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 ï>¿Stephanie Unmasked by William_Wood

   Stephanie Unmasked Pt.  02

   She struggles with her wardrobe choices at the masquerade.

   "Champagne, young miss?"

   Stephanie Vice regarded the suited gentleman who offered the tray to
her, loaded in crystal flutes full of the sparkling beige liquid.  He was
middle aged, with silver streaks in his hair.  He was attractive in both
appearance and his impeccably proper demeanor; there was something about
being served by such a gentleman that Stephanie found thrilling.  A kind of
'what else would you do for this young miss' thrill.  She wouldn't normally
have such thoughts.  Certainly the mask upon her face made her more brazen,
even if only inside her own head.

   "Yes please, those look wonderful," she replied, gratefully accepting
one of the glasses.  He bowed slightly and resumed his graceful march to
find his next customer.  Steph sipped her champagne.  She didn't normally
get into this stuff, but the poison on offer really was good.  Perhaps it
was Moet again, like the bottle that had been left for her back in her
room, or perhaps it was another expensive French champagne.  She certainly
didn't have the refined palate to tell the difference, but she was sure it
was a fine drop that tasted upon her lips.  She had to tilt her head
slightly to drink it, thanks to the long, frightening beak that protruded
from her stunning jewel-green mask.

   Remembering the hotel suite made her cringe, though that had nothing to
do with the taste of the champagne.  In the aftermath of the mortifying
incident with the bathrobe, those two stylists had done an amazing job in a
fairly short time.  She never felt the need for makeup, but the glamorous
transformation of her complexion and features certainly felt fitting for
the occasion.  The man had worked on her hair, and had pinned it up in
order to show off the bare skin that her dress revealed from the back. 
Most of it, anyway.  He had left twin wisps of her brown hair to frame her
masked face.  He had also woven a thick crown braid, which her silver tiara
nestled over the top of.

   After they had left, it had been time to don her exquisite, violet silk
gown - and that's where her troubles had really begun.  The dress was quite
inappropriate - even by the standards of someone like Lily, she was
certain. The problem: she was a full cup size bigger than she had been at
18.

   Maybe even one and a half..

   "No, don't be ridiculous," she whispered to nobody, and accepted her
second helping of a kind of pastry stuffed with parsnip, ham and parmesan.
But still, it was a problem.  The dress was a halter neck that was quite
modest over her front, with loose drapes of silk forming a fairly reserved
neckline.  But it's main feature was a daring nude look from behind;
Stephanie was left completely bare from her neck to her lower back.  The
cut of the dress boldly sold the suggestion of nakedness by exposing most
of her flanks too, and there was no small amount of side-boob.

   When Stephanie bought it, the material had clung to her chest, with just
the tiniest, teasing peak inside.  That seemed to be the design.  Tonight,
her significantly more developed bust pushed back against the silk, and
those narrow openings at her flanks were now as wide open windows.  The
profiles of her breasts were in plain sight, and she expected she would be
turning some heads from displaying so much pale, private flesh.  But even
that was not her greatest concern...

   Don't think about it!

   Stephanie tried to focus on the subtle hints of honey and mustard in her
mouth - and not the cool air moving over the sensitive places under her
dress.  She had experienced her first brazilian wax for the first time just
yesterday, and she was still getting used to the different sensations that
came with owning a completely smooth, naked vulva.

   But, isn't it a bit too cold in here?

   Yes.  Her bare back was chilled, and the air conditioning in the Great
Hall and ballroom of the Auream Grand mercilessly invaded the open cuts in
her dress, attacking her chest and belly, constantly reminding her of just
how much skin she was showing.

   Stephanie looked down, and gasped.  Her nipples!  They looked just as
they felt; firm, prominent buds that crested through the thin silk of her
gown.  It may have been a modern fashion trend among young women to allow
the nipples to be noticed to some extent or other, but not for Stephanie
Vice.  As if the side-boob wasn't enough, now anyone who talked to her
face-to-face would have the twins pointing right at them!

   She took a large gulp from her flute, but remained very self conscious
as the ballroom slowly filled with attractive bodies.  Still, thus far
nobody had given her any distinct impression that her presentation was as
scandalous as she thought.  If she wasn't too lewd by the arbitrary
standards of so many strangers, then perhaps she could endure this.  As she
considered this, a giddy feeling began to settle in over her nerves.

   It's all the mask, I'm sure.

   Yes, the key feature of the masquerade ball certainly gave her the
anonymity she needed tonight, even amongst strangers.  It also helped that
everyone else was wearing masks too, which made it hard to read people, or
to tell where their eyes wandered.

   Her perception of her vulnerability was also amplified by the absence of
other personal belongings.  A typical outing would see Stephanie wearing
jeans, with her phone, cards and keys in her pockets.  She often carried a
handbag, but tonight she didn't even have that.  Earlier, she had been so
distracted by her attire, so overwhelmed by her perceived nudity, that she
had managed to walk out of the hotel suite without her key card.

   The door had barely closed before she realised her mistake, and tried to
go back inside.  Locked, obviously!  Fortunately, a quick visit to
reception sorted the problem; the girl simply handed her an envelope with
the other two keycards (for the other two guests who never showed up). 
From there, Stephanie found herself at the ball entrance in short order,
and gave her name to the man running security.  She was almost surprised
when she indeed was on the guest list, and permitted entry.  Despite
looking the part, she honestly didn't feel like she belonged.  She was
alone, and penniless compared to the other fancy pancies in attendance.  At
least that was her perception; her own assessment of her social standing.

   The cloakroom guy had offered to take her envelope off her, and she
hesitated.  It would not do to lose any more keys, or she might not have a
beautiful hotel suite to go back to any more.  On the other hand, carrying
those things around all night would be beyond tedious, and she had nowhere
on her person to put them.  Thus, she surrendered the envelope and it's
precious contents.

   "It's not like I'll get far if I forget it when I leave!"

   "Of course, young Miss." Apparently that was her name, according to all
the staff here.  It suited her just fine.

