Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. ï>¿Stephanie Unmasked by William_Wood A prudish girl tries something new before a masquerade ball. Stephanie Unmasked Pt. 01 "Stagnant Stephanie". That's what her few friends called her, a name she earned by going through her early years of adult life focused on work - not relationships. Her friends invited her out to dinner and to the occasional party (which was becoming much less frequent now that she was 22), and sure, she went. She would arrive 20 minutes early, drink next to nothing, and be the first to leave. Before things got even a little bit messy. Stephanie Vice worked hard, and was proud of her achievements and her 'sensible' outlook on life. But to others she came across as pretentious. Was she somehow above having fun? And was any man good enough to draw her attention? Men did find her intimidating, or at least unapproachable. She had a tendency to, (in her nervousness, the truth be known), promptly dismiss any and all would-be suitors. They did try, of course. Stephanie was quite beautiful, if you looked past the plain t-shirts and jeans, her no-nonsense hair style, and understated makeup. She was fit; she ate healthily, and backed that up by hitting the gym four mornings a week with her best friend Bella. A girl didn't need to be actively interested in men to look after herself! Steph was of average height and slim build, with curves that were modest but suitably feminine. As for the important parts according to male interest: tushy on the small side, but nicely rounded and tight, and a respectable C-cup bust. Her facial features were a fair reflection of the elegance in which she lived her life. You looked into Stephanie's deep green eyes, and you saw her pride and her independence. Straight up, what-you-see-is-what-you-get, without an ounce of fakery. She kept her mousey brown hair long, but always tied back in a simple ponytail. Work life was of the legal flavour, a clerk at Masterson and Croft - a medium sized firm in her city. It was a position that required a degree, but she had a ways to go before she could make it as an associate lawyer, and, in a typically unjust system, she worked more than most of the lawyers, understood the cases just as well, but took home less than half the pay. She deserved better, and she would let nothing jeopardise her in getting there. And so Stephanie pushed on, day in, day out, collecting her respectable-ish paycheck, paying her rent as the sole occupant of the small duplex she leased, and managing to stash a respectable chunk into savings. She got up at a sparrow's fart most days to sweat it out at the gym, followed that up with work hours that exceeded the full-time schedule she was paid for, and turned in to bed early so that she might have the energy to do it all over again tomorrow. It was a lifestyle that was busy enough to allow her to overlook her loneliness. But she was stagnating. Stagnant Stephanie. She hated the nickname, all the more-so because she knew it was true. After all, it was ultimately out of love that her friends bestowed her the title. One morning, a girl from the front desk, Lily, extended her an invite to an event that one might have considered as unlikely to appeal to Stephanie as any. A masquerade ball, of all things. It seemed that the founding partner of the firm, Jerome Masterson, was a major benefactor of some charity, and was extending the invitation to the few single girls in their office. Steph scrunched up her nose at a bad feeling. Only the single girls? Your boss is looking for escorts. "I know what you're thinking," Lily predicted. "But I don't think it's anything like that. He just wants the event to be glammed up a little more. A few extra girls in frocks. And ones who aren't going to answer every question with 'Oh! I have a boyfriend!' I'm gonna go, I mean, a masquerade? In the 21st century, it feels like a once in a lifetime chance. Come on Steph - I need a wingman!" That did sound about plausible enough. Jerome Masterson was an enigma, and only staff who had been there several years had even met him. He too, had a nickname around the office, and it was well earned. 'Mysterious Leader'. It was rumoured that their General Manager was the only person who actually spoke to him with regularity. These days, he seemed to be more like a majority stakeholder than an active CEO. Though, Steph knew for a fact that he still worked the occasional particularly difficult case remotely. A little while ago, she had handled a request from him involving some research for legal precedents in a niche problem under imports. It sounds boring, yes, but such was the work life of Stagnant Stephanie, and to be assigned a task from the big man himself had been her idea of an exciting week. "I don't know... and it's in another city. We are going to have to catch a plane? I don't think I could even get leave approved at such short notice." "Oh, don't be ridiculous, Stagnant Stephanie! It's only a few hours away and our Mysterious Leader is putting up the flights and a hotel room just for us girls. You'll be back home before the weekend's done and still have time to do your laundry! Please, Steph, I really want to go - but not on my own." Having her arm twisted like this was often enough to make Stephanie cave. "Alright alright. I'll go! Jeez." Steph rather enjoyed Lily. Her mother's family had immigrated from China a full generation ago, and, as was often the case when you mixed asian genes with a different race, Lily had been blessed with beauty that turned heads. But what Steph liked about her was the fun, lively girl who could always make her day with one of her stories. By her own accounts, Lily hit the town pretty hard on Friday or Saturday nights. That was never Stephanie's scene, but the way Lily spoke of her exploits (and yes, often this included sexual encounters), Stephanie couldn't deny that she was always intrigued. Such a life was not meant for her, but, as with her best friend Bella, she got a little thrill out of living through her friend's stories. Lily seemed outwardly surprised and delighted that Steph agreed to the invitation. She must have understood that the dedicated clerk would be stepping way out of her comfort zone for something as formal and intimidating as a masquerade ball. Who even did those anymore? But, that was just the thing. This would not be anything like the nasty frat parties she used to get roped into, with the excessive drinking and shameful, meaningless hookups. This was a masquerade ball, and, while a rare opportunity, it was also just the kind of high-class event that had the potential to make Stephanie Vice pull out all the stops. People were unlikely to throw up in the pot plants way through the night, or swim naked in a decorative fountain. "You know you'll need a formal dress, right?" Lily asked tentatively. Was she trying to scare her off? But it was also a fair comment, and a necessary consideration. About the most glammed up Stephanie ever got was for work, whereby she did actually present very well in a plain blouse and long black skirt or pants. "Don't worry, I can scrub up nicely enough. In fact, you're never going to call me 'stagnant' again after this!" Lily's face lit up. "Wow, I