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ass. I have to admit it feels quite amazing.
    "I told you you'd like it," says Monica, as I moan more quickly, my breath getting caught in my throat as I experience sensations I've never felt before. I let the whole crowd watch as I'm violated in every way possible, and opening myself up to such vulnerability somehow fills me with a sense of power and strength. Monica’s right— surprisingly, I do like it. And I guess Mr. Morgan’s right too— great things happen when I let myself go. I bury my mouth in the pussy of the girl in front of me while I come all over the strap-on.
    And only then does Mr. Morgan step in and say, "Okay, everyone, that's enough. I think she's gotten what she came for.
     
    *              *              *
     
    The next thing I know, I'm back in Mr. Morgan's room at the Morgan Mansion, staring back at my reflection through his mirror.
    "What in the…" I hang my head, embarrassed at the things I'd done. I can't believe that Mr. Morgan witnessed it, let alone so many people, many of whom I know in real life.
    "Don't worry," Mr. Morgan reassures me. "As I promised, you're back here where you started, and no one knows about what happened in the other world. That will stay in your imagination only."
    "Thank goodness!" I sigh a huge sigh of relief. "I have no idea what I'd do if people knew that I…" I trail off, not sure how to put it.
    "If they knew that you liked to let go and enjoy yourself?" Mr. Morgan finishes my train of thought for me. "But why not? What's so wrong with that?"
    "Well…" I still don't know how to say it. "It's not as if it's acceptable to go around having sex with everyone in sight," I finally say.
    "But it's also not good to keep your true self so hidden and repressed, and to go around acting like someone you're not."
    "What do you mean?" I ask, offended. "I'm not faking anything. I really am a lawyer. I really do live in Boston."
    "But you're also from Morgansboro, just like everyone else from Morgansboro."
    "Hrmph." I have to admit he has a point. Do I really come across like such a bitch? I wonder.
    "Look, Mandy, I want you to do something for me, " says Mr. Morgan, and I raise an eyebrow at him. Haven’t I already done enough? I performed crazy sex acts on multiple people while he watched . “When you get back to Boston, I want you to be yourself. Be true to yourself and see what happens. Oh, and one other thing–"
    "Yes?" I ask, relieved that that’s all he wanted from me.
    "Don’t worry about the associate lay-offs at your firm. I let the managing partner know that you’re indispensable on my cases. "
    "Wow." I gulp back tears, incredulous that he would do such a nice thing for me. I was so worried about losing my job, and now I have that burden off my shoulders. "Thank you so much, Mr. Morgan. You have no idea how much this means to me. I’ll be forever grateful—"
    "Now get back to the party before your friends realize you're missing," he says. "And you're welcome."
    "Thank you, for everything ," I say, and I mean it. I think about how good it felt to lick a pussy while being fucked with a dildo. To let myself go in front of a crowd of people who are also enjoying themselves. To neither judge nor be judged. I wouldn't have had these experiences were it not for Mr. Morgan and his mirror.
     
    *              *              *
     
    "There you are, Hot Stuff," says Mark, as I make my way back to the dance floor, and he hands me a drink. "I've been fending off all the people who wanted to steal your cocktail."
    "Thanks for getting that," I say.
    "Yeah that was messed up, that you left me alone at the bar ordering your drink, when you're the Beer Wench!" He brazenly smacks my ass, and I jump, mad at Mr. Morgan for telling me that no one would know what I did, when right here is Mark calling me out on it. Then my face reddens as I remember that this is a costume party and that I'm dressed as a beer wench. I giggle