Master's Masquerade

Dreariness surrounds the bright room in which she sits quietly. Lost in her meditation, the clouds outside mean nothing to her peaceful inner workings. Her body contorted to its state of thought and clearing, her mind continues to race against this daily ritual. She's unable to completely clear His odor from her hair, her body, and her clothes. She inhales deeply to take it in once more and sighs it out knowing when she's been beaten by her thoughts betraying this moment of solace. She gives up then. Picking her body from the plush carpet of the hotel room, she saunters to the window and peers out. Her thoughts turn to the happenings of the previous night.

His body pressed to her...her arms and legs bound tight...His scent lingering around her...hands exploring every crevice and curve of her soft skin...His hard thick member piercing into her dripping sweetness over and over...her screams shattering the silence of the dark night...their erotic climax which ended in her being released from the restraints onto His great massive chest and falling safely asleep.

Unfortunately, when she awoke in the soft silken sheets of the hotel bed, she was alone. All that was left of Him was a note and a single rose. The note told of His need to go away for business, but also that He would call her later in the afternoon. As she rereads it, tears well in her eyes and her forlorn look returns for she has never not kissed Him goodbye before. "It must have been very important for Him not to wake me," she thinks as she fixes a plate of fresh fruit and iced tea. She nibbles slowly lost in thought. As she places a slice of apple to her lips, there's a knock at the door.

Curious, she rises and folds her fluffy robe around her. Pulling the cord tight around her waist, she opens the door to find a bellhop smiling wide. He presents her with an envelope and quickly retreats down the winding hall. Her head cocks to the side as she wonders why he didn't stick around for a tip as is the norm. She shuts the door behind her as her fingers trace the fine paper. She notes quickly that it isn't addressed to anyone in particular. She rushes to the oak desk in the corner and rifles through the drawers to find what it is she needs...a letter opener. The cold metal slices through the thin paper like butter as she pulls it open and finds an invitation. Her delicate fingers trace the fine gold lettering as she reads "You are hereby invited to attend a masquerade ball tonight". A coach will pick you up promptly at 8 PM. Please be waiting in the lobby at the appointed time.

Again she reads it and notices it contains no return address or signature or place where this will be held. Anxiety sweeps through her as she wonders what this could be about. Before she can think of anything else, there's another knock at the door. She rushes to meet the person on the other side. Once more, the same bellhop stands before her. This time, however, he holds a large box. He forces his way past her into the room and sets it on the bed. He turns and smiles that same knowing smile as he slips out pulling the door shut behind him. Her body in near shock, she glides to the bed and sits her weight along the box. A large white box tied with a coal black velvet bow leers at her, tempting her to open it. It's then that she notices a card tucked beneath the bow. Inside it says, "Wear this tonight." She flips it over and over and finds that's all it says. Her curiosity gets the better of her as she rips the package open and finds the most delicious thing awaiting her. A black gown of the finest velvet encrusted with tiny rubies and shimmering gold thread embroidered around every piece. She pulls it up to her skin and nuzzles against the softness. Quickly she drags it to the full-length set of mirrors near the bed and dances with the garment as a giddy child would do.

The robe slipping down her body, she steps into the exquisite form and finds oddly that it fits her like a fine glove, like it was made expressly for her frame. Strapless and seemingly to hold to her figure as a feather on the breeze, it flares sharply in delicious tiers out just below her stomach. As her fingers run along the dark soft crisp velvet, she feels a swell of fear rise deep within. Who is this from? Why her? Why now? She drops the gown to the floor and backs to the wall. Her breath tight in her chest, she runs and throws herself to the bed.

Rolling to the nightstand, her fingers grasp the phone and quickly dial His cell phone. It rings once, twice, three times..."Damn," she screams as the phone drops with the answering service talking loudly. She hangs it up and lies there naked on top of the quilted blankets. Tears rise to the surface as another knock resounds throughout the room. Again, she flies to meet the knocking. Her robe slipping back on, she answers. Again it is the bellhop. He now hands her a small elegantly wrapped box and turns to leave. This time, she reaches to hold him to stay for a moment. "Who is all of this from? Who beckoned you to bring theses to me?" The tall bellhop looks down to meet her gaze and just smiles. "I'm not permitted to say m'lady." At that, he turns and flees quickly, a smile still gracing his face.

