The Club Head, returned from her year-long sabbatical, sat in her chair in her office at the School. She had kept tabs on things over the past year, and had found things to her satisfaction. In fact, she had enjoyed her year off. It was a vital and necessary part of her refreshment, and she was ready to come back to a fresh group, and a lovely future ahead of her.

Which meant, of course, that she needed to recruit. Miranda had asked to stay on for another year, and she was willing to go with that, the young woman had a way with knives that just couldn't be faked. So she had signed off on that after a personal demonstration of her confidence in going through another year.

One down, and sitting across from her was someone she had taken an interest in and so she had scouted them out. Approached them, rather than looking for volunteers. "You want me?" that person asked as they shuffled a little on the couch.

"Yes," the Head replied, simply and with confidence. "I was there at the Halloween event last year, and I saw what you did; a certain... I won't say spark, but how you approached the event was something that I think I want on my team this year."

"You're going to have to elaborate," the person said, not quite casually, but with a degree of deliberate word choice.

"You wore a different skin," the Head stated. "You changed who you appeared to be, and acted differently enough that the person that was at that event and the person in front of me are completely different. And I want to make this clear, I want that other person. I want the mask you put on," she stated.

"Like your own mask?" they asked back, the Head's traditional identity-concealing white mask that no matter the shape, angle or other factors, prevented anyone from recognizing the person wearing it as anything other than the Head. And it was always the Head.

"In a way, yes," she replied. "That you won't be you, but that other person? That adds something to your character. You detached yourself from your role while still being in the role that makes you seem mysterious and that adds to the performance."

"I was the way I was because it doesn't really appear in nature, but only in fiction," that person pointed out. "That's what made it work."

"And what will make it work," the Head added for emphasis. "I've done this for a long time, and I know when to reach out for the impossible."

"I'm also worried about the time commitment, and someone may wonder where I go, or that other person goes after the show."

The Head nodded in understanding. "That is quite reasonable. You're not the first member of the Club who has had such issues. I can and will accommodate such things. First is that I can arrange for you to arrive at the show before, and leave after through magical means. A simple teleportation closet nearby can have you enter into it and emerge the other end at the show. And as an added bonus, you would be able to put on your mask at the same time."

She could see that it sounded appealing to the person in front of her. It really did. There was an intoxication that came from being a member of the Club, of being more and greater and freer, and she was certain to cultivate it over time. But into their hesitation, she made a half-offer. "I am going to be doing more interviews today," she said. "How about you change, and assist me in that?"

"How would I help?" And the important part was that they didn't say 'No'. She had them, it was just a matter of bringing them around to admitting it.

"Well, you would go behind there," she indicated a changing curtain that wasn't there before, "and change. Then, you would sit right back down as you would, and be my assistant."

"Assistant, or 'Assistant'?" they asked.

"Both, perhaps. Not everyone who applies has the right skills or temperment for the Club. To that end, for people not like you," she indicated the person without the mask, "a small test often separates the willing from the wanting. While I could normally do it myself, as a person in a position of leadership and power, how I interact with them in that way can be... unintuitive. Some hesitate when they otherwise wouldn't. Others are far to eager to demonstrate a degree of power over me, even if I am that power. However,"

"By having me here," they said, "I can help as more of an equal than anything else."

She smiled. "Exactly! As you may already know, but will definitely learn, presentation and appearance matter a lot. So, would you lie to help?"

They took a breath, then nodded. "Excellent," she said. "Just head around there, and come back out. Once you're comfortable, we can begin."

They stood up, and walked behind the privacy curtain, and a few moments later, with the sounds of clothes coming off, then something else, she walked back out. No, she strolled, her dark skin flawless as she emerged nude from behind the curtain and her white hair an impossible contrast. "It feels weird," she said as she sauntered over to the couch and sat down, heedless of her state of undress. "Being this again." Her voice was just as collected and measured as it was before, but now, it held a slightly more ethereal aspect to it.

"Well, if you need a moment to get used to it," the Head offered honestly, "take it."

"No, I'm good," the woman said as she sat down in the same seat she held previously. "Thought won't I need a name?"

"I have a whole rolodex of names for performers," the Head told her with a knowing grin. "Do you feel anything?"

"Well, I'm no Plain Jane," she said as she matched the Head's gaze. Despite her commentary earlier, she was absolutely comfortable as she was. "Something foreign, but not too much. It can't be a hard word."

The Head thought about it. "Perhaps... Vella? Rhymes with Bella, and we can say it's short for Velvet."

