Stephanie Unmased

"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 Pérignon's can do about that."

"Dom Pérignon? 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.