Angel, Devil, Phantom, Fool.

"Excuse me?"

"They gave this to you at the door, right?" For a moment, his thumb traced the broach over my breast and my nipples instantly hardened.

"Yes. Is that what it means- that I'm a..."

"A first-time fool, yes. Don't worry, it'll be fun."

"What will be fun?"

But I didn't find out because we nearly collided with another couple that had stopped abruptly. And it wasn't just them- everyone in the ballroom had halted. It was like someone had pressed the pause button- violin bows hung mid-air, dancers mid-spin, fingers hovered above keys and holds became frozen in time.

"Lords and Ladies, Clowns and Columbines, the time has come for our first Hoedown of the evening," a mischievous voice announced to the motionless crowd.

I glanced around until I identified the speaker as some kind of Emcee Fool wearing a codpiece and holding a phallic gold scepter. By his side was a female co-host in a Harlequin mask and a skintight bodysuit, holding out an open velvet drawstring bag for him to pick from. The Fool reached inside, stirring his hand around and as the drumroll reached its crescendo, he produced a shiny green doubloon.

"Ah ha! Green! If you're standing on a green square, please come forward!"

Erik and I separated and looked down at our feet. Fortunately, neither of us was because I had no intention of going on stage and I didn't want him to either. A high-pitched squeal of delight rose over the general noise and then a lovely young lady sashayed forward. Several more voices announced they were on a green tile and stepped forward, followed at last by a girl who apparently had to be cajoled into stepping forward.

"Anyone else? No? Then let the games begin..."

Like everyone else, I returned my focus to the front. I leaned over to ask my dance partner if he knew what game they were about to play, but instead, my mouth just gaped open. The Fool was unveiling a set piece covered in green velvet. To my intense shock and everyone else's audible glee, it was a full-sized painting of a Joker, like one of those 'hole in the board' photo props- except the hole wasn't over the face, but over the crotch.

And as if that wasn't enough, who should be among the contestants but Whitney Everett, poised as ever as she basked in the crowd's applause. There were three other women- one in purple, one in green and one in black and white- and two men- one in a full-faced white Volto and one in a half-faced Scaramouche mask- and none of them seemed fazed by the risqué reveal.

"Oh my god, that's the girl who invited me up there, dressed like a Devil," I told Erik in a hushed voice.

"Angel and Devil- cute."

"Believe me- we didn't plan it," I muttered.

"Now, one of you lucky gentlemen will position yourself in the old glory hole thusly," and to demonstrate, the Fool stood behind the board and stuck his codpiece through. The board was angled so the person standing behind it was still partially visible. "I will then send one of these lovely young ladies to come forward," and here his co-host approached the protruding phallus with dramatic caution.

"And polish your knob with whatever method she chooses..." His voice descended into a husky growl as his assistant fell to her knees and began pantomiming a porn-style blowjob. The Fool thrust his hips wildly as if thoroughly fucking her mouth right back.

"After the time's up," the Harlequin desisted and scampered away, rubbing her jaw as if she'd strained it, before the Fool emerged. "You'll try to guess which gown just went down on the clown." And he selected his fellatrix by sliding the cock-shaped end of his scepter up between her legs. "Guess right and you win! Guess wrong, and the other gentleman takes a turn. Cum and you forfeit. Are the rules clear?"

"What do we win?" one of the men shouted.

"Well naturally," the Fool answered, wrapping his arms around all the girls at once. "To the victor goes the spoiled."

The audience seemed to approve of this prize, and the girls all blushed and smiled. It seemed as though I was the only person there shocked by the prospect of public anonymous sex. But I certainly wasn't the only one aroused by it. Everywhere I looked, hands were fondling breasts and asses, stroking bulges and reaching under skirts; lipsticked mouths kissed one another as narrowed eyes peered behind their stoic facades.

"Since there are only two of you gentlemen, a coin-toss will suffice to decide who goes first." The Harlequin produced a gold doubloon and the Fool pointed at the man who'd spoken up earlier. "Crown or Clown?"

He answered, "Crown," and the drumroll began again as his assistant flipped the coin into the air, caught it in her palm and flipped it over onto the top of her other hand.

"Clown!" she called out, and a trumpeter played the disappointing 'wah-wah' sound effect.

"Them's the breaks," the Fool muttered. "Alright- let's get ready to play 'Glory Hole Guess Who!'"

