by Red Phoenix
When she arrived home, she had to wait in the oppressive silence of the apartment. It was actually humiliating not to undress, because it only highlighted the fact she was not pleasing to Sir. She knelt by the door and listened to the lonely ticking of the clock in the kitchen. Each tick accentuated the dread building in her heart.
He came home just as the sun disappeared behind the horizon. The apartment was dark when Sir opened the door. He flicked on the light and walked past Brie, setting his key on the counter. She heard his retreating footsteps as he walked to his room.
Several minutes later, Sir returned and addressed her. His voice was detached and unemotional. “I will not touch you until your punishment is complete.”
Not to have his reassuring touch made this horrible moment that much harder, and a tear fell down her cheek.
“Why are you being corrected?”
“I failed to tell you of my interaction with Mr. Wallace, Master.”
“Why is that unacceptable?”
“No Dom is allowed to interact with me without your consent. My silence is the same as lying, Master.”
“Are you repentant?”
“Yes, Master.” A sob escaped her lips. “I am deeply sorry.”
“Then I shall correct your repentant heart,” he replied. Sir proceeded to place a ball gag in her mouth and secured it tightly around her head, being careful not to touch her with his hands. “The gag represents your willful silence.”
Her jaw stretched uncomfortably to accommodate the gag, and then the saliva began to build. She understood it was an appropriate instrument of punishment for her transgression.
“You acted like a disobedient child, therefore I shall treat you like one. Go to the kitchen and get the bag of rice.”
She quickly retrieved the rice and handed it over to him with her head bowed. She couldn’t imagine what he had in mind.
Sir took a handful of rice and spread it in a line on the floor. Then he took a second handful and covered the line with another layer. He handed the bag back to her. “Put it away and return to me.”
She did so with trepidation. What did the rice represent?
“Because you are unworthy to be naked before me, pull your pants up so that your knees are exposed.” She did so, watching with mortification as a long strand of saliva escaped her mouth and dribbled slowly to the floor when she bent over to roll up her jeans.
“I do not enjoy punishing you.”
She actually felt bad that her actions were forcing Sir to do this, and bowed her head lower in shame.
“Kneel on the rice with your weight resting on your knees.”
Brie knelt down slowly, positioning both knees on the hard little pellets. It didn’t become painful until she did as he commanded and put her full weight on her knees. She moaned in distress, the ball gag muffling her cry of discomfort.
“You will remain this way for twenty minutes.”
He went to the couch and began his work. She watched from the floor, trying to ignore the agony each tiny grain caused as it dug mercilessly into her knees. It seemed unreal that something so miniscule could cause such considerable pain.
As the clock ticked away the minutes, she tried to blink away the tears. Although it hurt, it was knowing she’d disappointed Sir that made the punishment truly unbearable. Thinking on it, she realized that not mentioning her encounter with Faelan was the same as putting the boy before Sir. It was glaringly clear to her now.
Being completely open and honest with Master was the only thing that mattered. How it affected others was not her concern. Brie accepted the pain as her obligation as a disobedient submissive. She would learn from it and would not let it happen again.
When the twenty minutes were up, Sir spoke to her again. “Get the broom and dustpan. Clean up your mess and then come stand before me.”
Brie could not immediately stand because of the debilitating pain, and was forced to roll to one side. She brushed off the rice still clinging to her skin and pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them, rocking gently to comfort herself. Once the torturous ache had subsided enough for her to stand, she picked herself up and did his bidding before presenting herself before Master.
Sir put his work down and stood up, holding a small towel in his hand. He undid the ball gag, and cleaned up the copious amounts of spittle that came with it. Once she was presentable again, he spoke.
“Have you learned your lesson?”
“Yes, Master. I will not keep anything from you in the future.”
“Fine. You may undress, then.”
With stiff movements, she took off her clothes and laid them in a neat pile beside her.
Sir held out his hands to her. “It’s okay, téa. I forgive you.”
Brie broke out in a sob and fell into his arms. He picked her up and carried her to his bedroom, then laid her down on the bed. After he’d shed his clothes Sir joined her, gathering her into his protective embrace. She could not stop the tears as she cried against his chest. Sir allowed her to weep, holding her tight. Eventually he whispered, “Hush now, Brie. You are my good girl.”
There was no hot sex afterwards, no sexual games, just a Master holding his repentant submissive in the dark.
“I love you, Sir.” Being reconnected with him was like being given a new lease on life. She felt she would burst with joy.
Sir nuzzled her neck and then bit down hard. She instantly became putty. “Tomorrow we are going to visit the Training Center.”
“Why, Sir?” She gasped as he began sucking on the delicate skin of her throat.
“There is something I want to show you.” Brie whimpered in pleasure, a host of images filling her mind. “Oh yes, my little sub. It’s about to get rough for you…”
Visiting the Center
Brie stared at Sir as the first of the sun’s rays flooded through the window. His face took on an almost boyish quality while he slept. It was sexy and so incredibly sweet. She was tempted to gently caress his cheek, but Sir must have sensed her inclination because he opened his eyes.
Brie gasped softly, her whole body quivering.
“Morning, téa.”