   Presently, Stephanie was making slow progress on her first drink.  She
had indulged a little too much Moet in her room, and the new glass was
going straight to her head.  She made a mental note to put down a fair few
more of the delicious canapes going around, and scanned the crowd again.

   There were a few dozen people already in attendance, most of them
couples by the look, all mingling and talking to each other.  Everyone
looked stunning.  Formal gowns and tuxedos with tails, and they all had
masks for the occasion.  Except most of the masks looked cheap and
disposable compared to Stephanie's - she was actually concerned she would
stand out too much for that reason alone.  That, and having been there for
several minutes and so far only exchanging pleasantries with the staff, had
her feeling pretty darn awkward.

   Maybe my room is going to be the highlight of the trip afterall.

   She considered returning back to the private luxury of the room, back to
the bathtub...  but scolded herself for such cowardice.  The night was
very, very young.

   "A fellow bachelorette, I presume?" A small female voice came from
behind, and Steph turned to the source.  A little slip of a girl regarded
her, a brunette in a short, black cocktail dress.  She had one of the
cheaper looking masks - blue, and a pair of bright blue eyes shone at her
from behind it.  She was a complete stranger - but that was the whole
point. New places, no faces.

   "Guilty," Stepanie replied, and offered a warm smile.  She was grateful
that someone had finally made the effort to talk to the young bimbo with
her boobs out, and tried her best to offer some interesting conversation.
"But in my defense, isn't the whole point of a masquerade to not know
anybody's identities, so bringing a date should be against the spirit of
things, right?"

   The girl's eyes seemed to sparkle brighter.  "I suppose you're right!  I
was actually going to give you my name, but I guess it's against the
rules."

   "Don't be silly, this is a party in the end, and I refuse to address you
as 'hey you'.  I'm Steph."

   "Natalie." She put out her hand, but Stephanie didn't feel quite right
about shaking it.  This was meant to be a fun party.  Classy.  Sexy. 
Handshaking was so lame and professional - especially between women.  But
she couldn't leave the girl hanging, so she took the offered hand.  It was
smaller than hers, and softer too.  A sudden impulse took her, and she
turned the girl's hand over, and brought it up to her face to plant a kiss.

   Natalie giggled.  "Oh, don't you know how to treat a lady." And then she
likewise pulled Stephanie's hand to her mouth and returned the gesture. 
Her lips felt warm, and sticky from her bright red lipstick, though when
she got her hand back, it didn't seem that any of the rouge had transferred
onto her.

   "Likewise," Steph offered.  She couldn't think of a time an introduction
with a member of the same sex had gone that way, but that was good. 
Tonight was supposed to be different.  Tonight was supposed to be a little
risque, and she didn't want that to start and finish with her embarassing
state of dress.

   "So, what brings you here, if not to be paraded and shown off as a
covetable trophy date."

   "Ummm, I work for a law firm and...  the CEO, well, I think he has a
major role in this tonight, and...  he literally wanted to invite some
young women from the office to parade them around and show them off."

   She made Natalie laugh again.  The girl was smart enough to know she had
given no offense, and they were just exchanging some witty banter.  "Well,
don't feel bad, but I would say it's mission accomplished.  You look
stunning.  That dress, and your mask - it's exquisite, and I love what
someone has done with your hair!  But honestly, I wasn't sure if I could
even talk to you."

   "Ummm, thank you?  So that's what I did wrong.  I was wondering why no
guy has approached me yet."

   "Ha!  Because their girlfriends and wives would make them suffer for it,
I'm guessing!  Just wait and see what a few more of these Dom PÃ(C)rignon's
can do about that."

   "Dom PÃ(C)rignon?  Is that...  more expensive than Moet, or less?" Oops.
She had been doing well, and then a bimbo comment slipped out.  Natalie
looked at her as if she was stupid, and she tried not to visibly wince
during the silence that followed.

   "Well, duh.  They are both obviously for rich idiots.  Just give me a
chardonnay or a beer next time and I'll be golden." Now it was Steph's turn
to laugh, mostly for misjudging the girl for a moment.  If she didn't meet
anyone else all night she would still have good company, as it turned out.

   "And are these people..." Steph gestured around the room, which was fast
becoming more crowded as the remaining guests were now arriving in a steady
stream.

   "Rich idiots?  Well, the first part, for sure.  We might be some of the
only exceptions to that.  They are mostly owners of successful startups and
other entrepreneurial types.  That's why they are so young, with hot as
fuck dates."

   "Oh yeah?  Which of the ladies are catching your eye?"

   "Oh?" Natalie raised an eyebrow as if there were something strange about
the question.  "They're all very pretty, I guess.  I was talking about the
male dates, though." She winked, although her expression was kind of lost
behind her mask.

   "Right, of course.  Are most of the big shots here actually women,
then?"

   "I don't think so.  I was just playing."

   "No it's fine, I liked it," Stephanie offered a small giggle.  "You're
funny.  So, what's your story, then?"

   "Well, I might as well come clean on that.  I've been contracted to do
some photography tonight."

   "Oh?  I don't see a camera on you.  I hope you didn't forget something
important."

   Natalie made a show of mock-nervous laughter.  "No, I'm not so much
meant to be bothering people enjoying the party.  It's more for the
charity."

   Stephanie raised an eyebrow.  "I don't follow."

   "I've actually set up a little studio in the hall on the way to the
ladies room.  I'm supposed to try and get every woman here in for a little
photo shoot.  At the end of the night, well, my photos are meant to be the
product for auctioning off.  Only..."

   "No customers yet?"

   Natalie nodded.  "I'm trying to get the word around now, and then I'll
be in the studio most of the night.  I need to get started soon though! 
Look, Steph, you are just so gorgeous, and you would really be helping me
out if you could maybe, get the ball rolling for me?"

