Brie’s Russian Treat Page 3

  Brie was bereft when she woke up in an empty bed early the next morning.

  “Sir?” she called. When she got no answer, Brie slipped out from under the covers, and was flustered to discover she was completely naked. She looked around the room, grateful when she spied her clothes folded on a chair. She breathed a sigh of relief, trusting it was Sir who’d undressed her. But why didn’t he join me in bed?

  After donning her clothes, she peeked her head out of the room. There sat Sir and Rytsar, chatting away with glasses of vodka in their hands.

  “Drinking in the morning, Sir?” she chided playfully when she emerged from the room.

  He looked at his watch and winked at her. “Nope, we never stopped.”

  Rytsar nudged Sir and asked, “Want to toast to the morning?”

  “Why not?”

  Rytsar poured two large glasses.

  Brie stared at them in shock, surprised that they had nearly finished off two bottles of vodka. “What did you two do all night, besides drink?”

  “There was much discussion, my little sub.” Sir took the glass Rytsar handed him, and picked up a pickle before toasting. “To my bastard of a friend, who doesn’t deserve to lick my boots.”

  Rytsar’s low laughter filled the apartment. “To my grouchy comrade, who needs to find where he misplaced his humor.”

  The two clinked glasses and chugged. It was perversely interesting to watch, considering how much vodka was already flowing in their veins. They slammed the glasses down and consumed their pickles with gusto.

  Sir turned to Brie afterwards. “I’m glad to see you’re awake. I’ve missed your presence.”

  Brie knelt on the floor beside him and laid her head on his lap, purring when he began stroking her hair. “I’m sorry I missed your conversations, Sir.”

  “It was for the best, radost moya,” Rytsar assured her.

  Brie didn’t feel that way at all. She wanted to learn everything there was to know about these two, and knew vodka made them unusually open and talkative. “So…what did you discuss, Master?” she asked provocatively, rubbing her hand against his inner thigh.

  He looked down at her with a mischievous smile that hinted at secrets unknown. “We talked about our college days and a certain list that needed to be made…”

  “Oh, you tease me so.”

  “I like to keep you on your toes, téa. It keeps you strong and focused.”

  She turned to Rytsar. “He definitely keeps me on my toes. Did he tell you about his latest challenge at the commune?”

  Rytsar nodded. “I could imagine your pussy quivering for a stranger as he lubed up his cock for your enjoyment.”

  “It wasn’t just my pussy that was quivering.” Brie laid her head back on Sir’s thigh. “But my Master never steers me in the wrong direction. I trust him completely.”

  “It is equally met, little sub,” Sir replied, lifting her chin. “You force me to face the emotions I’m unwilling to confront.”

  “We’re the perfect team,” she said, kissing his hand.

  “I would find you two sickening but for the fact you are my good friends.”

  Sir chuckled. “I would find us nauseating as well. However…” He paused, looking down at Brie. “I can’t get enough of her.”

  Rytsar held up the nearly empty bottle of vodka, but Sir declined. The Russian poured the last of it into his glass and downed it. He snapped his fingers, and from seemingly out of nowhere, his bodyguard Titov produced two packages.

  “As you know, I have been waiting for this day with impatience ever since you told me you had news to share, moy droog.” He added with a glint in his eye, “It’s taken you long enough.”

  Rytsar nodded to the guard, and the man handed Brie one of the gifts. She tore at it excitedly, wondering what pre-wedding surprise he had picked out for them. She was a tad shocked when she pulled out a tiny dress of excessive pink lace.

  Brie couldn’t help but laugh, and shook her head at him.

  “No?” he asked in surprise. “Not a problem.” The bodyguard handed her the second gift and Brie dutifully opened it.

  It was a miniature tux of blue. Brie blushed, shaking her head again.

  Rytsar looked utterly devastated and turned to Sir. “No malyshka?”

  Sir stood up and put his hand on the Russian’s shoulder. “No, my friend. I was simply going to ask you to be the best man at my wedding.”

  Rytsar gave Sir a look of disgust, then turned to Brie with a charming grin. “Radost Moya, you would have a round belly and we would be anticipating our first dotchka if you were mine.”