She broke out into a shy smile. “Good morning, Master.”
“Waking up to your beautiful face has moved me.” He threw back the covers so she could admire his hard awakening. “Service me.”
Her smile grew wider as she crawled between Sir’s legs and took him into her mouth. Brie lavished her love with an eager tongue, swirling around his smooth head before sucking lightly to bring added pleasure. She moaned when he fisted her long hair and began guiding her with his hand. Did Sir know it melted her insides when he did that?
“I love starting the morning with your pink lips wrapped around my cock.”
She looked up at Sir as she continued to suck his handsome manhood. He pushed her down deeper on his shaft and she gladly took its fullness, letting the head of his cock slip down her throat.
“Oh yes,” he growled.
Her muffled moan expressed the pleasure she felt from being his. Sir was not rough, but always demanding. He had a way of using her for his own gratification, but making her feel completely cherished in the process.
Brie’s pussy pulsed of its own accord in response to his pleasure. When he released deep in her throat there was a significant exchange of power: his male dominance over her, and her total submission to him—balance. It was the perfect way to start the day.
Afterwards, Brie laid her head on his thigh and looked up at him lovingly. Sir stroked her hair with a contented look on his face. “Tonight we shall visit the Center. I hope you are ready for what I have planned.”
Her loins contracted with a mixture of excitement and trepidation.
Brie spent the day at the tobacco shop showing the two newest employees the ropes. It looked like Mr. Reynolds had at least one good worker. The niece was a whiny little thing, complaining constantly and texting her friends instead of listening. Brie knew Laur
el would be nothing but a pain for her soon-to-be ex-boss, a perfect replacement for Jeff. However, the nephew was acceptable. Mike was a quick study and showed respect towards Mr. Reynolds. Brie was tempted to tell Mr. Reynolds to fire the girl and only keep the boy, but her boss had no real control over the hiring at the shop.
When she arrived home, she was surprised to find that her entire apartment had been moved into the spare bedroom and the large room was now completely stacked with boxes and cheap furniture. Upon entering Sir’s bedroom, she noticed her old uniform laid out on the bed. It was exactly the same: the dark brown miniskirt and leather corset, as well as the six-inch heels. However, the crotchless pantyhose had been replaced with lace garters and silk thigh-highs. The thong was noticeably missing.
She picked up the card that was lying on the bed and read his note:
Had your belongings moved. We will discuss placement later.
Dress in your uniform and wait for me at the door.
Brie dutifully dressed, feeling nostalgic as she tightened the laces of the corset and slipped on the fuck-me heels. She took a quick peek at herself in the mirror before leaving the bedroom, looking herself over critically.
Would people confuse her for a trainee at the Center because of the outfit? She turned her head from side to side and twirled slowly, staring at her reflection. The garters and new hose were a sexy touch, giving her a more refined look. The collar certainly helped state her position, but she still felt very much like a trainee in the outfit. Was that Sir’s point?
She settled down before the door and waited for her Master to come. Exactly at six, she heard the key in the lock. He walked in and graced her with a pleased smile. “Ah, my little student. Are you ready for class to begin?” He placed a hand on her head and commanded, “Stand and serve your Master.”
She stood before him as he held out his arm. She was mortified when her stomach growled as she was wrapping her arm around his. He looked down at her and smiled knowingly.
Brie felt the heat rise to her face. How unsexy to greet Sir with a growling stomach.
He made no mention of it, but when Sir got to the car he reached behind his seat and pulled an apple out of his briefcase. “I believe in the adage, ‘An apple a day…’”
Brie took the apple and murmured, “Thank you, Sir.” She smiled to herself as she bit into the tart apple, grateful she had such a thoughtful Master.
He remained silent on the drive, leaving Brie free to conjure up all kinds of different scenarios Sir might try on her. He had specifically mentioned the night before that things were going to get rough. What did that mean? Was he going to test her pain tolerance? The thought of that was definitely not sexy, but she trusted him to bring her through it if that was his intent.
Perhaps he was going to punish her further for her deceit involving Faelan? Brie quickly dismissed that idea. She knew in her heart that Sir was a fair man. She had endured the punishment for her indiscretion and had received his complete forgiveness.
Brie licked the sweetness from her lips as they pulled into the Training Center parking lot. It was strange to be back, knowing she was no longer a student.
Although classes for the Submissive Training Center were on hiatus, the business college was still in full swing and the parking lot was full. Unlike before, Sir did not park in the spot reserved for the headmaster of the Center. It remained empty, announcing the fact that a new one had not been appointed yet. It gave her a pang of guilt knowing Sir had stepped down from his position to become her Master. She wondered if he was feeling similar pains of regret.
“I will open the door for you, téa,” he stated. The use of her sub name let her know the protocol. She was to treat him as Master at the Center. No eye contact with other dominants and no speaking unless spoken to by her Master.
As he helped her out of the car, he ran his hand down the length of her curves. Goosebumps followed. Such simple contact, but it instantly set her focus on him and reminded her of the power of his caress.
They walked into the school, arm in arm. The receptionist greeted him. “Good evening, Headm—I mean, Sir Davis. It is good to see you again.”
