The Weekend Identity

My heels clicked loudly against the marble floor of the upscale club as I wandered and weaved through couples and groups of people socializing, flirting, touching, and dancing slowly with one another. This wasn't your typical club; this was the club for sexual sinners, for men and women who like to share, and I was there alone. My favorite thing to do after a long week of pleading cases for clients in front of a judge was slip away for the masquerade themes, the ones that allowed me to conceal my identity while I satisfied the sexual beast inside of me. She was a fierce one, difficult to satiate, and the themes that gave me the chance to let loose in open privacy were my only escapes from my dull career. I didn't have time, nor interest, in dating, so I came here for sex.

The best sex to be had was with men and women who wore masks, too. Not knowing much about one another was part of the appeal. It heightened the intimacy.

It seemed on this night that I wasn't going to find what I was looking for, and I felt disappointed. I strolled the building, winding up in the kitchen to pour myself an iced beverage. The atmosphere was unusually warm tonight, as if Hell itself had opened up and allowed its patrons time to mingle with us sexually free living souls.

I tapped my stiletto to the beat of the music booming out from the DJ booth as I sipped my lemon soda, my head tilting as I pondered where I might find my choice for the night. To be honest, not even I knew what I was looking for. I just knew my body would alert me when it was right, and it was taking an unfortunately long time to locate someone who gave me the right signals.

Cup empty, I tossed it in the trash and nodded with a smile at a few women who waved. Everyone was always friendly, especially the women. I was adorned in black lace lingerie, my curvy figure leaving little to the imagination and it made me feel particularly confident. It's one thing that has always made me enjoy women all the more: we seemed to sense that confidence (or lack thereof) and manage to comment on it in a supportive manner regardless. A single strap hung around my neck and the dress was down to my ankles, the back dipping to the very top of my backside. I wore a simple black thong without a bra, my dark brown hair falling in thick, loose ringlets from a hair clip holding it off my neck. My black lace mask curled up to my hairstyle on one side in a dramatic mockery of the presence of a feather, and my eye makeup was darkened to the point of turning me into a creature of the night.

I stepped out of the kitchen and walked toward the dance floor, considering asking the DJ to play a song of my choosing when I happened to glance to the corner in the far right area of the top floor. There sat a man in what can only be described as a mask like the Phantom of the Opera's, his body adorned in a pristine suit that came in a solid black. Not an inch of white on the silken material. His large hands were covered by black gloves.

He had a single red rose lying on the table in front of him, and I felt the pull from the very center of my being rise up like a tiger in preparation of attack. I wasn't sure of the significance of the rose, nor did I really care. I just wanted to see what he was all about.

The closer I got to him, the more compelled I felt to surrender myself. He was handsome in a way that terrified me, and I was savoring every bit of fear. It tasted like a fresh orgasm as I drew closer to him, eventually landing near his seat and awaiting some form of permission to enter his personal space.

He looked up, his eyes an unusual hazel-like shade of steel grey, but nearly undefinable as an actual color. I found myself losing my ability to maintain my strength, the person I uphold every day for my job, as his gaze made it abundantly clear that approaching him meant his will would be all. I felt okay with that.

After endless moments of staring, his hand gestured to the open seat beside his, and I felt an enormous tension un-clench as I sat where his hand had invited me to be. I breathed in and out slowly as I awaited his first move.

"Look at me."

I turned to face him fully, my legs crossed as my waist shifted to present full attention, and locked eyes once again. His head was tilted, as if studying something he might have noticed when we first locked eyes.

"What is your name?"

"Vanessa." My name danced across my red painted lips in a song-like sound, hoping he enjoyed the way I made every syllable caress his hearing over the harshness of the music and shouting in the distance. I watched him watch my lips and tongue work to provide the information he requested, and my fingertips touched my knee without my conscious permission.

"Are you here to submit, Vanessa?"

I enjoyed the way he said my name. So much so that I felt a slickness start to release between my thighs.