"Vehl-la," she tasted the word. "Hello, I'm Vella," she then introduced herself. "How may I serve your pleasure?" she asked, adding to her character.

The Head schooled her face into something professional. "Hello Vella, welcome to the Club. Now, I'll call in the next interviewee."

Vella nodded once, relaxed on the couch.

*  *  *

"Hey there, I'm Eden!" The young woman had a colossal amount of curly hair that rolled around her face and down her back, her face wide with a smile as she energetically greeted the Head and Vella. "I'm a magician myself," she launched into her intro, "and I want practice as a show-woman, and to get the connections when I go professional," she made her intentions clear. "Which means I need to work hard to be the best performer I can and learn all the tricks about how to run a show and everything else!"

Then, and only then, after her spiel was done, did she take a breath to catch up in her eagerness. "So, please?"

"My, you're certainly eager," the Head commented. "Many come to me for the learning of my secrets, which I don't share easy. Instead, you're here for the more mundane aspects."

Eden nodded once where she stood before the Head, her back to Vella. "Yeppers! Stage handling, contracts, setting, all that fun stuff!"

"That's actually an interesting change," the Head pondered that. "And you know what sort of show we do, right? There's a difference between what I perform and what many others would as well."

"Damn straight!" Eden said with abject confidence. "Sexy, Smexy! You do all sorts of fun things, and if that cutie-pie behind me," she indicated Vella with a toss of her thumb over her shoulder, "is any indication, you've god some great stuff lined up!"

"Well, I can't fault you for your eagerness," the Head had to say with a smile. "But you did say you are a magician yourself. How would you saw Vella there in half?"

Eden didn't look at Vella. "For the show, for funsies, or right now?"

The Head thought about that for a tilt of the head. "All three."

"In order then," Eden said professionally without losing her eagerness. "Woman like that? She doesn't want to hide anything, so I'd do a Boxless or Clearly Impossible. Let the audience watch her get a saw through her waist because that's what the guys would want. Separate her in two, and leave them wanting more of her and more magic. For fun? Oh, that's easy," she turned to Vella. "You, me, a very tight box, a lesbian makeout session and a vertical bisection by a buzzsaw," she said, drawing a line up her body. Vella responded with a raised eyebrow. "What? You're hot. Got to get as much as I can out of that. And right now?" she looked around and settled on something on the Head's desk. "I'd take that letter-opener you got there, get her to stand up, stab her in the belly button and walk around her in a circle, cutting her in half."

The Head listened intently. "Interesting. Your thoughts?" she asked Vella.

"If you don't hire her," Vella replied, "I think I would use my Club prerogative to go on a date, with a buzzsaw," she looked to Eden. "Top or Bottom?"

"Definitely a top," Eden replied with a smirk.

Vella gave an accepting nod. "Very well, the buzzsaw will drop down on our heads, rather than up between our legs." She gave a gesture to the Head to pick things up.

"You are aware that our largest event over the course of the year is our Halloween Macabre Open House, right?"

"Yeah. Not my speed or style. I'm all about the hot chicks, hot guys and hot magic, stuff like that. Blood and horror ain't my thing. But I can stomach it for one night."

The Head made a note of that. "Anything else you want to add?"

Eden thought about it. "Can we bring our own props and stuff?"

"I don't see why not. And if you do pass, then I'll be sure to oblige your goals with my Club."

"Thanks!" Eden turned back to Vella. "So, it's a date then? When?"

Vella gave Eden a thoughtful look, but the Head beat them to it. "Take ten," she said. "I'll do some paperwork, you go have some fun," she told the two of them. Vella rose and took Eden by the hand, leading her without saying anything to a side door that led to the backstage area of the Club. "Make that fifteen!" the Head called out to them. "Don't want you to rush things."

*  *  *

The more petite woman with the dyed crimson hair and blue eyes sat nervously on the couch beside the impeccable form of Vella. She glanced furtively at the nude woman as the Head stared at her. "You're not comfortable with this," the Head said. "Why are you here?"

"Ah, my name is Tracy," Tracy introduced herself. "Well, this may take some explaining."

"Go ahead," the Head offered, relenting on her stare for a little. "We have time."

"Well, I'm not a big fan of this sort of thing. Truth be told, I don't even know what it is, really. But, my fiance, he's into it, and given that he's shown an interest in things I do, it's only fair that I do the same, you know?"

"Tracy," the Head's voice was gentle and soothing, "this is a fetish club. Vella there is wearing what we are all going to end up wearing before crowds of people over the course of the year. Do you want that?"

