The MasqueRave — Chapter 9
Chapter 9:
From Lover to Weirdo
Monica ‘Momo’ Morello | 18
Masquerave Alias: Faye
Saturday, October 1st
It’s crazy how intense MDMA makes everything feel. The chilled bottle of water that I just got from the bar by the spa feels like a block of ice in my left hand. The droplet of semen that just dripped out of my vagina and started dribbling slowly down my inner thigh feels insanely heavy and warm against my flesh, and I sense each subtle tickle as it rolls lazily toward my knee millimeter by millimeter.
Is it normal to leak baby batter this long? It’s been over an hour since he came in me… Like, it should’ve all poured out while I was riding him during round two… But it didn’t. I checked the couch when we got up and there were only a few love stains, which didn’t make sense considering how much I felt Carmelo squirt into me. And it’s been dripping out pretty much every five steps since we left the balcony… I even tried Kegeling to push out the rest while I was peeing just now and barely anything came out… Am I just that tight? The thought makes me giggle.
Even though I desperately want to sit on the steps and wait, I’d rather not have to worry about flashing my coochie to the crowd ahead. So, I lean back against the banister and sip my water while searching for the man who rocked my universe through all the nude and half-dressed drunks bustling past me.
Maybe sixty seconds later, a pit forms in my stomach from the thought that my lover’s not back yet because he used this time apart to ditch me now that he’s gotten what he wanted from me twice.
He should be back by now… Sure, I was in the bathroom for quite a bit, but it shouldn’t be taking him this long. As the thought crosses my mind, I spot Carmelo off to the left, just behind a cluster of guys and girls. Even from here, I can see the panic in his wide eyes while he weaves through the crowd and scans all the masked strangers in search of me. Seeing how distraught he is from not spotting me right away makes me smile and has my heart all aflutter. Aww. He looks absolutely terrified that he can’t find me. How sweet!
Tippytoeing, I raise my hand as high as I can then wave with broad passes. “Carmelo!” I call out.
A second later, his eyes lock onto me and he hurries over to me. For some reason, he doesn’t smile back when I beam at him, his eyes just remain all wide and panicked.
As the gap between us closes, I squint at him and my smile becomes more of a concerned wince. “Hey, sweet man… Why do you look like you just witnessed murder? Everything alright?”
Carmelo stops a foot away, and then he just silently stands there staring at me, his eyes darting back and forth between mine for an uncomfortable amount of time.
“Carmelo? What’s wrong?” I ask worriedly while reaching for his hand.
The moment my fingers brush his, he snatches his hand away. “Did you give me the wrong number?” barks harshly.
I snicker. “What? No! At least I don’t think I did. Why?”
He raises his arm, angling the inside of his forearm toward his face as though he doesn’t want me to see the digits I wrote there. “Tell me your number, Faye,” he demands sternly.
“Um… Okay…” I rattle off my 407 area code and then the rest of the number, speaking slowly and annunciating clearly.
His eyes damn near bulge out of his head when I finish. “Is this some kind of sick joke, Faye?”
My brows furrow as I scowl at him. “What? No… What is even the problem, Carmelo?”
He stares at me in horror, like I’ve suddenly turned into a lizard-faced alien. “It’s just… when I put your number in my phone just now… it came up as a number that I already have saved. But that’s not possible… It can’t be.”
My face goes from scrunched-up to smiling in a heartbeat. “What? No way! We know each other? Is that why I instantly felt so drawn and connected to you? Is that why you feel so familiar to me?”
He scans my face intensely. The longer he stares, the more disgusted his expression becomes. “You’re wearing contacts, aren’t you?”
I nod. “Yeah… Why? Do they look fake?”
He shakes his head. “Why the contacts?”
I shrug. “I guess I’m wearing them for the same reason we’re wearing masks?” That was intended to be a statement but it came out like a question.
Another long bout of silence follows as he examines my face. “Please—please tell me your name isn’t Monica Morello. Please tell me that this is some kind of sick fucking joke!”
