My Nightmare Before Christmas

A friend I hadn't seen since St. Patrick's Day called earlier in the week and asked me to dinner, " ...ya know, just to catch up..." My telephone rang early the morning of our dinner; it was her offering some coffee and an Egg McMuffin she picked up from McDonalds.

That's when she brought up her idea, and said she wanted me to think it over during the day before making any reply whatsoever. That was fine with me - I finished my coffee and headed out the door to go to work, blinking and shaking my head.

As you might imagine, I was absent-minded and distracted all day, and I realized at about 4:00 that I had forgotten lunch entirely. I called her up and asked if she would mind having an early supper, and she agreed.

We made some small talk during supper, but I was really focused on getting some food in my stomach. Between skipping lunch and drinking too much coffee during the day, I was thoroughly wired.

"So," she said as the waiter left the check and walked away, "have you given any thought to my proposal?"

"Yes, I've been thinking it over." That was an understatement.

"This party you want to go to - you're pretty sure no one there is going to know who I am?" I asked.

She nodded. "I can virtually guarantee that no one at the party will know you. This is a pretty eclectic group, no one will show up uninvited, and everybody involved has a vested interest in as much discretion as can be reasonably exercised. That's why the whole "masquerade ball" idea caught the interest of the group - everyone will be masked, and we won't be taking the masks off at midnight."

"Sounds a bit like 'Eyes Wide Shut,' if you ask me."

"Not at all! If anyone steps out of line to the slightest degree, there will be no shortage of people lining up to pitch the offender out into the street. A little naughty pleasure and a touch of thrilling fear is one thing, but abuse and coercion are right out."

"Do you trust these people?"

"Without a doubt, all of the attendants will be somehow involved in the arts and that community, either as artists themselves or benefactors maybe..."

"Why not just go without me?"

"No, John - I couldn't, they wouldn't let me in the room without a partner, the purpose of the whole event is to play as couples, exploring boundaries in a safe environment with your partner."

"But we aren't partners, not that way anyway!"

"We've both been curious about BD/sm for a long time, that's what you and I will explore. We come up with a stop word, to have safe boundaries."

I stared off into space for a few minutes, then grinned.

"All right, why not? When is this party?"

"Grab a quick shower at your place, our costumes are in my car, there."

"What? Right now?" I sputtered.

"Right now! I thought it would be best if you didn't have a lot of time to worry over it." I had to admit, she had a point.

I showered and toweled off while she got into her costume, and soon we were off to the Halloween party. She tossed the keys to the valet, and we found a dark nook in the entryway of the house so that she could make the final adjustments to my costume.

I felt like Batman when she slipped the black leather half-hood over my head, and zipped it down the back. After a few more minutes of fumbling and adjusting my overcoat, she led me by the elbow. She knocked twice, quietly, and I heard the door open.

"Come in, come in! May I take your coats?" The voice seemed friendly enough.

"Not just yet," she replied. "Ah, certainly. Right this way!"

He led us into a large living room. The party was alive with the murmur of conversation and the clink of glasses.

"Ah, here's another pair of friends," a voice called out from across the room. The conversations grew quiet.

"Come up here, then, and let's see your costumes. I've got a pretty good idea what you're going for, but this strapping gentleman presents a bit of a mystery!"

My knees trembled a little as she led me across the room and everyone's eyes seemed to be upon me, but I kept my head up. This was gut-check time - I could always cry "Uncle!" and run away, but I decided to tough it out. My friend turned me to face the room, chuckling.

"Well, as you might have guessed, I'm dressed as the Master." I heard a few titters pass through the group, and I smiled as I imagined her standing there in her leather gear.

"And what Master," she continued, "is complete without a slave?"

As she spoke, she peeled my overcoat apart from top to bottom and dropped it on the floor behind me. Everyone in the room gasped, and I heard a couple of drinks go down the wrong way - someone was coughing while another pounded him between the shoulder blades.

