large box with her foot.
Polly ran through the counter’s swinging gate and grabbed the heavy box off the floor for her.
“Thanks so much, Polly.”
While Brie was paying her to ship it, Polly exclaimed, “Something just arrived for you from Italy. Let me get it for you!” She went into the back and returned holding a beautiful sapphire box.
“I wonder what it could be?” Brie asked in excitement, taking the box from her.
“I don’t know, but it’s got to be something special. We’ve never seen a shipping box this pretty before.”
A smile spread across Brie’s face when she saw the name of the company in gold print on the box—“Dante’s Creazioni di Venezia”.
Although it was pure torture, Brie chose to wait until she arrived home so she could open it with Sir. “Look what came all the way from Venice!” she said when she entered the house.
Sir raised an eyebrow when he read the address label. “Interesting…”
“Isn’t the box gorgeous? I almost hate to open it.”
Brie was careful as she cut through the tape, and then laughed at herself when she saw there was an identical, but smaller, box inside which was wrapped in a silver bow. The attention to detail made unboxing Dante’s gift a true experience.
She set the box on the desk and untied the ribbon. Lifting the lid, she set it to the side and sifted through the silver tissue paper.
Brie let out a gasp. Carefully picking it up, Brie gazed in sheer wonder at the jeweled Venetian mask. The delicate white mask was covered in sparkling crystals, and on the upper right side were amber stones in the shape of a violin. On the left were black jewels that made up five music notes. The pattern of notes on the staff was wavy like a flag fluttering in the wind, giving the musical notes a feeling of movement.
“Let me help you put it on, babygirl.”
Brie held her breath as she laid the mask against her face and Sir secured the ties in the back. Once it was secure, he turned her around to look at it.
She saw Sir’s eyes widen as he stared at the mask. “It is the most exquisite thing I have ever seen.”
She smiled and hurried to the closest mirror to stare at her reflection. The genius of Dante’s design was that the feminine shape complemented her face, but his intricate additions of the violin and musical notes enhanced the color of her eyes.
It was an extraordinary piece of art—one that belonged in a museum.
“I wonder what motivated him to create this?” Sir asked, his voice full of admiration as he stared at the mask.
Brie laughed with embarrassment. “I actually asked him what he did for a living, not realizing he was a world-renowned mask designer. Dante explained the process to me, as well as his need for inspiration. I have to assume this design came to him after he watched Alonzo’s first performance in America with me.”
Sir untied the mask to examine it more closely. “There’s something eerily familiar about it…” he muttered.
Brie tilted her head. “What do you mean, Sir?”
“These five notes. I feel as if I’ve heard this measure before, but I can’t place the song.” Sir handed Brie the mask and went to his music collection. After looking through it several times, he shook his head in frustration. “I thought my father played that song, but I have no recordings of it.”
Brie frowned. “How strange.”
“I suppose I must be mistaken.” Sir laughed, but he stared at the mask, clearly intrigued by those five notes.
Brie picked up the box, certain Dante had left a note. She spied a small silver envelope tucked inside. She immediately opened it, hoping it held the answer.
Mrs. Davis,
In honor of Alonzo Davis and the conversation we shared at Signore Mancini’s, I created this mask for you. It has been a long time since my muses have been so insistent. They completely consumed me.
It is my sincere hope that in the years to come, you and Sir Davis enjoy the mask you inspired.
With gratitude,
Dante
“He says nothing about the music,” Brie said as she handed the note to Sir.
He nodded while he read it. “My father had moments like Dante describes. When the music in his head had to find release and he’d spend days scribbling down the notes as they came to
him.”
Glancing at Brie, he smiled. “It was a wondrous thing to watch. I’ve never experienced it myself—can’t really even comprehend it—but there was no doubt that other-worldly forces were involved whenever I watched my father during those times of inspiration.”
Brie was fascinated by the revelation. “I never knew that, Sir.”
He snorted. “Naturally, my mother didn’t care for it.”