“Likewise, Miss Lewis.”
He continued to the elevator, putting his arm around Brie when a group of students walked past. Brie kept her eyes lowered, basking in his manly protection.
Sir took her down a wing of the school she had never been before. As she passed through the doorway, she read the word Faculty Lounge on the gold plate. The scent of rich tobacco filled the air along with the sound of many familiar voices.
“Couldn’t stay away, I see,” Master Anderson said. He came over to Sir and slapped him on the back with the same casual familiarity the two had shared the first time she’d been introduced to him.
“I have no problem staying away, but damn if you people didn’t insist I come back.”
Master Coen’s voice rang out from the other side of the room. “I apologize, but we didn’t anticipate assigning a new headmaster just before a new session. There are many loose ends to be addressed.”
“So you say,” Sir answered jokingly. “I accept it as the price I must pay to have free rein of the place after we are done here today.”
Brie’s insides quivered at the thought of Sir unleashed.
A woman’s soft voice floated through the air. “How are you, Sir Davis? Are you happy with your new submissive?” Brie kept her eyes glued to the floor. Her mind raced to place the feminine voice, quickly identifying her as the Asian Domme who owned Boa. Boa, the sub with a python for a cock.
Brie held her breath, waiting for Sir’s answer. Would he expose her mistake with Faelan in front of the other trainers?
“I’m finding the experience challenging and quite stimulating.”
Master Anderson laughed. “I bet you are, Thane. You picked a fine one to partner with. She won’t let you rest, I wager.” He hit Sir so hard on the shoulder that he momentarily lost his balance. “I have to admit though, I was a little put out when you stepped down. It was enjoyable working with you, reminded me of our college days.”
Sir’s low chuckle was like music to Brie’s ears. “College was—”
Master Coen interrupted their reverie. “Enough of the reminiscing, we have work to do. Where’s Clark?”
The door opened as if on cue and Ms. Clark’s voice rang out loud and clear. “Back already, Davis? Wait… Miss Bennett, what are you doing here?” The woman stopped abruptly in her tracks and said sarcastically, “You do realize this is a faculty lounge.”
Sir’s reply was controlled, but with a slight edge to it. “Address me, Samantha. Not my submissive.”
Oh, what fun having Sir correct Ms. Clark on her behalf! Brie wished she could peek just to see the look on the female trainer’s face.
“Forgive me, Sir Davis. I am still wrapping my head around the fact you broke all protocol and collared a student. My apologies.”
“It is precisely due to protocol that I resigned, Samantha,” he said dryly.
Brie heard the disdain in his voice when he used Ms. Clark’s given name. But why was he calling her by her first name? Did they have a history together?
“It was foolish,” Ms. Clark snorted. “We’ve lost a perfectly good headmaster and the Center’s reputation has been compromised because of your impulsive actions.”
Mr. Gallant’s warm voice filled the room, making Brie’s soul sigh in happiness. “That is not true. Although people are certainly talking about the Collaring Ceremony, I have not heard any ridicule towards the school, nor towards Sir Davis himself. Do not exaggerate, Ms. Clark.”
There was one voice that was suspiciously silent. Marquis Gray.
“Regardless of your opinion, Samantha, I am asking that you treat Miss Bennett and I as you would any D/s couple. You are not allowed to speak to her directly without my permission.”
“Fine,” she snapped. “But I demand your submissive leave the faculty lounge.”
“Fair e
nough,” Sir responded. Before commanding Brie to leave, he addressed Master Coen. “I did have a question for you.”
“Certainly,” Master Coen replied, moving across the room to join him.
“Would you be able to fashion an iron brand for me?”
“Not a problem. What is it you want?”
“The letter ‘T’, exactly an inch in height and half an inch wide.’”
Brie gasped. A brand?
“That should be easy enough. How soon do you need it?”
Sir’s voice was pleasant when he answered. “There’s no rush.”
“Good, then I’ll start work on it after we get the new recruits settled in.”
“That should be fine.” Sir turned to Brie and said, “Téa, Ms. Clark is correct. Submissives normally stay in another room at the end of the hall to your left. I will collect you after our work here is concluded.”
She stole a glance at him when she answered, hoping to gain some insight into the exchange he’d just had with Master Coen. “Yes, Master.”
The mischievous twinkle in his eyes let her know he had plans for that brand—and they most definitely included her. A chill coursed down her spine. Did he mean it as a warning or an honor?
Brie bowed to Sir before quietly leaving the room. She let out a huge sigh once the door was closed. She was concerned about Marquis’ absence, but it was the brand that had all of her attention. She had not forgotten the day Master Coen had convinced her he was going to brand her with the school logo. She shuddered, feeling quite certain that Sir was not into ‘mind fucks’ the way Master Coen was.
No, Sir had already warned her that everything he did had purpose. She didn’t believe for one second it was meant as a joke. There was a lesson there she was expected to learn. She shook off her trepidation as she pushed open the door to the new room.
To her surprise, Boa was sitting on a couch. He nodded at her. “Ah, it’s Brie. The sub who captured the headmaster. You have quite the reputation around the Center these days.”