My heart took off like a jackhammer, and I felt a blush pour across every inch of my skin. The room was totally silent. My nipples hardened, and I shivered briefly.

My Halloween costume consisted of a pair of silk shirt cuffs (with black buttons) around my wrists, a snug leather hood that covered the top half of my face, and the back of my head. The hood ended at a black leather collar (with a white bow tie attached) dangling a long chain. Around my trunk I wore a black fishnet g-string.

That's it.

She handed my coat to someone beside her, took my chain in her hand, and said, "Ta-Da!" as she slowly turned me around in a full circle.

Someone approached us, "My word," the feminine voice offered "The guy deserves a drink after that, if I may be so bold."

"Definitely," agreed my friend, and just like that, my hand was holding a glass of excellent white wine.

"I'd like to sit down," I whispered, feeling very vulnerable and exposed.

"Just a second - someone's fetching a towel for you to sit on, like they do at nudist colonies." I filed that tidbit away for future reference. She gave me some more wine, then led me over to a couch. Someone put the towel down, and more than two hands, from behind, guided me down to it. I clenched a fist, wondering who else was touching me.

After another glass, I told myself to stop worrying so much about the people around me. There were probably twenty or so people at the party, and no one tried to engage me in conversation. I felt a little self-conscious at times, but the hood helped - everytime my thoughts about sitting there naked on the couch crept up. I began to wonder if my friend had not gone a little "over the top" with my costume - perhaps the whole room was shunning the both of us for our display of bad manners, or some such.

"Don't overthink this," she whispered in my ear. She was reading the set of my mouth and my body language perfectly.

"No one is upset, horrified, or aghast. More than a few are openly admiring your courage, in fact - mostly wishing they could get up the nerve to do something like this themselves."

"If you're ready, a few Dom's in training have asked for my slave's services."

"Like what kind of services?!," I said a little to loud, as I felt several heads turn our way.

"How would I know? Well I can guess, you see not many women see the male body. So much about guys remains a mystery to us. They probably just want to take advantage of an opportunity to explore. Besides we both wanted to explore this ourselves, that's why we are here. Think about it, I'll go get us a drink and some munchies."

After a minute or two had passed, I felt someone settle into the couch beside me. A small, warm hand patted my shoulder.

"Don't mind me - I've just got to sit down and take a breather. These shoes are killing me." I tried to place the accent, but couldn't. Something Asian, perhaps? She sounded fairly normal - just a woman at a party, taking refuge from foot cramps.

"N-no problem," I stammered, twiddling my fingers together from nervousness.

"I've got to say your courage is admirable. Is it ok if I stare at you from time to time?"

"I don't mind - ah, I mean as long as it's ok with my master." I blushed severely.

She laughed easily, comfortably. "Didn't she tell you anything about the party?"

"Not a whole lot - just the basics, I guess. That's probably just as well." I wondered again where my "master" had gone.

"Are you all right? Are you comfortable with all this?" she asked quietly, leaning close.

"Oh, I'm fine - this is certainly... interesting!"

She chuckled, patting me on the thigh. "That's the spirit!" she said. I felt the couch shift as she stood up, and then she wandered back across the room.

Finally, my master came back and sat beside me. We ate cheese cubes and various other finger foods, along with more wine. The party was in full swing, as we headed for the stairs.

"I'm worried about this."

"It's ok, I told them very sternly no one hurts or tortures my slave."

She guided me by the arm, down the steps and around a corner. I heard a TV, and some light conversation. The floor went cold to my feet, then back onto carpeting before we stopped.

"It insults me that you allow your slave so much clothing. Remove them." The voice was female and sour.

"No one removes their mask at this party," my friend defended.

As I began to add "and I'm only wearing fishnet anyway," an arm grazed my shoulder then lifted my chain, constricting my throat.

"I am Arianna, or Ma'am to you -- nor do you speak in our presence, unless you are spoken too. Is that clear slave?"

"Yes Ma'am," I tried to nod.

