When One Day We are Gone Ch. 02

[Author's note: Cassidy Hayes, psychologist by day and mother of two, is struggling with the fragmentation of her marriage as her husband Damian cheats on her with Lily, a sexy blonde younger woman. Far from calling her husband out on his infidelity, Cassie has found herself being blackmailed by Lily into doing what the younger woman tells her. Meanwhile, Cassie is exploring a different world, having made a new friend in Madame Syn, the owner of the Lost and Found, and a highly accomplished Dominatrix.

Lily has put her in her place at the work barbeque, as Cassie is shamed in front of everyone, reminding Cassie of the consequences if she steps out of line, the threat of the video of Cassie humiliating herself that Lily took being sent to everyone she knows. Cassie needs to find some way, any way, of escaping Lily's clutches. She turns to her friend Cynthia (the formidable Madame Syn), owner and Mistress of the Lost and Found.]

---

THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS

Cassie knocked again. The morning sun was warm on her face, standing in front of the big wooden door to Billie's house. The street was quiet, all the hubbub of the daily parade of getting kids to school now finished. She closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth.

The last few days had taken their toll. Lily was becoming more domineering, more vicious, more assured. The barbeque haunted her, the feeling of everyone knowing about Damian's infidelity, the feeling of being laughed at behind her back by some of the people she'd thought of as their closest friends. Lily was engineering situations almost on demand where she could take Cassie's husband out to dinner, or back to her place, or for weekends away. Damian's excuses were by now paper-thin, but Cassie still kept up the pretence like a good little wife and didn't rock the boat.

It wasn't the threat anymore of the videos that Lily had taken appearing on the social feeds of her friends and family, the ones that showed Cassie desperate and kneeling in lingerie. Instead, it had become an automatic reaction to obey Lily, conditioned by the younger woman through punishment and reward into a set of expected behaviours. The dread of angering her, versus the relief of getting through another encounter without being forced into additional humiliation, kept Cassie in check, constantly navigating a middle path that didn't make her life any more intolerable.

She thought about her mother seeing those videos, or Billie. Having to face the people she loved and trusted after they had seen her on her knees, conquered, would destroy her life. This dreadful prospect had by now metamorphosised into a basic level of behaviour, no longer requiring conscious effort to keep her tightly under Lily's control. Even now, in the sunshine, waiting for Billie to answer the door, she relived the burning humiliation, the submission to the blonde woman who had taken away her husband and taken over her life.

Guiltily, she felt herself begin to react to the thought of it, some twisted part of her turning the trauma into something else, something darker. The memory of Lily standing over her in her own bathroom at the barbeque after fucking Cassie's husband, naked from the waist down and waiting for Cassie to lap up her own husband's cum from her waiting crotch, triggered both a powerless dread in Cassie and more and more, lately, a haunting need.

Cassie's rational side tried to analyse it, to combat its effects through her training as a psychologist. How would she advise a client if this was happening to them? How would she craft a path out of this nightmare? Then there was the other voice, quiet and steady, telling her she was going to be trapped forever, a worthless, superseded piece of Damian's past life that Lily chose to keep around for her own amusement. Cassie had seen how Lily relished it, the look of power in Lily's eyes as she fucked the husband while also enslaving the wife. Lily loved seeing Cassie suffer; she got off on it.

There was one other development, standing at her own front door after Lily had finished with her. Cassie had seen through a crack in Lily's mask at the woman underneath, a woman who was falling in love with Cassie's husband and who didn't like her position on the outside, a woman who knew what she wanted and could see that Cassie was in her way. Just for a moment, it felt like a cloud had passed in front of the sun, dropping the temperature.

The door opened.

"Hey, sorry. I was naked," Billie said.

She opened the door further, revealing a slim, tall body with a towel wrapped around her breasts.

"Sorry," Cassie replied, "I could have come later."

"No, it's me. You're on time. I just need to get my shit together. Come in."

Cassie stepped inside, following Billie as she padded in bare feet over the richly-polished wood of the hallway. Billie and Morgan had a nice house, all on one level with a wide entertaining area out the back. There was something about having an all-girl family that made a difference; Cassie was outnumbered three-to-one at home, and boys' things were everywhere.

"I was just undoing my nails," Billie laughed over her shoulder, leading Cassie into the master bedroom.