don't know who you are or what you did with my work buddy, but I like you. After this, you can be the one telling the crazy story at the Monday lunch break. Deal?" "Oh, umm... I don't know if I should go that far! I just meant that I will at least have something to wear." Steph already knew which dress she would choose. Her long, violet silk gown from prom night. It had only been worn on that one occasion when she was 18, but four years later she was confident it would still fit right. Yes, there were some dividends to her hard working lifestyle. People close to her admired her efforts to stay in such great shape, but the question would always come up - 'so when is someone going to see this body you put so much effort into?' Another girl, Anne from accounts, also accepted the invitation. Steph didn't know Anne nearly as well as she did Lily, but she was a little more comfortable knowing that three of them would be going. Nearly two weeks later, Steph got a call from Lily to join her at the front desk. When she got there, Anne was already present too. On top of the bench was a package. It was addressed to, 'the three ladies in waiting", and was signed, (something that could have been) Jerome Masterson. Stephanie found her stomach turning in knots. Since accepting the invitation, she had been trying not to think about the upcoming ball. It was fair to say, she had only agreed to it on an absolute whim. It was almost as if she had said 'no' so many times, that a 'yes' was just an eventual, statistical certainty. A random spin of the wheel that finally landed on the space everyone had been waiting for. In quiet moments, Stephanie felt a naggy tugging at her soul, an abstract idea that she desired something more out of life. Not the silly sex and alcohol fuelled social lives of some of her acquaintences, but... something. Of course there would be alcohol at this ball, but the premise was different. And what could be sexier than everybody checking out everybody dressed to impress... all the while hiding their wandering eyes behind a mask? Still, when she considered the revealing neckline on the dress she had planned, the idea that men might be able to hide where their eyes went even as they spoke to her face to face... it was potentially, in the worst case, a creep-fest. She had given Lily her verbal agreement, and she had the dress in mind, but she maintained her typical list of reservations. Basically, she was carefully reserving her right to pike. In any case, she had thus far considered the event a rather distant concern; not something she need actually worry about. At least not yet. But that was to change right now. Today, their Mysterious Leader had sent them a mysterious package, and from the note, they knew it was related to the upcoming ball. The knots in Steph's tummy gave way to busy butterflies as her anticipation mounted. But Anne rolled her eyes. "I didn't realise he was this lame," she said. Steph didn't find the quip about 'ladies in waiting' particularly funny either, but felt that Anne should show more respect. The note did it's job though - she was about ready to rip the package open like a child on Christmas morning. In Steph's opinion, Anne was unfortunately as dull as the stereotype of her accounting role. Steph didn't think of herself as dull, and she resented being called stagnant. She just tried to be professional at work, and didn't dress like a whore. And she harboured the belief deep down that the right guy would recognise her quality when he came along. Suddenly, she wondered if Anne also had another side to her; why exactly was she going to this ball? "Well, let's have a look!" Lily made no effort to hide her own excitement as she broke the seal on the postage satchel. Inside was a solid cardboard box, and when she lifted the lid, all three girls gasped in unison. Nestled in a bed of velvet over a foam insert, were three beautiful, expensive looking masks. Masquerade masks. They had jewel-like surfaces; polished enamel, in deep, brilliant colours. Red, green and blue, and they shone like ruby, emerald and sapphire respectively. But their beauty had a frightening element, as each mask featured menacing looking, long, beaked noses. All were slightly different; hand made, most certainly. This shit just got real. The three young women gawked at the exquisite items for a moment, before Lily reached straight for the red one. "Sorry girls, but can I take this one? I was already planning on a red dress." "Go for it," Anne said. "I don't even know what I'm wearing yet. You pick yours, Stephanie, I don't really care." Steph likewise wasn't that concerned with which colour she got. She would have accepted any of the masks as a beautiful, generous gift. But in consideration of her purple dress, she thought she would prefer to accessorise with green over blue. And besides, the green looked particularly stunning, and she thought it might also bring out the colour of her eyes. Steph reached out and took the chosen mask carefully. It was lighter than it looked, and had a thin leather strap for attaching behind the head. These were not those disposable, cardboard masks that people had to hold up to their faces on sticks all night, or rather, for the first 20 minutes until the novelty wore thin. "Figures," Anne said with a huff, and snatched the remaining blue mask before walking off. Jeez, if she had wanted the green, she could have just said so. Steph thought of swapping with her, but hesitated. Why should she reward such childish behaviour? And she realised that though she had only held her gorgeous new accessory for moments, she was already rather attached. A few weeks passed, and it was to be a regular Friday morning in the office. The ball was to take place the following night, and all the appropriate reservations had been finalised by Lily. Since accepting the mask, Stephanie's attendance had been cemented as an affirmative. Naturally, she remained apprehensive about the whole thing, but she also harboured a desperate curiosity to see it through. She had spent a few minutes each day holding that mask, feeling the smooth, enamel coated moulding, and trying it on in the mirror. She really, really liked this trinket. Her precious gift from their Mysterious Leader. Wearing this, and looking fabulously daring... what kind of people would she meet? The ball was intended to raise money for charity, and so she imagined the men would be the respectable, quality sort. And, she wondered at the apparent likelihood that Jerome Masterson would be there in the flesh. Her heartbeat quickened each time she went there, though she didn't allow herself to dally on any particularly silly thoughts. Sexual arousal was hardly an uncommon occurrence for Stephanie, it just wasn't an urge that she believed needed to be scratched at this point in her life. Never mind that she was still a virgin; the girl had never had a boyfriend, and didn't even masturbate. And when Bella had given her a huge, fancy vibrator for her 21st birthday, she had gone 12 shades of crimson and hidden it so deep in old junk that she would never be able to find it today. Even if an advanced alien race appeared, and declared that her great big pink dong was somehow needed to save their