Brie Visits Master's Italy (After Graduation, #7)

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Brie Visits Master's Italy (After Graduation, #7) Page 4

by Red Phoenix


  Sir took the belts from her and gave Brie a peck on the cheek before releasing her from his lap. She made her way to her private seating area across the aisle. The middle seats did not have the same level of privacy, but they had all the other luxuries.

  Brie started pressing buttons and opening compartments to discover all the amenities the plane offered.

  The stewardess cleared her throat. Brie looked up and blushed with embarrassment. How unsophisticated could she get? She was handed the glass of wine and told to buckle her seatbelt.

  Sir gave her a wearying look after the woman left. “You act like such a child sometimes.”

  She sighed, disappointed in her lack of decorum. Brie stared at her lap and offered her apology. “I’m sorry, Sir.”

  “Curiosity killed the cat, Brie. Or in your case, it got her ass whipped.”

  Brie looked up at him in concern. “Please, Sir. I won’t play with any more gadgets, I promise.”

  He shook his head in disbelief. “I was joking, Brie. Do you honestly think I would punish you for your adventurous spirit?”

  “It’s just that… you are so worldly and refined, Sir, and I am…”

  “Bewitchingly curious,” he finished for her.

  The engines started up, announcing the beginning of their long flight. Brie smiled at him as she sat back in her seat. She buckled herself in, tightening the seatbelt around her waist, and sighed contentedly. Although he challenged her in daunting ways, he was good for her—building her up, helping her to be confident and fearless despite her lack of experience. Someday, she would be the sophisticated woman he deserved by his side.

  As soon as the airplane rose to cruising altitude, Sir stood up and motioned Brie to him. She looked at the six belts lying beside Sir’s seat and began shaking in fear. He noticed when he took her wrist to guide her to his chair.

  “Brie, this is going to be a positive experience. There is no need to fear me.”

  She swallowed hard before whispering, “The belts frighten me, Sir. I’m not sure why.”

  He slid the privacy partition closed stating, “Then this is a necessary lesson, Brie.”

  Brie’s heart began to race as he ordered, “Take off everything including your panties, but leave the skirt on.”

  She undressed and felt her nipples grow hard out of fear or exhilaration —she couldn’t tell.

  Sir adjusted the seat so that it leaned back at a forty-five degree angle. “Kneel on the chair, ankles at the edge, wrists resting against each armrest.”

  There was a mirror on the back wall. It faced a similar mirror above the TV screen on the opposite side. Not only did it give the small area a sense of more openness, it also allowed her to look at herself and gave her a limited view of Sir.

  He picked up the first belt. Brie expected that he would fold it in half to spank her with it. Instead, he kneeled down and secured her right ankle to the chair.

  Brie looked into the mirror and smiled. Belts as restraints!

  She glanced down to watch as he belted her ankle into place. These belts were specially modified with holes created just for this purpose. It made her wet to think of Sir altering the belts as he contemplated how he would use them on her.

  He was quick to belt her other ankle and both wrists. The fifth belt went around her waist. Brie was unsure of its purpose, but simply having his belt cinched around her made her loins hot with the possessive feel of it.

  He then took off the chain around his neck and undid her collar. It surprised her, because he’d insisted she wear it on the plane even though they’d had to remove it while going through security. She was curious why he’d been so adamant about it when he was taking it off now.

  Sir placed her beloved collar inside a drawer, along with his key, and picked up the sixth belt. It was wider than the others. Brie bit her lip as he placed the belt around her neck and tightened it. It was loose enough not to feel uncomfortable, but restrictive enough to keep her aware of its presence.

  She looked in the reflection of the mirror and saw Sir staring back at her. She was completely and totally covered in Master’s belts. It was an erotic feeling, being bound in Sir like this.

  “Who are you?”

  “Téa.”

  “Who owns you?”

  “You do, Master.”