"Mistress, I don't wish to contaminate these trainees with an unruly slave. Please remind him of his position while we depart to mingle upstairs. When it's prepared, set it on the couch, we shall return momentarily," came the sour directive.

Jennifer, my friend of 20+ years, helped me out of my shirt cuffs and g-string. Now, naked except for my hood and collar, she guided me to the couch.

"Are you all right?" she whispered, offering me a sip of her drink.

"Whoa..." I shook my head to clear it.

"We don't have to do this. Do you wanna leave?

We're here for your party, anyway I'm ok, really," I bluffed.

I heard the movement coming toward us. Murmurs and directions seemed to come rapidly, but none seemed directed at me. When I felt silk brush my foot, I twitched reflexively.

"Seems your new friends would enjoy a better view," she said. "Relax, it's ok."

"Yes ma'am, that's fine," I said, leaning forward for another sip.

She scooted me forward a bit until I could feel the hard edge of the couch, then enlisted a couple of people to help build a big mound of couch cushions behind me. I settled back like a Royal subject on the pillow pile, completely comfortable. Busy hands wrapped scarves around my ankles, knotted them tight, and gently drew my legs up and apart. When I was fully spread, a series of jerks and tugs told me that the scarves were being tied somehow to the ends of the couch. After that, I wiggled around a bit to get more comfortable and smiled to show that I was nicely settled.

I got the impression that most of the people in the room were gathered close by, watching. Quite a few were right there on top of me - at some signal I couldn't see or hear a hand lathered my rectum with a cold lubricant.

I tried to clap my thighs together, and I knew I was covered in a burning blush.

Multiple hands, in turn, began palpitating my testicles, abdomen, and thighs. I could feel my blush migrate to my growing erection. Was Jenny touching me? I think I heard five voices, but could not tell how many hands. One, on my thigh, had a familiar touch. I remember wondering if her feet still hurt.

The grasp behind the glans of slugger jolted me out of my reverie.

"Firm pressure here, deflates the annoyance. If left unchecked, its scrotum hardens as the testicles rise." Sourly spoken again.

True to her word, I began to deflate. Then, again as if on cue, the hands began their caresses as a finger penetrated my rear end. I heard more directions, possibly about walnuts. The sensations made so much a blur. I could tell by the shuffling, many different hands were, in turn, reaching their fingers to massage my prostate. I couldn't help wondering if Jenny was doing this too.

Fully erect again, my shaft was being masturbated, while my sack was being outwardly pulled with other hands on me or in my rectum. I drew a deep, startled gasp, and most of the party guests did the same. I couldn't even speak - The hands touching me froze when I gasped, and then resumed their exploration of me when I didn't scream or flip out. The buildup was fast, insistent, and spectacular -- a minute later, I came hard with a wordless howl that rattled the room. All the hands drifted away, and I lay there panting, totally shattered.

"Are you all right?" she whispered.

"Whoa..." I shook my head to clear it.

"Oh! Tell me I didn't just - "

"You did."

I tried closing my thighs together, and I knew I was covered in a burning blush. I felt her tentatively place the towel on my stomach and then I smelled my cum.

"It's all right - it's cool! Listen - everybody's just having a good time, like we are." As I turned my head back and forth to listen closely, I could tell she was right - I heard normal cocktail-party sounds, even down here. I blew out a big sigh of relief and sagged back against the cushions.

"Where did everybody go," I asked.

"Oh, they're around here somewhere. One of your new friends really enjoyed that experience -- I'm sure she'll return soon."

"Not as much as I did, or she'd have asked for the towel."

After cleaning up, I donned my "costume." The rest of the party, I was a nervous wreck. The ride home was extremely awkward until she confessed she was an observer, not a "hands on" participant.

That's why I'm in my costume again, peeking through the Christmas tree for Jenny's arrival. Being her slave again, and alone, is the present she wanted. Once I calm my nerves, I'll really enjoy the prostate part.

I hope she brings a lubricant...