distant galaxy from ruin, still she would not dare to try and exhume it from the forgotten depths of the junk tub. "Earth to Stephanie, hullo?" She finally snapped to attention. There was Lily, standing before her workstation. "What can I do for you?" She tried to sound professional, as if she hadn't just been daydreaming on the job. Lily rolled her eyes in a fashion that anybody would find irritating, but did not press her for her thoughts. "Grab your purse, and let's go. We're going on an excursion this morning." "What are you talking about? We don't have 'excursions' here. I've got mountains of research to do for the Baker case, due tonight-" Lily cut her off. "You'll be fine, come on. This is all approved, so just relax. The Barka case will be just fine until you get back, I promise." Stephanie wrinkled her nose. "Baker case." "It's like, a Japanese joke." "I thought you were Chinese?" "I'm an American. But I watch anime." Stephanie didn't get it, but suddenly she realised that her handbag was over her shoulder, and she was standing. "Ok, but we have to be quick, yes?" "You'll be back in time for your next coffee, Stagnant Stephanie. Relax!" A short stroll down the street later, and Lily was ushering her into a beauty salon. One of those Chinese-run ones that she assumed were cheap and busy. "I might have known," Stephanie sighed. "Of course an excursion with you wouldn't be work related." "Oh, but it is. The ball is tomorrow, and Mysterious Leader has us representing his company. This here, my young padawan is official work business." "Right. I suppose our employer is going to pay for your manicure, then?" "Damn right! And... the rest." "Then, how come Anne isn't here? I bet she told you how busy she was. Like I should have. Like I did!" Lily winced. "Anne? Fuck that bitch. Hundred bucks says she doesn't get on the plane tomorrow anyways." Stephanie tried to repress a smile, failed, and scolded herself. Anne was certainly a tense girl, and hard to like. But so long as she would be with them on tomorrow's adventure, she couldn't agree with Lily for excluding her. "Yes, I help you?" They were at the front desk in the salon now, and one of the technicians hovered over to them. "Yes," Lily declared. "Masterson and Croft, we have an appointment." "Ah, mmm. Yes, two person for Essentials Express. We are waiting for you." "Express... does that mean it won't take too long?" Stephanie enquired. The woman was very short with her English, so she tried to keep it simple. She was going to be well outside of her comfort zone in this place, so she wanted to make it clear from the start that she wanted this done as quick as possible. "Mmmm, about two hour? Is manicure, pedicure, leg wax, brazilian-" Lily cleared her throat, and then began saying something in Mandarin. The technician replied in kind, and then the two were conversing rapidly, and Stephanie felt stupid. Especially since she could read body language well enough to understand that she was the main subject of their private conversation. Lily gestured at her a couple of times, and just when Stephanie wondered if they were in an argument, the technician smiled broadly in her direction. And then, as quickly as it had begun, they were finished. "Come through please," the woman encouraged them both. "I understand you very busy today. We do our best, ok?" They followed her around the corner, and into a medium sized room where a couple more technicians were busy preparing things, with several leather recliners that made Stephanie imagine they had just signed up for a medieval interrogation. "Believe it or not, this won't be the first time I've had my legs waxed," she said to Lily. Actually, it would be her second. The only other time had been for her high school prom, when she was 18. The way she remembered it, the pain had been a bit overrated, though she had harboured no desire to go back to a place like this. "But I haven't used brazilian wax before. Wouldn't they all be made of the same thing?" Lily giggled, and patted her on the shoulder. "Sure hun, I'm sure they're all... 'made of the same thing'." *Deee-deep, be-deep, ba-dee-ba-deep! Deee-deep, be-deep, ba-dee-ba-deep!* Stephanie opened her eyes a slither, and turned off her obnoxious phone alarm as fast as she could manage with fingers that weren't quite working yet. It was Saturday morning, and she had things to do. Her flight wasn't until lunch time, but she always made sure to get up early when something important was happening. She threw on some clothes as a first order of business. She made a point not to look at her pubic area as she pushed down her pajama bottoms, and pulled on a fresh pair of knickers. She still couldn't believe she had let them do that. She hated having to take her clothes off for anyone, and she could count on one hand the times she had needed to do so since she was old enough to care. Certainly she had never before bared all for the sake of something so unnecessary. And yet, between Lily's teasing, and the technician's eagerness to get her work done quickly, she had somehow conceded to it. Memory of her embarrassment - which was about twice as bad as the actual pain (and that was saying something) - threatened to drive her back into bed. But she remained strong, for now. Don't look at it. Aside from how strange it felt to be hairless down there, she had noticed a bunch of awful red bumps appear soon after they were done. Figuring she must have been allergic to the wax, Stephanie had one more reason to regret allowing the treatment. But, she had things to do, so she wouldn't look at it, or let it dwell in her thoughts. She would forget the mess she had made on her legs when she had needed to use the bathroom at work later yesterday. She would ignore all the extra sensation on her vulva, sensation that made something even as mundane as pulling on a pair of cotton panties an embarassing, ticklish experience. She fixed herself some muesli and a coffee, and put on some trashy Netflix. What was important was that she was up. There would be plenty of time to get ready and pack her bag, that she didn't need to start right this moment. A couple of episodes later, she heard her phone beep. "I don't suppose that can be good," she presumed as she returned to the kitchen for her phone. The message was from Lily. "Really sorry, my mum has just been rushed to hospital-" blah blah blah. She should have known Lily would be unreliable. She was certainly good value company, but it was somewhat unsurprising that she would turn out to be the flakey sort. She probably just got her period, or woke up on this Saturday morning, naked, in a strange and beautiful apartment in the arms of a strange and beautiful man. Stephanie hadn't even bothered getting Anne's contact number, but she didn't really care now. With Lily dropping out, she felt like she couldn't bring herself to go. She felt oddly torn somewhere between disappointed and relieved, and ultimately decided that another quiet weekend with her local food market and keeping on top of the laundry sounded great after all. Best of all, she could now upgrade her Netflix session into a full-on binge without a hint of stress. She replied to Lily that everything was fine. Then she texted her best friend Bella, to cancel the planned lift to the airport. A couple of hours later found Stephanie lying on her couch again, catching up on a drama that was decent at best. An enjoyable waste of time. A load of laundry was already on the line, and the dishwasher was doing it's thing. It was a typical Saturday, and in her mind she had rationalised that she was perfectly happy with how things had worked out. *Bing, Bong!