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Have you read Mistress Bianca’s “A kink of extreme loads, the treat required his ectoplasma” yet? It is delightful and you can catch it here.  If you missed any train stops, head back to where it all began with Ms. Kay Marie right here.

Enjoy my Halloween Blog Train Story!  You can choose to read it or listen to the audio version below.

Welcome to Mistress Laurel’s stop on the Kink or Treat Blog Train…

When midnight falls, masks vanish, and only pleasure remains.

Step inside, my sweet. The night is alive with whispers and temptation, and I’ve been waiting for you. Halloween isn’t just a time for tricks and treats — it’s a time for unveiling, surrender, and delicious transformation. Take my hand, breathe in the magic, and don’t look away once the candles start to flicker. You never know what might find you before midnight… 

The invitation didn’t arrive by mail.
It appeared — faintly glowing — across your bathroom mirror, written in curling silver script that seemed to hum against the glass.

“Kink or Treat. Midnight. Come as you are.” — L.

You tried to laugh it off as a prank, but something in the back of your mind whispered that it wasn’t. The letters pulsed once more, and before you could think twice, you were already dressing, already driving, already giving yourself to whatever waited at the end of Raven Street.

The manor loomed through the fog like a dream trying to remember itself. Its windows flickered with candlelight, and music — slow, hypnotic — drifted from somewhere deep inside. When the doors opened, there she was. Mistress Laurel.

No mask. No costume. Just power, grace, and danger wrapped in velvet and perfume. Her hair shimmered like spun gold under moonlight, and her eyes… her eyes saw too much.

“You came,” she said softly, voice rich as wine. “Most only fantasize.”

You swallowed. “What kind of party is this?”

Her lips curved into a secret smile. “The kind where truth wears lace and lies get undressed.”

She took your hand, her fingers warm and impossibly steady. The moment she touched you, the rest of the world fell away. She led you through a grand hall of masked figures — but they felt more like spirits than guests, dancing and singing in the dim light. The air shimmered around them, charged with something otherworldly.

At the end of the corridor, she stopped before a tall door carved with roses and serpents. “Every guest must choose,” she said. “Kink or treat.”

You smirked, trying to sound brave. “What’s the difference?”

Her smile deepened. “One happens to you. The other you beg for.”

She opened the door. Inside, candlelight flicked at the walls, and shadows swayed as though alive. The scent of sandalwood and something darker filled the air. You stepped in, heart pounding, and the door closed behind you with a soft click.

Mistress Laurel approached slowly, her heels whispering against the floor. “Take off your mask,” she said.

“I’m not wearing one.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Her fingers brushed your cheek. “You’ve been wearing one your whole life.”

Her touch burned — not painfully, but with something that felt like revelation. Every place her hand lingered, your pulse followed. You trembled, but it wasn’t fear. It was surrender, blooming like fire beneath your skin.

“Tell me,” she whispered, circling you, her breath ghosting over your neck, “what are you afraid of?”

You tried to answer, but words wouldn’t come. She smiled, reading your silence like scripture. “That’s what I thought.”

The candles flickered higher, their flames curling blue. The mirrors on the walls came alive — each reflection showing a different you. One kneeling. One laughing. The last one looking at her with eyes full of pure, unfiltered need.

Laurel stopped in front of you, her gaze locking on yours. “You’ve chosen,” she said simply. “You just don’t know it yet.”

Then her lips were on yours — slow, deliberate, commanding. The kiss tasted like smoke and starlight. When she pulled away, your knees gave out, and she caught you effortlessly.

“Good,” she murmured, voice velvet-soft. “Now you’re ready for your treat.”

You didn’t see the silk ropes until they wound themselves around your wrists, warm and impossibly smooth. And you didn’t hear her whisper the spell until it was already inside you, curling through your body like a secret. You only felt — the heat, the pull, the ache of giving in.

Laurel’s voice filled the room, low and certain. “This is what you came for, isn’t it? To stop pretending. To be claimed. And to be seen.”

Every word sank deeper until you were gasping, trembling, alive in a way you never had been before.

When the last candle flickered out, you felt her lips at your ear, her final whisper sealing the spell.

  “You chose both, darling. Kink and treat.”

Morning came through the manor windows. You woke wrapped in black satin, your reflection different — eyes brighter, posture looser, a faint shimmer of magic under your skin.

On the pillow beside you was a card, written in silver ink:

“The night remembers. So do I.” — Mistress Laurel

And deep inside, you knew you’d never forget her touch… or how the word Mistress now felt perfectly natural on your tongue.

Before you slip away…

Did you enjoy your little visit to the Midnight Masquerade, my darling? I do hope the night left its mark on you. The magic never truly ends here — it simply moves on, waiting for the next curious soul. So take a breath, fix your mask, and follow the glow to your next Kink or Treat adventure with Mistress Meshelle of themasturbatrix.com. I’ll be watching… and remembering. 

Until Later                                                                   

Mistress Laurel, signing off.