"I am...Sir?"

He leaned forward and dropped his tone to a whisper. "Tonight, you've met your Master."

My heart skipped several beats as every drop of blood rushed to every erogenous zone in my body. I swallowed nervously, nodded, and changed my answer.

"Yes, Master."

He stood, and I stood with him. He moved to my open, available neck and weaved a collar around it. His work was completed when two chains were linked to the collar I wore, and he simply asked, "Are you comfortable, Vanessa?"

"Yes, Master."

"Then we shall proceed downstairs. You will follow me."

We walked in unison down the spiral staircase to a large hallway with multiple doors leading to several rooms and bedrooms, all regularly reserved, cleaned, and ready for adventures like the one I knew I was on my way to having.

He lead me into a room on the right hand side and as we walked in, I wondered what option he would select. The rooms all had windows that could be left open for voyeurs, and the doors could be half-closed with a chain up for viewers or left open entirely to invite fellow players. If you preferred to have fun privately, the curtains could remain closed and the door could be closed and locked. I wondered what his selection would be, and before I could even finish the question in my head, the door snapped shut and locked.

Perfect. He wanted Vanessa all for himself, and he was going to have her.

The freshly made bed was in the far right corner, and he gestured toward it. "Lie down, please."

I moved swiftly and positioned myself on my back, my knees lowered and everything flattened for whatever he needed from me. He approached my position and lifted my knees before spreading them slowly.

"Remain like this, Vanessa."

"Yes, Master."

He proceeded to take the two chains hooked to my collar and hook them to the bars of the bed frame above my head, keeping me in position on the bed but with enough wiggle room that I didn't feel too restrained. Pausing for a moment, he seemed to decide it was fine, and he removed his mask before pulling mine carefully off of my face. I hesitated internally for a moment before deciding this was fine; we were together, alone, and I felt less worried about an audience. It didn't surprise me at all to discover that everything I saw was unspeakably handsome. He had a darkness in his eyes that felt too alluring to ignore, even with an oddly light gray tint in them.

He backed up slightly and tilted his head again, reviewing my appearance for a moment before reaching his black gloved hand behind my neck and delicately lifting the halter neck of my dress over my head. He pulled it down to expose my round, bare breasts to the cool air above us, and I took in a sharp breath of air at the comfort of the exposure he invited. His gloved hand caressed each breast individually, examining their size and glory with an almost affectionate look before giving each one a harsh kiss on the nipple. When the kiss completed each time, his lips and teeth smacked off the tip of my nipple, and I gasped in a delightful pain both times.

To my utter disappointment, he got up off the bed and walked away, sorting through a bag he had brought with him. I knew something good was coming, but I hated the waiting part. After a few seconds, he turned and brought a wireless magic wand, sitting down beside me once again and pushing my knees further apart.

"A lovely thing you are when you're submitting, Vanessa. I'd like to see how you look when you're submitting to pleasure. Would you like to show me?"

"Yes, Master, I would." I replied a little too eagerly, perhaps, but I didn't care. My adrenaline was rushing and I felt ready to orgasm in the most explosive way I ever had.

My Master for the night noticed my underwear and tilted his head again.

"I hope you're not too attached to these." As I wondered what he could possibly mean by that, I saw him withdraw a knife from a pocket and carefully ease it toward my thong. I couldn't have cared less about the underwear, luckily, and I felt the cold steel brush my skin as he sliced through the thong like chilled honey. My sexuality was peaking rapidly; I couldn't stand to think of how many more moments I'd have to wait before he directed his attention to my most sensitive spot in my private area.

As soon as my moist lips met the air, goosebumps adorned my flesh as a rush of heat grew in my dripping cavity. He watched my physical reactions as if starving, the only nourishment being everything my body did in response to him. His gloved hand stroked up and down my thigh, reaching my knee and sliding back down closer and closer to my awaiting nub peeking out between my outer labia.