* Steph jumped a little, as she always did when someone unexpected showed up at her door. Who could that be? Hopefully just someone collecting for charity. Charity? Damn, a sudden pang of guilt... she got to the door - it was Bella! Steph hesitated and bit her lip - had Bella not got her message? More guilt. She definitely should have called - not texted. Now her friend had just wasted a trip. She would have to at least entertain her with lunch and a few episodes of whatever she wanted. Steph opened the door, and a grinning Bella burst into the room, looking as energetic as ever. Isabella and Stephanie had been best friends since meeting as college sophomores, and they had managed to develop a fitness regime together, and kept each other motivated to stay in top shape. Bella was shorter than Steph, with dark looks and long, straight black hair. She also had twice the curves, with boobs and bum galore that drew a lot of stares at the gym. Stares that she encouraged with her fashionable roster of low cut singlets and ultra tight, scrunch-bum pants. What Steph didn't realise though, was that plenty of those stares went her way too. Her lighter, more balanced build appealed to more men than she would have ever guessed. Many would even prefer her more modest, but perfectly rounded C cup bosoms over Bella's great big ones. Stephanie never showed any cleavage, or God forbid, side boob, but she underestimated the knack men had for picking out the things they liked. Of course, if she were to have gone to the ball tonight, she would have been showing off both in that jaw dropping dress she had hidden away. "I'm so sorry babe!" Steph began apologising earnestly. "I sent you a message this morning, but Lily pulled out and I'm not going anywhere now." Bella grinned her usual mischievous grin that usually preceded talking Steph into doing something she didn't want to do. "I got your message, and I laughed. I said, 'what a surprise, Steph's piking!' And then I deleted it. Guess what, babe, you are going! I'm going to make you!" "Hmmm, no, not this time. I've decided. You can't always make me change my mind, and we aren't in college anymore." "Oh, college shmollege. Nothing ever changes. Which is why I knew that you needed me to make you get on that plane. I could tell you were excited about going - and God knows I'm jealous. So I'm not letting you pass this one by. Come on, let's go pack your things real quick. We don't have much time." Stephanie was about to protest further, but her friend had already skipped off towards her bedroom. She was never able to win a dispute with Bella, and usually it turned out for the best. Bella 'made' her do things sometimes, and the end result was admittedly having at least a little fun together. If only Bella could come with me instead! By the time Steph had got a hold of herself and thought of what she would say to make her desist (if just this once?) Bella already had her little overnight travel trunk out on top of the bed. Presently she emerged from the ensuite, and bumped past Steph with hands full with the humble contents of her makeup drawer. She dumped them into the open suitcase, which would pass for hand luggage at the airport. "Slow down, Bella, I was about to say-" "Oh save it for next week and pack something. You already know I'm going to win this. If you really don't want to go, you'll find a way to miss your flight and get a taxi home. But right now we are going to pack you up and get you on your way." Steph's protests choked up in her throat. She knew Bella was right. Even though she was certain she didn't want to go if it meant just her and bloody boring Anne, there was no use in pretending that she could change Bella's mind. So she sighed heavily, and thought about what she needed. The dress and mask were the main things, of course. And stilettos (she was no stranger to high heels, often wearing them for work. You might say that Stephanie Vice was a complex individual, and somewhat selective in her prudish ways). She had also planned on wearing the same hairpiece that had survived from prom night - a silver tiara. She was going to want her comfy flannelette pajamas, a change of clothes for tomorrow, and obviously a couple of sets of underwear and socks. So she set to work, quickly acquiring the clothing she needed, and throwing it on the bed while Bella folded them into her suitcase. "So you have a dress then, I'm assuming? Though I don't remember you inviting me out dress shopping." "Actually, I'm just going to wear my prom dress. It's a similar enough event and I'm not going to be one of those idiots that have a menagerie of dresses they've only worn once." "Oh cool, but Steph, ummm... that was a few years ago, is it still ok?" "Yes! I checked it for moths and what not. It looks brand new! It's hot actually. Silk, if you can believe that. You would be surprised to see me in this!" And with that, she whipped the dress out of her wardrobe. It was in a protective bag, but the pale violet silk could be seen. It was a long gown, but thin and revealing. Bella's eyes went wide. "Oh, now I really am jealous. I've already moved my prom dress on. I didn't quite have these tits or ass back when I was 18! Oh, but babe..." Bella seemed to have thought of something important. "What knickers are you going to wear? You've only given me a few pairs of briefs so far, but-" "Don't get excited! Those are the only sort I have, and I'm not planning on letting anyone see them!" Isabella scrunched up her face, as if holding back on an unhelpful comment of some variety. If it was about underpants, Stephanie didn't need to hear it. The passing of a couple hours found Steph seated 35,000 feet in the air. It had been a close thing making her flight in the end, thanks to an accident on the highway causing a 30 minute delay. It had been just as well she didn't need to check in any luggage, and in the end she had made it at a run with her little travel trunk in one hand, and the other holding her long dress hanger over her shoulder. Before setting her down, Bella had been concerned for the time, muttering something about not having a chance to pop in at Victoria's Secret before the flight. But Steph was glad in a way. She was late, which, though not like her at all, had meant that she hadn't had excess time to sit around and maybe change her mind. She was doing this now, and she couldn't deny that she was excited. Of course she was nervous about going into a ball not knowing anybody - she wouldn't even recognise 'Mysterious Leader' if she saw him. Not that she would be comfortable tagging along with her boss! There was still Anne... apparently. She hadn't seen Anne on the plane, but then again, she had been in a mad rush to make the flight. But even if it was the worst case and she knew not a single soul at this party, Stephanie