Reinventing Ellie

I looked out of the car window at the imposing mansion looming before me. "I'm not so sure about this," I said.

Cherry snorted. Her beautiful features were scrunched up in a grimace, but I noticed her slightly glossy eyes, her shortness of breath and the perpetually excited smile that never seemed to leave the corners of her mouth. "You've been saying that all week," she chided, and slid her hand onto my thigh. The leather seat creaked slightly beneath her as she shifted to lean closer to me. "And yet, here you are, freshly waxed and showered. Either you are a terrible liar, or... actually, no, I just think you're a terrible liar. I bet that on the inside, you are

gagging

for what's going to happen tonight!"

She grinned and squeezed my leg, and before I had time to reply she had jumped out of the car and begun to walk. Confidently, she sauntered on her impossibly high heels up the driveway towards the door, with a strut of her ass that was sure to give our driver heart palpitations. I cast a glance at him, and gave an apologetic smile before opening the car door and slinking out to follow my friend. I needn't have bothered trying to assuage my guilt towards him, however; as could be expected, his eyes were fully focused on Cherry's attributes, and I'm not even sure he registered my presence as I joined her towards the door. No wonder, either; with her six foot model figure, the bodacious roundness of her ass and her long, black hair against caramel-brown skin, Cherry was pretty much the embodiment of male sexual fantasy come to life. Next to her, my meager 5'6 and mousy, brown hair was little more than plain, even with all of the money and product I had spent on it. Maybe that was for the best, though. Who knew what kind of attention she might draw away from me tonight? I could feel my heart thump in my throat as we made the fifty yard walk up to the door. Cold sweat, weak knees- yeah, I was nervous alright.

"I don't know what's gotten into you, babe." Cherry's luminous, purple contacts fixed me with a suspicious glare as we walked. "It's like ever since you started hooking up with that Stephen, your confidence has plummeted majorly. You're not... I mean, he's treating you right, isn't he?"

The question brought a smile to my lips, albeit a pained one. How was I supposed to explain to her what was really going on? Stephen and I had been casually dating for a few weeks, and I knew better than anyone what it was that Cherry was concerned about; my otherwise brash and outgoing nature had changed, and I had become more timid, more nervous and, well, a lot less fun to be around. I didn't blame her for suspecting something was wrong, and her concerned looking out for me warmed my heart a lot. Not everyone has a friend like Cherry. But how could I explain to her that my altered behavior both was and wasn't Stephen's fault? How could she believe me?

Oh, sure, she might say that everyone takes on certain qualities of the people they hang around, and when you've been fucking the same guy for a while, you might start liking his kind of music or watching the same shows. But there is no way I would have been able to explain to her the truth; that every time I slept with someone, part of them got transferred to me. It simply wouldn't make

sense

- not that it did to me, not

really

, not even now, after five years of going from one set of circumstances to the next. It hadn't been until I turned twenty, and spent my twentieth birthday shacked up with the lead singer of a less-than-famous pop-punk band, that it really clicked for me. Before then, my singing had been akin to the sound it makes when you whack a seal on the head with a foam hammer, awkward and a little humiliating for all parties involved. But afterwards... I woke up quite literally with a song on my lips, and wound up spending the rest of the day singing my heart out. It was such a startling transformation, and it was then, I think, that a lot of things started to make sense to me. My mood swings, my changeable nature- I don't know how or why it happens, but hey, when you're given lemons, you make lemonade, and when you're given the ability to leech the traits and abilities of those you sleep with, you... well, attend an orgy.

As I was doing tonight.

"You'd tell me if he was hurting you." Cherry made a mean face and furrowed her brows in an attempt to look intimidating. It only served to make her look prettier. "I know a guy, you know..."

"He's not," I assured her, and took her hand to squeeze it. "I promise you. And besides, it's over; I ended it a week ago. So don't worry, okay? I'm just... feeling stressed, I guess. And nervous. I've never tried this before."

I cast my gaze back up at the house before us, and swallowed hard. 'House' was probably the wrong term for it, with three stories, at least two balconies, and a garden the size of a small football field. Cherry had told me a bit about the sort of clientele that went here on the 'play nights', and from the sound of it, even the most impoverished of them was worth some four times my net worth. The only reason I was even going here was because of Cherry, and

she

was here because she knew the owner through a series of more-or-less legal business transactions about which I was blissfully ignorant.