   Stephanie swallowed, and tried not to look as panicked as she felt at
the thought of her raunchy look this evening becoming immortalised on film.
And, it was just creepy!  The idea that some man here might purchase the
photos for some silly sum of money!  She had just before been thinking that
she wanted the night to feel on the risque side, but this wasn't exactly
what she had in mind.  Sensing her hesitation, Natalie continued in a rush.
"Don't worry, hun, I'm really good at what I do.  I promise you'll be proud
of the pictures.  Anyway, I really need to get started!  Do you think you
could swing by sooner than later?"

   "Ummmm, sure.  As soon as standing around with no friends gets too
awkward, I guess."

   Natalie poked her in the ribs.  "You better make it soon, then. 
Something tells me you will be quite popular before too long."

   With that, Natalie was gone, and Stephanie was alone again.  For a few
minutes she was content just to scope out all the glamorous people, and
make her own personal impact upon the abundant canapes.

   Then, the music changed.  It was much louder, and orchestral.  Mostly
strings, with highly accented, staccato notes.  A cheer rose towards the
center of the hall, and Stephanie gazed toward the source of the commotion.

   "Oh, gosh!" A particularly stunning couple with dark looks were dancing
together, and everybody else was moving to give them space.  That is, they
were actually dancing.  "Is that...  tango?" Stephanie had seen the
dramatic 'walking' kind of dance enough in movies to recognise it.  But it
was obvious that these two were really good.  Oh and wait - was that a red
rose in the man's mouth?  They were even doing that thing.  She realised it
was unlikely to be a spontaneous performance by the masked pair, and that
they might have been invited to the ball for this very purpose.  Certainly
Stephanie was grateful for the entertainment.

   The dancers came together in a promenade position, and took long steps
towards the crowd.  But they didn't expect anybody to move out their way,
and instead the man adjusted his moves to guide his partner between the
little groups.  They even did a series of complex turns that somehow dodged
a few small clusters of guests, and then he dropped her into a dramatic
dip, but leaned down after her, and she took the rose from him between her
own teeth.  That earned a cheer from the crowd, and Stephanie clapped too.

   The woman was about Stephanie's height, but was without a doubt more
curvy.  She looked strong, much stronger than Steph, despite her
substantial commitment at the gym.  She wore a gown of deep, vibrant red,
and her chestnut-brown hair cascaded down her back in thick curls.  Her
partner was well matched with her, as he was very tall.  Not to mention,
incredibly handsome.  And confident.  They both looked Mediterranean, or
perhaps, like the origin of their dance, Latin American.  The dance went on
for the next couple of minutes, and Stephanie got the impression that the
steps were largely improvised, with perhaps a few fancy moves planned ahead
of time.  But it was all very sexy.

   When they weren't taking those long steps around the room, they had
their hands on each other's bodies.  His lips brushed her neck at each
opportunity, and her feet stepped about him in an intricate manner
suggestive of a playful courting ritual.  The woman's dress was split on
one side similar to Stephanie's own, but it went higher up her leg, giving
her more freedom in her movements.  Suffice to say, she was showing a lot
of well tanned skin, and was not shy about flashing plenty of glimpses of
her underwear during the dramatic spins and dips.  Her underwear was also
red.  A red thong.

   The music piece must have been nearly finished, when the sultry woman
ripped open several buttons on her partner's shirt, and ran her fingers
through the mat of dark hairs now exposed on his chest.

   One of their own ideas, no doubt.

   After that, there seemed to be a shift in the dynamics of their steps.
Instead of flirting with him and stepping around him, she was the pursuer,
and his moves were to evade her passion and her need.  Stephanie gulped
when they seemed to head straight for her.  They swooped by, leaving her
breathing in the trail of the woman's perfume.  At last, she had him pinned
up against a post at the bottom of the grand staircase, and lunged at him
face-to-face.  As she did, he swiped an arm to collect the bottom of her
dress and hold it to the side, and pressed his hand into the small of her
back to hold her there as both her feet left the ground to embrace his
bent-over-backwards figure.

   It seemed like their finishing pose, with the man demonstrating
incredible strength as he held her fast, with only the rounded top of the
balustrading post to support him at the shoulders.  They held there in what
was surely an unconventional role-reversed dip, and the heated looking
woman spat out the rose stem in order to kiss him full on the lips.

   The crowd clapped and hooted, while Stephanie stood transfixed from her
vantage point barely ten feet from the action.  The couple continued to
kiss passionately, and the man held the bottom of her dress out wider, with
his fingers encouraging for more applause as more of the backs of his
partner's thighs were exposed.

   The desired effect was achieved, and the applause reached a crescendo,
punctuated by wolf whistles as the man continued to force her dress to ride
high, until her buttocks were exposed.  Stephanie's eyes widened at the
titillating spectacle.  The dancer was offering more than a flash of her
red g-string this time, but her ass was one she could be proud to show off.
Every eye in the room was surely glued to her generously proportioned
bubble-butt, and Stephanie was no exception.  One needed only visit the
beach to spy an equivalent amount of female backside, but this was
different.  The dance had been so sexy, and the manner in which the
dancer's exposure had unfolded was provocative beyond anything in her
experience.

   I guess I needn't have worried about becoming some kind of center of
attention.

   Even after the dancer broke out of the kiss with her partner, she looked
back at what she was showing, then smiled for everyone, and gave it a
wiggle for good measure.  More whistling joined the chorus until at last
the man lifted her at her waist and pulled her to the side to face the
crowd, gently setting her stiletto-heeled feet back on the ground.

   The performance was over, but before people had a chance to return to
their conversations, there came an announcement over the speakers.  "Ladies
and gentleman, welcome to the first Annual Masterson Charity Ball.  Let's
hear it one more time for our Argentine Tango stars, Mia and Bradly!" The
hot, no longer anonymous couple at the bottom of the stairs bowed, and
there was another round of applause.

   "And without further ado, it is my pleasure to introduce your host for
this evening, and founder of The Masterson Foundation, Mr.  Jerome
Masterson."

