Masquerade Pt. 02

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The anticipation continues...
1.6k words
4.54
10.8k
3
2

Part 2 of the 3 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 09/13/2014
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I arrive at work the next day, late as usual, but it is what it is. Rushing once again to my office, I find a beautifully wrapped box on my desk. I set my things down and go to the present. The paper is a gorgeous shade of green - deep emerald - with silver swirls all over it. The package is tied with silver and black ribbon. It looks almost too pretty to open, and I'm excited to find out who sent it. I look for a card, but there isn't one on the present. I check around and under the desk, the floor of my office and my keyboard tray, but there's no card or note. "That's strange," I think. Maybe the card's inside.

I gingerly untie the bow and slip my finger under the tape. I'm trying carefully not to rip the paper; it's just so beautiful. Normally, I dive into presents with gusto, ripping off the paper like it's a spectator sport, but this is just so exquisite; I don't want to ruin it. The paper is thick, glossy and very smooth. Once the paper is removed, I take the lid off the black box, move the tissue paper aside, and my eyes observe a glorious masquerade mask. It's almost identical to the one on the invitation I received yesterday - emerald green and black with swirls of ribbon cascading from each side, jewels and glitter on the face and a few green and black feathers on the top. It's unbelievably beautiful, and I've never seen anything quite like it.

I pick it up, and the back is lush velvet, so soft. It has a nice weight to it but not too heavy to be worn. It looks and feels expensive, and I wonder who would have sent such an extravagant gift. Again, I look for a card and see a sliver of white peeking out under the tissue paper. It's a small card, like the ones florists use, and has two words in an ornate black script: Wear This. Feeling a bit like Alice who's fallen down the rabbit hole and is being asked to eat this or drink this, I turn the card over looking for a signature or any indication of who sent it. There's nothing. "Curiouser and curiouser," I think. I pack up the mask, set the box aside and go about the rest of my busy day, only glancing occasionally at it out of the corner of my eye.

Wednesday morning I'm actually almost on time. I left the box with the mask in my office and have been worried about it since I got home last night. Fortunately, it's still sitting where I left it, but a ribbon has been tied around it, sealing the box. Hmmm...I wonder once again. I undo the belt on my coat, slip it off my shoulders and start to close my door to hang it on the back. There's garment bag hanging from the hook. "OK," I think. "This is getting ridiculous. What on Earth?" I take the bag down, lay it on my desk and unzip it. Not surprisingly, it's another gift, although this time, it's a beautiful ball gown, emerald green satin with a long slit up the right side, lined in black satin with black, jeweled accents on the waist. The bodice is ruched with sweetheart cups that will hug my breasts like they were custom made for them. The gown is incredibly beautiful, and I run my fingers over it. Also in the bag is a set of long, black opera gloves and another mysterious card stating Wear These. I want to try them on, but the outfit is not exactly work appropriate, so I wait until the end of the day and take the garment bag and the box with the mask home.

Thursday's gift is a black box, once again on my desk. I'm giddy with excitement as I enter my office and see it. I'd tried the dress on last night, and it fits perfectly, hugs my curves but is elegant and beautiful. I felt like a princess wearing it. My girlfriend, Tracy, stopped by as I was trying to zip up the back. I told her the story, and she was just as bewildered and incredulous as I am. She helped me into the dress and praised it with me. "What are you going to do?" she asked.

"I have no idea. I don't know who's sending me these gifts, but they obviously want me to attend this event Saturday night. I'm a little scared but flattered and definitely curious at the same time," I reply.

Ever the loyal friend, Tracy says, "Well, take your phone, and if it looks shady, text me. I'll come get you."

"Am I really going to do this?" I think. Then I look in the mirror, and I am in awe of the beauty of the gown and the elegance of the mask. I've always wanted to go to a masquerade ball, so how can I turn down this opportunity? Plus, I'm dying to know who my secret admirer is.

