Brie Learns the Art of Submission: Submissive Training Center (53 page)

When Brie finished, she looked up and asked,
“Mr. Gallant, can I ask you a personal question?”

He looked up from his book and replied, “You
can ask, but I don’t guarantee I will answer.”

“Are you a Dominant?”

“Yes.”

I knew it!
“May I ask another
question?”

“Same rule applies.”

“Understood.” Brie couldn’t help blushing
when she spoke. “Why don’t you have training sessions with the
students?”

Mr. Gallant put his fingertips together in a
thoughtful pose, considering his reply before answering her. “I
don’t normally share my personal life, Miss Bennett. However, I
will as long as you keep it between us.” When she nodded, he
continued, “I have a monogamous relationship with my submissive,
who also happens to be my wife.”

His answer melted Brie’s heart. “Thank you,
Mr. Gallant.”

“I take it you are finished with the
packet.”

She held it up and smiled. “I am. It was
quite eye-opening, to say the least. I’ve changed a lot.”

He returned her smile. “I quite agree, Miss
Bennett. Please hand it to me and start on your journal.” He looked
at the clock and added, “You only have twenty minutes. Use the time
wisely.”

Brie grinned at his little reminder. Too
many times, she had gotten too caught up in the backstory to fully
describe her fantasy. That was
not
going to happen
tonight.

She opened the luxurious book. Mr. Gallant
had had them record many delightful fantasies onto those beautiful
gold-lined pages over the past six weeks. Fantasies she would be
able to share with her Master… The burglar and the helpless
housewife. The pirate and the virgin. The big, bad wolf and Little
Red Riding Hood. The sheik and the slave girl. And now she was
about to add another—one with a little more bite. She picked up her
special journaling pen and began to pour out her thoughts. She kept
the backstory painfully short, not wanting to chance running out of
time.

Backstory—16
^th
century King, innocent daughter of a destitute royal.

****

I am frightened. I know I have been sent to
the King as a peace offering. This is my father’s desperate attempt
to stave off the creditors. If the King accepts me, my family will
continue to live at the manor. If not, we will be left homeless
with no title and no means of support.

I pinch my cheeks one more time, hoping he
will find the blush on my cream complexion appealing. I am escorted
before the King, who is busy devouring a lavish meal. My stomach
growls and a real blush creeps over my face.

My stately King looks up from his plate. “Is
this the one?”

“
She is, Sire.”

“
Looks a little too young and untried.
Not what I want tonight. Take her away.”

I blurt out, “I may be untried, my Lord, but
I am willing.”

He gives me a second glance. “Willing? What
does that really mean coming from a little girl? You know not what
you propose.” He motions me away, but I am determined.

“
I am yours, my Lord, to use as you
please.” I bow before him in complete supplication.

“
I will not be gentle or kind,” he
warns.

“
Let me please you, my King.”

He snorts in amusement. “So be it.” He
points to the old servant holding the flask of wine beside him.
“Pleasure him with your mouth while I watch.”

My heart beats fiercely as I approach the
servant. I have never given oral pleasures before and have no idea
how to go about it. My King takes the wine flask from the stunned
man and laughs as he sets it down on the table. “Been a long time,
has it, Thomas?”

“
Yes, Sire.”

“
Good. Then this shouldn’t take long.” My
King looks at me and says drolly, “Go on, girl. Please your
King.”

I fumble at untying the man’s trousers and I
hear my King chuckle unkindly. I pull down his pants, along with
his undergarments, and am shocked at the largeness of his staff.
I’ve never seen one before and find it intimidating.

“
Go on, child,” my King commands, pushing
me down on my knees before the old servant.

I open my mouth hesitantly and stick out my
tongue, licking the end of his member. It twitches and I back away.
I can hear the dissatisfied grunt of my King and quickly recover
from my shock. I lick it again and a bitter taste fills my mouth. I
do not retreat. Instead, I lick it more eagerly.

“
Take him in your mouth.”

