Horse Head Mask

by Nigel

Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Mult, Consensual, Drunk/Drugged, Magic, Mind Control, Reluctant, Heterosexual, Fiction, Fairy Tale, Horror, Humor, Paranormal, Furry, non-anthro, FemaleDom, Humiliation, Orgy, Anal Sex, Cream Pie, Exhibitionism, Oral Sex, Voyeurism, Public Sex, Size, Transformation, Violent, .

Desc: Fantasy Sex Story: A man crashes a party and dons a horse head mask, thinking it will get him in with the cool crowd. It does, just not the way he expected.

The loft was on the west side of the city, in the seedier, industrial part near the tracks. That was part of the appeal, having to brave the slightly meaner streets in order to get to the best Halloween party in town. The other reason was landlords for old converted warehouses left their tenants well alone.

I couldn’t believe I’d been lucky enough to score a coveted RSVP spot -- a friend on Facebook had said they couldn’t go, and asked did anyone want the slot? I’d been on my phone when the post appeared and had immediately replied “YES”. My first post was followed by twenty others in the first 15 seconds because people didn’t even realize someone else had replied.

So I felt all the more ashamed that I was going to be best Halloween party in town without so much as a half-assed a costume -- I’d be lucky if they even let me in. I had no excuse, it’d just been a busy week and I hadn’t left any time to go shopping. Stupid, stupid.

I climbed the fire escape described in the private message I’d received an hour before, heading for the door with the lamp burnt out on the second floor, and made my way past old discarded pallets and paint buckets toward the sound of thumping music. Finally I reached the door, in front of which was a small table where some half-drunk bro was taking entry fees.

I gave him my name, and yes! I was on the list.

“No costume? That’s double, 20 bucks,” he yelled over the dance music pulsing behind him.

I nodded confidently, like that was the plan all along, and handed over a bill.

The party was just what I hoped, loud music, free flowing booze, plenty of weed, and amazing chicks. This was a crowd that had taken the Sexy Whatever costume trend to heart, and I enjoyed watching the sexy leprechauns, sexy pirates, and sexy zombies, all with tight corsets or flimsy bras. There was even a woman going as Catwoman whose costume was painted on -- literally.

I didn’t know anyone at all and tried to talk to, ok, hit on, some of the women, but it was so loud we couldn’t hear each other anyway. So for the first hour I danced and got myself pleasantly buzzed.

After a few hits and several drinks, I was feeling woozy and left the dance floor to find the toilet. There had to be at least 20 people in line and after five minutes it hadn’t moved an inch. There had to be more than one bathroom in the place. The loft was a maze of corridors and temporary walls -- during one of my awkward yelling conversations a sexy cowgirl had mentioned that they redid the interior for every party so you never knew where anything was. I figured if I saw someone moving swiftly and somewhat stiffly and followed them, there was a good chance they’d lead me to a less heavily-trafficked bathroom. If I was lucky, maybe it would be the cool-people’s bathroom and they’d be doing cooler drugs, or something. I was out of my element, you know?

I saw a sexy bunny girl moving quickly across the dance floor in my direction, so I let her pass and followed her. Her glow-in-the-dark puff of a rabbit tail was easy to follow away from the crowd and down a hallway. But then she turned one corner, then another, and then I lost her. The bathroom couldn’t be this far out of the way, I thought, so I shrugged and tried to follow the beats back to the party.

Had I come from the right hallway, or the left? In my state I wasn’t sure, and there was no one else around to follow. I tried the right, and then another right, and then had to duck under a low pipe that I’m sure I hadn’t seen before. The sound of drum beats was all around me, now, and I had no better ideas than to keep going. Finally I reached a dead end with an old, badly-fitting door that had a hand-written sign taped to it reading “KEEP OUT.”

I opened it of course, and was greeted with a closet whose floor had been cut completely out with a ladder poking up from the level beneath. Another hand-written sign on the wall pointed down: “ZOO.” My immediate biological needs were forgotten. I didn’t want to get too hopeful, but what if I wasn’t just going to find the secret bathroom, but an entire secret party? That sounded like something cool people like these would arrange. The possibility was too good to pass up so I climbed down the ladder.

The lower level was barely lit, just an old half-gone string of Christmas lights. The room was small, also seemingly a closet. I opened the door outward and nearly knocked over the girl in the sexy bunny costume.