  Brie giggled. “Rytsar, I’m not ready to have babies yet!” She held up both baby outfits and shrugged. “Seriously, I’m only twenty-three and I have a film career to think about.”

  Rytsar motioned her to him. Brie stood and walked over, leaning close when he said in a secretive tone, “The sooner you start your little family, the sooner they fly the nest.” He added for emphasis, “Your Master isn’t getting any younger.”

  “I heard that.”

  “I only speak the truth, moy droog. If your little sub is to stand any chance of being a mother, you need to start making your fucking count.”

  Brie burst out in a giggle.

  “I think I will withdraw your best man status,” Sir growled.

  “If you are a man who cannot handle the truth, then yes, by all means withdraw the honor,” Rytsar challenged with a wicked grin.

  “If you are so anxious for children, why not impregnate one of your subs? I’m sure there is at least one who would be happy to carry your child.”

  Rytsar shook his head. “I’m far too young for such commitment, but not to be a dyadya.”

  “You’re a year older than me,” Sir challenged.

  “Ah, but you have found ‘the one’ and I have not. A child should be conceived in love, no?”

  Sir only grunted his agreement.

  Rytsar held his massive arms out as if he were cradling a baby. “To hold and spoil a tiny version of radost moya…” he said wistfully.

  “And if it’s a boy?” Sir questioned.

  “It won’t be.”

  “All this talk of babies has me craving a pickle,” Brie said, grabbing one off the tray and munching on it.

  “The day you refuse my vodka is the day I will know you are pregnant.” Rytsar snapped his fingers and Titov fetched a new bottle. “Will you have a drink with me?”

  Brie looked at Sir.

  “Do as you wish.”

  Not wanting to be left out, Brie nodded. “Please, Rytsar.”

  “Although that is not the answer I wanted, I am pleased to fill your glass. Zyr has become my vodka of choice. Let me know what you think.”

  She downed the fiery alcohol at the same time as Rytsar, surprised that it went down so smoothly, far more easily than she’d been expecting, with only a hint of bitterness afterwards.

  “What do you think, rodost moya?”

  She smiled. “It’s surprisingly good!”

  He held his pickle to his lips, so she did the same and they both bit down on the salty treat. Brie giggled as she chewed on the pickle while looking into Rytsar’s eyes.

  “Do you think you can handle Durov for a couple of days?” Sir asked her.

  Brie turned to her Master and replied solemnly, “If he has agreed to the terms you have set, then yes. I trust your judgment completely.” She embraced the warmth the vodka caused and added proudly, “I would do anything you asked, Sir.”

  “Count yourself lucky I do not have a wicked heart, because that statement could get you in a lot of trouble, Miss Bennett,” Sir teased.

  Brie liked the easy banter that alcohol seemed to bring about.

  “I will make the best of the limited access I’ve been afforded,” Rytsar murmured resentfully.

  “A tight rein is the only way I would allow you control over her. I know you, Durov.”

  “Da. At least you have agreed to the club.”

&n
bsp; Brie’s interest was piqued. “Club?”

  Rytsar’s grin was wickedly intimidating. “A favorite underground BDSM club of mine with a decidedly sadistic slant.”

  Brie turned to Sir in surprise, her mouth agape.

  “You did just say you would do anything I asked.”

  She closed her slack jaw and nodded.

  “My requirements of Durov are very specific.”

  “Too restrictive,” Rytsar complained.

  Sir assured Brie, “You will not be compromised, but you will be tested.” He handed Rytsar all the items off the coffee table one by one, then commanded her in a sensuous tone, “Undress and lie on the table for me, téa.”

  Brie smiled as she slowly removed her clothes for her Master, wanting to entice them both with her disrobing without making it a blatant striptease, which Sir had not asked for.

  He helped her onto the table and ran his hand over her body. “I think we bite her.”

  Rytsar moved to the other side. “Agreed.”

  Brie held her breath as both men leaned down and took a bite of her thighs. Neither was gentle as they bruised her skin between their teeth and she gasped.