My thoughts are brought back to the box on my desk, and I excitedly remove the lid. I catch the first glimpse of red soles, and I squeal with delight. I've always wanted a pair of Louboutins, and a gorgeous pair of black stilettos with the red soles are singing to me from the box. "Oh my god," I think. "They're unbelievable." I slip off my work heels and slide the Louboutins onto my feet. My princess feeling is complete as I walk around my office in the incredible 5" heels. Once again, there's a tiny card in the box with just the words: Wear These.

Mark peaks his head in my door. "You ok?" he asks. "I heard you scream and wanted to make sure everything was all right." I can't wipe the huge smile off my face as I walk to the door and show him the shoes.

"Aren't they amazing?" I sigh. "I can't accept them, of course, but it's nice to dream."

"What do you mean?" he asks.

"Well, they arrived in this box. I have no idea who sent them, but it's been a really crazy week." I proceed to tell Mark about the invitation, mask and gifts.

He says, "You should be careful. Someone pouring this kind of extravagance on you is obviously interested, but if he won't reveal his identity, it could be dangerous. Are you really thinking of going to this thing? I've never heard of that Bacchus Brotherhood or whatever you called it. I think you should just leave a note on your desk tonight for this mystery man letting him know you're not interested."

"You're probably right," I muse.

"But, you're going to go anyway, aren't you?" Mark replies. "You and your damn inquisitive nature. It's going to get you into trouble one of these days." I grin impishly at him. He does know me well.

Friday morning I'm actually early to work. I've shocked myself, and the security guard in the lobby does a double take as I glide leisurely into the elevator. I wink at him just before the door closes. I walk quickly to my office, but there's nothing on the desk. I take my coat off and close the door, but there's nothing hanging from the hook on the back. I check on my keyboard tray, under my desk, but alas, nothing. I'm a bit disappointed, but perhaps I have everything I need for the event.

My office has this annoying habit of holding a potluck lunch on the fourth Friday of the month. Not being particularly domestic, I usually bring a veggie tray or hummus with pita chips. As I unwrap the veggie tray and the ranch dressing, Steve and Jason walk over. "So," Jason says. "We hear you have a secret admirer." I roll my eyes and vow to kill Mark. The downside about working with a mostly male team is that anytime several men get together, they immediately revert to 13-year-old boys causing most females to run in the opposite direction. I am not like most females and have always gotten along better with guys. I can take the ribbing and teasing and can dish it out just as well, plus most of the time they just amuse me with their antics.

"Mark told you, huh?" I ask.

"Well, it may have come up during last night's game." Steve replies.

"It's not that big of a deal." I say. "Besides, I'll know tomorrow night and can give Mark the juicy details on Monday for him to run and gossip with his girlfriends."

"Somebody's pissy today," Jason remarks.

I sigh. "No, really, it's fine. I'm just surprised he'd mention it. That's all."

"Well," Steve says, "For the record, I agree with Mark. Be careful. You don't know who this guy could be or what you're getting yourself into."

I smile and say, "I know guys. Thanks." My mobile phone buzzes again. I look down, and it's a text from Paul, but I ignore it and prepare to "enjoy" the potluck.

When I get back to my desk after lunch there's an envelope on it with the same elegant writing I've seen several times this week. I open the envelope and pull out the card. It reads: If you decide to attend the masquerade ball tomorrow night, wear what you've been given and meet a car and driver outside your townhouse at 5:30 p.m. sharp. He will bring you to the ball. Don't forget your invitation or the mask. We look forward to seeing you. It's stamped with the seal I saw previously on the invitation and has the name International Bacchus Brotherhood at the top of the card.

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  • COMMENTS
2 Comments
livelaughlovedream3livelaughlovedream3over 9 years agoAuthor
This is a story in three parts.

This is a three-part story. Part III is still pending, but here are the links.

www.literotica.com/s/masquerade-pt-01

www.literotica.com/s/masquerade-pt-03

AnonymousAnonymousover 9 years ago

Too slow!

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