With my heart pounding, I open my lips and
the old man’s shaft fills my mouth. My cry is muffled when he
pushes himself in deeper.

“
That’s it. Suck his staff with that
virginal mouth until he comes.”

The old man grabs my head and starts
thrusting his member harder and harder. I know my King is watching
so I moan, holding the thick member with one hand. Suddenly, the
rigid member begins pulsing in my mouth. The old man groans loudly
as copious amounts of bitter fluid burst forth from his
manhood.

“
Swallow it all,” my King
commands.

I swallow without question, distressed when
some of the liquid escapes my lips. The servant pulls his shaft
from my mouth with a satisfied sigh. I wipe the extra from my
mouth, but my King growls, “I said swallow it all.”

I lick my hands, making sure to clean off
all of the bitter liquid.

My King sits back in his chair and smiles
wickedly at me. “That was entertaining, but I am not convinced you
are worthy.”

While Thomas pulls up his trousers, I bow to
my King. “How may I prove myself, Lord?”

“
I assume you are a virgin.”

“
Yes, my King.” I am completely prepared
to sacrifice my virginity to my sovereign.

But he surprises me when he says, “You shall
give your maidenhood to my priest. That would entertain me on so
many levels.”

I gasp at his audaciousness, but dutifully
answer, “It would be my pleasure, my Lord.”

He snaps his fingers. “Get young Father
Christopher. Tell him… Tell him I have a special assignment only my
priest can perform.”

I watch with frightened curiosity as the
soldiers leave to retrieve the priest…

“Miss Bennett.”

Brie looked up from her journal and
pouted.

“Don’t tell me—you’re just getting to the
good part.”

She sighed. “Well, yes…” Unfortunately, her
imagination was too prolific.

“As in the past, I am sure the Dom will be
able to work with what you’ve written.”

Her curiosity was killing her, so she asked,
“Mr. Gallant, since we aren’t having another auction, who will be
playing out our fantasies?”

He stood up and took the journal from her.
“It is a standing tradition that your last entry is used as a
training exercise.”

Brie squelched a smile, wondering if she
would be seeing Greg again, the first Dom she had ever been
partnered with. He would make an excellent Thomas. But who would
play the part of the priest? The possibilities were fun to
entertain.

“You will proceed to room five, where Master
Coen is waiting for you.”

She got up to leave and was almost out of
the door when she spontaneously turned around. “Mr. Gallant?”

“Yes, Miss Bennett.”

“You are an extraordinary teacher. Thank you
for everything.” She scooted out of the room, afraid she might cry
if she stayed. She hated to think of not sitting in his class next
week.

As she walked down the hall, she saw Lea
entering room nine. She gave her friend an enthusiastic wave and
smiled when Lea waved back before disappearing into the room.
Brie’s six-inch heels clicked pleasantly down the hallway. It was
good to be a submissive.

Brie was curious what Master Coen had in
store for her when she opened the door and noticed a fire going in
a small brazier next to a thin wooden table in the middle of the
room.

She stopped at the door and untied her
corset, then laid it on the floor before kneeling in front of
Master Coen, her arms behind her back to display her breasts in the
pose assigned to her as part of her ritual. She kept her head bowed
until he came to her and placed his hand on her head. “You may
serve me. Stand.”

Brie gracefully got to her feet and faced
him, intrigued by the fire. She had a hard time not staring at
it.

“This is the last week of training. We have
a rite for all graduating submissives. It is not a requirement, but
it speaks volumes to your dedication.”

That fire suddenly looked far more sinister.
“I understand, Master Coen.”

He picked up an iron rod from the fire. “Do
you know what this is?”

She shook her head, although she was certain
what it was.

“This is a branding iron, Miss Bennett. Our
school emblem will be branded on your inner right thigh. Think of
it as our seal of approval.”

Brie’s eyes widened in terror. The idea of
having her flesh burned in the most sensitive of places was
horrifying.

“Rest assured, we take this seriously and
will use the safest measures. Your health is not in danger;
however, I will not perform the branding without your approval as
it is a permanent mark.”