Tracy looked at Vella, and Vella reposed with grace and poise. Tracy took a calming breath. "Maybe? No? Yes? I don't know. But he's learned about stuff I'm passionate about, and if we're going to make this work, I can't just take and not give back."

"There has to be something else," Vella said quietly and supportive. "What do you do that he took an interest in?"

"Card games," Tracy said with a little bit of meekness. "I play card games, and he's picking them up for himself."

"Magic is not Magic," the Head stated, earning a choked laugh from Tracy. "And I can't bring someone into the Club who isn't committed to it."

"But it'll get me out of my comfort zone!" Tracy pleaded. "I want to do something for him, and this is my best bet! And it's nothing I've ever done before, so I don't know what to expect and I don't have..."

"Did you look at his porn folder?" the Head asked.

"Once or twice," she admitted. "If you're asking if I saw this in there? No, I don't think so? I mean, if you want to talk to him, then he's waiting outside for me. Wanted to be supportive."

The Head made a sharp gesture at the door, and Vella stood to go to it. "What's his name?" she asked.

"Tony," she replied.

"Tony, please come in," Vella opened the door and summoned the man in question. Tony was lanky, brown hair and glasses. He was dressed casually, unlike his fiance. The Head gestured for him to take a seat, and to his credit, he didn't seem put out by Vella at all.

"Tony, thank you," the Head said. "Your fiance is applying to be a member of our Club, and given the situation, I thought it prudent to ask you about it."

"What's there to ask?" Tony asked as he sat down beside Tracy, inside their mutual space. "She wants to try out, I don't see why not."

"I will be the last person to complain about romantic relationships with members of the Club and others inside or out," the Head clarified, "but given the nature of our performances, and what we do, people in your position have, I have seen in the past, found it quite stressful."

"Oh, well, I trust her," Tony replied instantly. "I get it, I mean, I've seen one of your shows before I met her, and if she wants to strut her stuff, I'm not going to complain." He took her hand and squeezed supportively. "And yeah, some pervert like myself is going to do things with her, but I can accept that. She's coming home to me, and I'll be there for her."

The Head liked what she saw. "Still, there is a difference between saying those things, and seeing it in action," she pointed out. "I'm not a relationship counselor, but I can tell you both there is no need to go this far to prove anything."

"We're not. Proving anything," Tracy defended herself and her decision. "I want to try this out."

The Head tapped her fingers on her desk, deep in serious thought. "I have to give you a try," she said. "Vella will take you backstage, where the two of you can discuss terms and conditions you may want for the Club, I can be flexible. Once you're done, come back and we can talk more."

"Of course," Tracy agreed, and once again, Vella led them out the side door so they could discuss things in private. They came back a few minutes later, Vella now standing behind the Head, rather than sitting on the couch.

"We have a couple conditions for her to join your Club," Tony said. "First, as long as she's a member, I get a ticket to the show for me."

"Done, backstage access as well," the Head said. "Not the first time someone has asked for that. Won't be the last."

"Second," Tracy said, "If I get the after-show thing, and I entertain someone... privately, I want Tony to also win one of the other girls. It's fair that way," she said, with 'fair' being something they must have agreed to in private.

"I'm fine with that condition," Vella said. "In fact, if that does happen, and when, I claim first refusal the first time. After that, have your fun." She was serious about that.

"You sure?" Tony asked.

"Of course. Consider that it's your fetish and wants she's obliging. So in a way, you would be practicing for showing her your desires as well as her practicing for that. If you want."

"I can go with that," Tracy said, still holding Tony's hand. "We can make this work."

"I hope so," the Head warned. "Personal drama stays personal."

*  *  *

"And that's all the interviews," the Head admitted at the end of it all. "Thanks for helping."

"No problem," Vella said from her position on the couch. "It was entertaining."

The Head had to chuckle at that. "That was true. I was right in having you for the testing," she added. "It made things easier."

"Any standouts?"

"I'm still thinking. I may go with a slightly smaller Club this year, but I haven't fully decided yet. What about you? Still interested?" The Head asked a question that she already knew the answer to.

Vella nodded. "Sign me up, if you'll have me."

"I already have," the Head confirmed. "But before I get to making my decisions, there's one thing left to take care of."

"And what would that be?"

"Once you've taken that mask off, come join me back stage. You've been doing as I say all day," the Head began to strip in her office, "so I'm going to return the favor, all night."

"I'll see you soon then," Vella agreed.