Disclaimer: I still don't own Hey Arnold. Alright, I think there will be a large number of you who do not like this. That's ok, I didn't write it for you anyway. I wrote it for me, and for those who would like it or want to be, I don't know, disturbed maybe. Read, Review, and Spread the word.

~O~

You Are Affectionately Invited

To Attend This Year's

- Midsummer Commemoration -

Nightfall At The Manor

Dress As Expected

~O~

Arnold looked at the invitation on Helga's desk in confusion. A party? Where? What was expected? What was the Manor? Just who the hell was throwing this shindig? And why in the hell was his girlfriend invited?

"Hey Football Head, whatcha lookin at?" Helga's voice entered his ear, and he turned to find her standing in all her naked glory, still slightly wet from the shower she just took. Arnold smiled, and held up the invitation.

"What's with the invite?" he tried to sound casual, but she caught the distrustful hint in his voice. With her own soft, although somewhat guarded smile, she took the exquisite stationary from his hand to place it back on her desk.

"It's just a party a friend of mine is hosting, Football Head." She tried to assuage while pulling on a pair of black panties and a white tank top. Arnold couldn't help but smile at how she loved wearing contrasting colors, and how even in this heat she hated to sleep naked. As she turned on the many fans scattered around their bedroom, Arnold took another look at the invitation.

"So, where's the Manor?" he asked nonchalantly, rereading the paper again and again, hoping for any answer his girlfriend would refuse.

"On the outskirts of the city, up on a hill." She replied just as casually while opening a window to help the air circulate. Arnold nodded, but before he could ask another question, Helga cut him off.

"Get to the point, Football Head." She rushed while sitting on the barely covered bed, watching him with a frowned mouth but amused eyes. Arnold sighed, before joining her.

"Can I go?" he pleaded, and Helga allowed a tired breath to escape her lips.

"I don't think you'd like it, Arnold." She admitted, turning off the nightstand lamp and purging the two into darkness. They were silent for several minutes, maybe fifteen, maybe twenty, before Arnold turned to look at her.

"Why wouldn't I like it?" he asked, only to find Helga giving him a blank expression before turning onto her side, effectively shutting the conversation down.

"Go to sleep, Arnold."

But he couldn't sleep. Tomorrow was Midsummer, and Helga was going to a party she wouldn't tell him about. Well, he'd just have to go to this party.

***

"I'm sorry, Sir, but I can't let you in unless you are dressed as expected, or with an invitation."

The man denying him entry did look sorry, as if he hated turning people away. Arnold nodded, but wasn't dissuaded just yet.

"Please, my girlfriend is in there, and she wouldn't tell me anything about this party. I just want to see her and know why." The man nodded to him, while simultaneously allowed a tall woman with red hair to enter the doors.

"Well, who's your girlfriend?" he asked, and Arnold saw a glimmer of hope.

"Helga Pataki." The man gaped at him for a moment, before grinning.

"Get out! Helga huh? Well, Helga is pretty damn popular around here, so I suppose I can let you in, but you can't enter looking like that. Here, follow me and we'll get you dressed as expected." Motioning Arnold to following him, the man entered the doors, locking them once Arnold was also inside, and led him to a large coatroom. The two costumes he offered the young man made Arnold momentarily rethink what he was doing, but he had already come so far. It was now a matter of pride, and while Arnold would really rather die then be caught wearing what was required, he just couldn't admit that Helga was right.

Taking the less risqué of the two, Arnold quickly changed, before being ushered into the main ball room by the man, and given a thumbs up for luck.

And luck was one thing he needed in abundance, besides maybe balls.

Well, not balls in this dress.

***

It was a Tranny Party, a fucking Tranny Party. That being said, Arnold finally realized what the invitation meant when it said dress as expected. There were only two options: conservative drag or not-so-conservative drag. So there Arnold stood, wrapped up in black buckle dance pumps, panty hose, knee length white and black sun dress and a blonde wig; watching the interaction between the party guests in the ball room before him. Not recognizing a single face in the crowd, he slowly made his way about the room, looking at the men dressed as women, women dressed as men, and others who were clad in only corsets, panties and fuck-me pumps.

Laughter rang out, mixed with breathy moans, standard chatter, and soft music. As he looked around at the different people on the couches, he was amazed at what he found. Women on their backs, legs spread wide as men buried themselves with grunts and harsh thrusts. Men fucking other men, women fucking other women, and Arnold could only watch in sick amazement as he moved from couch to couch. Threesomes, orgies, marijuana and wine were copious, he noticed and would have continued to notice, but was stopped by a soft hand on his shoulder.