   Mia and Bradly, who were still the main subject of attention, were both
looking up the grand staircase.  Stephanie followed their gaze in time to
see another couple rounding the last curve of the upper section of the
stairs, arm in arm.  The stand-out of the pair was undoubtedly the woman.
The applause in the room had given way to excited whispers and gasps, but
Stephanie was too stunned for even that.

   The woman was tall and lithe, with pale skin and outrageously long
blonde hair.  Her mask was identical to Stephanie's, only a rich purple in
colour, and it occurred to her that it had probably come from the same
source as those purchased for the girls of the office.  She wore a
mid-length pencil skirt in shimmering baby blue...  and that was about it.
On her top, she wore nothing more than an elaborate piece of golden,
sparkling jewelry - hence earning the surprise of every person in the room.

   As they drew closer, Stephanie could make out the details of the piece.
It was two snakes, curving around her back and making a circle over each of
her breasts.  Their golden bodies were studded with scores of diamonds, and
the jeweled heads were designed to rest over the wearer's nipples. 
Somewhat.  As the girl moved down the stairs with seductively swaying hips,
her pert little breasts jiggled within the precious, but flimsy frame, and
the rosey blush of her areolas phased in and out of view.

   "I know that piece," an excited whisper sounded nearby.  "It was made
for a movie a couple of decades ago.  It was meant to be worth ten million
bucks!"

   "Really?  Was the girl in that just as hot?"

   "I think so.  But it was the bathroom scene where it was taken from her
piece by piece that I remember.  The longest girl-on-girl make-out scene
you'll ever see in a movie."

   Stephanie felt fire rise in her cheeks, and pried her eyes from the
spectacle which was now way too close for her to comfortably ogle.  She
shifted her attention to Jerome Masterson instead.  He was tall - not
overly so - but arguably exceeding the height of his model-like date in
spite of her 4" heels.  He wore a suit of pure white, and in the opening of
his jacket Stephanie saw a white shirt with golden trimmed ruffles,
complete with a bow-tie in gold.

   Similarly, Jerome's mask was pearly white with gold decals.  It was a
fearsome thing, but instead of the menacing beak of the ladies' masks, it
sported goat-like horns that curved up and outwards from the sides. 
Stephanie couldn't have recognised her boss, even if she had known him
beforehand.  His hands and neck were about all he showed of his olive skin,
and long, thin lips were the only visible facial feature above a proud,
shadowy chin.

   Mysterious Leader, indeed.

   When they reached the bottom of the stairs, the woman seemed to
recognise Mia and immediately detached from her handsome escort to embrace
her.  Jerome likewise broke off in the other direction and started shaking
hands and greeting guests.  Contemporary music again filled it's role of
background noise, and Stephanie realised that the formalities had been kept
delightfully short.

   But that was a problem, too.  She was still standing alone just a few
meters from the esteemed newly arrived, and was probably about to have
someone try to kiss her or shake her hand.  Stephanie's nerves quickly got
the better of her, and she took a few steps back.  She was starting to feel
overwhelmed, and there was nobody she knew who she could take refuge with.

   But perhaps, one person.

   Natalie had urged her to visit her in her studio sooner than later, and
suddenly there was no better excuse for fleeing the main ballroom.  Steph
did an about-face and strode purposefully to the exit where Natalie had
indicated she would be waiting.

   It was an old part of the hotel; a hallway that was surprisingly narrow,
it's closeness accentuated by tall ceilings with dim lights on brass
alcoves every several meters.  It had a boutique feel about it not unlike
her suite, but there was something unsettling about experiencing that vibe
in a public space.  Stephanie spied a sign for the women's bathroom a
little further down, and was grateful that she wouldn't need to go all the
way to the main lobby for that purpose.

   She wondered at the everyday role of this haunted old wing, but
understood well enough why it was being used tonight.  It would be a
female-only area, somewhere for women to retreat to for checking on their
appearance, relieving themselves of the excess champagne consumption, and
apparently...  paying a visit to this photographer.

   Or somewhere to get cornered.

   Was that why it was so unsettling?  If a man were to enter the hallway
with a certain kind of intent, her escape would be pretty well blocked. 
"Don't be silly, Stagnant Stephanie.  These are classy folks here." She
steeled herself, and meandered down the corridor.  The first door on her
left had a temporary sign on it, 'For the auction'.  Steph pushed down the
handle on the old oak door and entered the room.

   "Hi there, Steph!  You came!" She was greeted by the beaming face of
Natalie, who had already ditched her mask.

   "Hi Natalie, I was summoned, remember?" She touched her hand to her mask
to remove it, but something stopped her.  The anonymity it granted her
really was helping her hold it together, and she wasn't going to relinquish
her shield without good reason.

   It was a small room, with a little desk in one corner where Natalie
worked on her laptop.  Mobile lights were set up here and there, including
near a luxurious leather armchair, and a small, high, round table with a
single barstool.  At the back awaited a gigantic printer, and Stephanie
briefly wondered how they had even fit it through the doorway.

   The girl picked up her camera, which was the real deal.  She glanced at
the device that was her livelihood, then at Steph.  "Do you mind?"

   Stephanie didn't really want her picture taken - at least not for the
purpose Natalie intended.  Then again, this was meant to be a charity ball.
She wasn't really in a position to be handing out her money, so...

   "Ummm, well I guess this would be the only way I can contribute."

   "Good answer!" And with that, Natalie snapped her first photo. 
Stephanie pouted in annoyance, and the shutter clicked again.  Then she
laughed, and a third photo was taken.

   "Good start.  Now, lean out on one hip and put your hand on the other.
Yes, nice..."

   They went through a few poses, and Stephanie had to admit to herself
that she was enjoying the attention.  Natalie was a fun person, and she was
playing up the role a bit as if she were photographing an actual model. 
They went through a few shots with Stephanie preening on the armchair, and
then back to standing again.  Natalie got her to strike some profile view
poses, and she complied, fully aware of the gaping window to her breasts,
and that her curves were being captured in that state for somebody's
permanent possession.

   "My God," Natalie commented.  "That is such a tease.  I'll have to
include that one, whoever buys it will wish they had made more effort to
meet you."

