The Isle 2.0
As she was packing to head back home, Rytsar walked into the room and nodded to Sir. The sexual tension in the room suddenly increased.
Brie took one look at Sir and felt weak in the knees, knowing she was finally going to find out what all their planning had been about.
“Téa, we are not headed back to the States.”
“Where are we going, Master?”
“Someplace Hope will not be joining us. However, your parents have kindly agreed to take her with them. We will be returning to get her in a couple of days.”
“Why the separation, Sir?”
Rytsar smirked. “I am finally going to visit the Isle with you, radost moya.”
Warm jolts of electricity coursed through her body thinking about being on their private island alone with Sir and Rytsar for days…
Luckily, her parents were so thrilled to have Hope all to themselves for a couple of days, that it made it easier for Brie when the time came to say goodbye.
As they were preparing to leave, her mother told Brie excitedly, “Thane has taken care of everything, sweetheart. Supplies have even been sent to the house,” she leaned in and whispered, “including your reserves of milk.”
Brie gave Sir a sideways glance. “So that’s why I’ve been storing extra in the freezer. And all this time, I thought it was a precaution in case I got the flu.”
Sir chuckled. “It never hurts to be prepared.”
“Don’t worry about a thing, little girl,” her father reassured her as he grabbed Hope’s bags from Sir. “We’ll take good care of our granddaughter.”
“So you’re not worried about the long plane ride back with her?” Brie asked him.
Her dad looked down at his granddaughter and grinned. “Nope, because I’ll do whatever it takes to make her happy.”
Brie wrapped an arm around him. “Thank you, Daddy.”
He gave her a kiss on the cheek. “You’ve opened up a new world to us making us grandparents. Know that this father is extremely grateful.”
Brie gave Hope one more cuddle and kiss before handing her over to her mother. But Rytsar intervened before she could make the transfer.
“Could I hold her once more?”
Brie smiled. “Of course, Rytsar.” She handed Hope to him and watched as he cradled the baby against his chest.
Rytsar said nothing as he held her with his eyes closed for several minutes.
Her parents looked at Brie strangely, wondering what was up.
Brie explained, “He takes his dyadya responsibilities very seriously.”
They both nodded, but her father gave Rytsar an amused look as he set Hope’s bags in the back of the trunk.
Finally, Rytsar released his hold and lifted Hope in the air, smiling up at her as she giggled. “Your dyadya loves you, moye solntse, forever and a day.”
He gave her a kiss on the cheek and gently handed her over to Brie’s mother.
“I sure wish I had an uncle like you,” her mother joked as she went to buckle Hope into the car seat.
Brie put her arm around Rytsar. “Missing her already?”
“Da.”
Sir came up behind them and they watched as her parents left with Hope. Brie waved goodbye with a light heart. Between Sir’s family and her own, Hope was surrounded by an abundance of love.
Brie’s scene started before they even left the airfield for the Isle.
Once they were on board Rytsar’s jet, Sir commanded her to strip. Brie smiled to herself as she undressed in front of him. He buckled her into the seat and kissed her on the lips before placing a blindfold over her eyes.
Her body was already tingling with excitement as the plane took off. Once in the air, Sir told her to unbuckle and walk toward his voice. She made her way over to him, her arms outstretched.
Strong arms encased her. Rytsar asked in a gruff voice, “What do we have here?”
He lifted her off her feet amid happy squeals and carried her to the front of the cabin. He set her down and bound her wrists behind her back in cuffs. He then secured her to the wall with a hook mounted there, moving down to bind her ankles next.
He stepped back when he was done, and asked Sir, “What do you think?”
“Nice, but I think we could use some more ornamentation.” Sir moved over to her, his touch causing goosebumps on her skin as he played with her nipples. “Something delicate and decorative.” She felt the pressure of a tweezer clamp on her nipple, but he kept the tension light as he tightened it, not wanting to evoke her milk rushing in. He then secured the other clamp, and she felt the delicate chain, weighted down by a jewel, swinging between her breasts.
Sir had a flare for making her feel beautiful during play.
Brie heard them go back to their seats and felt their heated gaze on her.
“Yes, she looks good there,” Sir commented.
“Agreed,” Rytsar stated huskily.