Oh fuck… My eyes go wide and my heart skips a beat. “My name is Faith!” I blurt out.
“You’re lying!”
“I’m not!”
“Faith what?”
“Hanson!” I say without hesitation, trying to maintain this poker face.
Out of nowhere, he gently grabs my right arm and turns it towards him. “This scar… Tell me how you got it!”
“Umm…” I groan, eyeing him curiously. “How’d you know I have a scar there? And why do you wanna know about it?”
“Just tell me the story behind this scar!” he snaps. “Please.”
“Uh… okay then… Well, during a soccer game back in seventh-grade—” I pause as his eyes go wide again. “—I tripped over a girl from the other team and landed on my arm weird, tearing my—”
“Tendon…” Carmelo and I say at the same time.
“And you couldn’t play the rest of the season because of how long the recovery time was for the surgery…” he finishes, his jaw going slack as he releases my arm.
I squint at him, nodding. “Yeah… Wait… how do you know that? Who are you? Did we go to the same middle school?”
“Holy shit…” he mutters, quickly backing away from me like I just confessed to having Ebola, paying no mind to the drunk and high people he’s bumping into. “No… No-no… Mo—Monica—I mean, Faye—Fuck! I’m sorry but…” He shakes his head. “I can’t… I gotta go!” he slips into the crowd and hightails it toward the hallway leading to the mansion’s left wing.
“Carmelo!” I call out, chasing after him only to crash into a tall, topless ginger girl. “Sorry!” I say to her, darting into the pack of people moving in the opposite direction of me, ignoring all the boobs, boners, and bare flaccid dicks that brush me as I weave through the crowd. Everyone I pass looks at me like I’m insane. “What the fuck! Carmelo! Come back!” By the time I reach the middle of the hallway, I no longer see him through the sea of people ahead.
Just like that, he’s gone…
Just like that, I went from being head over heels and having the best night of my 18 years on this planet to feeling beyond heartbroken and more confused than I’ve ever been.
What the fuck, I think, creeping through the crowd a bit slower, my head panning left to right in a panic like a kid who lost their parents in the middle of Universal Studios—something that happened to me when I was 7. It doesn’t make sense… Why did figuring out who I was make him go from lover to weirdo like that? Even if he knew me since middle school, there was absolutely no reason for him to be disgusted by me. I wasn’t gross back then or anything.
While I had plenty of friends from kindergarten through 12th grade, I was basically a no-one amongst the student body, even when I was the top player on our middle school’s soccer team. Though I was a nerd who was far from popular, I wasn’t one of those weird kids or social outcasts who people made fun of for simply walking past their field of view. I was smackdab in the middle of the social hierarchy. Invisible. So invisible that I never got picked on. And because I never picked on anyone and was nice to everybody I interacted with during those rare instances when I wasn’t being super shy, my classmates who knew I existed often said things like, “Oh! Monica! The sweet quiet girl!” Or they knew me as “the girl with straight A’s” who they often asked for help with their math and science homework. I was the girl who everyone wanted as their lab partner because it was a guaranteed A.
The only other thing I can think of that made Carmelo so revolted by my identity that he ran away without explanation is that he heard some kind of sexual rumor about me. But I doubt that. I have only given a few handjobs and BJs to the one guy who I was talking to before I started dating my first boyfriend, Dylan Porter, at the end of junior year. And because Dylan was also a no-one from the same middle tier of the social hierarchy as me, people didn’t really talk about us being together until we broke up. As far as I know, there were never any rumors about me being a slut or anything throughout middle school or high school.