  Sir undid his tie and rolled up his sleeves. Keeping eye contact with her, he unbuckled the belt around his waist and slowly pulled it out of the belt loops. Brie let out a tiny gasp, her helplessness and fear somehow culminating into something deliciously thrilling.

  “Not a sound,” he commanded as he lifted her skirt.

  Brie was surprised he had not given her a gag. In a public place like this, it would have been appreciated. Instead, he was expecting her to remain in complete control. Then it dawned on her that this was similar to the lesson on the balance beam. She’d had to concentrate on remaining still while he teased her with the electricity of the violet wand.

  The man was remarkably wise in his scening.

  Sir grabbed the end of the belt around her neck and applied just enough pressure to focus her attention solely on him. With his other hand he began lightly slapping her ass with his belt. The sound of the hard leather striking her skin was sultry. The feel was similar to a light flogging.

  “Do you like, téa?”

  She remembered his command to be silent and only nodded her head slightly. The belt around her throat did not allow for the freedom of movement.

  Sir continued to warm her buttocks with the belt, hitting with more power, but not bringing the biting pain she feared. He concentrated on his work, keeping the tension around her throat while carefully placing the strikes of the belt so that it covered every inch of her skin.

  Every once in a while he would stop to stare at her in the mirror. The lust radiating in his eyes made Brie weak.

  “We’re almost done here,” he announced. She watched as he pulled back for a more forceful strike. Brie closed her eyes and squelched the cry that erupted in her throat when the belt made contact with her skin. It was challenging, but not overwhelming. Just enough force to bring biting pleasure.

  He let the belt fall, the buckle clanking as it hit the floor. Then he caressed her skin with his free hand, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. “I shall never tire of this ass.”

  Sir moved into position behind her. She watched him unbutton his pants and ease his cock out of his briefs. He stroked his shaft several times before pressing it against her wet pussy. Sir pulled a little harder on the belt around her neck, forcing her to arch her back as he slipped inside.

  “Good girl,” he said quietly.

  Not crying out during the session with the belt was nothing compared to keeping silent as her Master fucked her. The unique position he had her restrained in gave him a stimulating angle, one that allowed his cock to rub hard against her G-spot with every thrust.

  He upped the sensation by grabbing the belt around her waist and using it as extra leverage to pound her deeper. Brie panted hard, wanting to scream—to fill the airplane with the sound of her pleasure.

  She kept her eyes on Sir, in total love and lust with the man who possessed her.

  As he reached his climax, Sir threw his head back and grunted quietly. Brie closed her eyes and concentrated on the feel of his cock releasing the warmth of his seed deep within her, while the pressure of the belt at her neck reminded Brie of her place—she was totally and completely his.

  Isabella

  Sir’s family lived on an island, an hour’s journey by ferry from the main coast. Brie found that completely enchanting, but the city itself was captivating in its own right.

  Brie couldn’t hide her grin as Sir guided her through the narrow streets of his father’s hometown of Portoferraio. The old apartments were charming with their brightly painted doors and colorful shutters.

  Sir explained as they walked, “People mainly take the bus or walk here. As you can see, cars are impractical.”


  Brie looked at the narrow streets and nodded in understanding. She squeezed his hand and announced, “I prefer walking, Sir.”

  He placed his hand behind her back and guided her through a group of chatty women. One of them looked at Sir and then took a second glance. He didn’t seem to notice, but the woman whispered to the others and they all turned to stare at him. Brie wondered if it was possible the group recognized him.

  Sir took her up a steep hill where the street had tiny steps the entire way up. He led her to an attractive apartment with a vivid red door.

  He took a deep breath before he knocked. From deep inside the building Brie heard a woman complaining. After several minutes the door opened and a middle-aged woman complained at them in Italian, but she stopped midsentence when she saw Sir. He smiled and put his finger to his lips.

  Her eyes widened wide and then she threw her arms around him. Brie stepped back so they could greet each other properly. The woman grabbed his hand and started dragging him inside, shouting up the stairs.