As the contestant in a hook-nosed Scaramouche mask was prepared for his grand entrance by the co-host's shiny gloved hands behind the glory-hole board, the host pulled out a ruler. Soon a fully erect cock was jutting out from the hole, and it was thick and long enough to elicit a gasp from every lady in the room and several of the men.

After measuring his length and judging it to be impressive, the Fool mused aloud, "My, my, my, I wonder which beauty is ready to handle this eight-and-a-half-inch beast?"

All four girls immediately raised their hands like they'd just been asked if they'd like to try a delicious dessert and laughter rippled through the audience. Chuckling himself, the Fool used his scepter to choose the tall, tanned brunette wearing a purple corset dress that emphasized her tiny waist and massive tits.

Taking her by the forearm, he led her forward and told her to 'assume the position'- which for her meant to fall to her knees. The Harlequin started a timer for ninety seconds and without hesitation, the girl in purple took his hardness into her hands. After stroking him firmly and with finesse, she wrapped her lips around the bulbous tip and sucked it like some kind of treat.

I'd given a couple of my boyfriends blowjobs, but I'd never found them particularly enjoyable- just an exercise in not gagging and swallowing bitter cum. But the way this girl was moaning around his meat made it obvious that the exchange of pleasure wasn't just a one-way street. My pussy clenched involuntarily as I wondered if I would be able to take such a massive member into any of my tiny holes.

When the buzzer went off, she almost seemed reluctant to stop. The Fool helped her to her feet and she returned to her original position looking considerably more flushed. Once he'd fastened his pants, the contestant came out to guess who'd just serviced his cock.

"No help from the audience, please," the Fool requested as the man examined the four girls' faces and hands for some sort of tell. After a moment of consideration, he decided on the one wearing a graphic black and white dress.

The bells on his jester's cap jingled loudly as he shook his head. "Oh no! Close- but no cigar. Now, let's see if your opponent can do any better."

And the Harlequin took the man with the white mask behind the board. I found myself wanting to know how his cock compared, and though it was slightly shorter at seven-and-a-half-inches long, it was thicker and darker, its crested tip flushed and glistening. I was so scandalized and tantalized at once that my cheeks were burning, my pussy was dripping, and my skin tingled all over.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that my Phantom partner was closely gauging my reaction but I didn't dare meet his gaze.

This time it was the girl with the Cygnus-style mask, a fan of peacock feathers coming out of one side. As if to compete with the first girl, she took as much of his fat dick into her mouth as she could every time she went down and hollowed her cheeks out every time she came up.

"Whoa-ho keep that up and we might have a forfeit on our hands!" the Fool laughed, clearly impressed by the show. "And she might have 'forfeit' all over her face..."

The minute and a half-passed orgasm free, but he too chose incorrectly and it was back to the first man. To my shameful delight, Whitney was chosen next. Not to be outdone by either of the previous contestants, she lifted her scarlet skirts to reveal her completely nude pussy, then turned so her perfectly-shaped ass was towards the board. I watched as enthralled as everyone else as she bent over, back slightly arched, spread her legs until she was perfectly positioned, then held onto her ankles while she impaled herself.

Both players cried out, "Fuck!" as they slammed together as far as the barrier between them would allow.

"Fuck indeed," murmured the Fool, fisting his codpiece lewdly while he watched.

I've watched my fair share of porn, and it was always a turn on for me to see another woman get nailed. But for it to be in person, with someone I knew, was so raw, so intense, so in-my-face that I thought I might burst into flames. I wanted so badly to touch myself, as I would have if I was alone, but I'd never had the courage to before, even in front of a lover.

As if I'd broadcasted my need, warm, cotton-covered hands wrapped around my waist and drew me into his firm torso. "Is this okay, Angel?"

"Yes, thank you," and I put my hands over his to assure Erik that his touch was welcome. "I can't believe this is actually happening. That she's up there getting..."

"Fucked?" The way he said the word gave me goosebumps.

"Yes," I breathed.

"In front of strangers?"

"Yes."

"Does that turn you on?"

"I didn't think it would but, yes, it's really turning me on."

"And is that the only thing you find arousing?" Erik asked slyly, pressing me up against him so I could feel his impressive erection.

Resisting the urge to grind my ass against his hardness, I murmured. "That's certainly another one. But I should tell you, I'm not really that kind of girl."