Brie heard the stewardess walk up and ask the men what they wanted to drink.
It reminded her of the time she’d acted as a platter at an important party during her training, and that feeling grew as she listened to Sir and Rytsar talking about business.
It actually turned her on, this feeling of objectification—knowing they were aware of her, but choosing not to interact.
Soon, however, Rytsar returned to her, placing a gag in her mouth and securing it behind her head. When he sat back down, he told Sir casually, “I like to see her bound and gagged.”
“I agree. It is an arousing sight.”
Brie basked in their pseudo attention, knowing she was the center of it even though they were treating her as if she were a mere decorative piece.
They upped the ante when Sir came to her and placed silencing headphones over her ears. Now, she was devoid of her main senses and completely dependent on their contact.
They did not disappoint her need. Throughout the trip, each man came to her, playing with her chain, fingering her pussy, or biting her on the neck. It made her dripping wet and desirous for more of their attention.
Near the end of the flight, Brie found herself handled roughly as Rytsar took off the headphones and threw them aside. He then quickly unbound her wrists and ankles, growling, “I have watched your breasts swell this entire time. Now I must partake.” Lifting her up, he carried her to the back of the jet and dropped her onto his bed.
Sir and Rytsar tied her wrists to the bed, then lay on either side of her. Sir removed her blindfold while Rytsar relieved her of the gag.
Brie was struck by how ravenous both men looked. It was obvious they had taken pleasure in torturing themselves by teasing her during the flight.
Sir removed the delicate clamps and began rolling her nipples between his fingers. Not having nursed in so long, her body primed itself to feed.
Brie held her breath as both men descended on her breasts at the same time and began sucking her nipples. She cried out as the ache of her milk rushing in was coupled by the sensuous feel of their lips.
It was unlike anything she had experienced before.
Sir’s hand sought her pussy, creating a glorious heat as he began rubbing against her clit. It seemed so wrong but felt so right as her pussy began pulsating with need.
Brie closed her eyes and prayed there would be no punishment when her body rocked with an intense orgasm that wouldn’t stop as they continued to suckle her breasts.
When the last pulse finally ended and her milk was spent, she opened her eyes. Rytsar pulled back, wiping a drop of her milk from his lips.
“Delicious,” he growled lustfully.
Brie blushed, embarrassed that she had enjoyed them sucking her full breasts so much.
She turned to Sir, who looked at her hungrily. “I want you…”
Brie spread her legs wider in invitation, longing for him to fill her up with his cock. Sir quickly undressed and climbed on top of her, his shaft easily finding its way into her wet pussy. Her body craved his animal-like lust as he began thrusting like a beast.
There was no holding back a second orgasm when she felt the burst of heat, his seed coating her inner walls. Brie came with Sir as he pushed in deep with each thrust of his release, making her moan in pure pleasure.
Afterward, as she lay there sweaty and spent, Sir asked, “Coming twice without permission?”
She turned her head to look at him. “I’m sorry, but it felt so good…”
Wiping the sweat from his brow, he told her, “I agree, but now I must think on an appropriate punishment.” He chuckled, adding, “I’ll let you ponder on that.”
“Mercy,” she begged, although she had to admit she was already anticipating his punishment.
Rytsar took over then.
He undid her bindings before he thoroughly cleaned her, making her fresh before he undressed himself. The burly Russian still carried the scars from his torture, as well as his surgery, but they were fading. His muscular physique had returned, but he was thinner than before, as if his body was permanently altered by the experience.
Rytsar stood before Brie, his cock hard and his eyes sparkling with mischievous mirth. What was he planning?
She held her breath as he pressed the length of his body against hers, his cock between her legs. Whispering in her ear, he murmured, “You are beautiful, radost moya.”
His intense blue eyes were mesmerizing as Rytsar slowly rubbed his hard cock on her pussy, coating it with her juices. She held her breath as he pushed the head of his shaft into her. Rytsar began kissing her deeply, claiming her lips as he claimed her body with his manhood.
Sir lay back against the headboard, watching them—a satisfied look on his face.
Brie had expected Rytsar to play hard and rough with her, but he was gentle. Taking her deep, demanding her body conform to him, but stroking her slowly as he nibbled and kissed her skin.
