Brie’s Russian Treat (Submissive in Love, #5) (11 page)

Rytsar ordered Brie to primp for Sir’s return and then meet him outside next to the woodpile.

Knowing that her Master was coming, Brie pulled out all the stops. She took a long bath in scented oils, styling her hair and dressing in her sexiest outfit, even taking extra time applying her makeup.

When she met Rytsar out at the woodpile, he laughed at her. “All of that was unnecessary. Now strip down to your snow boots and take out that fancy doodad in your hair.”

“But it’s too cold,” she protested, while still dutifully unzipping her skirt.

He pointed to a large tree and stated, “Not in the sunlight.”

Brie undressed, laying her clothes on a fallen log before placing her decorative comb on top. She stood beside the large tree he’d indicated in nothing but her fur-lined boots. Her tender nipples hardened from the chill in the air.

“Much better,” Rytsar praised as he approached her with three long strands of leather in his hand.

She looked at him warily. “We aren’t having another lesson on pain, are we?”

He laughed without answering, as he pressed her against the tree trunk and lifted her arms above her head. Rytsar secured her to the tree with the rough leather, tightening it around her wrists.

The second one he wrapped around her torso, just above her mound. He kissed her on the lips as he cinched it tight. It was deliciously sexy and she purred when he pulled away.

Rytsar smiled seductively as he instructed Brie to place her feet together and then knelt to secure them to the tree. He ran his hands over her body when he was done, starting from her bound ankles, over the swell of her womanly hips up to the curve of her breasts. Then he stepped back to admire her more critically.

“Yes, a very nice form to be greeted with,” he stated, before moving back over to the woodpile. He started chopping again.

It was curious to be bound to a tree, completely naked in broad daylight, waiting for her Master’s arrival. Brie looked at the birds in the trees above her and wondered if they found it equally odd.

Rytsar’s remaining guard came out and spoke to him in Russian. As he turned to leave he glanced briefly at her. Although his overall expression did not change, she could have sworn she saw him lift his eyebrows as he walked by.

She looked back at Rytsar, who was wiping his brow of all of the sweat caused by the strenuous work. It seemed he was putting all of his unspent sexual energy into the act. When he put down the ax and took off his shirt, Brie wanted to let out a whistle of appreciation. He looked in her direction and nodded before picking up the ax and chopping the next block of wood.

Brie studied his muscles as they churned and bulged every time he swung the ax. The man was impressive in both form and confidence, as he precisely cut the wood into quarters and stacked them up.

She vividly remembered what he’d looked like when he’d been fucking the sub during her shoot in Moscow. Brie shivered, knowing that would be her soon—with Sir.

Trinity

W
hen Rytsar had cut all the wood, he slammed the ax into the chopping block and grabbed his shirt. He looked at her with a mischievous grin before walking into the cabin.

Brie couldn’t believe that he was leaving her bound and alone in the woods. She looked around nervously, certain the Russian countryside had grizzlies. Suddenly the sounds of the forest became almost sinister as she imagined a giant Kodiak meandering through the woods, heading towards her.

“Rytsar,” she called out. When she got no response, she yelled toward the cabin, “Rytsar, please don’t leave me ou—”

It was then that she noticed he was standing by the window, silently watching her as he chugged down a glass of vodka.

Of course…
This was another experience he wanted her to have, to embrace, while he watched over her protectively.

Feeling his eyes still on her, she lifted her head, standing up straighter so that she kept a long, lean line, while she pressed her shoulders against the tree so that her back arched slightly, thrusting her breasts forward.

If she was to be his bound captive, then she wanted to be the best-looking sub he’d ever tied to a tree. Brie closed her eyes and lifted her face towards the sunlight, relishing its warm caress on her skin.

She stayed in that position for what seemed like hours, fighting against the ache in her muscles as she listened and became connected with the nature around her. She secretly hoped that the two men would take her outside. It would be exhilarating to know that kind of uninhibited freedom.

In the far-off distance she heard the faint rumbling of a car engine. Her heart rate increased.

Master is here!

What would he think when her found her here, bound outside in nothing but boots? Brie purred at the thought, her eyes glued to the vehicle when it rounded the bend. Sir got out of his car and looked her up and down with appraising eyes, but she was startled when he headed towards the cabin without saying a word to her.

She watched in disbelief as Rytsar open the door and invited him in, leaving her outside—alone again.

So this is a taste of objectification.

Brie looked at the cabin and felt butterflies when she saw both Rytsar and Sir watching her from the window. She could see their lips moving. Knowing they were talking about her as they admired her bound form was extremely arousing.

The two came out a short time later, both shirtless and holding tools in their hands. Brie wanted to squeal with happiness, tickled it would be an outside session with them.

Sir laid his assortment on the hood of his car and approached Brie with a dark purple flogger in his hand. Brie bit her bottom lip, anxious to feel its caress on her skin.

“Hello, téa.”

“Good afternoon, Master.”

“Did you miss your Master?”

“I did, very much, although I was well cared-for.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” He ran his hands over her tender nipples and she cringed. “I see Durov worked you over this morning.”

She agreed, “It was a very challenging session.”

“But I heard you did well.” He brushed her cheek with his free hand. “Always growing, always expanding your horizons…” Sir bent down and kissed her firmly on the lips, slipping his tongue inside her mouth. Brie groaned, lost in the sensuality of the kiss.