“Why?”
“Papa ignored everything when it hit—including us. It was like he was possessed by the music playing in his head, and the only way to find release was by getting it down on paper. My father seemed completely consumed by it just like Dante describes.”
“Didn’t it bother you as a child?”
He shook his head, saying with pride in his voice, “It was part of him.”
This was something Sir had never shared with her. After hearing about this part of Sir’s childhood, Brie now had a deeper understanding of his father, Alonzo. He was not only a world-class violinist but an inspired composer.
Brie carefully placed the mask back in the box. “It wouldn’t be proper for me to accept such an extravagant gift.”
Sir surprised her when he said, “You must. This is an inspired piece. To return it would be a slap in the face for the artist who created it.”
“But it must be worth hundreds.”
He stared at the mask. “More like thousands, babygirl.”
Brie’s jaw dropped. “Why would he give it away?”
Sir looked at her thoughtfully. “I remember my father telling me about a song he composed for someone he thought highly of—he never mentioned who. After spending weeks working on that one song, he finally felt it was ready and sent the music to them. Papa said he knew in his soul he had created a masterpiece.”
Sir frowned when he added, “Several weeks later, he received it back in the mail. My father immediately tore up the music sheets and tossed them into the fireplace.”
“Why would he do that?” Brie cried, mourning the loss of a song that would never be heard.
“Papa insisted it was created solely for that one person. Because it had been returned, he had no heart to play it.”
Brie whimpered. “That’s so sad…”
“I can’t begin to understand, but I respect my father’s feeling on the matter.” He stared at the mask again. “This piece of art came from an other-worldly place and was meant specifically for you.”
She picked up the mask feeling a sense of awe. “I’m honored.”
“As you should be, babygirl. To inspire a muse is a rare gift.”
Sir stared at the notes on the mask again with a faint smile. “I must plan a grand scene worthy of this mask. For now, however, you must content yourself with the new instrument I have for you.”
Her eyes widened. “What kind of instrument, Sir?”
He smiled seductively. “You’ll find out tonight.”
Brie let out an excited squeak. She always felt a special thrill experiencing something new with Sir.
She was unsure how she was going to concentrate on anything the rest of the day. It was one of the things she loved most about Sir. He knew how to draw out a scene, even before it began.
Brie shivered with delight, wondering what kinkiness he had in store for her.
By the time Brie put Hope to bed, she was already wet with anticipation. Sir had commanded she meet him in the bedroom once she was done. After closing Hope’s door, she quickly headed downstairs.
Her heart was racing when she walked into the room and saw the open door to their secret playroom. Sir stood at the entrance, waiting for her.
The crimson walls of the room were covered in a multitude of instruments, which complemented the sexy wooden table with leather cuffs in the center of the room.
“Undress,” he ordered in a sultry tone.
His simple command fanned the flames of her desire. With practiced grace, she unbuttoned her blouse, teasing him with sensual peeks of her naked skin before letting the blouse fall to the floor. Rather than feeling self-conscious of her round belly, Brie was extremely proud of it because it represented the potency of their love.
She playfully shimmied out of her skirt next, then turned away from Sir to undo her bra. Glancing over her shoulder with a seductive gaze, she held it out before dropping it onto her pile of clothing. Brie slowly turned around for him so he could admire her.
Sir stared lustfully at her ample breasts and motioned her to him. “I’ll take care of those panties.”
She glided to him and felt a thrill as he pulled out the knife he used for wax play from his pocket. With two quick movements, her panties lay in tatters on the floor. Sliding his hand between her legs, he nodded his approval.
“Already wet for me.”
“Yes, Master. I have ached for you all day.”
His eyes flashed wickedly. “I long to see how you react tonight.”
Brie glanced at his wall of tools, curious if he had already added it to his collection, but she saw nothing new.
Sir followed her gaze and chuckled lightly. “What you seek is in my suit pocket.”
Brie turned her attention back on him, surprised that the instrument would be so small.