I knew swapping contact info would be a bad idea, I think as I step back out into the backyard, scanning the venue like a cop from a procedural TV drama. It would’ve sucked leaving here and never seeing each other again, but at least I’d always hold the memory of tonight in my heart as a magical fantasy. I could’ve left here with hope that we’d one day meet again and end up together. But instead, I’ll be leaving here with an ache in my heart. And worst of all, I’ll have to leave MasqueRave wondering for the rest of my life why Carmelo freaked out and ran off like that… Unless I find him… If I can’t find him tonight, I’ll keep coming to these MasqueRaves until I do… Because I can’t go my whole life without an explanation. I gave my body to him when he knows I don’t give myself to anyone—he finished inside of me, albeit accidentally—so he owes me an answer at the very least.
I’m not entirely sure how much time has passed since I’ve begun obsessively wandering around in search of Carmelo, but I do know that I’ve done five full, clockwise laps from the foyer to the backyard and back to the grand staircase before wandering around upstairs only to venture back to the first floor to start again. And despite Carmelo’s warning to avoid getting drunk while on molly, I’ve downed two very strong Long Island Iced Teas between the start of my second lap and this one. Because I’m anxious and distraught and needed something to take the edge off.
Upon reaching the bottom of the stairs for the fifth time, I once again hang a right, sucking up the last bit of my drink through the straw while heading toward the mansion’s left wing so I can being lap six. Partway to the living room, I abruptly stop to avoid crashing into the blonde girl that just stumbled out of the bathroom, missing her by mere inches. As her gorgeous, pink-haired friend slinks an arm around her and steers her around me, I do a double-take at the girl in the black lingerie with the black bunny mask who’s scooting past them into the bathroom.
“Ce—Lola!” I blurt out, sticking my hand out in front of her face to get her attention.
CeCe’s half-open eyes widen as she brings her chin to her neck and leans away. The moment her glassy eyes wander from my hand to my face, she smiles brightly. “Momo!” she cheers as she throws herself against me, wrapping her arms tightly around my body. “Whoops! I mean, Faye!”
“I’ve been looking for you forever!” I squeal, squeezing her tightly while we rock side-to-side in the doorway.
“I’ve been looking for you too!” CeCe pulls away urgently, grabs my hand, and then tugs me into the half-bathroom. “I gotta pee real bad, so come in with me!”
“Kay!” I shout, pulling the door in behind us and locking it.
This half-bathroom, like the only other restroom I’ve been inside tonight, is lit by a blacklight. So, as CeCe turns to me and backs up to the toilet with a grin, the only parts of her body my eyes focus on are the patches of skin with glowing stains. My gaze wanders from the splatter marks on her nose and cheeks to her lips which appear to be coated in glow-in-the-dark lipstick. There are also radiant streaks running down the corners of her mouth to her chin like warpaint made from lightning bugs. Then, curiosity compels me to look down at the exposed flesh between her legs where glowing dried lines run from her crotch down to her calves. Not only are there dried cum stains, but there are fresh globs of glistening fluorescent goo currently racing down towards her knees—luminescent beads are dripping out of her coochie during her walk to the toilet.
“Holy crap, CeCe!” I blurt out, grinning. “It looks like a forest-full of lightning bugs exploded between your legs!”
She cracks up as her ass crashes onto the toilet seat. “What can I say? I’ve been busy!” She doubles over and continues cackling, her pee blasting the water in spurts that intensify with each laugh.
“Clearly!” I shout, turning to the mirror and staring at the glowing streak of dried baby batter that dribbled down the right side of my chin. Blacklights in the bathroom are clearly some kind of cruel MasqueRave joke… “How many guys did you hook up with for you to be glowing so much?”
“By my count…” CeCe says, her words trailing off as she looks up to the left. “I think I’m at twenty—”
My head snaps toward her. “Twenty different guys?”
“You didn’t let me finish… I think I’m at twenty creampies, I swallowed maybe a dozen loads, and one guy splattered my face.”
“Geezus, girl… You really weren’t joking about taking as many STD-free hunks as you could handle, were you?” I snicker nervously through a wince.
