When One Day We are Gone Ch. 05

[Author's note: Cassidy Hayes, psychologist by day and mother of two, is struggling as her husband Damian cheats on her with Lily. Blackmailed through incriminating videos into doing what Lily tells her, Cassie finds herself yielding to the domineering sexy blonde younger woman. Meanwhile, Cassie is exploring a strange world, having made a new friend in Madame Syn, the owner of the Lost and Found and a highly accomplished Dominatrix. As her marriage implodes, torn between urges to dominate and submit, Cassie must make a choice.

It's a year to the day since Quinn's wife passed away, leaving him adrift, a submissive without a mistress. Through a series of counselling sessions at Syn's request, Cassie and Quinn have been working through his trauma at losing his lover. See Alena's Game for the backstory.

This episode contains graphic scenes of female domination, so if this is not your cup of tea, please feel free to skip this episode. Read the story tags: the tags are your friends.]

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CHANGE OF OWNERSHIP

Cassidy Hayes stepped out of the cab onto the darkened street, in front of the doors to the Lost and Found. She had found herself here more and more often in the weeks since Syn had invited her into her world. It had been a steep learning curve, but she had found herself drawn in, fascinated by the interplay. More and more, she found herself using it as a counterpoint to what she was facing at home: the slow, torturous erosion of her place in her husband's affections. She was looking forward to tonight, even if as a respite from Lily's relentless assault on her self-worth.

Cassie knew what this was; she was compartmentalising. She knew because she had seen her clients doing it as a way to cope with abuse and trauma. Regardless of the insight, Cassie's training and years of experience as a psychologist hadn't prepared her at all when it had happened to her. Lily had made it look easy, inescapable. Cassie drew herself upright, pushing away thoughts of the cruel, willowy blonde woman. Tonight was something she'd been building up to for months and she needed to focus.

Backlit by the garish window display of an all-night convenience store, she saw the tall, gangly figure of a middle-aged man in neat trousers and a dress shirt. Cassie straightened the hem of her little black dress and drew herself up straighter, her hand threading through her expensively-styled blonde hair, making sure everything was in place. She took a deep breath and walked over to him, swaying in her high heels.

The man's posture changed immediately, stiffening. He watched her approach, but didn't move.

"How are you, Quinn?" Cassie asked.

He gave her a quick smile that vanished as soon as it had appeared.

"I'm shitting myself."

In reply, Cassie reached out and enfolded the man in a warm embrace. His hands faltered, hovering in the air either side of her waist.

"It's okay, you're allowed," she murmured, and his hands slid around her, gripping tightly.

Cassie closed her eyes, enjoying the contact.

"You don't have to do this if you don't want to," she said, "Remember what we talked about."

At this, he pulled back so he could see her face. She watched his expression closely.

"I don't know, Mistress...."

Cassie cut him off with a shake of her head and Quinn corrected himself hurriedly.

"I don't know, Cassie. I thought I was ready but, really, I don't know."

Cassie smiled warmly. "It's a big step, but you really are ready," she replied.

She touched her index finger to his forehead, pressing gently. He closed his eyes.

"That's right. Just stop and breathe."

Seeing him begin to relax, she removed her finger and slid her hand into his, waiting.

"Okay. Let's go in," he said at last.

Cassie smiled, squeezing his hand reassuringly.

"Do you have your safeword?" she asked.

His face crumpled and for a second, Cassie thought all her reassurances had been undone.

"Starburst," he replied, "But... that was the one Alena gave me. I don't think I can use it. I just...."

"That's fine. Pick a new one."

He shrugged, his face sad. "I can't."

"Quinn, hey, you can."

"Sorry Cassie, no. It's not up to me."

Cassie regarded the man in silence, studying his reaction to her request. His body language had changed: already fragile, he was turning in on himself, faltering. After all their work together, he was beginning to unravel.

"Quinn," she began, probing gently, "You know her. How was last weekend? You had fun, didn't you?"

He regarded her nervously, then nodded. "Yes, we had a great time. Though a little too much wine."

"You like her?"

"I do, yes."

"Then do you think you're ready?"

Quinn steeled himself. "Okay. Let's do this," he said.

Cassie drew her shoulders back, standing taller in her high heels, eyes locked on his. The warm smile faded from her lips.