This unexpected lovemaking left her curious. She smiled, running her fingers over his bald head. “You are sweet for a sadist.”
He chuckled, biting down on her shoulder as he gave her a couple of spirited thrusts. Brie loved his response and purred with delight.
Rytsar went back to his leisurely pace, stroking her G-spot, but not quite taking her to the edge. Instead, he made her climax build upon itself over and over again. His knowledge of her body, and his natural desire to make her suffer, meant that he soon had her body tormented with need.
“Please…” she begged.
“Nyet,” he murmured, biting her again.
He knew what his teeth did to her, and she cried out in painfully delicious frustration.
“This feeling? That is what you do to me, radost moya. You simply being near me makes my cock ache like this for you.”
She shook her head, moaning with passion, both loving and hating having to ride this intense edge.
“Still yourself,” he commanded her.
Brie immediately stopped moving and looked up into his eyes.
“Feel my need for you,” he murmured huskily.
Brie readied herself, longing to feel the strength of his orgasm.
“But do not come yourself,” he added with an evil twinkle in his eye.
He covered her lips with his, plunging his cock into her, rubbing against her G-spot with calculated expertise.
Brie stared into his blue eyes as he pumped his seed into her, her body trembling in excitement and in need for her own release. When he was done, he collapsed on top of her, breathing heavily.
All her nerve endings were twitching, needing to climax.
He propped himself up and stared at her, smiling. “Radost moya…”
“Yes?” she gasped.
“This Russian loves you.”
She whimpered, her pussy still pulsing with need, having nearly come.
He leaned over and whispered the word she’d been desperate to hear. “Da…”
Her orgasm crescendoed, finally reaching the top of the precipice. His lips smashed against hers as every muscle in her body seemed to join in her climax. She was like a woman possessed, shaking uncontrollably as she came.
Brie lay with her head on Sir’s lap, listening to the pleasant drone of puddle jumper as they headed to the island. She was still pleasantly weak from the hours of play on the jet.
“Babygirl.”
She turned to look up at him and said with adoration, “My Master…”
“Did you enjoy your erotic trip?”
“Very much.”
Sir played with her hair as he explained, “Durov and I decided to take full advantage of the flight with so little time at the Isle.”
“Couldn’t we stay longer?”
“I’m afraid not.”
She heard the pitch of the engine change, and Rytsar announced lustfully, “We’re here.”
After the plane landed in the water, the three undressed, leaving their clothes on board. Rytsar strapped a waterproof bag onto his back while Sir helped Brie into the water. Both men assisted her in getting to the shore, knowing she was still weak from their hours of play.
Once they were safely on the white beach, Sir picked Brie up and slung her over his shoulder as he started walking down the path through the vegetation.
Brie giggled. “I’m sure I can walk, I’ll just be a little slower than normal.”
“No time to waste,” Rytsar answered her, grinning at Brie hungrily.
The miniature house with the front made entirely of glass was a welcomed sight as they walked into the clearing. There were so many good memories contained in that place during the honeymoon, and Brie sighed contentedly as Sir carried her over the threshold, laying her down on the large bed.
Rytsar looked around the tiny home, opening the cupboards and drawers, exploring every inch of the place.
“I had the place stocked in advance of our stay,” Sir informed him.
“This place is everything I envisioned, brother,” Rytsar stated in satisfaction.
Rytsar pointed to the stunning tub of frosted blue glass, nestled in the unique metal frame resembling bare tree branches with a skyline of pine trees in the background. “What do you think of the tub?”
“It is beautiful, Rytsar.”
He stared proudly at the oversized tub. “A good heirloom for your family.”
Brie giggled. “What, the Isle or the tub?”
He smirked at her. “Both.”
When he was done filling it with water, he held out his hand to her. “Come, my naked radost moya.” She stepped into the delightfully warm water and waited as both men joined her, one on either end. It was a tight squeeze, which made it that much more enjoyable for Brie as she lathered up Rytsar first.
Running her hands over his muscular chest, with the dragon tattoo peeking over his shoulder, was sensual and intimate. “You look good all covered in soap.”
“I’d look even better covered in you.”
She giggled as she rinsed him off, giving him a bunch of wet kisses when she was done.