Returning my attention to my friend, I gave her a reassuring smile. "But I think it is exactly the kind of thing I need. Cut loose a little, have some fun..."

"Fuck yes, girl!" Cherry beamed at me and slapped me teasingly on the ass. "That's the spirit! And listen, don't worry about these people, alright? Just because they're big players doesn't mean they're anything special. It's just sex in the end, right? A cock's a cock whether it has a million bucks behind it or not."

I laughed. "I guess! But a million dollars is probably required to throw this kind of lavish party."

"Meh." Cherry shrugged. "Money isn't everything. Best sex I ever had was with a dead-broke guy in a studio in Chicago."

I rolled my eyes as we made it to the door. Cherry pressed the door bell, and then hammered the knocker thrice with a giddy smile. "It's only people with money who say that money doesn't matter," I managed to snark at my affluent friend, and then the door opened, and my jaw dropped.

The immediate hallway was as lavish as you would have expected, with marble tiles and dark, lacquered wood lining every surface. A middle-aged woman in a wine-red gown and a soft smile was standing besides the door, a small bowl of masquerade-style masks in her hands, but what really caught my attention was the room immediately beyond the hallway. In it I could see large, gilded furniture, dark red drapes and a table overflowing with food and drink, around which stood a trio of aristocratic people. Soft jazz flowed from the doorway, and I could faintly hear other, slightly indecent noises coming from somewhere else in the house- or perhaps that was simply my imagination. Whatever the case, it was clear that what this house had in posh qualities from the outside, it was completely eclipsed by the inside decor. If anything, it felt like stepping into the personal boudoir of Louis XVI. Sheer imperial, French opulence.

Seemingly undaunted by the sight, Cherry swept past the woman at the door with a faint smile, her free hand plucking a pair of masks out of the bowl before dragging me along with her past a row of heavy coats and into the massive ballroom, where at least a dozen people turned their eyes towards us. Everyone, I noticed, was wearing some sort of mask, and when Cherry handed me one of the ones she had procured, I obediently put it on, unwilling to stand out more than I already was. It was, to my relief, a white and fairly plain mask, with just a small plumage of feathers across the brow and a smattering of rhinestones along the corners of the eyes. Cherry's was equally plain, but midnight blue and studded with beads like raindrops beneath the eye-holes. With the mask on, I found my sight slightly limited, but I tried to play it off, and instead timidly raised a hand to wave at the onlookers. Cherry, on the other hand, had no such reservations. She simply strode up to the table and parted the trio of people - two men, one woman - to practically shove me at them. Their faces lit up in warm smiles as she presented me as if I were a trophy, and I could hear the glee in her voice when she spoke.

"Hello, everyone! Allow me to introduce you to my good friend Ellie. She's here tonight to get over a recent, tragic breakup by having some good old-fashioned fun. We can help her with that, can't we?"

I demurred, even as the people around me nodded and murmured their assent. When Cherry grinned at me and began to pull me over to the canapes, I stopped her and leaned in to hiss in her ear.

"Why did you say that? I'm not trying to 'get over' anything!"

Cherry giggled and waved me off. "Ah, it's just banter. I'm seeding them with something to come talk to you about; that'll get you engaged with the party faster! Believe me, I had it worse when I first came here! My partner told everyone I had been hired for a film by screwing the director!"

I glared at her as she began stuffing her mouth with tiny pieces of food. Truth be told, I wasn't sure whether to be amused, mortified or simply pissed at her.

"Who was your partner back then," I asked, unable to curb my curiosity but at the same time hating myself for letting her off the hook so easily.

"Hmn?" Cherry swallowed something delicious and expensive. "Oh, never mind. Look, let me get you acquainted." She seized my shoulder, and began pointing around.

"

There

is the bathroom, in case you need to freshen up.

There

is the private rooms- no one really uses those, but if you need somewhere to change, or if you find someone to finally take that sweet little anal virginity of yours..."

She cackled as I swatted her arm, and continued:

"

This

is the main room; people relax here, talk, eat. And

there

," she pointed towards a set of French doors, from beyond which I could make out a few faint moans, "is the play room. For fuckin'. Which is why you are here tonight, babe. Okay? So quit this being-shy bullshit, and go get some strange!"

