Everyone in the Seraphim Club was hiding who they were.

From the three score or so guests who viewed the exhibits from behind their masks, to the security guards with their own masks, this time imitating fearsome oni, that patrolled the warehouse-turned-fetish art gallery, to the participants of the exhibits themselves, a dozen men and women clad in form-fitting leather catsuits and full hoods that writhed and strained helplessly in their bondage, no one was showing their true face to the world that night. Andrea Maurer was no different, and behind the beautiful white kitsune mask that concealed her aquiline features, the redhead couldn’t help but guess as to who was concealed behind the others. That couple in formal dress, chattering to each other in hushed, excited whispers as they perused the living, moaning, struggling gallery—they could have been in politics or broadcasting or high finance for all she knew, risking scandal and disgrace to indulge in their appetites. The two bound figures they were examining, a man and a woman rendered anonymous by their leather fetish gear and secured so they became a kinky parody of “American Gothic”, were they lovers, or merely fellow models brought together for the exhibition? Were they veterans of the Club, or were they only now discovering the transcendent bliss that came with bondage?

Of course, Andrea herself was not being spared from such curious examination. This was her first time attending the Seraphim Club, and more than one pair of eyes had behold to examine the beautiful redhead as she entered, taking in how her blue latex cheongsam highlighted her supple curves, how elbow-length latex gloves sheathed her lower arms and clasped tight about her slender fingers, and how the slit sides revealed long, shapely legs that ended in a pair of knee-high, stiletto-heeled boots. They noticed too the wide leather collar cinched tight about her neck with a metal ring where the leash connected, the black leather panel gag that shrouded the lower half of her face, and the stout leather cuffs keeping her wrists bound in front of her, and Andrea shuddered with delight. Between the mask and her outfit, her identity was well-hidden, and the Club’s patrons and staff seemed to respect everyone’s secrecy. But that didn’t change the fact that she was bound and gagged and helpless before a crowd of strangers, hopelessly vulnerable to the lusts of all and sundry if something ever happened to Mariam and Mistress Noriko, a notion that terrified and aroused her in equal measure. “Mmmmppggghhh…”

Warm lips were at her ear in an instant. “You feeling all right?” Mariam Kamal asked quietly, holding her lover close, and even the identical kitsune mask concealing the upper half of her face could not hide the concern in her warm brown eyes. “Want to keep going?”

“Mmmpgghh!” Andrea shouted with an emphatic nod.

The Persian beauty offered a wicked smile. “Then let’s not keep Mistress waiting, shall we?” A slight tug on the leash, and Andrea complied, obediently following her lover around the knots of patrons, each clustered about one of the Club’s many exhibits. Like her girlfriend, Mariam was clad in a cheongsam of clinging latex, this one in a glossy black, and more than a few interested glances focused on her as they passed. Andrea could hardly blame them, for Mariam was lovely, made all the more so by her quiet confidence, and as she did every time she reflected on her lover’s many virtues, Andrea considered how lucky she was that so marvellous a woman would even give her the time of day, never mind choose to be with her. Like her, Mariam kept her interest in bondage hidden from all but a chosen few, the loyal customers and hard-working staff who’d made Kamal’s Baked Goods a small business success story utterly ignorant of what the hard-working entrepreneur did in her spare time, yet if she feared discovery and the condemnation that might come with it, she hid it well.

Andrea certainly worried about it. Since joining Global Affairs Canada, she’d cultivated a reputation as a woman to be relied upon; conscientious, diligent, efficient and entirely trustworthy. She was, in short, a rising star, with good prospects for advancement, and couldn’t help but fear the consequences if they discovered her kinky hobbies. Moreover, she rather liked the idea of keeping a part of herself hidden from the world. The redhead had always been a private sort of woman, and there was something thrilling about keeping a secret… especially this one. Then again, I wonder what would happen if my bosses ever found out? Andrea mused inwardly. Perhaps turn me into the office gagslut? That prospect was far more exciting than it had any right to be, and it quickly took shape in her mind’s eye, of staggering through the carpeted halls of the office in her usual white satin blouse, black pleated leather skirt and knee-high stiletto-heeled boots, arms bound painfully behind her with rope and tape sealing her lips, while a horde of her coworkers gawked and taunted and groped her… “Mmmppggghhh…”

Another tug on the leash brought Andrea to her senses, and she looked up to see both Mariam and Mistress Noriko staring down at her. “Seems this one requires some more discipline,” Noriko Shibuya expressed in her too-perfect English, even white teeth gleaming in an amused smile. The older Japanese woman was clad in a kimono of expensive white silk, elbow-length black leather gloves and knee-high boots much like Andrea’s own, her usual garb when living her double life as a dominatrix, and as with her pupils, a white kitsune mask hid her face from the world. “I am disappointed in you, student,” she chided Mariam. “You really must keep your pet under control.”