Slowly, her fingers pry the box open to find many various objects inside. First, she pulls out an intricate mask of black, red and gold adorned with feathers and beads. Next, she finds a crown beguiled in rubies and gold bands of swirls. The final piece of finery in the deep box is a choker of the same ebony leather trimmed with velvet and set with a single heart shaped ruby. A gasp floods her mouth as she steps back to find a chair to fall into. Never has her eyes laid upon such attractive pieces.

Her jaw agape, she faintly hears the phone ringing in the background. With a dive, her body flails across the bed to pounce on the irritating ring. She breathlessly utters, "Hello." His voice brings her to reality as He whispers a hello back. She sits up straight and begins to sob to Him the whole story. He sounds as if He's about to laugh out loud as He quietly calms her. "I forgot about the ball precious. I still want You to go on without me. It will be a memorable night I'm sure, and I expect a full report when I return tomorrow morning. Know I'm with You in spirit. I must run now as I'm being called away. My love is with You." Then, without warning, He is gone.

Trembling, her hand slips to the side still clenching the phone. Desperately seeking an answer in her mind, she realizes she never got to ask His opinion on what to do about the rest ~ the dress, the jewelry, what this is all about. The wind outside picks up as she paces from the window to where the gown lies in a heap on the floor. Back and forth she continues until she comes to a decision. She shall go to this ball as He had commanded and see why this is all happening, but leave the coach out front in case she wants or needs to depart quickly. With her mind now set, she heads to the shower as time has been ticking away with the utmost speed.

The hot water beading up on her body, the pulse of the water pounding down on her breasts, the slippery soap sliding around her body with quickening ease...her hands moving deftly around her arms, legs, only tarrying on the sweet spots momentarily before she washes her hair and slips out. How much she hates to remove the lingering aroma of her Master from her skin, but some things can't be helped. The towel soaks up each tiny droplet as it rubs over her soft skin. A dab of vanilla scented lotion skims across every inch of flesh to make it lusciously pliable. A black satin corset waits to hug fast to her breasts and waist. Each foot steps into it as her voluptuous hips wiggling it up over them. A tiny pair of g-string panties follows to become taut against her sweet lower parts. Unrolling a sheer pair of black stockings, they glide up each milky white thigh effortlessly. The garter snaps into place at the front and back of each lacy topper.

She stares at her reflection in the wall of mirrors in the bedroom and is calmly pleased. The crown is carefully removed from the box and held tight as she stares into the gems one by one. Once more, she returns to the bath to fix her hair in a way that suits her face and the gown. She leaves it down, but pins up a few strands at the crown. Tiny crystal rubies are adjusted at different places attached to separate strands to give the effect of floating about her hair. As her head twists from each side, it shimmers with jeweled elegance. With a blast of spray to hold it in place, she spins to make sure that each piece is perfection.

Her feet pad along the plush gray carpet to pick up the gown and shake it out. Again, she pulls it against her skin to revel in the luxurious richness of the fabric. Noting the time and the closeness of the appointed hour, she slips her body into it. The bodice grips her breasts like the coils of a snake winding around her. The flowing yards of cloth below sweep around her legs with savory movements. Each foot slips into a set of velvet spiked heels that lift her a few inches above her small 5-foot stature. All at once, she remembers the rest of the finery that was also delivered. Suddenly, she feels like a fairytale princess who awaits her handsome prince. That feeling brings back the fact that her sweet Master is gone. With a silent screaming sadness, she fingers the soft choker wondering what the meaning is behind this band holding taut against her neck now. It too fits with a strange closeness. Finally, she fastens the mask to her facial features, covering up most of her looks, but allowing her sight and smell resting just above her luscious lips.