Brie then turned herself around to lavish attention on Sir, but the movement created a ripple of water that cascaded over the edge of the tub and onto the floor.
“I might have to spank you for that,” Sir teased.
“Please do, Master.”
Brie lathered Sir’s body slowly, enjoying the rough texture of his body hair. As she ran her hands over the defined muscles of his pecs, she smiled to herself. She took great pleasure rinsing off the lather to expose his body to her again.
“I think it’s time to turn the tables,” Sir told Rytsar.
“Agreed, comrade.”
Brie purred in pure pleasure as she felt the hands of both men rubbing her entire body. They tickled her toes with their thorough cleaning and made her pussy wet with their extra attention on her breasts.
Brie was surprised when Rytsar left the tub. She watched as he wrapped a towel around his waist and went to the cupboards to get the pitcher. He walked back and handed it to Sir.
Sir told her to relax against him. He slowly poured the warm water over her body, rinsing the soap from her skin. She shivered in pure pleasure and asked him to do it several more times.
When the water began to get cold, Rytsar held out a towel to Brie, wrapping her in its fluffy goodness. As for Sir, Rytsar did not hand him the towel, but whipped it instead, smacking his thigh hard with the end of it.
Sir let out a surprised yowl, snagging the towel from Rytsar, then chuckled ominously as he looked down and watched a red welt appear on his skin. “You are going to pay for that, old friend.”
Rytsar smirked. “There is nothing you could do that would faze me.”
“We’ll see about that.”
As Sir rubbed the welt, Brie noticed the smile playing on his lips as he toweled off and wondered what he was planning.
Once he was thoroughly dried off, Rytsar brought out a custom-made sex swing. With Sir’s help, he attached it to the anchor in the ceiling. Brie stared at it with interest, remembering her first time in one with Baron.
“Before we begin our next round, I say we have a drink and make a toast,” Sir suggested.
Rytsar turned to him, grinning. “Vodka is always an excellent idea, comrade.”
“I thought you’d agree.”
Sir made the drinks while Rytsar beckoned Brie to his lap. She sat and curled up against him, feeling completely relaxed and pliable—exactly how they wanted her.
As Rytsar held her close he began humming his mother’s lullaby. Its haunting melody was now familiar to her since he often serenaded Hope with his mother’s song.
“Hum with me,” he commanded. Brie did her best to keep the same rhythm and tone as they hummed it together. “Good,” he complimented. “Keep humming.”
Rytsar surprised her when he sang the words in his native language, his voice low and melodic. Their harmonious exchange was enchanting and magical, especially since Brie lacked the actual talent to sing herself. When they were done, he chuckled warmly, kissing her on the head.
“Very nice,” Sir praised, handing a glass to Rytsar.
Sir pulled Brie from Rytsar’s lap and wrapped his arm around her, handing her a drink as well.
The shot glasses were made of the same blue glass as the tub. “They’re such a pretty color,” Brie commented, staring at it with appreciation.
Sir told her, “Another heirloom from our friend.”
“What shall we toast to, brother?”
“Why not brotherly love?” Sir answered Rytsar with a slight smile.
Brie raised her glass. “To brotherly love, then.”
“Amen,” Rytsar replied with a chuckle as he tossed back his drink. He immediately spewed liquid all over himself and started gagging as he grabbed his throat.
“What’s wrong?” Brie cried.
Sir started laughing when Rytsar threw him a nasty glare.
Brie ran to get a towel and handed it to Rytsar. “What happened?”
He looked at her with an expression of utter disgust. “Coconut water.”
Sir held up his glass. “Here’s to getting even, old friend.”
There was silence for a moment before Rytsar pointed his finger at Sir accusingly and started laughing. Brie joined in, looking at both men in amusement.
“I should never have doubted your craftiness, brother,” Rytsar confessed when he could finally speak again. “But if you ever replace my vodka with coconut water again, I will kill you.”
Sir started laughing again. “The look on your face…”
Rytsar shook his head as he made his way to the sink. After rinsing out his mouth and spitting several times, he asked Brie, “How can you drink this awful stuff, radost moya?”
“It’s yummy,” she told him, taking another sip of hers.