"What kind of girl?"

"That kind of girl," I answered, nodding towards the stage. The ninety seconds had elapsed and it was guessing time.

"Oh, you mean a slut?" he chuckled.

"No! I just mean I've never been to one of these kinds of parties before. I didn't even know that's what this was."

The man guessed incorrectly and another round began. The more I melted into Erik's warm body, the less upset I began to feel about being tricked.

"Normally I'm not either, but once or twice a year... See, the old Swamp Fox Society is all about swapping foxes- mistresses, trophy wives, daughters..."

"Daughters?" I asked with disbelief. The next hoedown decided to stick to giving a blowjob, but she began touching herself at the same time. The sounds of their mutual pleasure were making me even hotter.

"It's not my thing- but there are a few Daddy/daughter couples, or men who bring their daughters to share and share alike. Anyhow, it's usually very private, but the April Fools' Masquerade is one of their events that they like to invite guests to, partially for the anonymity. The board has ways of screening all of the potential guests first, of course, to ensure no one's under eighteen, or a whacko, and that everyone has a clean sexual history."

"Oh, that's comforting." It was more than a little weird to know that a group of strangers had done a background check on me before inviting me to a party- but it did confirm my suspicion that Whitney's invitation debacle was staged.

"It's tradition not to tell a first-timer about the Swamp Fox Society when you invite them if they don't already know- and I assume that you didn't."

"No I certainly didn't or else I wouldn't have come. I don't know why she'd play this kind of prank on me- unless she honestly thought I'd have fun..."

"And are you having fun?"

Looking up over my shoulder I said, "I'm having a tolerable time," while fluttering my feathery false eyelashes as coquettishly as possible.

"Tolerable? Oh? Is there anything I could do to make it better?"

"Yes, actually. You could start by taking your gloves off..."

At this point, the other man was being deep-throated by the busty girl in purple who'd gone first. She'd also undone her corset to free her tits, each with a triangle of untanned skin centered on her fat, rosy nipples. I vaguely wondered what they'd feel like in my hands; my mouth.

And then his bare skin made contact with mine. Hot, coarse, electric. His hands slid up my arms, over my shoulders, along the curve of my neck. One continued up to cup my face and the other down my throat. Erik's fingers lightly traced my collarbone, my jawbone, the shell of my earlobe, the valley of my cleavage and the outline of my lips.

Just this simple touch, delivered so dexterously, was enough to make me swoon. I leaned back against him and reached up under his cowl to hold onto him by his neck, lost in sensation. His lips brushed against my hair, my skin, the corner of my mouth...

Whitney came on stage again and started tit-fucking Scaramouche mask, but I was too absorbed in our own amorous embrace to pay attention to theirs.

"Look, Angel, he won," Erik said a minute later, tilting my face towards the stage, though I desperately wanted to meet his kiss instead. I could feel the reverberations of his sonorous voice throughout, making it even more difficult to open my eyes. The victor stood triumphantly and the girls were all curtsying while the audience cheered. After I clapped politely myself, I rested my hands on his.

"Have a ball, ya'll!" the Fool yelled out as the Harlequin escorted the winner and his four maidens off-stage through a velvet curtain. Once they were gone, our host gave us all a devilish grin. "There will be a brief intermission before the next round. Meanwhile, if you'd like to watch the winner enjoy his prizes- please follow me!" And with a flourish of his cock-cane, he began to usher a procession of voyeurs to a hallway behind a red curtain.

"Do you want to follow them?" he inquired.

"Yes!" I said so emphatically that he started laughing. It was gravelly and wicked and I could feel it vibrating in my sex.

Together, we went down the velvet-partitioned corridor to a dim room filled with low, backless sofas and plush cushions where other guests were making themselves comfortable. Very comfortable. The focus of everyone's attention was a large window looking into another room with a large opium bed, where the winner and his conquests were frolicking around, undressing. None of them seemed to pay any mind to their rapt audience, making me think it was a two-way mirror.

Once they'd stripped one another until they were completely naked but for their masks, the girls got in bed and began kissing and fingering each others' pussies while the masked man looked on. Soon his cock was being serviced by Whitney, who was sitting on Peacock-Girl's face, while the girl with big tits and the one in the black-and-white harlequin mask 69ed.