took some comfort in the fact that nobody who knew her would be seeing her so uncharacteristically glammed up. And she had the mask to hide how nervous she was sure to look. A few champagnes and I'll be fine. The thing was, the only other time she had worn the dress turned out to be an extensive exercise in embarrassment and discomfort. It showed the sides of her breasts which the salesperson had convinced her was 'suitably daring', but on the night just felt lewd. She had spent much of the evening with her arms folded across her chest, and throughout it all, nobody had actually made the effort to complement her. What was a girl to think? It was rather tragic really, that she had not been able to enjoy herself the one time she had put herself out there as a highly desirable, and very available young woman. Instead, Stagnant Stephanie had been born. Tonight would be different. She was 22 now, and though she wasn't in the habit of showing off much flesh in public, she did feel significantly more confident in her own skin. She just didn't know how to express it. So tonight was going to be something of an experiment for her. Could she really leave her established persona of Stagnant Stephanie behind at her home airport? Will she be able to sit confidently without trying to cover up the revealed skin on her chest? Will she actually dance this time? But more importantly... will she smile at the men, and welcome them to talk to her. Will she listen and respond, and let them make her laugh? Will she permit them a fair study of her neckline without calling them out as perverts? Oh, that's right. Masks. The Auream Grand served as both the venue for the ball, and her lavishly expensive accommodation. But she hadn't imagined beforehand just how expensive. The hotel entrance was old, classic, and - as in the name - grand. The staff treated her like royalty. It was weird for her, since Stephanie had no wealth, and wasn't accustomed to this much fussing. But she had to admit - the attention felt good, and she was beginning to get into the mood for a night at the high end of town. As predicted by Lily the day before, Anne was a no-show! Steph was going to have their room to herself. If she was being honest, she really wouldn't have cared for just Anne's company anyway. She was sure they would have made for an insufferable pair of downers. They would have needed the high energy and promiscuity of Lily to balance out the dynamics. Without her, going it solo was the next best thing. "Oh my Lord!" Steph exclaimed when the porter opened her room for her. It was exquisite, and enormous. It was overkill even for three people, but she had it to herself? A large common area with boutique style furniture connected to an enormous looking master suite, and another bedroom. It was without a doubt bigger than her whole house! The extravagance and luxury quickly had its effect on the single fortunate occupant. There was no work to do, she just had to relax and enjoy. As if to confirm this notion, a bottle of Moet sat in an ice bucket on the coffee table, along with three glasses. The porter took her bags all the way through to the master suite before Steph could protest that it probably wasn't for her, and was back in seconds. "Would there be anything else, Miss Vice?" "Ummm, no thank you. Thanks very much." Steph felt awkward without anything more gratifying to say, but she offered the man a tip of a few dollars, and he bowed and left silently. He was probably secretly disappointed - Steph couldn't even tip enough to look for a moment like she belonged in this suite. Alone, Stephanie looked at the bottle of Moet on the coffee table, and smiled to herself. "Well, when in Rome," she said out loud to all the fancy things that adorned her fancy living quarters. An hour later saw Step finishing off an amazing club sandwich with fries. She had received a call from room service, who insisted that lunch had been pre-authorised for her room. Even so, she gawked at the inflated prices, and allowed herself only to indulge in one of the cheapest items on the menu. It had still been delicious. Or maybe she just perceived it that way on account of the convenience factor, and her luxurious surroundings. It also wouldn't have been ridiculous to say that her good mood was influenced by no less than two and a half glasses of Moet. Stephanie was no stranger to alcohol, but she usually kept the count at one or two. She was presently wondering whether she should savour the dregs of her glass rather than draining it quickly and pouring a 4th. She knew she shouldn't, but if there's one thing that alcohol makes you want when it puts you in a good mood - it's more alcohol. Stephanie bit her lip. She was smarter than this. It would do no good to get drunk now, and then be a mess for the ball (or sleep through it entirely). Instead, she ran herself a hot bath. It was a wondrous thing in her opinion, the old cast iron sort - standalone, with clawed feet; a fitting fixture for the boutique style suite. After taking off her clothes in the bedroom to ensure they stayed dry, she returned to the ensuite, and finally permitted herself a moment for inspection. To assess the damage... down there. "Oh?" All the nasty red bumps were gone! Now she was just perfectly smooth; hair-free, and without a single blemish. Stephanie stared at herself in the mirror. Normally, she didn't look too closely at her own private areas, but with this outrageous new development, and nearly three champagnes down the hatch, she was making a small exception. She had never really noticed it before, but her mons pubis was quite well pronounced, and standing upright as she was, a pink hint of her lady parts were visible too. Stephanie looked up to her face, and saw that she was blushing. She blushed even harder, ran out the room to fetch the bottle after all, dimmed the light, and hopped into the hot bath. She hadn't brought any products in with her. Her only intention was to soak her stressed, hard worked body in that tub, and kill most of the time that remained before the ball. She finished her drink, and refilled it. "Just one more," she promised herself. She sipped on the expensive wine; the coolness was an enjoyable contrast to the hot water surrounding her. With her free hand she gently rubbed her body - a kind of half-assed attempt at actually washing herself. After caressing a breast in this way, she had to admit that she was mostly doing it for the simple pleasure of being touched. Her nipple felt more sensitive than usual. She looked down, and saw that the pink bud was all swollen. "But I guess I can't blame the cold," Stephanie muttered with a giggle, before her hand headed further south. She wasn't sure yet, but she was toying with the idea of exploring the newly excavated landscape down there. Stephanie generally kept her touching in and around that area to practical purposes, and if she found herself feeling a little amorous, and her hand naturally crept towards her sex, she would get embarassed, and force herself to stop. This afternoon might be different. She had nothing but time to kill, and lay under the spell of mild intoxication. She didn't have any sort of bathtub in her little duplex, let alone a nice big one like