   It felt very naughty, but the idea that her pictures were going to be a
'tease' for someone brought Stephanie an unfamiliar, pleasant thrill. 
Natalie gestured for her to turn to show her other side, to show off the
split-leg side of her dress.  Stephanie made sure a good amount of her leg
was showing, and then smoothed her hands down the flanks of her dress.

   "While you've got your hand there, could you hook your thumb under the
side of your dress?  As if you're about to pull it away and give me an
eyeful."

   Stephanie giggled, and did that too.  Anyone looking at these photos
would be drawn to the profile of her breasts anyway, so it wasn't that big
a deal to draw some more attention to that place.

   "Lovely!  So hot, hun.  Now, give me an eyeful."

   "Hey?" The spell was all but broken, as Stephanie was pushed up against
her limit.

   "I've been asked to get some more risque shots.  Noone will see them
tonight, but once word gets around there's some naughty ones in the
portfolios I'll be printing out, the guys will bid higher.  That's the
theory.  And Stephanie, there won't be any digital versions of the photos
after tonight.  It makes it a more exclusive product if people know there's
no chance of another copy, and all they get is the couple of big canvases
I'll choose to show you off in the auction, and the A4 booklet with the
rest.  And that's it.  I promise these pictures won't come back to bite
you."

   Stephanie murmured, "I'm sure they will," but considered the request. 
She was meant to be ditching Stagnant Stephanie tonight.  She was meant to
be Sexy Stephanie, and Natalie had used the exact word that had been
floating around her mind earlier.  Risque.  She touched her face,
confirming that her mask was still properly in place.  Nobody here knew
her, and it wasn't like Jerome Masterson would be buying her photos.  Even
if he doesn't speak to her tonight, he will still recognise her from her
mask; his gift.  She would be wearing it in the photo they display for
auction, and little lights would flash in his mind, with red text
overlaying his sight: 'Warning!  Sexual harassment lawsuit opportunity!'

   Nope, nobody she knew would buy it.  Not to mention, two people had
already seen her boobs completely bare earlier.  And she wasn't upset by
that anymore.  Not really.

   She took a deep breath, and, emboldened by the wicked mask upon her
brow, she did as was asked of her.

   "Yes, Steph!  So, so hot.  Can you...  can you pull it away just a
little more?"

   Stephanie actually laughed.  She was exposing herself to Natalie, her
camera, and whomever might see this 'booklet' for the next 100 years.  She
was dizzy from an adrenaline rush that was somehow winning out over her
natural disposition towards modesty, and was now well aware of a slight
tickle inside her downstairs.  She welcomed the flood of chemicals, and
pushed her thumb harder against the side hem of her dress.  She felt the
cool air attacking her breast and nipple, and she giggled giddily, before
blowing a kiss to the camera.

   "Nice, perfect!  And I don't even need to get the ice out for you!"

   "Ice?"

   "For your nipples.  But I guess the air conditioning here has us
covered."

   Your nipples are erect.  And you just showed one off for a high
resolution photo, you slut.

   Stephanie let go of her dress and brought her hand to her mouth.  "Wow,
how embarrassing.  I can't believe I did that!  That really wasn't like me.
Can you delete that last one?"

   Natalie laughed.  "Not a chance!  In fact, I think you're ready for the
money shot."

   "Oh, and what's that going to be?  Under my frock?"

   "You guessed it!  I was specifically asked to add a naughty upskirt to
every portfolio."

   "Nah ah uh.  No way!" Stephanie was firm, but she was still laughing. 
"You're so bad, Natalie!"

   "Oh, don't get prudish with me now.  It's not even that bad, just a
little flash of your bum and knickers.  And I already know you've got
killer legs to show off."

   Stephanie bit her lip, as her little problem for the evening caught up
to her in full force.  She pressed her thighs together defensively, to
protect herself from the threat of Natalie's camera, and to try and
suppress that tickle that had just become more prominent.  "Sorry, I'm not
doing that."

   "Oh." Natalie pouted, but did not press the issue.  "Well, thanks so
much for being my first customer.  If the other girls make nearly as good
models for me, the fundraising targets will get blown out of the water!"

   "Right.  It was fun though, really.  But I can't believe someone is
really going to have a copy of these...  by the end of the night?"

   "Yep!  But hey, you can always buy them yourself."

   Stephanie shook her head.  "Yeah, I don't think so.  I would be even
more embarrassed if I had to see them myself." With that, she made for the
door.  "But, I think I'm ready for another drink."

   "Oh, Stephanie?" She was stopped with her fingers on the handle.  "After
a few more Dom PÃ(C)rignon's, why don't you reconsider that upskirt shot?"

   Stephanie laughed again.  "Yeah, sure.  I'll reconsider it.  Bye,
Natalie.  And good luck!"

   Moments later, the scandal of that cramped boutique studio was behind
her, and, after an essential visit to the ladies' room, she was back in the
large open space of the Great Hall.  It hadn't been long, but the party
already seemed in full swing.  Women were laughing and dancing, and men
were engaged in excited conversations and slapping each other on the back.
Stephanie grabbed a champagne flute from the nearest and most handsome
serving man, swallowed nearly half of it, and strode blindly, purposefully,
into the crowd.

   Some time later, Steph was surprised by how much fun she was having. 
Anytime she felt self-consciouss about her exposed sideboob, she just
sought out Jerome Masterson's glamorous date in the crowd, took a good look
at the pale swell of her essentially bare breasts, and felt better.  But
she certainly received her own share of attention, too.  Men and women
alike approached her and commented on either her mask or her dress, and she
was able to launch into an interesting conversation from there.

   Sexy Stephanie, not Stagnant Stephanie.

   She kept reminding herself to keep the topics fun, and not fall into any
mood killing matters such as pandemics or climate change.  An easy one to
bring up, was Natalie and her photoshoot operation.  'Have you been yet?'
'I was a little...  naughty.' 'You won't believe what pose she is trying to
get to include with every auction item!' 'Did I let her take that one of
me? I guess someone will find out!'