She stopped by the bed, holding her hairbrush and waiting expectantly. Cassie took the hairbrush and began brushing out her friend's long brunette hair.

"You need to get your roots done," Cassie advised.

"Tomorrow. I'm booked in for a mani-pedi and hair, before Morgan flies in. I want to reverse all this and make sure she realises what she was missing when she sees me at the airport."

Cassie curled her friend's hair up into a tight bun on top of her head.

"There, try that. How's it feel?"

"How it looks is the question," Billie said, picking up a baseball cap from the bed and carefully sliding it over her hair.

"Holding," Cassie observed.

Billie nodded and untucked the towel, exposing her naked breasts. She was wearing a set of boxer shorts and nothing else.

"Nice boobs."

"Worth every penny," Billie laughed.

It was a standing joke between them, breaking the awkward moment. She picked up the roll of elasticated bandage and handed it to Cassie before turning her back to her friend.

Cassie began to wind the bandage around Billie's torso, pulling it tight at each turn.

"How's that feel?"

"It's doing its job."

The roll came to an end and Cassie secured it with a couple of safety pins. Billie rolled her shoulders to get used to the feeling, before walking over to her wardrobe. She pulled out a shirt and a pair of men's pants.

Cassie watched her friend's back as she stepped into the pants and pulled them up. Next, she slid the shirt on over her tightly-wrapped torso and buttoned it up. The final touch was a pair of men's leather dress shoes that she slipped onto her feet. Billie turned around.

"How do I look?"

The cap was incongruous, given the formality of the shirt and trousers, but the effect was striking: Billie the mother and housewife was gone, replaced by a slightly-built thirty-something man.

"I think you'll pass."

"That's the idea, hon."

Billie fiddled with the cuffs of the shirt.

"Feels odd though," she mused, "Feels odd trying to pass for male after years of worrying about passing for female."

Billie looked up. The smile had faded.

"Thanks for helping. Morgan doesn't like doing this, not that she'll ever tell me that. It's weird really. Some couples have a special dress-up section in the back of the wardrobe. Ours is a full set of smart-casual men's clothing, right next to the French Maid outfit."

The smile returned again.

"French Maid?" Cassie laughed.

"Oh, hon, I wish. She's as straight as they come really, the closest we get is what I'll be wearing to the airport tomorrow."

"Oh really? What's that?"

Billie picked up a handbag, transferring her wallet and car keys into the pant pockets, then turned to look at Cassie.

"I have an A-line dress, I'll fix an up-do as well, with nylon stay-ups and heels. I'm going full nineteen fifties femme housewife. I even have an apron, for when I serve dinner."

Billie pulled at the collar and smoothed a hand down the flat front of the shirt. The elasticated bandages had flattened her chest completely. "It's a countermeasure against all this."

"You look good. You'll pass."

Billie didn't respond immediately, but Cassie could feel there was something still unsaid.

"You've always been there for me Cassie," Billie said, "And you never once doubted me."

Cassie frowned.

"Billie, where's this going?"

"Uh, William, not Billie, at least for the next two hours."

"You got this," Cassie replied, noting the strange expression on her friend's face.

"I know, but this... it just feels fake. Gran expects to see her son and grandson when we walk through the door. She can't remember much anymore, and it really gets to Dad having to explain each time."

Billie shrugged, a masculine gesture in men's clothing. "I don't mind dressing like this. It's just cruel otherwise, watching Gran struggle with it all over again, like the first time. Dad reckons it's not long now anyway for her. I'm happy to do it, even if it's just to make the visits easier for him."

Billie's face brightened. "It's just a couple of hours. Anyway, how about you? Coping with Damian away?"

Billie led them both out of the bedroom and down the hall. Cassie watched her friend's body language, seeing the faint swagger, the shoulders thrust back: an echo of the past.

"I'm fine," Cassie replied.

"No, you're not."

They reached the front door. Billie opened it, letting the sunlight spill in, but stopped on the threshold.

"I want you to bring the boys here for a sleepover tonight. Go and have a night out."

"On my own?"

"Yes. On your own. Don't worry about the kids, just go do something for yourself. Go to the movies, maybe. Go to a bar."

Cassie frowned at her friend, but said nothing. Billie made an exasperated sound.