this. Certainly, taking a bath had never, ever, felt like this before. It was something of a shame that there were no witnesses, because Stephanie Vice cut quite the sensual figure, soaking nude in the luxurious tub, lights set to dim, her long hair out and hanging over the back. Her breasts were proudly on show, bobbing half beneath the waterline. She had a champagne flute in one hand, but the visual on her other arm became warped, for she reached deep beneath the surface. Her fingertips were on her belly, but she was slowly walking them further south. Yes, something was indeed changing in young Stephanie. A large part of it was surely the influence of her sexually active friends. Bella, the great show-off, and Lily from work with all her sleazy stories. For some time now, she vaguely understood that she was missing out on something important. She might never have admitted it, even to herself, but deep down - she knew. On some level she had already made the decision to flirt with her neglected sexuality tonight. Over the last few weeks, the anticipation for this masquerade ball had been building. Lily had dropped hints about how they were going to look 'just so hot'. The masks they had received had been beautiful gifts that compounded their excitement. And the idea that her face would be partly hidden went a long way towards convincing her to dust off the most glamorous and revealing item that hung at the end of her wardrobe. And now, since arriving at this over-the-top luxury hotel suite and being greeted by a bottle of expensive champagne, room service for lunch, and a few hours to kill with nothing to do but relax until it was time to get ready - Stephanie was drifting into a certain appropriate mood. No one could say whether the ball would be a hit or a miss, but the escape had already begun. The escape from her ordinary routine, and the escape from her own prudish mindset and self imposed limitations. She felt it. Tonight, she was not Stagnant Stephanie anymore. She didn't know what she was yet. Was 'Sexy Stephanie' too much of a stretch? She felt no shame, or guilt, as she finally permitted her fingers to assess the aftermath of the brazilian wax. She had sported quite the carpet of thick brown curls there, and couldn't remember what it felt like without them. Her natural bush had been keeping some of her woman's body secret, and touching herself there was very much a new sensation. All of a sudden, touching herself was fascinating. She reached further down still, and slid her hand down the inside of a thigh. Stephanie bit her lip, and pushed her knees outwards. Widely, for the tub easily accommodated it. She teased her repositioned thigh a little more, and traced a bikini line that, for the first time in years, she would be able to show off in a fashionable swimsuit. Well, it might still take some pestering from Bella to coax her to leave the house in one. But at the very least, it was nice to consider that she would finally meet the requirements to do so! She caressed her outer labia, which had also been rather hairy before. It was a soft thick pad, and touching there felt good. She had already known she was more sensitive since the wax, but until now, she had considered it a curse. At this moment, touching herself felt good. Possessing a bare vulva felt good. And, she also felt, dare she think it... a little... sexier. Perhaps she would be the one to surprise Bella next week by suggesting a trip to the beach? Her girlfriend had once confessed (to Stephanie's mortification) that she liked to sunbathe topless. She imagined Bella plonking herself down amongst other visitors at the most crowded patch of sand she could find. Probably right before a group of hunks passing a football around. The dark beauty would wait till she knew she had caught the attention of at least a few of them, before untying her bikini top and releasing her great big boobs. She would turn to Stagnant Stephanie with a smug expression, which would surely morph into open mouthed surprise when the so-called prudish girl boldly followed suit. Stephanie spread her fingers in a fork, and traced her labia majora down, and then up again. She squeezed her fingers back together, and teased the delicate ridges of her clitoral hood. She ventured down, following the sensitive edges of her velvety inner lips. In Stephanie's case, those lips curled back to rest flat against her labia majora, and spread out wider than she had ever bothered to notice. Before, that part of her was well hidden by the nearby hair, and she recalled her panic the day prior, when the beauty technician had needed to touch her there. It had been necessary to manipulate her inner lips somewhat, in order to treat the outer ones. But right now, as her thoughts turned sexy, she overlooked that yesterday she had felt intruded upon and violated. Now, she imagined that it was again the technician's fingers upon her labia, and not her own. She slid a finger behind the lip, gave herself a little pinch, and pulled outwards, testing what turned out to be surprising elasticity. It was without any real conscious decision that Stephanie then progressed to tease her opening with her middle finger. Ordinarily, this is where she would cease any such untoward self-indulgence. But... not this time, apparently. This time, she simply did not feel like there was any good reason to stop. The conditions were just right in that bathtub, and the slight penetration of her finger felt deliciously naughty. If, for once, she was enjoying playing with her own body, then she might make an exception for herself. Just this once. She angled her finger just right, and pressed in with a little more insistence. It's a long-standing injustice to women, that the 'tightness' of one's vagina is historically and universally used as a measure of one's virtue. Straight up nonsense, all of it. But, it had to be said that Stephanie was a perfect example of the stigma. Her canal was tight indeed, and yet, in this moment, she slipped in easier than she expected. It came as a legitimate shock to Stephanie that her body had made her secret passage a little slippery. She pushed deeper into her love tunnel, just past the first knuckle, and gasped slightly at how good even that small penetration felt. She pressed around her fleshy walls, encountering the internal ridges that awaited to stimulate whatever protrusion she permitted to enter her. She withdrew her finger and reinserted it a number of times. She imagined a stern version of herself standing in her immaculate work clothes at the end of the tub. "And just what do you think YOU'RE doing, young lady?" "Oh, nothing. Just gently fucking myself." She said it aloud, softly, and then giggled at the sound of her own voice uttering the small vulgarity. But she did withdraw her finger; there was something else she wanted to try. She placed her fingertips on her clitoral hood, and moved them around in slow circles. "Mmmmm," the small moan escaped her lips suddenly, before she could even think about whether what she was doing felt good. Obviously, it did. She had a tiny clitoris nestled somewhere in those intimate folds, and despite reaching sexual maturity years ago, her primary mechanism for receiving pleasure had been going