The Society – Party Crashers

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WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life.

If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.

Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2013 by The Technician ( [email protected]. )

Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden.

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“Yvonne, I’m bored,” whined Yvette. “Mother insists that we stay here on the estate during our summer holiday, but there is absolutely nothing to do out here in the middle of nowhere.” Her mouth was scrunched up in a pout and her arms were crossed before her in exasperation. “It would be different if the Lord were in residence, but it is just us and mother here in the house keeper’s cottage. There isn’t anyone at all in the manor house. The rest of the servants stay in London with the Lord, and the grounds keepers live all the way over on the other side of the estate. Besides, they are all old men. They must be at least in their thirties.”

Yvonne laughed. “We are more than halfway there already, sister. On our next birthday we will be twenty. Thirty isn’t that old.”

“Maybe that’s why mother insists that we don’t go over to the other side of the estate,” replied Yvette with a little less whine in her voice. “She never wants us to have any fun…” Then, grinning broadly with her eyes slightly sparkling, she added, “… especially not THAT kind of fun.”

“I think mother would be very surprised at how much fun we have at school,” answered Yvonne. “She probably thinks we are both still her dear sweet, twin, pre-pubescent virgins. If it weren’t for the fact that she had us, I would wonder if she knows anything at all about sex.”

“Mother will be back from her nightly inspection and cleaning soon.” said Yvette. “Keep an eye out while I check my email and messages on her computer. Hers is the only one with internet access and she won’t let us activate wi-fi on the router. There is no cell service out here so I haven’t been able to check anything for two days. I think she doesn’t want us to be able to contact any boys and let them know where we are.”

“I’ll let you know if the lights go out at the manor house.” answered Yvonne. “Then you watch while I check my accounts.”

Yvette reached over to turn on her mother’s computer, but as soon as she touched the mouse, the screen lit up. “Mom left it on!” she exclaimed. “And she is up in her email account! There is a forward here from the Lord. He says that he will not be able to be at the manor this weekend for the party and that mother is to personally extend his regrets to Squire Adamson. There is an attachment labeled ‘Invitation.’ I am going to open it and see what it is.”

When Yvette clicked on the file, a pop-up appeared saying “Password Protected File.”

“Shit!” she exclaimed. “It’s password protected.” But then another program showed a pop-up asking if it should fill in the login screen. “Mom left her password program open too. She must have already opened this because it’s filling in the password for me. I can’t believe this.”

Yvonne came over to look at the document as it opened. In very ornate script it said, “Squire Adamson, English Representative to The Inner Circle, Cordially invites all Masters and Mistresses in good standing with The Society to a weekend party at Twelve Oaks. The weekend will begin with a Masked Ball and Fancy Dress Party on Friday evening.”

In smaller, standard italic script at the bottom of the page, it added, “Only Dommes and Masseurs need worry about mask and dress. All others will be clothed appropriately to their station.”

The twins looked at each other with matching sly grins and said simultaneously “Sister, would you like to crash a party?”

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The next day, both Yvette and Yvonne complained loudly all morning about being bored. After several hours of this, their mother, predictably, sent them up to the manor house to dust. That had been her standard response to their claims of boredom since they were little girls. They always pleaded not to have to do such boring and menial work, but their mother always reminded them, “I am the Lord’s housekeeper. When you are not around, it is I who do such boring and menial work. If you can’t find something else to keep yourselves occupied, you will spare me the boredom of such menial tasks.”

Their mother had evidently never figured out that the manor house was very seldom really in need of dusting since it was closed up tightly whenever the Lord and his personal servants were away. Besides, their mother dusted everything at least once a week or so just to keep busy while the Lord was away.

What the twins actually did in the time they were alone together at the manor house was to quickly dust the entryways, and then explore the manor’s many rooms and corridors, especially the ancient attics and cellars. They had been in every room in the manor house except the Lord’s bedroom, which was always locked, and one area of the basement which appeared to have been sealed off for some reason.

As soon as their mother sent them up to the manor house, Yvonne and Yvette went directly to the attic over the north wing. It was there that they had once discovered, and many times explored, the clothes storage. At the end of the north attic, stacked against the ancient brick walls, were layer upon layer of trunks and boxes that contained “ordinary clothing” that had been put into the attic when it went out of fashion. In the center, hanging carefully on metal racks and covered in heavy linen protectors, were gowns and suits of every style dating back centuries. On shelves along the sloped area beneath the roof itself, were small boxes with shoes, hats, gloves, and even ancient looking masks from balls and parties of eras long ago. It was the perfect place to find costumes to wear to Squire Adamson’s fancy dress masked ball.

The twins tried on scores of gowns, rejecting each of them until they both selected similar gowns that were labeled on their hangers as being from the 1860’s. Both had chosen gowns in shades of blue that went well with their pale skin and light brown hair. The gowns even showed off the slight red highlights in their hair. The twins had always been thankful that their hair was not the typical British “mouse brown” with almost no highlights.