I wanted to say something, but she had already taken me by the shoulders and was marching me forcefully towards the alleged play room. Several sets of eyes followed us, but no one made comments; apparently, it was nothing new to see a shy young woman having to be pushed towards the main area of the party

Pushing open the doors, Cherry glanced around and made some wry comment that went over my head; I was too busy staring at the moving, shifting bodies splayed around me, half a dozen couples and threesomes in various state of lewd conduct. To my surprise, no one was naked, but had rather pulled up skirts or zipped down trousers to make room for the activities at hand. The lack of exposed skin made the whole thing seem slightly surreal, and were it not for the sounds, the rhythmic movements and the smell of sex wafting through the air, I might not have noticed that I was standing in the middle of an orgy. But then again, nothing about it reminded me of how I always imagined such a thing; it was all quite serene and relaxed, just bodies moving in quiet sync around one another, mouths and hands doing the bulk of the work as far as I could tell. Maybe the party hadn't gotten properly underway yet... but the couples certainly seemed to be enjoying themselves, unconcerned as they were with mine and Cherry's entrance.

"Good. Now go mingle," whispered Cherry in my ear, and her hands on my back pushed me towards a nearby couch, over the armrest of which was a middle-aged woman with her skirt hiked up far enough that the man behind her could access her backside. I stumbled in my heels and almost fell onto the cushion beside her, but the woman seemed unperturbed; rather, she simply opened her eyes and smiled at me, as if she was not in the middle of taking a hard cock from behind.

"Hello, dear," she said with a voice that reminded me of quiet afternoons at my grandparents' house as a kid, with hot tea and marmalade sandwiches and black-and-white movies on the TV. Her eyes were a warm hazel, but much of the hue was lost to the shadow of the mask she was wearing, which was a deep, verdant green and textured like crocodile hide. It was absolutely horrendous.

"I don't think I've seen you around here before. Are you new?"

I nodded and introduced myself, willing myself to ignore the steady movements of her body towards mine. The man fucking her seemed to pay me no attention, but due to the angle of her position, it was impossible for me not to stare straight down the woman's cleavage as it shook and bounced with each thrust of her partner. Husband, presumably; they seemed to be around the same age, and the casual way in which she addressed me suggested that she had felt this particular piece of hardware inside her more than once.

"Lovely," the woman chirped, and gave me a beaming smile that did nothing to alleviate the fact that her lower half were making the kind of wet, sloppy noises that only deep, balls-to-the-walls sex can achieve. I felt a clammy touch of anxiety drag across my spine, but all I could do was smile back and pretend that this was just a normal conversation. Fortunately, the woman did not seem to notice my apprehension; at least, she simply cocked her head slightly with a beatific smile, and continued with her insipid small-talk.

"So, what do you do, my dear?"

I smiled awkwardly, unable to take my eyes off of her undulating tits. "I'm in publishing," I muttered.

"Oh, marvelous!" She beamed at me and put a hand on my thigh, allowing me to gaze deep into her eyes as her cunt stretched tightly around her husband's cock. "My son recently purchased a publishing house of his own; Miregrove, I believe it was. Or.. mh. No, I must ask my husband. Oh, Irvine! Irvine, darling!"

To my surprise, the man behind her said nothing, but simply grabbed the woman's hips a little harder as he pumped himself into her. Instead, a graying gentleman in an armchair a few feet away turned his head and smiled, his kindly, brown eyes peering through a ram's head mask at us. He was, I noticed, balls deep in the mouth of a young woman, whose blonde hair flowed like a river of gold over her naked shoulders. With a tiny wave, Irvine called back: "Yes, dear?"

"I was just telling this charming young lady about Michael's new publishing house. What was the name of it again?"

"Murkroe Books." Irvine turned his attention to me, and looked as proud as any father could with his cock jammed down a college-aged woman's throat. "A great opportunity! He says they have the next thing to rival Harry Potter!"

"That's.. tremendous," I said, and tried as hard as I could to ignore the sound of flesh on flesh as the middle-aged woman next to me took a pounding to rival the beaches on D-Day. I could practically hear the slopping, soppy wet folds of her cunt gripping the man's length, and with a sudden burst of anxiety, I shot to my feet and apologized as I slinked away from the couple. Seemingly unfazed, they simply returned to their carnal activities, their sounds and moans joining with the rest of the people in the play room.

