Stretched out before her was a lengthy, dimly lit hallway. The steady tempo of echoing footfalls drew her attention ahead as she watched Quinn hurrying around a sharp corner. Knowing it was useless to call out, Buffy gave chase. Regardless of how fast she went, she always seemed steps behind. Doubling her efforts, she quickly took the corner only to witness Quinn turning down the next hallway. Ever determined, Buffy maintained a brisk pace.
Buffy felt her frustration mounting with each glimpse of Quinn disappearing around another bend in this seemingly endless maze. Reaching the end of her tether, Buffy slowed her steps. True, it wasn’t in her nature to leave anyone behind, but this was verging on insanity. Actually, she passed sane several turns back.
In spite of Quinn’s earlier behavior, she was obviously fine now and Buffy had had about enough of playing cat and mouse. It was time to regroup; head back to the table and wait for Quinn’s return. That or maybe she’d explore Concentrico on her own, not letting tonight be a total bust.
As Buffy turned back, she heard someone calling her name. Quinn. In spite of her decision moments earlier, without hesitation she rushed toward the voice. When Buffy took the corner she fully expected another empty hallway; she did not expect to find the breathtaking circular room in its place.
Almost immediately, Buffy found herself drawn in by the welcoming earth-tone palette of rich browns and reds, elaborate Persian carpets, and soft lighting from the wrought-iron sconces. This room felt like a serene oasis within the center of the labyrinth of hallways of desultory turns and the harsh colors of black and white.
“Welcome.”
A rich honeyed voice startled Buffy and instinctually, she spun to face the owner. Standing at the entrance was a minimally dressed woman in a sheer black sheath dress that left very little to the imagination, bare feet, and adding to her mystery, she wore a simple white Columbina half-mask.
So many questions ran through Buffy’s mind, yet she said nothing. For the first time in her life, she was speechless.
“Please.”
The woman swept out one arm, directing Buffy’s attention to the center of the room – or more specifically, to the ornate dressing table laden with every womanly amenity imaginable. In spite of Buffy’s instant hesitation and suspicion, something deeper urged her to follow this woman’s silent directive and take a seat on the padded vanity bench.
Then without warning, two other women in outfits similar to the first woman emerged from the shadows. Buffy was thrown by their dramatic entrance but more so by their appearance. In addition to the sheer black sheath dresses, both women wore simple oval masks consisting of only wide eyeholes and a crude nose, leaving the rest of their featureless faces shrouded in black.
Acting as one, they moved off to each side of Buffy and started studying her with stilted bird-like movements. When they were done with their bizarre scrutiny, they methodically set to work twisting her free-flowing hair into a chignon and darkening her makeup.
With a final sweep of iridescent powder along Buffy’s throat, the black-masked attendants gently guided her to stand. Then in unison, they gave way to the white-masked woman who stepped forward bearing a floor-length black silk gown across her outstretched arms.
Buffy was briefly caught up in the moment before she felt one of the black-masked women lowering the zipper of her dress. Reflexively, Buffy jerked away and shouted “No!” causing the woman to shrink back and scurry away.
“Sorry. I mean, don’t get me wrong. All you’ve done so far is nothing short of amazing. It’s just, I can handle this part alone. Buffy awkwardly grasped the loose halves of her dress behind her back.
Appearing to act as the voice for the other two women now cowering behind her, the white-masked woman stepped forward and thrust out her dress laden arms.
“We must.”
As she spoke those two words, Buffy instinctively understood they were absolutely true.
It was simple; none of them really had a choice. Each needed to do what must be done. These women had obviously accepted their roles; now Buffy had to accept hers—entirely. With a deep, steadying breath, Buffy released her dress and lowered her hands to her sides.
Without another word between them, each woman played her part. It wasn’t long before Buffy was completely disrobed and presented with the dress at her feet. Then with their aid, she stepped into the pool of fabric and the black-masked attendants lifted the dress into place.
The dress was far more exquisite than she’d imagined. The silk enticingly hugged every curve, fitting almost as a second skin. The bateau neckline skimming her collarbone and the minimal capped sleeves equally accentuated her slender neck and counterbalanced the plunging back, resting on the curvature of her spine. Next, she was helped into two-inch stilettos and was presented the final touch—a mask.
