Masquerade

"Try it on," Alex said.

Jake placed the mask over his face and it fit like a glove, like it had been cast from his very face. The nose, the cheekbones, even the way his eyes were deep set fit perfectly. The mask, he had no doubt, would stay on even if he didn't tie the silk ribbon in the back.

"Looks as if you found your mask," Alex said. "Shall I wrap it up for you."

"Sure," Jake said, not wanting to take the mask off. He felt like Batman behind the mask. He felt different somehow. Surely that was ridiculous, but there was the strange sensation of being naked once he had removed the mask and handed it to Alex. She only smiled and placed the mask in a golden box filled with fleece.

The house was like a fucking castle. There was a stone gate with GRIMM chiseled into some expensive marble slabs embedded into the walls on both sides of the entrance. Two beefy men stood guard at the gate and checked and rechecked invitations as cars waited in line to get in.

It had taken Jake the better part of a half an hour to find the place. And now that he had finally found it he sort of felt out of sorts with the Lexus' and Acuras and BMWs and Mercedes lined up to enter the grounds.

The golden box, which within his Chameleon mask lay hidden, sat in the passenger seat. And not for the first time he thought about opening the box and putting it on. Putting it on and feeling like he had in the costume shop. Looking through the eye holes of the mask - like he was looking through someone elses eyes - had given him a feeling of uncompromising confidence and freedom.

Jake parked his car in the back of the estate. He couldn't subject himself the humiliation of having a valet park it for him. He didn't even have a valet key.

He took the mask out of the box and placed it on his face, tying the silk straps to hold it in place. The feeling of confidence flooded over him. If he would have had the mask on when he entered the estate he would have thought, "Fuck those valet's, I'm a goddamned lawyer".

Jake entered through the back entrance and was directed by a masked servant to follow the hallway down to the party.

"You can't miss it," the servant said to Jake. Jake feeling the man's eyes roam over his body.

As Jake began to walk down the hallway, a large picture hanging on the wall caught his eye. It was a framed portrait of Mr. Grimm and his wife. But it was Mrs. Grimm that really got Jake's attention. She was at least 30 years Mr. Grimm's junior. She had flaming dark, red hair cascading over her shoulders. Not a particularly stunning woman - which surprised Jake - but attractive in her own way. That fair skinned kind of beauty sprinkled with freckles, tantalizing lips the color of faded tea and wide sparkling brown eyes. Her shoulders were bare in a strapless dress, the creamy color of her skin flowing down like a waterfall into the crevice of her breasts.

Sherrie Grimm was smiling, showing a dazzling mouthful of shiny, white teeth - perfect snow-capped fakes - but it was the genuineness of the smile that intrigued Jake. She seemed to be genuinely happy she was married to a man that old and not just because he was rich.

An outcry of boisterous laughter from the end of the hallway snapped Jake out of his trance. He walked down to the end of the hallway where it opened into a cavernous room.

"Excuse me," a voice said from behind.

A hurried masked waiter maneuvered his way around Jake. He was carrying a tray with glasses filled to the brim with champagne and Jake quickly grabbed a glass before the waiter could escape.

The party, inside the main ballroom - the place actually had a ballroom - was packed with party goers like the lobby of the Pittsburgh Metropolitan at intermission. Women in long gowns, Calvin Klein, Donna Karan, Gucci, or Victorian dresses; their hair either tied back or covered with large wigs. The men, all dressed in black tuxedos. Tuxedos they owned rather than rented like Jake's.

The waiters carried silver trays of champagne and caviar as they darted through the crowd, the trays being emptied faster than the waiters could get them refilled. All the waiters, albeit simple black or white ones, had masks on.

As Jake made his way through the crowd he caught people looking at him. Men and women alike, staring at the mask and shaking their head in disbelief.

The party had a life of it's own like a flock of birds moving and flowing as one. Except Jake noticed he was the one lone bird who could not seem to join any of the flocks. Certainly there had to be a number of other first year lawyers - all in rented tuxedos of course, Brian included - roaming the party like himself, yet he seemed to be the only one alone.

