Her Russian Returns (Brie's Submission Book 15)
Page 17
He took it all in as he walked up to the receptionist, who stood up as he approached.
“Mr. Durov, what a pleasant surprise.”
Brie whispered, “What? You didn’t tell them we were coming?”
“What better way to find out how things are running than to come unexpected?” he answered under his breath as he smiled at the woman.
“Can you let Miss Conner know we are here?” he asked, turning to introduce Brie. “This is Brie Davis, my…” He paused for a moment, unsure of what to say.
Brie held out her hand to the receptionist. “Yes, I’m Brie Davis, Rytsar’s joy.” She grinned as she glanced at him.
Rytsar chuckled, smirking at her answer.
“Excuse me while I let Miss Conner know you both are here.”
Rytsar watched as the woman left the room, entering a door on the left.
“You’ve created quite a place here, Rytsar,” Brie exclaimed. “It feels serene just walking into the building. I’m sure it must make the new patients feel comfortable when they first enter here.
He looked around the large space. “This isn’t my doing.”
“No, it isn’t. However, I hope you approve, Rytsar Durov. I added those elements for the very reason Mrs. Davis just stated.”
He turned around to greet Stephanie, but the girl was hardly recognizable. Before him stood a seasoned businesswoman. Someone glowing with health and vitality.
“I most definitely approve, Miss Conner.”
She blushed at his compliment. “I…I can’t believe you are standing here in front of me. I was deathly afraid I would never see you after watching that footage on the news.”
Rytsar cleared his throat. “Fortune is kind to the foolish.”
Stephanie took his hand and shook it vigorously. “It’s good to see that karma rewards heroes.”
“Not a hero,” Rytsar corrected.
She looked at Brie, smiling. “Well, I’m not sure what you call a man who saves your life, makes sure you are taken care of, and gives you a center like this to assist others.”
“There is no doubt that Rytsar is an exceptional man. However, I also know he speaks highly of you. If you are going to use hero to describe him, then you would have to use it to describe yourself, as well.”
Stephanie blushed a deeper shade of red and glanced at Rytsar. “Okay, the word ‘hero’ is a bit uncomfortable to bear. Let me just say I admire you deeply and am grateful for the influence you’ve had on my life.”
Rytsar nodded. “I feel the same toward you, Miss Conner.”
She smiled at them both. “Would you like me to show you around the place? There are some restricted areas to preserve our girls’ privacy, but I’d be happy to share what we do here on a daily basis.”
“That would be lovely,” Brie said, linking her arm through Rytsar’s.
“And while we walk, we can discuss the other matter Mr. Wallace came to me about.”
“Certainly,” Rytsar agreed. “However, I would prefer we discuss that after the tour, in private.”
“Of course,” Stephanie replied, blushing again.
Rytsar observed her the entire tour. Her confidence and passion for the center, and her deep-seated belief in the difference it was making to those she served, was thrilling to witness. This was not the broken girl he’d rescued from the maggot. This was a fully realized woman who was just beginning on her future path.
“How many survivors have graduated from your program?” Brie asked.
“I’m not sure if you are aware, Mrs. Davis, but the average life expectancy of a girl taken and sold into slavery is less than seven years. They normally die of AIDS, homicide, or suicide. Not enough make it to our doors. But I am proud to say that of those who do, we hold a 98 percent graduation rate, with only a few finding it necessary to return once leaving our program. With proper medical treatment, counseling, and the extensive rehabilitation services the center offers, we are truly a community of survivors.”
Rytsar closed his eyes for a moment. Do you hear that, my little sparrow? Stephanie is well, and she is helping countless others. You live on through me and all the survivors here.
He had to hold back the tears that wanted to escape.
At the end of the tour, Stephanie led them to a private meeting room and asked one of her assistants to supply them with coffee and water before leaving them undisturbed.
“So, about the girl you want us to keep,” Stephanie began.
Rytsar narrowed his eyes. “I do not think of Lilly as a girl, but a menace to society. No different than the maggot I killed the night I rescued you.”
Stephanie inclined her head to him in acknowledgement.
“Miss Conner, it is hard for me to even talk about her. Lilly wanted to kill my baby,” Brie explained, clutching her belly. “And she also planned to sell me into the very slavery your girls have been freed from. If I hadn’t been rescued by Tono Nosaka, I would not be talking to you now. I have zero sympathy for the woman.”
“Mr. Wallace informed me of the severity of her crimes against you, which is why I am determined to help.” She turned to Rytsar. “I would do anything for you.”
“While I appreciate the sentiment, Miss Conner, there is no need to feel obligated. I hope I made that clear in my letter to you,” Rytsar stated.
Stephanie nodded, her eyes softening. “I understand where you are coming from. But no matter what you say, I will always feel indebted to you.”
Rytsar shrugged, giving her a half-grin. “I suppose I can appreciate that, since there are many I am beholden to for my own recent liberation.”
“I’m glad you understand,” she said, sitting back in her chair and smiling at him. “I’m so very grateful to every person involved in your rescue. I don’t know how I would have handled it if the outcome had been different.” There was a flash of pain in her eyes before she glanced away.