One thing that surprised the twins was that the gowns were almost skin tight and held their breasts tightly in an open top. “I’m going to have to be careful I don’t put my hands too far above my head,” giggled Yvonne. “Or I will pop at least one nipple out of this gown. There is no way that either of us can wear a bra with these. And the way the top of the dress is shaped, it is almost as if our nipples are supposed to show.

“Maybe that was the fashion back then,” answered Yvette. Then she added, “I don’t remember seeing dresses like this in my history books.”

“I do,” said Yvonne. “There were a lot of dresses back in the late 1700’s and early 1800’s where the nipples were just barely covered and even some where your boobs lay out there in the open, almost like they were on a shelf. But usually those dresses were of French design and had really wide hips or a huge booty formed by a wire cage bustle attached to a corset. I don’t remember seeing anything this straight and tight. Maybe someone was trying to create a new fashion that didn’t catch on in London so it didn’t show up in the history books.”

“I think zippers were new back then,” said Yvette, cocking her head as if trying to remember something. “Maybe a tight dress like this was a way of showing off that you could afford that cutting edge fashion technology.”

“Or maybe,” Yvonne added, “these are gowns worn by courtesans who entertained the Lords in their bedrooms rather than prim and proper ladies who got pictured in the history books.”

Yvonne slid her hands down her sides past her hips and observed, “In any case, either they had really small thongs back then or they didn’t wear anything at all under these gowns. There’s no way that you could wear a corset under this. My panty lines show up like pleats on this fabric. We are going to end up having to go totally commando for these gowns to work.”

“Like we’ve never done that before,” laughed Yvette as she set down a pair of shoes next to her gown. “We’ve got gowns, shoes, and masks. Our costumes are complete. Now our only problem is how to slip away from mother for the evening.”

“One thing at a time, dear sister,” answered Yvonne. “Let’s get these things back to the cottage and then we can plot our next move.”

When they returned to the cottage, Yvonne kept her mother distracted while Yvette sneaked two large armfuls of clothing into their bedroom and then returned to the kitchen. They were just starting to slip into the next room to come up with a plan of escape when their mother, who was preparing the evening meal, sighed loudly and said, “I am afraid I am going to have to leave you two alone for the weekend.”

The twins turned to look at her, trying not to smile – or whoop with joy. She explained, “The Lord has asked me to bring some things down to him in London on Friday and I will be gone until late Sunday afternoon. I expect that you two will be able to behave yourselves for that long.”

As usual, Yvette and Yvonne answered together, “We don’t have much choice, do we? There isn’t anywhere to get into trouble around here anyway. It will be another boring weekend, but we will behave ourselves.”

Mother smiled at her twins and they smiled back. Her smile was a mother’s smile of satisfaction that her daughters had not overly objected to being alone for the weekend. Their smile was one of anticipation of somehow slipping into a fancy dress party at the neighboring estate.

With mother gone, it was going to be easy. After all, it was a masked costume ball. How would anyone know that they were not invited guests? Their only problem now was figuring out how best to sneak into Twelve Oaks.

Later that evening the twins went to their room to plot their adventure. “I know we can get onto the grounds of Twelve Oaks through the servant’s path,” said Yvonne. “It connects the two estates. Butlers and maids and stable boys have been running back and forth for this or that since White Manor was first built. Mom has sent us over to Twelve Oaks once or twice with messages or to borrow or return something. Even though it has been a few years, I remember the path pretty well. But there is no way we can travel that path without getting the gowns dirty, and there is absolutely no way we can climb the style over the wall with those tight gowns almost hobbling us. If we wear something else and carry the gowns, then when we get there we will have to hide our extra clothing somewhere where it won’t be found by the Squire’s security people. If they patrol with dogs, they will smell our scent on the clothing and be on it like a pig on truffles.”

“The answer is obvious then, isn’t it sister? We sneak over to The Ten Oaks in our underwear and put the gowns on once we are close to the house. The back gardens will be dark. As long as we avoid the guards, no one will see us.”

“You are forgetting something, Yvette,” said Yvonne. “We won’t be wearing underwear – or anything else under those gowns. If we are carrying the gowns, then we are walking around naked.”

“Where’s your sense of adventure?” countered Yvette. “What’s the worst that can happen to us? One of the guards sees our naked bodies before they run us off. Didn’t you run alongside me on Naked Mile Night at school when we ran through the streets with nothing on but a mask over our faces. And those masks weren’t anywhere near as full and fancy as the ones we will be wearing Friday.”

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And so it was that shortly after dark on Friday night, the twins, naked except for their shoes and masks, crept from the housekeeper’s cottage toward the woods that formed the boundary between the two estates. They had turned the dresses inside out and carefully folded them so that they would not accidentally brush the outside of the fabric against something and get them dirty.

“Lucky for us there’s a moon tonight,” said Yvonne as they walked toward the towering beech trees at the edge of the woods.

“I don’t know about that,” answered Yvette.