“Oh!” she cried.

“Sorry,” I mumbled.

“That’s ok,” she said, but she touched her shoulder, testing for a bruise. She was cute and probably would have seemed even shorter were it not for her heels and bunny ears. The rabbit nose held to her face with elastic had stiff little whiskers sticking out of it. I couldn’t tell if her pony-tailed hair was died green or if that was just the light. She was busty, too, so that was a plus, and I was pretty sure she wasn’t wearing a bra. I probably spent more time looking her over than was polite, but the short shorts she was wearing made politeness difficult.

She glanced me over too, noticing the lack of costume.

“First time?” she asked.

Having sneaked into a secret party inside an exclusive party I had already scammed my way into, the opportunity to play dumb seemed like my best option: “Yes.”

“Mine too, but you don’t even have a costume! I think the extras are down that way -- I brought mine.”

She was being dismissive, but helpful. I could work with that, it was better than kicking me out. Thank goodness I’d kept it simple. “I like it! And the bathroom? I’m Tim by the way.”

“Elise. I think it’s the first door the same way. See you inside.” She gestured at the large industrial sliding door behind her. Very hip.

I thanked her and went into the dimly lit corridor. Behind me I heard the rumble of the door sliding open, then shut. I found the bathroom easily enough and took care of business. On the inside of the bathroom door was an old placard that read “Mr. Fantastic Mascots and Costumes”. It looked like it had been there forever -- the whole floor probably used to be a warehouse for the costume company.

Outside and around the corner I found a hallway lined on one side with racks and racks of costumes, and on the other with countless rubber masks. The smell of mothballs was nearly overwhelming. I had sobered up enough to remember that I had my phone, so I turned on the flash and looked at the options. The material was all old, but nothing looked too worn or falling apart. Everything looked clean enough, but I didn’t really want to think too hard about that.

After a couple minutes of looking through the costumes, I realized that they were all animal costumes. Not a single sexy pirate among them, just jumpsuits for tigers, bears, and even a bird. The masks, similarly, were all animal masks.

“Of course,” I thought, “The Zoo.”

Now you might think that I would try my damnedest to find an awesome costume, seeing as I was already clearly not worthy of this party, but the moment I set my eyes on a particular mask my lazy instinct kicked in and I knew I had to look no further: The horse head.

The horse head is the perfect lazy-dude’s costume. You’ve all seen him at parties. Don horse head. Try to drink bottled beer through horse head. Laughter ensues. Simple. Done.

I stretched the thing over my head, trying not to pass out from the rubber stink. I was going to sweat like a pig in this for sure. Or, I guess, a horse. Do horses sweat? I could barely see out of it, but well enough to find my way back to the door. I pulled the door to the side and went in to the real party.

It looked a lot like the party upstairs, only quieter. There was still music, and free flowing booze, and plenty of weed. Everywhere there were cat ears, wolf masks, and fox tails, all paired with form-fitting jumpsuits with the right shades and patterns. Elise’s costume, which I thought had been fine, was definitely nothing compared to these. If anything the girls were hotter than upstairs. Lithe bodies glided around the floor or practiced spinning their light-up hula hoops. All of the guys, mostly going as carnivores like wolves, bulls, and dogs, clung to the edges of the room with their snouts pointed in the direction of the beauties in the center.

The anonymity of the mask helped me relax and blend in. Everyone assumed I was supposed to be there, and nobody could see my face to know otherwise. After a few attempts of trying to make myself heard through the thick rubber failed, I was content to be silent and pantomime my reactions to things people said. It was a huge hit, actually, and I found a group of guys to hang out and resume getting drunk with. My hunch was correct: I quickly realized it was impossible to drink out of anything except a long-necked bottle, shoving the whole thing in the mouth of the mask until it reached my lips. When I took a swig I had to tilt my head all the way back, which made the act of drinking almost a theatrical performance. I liked it.

In the back of my mind I was wondering what all the fuss for this uber-secret party was about. I had a feeling I just had to wait. There was some electricity in the air, an anticipation that was going unfulfilled.

I spotted Elise a few times wandering around the floor, shaking her little puffball tail. I excused myself from my new buddies approached her and made a big “well what do you think?” motion. I hadn’t changed the rest of my clothes, so she knew it was me.

“They’re supposed to hand out the stuff soon,” she said.

I cocked my head: “oh?”

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