"You remember that café siege?" Billie said, "The woman who got killed, the one with the daughter?"

"Yeah."

"Remember what her husband said, when they interviewed him?"

"No."

"You put things off until tomorrow, and then suddenly there are no more tomorrows."

Billie leaned forward, voice lowering conspiratorially, as she said, "Go back to that bar we went to. Pick up some good-looking guy and fuck his brains out."

The words triggered something in Cassie, the directness of Billie's tone.

"I'm... I... you know I'm not going to do that."

"Fine. How about this. Drop the kids off here at six. I know that Hope will be dying to see them, she's just had me to play with for a week. Then just pick a movie. Sit there with some popcorn. But," Billie wagged a finger, "Get dressed up. Not saggy baggy housewife chic. Make an effort. You don't have to go any further than that, okay?"

Billie set her mouth in a firm line, and now, dressed as William, it felt different when Cassie heard the words.

"Okay," she said, finally.

"Good. But yeah, after the movie, go to that bar. Don't put it off 'til tomorrow. Get some."

Billie ushered them both outside and closed the door.

"If there is one thing you've taught me, Cassie, it's that there is nothing more deadly than living a lie. All those years ago in your bedroom, when you got that dress out of your wardrobe for me, do you remember? It was a turning point."

"So, you think I need a turning point?"

"Fucking hell, Cassie, you're way past the turning point. You're just stuck in one world when everyone else is in another."

Billie's hands cupped Cassie's face gently.

"You always try to fix everything, babe. You try to save everyone. Damian isn't for saving. He's already made his choice. It takes two to tango, right? It's not all just Lily leading him astray. None of this would have happened if Damian didn't actually go out looking to start it."

Cassie felt her heart sink, looking up into her friend's earnest eyes.

"He's the real problem, babe. She's just the side-effect."

Cassie leaned in and Billie enfolded her in a hug.

"But you know that, right?"

Buried in the fabric of Billie's shirt, Cassie felt her eyes prick with tears. She nodded.

"Good girl. Every day you deal with people going through stuff I couldn't even conceive of, and you don't even flinch. You always fucking kick the doors in wherever you go, Cassidy Hayes. You are hard core. I'm with you all the way."

Cassie wrapped her arms tightly around her friend, the sounds of the street fading away. It just needed to be said out loud. It was that simple.

Billie broke off the embrace and gave Cassie a peck on the cheek. Neither of them said anything as Billie went one way to her car, Cassie going the other. Billie got in and waved as she pulled out of the driveway. Cassie waved back, but was left standing on the path, alone again.

Billie was right. She was right about everything, and in some way that made it easier, as if it was no longer a burden that Cassie had to bear on her own. She contemplated the movies for a moment but dismissed the idea. Instead, she tapped a number on her phone and let it ring.

Eventually, the call connected.

"Cassidy, hello."

"Hi Cynthia, hey, do you have a moment?"

"For you, I have all the time in the world. Which is actually and unfortunately only about five minutes before my hair appointment."

"Doing anything special tonight?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line.

"Yes, actually, I am. Tell me, Cassidy, do you have any plans? Want to have some fun this evening?"

---

Cassie took a cab into the city. She was wearing the same little black dress and patent leather heels as before, getting out carefully so as not to reveal too much leg to the people in the queue to enter the club. She waited in line, feeling out of place among the other customers. When she got to the front, she recognised the petite woman on the door from her previous visit.

"Just a tip," the woman said, "Next time, come down the other side of the rope and skip the queue."

"Uh, thanks," Cassie replied.

The woman gave her the most fleeting of winks before locking eyes on the person behind her. Cassie went to pay the cover charge, but the woman behind the booth waved her on. Cassie was about to ask her why, but she was already beckoning the next person over to pay, ignoring her now. Cassie turned and walked through the inner doors into the darkness of the club.

As before, she made her way through the crowd to the back, to find Tony arguing with two drunk women in tiny skirts and lacy tops. Seeing Cassie approach, he held up his hand to silence their objections while he unhooked the velvet rope to let Cassie through.

"Hey, how come she gets to just go through?" one of the women drawled.

"She's a member. You're not," Tony explained, patiently, as if he'd already made the point several times.

"How do I get to be a member?"

Cassie looked at Tony. The tribal tattoo that ran down one side of his face from his forehead to his chin creased in a smile.

