Hard Choice Road Ch. 03

Hard Choice Road

Chapter Three: The Past is Gone

The sunset glowed on the small regional airport, bathing the tarmac in a canopy of orange and purple. The terminal was modest, with only a few gates for regional carriers. Wren and Eric made use of one of the private gates. The jet waiting for them was larger than the two had envisioned.

Walking towards the plane, Wren whispered into Eric's ear, "Maybe Malcolm is into human trafficking and is planning to abduct us. Send me off to Asia to work in a brothel. You are off to become a boy toy in a male harem for a sheik."

"Does that frighten or excite you?" Eric asked.

"A little of both," Wren replied.

The pair laughed.

An attractive young flight attendant greeted them at the bottom of the stairs. "Welcome, Mr. and Ms. Powell. I am Brielle. I will be your hostess on the flight; welcome aboard. The pilots have to make a few final checks, and we should be in the air in less than ten minutes."

Wren and Eric entered the jet and were immediately impressed with its elegance. Decorated in an African style with dark wood and leather. Many pieces of African art adorned its walls.

The plane contained a well-equipped bar and lounge with a large-screen television. Beyond the lounge was comfortable seating for the passengers with plush seats.

Brielle, the perky blonde hostess, informed them of all the cabin's customizable features. She finished her instruction by guiding them to their seats to prepare for take-off.

"Would you care for refreshments and appetizers? The bar and galley are well-appointed, I assure you." Brielle asked.

"Tequila, neat," Eric declared.

"A tequila, man!" Brielle exclaimed with a bright smile. She touched Eric's sleeve, and her sparkling green eyes lingered on him for far too long. Was Brielle flirting with her husband? Wren wondered. Thinking it fortunate, it was a short flight.

"And for you, Ms. Powell?" Brielle asked as almost an afterthought, her enthusiasm diminished.

"I'm fine, thank you," Wren replied.

"Very good," and Brielle disappeared into the galley.

"Did you complete the online information?" Eric asked.

"Yes, I went over the multitudes of limits and acceptance rules," Wren confirmed.

"That documents left no stone unturned," He agreed.

"Any second thoughts?"

"None whatsoever. How about you?"

"Off with the old and on with the new,"

Brielle reappeared with a friendly smile, holding a large crystal shot glass of Clase Azul. "Enjoy your drink, Mr. Powell," she said politely, handing him the glass.

Wren noted Brielle's fingertips glancing over Eric's wrist as she gave him the shot glass.

"Is there anything else I can assist you with?" Brielle asked sweetly.

Wren turned her head toward the window and away from curvaceous Brielle before silently mouthing the words. "Is there anything else..."

"I am sorry, Ms. Powell, I missed that. Is there anything I can get you?"

"I am fine, thank you," Wren responded with an insincere smile. A touch embarrassed at being caught in a jealous moment.

Brielle smiled, tossing her long, luxurious blond hair over her shoulder, and returned to the galley, her full round bottom and wide hips swaying the entire way.

"She was flirting with you, Eric."

"Really? I would have noticed."

"Sweetie, you would be one of the last to grasp it," Wren said with a smirk.

"Malcolm was flirting with you at the bar when we met him." Eric retorted teasingly.

"Don't be so sure he was flirting with me."

"What makes you say that?"

"I mean, yes, he was flirting. How do you know the seduction wasn't to get to you."

"He comes on to you to seduce me? Not sure I follow that logic."

"Maybe in Malcolm's view, he thinks he needs me to have you. After all, you apply to the Society as a couple. You presented us as a packaged set."

"I doubt the Society thinks of you as anything less than desirable. Malcolm told me women members are always in short supply, especially Dommes. He said that there is a tier membership system. Single women are admitted with practically no membership fees. Couples pay more, and single men pay the most."

"Wait, is there a membership fee? You never told me that."

"I didn't think to tell you."

"How much?"

"I don't know."

"That doesn't sound like you, Luv."

"That is because we didn't pay it."

"Now I am confused."

"We didn't pay a membership fee because we have a patron."

"A patron?"

"A patron is someone who supports with money or gifts."

Wren smacked Eric on the shoulder. "I know what a patron is; I don't know who the patron is?"

"Neither do I. Let's be glad we do. Between monthly and yearly fees for a couple. It could run over seventy-five thousand dollars at a minimum."