“Coconut water is a travesty of nature and should be banned,” he growled, spitting into the sink again.
Sir downed his drink and said with a smirk, “I do prefer a fine vodka to coconut water, myself.”
“Is that what you are drinking?” Rytsar demanded.
“Of course.”
“Then give me the bottle, you mudak.”
Sir opened the freezer and took out a bottle of Zyr.
Rytsar snatched it from him, glugging it down as if it were milk. He wiped his mouth after several swigs and sighed in satisfaction.
He then looked at Brie lustfully. “Are you ready to get frisky, radost moya?”
Her answer was to kneel down on the floor in an open position.
As if the humorous exchange had never happened, both men instantly fell into their Dominant roles.
Brie’s body responded to their dual dominance, her pussy contracting in pleasure when Sir placed his hand on her head. “Stand and serve your Master.”
She stood up and squeaked when he lifted her off her feet. Rytsar helped hold the swing still as Sir placed her into it, positioning her feet in the hanging stirrups. The feeling of helplessness turned her on as she swung slowly in midair, her pussy splayed out for them.
Rytsar removed his towel, standing before her with his rigid cock ready to begin. “Are you prepared to please me, radost moya?”
“It would be my pleasure,” she answered, envisioning him pounding her deeply.
Her heart started beating faster when Sir adjusted the sex swing, pulling her into an upright position, her legs spread out, while she hovered a few inches above the floor. He moved her hair forward to bare her back.
Rytsar’s low laughter filled the room as he took his cat o’ nines from out of his bag. “Yes, you have a date with my nines.”
Brie’s eyes grew wider as he swung his instrument, cutting the air with its cruel, knotted tails.
“As you can see, the surgery was a success. I feel no pain,” he told her with a wicked grin. “But you will…”
Sir read her growing fear and grabbed her chin, kissing her deeply. “Enjoy this session with him. Accept the love with which it is delivered.” His sensual kiss and the truth behind his words helped her embrace this challenge with the right frame of mind. Not being a masochist, it was easy for Brie to fear the pain instead of welcoming the experience Rytsar was presenting to her.
She nodded, taking his advice. Closing her eyes, Brie heard the nines cut savagely through the air, but concentrated on the sound of Rytsar’s heavy breathing.
Sir whispered huskily, “Watching you submit excites me, babygirl.”
Her pussy ached, the power exchange between the three of them as exciting for her as it was for them. She fed off the sexual energy in the room as she waited for the first stroke of the nines.
“Feel my passion for you,” Rytsar growled as he took the first swing. Her back exploded with the fiery sensation those wicked knots could create, and she cried out in pain, surprised once again by how excruciating his whip was.
“Color, radost moya?” Rytsar asked lustfully.
It took her a moment to speak. Her body was already tingling as the endorphins rushed through her bloodstream. Swallowing down her fear, she answered him.
“Green.”
The next stroke blurred out all thought, and she screamed. He had to time his strokes with the movement of the swing as he gave her another. He spoke to her in Russian, the passion in his voice, along with the seductive sound of his native language, reminding her of their first meeting.
My warrior.
She took the pain Rytsar delivered, harnessing each stroke to carry her further into subspace. She went beyond her endurance, embracing his pleasure over hers—connecting with his sadistic need and giving fully in to it.
When the lashes stopped, she was trembling and whimpering softly. Sir slowly repositioned the swing so she hung in a horizontal position again.
Both men descended on her then, hungry to connect physically with her. Rytsar took position near her mouth while Sir stilled the swing and pressed his cock against her pussy. She was flying high on the euphoria of having transformed his pain into pleasure, and was desperate for the connection they sought.
Brie reached a new level…the transcendence of their dominance—her back burning with Rytsar’s love as she took his cock deep in her throat and Sir pounded her to a glorious release.
Pure submissive bliss.
It was with great sadness that Brie said goodbye to their Isle the next day.
“Please promise me that when we return, it’ll be for longer,” she begged Sir, not wanting to leave this submissive paradise yet.
Rytsar seemed reluctant to leave, as well, and smiled at her. “It’s a shame it must come to an end, radost moya.”
“Agreed. Next time we go for a week, brother,” Sir said.