Turning, he found an older woman in gold crotch-less panties and a short red corset that stopped above her belly button and below her breasts, so her pert and hard nipples sat out proudly on display. Black garter belts connected to black panty hose that disappeared into black fuck-me pumps. To finish the look, she wore a dark purple overcoat robe piece trim with black and a wild bright green wig with vivid red lipstick. Those red lips parted with a smile, revealing white, perfectly aligned teeth and a pink tongue.

"Having a good time?" She asked in a voice that was too deep to be female, and too high to be male. Arnold was startled, but managed a slow smile.

"Uh, yeah, a very good time. I'm actually looking for my girlfriend, Helga Pataki. Do you know where she is?" he queried, and the woman's smile turned more sincere.

"Ah, you must be Arnold. How do you do? I'm Madam Red, the owner of the Manor and host of this little Party. I am glad though, that you've finally be able to attend one of my shindigs; Helga talks about you all the time." Madam Red gushed, taking Arnold by the hand and leading him towards a back door labeled 'Leisure' in elegant script that matched the invitation. The room hidden behind the door was a more calming atmosphere than what was outside, with soft jazz rock fusion flowing from the speakers and cigarette smoke wafting in the light from the overhead lamps. Beneath each light was either a poker table or a billiard table, and on the far back wall was a bar.

Arnold couldn't pick out Helga, but Madam Red seemed to find her almost immediately.

"Helga, Helga, you have a visitor." From one of the billiard tables a young man in an oversized black zuit suit straightened up. His neck length blonde hair was slicked back and he had a fedora neatly on his head. Turning around, Arnold noticed that his loose tie was white, a contrast of the black, and matched the ribbon running through the hat.

He hated to admit it, but that young man had such a sexual quality about him that even Arnold was attracted to him.

"Hey Football Head. What're you doing here?"

Arnold's head just about spun three hundred and sixty degrees when he heard the voice of his girlfriend, his Helga come out of that young man's mouth. And when he stepped into the light a bit more, Arnold realized that it was Helga, and she was that completely gorgeous man.

"I wanted to find out why I wouldn't like this party. Why didn't you tell me it was a Tranny Party?" If anyone had been offended by his categorizing of the celebration, they didn't show it. Helga smiled as she walked over to him, pool cue still in hand.

"You wouldn't have followed me if I did." She smirked, and Arnold realized too late it was a trap. Before he could even begin to chew her out, Helga sensuously began to stroke his inner thigh under the dress with her cue, noticing the erection forming quickly.

"Now follow me; I'm always the only one who doesn't get to have fun at these parties because of my loyalty to you. So tonight, you are going to make it up to me." She ordered, and it took all his concentration to nod and follow her as she led him out of the Leisure Room and back into the main hall.

In his sexual haze, Arnold never knew how they ended up on one of the many couches, his dress up around his waist shamelessly as she both sucked him into heaven and fingered him into hell. But he certainly noticed. Just like he noticed when one long and agile finger managed to hit his prostate while her tongue ran and even dipped into his slit. Just like he noticed when she unbuttoned her masculine pants and pulled them down only enough to fit around him when she was good and ready. Just like he noticed she rode him resembling a man rutting into his submitter.

She fucked him with such elegant authority. It was amazing really. Everything she did was so controlled, and everything had a specific reaction warranted from him. Her clenching made him moan, her moans made him thrust harder, her aggression made him nearly die. She was in absolute control, and he loved it.

***

Arnold awoke the next morning in their bed, Helga asleep next to him. They were both naked, and he couldn't remember why. He tried to recall what happened last night, but with his attempts he forced the few small flashes of memory away from his mind; maybe forever. Beside him Helga stirred, and he leant over to kiss her shoulder.

There it was! Another memory flash – a white and black dress. An older woman. The smell of sex. Oh god, had he cheated on her? If he had, why didn't remember? Man, why was he so stupid?!

"Hey Football Head, last night was fun, huh?" Helga's sleep heavy voice cut through his frantic thoughts, and as he caught sight of her content smile, he had Déjà vu of a feeling. Overwhelming lust and love simultaneously, just like he felt now. At his look, Helga smiled and rubbed his cheek affectionately.

"Don't sweat it, Football Head, I didn't remember my first Madam Red party either." She soothed, and Arnold comprehended that Helga must have been with him last night, so he hadn't cheated. And if he didn't remember, well, that was ok, because she did, and apparently nothing bad happened.

Arnold never really regained his memory of that night, at least not until he picked up the mail, and once again spotted that graceful script. But this time, instead of one invitation, it was two. As he read and reread over the words, his memory nearly suffocated him.

~O~

You Are Affectionately Invited

To Attend

- Madam Red's Birthday -

Nightfall At The Manor

Dress As Expected

~O~

HA