by Red Phoenix
Brie felt heat rise to her face, honored that he felt that way. “I hope I can do justice not only to his confidence in my abilities, but to the Training Center itself. It has changed my life, in ways I could never have imagined.”
“Let’s waste no more time then,” he said affably.
Brie handed over the documentary—her baby—without hesitation. She watched him slip the DVD in and hit play. The large TV screen lit up with her introduction. The music started off light and soothing as the words ‘Art of Submission’ floated across the screen with images of submissives bowing, presenting, or kissing the hands or feet of the dominants. The music quickly became hard and pounding as more provocative images flashed onto the screen, depicting bondage, flogging and fire play.
Brie had ended the intro with pictures of the three girls with their silly nicknames: ‘Lea the Lovely’, ‘Brie the Bodacious’ and ‘Mary the Magnificent’. She’d decided to keep the humor of their experiences at the forefront of her film. Becoming a submissive was a complex journey—one that not only involved facing fears and pushing limits, but also encouraged the pure joy of self-discovery.
She watched Mr. Holloway clandestinely as he took in her work. The man had his hand on his chin. His gaze never wavered; his lips never twitched. He was a master at masking his emotions. When the ending credits concluded, he turned off the TV and sat without saying a word.
With all her dreams on the line, such treatment should have put her in a tailspin of anxiety, but she knew it was good and stared back at him pleasantly, saying nothing. After several long, agonizing minutes he spoke.
“It was not what I was expecting.”
Brie swallowed hard, shocked by his reaction, but she kept her composure. “What was your expectation?”
“I had hoped for a more in-depth exposé of your training experience. That girl, Mary—you hardly touched on her issues and you left the end nebulous concerning her future. You also concentrated more on Lea’s humor than her personal struggles. The only person I feel I know after watching your film is you, which is not bad…however, you have other personalities in the film who were not tapped into.”
She took a deep breath before replying. “You are correct. I did not dig deeply into their personal lives. I didn’t want to infringe on their privacy, especially with Mary, who has painful issues in her past.”
“It is those issues that will make this film interesting. We need to know their pain and discomfort, just as you shared some of yours.”
“I doubt they’d want to expose themselves like that, Mr. Holloway. Their willingness to publicly identify themselves as submissives was courageous enough. I am prepared to risk full exposure, but I do not expect the same from my friends.”
“Well, you do not have a noteworthy film without it. You need more footage, individual interviews in which you delve into the darker aspects of their journeys. In fact, I would wager even you have held back some of your more difficult trials.”
Brie nodded. “You are correct again. I consciously made the decision not to burden the viewer.”
“Then it is not really a documentary, is it? It is a piece of well-packaged fluff. I expected a documentary, and that I did not get.”
Brie took a deep breath and exhaled silently before speaking, grateful for Tono’s breathing lessons at a time like this. “I thank you for your time, Mr. Holloway.” She got up to leave, completely devastated but hiding it under a pleasant smile.
He motioned her back to the chair. “I want my documentary, Miss Bennett. Go back to Ms. Taylor and Miss Wilson and get their real stories. Go to the Training Center and video some of the scenes you allude to. I would also like to see interviews with the trainers. This film has potential, but not as it is now.”
“I am fairly certain I will not get the consent of both submissives. I had a hard enough time getting what little I did get from the one.”
“Miss Wilson?”
“Yes,” she answered.
“It is her story that will sell the film. I don’t care what you have to do, it is imperative you get her to agree.”
“We did not end on good terms, Mr. Holloway.”
He smiled wolfishly. “All the better.”
“And if I cannot get her consent?”
He sat back slowly in his chair. “Then you don’t have a film, in my opinion.”
Brie’s heart dropped. There was no way Mary would agree—not the Blonde Nemesis. “I will see what I can do. How soon do you want the completed film?”
“In a month.”