"At last," she said, a hard edge to her voice, "I was beginning to think you were just wasting my time."

She dropped his hand.

"I've worked so hard with you, trying to get you to the point that I could finally dispose of you. Madame Syn was right, you are a burden. Time to make you someone else's burden."

She turned, high heels clicking on the stone as she walked to a large double door set in sandstone, nestled between the convenience store and a darkened shop window. There was the faint glow of a neon sign shining from within. Cassie stopped at the entrance, waiting for Quinn to catch up.

He came to a halt, eyeing her nervously. She searched his expression, needing to be sure. He was unremarkable, neither handsome nor unattractive, dark hair turning to grey at the temples, eyes creased with worry lines.

"If she was still here, Mistress Alena would be so proud of you."

"I always obeyed her, Mistress, right up to the end."

"This command will be the hardest. But it was her last command. Show her that you were worthy of her attention, worm."

She paused, allowing him to process her words. Reaching into her handbag, she extracted a folded brown envelope.

"Your safeword is 'phoenix'," Cassie said.

"Thank you, Mistress Grace. I am utterly unworthy of you."

Cassie didn't reply, turning dismissively to leave him staring at her back. She strode into the entrance of the club.

"Pay the lady, worm."

Quinn hurried to the booth, paying the cover charge for them both then returning to her side. Cassie pushed past him through the inner doors and into the club.

It was still early, but the thud of the bass hit her like a wall, reverberating through her body. There was something about the tempo that seemed to synchronise with her, lifting her spirits. Wrapped in her tight little black dress, bare legs on display in her killer heels, make-up immaculate, she felt suddenly like she owned the place. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a group of men turn to watch her walk by. She felt their eyes on the sculpted curves of her body, the product of many hours at the gym, all that hard work to transform a thirty-something housewife into a sleek, hard body. She liked the way Quinn scurried behind her as she cut confidently through the crowd towards the back of the club. It felt good to occupy all his focus, and she stretched out her strides knowing that it would make her bottom wiggle in her short dress, torturing him.

Tony was standing on duty in front of the red velvet rope. He saw her coming through the crowd and unhooked it before she arrived, pushing the door open to admit her into the members' area. She smiled at him as she walked past, not losing momentum, chin high and blonde locks streaming behind her.

"Welcome to the Lost and Found," Tony announced.

Cassie slipped into the space beyond, hearing the footsteps of her companion behind her. She came to a halt, surveying the space they had entered. The door closed behind them, and the relentless thud of the music faded to a background hum, replaced by softer music.

She scanned the patrons, taking in the couple sitting at the bar, set against the far wall, the groups around the cocktail tables in the middle of the floor, the figures in the luxurious, dark vinyl booths set around two of the walls. The last wall, to her right, was taken up by a small stage. An empty DJ booth next to it was lit by a laptop screen, supplying a playlist. In the middle of the stage was a solid, stuffed leather pommel horse.

Across the room, a figure in one of the booths raised a hand and waved. Cassie smiled. Not waiting for her companion, she strode over to the darkened booth and slid into a seat opposite a broad middle-aged woman with copper-coloured hair in a tight bun, wearing a black, low-cut top and short leather skirt. Her outfit was complimented with high-heeled leather boots that came up to her knees. She smiled at Cassie. Quinn remained standing.

"Vodka soda," Cassie said, not bothering to look up.

The other woman followed with, "Gin and tonic."

She folded her hands carefully on the table, back straight, ignoring the man's presence. Quinn turned and left. Cassie watched him go, waiting until he was out of earshot before speaking.

"You look good, Ally."

The other woman made a face, her posture softening immediately.

"Ugh, do you think? I don't know about this top. I think it puts a little too much on show."

She wriggled her shoulders.

"And I had plenty to show to begin with."

"Nice boots."

"They're new. They're killing me. I should have worn them around the house for a few days, broke them in. Hard to do that with teenagers wandering about."

Cassie laughed. "You should try seven-year-olds."

"Oh, hon, been there. Jesus, the things they could find. I had to lock stuff up."

Ally began to relax.

"All good for tonight?" Cassie asked.

"I think so. We talked about it for a long time last weekend. I'm ready. Do you think he is?"