“Nope! Definitely wasn’t a joke! Honestly, though, those numbers might be lower than the actual body counts because I was super drunk and rolling pretty hard by the time I went into this free-use bedroom upstairs with a group of six guys I met. Like, I was in there for a long time, and I saw more guys come in to watch at one point. And I’m pretty sure those spectators started tagging in whenever guys from the original group finished because I kept getting fucked after I heard and felt the first six guys cum, and there’s no way any of them recovered that fast. Not went several guys also finished in my mouth.”
I snicker. “Geez… Umm… but how do you not know if different guys tagged in?”
“Well, you see… I was kind of in doggy-style getting face-fucked while having my cheeks clapped from behind most of the time, so I wasn’t looking back to check,” she says, still peeing.
“Ah… I see.”
“Yeah… Plus, even when I was being taken in missionary, it was so dark in there and I was so out of it that I couldn’t tell which masked guy was sticking it in me next. Not that I minded. I never told you this, but getting passed around by, like, a dozen guys has been a secret fantasy of mine, so…” She smiles sinfully. When I finally turn to her, she looks from my face to my crotch, then her jaw drops. “Um… Momo? Are those love stains I see on your mouth and between your legs?”
Averting my gaze, I nod slowly.
She squeals, stamping her feet and shimmying on the toilet while somehow still peeing. “Yay! I’m so glad you had some fun, Momo! And I can’t fucking believe you let some random guy finish in you!”
“Yeah… that was an accident.”
“How many guys did—”
“Just one,” I blurt out, staring at myself in the mirror.
“Wait…” CeCe says while flushing the toilet, her eyes flicking back and forth between my crotch and face during the pause that follows. “One guy two times?”
“Yup…”
“Oh wow,” she says while wiping herself. “He must’ve been a pretty special guy if he got you to have sex. And you must’ve really liked him if you fucked him a second time.”
I scooch past her as she approaches the sink. “Oh, Carmelo was a pretty special guy,” I say as I lay tissue down on the toilet seat that’s glowing from who knows how many different leaked semen deposits. “Our connection was instant, like we’ve known each other for years. And he was incredibly sweet and funny and caring.” I ease down onto the toilet. “Any time we went anywhere together, he’d hold my hand. Then, after we had sex the first time, we made out and caressed each other for an hour!”
“Aww! That sounds fucking magical! Some real love story shit, girl!” she says, grinning at me. “That’s the kind of night I was hoping my innocent bestie would have!”
“It was magical…”
“Uh oh… Why’d you say that like this story doesn’t have a happy ending?” Her spaced-out, half-open eyes search mine. “Why do I feel like you’re not gonna tell me that he’s outside the bathroom waiting for you right now?”
“Because he’s not… And I don’t think I’m ever gonna see him again,” I say with a pout, my jaw trembling as my eyes begin to burn.
“Oh no… What happened, Momo?” she coos.
“Not now… I know a quiet-ish place where we can talk.”
“Okay… And I wanna know everything that happened from beginning to end! Every detail! The longer the story, the better because my coochie is super sore and needs a nice long break before I go back to playing.”
I snicker. “You’re gross.”
She grins naughtily. “I know. Why do you think I tried so hard to get into Sigma Lambda Tau?”
The balcony where me and Carmelo made love, that’s where CeCe and I have been drinking and chatting for the last hour or so. Since I couldn’t bring myself to vent to her without feeling like I was about to cry, I asked her to tell me about her night first. CeCe started with how she got creamed by two different guys on the dancefloor at the beginning of the night before she let a third bust in her on the couch. She lost it when I confessed that I witnessed the second breeding and watched her mount the third guy immediately after. Then she told me about how she ended up in the free-use bedroom on the second floor for the six-man gangbang that turned into what likely was a dozen-or-more-man train… After that, CeCe segues to the two public encounters that followed downstairs. Her story ends with some competition that she ended up in called the Hall of Glory. It was a race where the team of girls who gets all the dicks sticking through holes on their side of the hall to cum first wins a cash prize. She and her partner unfortunately lost, but she did win two free tickets to attend next year’s MasqueRave—digital tickets that were added to her account.
