[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.]
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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."