Unlike the attendants’ ghostly or shadowy façades, Buffy’s mask was a stunning golden sun complete with nine rays jutting out along the edge. Ceremoniously, the three women placed and fitted the mask, covering Buffy’s face from the bridge of her nose to hairline and secured it behind her head with two black velvet ribbons. After a few last minute adjustments, the two black-masked women retreated, almost appearing to melt into the background as the white-masked woman returned to the entrance.
“Enjoy.” With another flourishing sweep of the woman’s arm, Buffy knew it was time. At last she was ready for whatever lay ahead. Or so she hoped.
When she exited, she expected to reenter the maze of hallways, but oddly enough, she wasn’t entirely surprised to be entering another room. However, unlike the welcoming retreat of the previous room, this black marbled room seemed cold and barren save for the small gathering of individuals.
Showtime.
Confidently, Buffy approached and intermingled among the men and women who were encircling a couple standing in front of a scarlet divan.
Buffy’s attention was immediately drawn to the couple’s dissimilar but equally elaborate full-masks: the woman’s, which was held in place by black satin ribbons, had delicate features accentuated by an intricate swirling black and white pattern. The man’s was a sinister-looking, long-beaked black leather mask, fastened to his head with thick straps and buckles.
They stood with his front flush against her back, which gave his hands reign to roam freely. The woman writhed under his exploring touch, and soon by joint efforts, her black silk dress weightlessly slid down her body and pooled at her feet. The man, remaining in control, positioned the woman on the divan, spreading her out for everyone to see. As he slowly undressed, she eagerly fondled her breasts before delving between her splayed thighs.
Just as all the others, Buffy found herself becoming lost in this sinful display. It was only when the man joined the woman, did Buffy remember her true purpose there and began intently scanning the panoply of uniquely masked patrons. When not one façade hinted to anyone’s true identity, it wasn’t long before her attention returned to the couple
Shockingly, the woman was now on all fours while the man was kneeling and taking her from behind with fierce thrusts. He had one bruising grip anchored on her hip while his other hand was fisted in her hair roughly arching her neck.
While maintaining this brutal tempo, he skillfully changed their positions by wrapping his arm tightly around her waist, sitting back on his haunches and hauling her onto his lap. With her in place, his left hand viciously grabbed her breast then moved upward and grasped her throat.
Everything about his actions was eerily familiar. Why this was, remained just out of reach; it felt like there was something keeping her mind from making the connection. Maybe she was going about this the wrong way by trying to take in everything at once. It was time for a different approach.
Buffy looked past the act itself and started noting the smallest details: the stark contrast between the woman’s black hair and pale skin, the man’s dark hair cinched at the base of his neck with a black leather hair tie and the ring on his hand wrapped around her throat.
She gathered every detail, shifting and turning each piece trying to get them to fit together. Then all at once they clicked into place and everything was crystal clear.
Sebastian
Buffy’s relief from figuring this out was short-lived when she realized regrettably who the woman was: Quinn.
Buffy was well aware of their illicit relationship, yet seeing it in the flesh was something else entirely. She knew it was seemingly pointless, but her mind flooded with questions.
Was this what Quinn was reduced to, nothing more than an object for a sadistic man’s pleasure? And even worse still, would this be her same fate?
Never
Until the bitter end, Buffy was staying in control of herself and the situation. Visibly, Quinn had given up control and in turn she’d chosen her path, ruts and all.
Buffy was lost in her own thoughts until she had an uneasy feeling of being watched. Scanning the crowd, she noticed everyone was still focused on Sebastian and Quinn. Unsure where this sensation came from, Buffy’s focus returned to the center and encountered Sebastian’s unnerving gaze.
As earlier, in spite of holding an enraptured Quinn, all his attention was on her. His eyes resembled blazing gas-lights within the holes of his mask while they pinned her down and burned straight through her. Then taking control, Sebastian’s hand released Quinn’s throat and reached out for Buffy.
“I hope your plans were to share your friend with me, my sweet…
It is a pleasure to see you again, Buffy. Will you be joining us this evening?"
Sebastian’s words echoed in her mind and shook her to the very core. Buffy knew there were dozens of ways to play this, but ultimately she had to do what needed to be done.
It was time to pay the devil his due.
With a steady breath, Buffy tried to step forward, only to be stopped by a clearly masculine presence at her back. She watched Sebastian’s eyes flashing in anger as he steadily, silently commanded Buffy to take his hand. Then upping the ante, the man behind her wrapped his arm around her waist, splaying his hand across her abdomen possessively. Buffy could tell neither man was backing down. This conflict lasted several intense moments until appearing to yield, Sebastian’s hand dropped and returned to Quinn’s throat as his thrusts intensified.