At the far end of the ballroom there was a large staircase that led to an upper floor. Couples, hand in hand, walking up and down the steps. At the top of the staircase, near a small balcony overlooking the main ballroom, was a woman in a striking dark, gray gown and the very mask Jake had first noticed when he had visited the costume shop. It was the white mask with the plume of dark blue feathers. The woman caught his eye and raised her glass of champagne to him. Jake reciprocated and they each took a celebratory sip. Then the woman, as quickly as she had appeared, turned and disappeared down the upper floor hallway.

Well, Jake thought, hopefully that wasn't a prelude to the rest of the evening.

Jake turned to find somebody, anybody whom he might strike up a conversation. But, for whatever reasons, everyone seemed to be shying away from him, like he was the opposite side of a magnet.

Jake was handed another glass of champagne by a passing waiter. He downed it quickly. The effects going straight to his head. It had been how long since he had eaten? Early that morning? He couldn't remember and the expensive champagne was making that more difficult. A third flute of champagne appeared in his hand and the bubbling liquid danced in front of his eyes, the effects now hallucinogenic, as the bubbles looked like little mermaids swimming to the top of the flute and disappearing.

Jake shot down the flute of champagne and the mermaids and the whole room now danced like he was on a cruise ship in the middle of a typhoon. The masks before him taking on a life of their own. Each moving like they had become part of the owners face. A man in a red and white striped mask spoke to him, although Jake couldn't hear a word he was saying, the mask was moving with every silent word the man said. And then it finally sunk in just before Jake passed out. The man was asking him if he was okay.

Jake awoke in a large bedroom. He was laying on a small four poster bed and it seemed odd that such a small bed was in such a large room. There was a door directly in front of him and a fireplace to his right, illuminating the room in it's amber glow. That was as much as he could see.

It took Jake a few minutes to get his bearings, the effects of the champagne still clouding his thoughts. He was on his stomach, laying across the width of the bed, his legs bent over the edge and his head hanging over the opposite side. He must have came into the room and just plopped himself down on the nearest bed. It was uncomfortable and as Jake turned to get more comfortable, to roll over on his back, he couldn't move, his hands were tied.

They were tied to the two far posts of the bed. Tied with a thick, silk rope that, although tied tightly, were not in the least bit uncomfortable. Jake gave each arm a jerk, the muscles in his strong shoulders flexing, but the knots had been tied in such a way that any struggle would only strengthen their hold. And when he looked down the length of his right arm he noticed it was sans the sleeve from his tuxedo. In fact it was sans anything except his bare flesh. It was then that he felt the familiar airy chill of being entirely naked.

How had that happened? He hadn't or couldn't have possibly been out that long, could he? But it had obviously been enough time for some prankster to undress and tie him to this bed. And who might that prankster be? Brian? That son of a bitch had kept himself hidden for a reason and the reason had been this childish prank.

"Brian," Jake shouted. "This was funny five minutes ago." No answer. "Brian," Jake said a little louder. Still no answer and Jake thought better of yelling again in case someone else heard him, came running and found him in this compromising position. Quite possibly Mr. Grimm. Maybe he could free himself. Except his legs were tied at the knees to the bottoms of the bed posts. He was completely immobile...and vulnerable.

This wasn't funny - if it ever was - any longer. Whoever decided to play this practical joke had gone too far. Way too far. Christ, what if somebody walked in and found him in this degrading position? At least they had the courtesy - if you could call it that - to leave his mask on.

"Dammit, Brian," Jake seethed. And no sooner had he said it when the door directly in front of him - Jake thought it was a closet - started to creak open.

Jake strained his neck up to get a better look. The door opened and out stepped the woman he had seen at the top of the stairs. The one in the gray gown and feathered mask.

Jake was speechless. He felt utterly and completely exposed. This was the worst possible scenario he could have imagined and now it was happening, playing out before him. What was she thinking? He had the only mask of this kind in the whole ballroom. There had been plenty of repeats and similarities but none were remotely similar to his black steel Chameleon mask and no mistaking she knew. She had looked at him from the balcony nodded and tipped her flute of champagne to him. And wasn't that some kind of unspoken invitation? But what could she be thinking now? Maybe he was some kind of freak or, worse yet, some kind of...homosexual.