  “Too much?” Sir asked.

  “No, Master.”

  “I will start at her toes, you go for the neck,” Sir instructed his friend.

  Brie whimpered when Rytsar stared at her with those penetrating blue eyes before nestling his warm lips against her throat. He started out so tender, lightly kissing and teasing…

  The instant Sir bit down on her sensitive arch, Rytsar sank his teeth into her, sucking hard as he bit. The dual sensations at opposite ends was too much and she instinctively tried to twist out of their reach.

  Strong hands held her down, her action only inciting more of their delightfully cruel play. Brie whimpered as Rytsar took samples of her neck, breasts and torso as Sir moved from her toes to her thighs and up to her quivering pussy.

  They licked, nipped and bruised her most sensitive areas with those wicked teeth, making her crazy with desire even as she squirmed beneath them to avoid the momentary pinpoints of pain.

  Master knew her attraction to being bitten, but to be bitten by these two men—to be marked by their passion—what more could a girl want?

  With a husky voice, Sir announced, “She’s very wet.”

  “We may have a masochist yet,” Rytsar said, biting harder until she yelped. Brie shook her head. He chuckled as he moved to a new spot to torture with his lips and teeth.

  She felt Sir’s fingers rim her wet opening and she moaned as two fingers slipped in, but quickly stiffened when she felt Rytsar’s fingers push their way in too, stretching her tight.

  It so closely reminded her of Mary’s encounter that her pussy began to pulsate in an impending orgasm.

  “No coming, téa.”

  Brie groaned as she fought off the urge while both men forced their fingers deeper inside her. She was ravenous to be overfilled by them, and bucked her hips upwards. They obliged her need and began pumping her in unison, rubbing vigorously against her G-spot.

  She instantly realized her mistake and tried to pull away, but Rytsar dug his fingers into her waist, preventing her escape.

  Brie tossed her head back and forth, begging them to stop. “Please, no more. No more, Master…”

  Neither man listened to her desperate pleas. In a last-ditch effort, Brie stilled herself and tried to concentrate on a spot on the ceiling. She almost succeeded, until each man grasped one of her wrists with his free hand and bit down on her sensitive skin.

  She. Was. Lost.

  Brie came hard and strong, her body clamping down on the four fingers inside her as her pussy gushed with watery come.

  Tears rolled down her cheeks from the intensity of her climax and the knowledge that she had failed to obey Sir’s command. She lowered her hips to the table in resignation as they pulled out their wet fingers and looked at each other, saying nothing.

  What will happen to me now?

  “Why did you disobey me?”

  Brie did not offer any excuses. “I was greedy, Master.”

  Rytsar broke out in laughter. “I appreciate her honesty.”

  Sir couldn’t hide his smile as she explained, “I wanted it too much and then I couldn’t stop myself when I needed to pull back.”

  “How shall we punish such wanton behavior, téa?”

  Brie swallowed, unsure if her answer would be well received but feeling too giddy to stop herself. “Make me come again?”

  This time Sir was the one who started laughing.

  “You have a cheeky sub, moy droog,” Rytsar said, chuckling with them, but then he became scary-serious. “She must be punished.”

  The smile on Brie’s lips disappeared when Sir replied, “I agree, Durov.”

  Brie whimpered as each man undid his buckle and slid his belt from his pants. “I’m sorry, Master. I was trying to be funny. Please…”

  “What you consider humor, I call insolence,” Rytsar replied coldly. “This will hurt you far more than it will hurt me. Kneel on the table with your hands behind your neck.”

  Brie looked at Sir and he nodded. Shocked by the turn of events, she pulled herself up into a kneeling position and clasped her hands behind her—her whole body shaking with fear.

  Instead of hitting her with the belt, Sir fastened his around her neck, pulling tightly so that she felt the constrictive pressure of it.

  “That is a pretty picture,” Rytsar complimented him.

  Sir reached over and pulled on the belt, forcing her head back. He kissed her deeply, keeping his hold on the belt so that she felt the pressure and knew who was in control.