From what seemed to be nowhere, a single red rose was withdrawn and utilized to tease the sensitivity of my inner thighs further. Each sensation was driving me mad, and I wanted nothing more than to meet the moment of the first touch. He was good at making me feel crazy, certainly, but I wanted more. I dared not outright ask for it, though; if he summoned me with nothing more than his presence and had me calling him Master, I knew better than to push boundaries. I was in the mood for sensual anonymity and he was providing perfectly. I could tell by the rolling drips of feminine fluid coming down the crease of where my inner thighs and cheeks met.

He brushed the petals of the flower across his own lips before placing the thorny stem between his teeth, lowering himself over my body and dropping the stem from his mouth to mine. I carefully held the stem with my own teeth as he placed his lips next to my ear.

"I'd be careful with that, gorgeous. It's beautiful but it can be painful if you don't pay attention." He nipped at my earlobe and my arousal continued to skyrocket, leaving me lost to wondering how someone could do so much without actually leading me to a climax.

His gloved hand traced around my face and around my neck, up and down my chest and around my nipples, tracing an unpredictable path over my flesh while my preparedness to orgasm started to make me feel crazy. After what felt like hours of sensuous touching, he removed his gloves and finally allowed me the sensation of his fingertips on my skin. Once we made flesh contact like this, it seemed his hand couldn't help itself as it guided itself directly to my throbbing clitoris.

He rubbed in gentle up and down stroking motions and I gasped, my entire body responding to the relief of finally having my starved button being pressed. It was never a simple task to get me to climax, but within mere minutes, my body felt the familiar rush of my orgasm climbing up to explode. The difference this time is the rush was a hundred times more intense than I've ever recalled; the heat of my sex drive was turning to lava between my legs as I gushed copious lubrication to assist his masturbation of me. My pleasure noises erupted into high pitched whimpers as I grasped at the chains that held me down and stared into his inhuman eyes. The rose was not going to hold in place much longer, and I didn't really care anymore. I hoped he wouldn't either as I opened my mouth and pushed the stem with my tongue, losing any fear of pricking myself on a thorn. My voice shook with sheer, powerful pleasure in my frantic desperation to tell my Master of my heightening pleasure.

"I'm going to come."

He stared back, the speed of his hand intensifying and it slammed into me like a pile of bricks. The orgasm was so hard, so body-shaking, my legs trembled furiously as I gasped for breath, choking out pitiful noises in an attempt to convey my delight at his skill. It wasn't going well, but at the same time, everything was going better than I ever knew it could. As my orgasm faded away, his hand pulled back and he stood abruptly, removing his clothing as I gathered myself.

I finally focused on his presence more and realized he was entirely nude, his erect penis standing thick and strong with a glistening drop of pre-cum lingering on the tip. He came back to me, carrying a blindfold and slipping it over my eyes.

"No objections, I assume?"

"No, Master."

Blackness took over my sight and I listened to him walk back to a large suitcase and rattle around in it for a couple of minutes before returning to lie on top of me. I felt him lower his warm weight on top of me carefully, the swollen head of his cock prodding teasingly as my dripping hole invited him eagerly with small responsive gushes.

"I want you to feel everything. If you cannot see, then all you can do is focus on how it feels to have me inside of you. I want your focus on that alone. Do you understand?" He stroked his thumb along my jawline as his question rolled off his tongue seductively.

"I understand."

"Good."

With that, in a single thrust, his member filled my opening so completely that I felt the pressure change how my entire internal structure felt, and pleasure erupted in every nerve ending in my soft, welcoming walls. He held himself against my cervix, allowing a small pain to escalate for a few moments before withdrawing just enough to give me relief. I exhaled heavily and unleashed a color string of profanity as I felt him enter me again, and his pace slowly increased as he grew accustomed to the feeling of me wrapped around him.