She shook her head to clear it. A month was not a reasonable amount of time for all he wanted her to add to the documentary. However, this man was her best chance and she wasn’t about to question him on it. “Shall we set up a meeting for in a month, then?”
He gave her a look of approval. “Had you made any excuses, I would have turned down the project. You may see my assistant on the way out to schedule our next meeting.” The imposing man stood up and handed back the DVD. “I expect great things from you, Miss Bennett.”
She took it with a feeling of disappointment, sad that her little film had failed to impress him. What will Sir say?
She nodded to the respected producer and headed for the door.
“I like your sense of humor, Miss Bennett. Do not lose that in the remake. You’ll need the balance.”
She turned around and smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Holloway. I find humor makes everything easier to digest.”
Brie walked out of the building and got into her car, feeling shell-shocked. He had not rejected the film, but it felt like it—especially knowing that Mary was the key. She rested her head on the steering wheel and closed her eyes. That was not how she’d thought the meeting would go, and now she would have to go back to Sir and tell him her film wasn’t good enough.
She jumped when someone knocked on her driver-side window. Brie looked up and saw Sir staring down at her. He made the motion for her to unroll the window. “I wanted to be the first to congratulate you.”
Her bottom lip trembled.
Sir paused for a second and then smiled. “Let’s go for a walk, babygirl.”
Brie got out of the car and Sir placed his hand on the small of her back, guiding her through the crowds of people hustling down the sidewalk. His touch brought welcome peace to her soul.
“How did it go?” he asked gently. “I can tell by your body language and silence that you aren’t happy, but I can’t imagine he rejected it.”
She struggled to talk without her emotions choking her voice. “Mr. Holloway rejected what I have now.”
“But…”
“If I can get Mary’s and Lea’s consent to do more personal interviews, along with a host of other things within a month’s time, he’ll accept it. Well…he’ll consider it, at least. But Mary will never agree to it, Sir. It’s done.” She held back a sob and turned away from him.
Sir directed her to a ledge so that she could sit down. He stood over her, allowing her time to collect herself. “I understand your disappointment, Brie. However, the door has not been closed. He is providing you with an excellent opportunity. It is not over—this is just beginning.”
Brie looked up at Sir, unable to hide her misery. “The last thing I want is to talk to Mary again, much less ask a favor of her, Sir. To realize my dream I have to face my worst nightmare.”
“I take it as a good sign. The unresolved issues between you two need to be addressed. It seems the universe agrees and is forcing the issue.”
“Anything but that…” she whimpered.
He said quietly, “You are no longer a child.”
It was humiliating to be put in this position. Mary had wronged her, Mary was the one at fault, but it was Brie who was expected to mend the rift the betrayer had created.
“Brie, let me give you a piece of advice, one I learned after my father’s death. No matter how it may appear to the casual observer, you cannot know the truth unless you know all sides. I would refra
in from making judgments until you speak with Miss Wilson directly.”
Brie bowed her head. Yes, Sir knows too well the cost of unjust judgments. His words brought clarity in a sea of doubt and frustration. “I’ll speak to her, Sir. But I already know it’s going to end in disaster.”
Sir chuckled. “I doubt that. I remember seeing the two of you together. There were times of honest camaraderie between you. Don’t be so quick to dismiss that because of one incident you have yet to discuss.”
“You have more faith in her than I do, Sir.”
“My faith lies in you, Brie.”
She stood up and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Thank you, Sir. I needed to hear that.”
His strong arms embraced her and he lifted her off the ground. “You are meant to accomplish great things. To whom much is given, much is expected.” He kissed her firmly on the lips.
Brie melted into his kiss, and laid her head against his chest when he set her back down. “As long as I have you, I know I can’t fail.”
He squeezed her tighter. “I have news of my own, little sub.”
Brie looked up and smiled. “What is it, Sir?”
“One of the business contacts I made in Russia has plans for expansion into America. They’ve asked to meet in New York.”
She was genuinely pleased. “Your dreams of expanding your business are coming true, Sir.”