Wren's face frowned. "Who would pay that kind of money for us to be members?"

"Don't know, just happy they have."

"Aren't you curious?"

"A little, though not enough to not enjoy the perk. I am sure they will make themselves known in time." Eric, for once, sounded more confident than Wren.

"Malcolm told you this?"

"Yes,"

Wren would love to have been gratified by the sponsorship. Still, deep down, it made her uneasy owning her benefit to an unknown entity.

"Maybe it is Malcolm. After all, he sent this plane and arranged the weekend."

"Maybe,"

"Rich and handsome, that man has it all."

"He sure does," Eric added lustfully.

"No matter how I try, Eric, it's weird talking to your husband about being attracted to the same man."

"You are attracted to Malcolm, I mean beyond the play?" Eric responded with a tinge of surprise. He hadn't considered that aspect, though he knew he should have.

Wren nodded.

Eric was silent momentarily, then asked, "How is it different than if we were both attracted to the same woman?"

"It's not or I am not sure. It isn't really. It may be because I can't compete in the same way. You know, as in I don't offer the same equipment. It is stupid; it is not like there aren't millions of women who have flawless skin, perfect hair, and bigger breasts. It's not like I could neutralize his attractiveness by being more womanly. Never mind me, sounds like I have been to crazy town."

Wren was now wondering where this newfound jealousy had come from. Eric had a string of male lovers before and during their marriage, which never elicited this feeling.

Eric pondered for a moment and said nothing. During their marriage, he had learned to overcome his lawyer's instinct to get the last word. At times, it is better to let sleeping dogs lie. He sipped his drink and settled back into the extremely comfortable leather seat.

Wren watched him release a sigh of relief. The past few weeks had been trying for both of them. Eric looked like he had finally found a moment of peace, and the weight of the world had lifted from his shoulders.

Soon, the jet took off into the night sky. The couple gazed out the window into the darkness, with the stars twinkling against the night sky. Eric took hold of Wren's hand and squeezed it softly before lovingly kissing her neck.

Wren cupped his face, returned his kiss, placed her head upon his shoulder, and watched the world pass beyond the plane's window. It was a moment of pure bliss and serenity, causing Wren to wonder if this was the calm before the storm. She wished they could stay like this forever. For several minutes, she watched the world beneath her.

"Penny, for your thoughts," Eric said.

"Just wondering if Malcolm has a secret room where he keeps all the panties he has taken. Maybe he has them framed and hanging on the wall in some trophy room." Wren answered.

"What makes you think he has taken that many panties?"

Wren gave her husband a look of playful condescension. "Really, you think that is the first time he has ever done that when he took mine?" referring to taking her underwear at the hotel suite. "I bet he has at least one pair of Brielle's, if not more," nodding towards the back of the plane where Brielle was sitting out of earshot.

"Truthfully, I have never given it much thought. You think Malcolm has a panty fetish?" Eric asked.

"More like tokens of his conquests," Wren answered, quickly changing the conversion, not genuinely interested in any fetish or point system Malcolm may have. "I am having a hard time believing we are doing this."

"Have you changed your mind?"

"No, not at all."

"You know you can."

"Yes, I know that. It's more about how things will change. How going forward, things will be different."

"Really, how so?"

"Eric, if I didn't know you better, I might think you dense. Even so, you being coy isn't any better. Of course, this will alter things. The question is, how?"

"You don't like how things are, and this is changing that direction."

"Every once in a while, I hate it when you are right."

Wren smiled and kissed him.

"Everything will be fine, you'll see."

Wren could only hope he was right.

"I am just being a bit insane. Maybe it's the two weeks of no sex."

"What? Oh, right." Eric's current hardness reminded him of their ordered abstinence. The couple had not engaged in sex the two weeks prior.

"It is like that old television show from the nineties. The bet about no sex. You know, the one where all the characters wager how long they can go without masturbating. The guys all get smarter, and the girl gets dumber."

"Oh yeah, my dad loves that show."

"Maybe I am not upset; just too ignorant to accept this is the right decision."

Wren decided to drop the conversation. Was she trying to sabotage their relationship? Why was every little thing suddenly setting her off? There was no reason to go down this path on the eve of a new beginning. Eric put his arm around her, and she nuzzled in close.

They flew on with the only sound of the jet engines' gentle hum. The pair snuggled under a cozy blanket and gazed out the window, taking in the moonlit world below. Soon, they found themselves in restful slumber.