Cassie didn't reply. Instead, she slid the brown envelope across the table to the other woman.

"Year to the day," Cassie said. "I could open it, but I think Alena intended it to be opened by someone who...."

Cassie broke off, but Ally took the envelope.

"It should be me, Cassie. It's been a long time for him, but if he's ready then I'm ready," she said, then looked up at Cassie, "I think he might be the one, at long last."

She smiled, suddenly embarrassed. "Not think. I know. Thank you for helping him."

Quinn approached, carrying a drink in each hand. Carefully, he set them on the table in front of each woman. Ally waved a hand at him, dismissively.

"You may kneel."

Instantly, he dropped to his knees, head bowed. Cassie picked up her drink and sipped it, letting her eyes wander around the room. In the booth next to them, a young Asian woman with straight black hair looked back at her. She nodded and Cassie nodded back, recognising Kiko and her husband. Kiko's neck was adorned with an expensive leather collar and once the acknowledgement had been made, she dropped her eyes respectfully back to the table, rejoining conversation with her husband.

Ally was making conversation, and Cassie followed along, but her eyes kept wandering, recognising some of the patrons. Some were clients of hers, people who had sought her out professionally as a psychologist on the word-of-mouth recommendation of other people here; others had become friends. It gave her a warm glow inside, a feeling of belonging. There was a twinge of pain too, contrasting this with her home life, her marriage challenges, the difficult terrain she had to negotiate every day. Here, at least, she didn't have to put up a façade.

They finished their drinks, chatting amiably. Quinn remained kneeling on the floor, forgotten. Finally, Ally put down her drink and picked up her handbag, sliding the brown envelope into it.

"I had a word with Madame Syn," Ally said, "She's given us a room upstairs. Shall we get started?"

Ally rose from her seat and stepped out of the booth. Cassie joined her, looking down at the kneeling figure between them.

"Ready, worm?" Ally said.

He looked up, finally making eye contact.

"Yes, Mistress Candice. The worm begs for your attention."

"Let's go."

She turned her back on him and began to make her way to the large door next to the bar. Quinn rose to follow, but Ally stopped.

"No, on your hands and knees will be fine."

She started across the floor again, with Quinn crawling behind her, head bowed, and Cassie bringing up the rear. Ally flashed her a smile over her shoulder, wiggling her voluptuous rear in her leather skirt as she minced along on her high heels. Quinn's eyes were locked on her boots. He wasn't privy to the look of excitement lighting up Ally's face as she led them all into the private area, the club within the club.

---

Cassie perched on a stool in the corner of the room and Syn stood in the opposite corner, silent, like adjudicators or court-appointed witnesses. Ally had opened up to Cassie about last weekend, how Quinn had arranged a little cottage perched on top of a ridge, overlooking the valleys, surrounded by endless trees. There was an outside spa and a long talk before she and Quinn had made love, sharing their bodies, working around the constraints of his cage, giving and taking in a way that she had never found with her ex-husband. They had discussed limits and boundaries, tiptoed gently around the subject of Alena.

Ally had confessed to Cassie that she was secretly terrified. It was one thing to be compared to an ex-wife, but how could she hope to compete with a ghost? Worse, she remembered watching them together in the club, how Alena would make him kneel, how he scurried after her, how hard he was in his little cage as his beloved wife and Mistress humiliated him in front of strangers. It was daunting to offer herself up for comparison.

Syn had helped, sitting together with Cassie and talking Ally through it, exposing a vast library of knowledge in her head. Syn recalled how Alena had been at the start, and told Ally that what she saw as Alena's genius was actually hard-practiced experience. It wasn't an innate gift; taking control of Quinn was a skill that could be learned. Syn had reassured her that Quinn was smart enough to know all this already, to have figured out what Ally was going through, and would forgive any missteps along the way. Like he had done with his lovely, departed wife, he would patiently show Ally the way.

The heels clicked across the bare floor, spiked stiletto boots, stopping between the legs of the naked man spread eagled on the floor, his wrists and ankles secured by rope to anchor points set into the walls. A toe nudged the soft flesh of his inner thigh, experimentally, then drew back to deliver a swift kick that made him writhe in his constraints, hissing through the ball gag between his teeth. Mistress Candice looked down at her new plaything, stripped bare and vulnerable under the gaze of the three clothed Mistresses.