Not long after telling her about my night, she passed out on the couch. That was, like, three minutes ago. Now I’m starting to doze off.
The next thing I know, knocking on the glass of the balcony’s French door startles me awake. “It’s almost sun-up, ladies,” the girl in the blue neon mask says from the doorway right after I turn around to face her. “The MasqueRave is officially over.”
“What?” CeCe groans as she sits up. “Already?”
“Ugh,” I groan, holding my queasy belly as I sit up a beat later.
Neon mask girl nods. “I’m afraid so. But there’s always next year! And if you sign up for it within the next week, you get priority listing and you’re guaranteed a spot on the list!”
“Sweet! Best believe we’ll be back next year,” CeCe says to me with a smile as we rise from the couch. “Won’t we, bestie?”
I don’t have a choice but to come back next year, I think while nodding and mustering a tired smile. I gotta come back so I can find Carmelo… And I’ll keep coming back until I do…
“That’s my girl!” CeCe says, rubbing my back.
“You still drunk, or do you want me to drive?” I ask as we follow neon mask girl into the hallway.
“I’m okay!” CeCe wobbles and swerves into me a second later. “On second thought… I’ll let you drive.”
Both of us laugh tiredly.
Despite being two of the only stragglers upstairs, there are quite a few people lined up in the foyer waiting to get into their lockers. From the time we get on that line until the moment we retrieve our belongings from our lockers, I stare at every single guy who walks by in hopes that one of them will be Carmelo.
Unfortunately, I don’t see him.
I don’t see Carmelo in the foyer, I don’t see him on the way to the car, and I don’t see him walk out of the mansion while I sit behind the wheel guzzling the cold water that I grabbed from a cooler by the door on the way out.
CeCe’s palms my shoulder as I’m staring hopelessly at the mansion’s front door. “He’s probably gone already, Momo,” she whispers.
I inhale deeply, then exhale nice and slow. “Yeah… You’re probably right,” I whisper while shifting into reverse.
“You said he comes to these things every year, right?”
I nod.
“Then we’ll find him next year!”
“A year is a long time to wait to get the answers I need,” I mutter while backing out of the spot.
“Yeah, but it’ll go fast. Especially if you stick with me and keep busy until then!”
I force a tired laugh. “Yeah… I’m definitely gonna need to stay distracted for the next 364 days if I’m gonna keep all this wondering from driving me crazy.”
A preview of what's to come (Don't read the previews below if you wanna be pleasantly surprised):
Chapter 10 - The Morning After (Monica's POV) — The morning after The MasqueRave, Monica wakes up hungover and feeling the effects of a MDMA comedown. On the way back to Tallahassee, something happens that may change her life forever…
That’s the end of the free preview! If you enjoyed what you read so far and want to read the full 18-chapter story, please support our Scirotic Books and B.L. Overman by grabbing a paperback copy! Your support will help Scirotic Books and B.L. Overman to continue producing more stories like this, and it would mean the world to us.
For those of you looking for The MasqueRave on Amazon or other retailers, this banned book is too taboo for other book stores, so it’s only available through our Ingramspark eCommerce store!
Thanks!
B.L. Overman and the Scirotic Book team
Get The Paperback Using the Link Below!
The MasqueRave is TOO TABOO for Amazon & other bookstores, so it’s only available here on Scirotic.com through our IngramSpark eCommerce shop!
In case you’re worried about entering your credit card information in a non-Amazon book store, don’t be! IngramSpark is a trusted, US-based, global book distribution and wholesale company that sells independently published books on Amazon.com, Barnes & Noble, Walmart, and dozens of other online and physical bookstores—it’s how we got The Yoni Flower and the Lizzy’s Flower Glizzy paperbacks on Amazon.
If you’re a fan of B.L. Overman’s work and want to support an independent publisher instead of giving more money to the big corporations, please grab a copy of The MasqueRave using our eCommerce store via the links on this page! Your support would mean a lot to us!