Brie looked at the bright red end of the
branding iron. The school crest looked to be about a square inch
and a half. Not huge, but it would be noticeable if she wore a
bikini. She swallowed hard. Was she willing to be marked like this?
She closed her eyes to focus and had a long conversation with
herself.

Brie finally came to the conclusion that she
was proud to be a graduate of the Submissive Training Center. There
were so few in the world that it made her exceptional and worthy of
a tattoo—even if it was in the form of a branding. “I’ll do
it.”

She noticed a gleam in Master Coen’s eye at
her choice. “Very well. Remove all your clothing and lie on the
table while I ready things.”

She watched him thrust the iron back into
the coals. She shuddered, but started to undress. It seemed
surreal, but he was busy taking out rubbing alcohol and rubber
gloves. Then he rolled up his sleeves in preparation.

This is really happening…

When she was naked, she went to the table
and put her hands on it as support. She hesitated before getting
onto the hard, unforgiving piece of furniture.
You can do this,
Brie.

Master Coen said nothing as he watched. He
was extremely patient, apparently understanding how difficult this
was for her. She finally pushed herself onto the table and lay
down. “Put the soles of your feet together,” he ordered.

She did, and it naturally spread her thighs
out, giving him easy access. He put on the rubber gloves and soaked
a cotton ball with rubbing alcohol. He spread it liberally over her
right inner thigh. The coolness of the liquid made her nipples
tighten into hard nubs—of course, her fear also helped. Brie looked
up at the ceiling and commanded herself to breathe slowly.
Thank
goodness for Tono’s training.

“We need to let the alcohol dry fully and
allow the iron to heat up,” he commented.

She bit her lip and sighed.

“You are in good company, Miss Bennett. In
the world there are less than five hundred submissives who wear
this mark.”

Brie nodded. If almost five hundred women
had survived this, she would too. “Master Coen, could you explain
the crest? I want to know what I am being branded with.”

“Certainly. The two letter symbols are Alpha
and Omega. The Alpha stands over the Omega. The collar represents
submission and the heart-shaped lock is a reminder it is given in
love. The words are Respect, Obey, Submit.”

“I like that,” she said.

“Good, as it will be burned into your
skin.”

Master Coen was
not
helping. Brie
remained silent, psyching herself up for the fearsome ordeal. But
she was distracted as Master Coen began binding her feet, and then
her thighs, moving up to her wrists last. “It is imperative that I
prevent any movement.”

He picked up a blindfold. “This will make it
easier. In the past it was done without, but submissives find it
helpful.”

Brie willingly lifted her head and let him
cover her eyes. Suddenly it felt more real. She was bound and
blind, waiting for the brand to burn into her skin. Part of her
wanted to scream out the safe word, but she knew she would not. She
was in it to the end—fear would not win over her determination.

“I am marking your skin so that I get it in
the right spot.” Her loins contracted in horror as a marker glided
over her skin in a circular pattern. She bit on her lip harder,
concentrating on the pain rather than what was about to occur.

“I must ask a final time. Do you want to be
branded?”

‘
Want’ is not the right word. ‘Willing
but terrified’ is more like it.
She nodded.

“No, I must hear words.”

Brie’s voice trembled. “I want the
branding.”

“It shall be done.”

She heard him messing with items on the
table and then the sound of the iron rod as he hit it against the
edge of the metal brazier, presumably to knock the ashes off. “When
I am about to apply the brand, I will tell you to breathe out. Take
a deep breath now and hold it.”

Brie inhaled deeply and held it in. Her
rapidly beating heart protested, wanting her to let it out. She
felt the heat of the brand next to her skin. Dangerously close and
blistering hot.

“Breathe out.”

She let out the breath just as the intense
heat seared her. She heard the sound of her sizzling skin and
screamed, almost blacking out. Master Coen removed the brand and
put it back in the fire. “How do you feel, Miss Bennett?”

She didn’t hold back the tears. “It
hurts!”