"Oh, that's easy," he chuckled, "You have to be extraordinary."

The drunk women made as if to protest, but by then, Tony had turned his back to them, towering now over Cassie as he reached out to open the door.

He inclined his head in her direction, "Nice to see you again, Mistress Grace," he said.

Cassie stepped through the door into the Lost and Found.

It had been the way that Tony had welcomed her, and also the women in the booth and on the front door. This time, it was different. All the barriers were suddenly removed when she appeared and then they closed in behind her, as if she was being welcomed into the secret heart of a hidden world. She crossed the floor, weaving between the cocktail tables to reach the bar. The barman nodded to her while mixing a cocktail. A girl in a tight bodice of deep red velvet appeared next to her.

"Beer and a mojito," she called, ignoring the fact that Cassie was already waiting for service.

The barman finished serving his customer and came over to them, pulling out a bottle of white rum and decanting it into a cocktail shaker.

"And you?" he said to Cassie, smiling, "Vodka soda?"

Cassie returned the smile, "Good memory."

"Part of the job."

The girl shifted on her feet as she waited, pulling out a pen and pad.

"Tab for table four, and table six were asking for more champagne."

The barman laughed. "Tony's going to be carrying them out," he said.

Cassie saw the girl smile in return, sensing a camaraderie between them. She had short hair, cut in a bob and dyed jet black. Thick black eyeliner accented her eyes, pale green, lighter than Lily's. She had a delicate face, a diamond stud set in the side of her small nose.

"Busy?" Cassie ventured.

The pale green eyes flicked towards her and then back to the barman, watching him slap the mint leaves and mix them into the mojito.

"Picking up," she replied, shifting her feet again. "Lot of walking."

"I imagine. Are you the only one on? You must get rushed off your feet."

"Tell me about it. Especially in these."

She glanced down and wiggled her leg. Beneath a tight leather skirt, Cassie could now see the girl was wearing a pair of ballet boots. The heels must have been at least six inches tall.

"Do they come with health insurance?" Cassie asked.

"Here? Yeah. Mandatory in this job," the girl replied, flashing her a smile.

"Cassie. I'm Cassie."

The girl gave her a conspiratorial look, "No, I think you'll find you're not."

The barman placed a vodka soda on the bar, followed by a beer and the mojito.

"Call me Estelle. It means...."

"Star," Cassie interjected.

Estelle laughed. "I heard you were quick," she said, picking up the drinks order and then teetering on her heels over to one of the booths.

Cassie watched her go, noticing the way her hips wiggled as she walked, hair tossed back, like she was on a catwalk. The heels didn't seem to slow her down at all. Cassie turned back to her drink.

"What do I owe you, uh...?" she asked the barman.

"Armal. I'm Armal, and that's on the house," he grinned, "You're expected, upstairs."

Armal stretched out an arm richly decorated with ink in a mock salute. Cassie rose from her stool and picked up her drink.

"Godspeed and good luck," he said.

Cassie made her way over to the door next to the bar, glancing surreptitiously at the occupants of the booths against the nearest wall. She could see the glint of metal in the subdued lighting, bare flesh, leather. She found herself making eye contact with an imposing woman with fiery red hair sitting in the next booth in a striking ballgown in black silk, enveloping her voluptuous frame. Her eyes were on Cassie as she approached the door. Feeling desperately under-dressed, Cassie nodded to her before opening the door instead and stepped through.

On the other side, the stairway led up, switching back on itself to deposit her in a narrow corridor with a line of doors set in one wall. The first door was slightly open, allowing a warm, yellow light to spill out onto the darkened landing. Cassie hesitated, then knocked.

"Come in."

Cassie pushed the door open further and entered into the inner sanctum of Madame Syn's office. It was as she'd remembered it from before: the far wall was arranged with a set of shelves and cabinets in front of which was a large, solid wooden desk and a large leather office chair. Against another wall, there was a chaise longue upholstered in a plush, deep red velvet. There was a doorway in the third wall. The room appeared to be empty.

"Hello?" Cassie called.

"In here."

Cassie turned towards the sound, as Syn emerged from the other door clad neck-to-toe in a long, sweeping silk dressing gown, patterned with exotic flowers in shades of red and blue. She clasped her hands together when she caught sight of Cassie.