Wanting to change the subject, Rytsar informed her, “I’ve been told that the birth is imminent. Are the two rooms ready?”
“They are.”
Brie asked, “And are you confident she won’t be able to get out and hurt me or anyone else here?”
“I assure you that all precautions have been taken, Mrs. Davis. But it was more than incarceration that Mr. Wallace spoke of. He talked about his wish to rehabilitate her and, after much thought, I think I have come up with a solution.”
“Go on,” Brie encouraged her.
Rytsar listened with interest, but still held the belief that rehabilitation was not possible with Lilly. For Brie’s peace of mind, however, he was willing to give Wallace’s plan a chance.
“As you know, she will be performing menial tasks under the watchful eye of your guards, to keep our facility running, but that isn’t enough to rehabilitate a person.”
“I completely agree,” Brie told her.
“Therefore, I would like to utilize your informant. Since Lilly was essentially acting as a trafficker in her plans for you, Mrs. Davis, she should know what it entails from the victim’s point of view.”
Stephanie turned her gaze back to Rytsar. “I thought it would be beneficial to have your informant listen to recordings of the girls’ interviews detailing what they suffered at the hands of their captors. She can pass on what she hears as if she knows the girls personally and is simply sharing their stories.
“Of course, I will ask permission of my girls to use their recordings with the explanation that it will be utilized to help others. I would never compromise their trust. After what they’ve been through, trust is a very fragile thing.”
Rytsar nodded his approval. “Although there are no guarantees this creature has a heart, I commend you for coming up with a solution in the spirit of what Wallace was hoping to achieve here.”
He looked at Brie. “What do you think, radost moya?”
“I know jail time has not made a difference to her. At least, with this approach, Lilly might gain some empathy for others. I hope it will have so
me impact, and with an informant keeping us up to date, at least we might get a clearer picture of what’s going on in that crazy head of hers.”
“Good,” Stephanie said, standing up. A blush colored her cheeks when she asked Rytsar, “Would it be okay if I hugged you?”
The request caught him off guard. “Understand that I am still recovering from my injuries. But if you are gentle…”
Stephanie stepped up to him, barely touching his body as she wrapped her arms around his torso and laid her head lightly on his chest. “Thank you,” she whispered.
He felt tears pricking his eyes, and put one arm around her. “Thank you for flourishing.”
Rytsar pulled away, giving her a curt bow before placing his hand on the small of Brie’s back and walking her out with a smile on his face.
Stephanie’s survival and service to others who were like her would remain a pinnacle of his life. Proof that something positive could come out of a tragedy.
Big Guns
Rytsar watched a naked Brie pick up her fantasy journal and curl up on the couch to write. He smiled to himself. That fantasy journal’s first entry would always remain a favorite of his.
He walked into Thane’s room to find his friend working out his arms with elastic bands. The man was working hard enough to draw a serious sweat.
“Don’t go killing yourself,” Rytsar warned him.
“I’m not staying in this bed a minute longer than necessary.” Thane stopped to flex his arm. “Do you see it?”
“What?”
“A definition of a muscle.”
Rytsar moved in close to look and clicked his tongue. “If you say so, moy droog.”
Thane punched him in the arm, which actually hurt Rytsar because of his broken ribs, and he unconsciously grimaced.
“I didn’t hit you that hard. I’m not that strong yet,” Thane chided him.
Rytsar stood up, shifting uncomfortably.
“It’s the ribs, isn’t it?”
“Ah…” Rytsar knew there was no point in denying it, so he sighed in frustration, admitting to Thane, “They do not seem to be healing like they should.”
“Because you refuse to slow down and rest.”
Rytsar rubbed his rib cage, frowning. “It is not in my nature, comrade.”
“You need to see Dr. Hessen. Don’t put it off any longer.”
“I’m not keen on doctors.”
“See her, and if you like what she has to say, great. If not, you walk away and spend the rest of your life grimacing whenever I barely touch you.”
Rytsar huffed. “I could take you in a fight.”
Thane shrugged. “No contest, but beating up an invalid is frowned upon.”
Rytsar burst out laughing. “You are no invalid. I think you’re faking it.”
Thane joined in his laughter.
“What going on in there?” Brie called from the other room. “You’re not supposed to be having that much fun without me.”
Thane smirked at Rytsar. “So you’ll speak with Dr. Hessen, then?”
“Da, I will set up an appointment.”
“Good, because I’m not into pussy Russians.”
Rytsar shook his head slowly, growling under his breath, “You’re asking for it, moy droog.”
Thane flexed his arm again. “Go ahead, tough guy. Take your chances with these big guns.”
“Big gun? Water pistol is more like it.”
Thane huffed and went back to his arm exercises.
Rytsar looked toward the door and asked him, “Do you know what your little submissive is doing out there?”
“Not a clue.”
“She’s writing in her fantasy journal.”
Thane stopped for a moment. “Is she?”
“I’m curious about what she is writing.”
Thane stated huskily, “As am I.” He called out to Brie. “Babygirl, when you are done with your fantasy, come here and read it to your Master.”