*Fourteen Days Earlier*

After a long day, Wren and Eric decided dinner at their favorite noodle shop would be easier than making dinner at home. Neither had any culinary talents. The pair ordered their favorites and sat, enjoying the warm comfort of the cozy restaurant as they chatted about their day.

Returning home, a package was waiting for them on their doorstep and addressed to Mr. and Ms. Powell. Eric picked up the box and examined it, noting the sender's address. "Bonehelms Fine Arts?" he said.

"Sorry means nothing to me, Luv. Besides, I quit my Amazon addiction two years ago." Wren offered.

The pair look at one another. "It is not going to unwrap itself." Wren teased.

The two stepped inside their home. The package was about two feet tall and very heavy. Once opened, it contained a smaller black lacquer box inside. Eric opened the box, revealing a dark red velvet-lined casing cradling a fine white marble sculpted figure. They both stared at the nude female torso tied in Japanese rope bondage. It was undeniably an expensive work of art.

Eric gingerly removed the statue from the box and then hefted it, gauging its weight. "It's pretty substantial."

"Pity, doubt this is going on the mantel." Wren giggled.

"Well, it would be quite the conversation piece."

"Look, there is a note at the bottom," Wren picked it up.

"What does it say?"

<< Powell's

I have arranged for us to meet at my estate the upcoming weekend, two weeks from now. Your cooperation is expected, and any failure to comply will be viewed unfavorably.

Eric, I will contact you later this week with further details. Expect a call on your private number as usual. I must stress that neither of you should engage in any form of sexual activity for the next two weeks. This includes masturbation. Enforcement will be on the honor system; for now, adherence is crucial.

Malcolm >>

"That's it?"

"That's it," Wren replied, running her long fingers over the sculpted figure before putting the note back in the case.

*****

The jet approached the small upstate airport nestled in a valley among the low hills. As the plane descended towards the runway, Brielle made her way toward the slumbering couple. She gently tapped Eric's shoulder, now fast asleep with Wren's head resting on his other shoulder. Eric woke as Wren stirred and rubbed her eyes, shaking off her grogginess.

Brielle smiled reassuringly. "Mr. and Ms. Powell. We're about to land. Please put your seat in an upright position and make sure your seatbelts are fastened as well."

The couple complied as Brielle moved to the cockpit, informing the pilots that their passengers were ready for landing. The pilots, unseen by the couple for the entire flight, carried out a smooth landing. The couple peered at the darkened airport as the plane touched down, illuminated only by the landing lights and a few hangers in the distance. The lights of a town glowed in the distance as the plane taxied towards the waiting SUV.

"Welcome to Pinecrest," Brielle said, beaming. "Master requests that you both be naked upon arriving. Strip, please." Brielle continued.

Wren reckoned a change in Briellie's tone upon landing.

Wren and Eric looked at one another, titling their heads with an irresolute glance, remembering their Master's orders. The request surprised both, though any thought of refusing never entered their mind. Wren convinced Brielle's newfound authoritative tone was a factor in their compliance.

Once naked, Brielle carefully folded the couple's clothes. She delicately arranged them in a Tumi carry-on the two had brought. Malcolm had given Eric specific instructions to pack lightly. He made it clear essential items only as he would be in charge of their attire or lack thereof for the duration of their weekend. Not a hint of unusualness showed her face as she surveyed the naked pair, suggesting such encounters were commonplace in her world.

"Our shoes?" asked Eric.

"Your shoes also; you will, however, wear these," Brielle said, producing a tray with two collars and sets of cuffs. "If you would, Ms. Powell, ladies, first."

"I was hoping Master Malak would be collaring us," Wren said teasingly.

"Master is not overly concerned with adornments to signify submission. He prefers deeds and actions to fashionable displays. However, he believes it would benefit you both to wear ornamentation, as many in the group enjoy the showiness."

Wren rose from her seat, offering her neck to the hostess. In Brielle's hand was a thin leather collar encased in black velvet. The inside of the collar was lined with the softness of red silk. It was of simple design, highlighted by a large sparkling dark blue sapphire in the front. The collar featured a gold clasp in the back for a lock and a simple small gold D hook in the front just below the sapphire.