unused. But today, it was making its presence known. And its utility. A little button that had no use other than to build desire and trigger orgasms. A switch that had never been pushed further than the standby position was now flipped onto low power, and Stephanie was surprised at how readily her inexperienced body responded to her initiation of the startup sequence. Her fingers glided over her smooth, fleshy pink hood, and the pleasure from her clit assaulted her in little jolts. It was like an old light bulb flickering on and off as it received current for the first time in years. Stephanie wanted more, and she glanced down in response to a sudden urge. Her breasts bobbed in and out of the warm water as the activity between her thighs became more vigorous. Her rosy pink nipples were aching to be touched, and there was no one else here to do it for her. "Fuck it, if I'm really doing this." She slammed down the entire contents of the flute that occupied a needed hand, and reached out of the tub to set it down, immediately triggering a mild dizzy spell. "And that makes four," she murmured with concern, promising herself to leave the bottle alone from now on. Her breasts wobbled when she turned over, and water streamed off her semi erect nipples. She wondered if such an image would interest all those men who had approached her at work, at parties, and wherever else she had met them over the years. Met them, and instantly dismissed them. She knew that it wasn't right - the way she indiscriminately shot would-be suitors down so quickly. But, she would be more approachable tonight. She constructed a telepathic invitation, decreeing that for tonight only, Stephanie Vice would be graciously receptive to all well-executed male attention, and willed it to reach the minds of whatever eligible bachelors may be at this moment making their own preparations for the ball. Hands freed, she settled back into the tub, and cupped a breast while immediately going back to diddling her little clit. She pinched her nipple gently, and then... not so gently. She gasped at the sensation that was somewhere between pleasure and pain, and stared in curiosity as the nub grew to a filled out thimble right before her eyes. Was it her imagination, or was the pink of her nipples more pronounced than usual, her areolas darker, puffier? Maybe it was the extreme contrast with her white, unblemished breast. Or maybe it was a change in the flow of blood in her body. She reached for her other nipple, and pulled it outwards while twisting it a little, quickly achieving the same effect. Stephanie closed her eyes and embraced her impromptu resolve to masturbate. The pleasure sparked from her clit in continuous waves now, and she saw no reason to stop. She could just keep doing this, so long as things continued to feel so good. She could keep going until the water threatened to cool, if she wanted. "I have to move somewhere with a bathtub," she promised her future self giddily, and then her mind wandered in tandem with her hands. Wandered among faces of people, mostly men whom she had encountered briefly, and some girls who were extra friendly to her. "Stephanie, good news! I made it after all!" The fabricated voice of Lily added weight to her fantasy. She imagined her promiscuous colleague stepping into the ensuite, wearing a tight tank top, and the shortest denim skirt that only a shameless slut would choose to board a plane in. "Oh my God, Stephanie. Are you actually jerking off?" "Mmmhmm," she replied out loud to the imaginary voice. "But, I'm kind of new to this. Maybe the amazing sexy Lily should show me how it's done?" Steph smiled at how rude her own voice sounded. In front of her, there was plenty of room for a slight person like Lily to join her. With legs out wide, her friend could just sit between them, and mirror her position. "Why Stagnant Stephanie, I thought you'd never ask." She imagined Lily saying so, while peeling off her clothes to reveal all of her exotic golden skin, and of course, her own, likewise hairless vagina. "I could do worse than Lily... but maybe I really should find someone else to share my new... style with?" She ran her fingers over her velvety, wide open lips. "And soon, before the hairs start to grow back". Stephanie laughed loudly after voicing words that she was sure she didn't mean. Did she not? Well, certainly she at least meant it as far as permitting the fantasy. "I like it like this," Lily said. She was sitting opposite Stephanie, her butt on the edge of the cast iron tub, so that Steph could properly study all the dirty details of how she liked to masturbate. She pushed her knees out wide, and began rubbing over her clit with three fingers. The imaginary Lily was rubbing harder and faster than what she was doing, so she picked up the pace to match. "Ooooh," Steph moaned as the pleasure in her clitoris intensified. She had never thought of herself as a lesbian, but Lily was a person she felt safe around, and someone who wore her sexuality with confidence. Steph was horny enough to embrace any sexy thought, no matter how silly. The sensual woman in her fantasy finally got all the way into the tub, and crawled up to her on hands and knees. Stephanie opened her mouth to welcome Lily's in an affectionate, exploratory kiss. It was now Lily's hand on her breast, and her nipple was pulled hard enough to make her squeal. At the same time, Lily's other hand replaced her own between her thighs, and the more experienced woman knew just how to stimulate her clit to guide her towards her long overdue release. And then a new thought popped into her head. Her fantasy with Lily fizzled just as it was getting good, as the object of her desire shifted to the male persuasion. She didn't even know Jerome Masterson's face, but she instantly procured one for him. A most handsome image fitting for the Mysterious Leader of their firm, and the provider of all these luxuries that she was presently enjoying. She abandoned her breast to push a finger back inside her vagina, and she quickly found the best spot to concentrate her rubbing. "Mmmm, yes," Stephanie whispered. She attacked her sex with both hands, and her body heated up beyond what was attributable to the bath water. What if their CEO had not permitted such an elaborate suite just for the girl's use after all? What if he was planning on staying there too? I guess, he would have every right to do that... Was it not likely, even, that he might turn up at any moment? He could let himself in with his own key, without so much as a knock on the door. He would enter his master bedroom, and place his suitcase on the desk there. How would he react to finding feminine belongings already strewn out on the bed? Oh - and her carelessly discarded travel clothes on the floor, including her underwear? Stephanie rubbed her pleasure zones with a little more pressure. She imagined Jerome picking up the black panties under the pretense of returning lost property to its owner, and then ever so casually holding them up to his face, breathing in the musk that inhabited the gusset, and so learning a girl's scent before he even saw her face. Wait, where did an abhorrent thought like that come from?! Stephanie had picked up on suggestions