Buffy watched him taking his rage out on Quinn in an increasingly sadistic display. Buffy felt a white-hot anger burning in her belly, demanding her to stop this once and for all, her cover be damned. However, before she reacted, the slightest pressure of the man’s fingertips making small circles on her stomach instantly calmed and grounded her with familiarity.
William
Her mind raised dozens of questions, but none of them mattered. All she wanted was to thank him for saving her from Sebastian and more importantly, from what she would’ve done, all in the name of duty. Buffy placed her opposite hand over his and gently squeezed. William interlaced their fingers and with a gentle tug, pulled her around and away from the group.
When they reached a small alcove on the other side of the room, he released her hand and they now faced one another. For the first time, Buffy was able to get a good look at him. William looked stunning dressed head to toe in black, from his tailored trousers, fitted silk shirt, to his full-mask with strikingly prominent features, just like William himself. In spite of all the pleasurable distractions his presence offered, Buffy focused on the only visible part of his true face, his expressive eyes.
“William.”
He returned the greeting with a slow blink and nod.
“So I guess it’s safe to say you weren’t just trying to impress me before when you said you’d show me all Concentrico has to offer?”
He slowly shook his head, and she thought she heard a soft chuckle.
“Good. I’m ready for you to show me everything…
Tonight was strange to say the least. Never mind the endless hallways, playing dress up and voyeur to her sister detective, her conviction had faltered more than she cared to admit and she had questioned herself. However, despite all the confusion, one thing was now remarkably clear: by any means necessary she and she alone was seizing control of this situation, starting with—
…William.”
Author’s Notes:
Venetian masks have a long history. The first documentation mentioning the wearing of carnival masks was in 1268. At first it was for religious purposes, but soon it became a regular occurrence. There were restrictions: mask could only be worn during festivals from St. Steven’s Day on December 26 to midnight on Shrove Tuesday, which is the day before Ash Wednesday. Many wore these masks to hide their identities not only during the festivals but also during other times when people participated in activities that required secrecy: like voting and attending political forums. But for the most part, masks were worn by those participating in morally and socially frowned upon activities: gambling and promiscuity. When the Austrians took over Venice in 1798, they forbid the wearing of masks. It wasn’t until the 1980’s when masks started making a comeback.
This site gives you the history of the uses of masks and what some of the masks mean: http://booksasportablepiecesofthought.blogspot.com/2012/02/masquerade-venetian-carnival-and-masks.html
Columbina mask: this is the mask the white-masked woman wore http://cdn-5.create.net/siteimages/5/0/3/50308/426133/f_381746.jpg
Moretta masks (mute maid servant): these were the masks the black-masked women wore http://cdn-16.create.net/siteimages/16/2/7/162799/1580264/f_1141646.jpg
Pictures of different masks: http://www.google.com/search?q=pictures+of+venetian+masks&hl=en&sa=X&rls=com.microsoft:en-us:IE-Address&rlz=1I7ADFA_enUS489&prmd=imvns&tbm=isch&tbo=
u&source=univ&ei=2JUuUK3HPOuw0AHft4HICg&ved=0CD0QsAQ&biw=
853&bih=499
Buffy’s mask: http://www.displaycostume.com/store/files/images/large/hees_sun.jpg
Sebastian’s mask: This is called The Plague Doctor. “The striking design has a macabre history originating from 17th century French physician Charles de Lorme who adopted the mask together with other sanitary precautions while treating plague victims.” Picture here: http://www.google.com/imgres?q=pic+of+plague+doctor+masks&start=97&hl=en&sa=
X&rls=com.microsoft:en-us:IE-address&rlz=1I7ADFA_enUS489&biw=853&bih=499&tbm=
isch&prmd=imvns&tbnid=N20g1lxYNVt_uM:&imgrefurl=http://
tombanwell.blogspot.com/
2011/11/naming-contest-for-plague-doctor-mask.html&docid=VPiIkoi3O9luBM&imgurl=http://
4.bp.blogspot.com/-lHCGjLaSk38/Tq7gbcraN3I/AAAAAAAABfo/V7dQr87U_4U/s1600/
riveted-plague-doctor-bk.jpg&w=1211&h=1080&ei=x5guUKajC4OW7AHS7oDQDw&zoom=1
William’s mask was the one from the banner at the beginning of this chapter. I tried, no can do. Check out EF or email me for it. Sorry