With a twirl, she gives one last inspection before grabbing a small purse and tucks it under her arm. Her soft coal midnight cloak is then draped over her arm. Nerves shot to hell, she moves to the door. Glancing around the room, she heaves a great sigh and departs down the hall. Her senses heightened in great amounts, she notes everything she sees to report it back to her Master as soon as she wraps her arms around Him. The lobby is busy as people prepare to go out for the evening. However, all commotion stops as she steps off of the elevator. Hushed whispers and quiet stares cause her anxiety but also a wondrous elation.

The same bellhop from earlier in the day rushes to her side to usher her out to the waiting coach. He takes her cloak and slips it over her bare shoulders to shelter her from the chill gracing the air. The horses even turn to her as she steps from the glass doors. Lightening streaks across the black sky with a crack of thunder accompanying behind. Swiftly, the driver hops down to open the side door. His eyes nearly fondle her as she moves toward him. She is sure to direct him to wait at the destination for her to depart. He nods and beams brightly. She turns once more to the bellhop and smiles softly. He returns with a knowing glance and a huge grin as he turns to leave. The burgundy plush interior cradles her gently as the horses pull away.

The coach bounces along the dimly lit street with a constant gait. Across the way, she sees a small envelope and crimson rose tipped in ebony. The stem held fast in her hand, she brings it up to her nose to inhale deeply its aroma. Rapidly, she tears open the tiny paper to find only the words ~ be polite, enjoy yourself, dance with no one, do as you're told, and know I'm watching. Again, no signature! Waves of trepidation wash through her bringing a dread with them. Those words ring out as a horrid premonition that what she has done somehow will bring her harm. Wrapping her cloak around her shoulders fighting back her fears, she stares out the window wistfully.

The cab pulls up a long winding drive until it stops in front of a large stone castle. Lit only with torches, the gaping drawbridge is wide open appearing as if it would swallow her whole. Imposing towers jut upward from the bowels of the castle walls. Masked guests rush to and fro as servants attend to their every whim. Their coats and hats are swept away as quickly as they are handed over. Her driver jumps down and calms the horses quickly. "Spooked by the lightening no doubt," she thinks to herself. At once, servants subdue her. One opens the door, one escorts her from the cabin, one primps at her clothes and hair, and one offers her a crystal flute of champagne. The entire dotage causes flames to fly to her face and turn her cheeks to match the color that her name implies. Whisking her through the grand entrance, she glances back to smile at the driver as he waves and climbs inside to wait per her instructions.

Coming into the majestic hall, her breath is taken away for mere moments that seem to last a lifetime. Elaborate carvings embellish every corner. Impressive works of art hang from the walls as other sculptures captivate her vision. The air is thick with the delectable incense of prepared food and drink. It hangs around her as dense clouds through which she can see. Her senses beguiled by all of the splendor around her. It is only then that she notices the stares that seem to come from each person that passes by her. Each gentleman proffers a bow to her slightly, each lady extending a smile of warmth in her wake. She thinks to ask why this comes to pass as it is, but she rethinks that and just smiles with a tiny nod of her head. Immediately, her thoughts are haunted by the note from the coach ~ be polite was one of the things it had said. Flush with another pang of fear, she then gazes around the hall to see if she can chose the one who lavished all of this on her. A realization that just about everyone is watching her leads her to fail in that task quickly.

Gently guided to another room, her cloak is slipped from her as well as her purse and rushed off. Her mouth opens to object, but the servant is already gone. "Where have they taken my things," she demands with a frown of one female attendant. Taken aback, she replies, "No worries m'lady. They are just being checked in the cloakroom. They will be returned when you leave." At the last part, she snickers and grins widely. Her gown is fluffed to rid it of any wrinkles and brushed for any sign of stray lint. Her body is dusted with a fine gold glitter like powder and her hair doted on to make it just so. A tube of lipstick is offered to her that she takes and glances in the mirror. Her lips purse together in a puckered kiss as she slicks the wetness onto them. Smacking them lightly, she once more checks herself and sees that indeed she has been transformed into a vision of beauty. She never thought much of her appearance before, thinking herself only average...this night however, she can't believe it is the same woman staring back through the looking glass.