Sir slowly reached into his jacket but kept his hand closed when he pulled it out.
“Curious?” he asked, holding out his fist.
She nodded enthusiastically.
The glint in his eye suddenly made her nervous. He slowly opened his hand to reveal a cute tweezer clamp with purple tips and a tiny silver heart hanging off the end of it. It reminded her of nipple clamps, except there was only one of them.
She giggled and looked up at Sir. “I don’t understand.”
“This is a clitoral clamp.”
Brie’s pussy clenched. Although she enjoyed the playful pain of nipple clamps, she had never considered what torturing her sensitive clit would feel like.
“I can tell by your expression, the idea of it makes you uncomfortable,” he stated in a smooth, seductive voice.
“I love my clit, Sir.”
He chuckled. “I love your clit, too.”
“Will it hurt?”
Sir answered with a sexy smirk. “There’s only one way to find out. But first, we must stimulate that shy little clit.”
He suddenly swept her up in his arms and carried her to the table. Positioning her ass close to the edge, he began binding her right ankle.
Brie let out a nervous sigh, excited that he was challenging her in this new way, but uncertain whether she would enjoy the experience.
“You always have your safeword, babygirl,” he reminded her as he spread her legs and bound her left ankle—leaving her completely helpless and open to him.
Sir took off his jacket, slipping the clamp into his breast pocket before attending to his sleeves. Brie found it such a turn-on to watch the meticulous way he rolled up his sleeves before a scene. It was enough to make a girl dripping wet.
Once he was done, Sir gazed down at her. “I notice you’re breathing faster.”
Brie nodded, smiling up at him. There was no point in denying it.
Sir left her for a moment to grab a tool off one of the shelves. Brie grinned when he turned around and she saw his instrument of choice. She loved the Magic Wand. Its intense vibration made for the most delicious orgasms in no time at all.
When Sir turned it on, her body instantly responded like Pavlov’s dog. The sound of the loud buzzing made her pussy even wetter as she anticipated the powerful orgasm which was soon to follow.
He pressed it against the right side of her clit, and then slowly rolled it over to the other side. Her entire pussy vibrated from the large head of the wand, making her shiver in delight.
It only took a couple of seconds before she felt the stirrings of her first climax beginning to build. Just before she reached the crest, Sir pulled the instrument away.
“That should do it.”
Brie whimpered.
“Now that your clit is erect, I can easily attach the clamp.”
She glanced nervously at the innocent-looking thing when he pulled it out of his breast pocket.
There it was all cute and delicate looking. But, after years of experience, Brie knew that you could never judge the intensity of an instrument simply by its looks.
“Are you ready, téa?”
Brie nodded, swallowing anxiously.
“I want your verbal consent.”
She sucked in her breath, letting it out slowly before she answered, “Yes, Master. I am ready.”
He leaned down between her legs and slipped the clamp over both sides of her clit. Pressing the tweezer clamp together, he slowly adjusted the ring to increase the pressure.
Brie was nervous about that type of constriction and whimpered.
“Color, téa?”
“I don’t know.”
“Does it hurt?” he asked.
She concentrated on the feeling itself, rather than her fear of it. “No, Master. It feels strange.”
“I’m going to tighten it a little more.”
She held her breath as he increased the pressure slightly.
“Color, téa?”
“Green, Master.”
“That should do well for now.”
As she lay there, she found the clamp created a fiery ache and she enjoyed the sensation.
Sir observed quietly for several moments before asking, “Color?”
“Very green,” she answered with excitement.
“I thought you’d like it,” Sir replied with his chocolaty smooth voice.
Brie stared up at the mirrored ceiling above her with a silly grin on her face. Who knew a clitoral clamp could actually feel good?
Now that Sir was satisfied with the tension of the clamp, he slipped two fingers into her pussy and began slowly stimulating her G-spot. Since he had already used the Magic Wand, her pussy was primed for a climax.
“Am I allowed to come, Master?”
“Not yet,” he answered with amusement.
