She said nothing. The man looked at her for a time and then he placed the card under the desk into a machine out of view and he looked down and Abby guessed he was looking at a monitor. Time seemed suspended and it felt like an age before he looked back at her. In that time all she could hear was the thudding of her heart and a voice in her head telling her to run. When the beat finally landed he reached down behind the desk and handed her the card and then he pulled out a mask. She took the items with shaking hands and he told her of the mask that she would need it. It was a Venetian design, deep gold, with an intricate pattern that extended beyond the border of the face. She put it on shakily and then the man looked at her again. “Ah,” he said. And then he escorted Abby through a pair of large wooden doors. The man in the dark livery and the plain grey mask closed the door behind her and Abby entered into a dark, dimly lit ballroom that must have been an easy 120-foot high with a large ceiling and dark hanging black silk drapes. A gathering of some a hundred and compilation fifty people all dressed in ecclesiastical costume and party dresses and tuxedos, and all sporting an array of animal heads and odd and sometimes macabre Venetian and Surrealist masks moved around and talked amongst themselves. The conversation was light and easy; people spoke of holidays and the weather and current affairs. Abby overheard a conversation by a small group about the pros and cons of a “hard Brexit.” “She needs to choose,” one of the men said. “The idea gagging of a “soft Brexit,” a deal to minimise damage to the economy by maintaining some regulatory alignment with E.U economies or a “hard Brexit,” where doggystyle she grows some fucking balls and goes for a much cleaner break.” Waiters moved through the gaps in the crowds with trays of drinks and canapés. A man with an expensive dinner jacket and a giraffe’s head played Rachmaninoff on a piano in the corner, but the giraffe’s eyes were blindfolded anal and the man underneath was playing from feel and not from sight, and the soft and resonant tones filtered through the room. Abby composed herself and then she started to move around the side of the room—observing. A man with a mask of cubes all with different faces who was stood with a lady in a short black dress and a golden face laughed as they spoke with a man with an Ox’s head and then they clocked Abby in the corner and she thought they stopped talking. She jumped as a waiter appeared next to her and handed her a threesome drink and she said a quiet thank you as she took the glass. Abby took a deep breath and then took a drink and felt herself relax just a little as the warmth of the liquid spread out into her oesophagus. She gained some composure and she breathed out. She was here for a good time and she started to sway a little to the music. In the opposite corner three men and two women looked at her pointedly and then spoke amongst themselves in hushed whisper. From the side of her a woman with an Apple in front of her face brushed passed her and nodded a greeting and looked deep into her eyes but said nothing before disappearing into the crowd. No longer feeling the need to look away, their eyes were locked together. The sexy Indian gagging teenager’s eyes squeezed shut as Julio’s hands now slid along her waist, yanking her panties down to compilation her knees. I lost track of how long that one lasted. She anal really wanted to doggystyle have sex with her brother again, but not with Molly there. He was awed by it and he tucked it back properly. “What the fuck do we do?!” One screamed at me. I was only wearing a minute bikini top and a little cover-up skirt. The pleasure swelled and swelled in me. I groaned at the delight coursing through my body. Twenty minutes later she was clean and walking out in a thin silk robe. I had the power. She groaned, and pulled herself out. “You fucked her.” I knew that if Astrid died on these sands, if she was cut to pieces before the crowd she so adored, that it would be the final straw. She hadn't often been outside, but there was a little map guiding her down a paved path, behind one of the lines of fir trees immaculately topiaried. Over four hours she lay there exhausted, getting fucked threesome by the three horny cocks, one after another or all at the same time. "Of course!" "CAN YOU LOOSEN THE ROPES A BIT MORE" Pinkie demanded. Working at home means I don’t have to shower each morning. Her knees immediately moved apart taking her legs with them, and then the fun really began. “submissive” The same can't be said about Rich though, the poor bugger. “His pleasure is your pain” he said, drawing back the loop of telephone wire ready to strike.