"Happy birthday, Laila" she said, her manicured nails wrapped around the stem of the champagne flute that she was offering to me. "It's going to be a night to remember!".
"I'll drink to that!" I said, clinking the rim of my glass on hers, looking into her eyes. Sara, my childhood friend who had stayed in touch with me all through high school and then uni, and now celebrating my 21st birthday in Barcelona with a surprise party with a twist: she had planned it, and would only tell me to be ready in a cocktail dress (blue) with a carnival mask at 9 PM, ready for anything. The limo would get us from the hotel.
Her style wasn't new to me. Although I was comfortable in life -- dad was a doctor and mum an analyst with Aster, after all -- Sara lived on another level. Yachts, vacay houses and Swiss finishing schools were her normal, as her dad was the scion of a European banking family, and we met through my dad becoming their family doctor.
Not new to me, but never ordinary. I always felt an outsider in her world, and never quite settled. Sara knew this, of course, and used it to play up her image of being the wordly one, the bad girl who knew the secrets of the adult world. Barely a year older than me, and neither of us truly adults in the world, it was an act that didn't convince me -- and I feel didn't convince Sara, either. Which only made her work harder at it.
But this birthday was going to be a special one. Graduation was barely a month ago, and both of us stood on the cusp of a new life. We had been studying a lot, and had given up a lot of invitations and opportunities for fun in the past year. My birthday, at the start of what we had always called our version of the Grand Tour, was a way of making up for lost time.
And I was beginning to wonder how Sara was planning on catching us up. Wonder -- or was it worry? The butterflies that were enjoying that Brut in my belly were hard to pin down -- either happy excitement, or nervous tension. Time would tell which it was, I thought, as I looked into her blue-green eyes.
Sara winked at me, and then pressed a button and dropped the glass between us and the chauffeur. "Are we there yet, Ridley?" She asked, and then turned to me again, hand sliding up the newly bronzed skin of my thigh as she virtually squealed in delight -- her casual cosmopolitan air momentarily forgotten in a moment of pure girlish excitement which made me really wonder what the entertainment really was going to be tonight. "We're here, Lelee! The Azure Chamber!"
The limo stopped in front of a grand, old building with an ornate entrance. The doorman opened the door for us, and we stepped out into the cool night air. The sound of music and laughter grew louder as we made our way up the stairs and into the building. Inside, the atmosphere was electric. People in masks and costumes were dancing and mingling, sipping on cocktails and champagne. Sara led me through the crowd, her warm hands on me always, on my shoulders and my hands, my arms, connecting and controlling me in the crowd. As we waited for our drinks, I couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious in my cocktail dress and mask. Sara, on the other hand, seemed completely at ease in her black lace jumpsuit and masquerade mask.
"Relax, Laila," she said, sensing my unease. "This is your night. Let loose and have fun."
I took a deep breath and let myself relax. The music was infectious, and the champagne was going to my head. I swayed to the rhythm of the music, feeling Sara's hand on my waist as she danced with me. As the night wore on, the party only got wilder. People started shedding their masks and clothes, and the atmosphere turned downright erotic. I found myself getting caught up in the moment, dancing with strangers and letting my inhibitions go. And then I felt Sara's hand slip down to my ass, squeezing it firmly. I turned to her, surprised, but she just smiled and pulled me closer.
"Let's hit the dancefloor!"
The DJ was laying down some deep and hypnotic soulful House music, and the party was building -- sweaty bodies brushing against each other, the beautiful people, all masked and all in blue accented clothing as the Azure Chamber outlined in their dress code. There were a lot of shirtless guys and bikini-topped girls in the darkened dancefloor area, and my mind began to wander into deliciously dangerous fantasies, helped along by the cocktails and the heady mix of cologne and perfumes which I was enveloped by.
We had found our group -- in the way you do at a happy party full of people your age, all dancing and drinking together. The smiles and the touching, an anonymous group of best friends who would never see each other again after the party was over, but who had an intense connection in the moment. As the night wore on, we shifted to the chill-out balcony, laying on couches and cushions, massaging each other and chatting. It was a golden moment, with me having met two guys and three other girls who had joined our group. And then, a note came out on a tray, carried by a masked waiter. I opened the card, which was addressed simply to "Lxxxx". I read: "The Electric Panthers await the pleasure of your company in the Obsidian Room.
My heart raced as I read the note, my mind racing with possibilities. Sara looked at me with a wicked grin, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
"The Obsidian Room," she whispered. "Happy birthday." Sara looked deeply into my eyes, and then leaned in and planted a kiss on my lips. She lingered there for a second, and I was keenly aware of her body against me, pert tits against mine. "This is going to be incredible."
I nodded, my body buzzing with anticipation, hearth racing from the kiss and the tension that I felt in it. I had no idea what the fuss was about this room, but I knew from Sara's kiss and her feel that things had just ramped up a notch.. We followed the waiter through a maze of corridors, the air thick with the scent of incense.
Finally, we arrived at a black door, which the waiter opened to reveal a room unlike anything I'd ever seen before. The black marble flooring gleamed in the dim light, and a hexagonal ebony dais dominated the center of the room. Red columns with gold lines rose from the floor, framing a pool in the center of the dais. And there, standing in the pool, were six men dressed in nothing but black leather pants and masks.