   Steph danced a bit, too.  At one point, the DJ played a few classic
tracks with 3-beat timing, and those couples who had learned a little waltz
(probably for their respective weddings) laughed together as they tried to
recall their routines.  But mostly it was the usual music that everybody
knew, the songs that were proven to get people moving.  For Stephanie, it
started when a girl she was talking to suddenly decided her favourite song
was on, and pulled her into the center of the room, in front of the grand
staircase, which had naturally become accepted as the dance floor.

   The food disappeared, and the limits of the Dom PÃ(C)rignon supply were
being tested.  In fact they could have been moved onto a cheap substitute
by now, and few would be able to tell the difference.  The tackier looking,
less practical masks among the guests became discarded one by one, and
inhibitions were dropping.  Women were starting to grind up against their
partners on the dance floor, and each other.  Of course, Stephanie wasn't
involved in any of that!

   At least, there's no way I could initiate it.

   "Young Miss Vice, I presume?"

   Stephanie turned, and beheld the figure who enquired after her.  He was
tall, resplendent in a suit of white.  His mask was cut from the same cloth
as her own, though now that she was close, she could clearly see his large,
soft looking brown eyes.  At last, she was meeting Jerome Masterson.

   "Ah, Mysterious Leader," but she immediately winced.  Too familiar?

   "In the flesh, though, I find that name leaves a little too much to live
up to.  Entirely Lily's doing, no doubt.  You can call me Jerome." He put
his hand out, but Stephanie had other ideas.  She had been doing this all
night, inspired by that first meeting with Natalie.  She thrust her arm
out, fingers facing down.  Jerome took the hint, and upgraded his handshake
offer to lifting her hand for a kiss.  The sudden touch of his warm, moist
lips sent a shudder all the way down Stephanie's spine.  A good kind of
shudder that ended in a tingle over her own moist lips.  And not the ones
that she moved to greet her boss.

   When she got her hand back, Steph spared a glance down at her body. 
Everything was as it should be, including the clear indentations of her
nipples in the thin silk that wrapped her up.  She corrected her posture,
standing tall and allowing her chest to naturally thrust forwards.  They
were silent for a moment, in which time she could feel his eyes surveying
her from head to toe.

   Finally, he spoke.  "I think you did some legwork for me on a case a
little while back.  It was very thorough, but I fear I may have neglected
to thank you."

   "Yes, the Kovoski case.  I thought-"

   But Jerome brought his finger to his lips, and Stephanie's voice trailed
off immediately.  Of course, he wouldn't want to speak of work tonight!

   "It was good work, Miss Vice.  Thank you.  I'm a little surprised you
seem to be on your own tonight, I thought there were to be three of you? 
I've been looking out for, ah-"

   "These fancy masks you bought us?"

   Jerome smiled.  "Yes, admittedly."

   The guy did not break composure.  There was an honest humility to him
that Stephanie found incredibly attractive.  She was quickly enjoying the
conversation, but decided to stop teasing him.  For now.

   "I'm kidding.  I absolutely love this mask.  It looks terrifying and
beautiful.  I don't know if this big beak makes me look like an evil witch,
but it's amazing.  Thank you."

   "You're very welcome.  You know, an event like this doesn't come around
very often, no matter what circles you travel in.  I couldn't resist the
chance to do it properly.  These masks were handmade in Venice - but not
the common ones found on every corner.  A true craftsman fashioned these,
I'm led to believe.  I hope it can be something of a keepsake for you."

   "Oh, don't worry I will treasure this, even if I never get another
chance to wear it.  And I'm sorry, but...  Neither Lily nor Anne were able
to come in the end." She was about to make excuses for her co-workers, but
then, why should she let such a thing make a fast liar of her to such a
beautiful man?

   "It's ok, Miss Vice, you don't have to speak for others.  If they
couldn't come - but you still did, then I admire that.  It mustn't have
been easy coming here, without knowing a single soul."

   "Don't worry about me, Jerome.  I'm doing just fine - and if not - I've
still got that incredible presidential suite to go back to."

   She saw Jerome's eyes blink behind his mask.  "Presidential suite, huh?
I might have to make sure Lily is given a bit more direction for future
events."

   Stephanie put her hand to her mouth.  It hadn't occurred to her that her
suite had been anything less than another generous gift from her boss. 
"Sorry, I mean I just called it that, I don't actually know much about
hotels.  Did...  did she not book you the same thing?"

   Jerome smirked.  "My room came as something of a donation from The
Auream Grand, but it's nothing fancy.  Hey, why are we talking about this?
It's only for the night anyway.  I did hear though, that Lily was calling
in some stylists.  Did something go wrong?"

   Stephanie considered how elaborately the hairdresser had done her up,
and how good her makeup was too, not that he would be able to see much
beyond her violet lipstick.  There could be no mistaking the professional
effort that bore this result; Jerome was playing with her, and she
responded by giving him a playful punch on his arm.  Her small fist was at
risk of bruising after hitting into such a firm tricep.  With his slim
frame, she wouldn't have guessed he had such solid muscle tone.  But suits
had a way of disguising these things.  On the other hand, Stephanie felt
that her own body might as well be laid out naked for his scrutiny and
appraisal.  As far as she could tell, she had gained his approval.

   "I don't know what you mean.  This is how I turn up for work every day."

   "Well, I had heard that there was this extraordinary young beauty in the
paralegal team.  But for some reason I imagined they meant a girl who just
woke up with a naturally captivating face, and morning hair that was
beautiful without so much as a combing."

   Stephanie bit her lip.  She thought he was giving her a roundabout
compliment, but it was a little too convoluted to be flattering.  If he was
trying to keep her guessing what he thought about her, it was working.

   "You can imagine, all you like, Mysterious Leader."