“Like you, they are not happening the way I anticipated, and yet a unique opportunity has presented itself.” He traced the collar fastened around her neck and added with a charming smile, “I believe you are my luck.”
His words warmed her heart in ways he could not imagine. For a man who’d struggled in the past to communicate his feelings, Sir was becoming exceptionally expressive.
She squeezed him tighter. “I’m thrilled to hear it, Sir.”
“There is a hitch, however. They are meeting later this week. I’ll need to leave tomorrow to get my contacts set up and presentation ready.”
A cold shiver of realization ran through her. “Will I be going with you, Sir?”
“No, Brie. You don’t have time to spare on another trip. I regret that I cannot be here as support.”
She sat back down on the ledge, trying to keep the tears of disappointment at bay. Brie thought what a funny creature she was—one moment flying high and the next drowning in despair.
“Brie, do not let this deter you from your goal. Even when I am not near, my love and support are yours.”
He’d said the L word in public without a second thought, his concern for her so great that he wasn’t even aware of it. That one word changed everything in an instant.
She looked up at him, trying not to smile foolishly. “I won’t, Sir. Although I wish you could be here if the meeting with Mary does not go well.”
Always thinking ahead, Sir immediately suggested, “You should bring Ms. Taylor with you and present the opportunity to the two at the same time. If Miss Wilson is not receptive, leave with Ms. Taylor. She can act as your moral support and a buffer if you require it.”
Brie nodded, her confidence returning. With her best friend Lea by her side, she could face the Nemesis. Only Lea truly knew the trials she had suffered with Mary, anyway.
“I’d say we are both due a lavish night of celebration, Miss Bennett. Perhaps a quiet Italian dinner by the ocean and a ride along the coast.”
She looked at him demurely. “Whatever is your pleasure, Sir.”
“You are my pleasure, téa,” he said, gathering her back into his arms.
Sir told Brie to pick out an outfit he would like, but added the stipulation there was to be no bra or panties involved. Brie walked into their closet, her eyes widening at the choices. Sir had purchased several outfits she had yet to wear and they were exquisite—and yet…
Brie walked out of the bedroom with a confident stride that spoke of her assurance as a cherished submissive. When Sir saw her, there was a slight moment of obvious surprise, and then his lips curled upwards in pleasure.
“My student.”
Brie glided up to him dressed in her Submissive Training uniform: the leather corset, short skirt and her thigh-highs with six-inch heels. Tonight, per his request, she had forgone the red thong underneath.
“Are you pleased, Master?”
He kissed her in answer, reaching under her leather skirt. Brie ground against his hand. Sir licked his finger afterwards, smiling sensually before picking up a velvet box from the counter.
Inside were the pearls that he’d given Brie the night he’d scened with her as ‘Khan’. Sir placed the strand around her neck, letting it hang between her breasts. “Perfection, téa.”
Sir went to get dressed himself and left her with the instructions, “While you wait, I want you to come up with a use for those pearls tonight.”
Brie played with the pearls around her neck, a sly smile forming on her lips. She knew exactly how she would use them.
It was her turn to look surprised when he came back out. He was dressed in the same tux he’d worn the night he’d collared her. Seeing him walk towards her in the black Italian suit made her knees weak. “You look beautiful, Sir.”
He cocked his head. “Beautiful? That’s not a word I hear often.” He chuckled as he took her evening coat from the hook in the hallway and slipped it over her shoulders. Sir whispered in her ear, “Still my elegant property.”
Brie purred. When she had played out the scene with Sir as her Khan, it had been exciting but full of emotional angst. This time the barriers were gone; she was simply a devoted sub in the hands of her Master.
“I love you, Master.”
He cupped her chin. “I don’t think you know the depth of my feelings for you.”
Chills ran down her spine as she looked into his eyes. Unlike Marquis’ gaze that bore into her soul, Sir’s called to her like a perilous song, inviting her to lose herself completely.