The woman in the gray gown closed the door and moved closer to Jake, looking at him in a very approving manner. He could see her eyes taking a walk all over his exposed body.

"Nice," she said seductively. "Very nice."

She walked behind Jake. The time, now standing still, bled into him like an IV drippings in shame and degradation. The humiliation was complete and whoever had decided to play this cruel joke - Jake no longer blamed Brian - had obviously planned this out in infinite detail. Any moment a host of party goers would come crashing in and pictures would flash and fingers would point and Jake would be the laughing stock come Monday morning.

But the doors didn't come crashing open and the party going on downstairs, the muted sounds filtering into the bedroom, stayed downstairs.

Where had the woman in the gown gone? He didn't hear her leave. Maybe she snuck out a door behind him. But his questions were answered when he felt her smooth hands on his ass. Those smooth hands caressing his ass, working their way to the outside edge towards his hips and then moving back in towards the cleft. Her fingers brushing the anus and then sliding down to cup his balls. Jake, unable to control himself, became as hard as the black steel mask he wore.

The woman in the gown placed her hands on the sides of Jake's ass and then he felt her warm, bare breasts pressed against him, her hot breath on his lower back. He heard her moan in a low, soft whisper and then begin to move slowly towards his anus, her tongue sliding in between the slit of his ass and Jake, never having experienced having his anus licked, began to squirm, the woman in the gown mistaking it for desire. Her hands applied more pressure holding his hips in place as her tongue slowly flicked over the opening and Jake fell victim to the velvety sensation. Her tongue moved down from his anus to his balls and back up again. Long, slow strokes back and forth like she was licking ice cream melting down a cone and enjoying every drop.

Just when Jake felt he could take no more, on the verge of spraying the bed like a high pressure hose cut in two, the woman in the gown stopped.

She moved away and Jake remained absolutely still trying to hear what was coming next. His eyes darted back and forth like another set of ears. They came to abrupt stop when the woman in the gown, now completely naked, stepped in front of him. Jake was face to face with her - Jake could only assume she had been professionally waxed because there was not a hint of hair - bald pussy, the musky, sweet odor filling his nostrils. He felt her hand on the back of his head as she pulled his head towards her and moved in closer.

Jake had never felt a pussy so smooth. Not that he had a lot to compare to - not enough to count on two hands - but the few he had never felt this smooth. It was like licking a polished apple. Her clit was swollen and sticking out like a little red tongue. Jake flicked over the little tongue and the woman in the gown moaned loudly and pushed his face in further, the mask pressing against his skull. It actually hurt, but the pleasure he was deriving from licking this pussy, sent from Eros above, made the pain pleasurable. The combination of the two surprising him, and he found himself pushing in further, the mask digging into his cheekbones and the woman moaning louder and Jake becoming lost in the labyrinth of pleasure and pain. He tried, in vain, to pull his hands free in order to wrap them around the woman's ass and pull her in even further, burying his face in so far he wouldn't be able to breath. But the knots - surely professionally tied - would not give a millimeter. The harder he pulled the tighter they became and the tighter they became the harder he pulled. That masochistic part of him he never knew existed taking over and feeding his brain with this oil and water mixture of pleasure and pain.

The woman was grinding her pussy into Jake's face and her heated movements made Jake lick faster and deeper. His tongue and jaw muscles on fire with overuse, yet Jake kept going sensing the woman was on the verge of having an orgasm. He had to stop a moment and take a breath before he passed out. Sucking in air through his mouth because his nose was mashed against her lower stomach. As soon as he stopped - it was a fraction of a second, maybe - the woman groaned in disappointment. Jake, not wanting to spoil the moment, or, for God's sake, have it stop completely, took only a half a gulp of air before he busied his tongue again.

The woman positioned her left hand and pulled her lips apart near her clit. Jake felt the entire bud exposed on his tongue. He pressed down and moved his tongue back and forth over her clit until the woman shuddered and relaxed, shuddered and relaxed. Jake kept his face close to her pussy, basking in it's post-orgasmic swell, the lips still pulsating like a heart beating right behind her pelvic bone. And Jake, in some kind of sexual nirvana, inhaled her sex like a fine wine. Each breath intoxicating.