He pulled away and began swinging the flogger back and forth. “Because you have been good, I think you should be rewarded with a flogging.”

“Thank you, Master.” Brie gazed longingly at him, ready for the session to begin.

He moved her hair back before he started stroking her lightly on the stomach with the flogger, smacking the leather on one side and then the other in a fluid motion. Sir slowly started up her torso, caressing her skin with the multiple tails as he advanced towards her breasts. They bounced erotically when he reached them, sending shockwaves of pleasure to her loins.

Without missing a beat, he started back down, going past her hips down to her thighs. His lashes were becoming stronger, but remained pleasant as he warmed up her skin with the tool. Then Sir suddenly grabbed the tails and stopped.

“Rytsar?” he called.

The Russian came up from behind, holding a wooden crop with accents of black leather and a short tail of gray horsehair on the end. It was a beautiful tool in its own right and she was curious how it would feel.

“We use these on our horses,” Rytsar informed her with an impish grin.

Rytsar started by tickling her with the instrument. Goose bumps rose on her skin, the light sensation of the horsehair almost too much to take. She squeaked as he brushed over her stomach and breasts, lightly tickling her forehead and lips, causing delicious tingles that traveled straight to her loins.

Rytsar moved even lower, grazing her mound with the unique tool. Brie moaned softly, liking its gentle caress. That was when she was introduced to the other characteristic of his crop as he whipped it against her leg.

Brie squealed at the sting of the pretty whip and squirmed against the tree as he continued to lash her with it. Who would have known a tool could be so sugary-sweet and cruelly stinging? She continued to flinch and giggle as he flicked the crop across her skin.

Sir returned with his flogger and Rytsar respectfully stepped out of the way. Her Master swept away the lingering sting by replacing it with the pleasant thud of his sexy flogger, and she purred in delight.

“You like that, don’t you, babygirl?”

“I do, Master.”

The woods filled with the sound of leather against skin, of soft squeals and whimpers as she took the onslaught of his flogger. He played with different sensations, creating caresses that soothed and lashes that challenged, all the time keeping her enthralled and hungry for more.

Before he finished, Sir smiled at her. With quick, deft movements he lashed her sensitive nipples, first the right and then the left. Brie cried out in surprise, her tender nipples contracting achingly. He leaned over and licked them both before leaving her side, announcing, “But I’m not done with you yet.”

Sir retrieved something from the hood of his car and returned to her. She looked at his hand and shivered when she saw the small purple toy was partially made of ice.

“Your nipples look so sexy, all hard and pink. Let’s see if we can make them even harder.”

They were already so sore from her session with the clovers that Brie begged, “Please, no…Master.”

Sir raised an eyebrow, shaking his head in disappointment. “I distinctly heard the word no come from those sweet lips.”

Brie realized her error and corrected herself, “I meant only if it pleases you, Master.”

“That’s what I thought you meant to say.” He shrugged at Rytsar. “So, shall we see how hard we can make them?”

“
Da.
”

Brie couldn’t breathe as the men descended on her. Rytsar grasped her throat and growled into her ear, “This is what happens to subs who say no.”

Sir slid his hand between her legs. Brie struggled against her bonds when she felt the cold ice. The tool had little icy nodules on the end to add to the stimulation. and then…it started buzzing.

Rytsar kissed her hard as Sir rubbed the freezing-cold vibrator against her clit. Her poor nipples contracted into tight buds ripe for sucking. Both men took notice and descended on her breasts at the same time, each taking a nipple into his mouth.

With Rytsar’s hand still against her throat, Brie’s cry was muted when the men began sucking on them. She pressed against the trunk of the tree, overcome by the conflicting sensations coursing through her body—the warmth of their mouths, the chill of the vibrator, the soreness of her nipples and the overwhelming knowledge that both men were going to take her.

Tears ran down her cheeks as the first chilly orgasm hit and her body surged with forbidden pleasure. The men pulled back and stared at her critically.

“First she says no and then she comes without permission,” Sir remarked, sounding stunned.

“You have a very undisciplined sub,
moy droog
.”

“Apparently. Shall we see if we can make her come again?”

“Let’s.”

Brie shook her head no, but Rytsar grasped her throat again, tightening his hold until she offered no further resistance.

The ice-cold vibrator was applied to her clit, and she gasped when Sir turned it back on. The men studied her face while they lustfully squeezed and caressed her breasts, so when that first pulse hit, they both knew it.

Sir
tsked
. “She seems to have no self-control today. What did you do to her?”

“I made her fly.”

Her Master looked at her with sympathy. “Have you been played with too much, téa?”

Brie shook her head vigorously. However, her pussy would not be denied and she came again.

Sir took the toy from her and examined the ice vibrator. He seemed amused. “The heat of your orgasms seems to have melted my instrument, téa.”

“I’m sorry, Master.”

“I’m impressed, but before we play with you further, you will have to be punished for your transgressions.”

Sir undid the leather around her wrists while Rytsar released her ankles. The Russian Dom took the two strips of leather and walked over to the car. Sir stayed to undo the last one around her torso. As he untied it, he told her, “I enjoyed driving up and seeing you bound, in nothing more than snow boots.”