He walked her out of the building to a waiting limousine. She smiled and pressed herself against him as they waited for the chauffeur to open the door. Brie remembered the last limousine ride, one that had been full of passion but had ended in utter frustration.
Not tonight…
Brie slid onto the long leather bench seat, feeling lightheaded with expectation. Sir joined her, putting his hand on her thigh, but he remained silent. For the entire ride he did not speak. He simply stared at her with a look of longing and some unknown emotion—an almost raw vulnerability. It reminded her of their first time alone together.
Her heart started to race. What could it mean? She met his gaze, asking silently, What are you trying to tell me, Sir?
The limo stopped on the coast at a quiet area of beach. Sir helped her out of the car and escorted her towards the water on path of red tiles that had been laid out artfully for them. The footpath led to a lone table in the sand, surrounded by fiery tiki torches. A man dressed like a chef stood with a chair pulled out for her.
Brie smiled. “What’s this, Master?”
“A quiet Italian meal by the ocean,” he replied.
Brie sat down to the elegantly set table and stared across it as her Master sat down. This was too much—something extraordinary was happening tonight. She could feel it in her bones.
The chef removed covers from two plates, one with small grilled pieces of bread, and the other with colorful vegetables and a small bowl of oil. Sir pointed to the bread, “Fettunta, spread with olive oil, grilled with garlic rubbed on top. Best garlic bread you’ll ever taste.” He pointed to the other. “Pinizimonio, fresh vegetables to dip in the seasoned olive oil.”
“It looks delicious, Master.”
Sir picked up a slice of bread and consumed it with a look of rapture on his face. Brie was captivated by the vibrant vegetables and took a slice of bright yellow bell pepper, dipping it into the olive oil seasoned with black pepper. She brought it to her lips, trying to look alluring. A drip of oil fell before she could get it into her mouth. It landed on her
chest, then rolled slowly under her corset and between her breasts. She looked up, hoping Sir hadn’t noticed. The twinkle in his eyes said otherwise.
“Take off your top, téa.”
Brie ignored the stranger standing beside her and undid the ties, letting her corset fall to the sandy beach. Sir stood up and with his finger, he caught the trail of oil. He lifted his index finger to his lips and licked it off. “I think you would taste good covered in olive oil.”
He sat back down and took a mushroom, dipping it into the oil. Then, smiling at Brie, he devoured it. She blushed. Sir could eat her any way he wanted…
The chef poured them each a glass of wine, before moving back to a grill she hadn’t noticed flaming in the distance until now. Sir was right—her favorite, hands down, was the garlic bread; hard, crunchy, infused with the taste of garlic and the tanginess of olive oil. She had to stop herself from eating the whole plateful. Submissives are not greedy, she reminded herself, even if they secretly want to be.
After several minutes, the chef returned with a covered plate. He placed it before Sir and lifted the cover with a flourish. A thick, juicy steak sat alone on the platter. It was not the pasta Brie had expected.
Sir took the knife the chef handed him and cut into it at an angle. Brie was shocked at how red it was, like rare—really rare.
He speared the piece of meat and held it up to admire. “Bistecca alla Fiorentina. A simple dish that impresses the most discerning palate.”
Sir held it out for her to eat, but she did not open her lips to take it. With trepidation, she admitted, “I don’t eat rare meat, Master.”
He shook his head. “You have not tried this. Trust me, téa.”
She opened her mouth, but only to please him, even though she was certain she would choke on it.
“It is seasoned simply and grilled only for a few minutes on each side, to let the true flavor of the beef shine through,” he said as he put it in her mouth.
Brie let the bloody meat touch her lips and held back the urge to gag. Sir was watching her intently as she chewed, so she closed her eyes to concentrate on the flavors, divorcing herself from the fact it was basically raw animal tissue. The simple salt, pepper and garlic seasoning, along with the splash of olive oil, heightened the flavor of the steak. This meat definitely had flavor, but it was delicate and melted in her mouth.