Now, she is corralled into the main ballroom where couples glide along the dance floor and groups of guests chatter quietly. A minute orchestra is playing a fine waltz in the corner and flowers grace each table. Delicate china drips from each placing coupled with sterling utensils and sheer crystal flutes and goblets. Every face hidden is by a mask but smiles are evident on each. Laughter rises to great heights from all areas of the room. The attendants step back as she reaches the top of the prominent marble staircase. She carefully begins to descend. Her eyes sweeping the bodies, her gait forced, she balances her weight to shift her hips the way a lady would enter a room. A fairy tale comes to mind as she smiles inwardly. Cinderella at the ball! She feigns a giggle as she pictures herself only this morning with her sweaty exercise and silent meditation. Once reaching the platform at the bottom, two men dressed in the finest of tuxedoes (as every male is) take each hand and help her down the last step. They release her fingers with a swift bow and step back a few paces to rejoin their ladies.

Unsure of what to do now, she glides with unsure grace to a table and sits down. Her gown relaxing against her legs, she crosses one over another until she is comfortable for the moment. A plate of the ripest, freshest fruit is brought to her with two small bowls joining it. One holds the deepest chocolate sauce and the other offers a rich whipped cream. Her flute is again filled to the brim with bubbling delight. The music floats up through the air cutting into her mind. As she raises the glass to her soft pouty lips, a gentleman offers his hand to her. She gazes up to a man wearing a royal blue mask adorned with tiny seed pearls. His blond hair swept to the side and his frame blocking her view, she smiles but stays her place.

He bellows softly, "A dance m'lady?"

Remembering the note with a knot in the pit of her stomach, she shakes her head while replying, "No thank you kind Sir, but the offer is appreciated." Her clicks his heels as he bows and smiles simply as he turns to engage in other conversation. She exhales as she thinks that may have been a test of some sort. Again, her eyes sweep the room looking for a sign of her benefactor in this endeavor. This isn't to be once more.

After a few hours of drink and dance, the lights dim. The costumed guests take their seats as torches and candles are lit all around. Their stares seem to be focused on the huge platform that resembles to her a great stage. They wait in a still respect. A towering man steps out onto the platform and stands commanding at its edge. There's an air of near royalty about this man. He wears a mask similar that is similar to hers ... jet-black encrusted with small rubies, gold and feathers of the colors on the edging.

A blue streak of lightening breaks the night sky outside as his voice booms out above the crowd, "Thank you all for coming this evening. This is a very special night for me, and I'm pleased that you all could attend to witness it with me." Applause rings up as she finds her own hands tapping lightly together. She is mesmerized by this gentleman's powerful presence. Unable to look away, she blindly brings her glass to her lips to sip as she watches and waits for Him to speak once more.

"I shall endeavor to entertain you this evening with a willing volunteer." Again applause thunders throughout the room, but not one person moves to be this man's helper. She intently stares at Him, wanting to run to Him by her strange attraction and familiarity of his movements, but held fast in her seat by fear. He comes over to the corner of the stage nearest to her and crooks a finger beckoning her to Him. She glances around nervously to see whom He meant. Realizing that the motion was meant for her, she blushes and shakes her head to refuse. The same men who helped her down the stair come back to hook their arms in hers and pull her to her feet. A gasp climbs to her throat but never makes it out. Before she can object further, she is already wafting past tables and hoisted up onto the wide marble platform.

She stands before the crowd, now embarrassed and unsteady. The handsome man comes to stop before her and plucks her hand from her side. He proffers a small kiss to the tips of her fingers, and then pulls her to the center of view. She spins delightfully around to face the guests once again. Unable to see behind their masks, she can only hear their awe in their hushed tones.

He thunders out, "The lady scarlet." The audience raise their glasses in a respectful toast.

Her voice a tiny whisper, she ekes to Him, "I'm sorry Sir. I think there's been some mistake. I don't know how you know my name, or who You are, but I really think I should go." She begins to back up, her steps cautious. He offers only a loud laugh as her arms are then grabbed by two male figures clad in dark robes. Their faces are also hidden behind masks. As she struggles, He slips off to the side where she can no longer see Him. One man pulls her hands to lock behind her as the other slips a cold metal cuff onto each wrist. A seductive woman steps beside her and bends to her ear.