I moaned loudly, sharing with him the level of enjoyment I was experiencing with his stroking of my insides, my lubrication giving his swollen, throbbing member every opportunity to explore how warm and comfortable my gushing slit could be. My vision being cut off was enhancing everything just as he expected (and commanded) as I marveled over the slow pumping motions that allowed me the added bonus of feeling his cock swell in its own response to enjoyment.

With a quick and unexpected motion, he unhooked my chains from the bed frame and rolled me over to be on top, which I gratefully accepted as I put my hips in motion to rock forward and backward sensually with a satisfying speed. I pushed myself up and down, side to side, wanting to experience every inch of him in every way imaginable, and I felt encouraged by the moaning that began forcing its way out of his own throat. He had been very much in control but was verbally expressing the enjoyment of me owning the show for a few moments, and it was empowering.

We continued like this until I felt myself orgasm on him, at which point he gently pulled me off of him and turned me to be on my hands and knees. I dipped my back and presented myself openly, eager to feel him take power over me again, and felt surprised when the sound of a small vibrator turned on. My vision was still cut off, so I hadn't expected the introduction of a toy, but before I could begin to process what this meant I felt a strong vibration pressed against my clit.

I moaned hard, the sensation overtaking everything in me as I felt his tip slide into my pussy again, and I realized he was going to fuck me while the vibrator rocked every nerve in my clit while he did it. There was no way I was going to make it out of this session without having at least ten orgasms.

The first penetration and vibration combo orgasm began to hit me and the sensitivity that lingered from my first incredible orgasm of the night was nagging at me to stop everything. I wanted to tell him to take the vibrator off, but at the same time it felt so good I was desperate to keep going. It was the most torturous argument to have with myself, and I was loving every moment of it, so I gave into the moaning and it slowly turned into screaming as a fiery blaze of pleasure ripped out of my nub of pleasure. My body shook violently, my button wanting to absolutely burst, and I almost cried out in tears for it all to stop.

But god it felt so good.

When my orgasm finished, he didn't remove the vibrator, and I felt another climax start to build through the even more intense sensitivity from having came so fucking hard.

"I can't take this!" I shouted desperately as my body writhed in torturous enjoyment.

"I need you to keep cumming, Vanessa." He replied simply, with every bit of control in his tone, and he paused his pumping into me to lay his chest against my bare back and rub his hand across my neck passionately. His fingers laced through my hairdo and turned my head to kiss him deeply, my body relaxing as his kiss enchanted me to believe I could actually orgasm more for him. We broke the kiss and I nodded.

"Okay."

He removed the blindfold and my vision remained blurry for a few moments as he started to slide in and out of me again, keeping a steady pace as the vibrator pushed me to accept another climax approaching. I clawed at the sheets, my blood red nails digging into the fabric as hard as I could manage before the orgasm rocked my whole body and shocked me into a scream.

With this orgasm, I was squirting for the first time, and it felt like every ounce of life inside my body was being forcibly drained by a sexual vampire. I gasped, screamed again, swore, and shouted endless gratitude for this experience as my body surrendered to the overpowering sensation of orgasming like a sex goddess.

It lasted forever, and yet not long enough, until my body felt broken and lifeless beneath him. He gently turned off the vibrator, rolled me over, and got on top of me to finish off.

"The sound of your orgasm is like music, Vanessa." He spoke with conviction as he slammed into my sensitive tunnel over and over, his groaning telling me everything I needed to know about just how enjoyable hearing my orgasms were. Within minutes, he ended the session with his own explosion, his warm fluid filling my insides to the point of overflowing. He fell beside me and we panted in unison.

Monday arrived and I walked into work in my best pant suit, my lipstick bright red and my nails freshly re-done into a glittering purple gel manicure. My work heels snapped beautifully against the floor as I entered the firm I worked for and nodded my greetings to everyone while walking to my office.

My magical weekend had me floating, and after my Master for the night vanished, all I had left was a sore body, a wilting rose, and a renewed sense of power.