“Oh, I do my best, Mistress,” insisted Mariam. Strong arms pulled the redhead in close, and Andrea moaned at the feel of her lover’s breath upon her neck, her cinnamon scent almost overpowering. “But she does love testing me.”

The click of high-heeled boots sounded to their right, and the trio beheld the approach of a leather-clad amazon. Of all those present inside the Seraphim Club, Mira Sobel alone did not hide who she was, her strong-boned face proud and clearly visible beneath the lights bathing the exhibits, while each of her muscled curves was highlighted by the tight-fitting leather catsuit she wore. “It’s so good to see you again, darling!” she proclaimed, giving Noriko a warm hug, before turning towards Andrea and Mariam. “Your students?”

“My very best,” Noriko declared proudly, provoking blushes from the two younger women. “You should be proud, my friend. You have truly outdone yourself with this exhibition.”

“I’m glad you think so,” said Mira, ruby lips turning up in a satisfied smile. “And what about you, my dears? Are you enjoying the Seraphim Club?”

Andrea gave a firm nod, while at her side, Mariam could hardly contain her excitement. “Oh, this place is wicked!” the Persian beauty gushed. “I keep thinking about how long it takes to set up all the exhibits. I mean, the ropework alone…”

“It’s a lot of hard work, to be sure. Have you enjoyed any in particular?”

Mariam didn’t even hesitate, gesturing towards the tableaux they stood beside. “Oh, ‘The Angel in Leather’, definitely. I don’t know, there’s just something… raw about it, the way the passion of the model comes through. Don’t you think so, babe?”

“Mmmppgghh…” Andrea grunted in agreement as she turned back to the exhibit that served as the Club’s centerpiece. Many of the Club’s fetish pieces were elaborate works involving multiple models, grand suspensions, detailed costumes to go over their bondage gear, or imitations of famous artworks. By that standard, “The Angel in Leather” was fairly minimalist, merely a slender young woman in a catsuit, leather corset, full hood and high-heeled boots, bound with a leather armbinder and full-body harness. Yet the redhead found herself utterly entranced all the same. For though the model could hide her identity thanks to the hood, there was no hiding her enjoyment of the situation. It was betrayed by the gagged moans audible above the creak of the leather, by the arch of her back as she writhed about, unable to escape, and in how the harness dug into her most sensitive areas to stoke the heat of her desire yet higher. She was so very beautiful, even in her anonymity, and in that moment, Andrea felt a strange kinship with the faceless subject. For this was a woman experiencing a revelation, one wrought of physical ecstasy rather than spiritual enlightenment, but no less powerful. Like she had all those months ago, the model had just discovered the joys of bondage, the pleasure that came with wholly submitting to someone you trusted and the strange relief of losing control, and that happiness could not be hidden by the leather that enshrouded her from head to toe.

“She’s magnificent, isn’t she?” Mira asked, before giving Andrea and Mariam another appraising look, and apparently liking what she saw. “But what about you? Are you tempted to become part of an exhibition?”

The two young women glanced at each other. “Do you often recruit models from amongst your attendees?” Mariam asked.

“In your case, why not?” demanded Mira. “You’re both very lovely and comfortable in bondage, and I could certainly design a scenario you’d both enjoy. I wouldn’t have you do it out of charity, of course. You’d be paid just like all my other models, and you’d be quite safe. As your Mistress has no doubt told you, I don’t let those in my care come to harm.”

Behind them, the Angel in Leather gave a loud cry of pleasure through her gag, the crotchstrap working its magic, and the noise sent a sympathetic rush of pleasure sliding along Andrea’s spine. “Well?” Noriko asked, bemused. “It is your choice, of course, but believe me when I say Mira is quite trustworthy. I am certain you will both have fun.”

Again, Andrea and Mariam shared a look, and there was no hiding the excitement in the Persian beauty’s brown eyes. “We’d have to discuss it,” she demurred, arms encircling her lover protectively, “but so long as we’re doing it together…”

“Mmmppgghhh…” Andrea moaned eagerly, sinking into her lover’s embrace. She could hardly refuse the temptations of bondage with Mariam, and to participate in the Club… The redhead turned back towards the Angel in Leather. I hope to see you again some day. And with luck, we will not be hidden from each other…