   Just then, Jerome's partner sauntered over to join them.  Her movements
were as cool and elegant as the serpents that formed her sort-of chest
covering.  Jerome noticed her approach, and took her hand to guide her to
stand before Stephanie.  She found herself again stunned that the woman was
virtually topless.  On closer inspection, the jewelry was in fact held in
place by two transparent plastic straps, but it offered nothing in terms of
support, and little more in the way of modesty.

   "May I introduce my lovely escort tonight, Mikayla.  Mikayla, this is
Stephanie Vice, one of the young ladies from my firm."

   "Hello," Stephanie offered, and the girl smiled.  She might have been
similar to her in age or a little older, but her beauty was nothing short
of breathtaking.  Her mauve enamel mask did little to detract from her
loveliness, and big, bright blue eyes enquired as to her business with
Jerome.  "Your, ummm, snakes...  they're the talk of the party.  I heard
it's a priceless thing, a one-of-a-kind made for a movie?"

   "This is true," she had a thick European accent.  Russian, possibly. 
"It is on loan to Mr.  Masterson's charity, just for this night.  They need
someone of specific, hmm..."

   "Measurements," Jerome helped her out.

   "Yes.  So they contact my agency, and it was offered for me.  Priceless
jewels, and masquerade ball.  Masquerade!  How could I say no?"

   She's not actually his date.  Not a romantic one, at least.

   "Just like for the movie then!" Stephanie blurted, though the quip
sounded less clever than when it had formed in her head.

   "Oh, you have seen it?"

   "Actually, no.  But someone said that the girl who wore that piece-" she
pointed at the head of one of the snakes, or at least had meant to.  She
might have fallen more heavily under the influence of alcohol than she had
judged, because her finger managed to graze an exposed side of Mikayla's
perky, pink nipple.  It was even firmer than it looked, and freezing cold!
She withdrew immediately and was about to apologise, but incredibly,
Mikayla gave no reaction whatsoever.  Instead, Steph leaned in and made a
show of whispering as if Jerome should not hear her.  But with a flair of
melodrama, such that he certainly would hear.  "She has the longest
make-out scene with another girl ever captured in cinema.  In the ladies
restroom!"

   "Is it?" Mikayla replied with a giggle.  "Someone say we" - she
indicated Jerome - "already made a fine recreate of opening scene.  When we
arrive, earlier." Then, she leaned in closer still, so close that Stephanie
felt the cold brush of metal and diamonds against her own exposed flank. 
She whispered back, directly into her ear.  A whisper for her ear only. 
"Perhaps you be ready, Stephanie, to recreate your scene also.  The next
time you go for little wee-wee." Steph didn't know if she was being flirted
with or threatened, but she started when Mikayla gave her the briefest,
playful nip on the ear lobe, before stepping back from her.

   Another couple, surely among the eldest in attendance, forced their way
into the circle with the clear intention of stealing Jerome away. 
Stephanie's boss smiled as he greeted them, but his eyes darted to
Stephanie one more time.  She gave him a military salute, and the couple
pulled him away to discuss something quite passionately.

   So, that went about as well as it could have.

   "Have you seen this photographer for charity?" Mikayla's enquiry
confirmed she had no desire to follow her date into his latest
conversation.

   "Yes.  God, that was something.  But for you, well...  I don't know.  I
could never wear that piece to begin with.  How are you so brave?"

   "Perhaps I like this attention?  The photos were not a problem for me.
I'm model, so this is common."

   "Even the upskirt shot?"

   Mikayla laughed, looked down and smoothed her hands over her tight blue
skirt.  "That...  not so common, but I do this too."

   A female voice chimed in from nearby, husky, suggestive of a possible
cigarette habit.  "I let her take pictures under my dress too, but why not?
Everyone already saw my ass anyway."

   Stephanie blinked.  An olive skinned woman in a red dress was suddenly
by them - the dancer.  When neither of them quite knew what to say in
response, she continued.  "So, Mikayla, I felt a bit silly pretending like
we were best buddies when you made your entrance.  Figured I could make it
up to you by getting to know you for real?"

   "I would like this," Mikayla replied curtly.  "But first, this gorgeous
creature here is Stephanie Vice." With mandatory introductions initiated,
Mia turned her attention to Steph.

   "Hi Stephanie, I'm Mia!  Damn, your mask is just as good as Mikayla's.
I'm pretty jealous, I must say."

   "You can call me Steph if you like.  And I'm the one who should be
jealous.  You probably heard this a million times, but I just loved your
tango.  It was the perfect stunt to kick things off."

   Mia preened before her.  "Thanks!  At least you recognised it.  Have
you...  done any ballroom?"

   "Me?" Stephanie laughed.  "No, I'm kind of goofy-footed.  And too shy,
as well."

   Mia tsked.  "I doubt that.  Next time the music changes, I'll set you up
with Brad.  He's good enough he can drag you through the basics."

   Then, it was as if the universe itself, in it's enigmatic omnipotence,
was suddenly in unanimous agreement with the dancer known as Mia.  No
sooner had she made her proposition, and an instrumental piece of music
began.

   "Oh!  It's back to tango again," Mia blurted in an enthusiastic rush. 
"You'll love this, and the basic is like, really basic.  Instead of
standard dance position, Brad will have his hand on your lower back.  But
if he grabs your ass, feel free to slap him!"

   "May I have this dance?" It hadn't taken Mia's partner, Brad, long to
find her in the crowd, and he now stood there with the three women,
offering his hand to her gallantly.  For the second time inside of a few
minutes, Stephanie's heart was aflutter with the near presence of an
attractive man; even taller and darker than Jerome, though not quite as
immaculately presented.

   "I'm busy!" Mia put her arm around Mikayla's thin, naked waist, but
crooked her head in Stephanie's direction.  Next thing she knew, Brad was
facing straight at her.  His mask was as black as his hair, with a number
of feathers protruding from the sides.  The invitation of his left hand was
now offered her way, and, without overthinking it, Stephanie gingerly
placed her right hand over it.

   A firm pull on her arm drew her close to the beautiful man; a masked
stranger.  He towered over her nearly a full head, even with her high heels
on, and she found her face near his shoulder.  She looked up at him, but
his dark eyes were unreadable.  His hand found the small of her back, just
as Mia had explained.