  Sir glanced back at Brie. “I told my aunt to keep it a secret. My grandmother does not know it’s me.” He winked at her. “This should be amusing.”

  Brie followed closely behind him, anxious to see the look on his grandmother’s face after so many years of separation. She saw a little old lady hunched over in a chair facing the balcony. Sir’s aunt touched her shoulder and pointed towards him.

  The elderly woman turned and time stood still in the small room.

  Her face lit up when she recognized her grandson. The tiny woman struggled to stand as she reached out for him. He was by her side in an instant.

  His grandmother grabbed Sir’s cheeks, pulling his face close to hers.

  “Nonna,” he said with tenderness, wrapping his arms around her small frame and picking her up off the ground.

  Tears of joy ran down the woman’s wrinkled cheeks. “Nipotino…”

  Brie felt tears prick her own eyes as she watched the touching reunion of grandmother and grandson. She reflected on the pain the old woman must have felt at losing her talented son eighteen years ago to suicide, but that was not all she lost. She’d lost her grandson as well due to the traumatic circumstances surrounding her son’s death. How tragic for them both…

  An elderly gentleman slowly made his way down the stairs from the floor above. He looked at Brie in confusion and then turned to stare at Sir.

  “Thane!” he shouted, a toothless grin spreading across his sunken face.

  Sir held out one hand to him while still holding onto his grandmother. “Nonno!”

  The old man was all skin and bones, but had a vitality that filled the room. He took Sir’s hand and shook it vigorously, laughing with gusto.

  The aunt couldn’t contain her excitement and impulsively hugged Brie. She understood the woman’s joy and returned the hug, glad to be included in the moment.

  Sir gestured Brie to him and said something to his grandparents. The old woman let go of Sir briefly and pinched Brie’s cheeks with her thin fingers. “Grazie mille.” Brie was shocked when his grandmother kissed her smack on the lips before letting her go.

  The little old woman grabbed back onto Sir, looking as if she would never release her hold again.

  The love radiating in the room was overwhelming and the joyous look in Sir’s eyes was a sight to behold. Brie had never seen him so open and vulnerable except on a few occasions when he was alone with her. It made her heart sing to see him truly happy.

  Although Brie could not understand a word spoken, she quietly found a seat in the corner and enjoyed the role of silent observer to the jubilant reunion of Sir with his grandparents. It was obvious there was a lot of catching up to do as words rushed out of the mouths of all involved.

  But the chatter stopped the moment the door opened from below and a woman’s sweet voice laced with an Italian accent called from downstairs. “Is that you, Thane Davis? Is it really you?” Sir looked in the direction of the voice and had to act quickly as a beautiful brunette threw herself into his arms.

  The entire atmosphere in the room changed. The aunt glanced at Brie nervously and then looked to the grandparents who now only had eyes for the woman in Sir’s arms.

  Brie noticed the subtle way Sir held the beauty at bay, but there was no mistaking the look of attraction in his eyes. They knew each other, they knew each other well…

  “Isabella, what are you doing here?” Sir asked.

  “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I be here, Thane? I ran as fast as I could as soon as I got word you were back!” She tiptoed and gave him a peck on the lips before he could stop her.

  Sir held her at arm’s length. “Bell…”

  The brunette smiled at him playfully, not heeding his subtle warning. “I have waited all these years because I knew this day would come.”

  Sir directed the girl towards Brie. “Isabella, this is Brianna Bennett.”

  Brie stood up, ready to shake hands with a woman who looked to be the same age as Sir. However, the color drained from the beauty’s face as she stared at Brie. Isabella said nothing to her, focusing her attention back on Sir.

  “A friend?” she asked hopefully.

  “We’re a couple, Bell.”

  The woman shook her head in disbelief and pushed away from him, running down the stairs crying hysterically.

  Sir looked at Brie. “I have to go after Isabella. Stay here.” He headed down the stairs, jumping down the stairs two at a time to catch up.