Speakers broadcasted their giggling, swearing and moaning into the room we were in, but those weren't the only sounds of debauchery. All around us, women were going down on men, men were undressing women, women were sitting in men's laps with their skirts lifted, slowly rocking back and forth. The smell of sex filled the air.

"You know, I don't mind if you want to mingle with the other guests. I'm not nearly as adventurous as most of the other women here," I said in a hoarse whisper, watching the man reposition Whitney at the edge of the bed on her hands and knees so he could fuck her from behind.

Her expression was almost pained when he slammed inside of her, making her dangling breasts flop around and ass ripple with each impact. Then she started eating out Peacock-Girl, who was also eating out Big-Tits while she played with Harlequin-Mask's waxed pussy.

"Do you know the difference between a tourist and an adventurer?" he asked before lightly tugging on my earlobe with his teeth.

"Tell me," I murmured helplessly.

"A tourist observes natives in their habitat and pretends to herself that she is slowly peeling back the mystery of their ways; erasing the boundaries between their cultures. An adventurer seeks strange and exotic experiences, but knows that she will never understand their customs or breach the barrier that separates their world from hers.

"You, my dear, are on an adventure as we speak. I'd like to continue taking it with you, if you don't mind that is."

"It would be my pleasure."

"I hope at some point this evening, it will be."

Erik and I watched as the man laid back on the bed to have both his cock and face mounted. Whitney and Harlequin-Mask had started preparing a strap-on. We stayed until they reconfigured themselves into another chain of mouths, pussies and phalluses. By then there were couplings and orgies going on around us and I was beginning to get restless. I either had to leave or get fucked, post haste.

Sensing my discomfort, Erik suggested we move on. As we exited, I noticed that the sign at the entrance of the corridor had the words 'Peeping Tomfoolery'. There was also a jester posted there who stopped us before we walked away.

"Your party favors, Miss," he said, handing me two more pins- one a golden treble clef, the other a window with a face peeping through the part in the curtains. I vaguely wondered how many more I would collect over the evening, and if Erik would be with me when I did.

***

As we explored the sumptuous parlors where guests were openly making out in various states of undress, I noticed that the servants in these rooms were different from the ones in the reception hall. They were all female and wore black, oval-shaped masks that seemed to be held in place with a bit, which prevented them from speaking, amongst other things. Also scattered about were stacks of towels, bowls of condoms and dental dams, bottles of lubricants and oils, and a wide variety of toys from feathers to paddles to handcuffs.

Off of the main rooms were corridors made out of hanging curtains and tapestries into various game rooms, all run by fools, jesters, harlequins and clowns. There was a sign in front of each with the name of the game: 'Master Simon Says', 'Hungman' and 'Treasure Cunt' were just a few of the suggestive titles. And roaming throughout the manor were minstrels and glee-maidens playing instruments, singing bawdy songs, or serenading lovers.

Upstairs were several rooms labeled 'Boudoir', and beneath it a spinning arrow you could point to 'Empty', 'Full' or 'The More the Merrier'. The same went for the 'Powder Rooms', which fortunately did mean restroom- some of which included a whirlpool tub or massive shower. There was also a white door bearing the legend 'Paradise' with a Pantalone-masked attendant stationed there to grant admission, like St. Peter at the Pearl-Necklace Gates.

Throughout the night, I noticed that some couples or small groups would play exclusively together, while others would trade off or pair up at random. It was made clear through signs and game hosts that forcing or attempting to force another into any act they didn't want to perform- staff included- would result in being ejected immediately, if not arrested.

This was one of the many rules in place to ensure every guest's pleasure and safety, lest their civilized affair devolve into an anonymous rape orgy- and surely there were other clubs out there for those kinds of parties.

"So what game do you want to play first?" Erik asked when we were sitting in one of the parlors, sipping champagne and 'observing the natives' as it were.

"I don't know- is 'Cat-and-Mouse' like hide-and-seek, or is it something dirty?"

"Depends on how you play hide-and-seek."

***

There were no official rules for this room, which was like a dimly lit pleasure den where you could romp around hiding and seeking (and fucking) at your leisure. There were even cubby holes to store your shoes in by the entrance. Erik waited outside a minute while I sought out a place to hide. There were canopied beds covered in fake furs, tunnels to crawl through to secret rooms, ladders to climb to lofty niches, alcoves hidden behind tapestries, mini-mazes made with silk screens.