“Da.” Rytsar grabbed him in a hug, slapping Sir hard on the back.
Brie felt as if the two men had somehow been changed by their encounter on the Isle. They seemed closer and more in tune with each other.
After an exhilarating swim back to the plane, Rytsar removed the waterproof bag from his back and insisted on helping Brie dry off. She dressed back into her clothes that were waiting and sat down between the two men.
Brie was a contented sub with her head resting on Rytsar’s shoulder and her hand on Sir’s thigh as they flew back to the main island. She felt completely loved and incredibly spoiled.
Although Brie was anxious to get back to Hope, she was excited that they had a long plane ride ahead because it gave the three of them a little more time together. She wasn’t quite ready for it to end.
Once the plane had landed and they were safely on the tarmac, Rytsar surprised Brie by handing his bag with his tools over to Sir. “Hold on to this for me, brother.”
“Will do.”
Brie looked at Rytsar in surprise, then laughed out loud knowing he would never give his nines to another—not even Sir. “Okay, what are you up to now?”
He looked at her tenderly. “It’s time.”
“Time for what?”
He kissed her on the forehead and turned to Sir. “Keep her safe.”
“Wait…you’re not heading back with us?” Brie asked, suddenly alarmed.
“No, radost moya. I must go.”
Brie looked at Sir, noting the serious expression on his face. She felt a cold, prickling sensation course through her body. “What is this?”
“He’s going after the slaver, Brie. We got the information we needed before leaving for Italy.”
She looked at Rytsar again, shaking her head. “You can’t!”
“I must.”
The thought of losing him was too much for her heart to bear and she begged, “Don’t go, please…”
“Titov is temporarily coming out of retirement to assist me. It is what must be done to end this.”
“But I don’t want you to go…” Brie cried.
Rytsar cradled her face in his strong hands. “But I must.” His gaze was resolute, unmoving.
Tears rolled down her cheeks, realizing that his actions during their trip to Italy and the Isle had been his quiet way of saying goodbye. She shook her head, looking at him in disbelief.
Rytsar understood he was causing her pain and pounded his chest fiercely, explaining, “I need this, radost moya. It is not just for you and the babe. I do this also in memory of my Tatianna. I could not protect her, but I can protect you. I have to be the one—to avenge you and the babe, and finish what I could not years ago. The slaver must die, and I cannot go on knowing he still breathes.”
Rytsar turned to Sir, putting his hand firmly on his shoulder. “I see it so clearly. This is how it ends. Everything that has happened to me has led to this moment.”
“I can still join you, brother.”
“Nyet. Your job is to protect your woman. I made a promise to God that I would protect moye solntse, and that is what I will do.”
He smiled at Brie, vowing, “You will not see me again until the man is dead.”
Brie started to cry.
Rytsar was leaving her—and there was nothing she could do about it.
He put a finger to her lips. “I know you will not send me off with tears.”
Stilling the panic and fear bubbling up to the surface, Brie quieted her thoughts and dried her tears for him.
“Good, radost moya.” Rytsar gripped her head in both hands, pressing his forehead against hers as he stared into her eyes. “Do you trust me?”
She wanted to say “No”—and she would have—if it would have stopped him from going. “Yes, Rytsar, I trust you.”
“Then there is no need for tears. I will return.”
“Yes.”
“Now give me a kiss to send me off properly.”
Rytsar grabbed her, kissing Brie passionately, his lips expressing his deep love for her. His final goodbye.
Brie wanted to weep when he broke the embrace, but she held the tears back and told him, “My heart beats with you, Rytsar.”
He put his hand on his chest and smiled at her. “I feel it always.”
Rytsar then turned to Sir. “Brother, do not second-guess this path you and I are on.”
Sir’s eyes were shrouded in pain and uncertainty.
“Do not!” Rytsar insisted. “Victory is certain.”
Brie could tell Sir was still struggling with the decision, but he clasped his friend’s shoulder and said confidently, “We will drink to your success on your return.”
“Da, comrade,” he answered with a grin. “And I will drink you under the table.”
Rytsar turned and walked away then, shouting, “Poka my ne vstretimsya snova!”
Brie didn’t let the tears fall until he was out of sight. But, once they began, she was inconsolable.