Feeling slightly light-headed, I scampered out of the room and walked over to the buffet table, where all manner of canapes and drinks vied for my attention. Cautiously, I picked up a roll of something bright pink and green, and slipped it between my lips. The taste of fresh salmon, cilantro and the crunch of cucumber instantly exploded across my tongue, and I chewed happily on the tasty morsel, allowing the flavors to distract me from the madness I had left behind. More and more, this was starting to feel like a mistake. I had lost track of Cherry practically the moment she had pushed me inside, and now I felt a nervous tugging in my stomach as I contemplated simply running from the house. I probably wouldn't get far, in my stupid, red heels and the sheer white dress, but what were my options? Go hide in the bathroom? Roam the infinitely looping rooms and halls of the mansion until I found Cherry again, and then insist that she take me home? She would kill me for being a scaredy-cat. Or at least lose all respect for me. So that was hardly a plan, either...

"Why, hello there..!"

The voice was husky, honeyed, and it drew my attention up to a tall, aristocratic-looking woman in her early 40's. Her eyes were hazel and her lips were a certain hue of scarlet that gave the impression of blood upon blood, and with her tiny, predatory smirk, I immediately knew that I was in trouble.

"Hi," I demured, but before I could make any move to extract myself from the situation, the woman had reached out and tugged my mask slightly down, while making a mocking tut with her tongue.

"Your mask is crooked, dear. And you seem to be enjoying entirely the wrong kind of treats for the theme of tonight's party. Is this really what you came all the way out here for..?"

Despite her mask, I could see one eyebrow arch sardonically, and I shook my head shamefully, trying in vain to find the proper words. The sides of her mask were adorned by black feathers, and the nose guard resembled a beak, as of a crow or a raven. With her black dress, large breasts and high cheek bones, she very much reminded me of a bird of prey... which by inference made me the prey.

I swallowed a lump and tried to regain my ability to speak. "I'm sorry," I said, perhaps a little more deferentially than I had meant, "I'm just.. a little overwhelmed, I suppose. It's my first time here.."

The woman laughed and nodded. "I could tell. Well, then, I suppose we ought to get you acquainted, hmn? Come."

She seized my wrist, and for a second I was worried she was going to drag me back to the posh swingers and their awkward, mid-sex small talk. But instead, she pulled me away from the play room in the direction that Cherry had indicated to be towards the private rooms, past an unmarked door and from there down a short hallway and into a cozy bedroom. It was dark inside, but the curtains were pulled to allow the full moon to shine down on an immaculately made queen size bed and a smattering of other expensive-looking furniture, most of which seemed like shapeless lumps in the darkness. Ushering me in and shutting the door, the woman let the moon be our only source of light, and instead walked up to drape her arms around my shoulders.

"Are you nervous?"

It was an innocent question, but the way she said it made me wonder whether I ought to be. Tentatively, I nodded.

"Yes, Ma'am..."

Her eyes narrowed slightly.

"What are you afraid I might do to you?"

"I..." I licked my lips nervously. "I don't know."

I watched as her gaze fell to my lips, and for a split-second I could see the cogs turning in her head. Then she leaned forward, hands like firm talons on my shoulders, and pressed her mouth to mine in a deep, insistent kiss. I felt myself freeze and tense up, and for a moment I feared that she would read my reluctance as a sign to stop. But she persisted, and gradually I felt my body respond to her touch, growing warm and pliable between her hands. Eagerly, I began to return the kiss, and when she pushed me backwards onto the bed, I went down willingly, feeling the breath catch in my throat as heat began to course through my body.

"Spread your legs," she commanded, and I obeyed, feeling her hands pull up my dress until my thighs were laid bare and my underwear exposed to her gaze. A faint giggle arose from her throat at the sight of the white lace panties, and then she pushed her face in between my legs, her hands drawing up my thighs as she knelt before me. I could feel her nose and tongue rub against the fabric of my panties, and the heat of her breath caressing my delicate skin. Without thinking, a soft moan escaped my lips. The woman's fingers gripped the inside of my knees, hefted them up towards my chest, and her masked eyes peeked up from over the rim of my stomach as she purred against my sex.