  The room was suddenly silent and uncomfortable. To escape it, Brie headed out to the balcony. There she inadvertently witnessed the scene play out between Isabella and Sir on the streets below.

  Master held her firmly with both hands, even as the woman tried to pull away. He was talking to her, although Brie could not make out what he was saying.

  Isabella began hitting his chest in anger but then collapsed into his arms, sobbing violently. Sir held her like a lover as he comforted the brunette.

  It hurt Brie to see it and she collapsed, staring at them through the iron bars. Who was that woman?

  The grandfather came out to join her and held out his hand to Brie. She was hesitant to take it, but allowed him to help her back to her feet. Sir’s grandfather pointed to the sea and began talking to her. Even though she didn’t understand his words she pretended to, grateful for the distraction. She listened to the strong timbre in his voice, admiring his commanding gaze, and silently wondered if all the men in Sir’s lineage were natural Dominants.

  When Sir finally returned, he came straight to Brie and put his arm around her. He said something to his grandfather who frowned but nodded curtly.

  Sir spoke to Brie next. “We are leaving so you and I can talk.” He led her from the balcony to the stairs, but stopped to give his grandmother a kiss good-bye. The old woman started arguing with him, holding onto his hand in a death grip.

  It was heartbreaking to see Sir attempt to gently pry himself from her tight grasp. The terror on his grandmother’s face spoke to her fears that she would never see him again, but the grandfather barked a command and she let go.

  Sir guided Brie down the stairs to the sound of the old woman’s pleading.

  As soon Sir shut the door behind them, he leaned against the building, taking a few moments to gather himself before commanding Brie to walk beside him. While they strolled down the street he explained, “Isabella was my childhood sweetheart. Our families are extremely close, and it was assumed by all that we would marry when we were older.”

  “I can tell you have a connection,” Brie replied lightly, even though it pained her to say it.

  “We were very close… once.”

  Brie wasn’t sure she wanted to know, but she forced herself to ask, “What happened, Sir?”

  He took his time in answering her, looking troubled when he finally spoke. “After my father died I wanted nothing to do with love, marriage, or women.” He paused and then stated candidly, “I sent Isabella a letter explainin
g that I never planned to marry.”

  Those last words cut Brie to the quick. Even though they had never talked of marriage, she had secretly hoped someday he would marry her.

  Sir continued, “I explained in the letter that I would not be returning to Italy and broke off all contact with her. It has been that way for eighteen years. I never considered that Isabella might await my return; that she held onto the belief I would come back for her one day. Unfortunately, that unspoken hope compromised her subsequent relationships.”

  Brie heard the regret in his voice and her heart constricted.

  Sir took her hand and held it tight. “Both families expected the marriage, I do not doubt even now they hold out hope.” He stopped in the middle of the street and turned her to face him, stating solemnly, “I’m sorry, Brie. I do not know if my extended family will be receptive to our union any more than your parents.”

  “I can handle it, Sir,” Brie assured him, grateful that he was stating his intention to fight his family’s wishes.

  Sir brushed her cheek with his thumb and smiled before he continued down the street. After several minutes, he let out a deep sigh. “Oh, Isabella… what a waste.”

  There was nothing she could say in response. It was romantic and heartbreaking that his childhood sweetheart had waited for him all these years. There was a part of Brie that wanted to hate her, but in all honesty she only had empathy for the woman.

  Condor Love

  After a day of exploring the island of Isola d’Elba with its luscious greenery, rocky cliffs and mixture of sandy and pebbly beaches, the two were invited to dinner at Isabella’s family home. Although Brie wanted to avoid her like the plague, Sir insisted they attend.

  “This is my family, Brie. To turn down this invitation would be the same as turning down your parents. We will use this as an opportunity for everyone to meet you. To see the extraordinary woman I see.”

  Despite the doubts that assailed her, she knew showing a lack of confidence would only cause others to question Sir’s choice. It was with a courageous heart she faced the evening with Isabella, determined to act secure in her role as Sir’s partner.

 

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