The pitter-patter of her bare feet sounded in the hallway. She peeked in and smiled. “It would be my pleasure, Master, but it may be a while.”
“Take as much time as you need.”
She winked at them both before disappearing again.
“I enjoy your woman’s creative mind,” Rytsar complimented him.
“It was one of the reasons I fell in love with her.”
Rytsar stared at the doorway. “Am I allowed to listen when she reads it to you?”
“If you make the appointment with Dr. Hessen before she comes back.”
Rytsar shook his finger at him. “You are a crafty bastard.”
While Rytsar was finishing his call, he noticed Brie closing her journal. She then began to play with herself.
“Good fantasy?”
“Real nice,” she purred, looking at him unashamedly.
“I love your dirty mind, radost moya.”
Brie giggled as he walked with her down the hallway.
When they entered the room, he announced, “Moy droog, after much concentration and pussy wetting, your sub is ready to share her masterpiece.”
Thane patted the area next to him on the bed. “Come here, babygirl. I have been anxious to hear your latest entry.”
He looked at Rytsar and asked, “Did you make the appointment?”
“I did.”
“Then you are welcome to stay with us.”
“Wonderful, but I need to get something first.”
Rytsar left their room to get his Magic Wand. He figured it would make Brie’s reading of her journal entry much more enjoyable for them all.
When he returned with the instrument, Brie’s eyes widened. “Oh, no…” she murmured, her lips upturned in a little grin.
Rytsar plugged it in and tossed the large vibrator to Thane. “Why don’t you tease her with it while I read the journal to you both?”
Thane switched it on, and its familiar buzz filled the room, causing Brie to squirm beside him. He switched it back off and smiled. “An excellent suggestion.”
Pushing himself to a higher upright position, Thane commanded, “Come téa, snuggle up against your Master while I listen to your masterpiece.”
Brie giggled as she handed her journal to Rytsar before scooting closer to Thane and laying her head on his chest, sighing contentedly.
Rytsar reached out to pet her hair as he opened the journal to the marked page.
He cleared his throat for dramatic effect before beginning.
My Master is working in the bedroom with his physical therapist.
I’ve been told that today is going to be his graduation day from therapy. I’m thrilled because I know how hard he has worked, and getting to this day has been a long, hard battle.
I’m in the kitchen, icing the cake I’ve made especially for the occasion. The Russian and the beefy male nurse are in the main room, engaged in what appears to be an intense conversation.
The Russian breaks away and joins me in the kitchen just as I am making the final touches to my decorations.
“That is a mighty fine-looking cake, but how does it taste?” Without asking, he swipes his finger across the top to take a taste.
“You!” I cry, hastily trying to fix the fingerprint with my frosting knife.
“It is good,” he tells me, swiping his finger a second time and placing a dollop of it on my nose. “You should taste it.”
Before I can react, he licks it off and then kisses me.
The sweet taste of vanilla buttercream fills my mouth. I push him away, laughing as I do so, and go back to fixing the cake.
He leaves me as my Master slowly but steadily walks from the hallway to the main room without any assistance.
When he looks in my direction and winks, my heart melts.
I pick up my little cake and walk into the main room with everyone else. “Happy Graduation Day!”
He looks down at my creation, marred by the Russian’s tasting, and smiles at me. “I look forward to feeding it to you.”
&nb
sp; I blush.
He wraps one arm around me, leaning down for a kiss and, all at once, I am spirited away as I lose myself in the familiarity of his embrace. It has been a long time since he’s kissed me while standing, and I am so overwhelmed that a tear escapes.
My Master pulls away, a mischievous look in his eye as he wipes away the stray tear.
“Before I feed you cake, I want to celebrate in another way.”
The Russian takes the cake from me and sets it on the table while my Master guides me to his tantra chair.
My heart starts to race, but I remain silent, waiting to hear his orders.
Suddenly, my Master, the Russian, and the two brawny medical personnel begin undressing in front of me.
“Master?”
“As you have already surmised, today’s celebration will involve you pleasing all four of us men at the same time.”
I look at each man, my heart now beating a mile a minute.
I know my Master’s body well and love the dark hair that covers his chest and thighs, and frames his handsome cock. Sir’s shaft is perfect in every way, and it knows exactly how to please me.
The Russian is a solid and muscular man, his chest broad and his stomach ripped with muscles. He also sports a dragon tattoo on his shoulder that defines his spirit—fierce and fiery.
The physical therapist is muscular, as well. His sandy blond hair and clean-shaven face give him a distinctly Californian look. I imagine him on the beach while girls swoon over him as he steps out of the ocean, wet and dripping, his body glistening in the sunlight.
As for the nurse, he has a body that reminds me of Master Coen. A bodybuilder in physique, with muscles everywhere. Although he has a head of curly brown hair, the man is completely hairless everywhere else to show off those bulging muscles. I find it quite intriguing.
“Undress, téa,” my Master commands.
I look at him as I begin to shed my clothes. I do it sensually, like a love letter to him, exposing each area of skin to his gaze slowly, building the anticipation.
Once fully naked, I stand before my Master in a pose of submission, my hands open, my lips supple, my head bowed, knowing that soon I will be touched by these four men.