As Brielle approached with the collar, Wren could feel her heart racing with anticipation. Brielle stood before her, looking her up and down with a mixture of sensuality and control. With the collar in hand, she gently took hold of Wren's chin, tilting her head slightly and brushing her hair back. She placed the collar around Wren's neck, securing it with a small gold lock.

Brielle stepped back, admiring the collar and commenting, "Very nice, Ms. Powell. You have such a lovely, long, slender neck."

Wren's fingertips moved across the collar, feeling a sense of vulnerability and submission. It was a silly feeling; nevertheless, she had willingly given herself to Malcolm with the collar, trusting him completely. At least, that is the way she felt, even if it were not the case. She considered Malcolm wasn't there, yet she could feel his presence through the collar around her neck, or at least that was what she wanted to feel.

Brielle whispered, "You look beautiful. This collar symbolizes your connection to our Master, his trust in you, and each other. Wear it with pride."

Bingo Wren reasoned it was clear to her now that Brielle was one of Malcolm's submissives. Before Wren could ponder the implications of that relationship, Brielle pressed her lips to hers. Startled, Wren froze momentarily. The sensation was electric, sending shivers down her spine.

The kiss deepened, their tongues exploring each other's mouths with an intensity that left her breathless. Brielle pulled away, leaving Wren gasping for air as they looked into each other's eyes with desire and longing. Wren had never kissed another woman before in any way approaching sensual; now she was wondering what she had been missing. Wren was sure her face radiated a deep red as a hot flush rose from her neck and worked its way up her cheeks and forehead.

Eric, for his part, was taking it all in with lustful satisfaction as his manhood also rose to the occasion. Wren beheld that her husband still appeared to be one hundred percent bisexual, at least at the moment.

With the two women still facing each other, Breille turned her attention back to the table beside her. The tray still contained another collar and 4 sets of cuffs, all leather and expensively crafted like Wren's collar.

Brielle wordlessly indicated to Wren to extend her arms, with Wren compiling most willingly. One set of cuffs on the tray was much more delicate. It was the more delicate-looking wrist cuffs that Brielle selected next. She picked up the dainty red velvet-lined black leather cuff and placed it on Wren's wrist. Once again, as with the collar, she fastened it securely and then moved on to the other wrist, repeating the process with the matching cuff.

Next, Brielle picked up the pair of ankle cuffs matching the wrist cuffs from the tray. She lowered herself to a kneeling position in front of Wren.

In a firm, sensual voice, Breille commanded. "Extend your right leg, please, Ms. Powell."

Wren followed the order, stretching out her right leg. She could feel Brielle's warm breath on her calf as she bent down to attach the cuff to her ankle. Once more, the hostess placed the cuff on her ankle, securing the clasp with a gold lock. Then, she repeated the process on the other ankle.

Breille's fingers caressed Wren's ankle as she spoke, "These are beautiful pieces made by a world-class leather artisan, especially for our Master. They're perfect."

As she rose, her tongue ran along the soft skin of Wren's calf. Her attention alternated between Wren's legs as she moved higher. Resting her lips upon each knee, kissing both, before moving upward along Wren's thighs. Finally, she came to rest with her lips nestled against Wren's sex.

Wren's body trembled as Brielle worked her tongue along the velvety folds of her womanhood. Feeling Brielle's tongue tease the pearl of her sex every so lightly. With that, Breille rose to stand with a smile, leaving her breathless again and wishing for more.

Brielle then turned her attention to Eric, now sporting a torrid erection bobbing about. Wren, too, noted his obvious tumescences as a giggle escaped her lips.

Eric's collar was considerably larger, thicker, and far less dainty than Wren's. Like hers, it was of the finest quality leather minus the luxurious lining. Unlike Wren's more jeweled collar, his sported only steel D hooks on all four sides. It was a man's collar, to be sure, sturdy enough to withstand the most intense play. Wren couldn't help but wonder if her adornment was for show and Eric's meant business.

Brielle moved towards Eric, black leather collar in hand. He watched her approach with a mix of anticipation and nervousness. He knew what was about to happen but still couldn't believe it would happen. Brielle moved in front of him and held up the collar, showing it to him. She leaned close to him and whispered, "Are you ready for this?"

Eric nodded.

"Good boy," She smiled and lifted the collar, placing it around his neck. She tightened it firmly to make him feel its presence, short of choking him. He felt the weight on his neck and the cool leather against his skin, a sensation that sent shivers down his spine.