   My bare back!

   But the warmth of his touch was a change Steph felt inclined to welcome,
and she reminded herself that he was a professional at this.  And that was
enough precedence for her to lend him her trust.  She observed that he had
positioned himself off-center to her, and the inside of his left thigh was
making contact with the outside of her right.

   "Like this, sweetie," Mia took her left hand, and straightened her
fingers out into a flat palm.  She positioned it so that the blade of her
palm pressed in beneath Brad's shoulder, and their position felt complete.
They were so close, she could smell his cologne.  Compared to the other
dances she had seen tonight, this was surely more intimate.  "The first
steps will be backwards."

   Immediately following the delivery of Mia's final advice, Brad took a
step forward, while pushing on Stephanie's arm and kind of lifting at her
back.  It was a clear signal for Stephanie to step backwards, and she
surprised herself by using the correct foot and avoiding an early failure.

   Their steps were small, much smaller than the showcase act he had
performed with Mia earlier.  But it was enough for Stephanie.  A few steps
back, and then one to the side, where they halted in time with the staccato
note in the music.  The next bar came, and again she was being walked back,
on a curved arc possibly in order to dodge a group of people behind her. 
She didn't know where anybody was, but the strength in Brad's lead gave her
the confidence to trust in his navigation.  He seemed to be leaning into
her despite a perfectly straight back, and his closeness caused her heart
to pound hard and fast; chaotically off-beat with the dramatic music.

   He pulled her arm out wide and angled his hand on her back, and she
found herself imitating the promenade position she had seen earlier.  Brad
took her a few steps down the room, and Stephanie recognised the pattern.
When the next staccato note came with a pause, she followed his lead to
hold back from another step, and instead swung her hips to put her weight
on her back foot.

   Brad smiled in approval.  "You're a fast learner, my little witch."
Oops, she had not even had the chance to introduce herself.  And witch? 
She had made the same comparison only some minutes ago, so it must have
been true.  With the next steps, Brad was pushing her in different
directions, taking her through a series of turns that made her giggle.  The
firm press from each of his hands gave her subtle instructions about where
he wanted her to go.  The contact of his thigh on hers was less subtle, and
Stephanie realised that the split on her leg had already permitted him onto
her bare skin.

   Now, I'm Sexy Stephanie!

   She was enjoying herself immensely.  There was nothing like an exotic
man offering confident, expert guidance through the Argentine Tango to
captivate a young woman and turn her into putty in his hands.  Stephanie
recognised they were back to the beginning of the routine again, except
that she suspected his right hand had slid lower, almost to her backside
now.  He was partly touching her bare skin, and partly caressing her
through the thin silk that started only inches above her butt.

   'But if grabs your ass, feel free to slap him!' Stephanie tried to
imagine herself making such a scene on account of a little impropriety from
her partner, but realised she was not brave enough nor proud enough.

   They reached the point where she expected to enter the promenade again,
but Brad mixed it up.  He guided her to stop with her hip out to one side,
and he moved in a slow circle around her.  She felt his eyes devouring her
body.  Everywhere the silk clung tightly to her skin, and everywhere it
left her bare.  Her naked back, that she thought sprouted goose-pimples
under the power of his scrutiny.  The near flatness of her belly, and the
exaggerated curves of her hips.  The obvious imprint of her cool, aroused
nipples.  The rise and fall of her breasts, for she couldn't help but
breathe so very heavily.  She felt his eyes on them, their supple profiles
exposed by the open flanks of her dress.

   Without an ounce of shame or pity, he made his 360 degree inspection of
her figure.  Her tummy was filling with fluttering butterflies, and the
tickle in her vagina turned insidious.  His stare pierced her heart, and
swiftly catalogued all of her insecurities.  He assessed her lack of
experience in a moment, but that did not cause him to lose interest.

   Perhaps he sees me as easy prey.

   He finished his inquisitive revolution of her, and took her back into
the formal embrace of their dance position.  This time, his right hand was
most definitely wrapped over one of her buttocks.  Stephanie opened her
mouth to protest, but at that moment he took her through another series of
turns - the same sequence as before so that she might follow a little
easier.  His hold on her butt grew more assertive, and his fingertips
invaded the crevice that divided her cheeks.

   Stephanie was largely overwhelmed, and before she knew it he had pulled
her close enough that her body rubbed on the front of his pants.  She felt
some hardness from him brushing over her stomach, and the swarm of
butterflies inside her went ballistic.  She barely noticed which way he was
making her step; her attention was now fixed on his blatant groping of her
ass, and she let him hold her tighter against his bulge.  Not because she
wanted to pursue that kind of attention from him, but she found herself at
a clear disadvantage given his complete lack of embarrassment for his
inappropriate condition.  His confidence was formidable indeed, and his
implied carnal interest in her was as flattering as it was harrowing.  For
the first time all night her body was heated above a comfortable
temperature.

   She looked up at the man who held her trembling body so intimately.  His
approving smile was now replaced with a predatory smirk, but Stephanie
remained caught up in his spell.  That ominous tickle was now a demanding
urge; her vagina was complying with the implied surrender of her role in
the dance.  She endured the palpitations that accompanied her arousal, and
then grimaced when she was pushed back through those initial steps of the
dance one last time.  Her movements were now oiled by a slickness between
her thighs, making her feel dirty and uncomfortable.

   Now who is in an inappropriate condition?

   When they once more stood together in promenade position, his hand
brushed back up to her lower back, but he brought his face down closer to
hers than on previous iterations.

   "I know your secret, my pretty little witch," he whispered to her. 
Stephanie stared up into cold dark eyes, and though she seemed to have no
voice, she knew that her fear and her desire would be plain upon her face.
He ignored her disquiet, her apprehension, and peered over the bare skin of
her back, and down to where he still held her fast.  "You don't need to be
embarrassed.  But I know you aren't wearing any panties."