that many men liked to sniff women's underwear, but the sense in it eluded her. It had just seemed like the domain of particularly nasty perverts, not something a decent, regular man would think of. And yet she pictured her boss doing just that, and somehow it was the most natural thing in the world. It was as if she were an animal in heat, leaving a scent trail to lead a potential mate to her nest. Jerome would, with her little panties in hand, waltz straight into his ensuite, and find the culprit just as she was right now - nude, and shamelessly masturbating with closed eyes, mouthing out the 'ohs' and smiles as that exact scenario ran through her imagination. He was not one to get mad and order her to leave - no, he was a man who would have appreciation for what she was doing down there. But nor would he be such a gentleman that he would leave her to her own devices. He might instead make himself comfortable, and watch her with a smile. But why should he be content to settle for such a restrictive view of the action? Maybe he would lift her sopping wet body out of the tub with powerful arms, and plop her on the vanity, before ordering her to continue her self abuse within his full view. Would she be emboldened enough to put on the most lewd show imaginable? And how long would he be able to stand it, being a passive bystander? How close would she get to her release by her own efforts, before he would step in and take over? Would he pull out his cock, already rock hard, and take her virginity straight away? Or would he start by teaching her the best female masturbation techniques? Perhaps the scent in her panties would have appealed to him so much that he would want nothing more than to taste her from the source. "Stephanie, you deviant!" she smiled as she scolded herself. "Do try not to think about your boss that way. He might look at you tonight and immediately guess all of your fantasies!" Maybe he wasn't so kinky. By her understanding, men were pretty obsessed with having their dick's sucked. "It's fine if you want to get that comfortable, Miss Vice. But you can still make yourself useful while you take care of yourself." She would open her eyes in time to see him unbuttoning his pants as he walked over to her. She wouldn't be able to escape in time - and besides - she was naked! And once that cock sprung to hardness right before her face, she would be in no position to refuse her boss a little overtime. Despite the calling from her better judgement to end the fantasy, she felt that even the imaginary Mysterious Leader could not be defied. "Shit!" Steph said loudly as she felt the tension in her sex rise to a new threshold. She didn't need experience to know that she was about to have an orgasm. She hadn't consciously decided to take things this far - shouldn't her first time be at the hands of a man she loved? No. It felt too good to stop now. And besides, masturbation didn't count as losing one's virginity. Did it? This was already too long overdue, and she realised that the outcome had been inevitable since the moment she had permitted herself this concession. No, this treat. She opened her mouth amid her ecstasy, and then it was being filled by Jerome Masterson's huge cock. "Mmmmmm," there would be no use asking him to be gentle, because her mouth would be stuffed so full that she wouldn't be able to talk. She wasn't sure what a penis actually tasted like, so she just imagined him to be warm and salty. Like tears. "Oh, God," Stephanie was panting the words. "You're so good..." the pressure she had amassed had to burst in the very next moment. "Ahhhh-" she panted as she worked her fingers hard, at last giving in to the electric pleasure that buzzed between her clitoris and belly. At last, she was ready to find out what all the fuss was about. *Dinnnnng!* "You've got to be fucking kidding me!" Regardless of the reason, Stephanie surprised herself with the sudden curse. But she was thoroughly mortified at having been intruded upon in such a rare, private moment. A moment that was utterly ruined by the onset of panic. No, that may well have been the most justified f-bomb of her young life. Stephanie's instincts assumed immediate control, and, disappointed as she was, she climbed out of the tub, leaving her intimate business with her body bitterly unfinished. She needed something to wear - and fast. A thin, Auream Grand embroidered bathrobe hung with the towels. It was the obvious choice as something to cover herself with, without keeping the person behind the door waiting for too long. *Dinnnnng!* The door chimed again. Maybe it really was Jerome Masterson. "Oh, shut up!" she hissed, and then, louder, "just a second!" She wrapped the robe around herself and quickly fastened it with the sash, before hurrying out of the ensuite and through the bedroom. She had only left the bedroom door open a little, and in her haste she chose to do a silly shimmy through the gap, rather than taking the time to pull it open properly. "Oww!" She bumped her hip on the door's edge, but paid it no mind as she quickly closed the distance to the front entrance. She was saturated from her neck down, and she scolded herself for the wet footprints she left along the soft, woolen carpet. She got to the door and reached out for the handle. Stephanie winced from the embarrassment of having been... sprung (Stephanie, sprung? Perish the thought!) She was indeed preoccupied with her shame, and didn't even think to use the eyehole to confirm if the person standing on the other side might even have a valid justification for interrupting her privacy. She was more concerned about how long it was taking her to answer the door, as if that were some giveaway as to what she had been doing. Would the person be able to tell? Would her face be too flushed? Would there be some... smell in the air? Stephanie rashly turned the handle, and threw the door open. There stood a stylish looking pair, a man and a woman, holding carry cases of some sort. And they were staring at Stephanie with expressions of open-mouthed surprise. Dammit, they know. Somehow they know! After an awkward pause, the woman made a gesture of fixing the buttons on her blouse, and finally Stephanie looked down. Oh God. No. Fucking. Way. The bathrobe she had hastily thrown on was completely open; the single knot she had tied in the sash had failed, and the fixing now hung uselessly at her sides. It must have got caught on the bedroom door handle when she bumped it! Both her breasts were bared; in her frantic activity, they had pushed their way out of the folds of material. There they were, in full view. Stepanie's pale, supple breasts, looking a little rosy from the hot bath, and glistening with many water droplets. Her nipples were swollen and firm; bright raspberries that seemed to point to the two strangers and invite them in for a suckle. Her gaze travelled lower; by lady fortune's merciful concession, the robe still hung in front of her vagina, but that was of little comfort in the moment. For several more seconds of hell, Stephanie stared at the indecent display of her own body in complete disbelief. And then, at last, she reacted. A brief but honest scream escaped her throat, and she slammed the door shut in dismay.