The woman ran her fingers through his hair, caressing his head and that was when Jake was jerked out of his Tibetian-like contentment, like a lobster thrown into boiling water. There was another pair of hands on his ass.

It was a shock of the likes Jake had never experienced before - and law students had experienced every kind of shock imaginable. "Separate yourself", the professors constantly reminded them. But this was not the kind of shock he had been prepared for. Not even in law school.

Jake's eyes darted around again but that polished apple pussy was all he could see. The blood red labia staring him right back in the face, glistening with come and saliva, the smell of sex still strong. He was left to his other senses to figure out what was happening.

The hands, not as tender as the woman's, pulled his cheeks open and the warm air flowed over his already sensitive anus. A finger (Oh, Christ!), with some kind of warm lubricant, probed the opening like he was getting a proctology exam. But unlike a proctology exam, the finger, without warning - "This is as uncomfortable for me, Mr. Wilson, as it is for you." - slipped into the opening.

Jake let out an audible sigh of pleasure as the finger moved in and out. A sigh that took him by surprise, like the time he was talked into trying Sushi for the first time and was as sure as Japanese Yen he wasn't going to like it, only come to find he had loved it. Loved it so much he had stared to eat it three or four times a week and still did.

But trying Sushi for the first time and having some stranger, some stranger at a party with all his co-workers and colleagues attending, shove a finger up his ass, and to top it off moaning with pleasure while they did it was...was crazy.

Jake let out another unconscious moan as the finger moved in a circular motion over his prostate. He felt like he had come without actually coming.

"I think he's ready," the woman said.

Ready for what?

The finger was removed and Jake had the intense desire to stick his tongue out and start licking the woman's pussy again. As if she knew what he was thinking she had turned her back to him and bent over exposing her own anus to his tongue. Never in his life had Jake Wilson ever come close to sticking his tongue on someone's anus yet now, it was obvious, he was expected to do just that. And he did. Without reservation he stuck his tongue out and licked the woman's ass. The feeling was like running his tongue over the inside of his own puckered lips. Jake got his tongue good and lubricated with his own spit and licked the ass hole again, this time running his tongue around the hole in a circular motion. The woman moaned and arched her back. She spread her legs and reached up with one hand and inserted two fingers in her pussy. She simultaneously pushed the two fingers deep inside and then pulled them out for Jake to suck. This went on, back and forth, for several minutes, the woman on the verge of coming again. Her fingers flying in and out at frenzied pace while Jake kept up his tongue work on her ass. The woman came again in her now classic shudder and relax, shudder and relax.

Jake, his tongue a numb slab of meat, rested his cheek on the woman's warm ass, ready at a moments notice to start again. But the person who had been behind him, the one who had stuck the finger in his ass, was back.

Jake felt the familiar, yet totally unfamiliar velvet head of what must have been a very, very expensive dildo. Not that he had much experience with dildos. Christ, he thought, the fucking thing felt almost real. Almost. Did they feel that real? Then there was that same warm lubricant being rubbed on his ass. The head of the velvety, fake penis was being maneuvered up and down trying to find the opening. A finger was one thing, Jake thought, but a dildo - one that felt like the real thing - that might hurt.

The woman, as if on cue, turned and lowered her breasts to Jake's waiting mouth. Jake's tongue instinctively flicked out. No matter how numb his tongue was, and it was numb, he wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to taste her nipples. Jake licked the nipples, sucked them into his mouth and circled the aureoles. The woman cupped her breasts and alternately feed him each one.

Without realizing what he had done Jake had lifted his ass slightly giving whomever was behind him better access to insert the costly dildo. The tip of the dildo slowly started to slid in and Jake tried to relax. The head of the dildo slid in easily and Jake took a deep breath as his tongue slid over the erect nipple in his mouth.

The woman took Jake's head in her hands and guided his mouth to her own. Her tongue, as velvety as the fake penis, slipped into his mouth. It was a passionate kiss, the woman pulling Jake's face tightly against her own, their masks grinding together. Her tongue shot back deep into his mouth like she was trying to stick it down his throat.