"Comfortable with your place on the floor?"

She placed a foot onto his thigh, leaning to press the toe of her boot into his flesh. She stepped back and kicked him again in the same spot.

"Aren't you lucky that your previous owner thought to give you some protection?"

Mistress Candice tapped her slave's cock cage with her foot.

"Pity about your balls though."

Her kick was swift and accurate, catching him squarely in the scrotum. He screamed behind the gag, pulling mightily on the ropes binding him, squirming to try and get his body away from the cruel dominatrix standing over him. Candice laughed.

"Oh, they still work, do they? Not withered away after a year of disuse?"

She kicked again and his body arched in pain. She watched her slave's face closely, seeing the agony her punishment was inflicting. Then she crouched down, one latex-gloved hand reaching out between his legs to cup his balls.

"Is that better?"

She massaged his scrotum gently.

"Did I hurt you too much?"

He nodded.

"But no safeword. No clicking fingers."

Candice gave him a soft, gentle smile.

"Poor baby. A year, and instead of unlocking, you get this."

Her hand closed around his balls, crushing them. He reared up, lifting his buttocks clear of the floor as the agony course through him, but Candice maintained her grip, pulling him by his scotum back down to the floor, stretching his skin even as she squeezed his testicles mercilessly. Gradually, his bottom sank back down to the ground. She released her grip.

"There we go, did that hurt? Did you learn your lesson? There's no escape from your Mistress. There's no way to escape what I want to do with your body. Serving me is going to be very different from serving your previous owner."

She slapped his balls hard, making the cage jerk as his body spasmed.

"Much fun as this is, I need to take some practical steps. It seems unfair that if I allow you to fuck me, I'm the one who has to take birth precautions."

Cassie frowned. She watched the woman's face closely as she leaned over her helpless victim. This was new. Syn hadn't reacted, staring impassively at the naked man on the floor.

"All because you have this God-given right to ejaculate, hmm? To tell you the truth, I really have no use for your shrivelled up balls and the peril that lurks inside. I'm done raising a family, and so are you. If I ever allow you inside me, I don't want to be thinking about any of that, so let's take measures."

She stood up and walked over to the shelving, picking up what looked like a pair of pliers and an elastic band. She crouched down by her slave's head, opening and closing the device for his wide, wild eyes to see. Smiling, she slipped the elastic band over the jaws and opened them out.

"It'll just take a minute, then we're done."

Cassie watched her circle around to the helpless man's feet and kneel down between his legs. She was looking up at him now, grinning. Silently, she reached forwards and grasped his balls again, feeding them through the extended elastic loop and then closing the jaws. He jerked mightily. She withdrew the tool and patted his banded scrotum.

"No fuss, and in a few hours, no balls," she purred, "Then a lifetime of serving me as my speyed plaything. Life is going to be so much better for you without these weighing you down. More convenient for me too. You can put all of your energies into serving my needs instead of needing to drain your non-existent balls anymore."

Candice stood, hand on hip, watching the man on the floor writhe. His scrotum was already inflated and reddened.

"It's going to get excruciating, then the feeling is going to go away. That's when you know your balls have died. Shouldn't take too long."

She leaned over him.

"It was the price you had to pay to be in my life. Or, it's the price I wanted you to pay. I really don't remember if you agreed to it. Well, a couple of hours and it's going to be a moot point."

Candice replaced the castration tool on the shelf and shot a quick look at Cassie. Cassie remained impassive. She had to trust that this woman knew what she was doing. It was her show.

Ignoring the moans from the man she had just castrated as he wriggled on the floor, Candice retrieved her handbag from where she had dropped it by the door. She took the brown envelope out and turned it over in her hands. Seeing this, her slave froze immediately, looking on intently, quiet now behind the gag. Candice ignored him, examining the flow of the handwriting on the front.

"Year to the day," she mused, not looking up from the envelope.

She slid a finger into the fold and began to rip along the edge until she could slide her hand inside and extract the contents: pages of writing in the same flowing hand that adorned the outside of the envelope, and a chain. On the chain was a key.

"Ah, good," Syn said. "So, Mistress Alena didn't intend that the worm never be released."