  Damn if her pussy didn’t pulsate with desire. She was hopeless in the hands of these two.

  Rytsar forcibly bound her knees together with the belt, announcing, “There will be no more release for you.”

  The men unzipped their pants and presented her with their rigid cocks.

  “You will pleasure us at the same time.”

  Brie beamed inside, realizing they’d been teasing her, but she continued to act the part of a repentant submissive. She gazed up at them with a remorseful expression, eager to pay for her disobedience.

  Grasping both their shafts, she began stroking and was rewarded by their mutual grunts. Her pussy ached in response. She leaned over and licked the precome from the head of Sir’s cock and began sucking while still keeping the rhythm of her hand’s stroke on Rytsar.

  The luxury of two cocks was deliciously extravagant, and Brie moaned as she moved to Rytsar’s shaft, not wanting either man to feel neglected. She looked up as she took him into her mouth.

  Rytsar did not move or make a sound as he watched her. It was unnerving, the way he gazed at her so intensely. She knew she’d failed to please him orally the first time they’d scened together, and she was determined to show him how far she’d come since that day.

  She relaxed her throat and took his shaft deeper. Still there was no reaction from the man, just an intense stare that challenged her. What more did he want?

  Her attention to Rytsar did not go unnoticed by her Master, who pulled on the belt around her neck. She disengaged from the Russian and returned to Sir. He pulled back her head as he applied pressure to the belt.

  “The challenge is to please us both at the same time,” he reminded her. “Not an easy task.”

  She nodded, amping up her hand motion on Rytsar’s cock as she flicked her tongue under the ridge of Sir’s shaft.

  “Deeper,” he commanded.

  Brie opened her lips wide and took his entirety.

  “Good girl…” he growled.

  Brie moaned on his shaft, loving his praise. She added a little twist to her wrist action with Rytsar so he would know she hadn’t forgotten him, and was rewarded with a release of precome. It lubed his shaft, allowing for more energetic handling.

  Sir pulled on her belt, forcing her to disengage.

  Brie stroked his shaft, u
sing the twisting motion as she returned to the Russian. She started down at his balls, licking, nipping and sucking her way up the length of his shaft. Although his expression remained stoic, she noticed a slight upturn at the corner of his mouth. It was all she needed…

  Brie took him into her mouth and began slowly taking him deeper, making him anticipate the total constriction of her tight throat around his shaft. She played him as she continued to stroke Sir’s shaft vigorously. Opposite ends of the spectrum—one slow and deliberate, the other fast and furious.

  When her lips encircled the base of his shaft, Rytsar actually let out a low grunt as he looked down at her.

  Triumph!

  She slowly pulled away from him and returned to Sir. It pleased her greatly to tease Rytsar as she took her Master deep, giving him what Rytsar had only tasted for a moment.

  Brie took the fullness of Sir’s shaft to the base and then did her signature shallow pumping to tighten her throat around him. “That’s it, babygirl.”

  She changed up her stroking of Rytsar to match the movements of her mouth on Sir’s cock. Slow, deep, gentle…

  “Hvatit,” Rytsar snarled under his breath.

  Without warning, he pulled on the belt, prying her from Sir’s cock. He then forcefully guided her lips onto him and held her head with both hands as he pumped her mouth.

  So much for teasing the sadist.

  Brie relaxed her throat and looked up at him, taking his hard thrusts with the same grace she’d seen Mary achieve. I am your vessel of pleasure…

  But she had not forgotten her Master, and stroked his shaft with the same intensity that Rytsar was pumping her mouth. She knew that as Sir watched, the sensations of her hand would mimic the feeling of being deep-throated.

  “Fuucckkk…” Sir groaned.

  Rytsar pulled away from her and commanded, “Stroke me until I come.”

  She stroked both men with long, tightfisted caresses. She opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out in anticipation as she stroked more rapidly and was rewarded with their tangy release. She licked the heads of their cocks, taking as much of their seed as she could. Her chin and breasts were covered in their white reward by the end, despite her best efforts, and the refreshing smell of their come filled her nostrils. Brie moaned in satisfaction, grateful for the honor.