[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.
Syn has invited her to take part in a scene at the Lost and Found, but Cassie finds herself thrown in at the deep end, confronted by a woman trapped inside a stool and used as furniture. Now she has to go downstairs, dressed in latex for the first time, to collect a man from the bar. How will she handle stepping out as Mistress Grace in front of the entire club...?]
---
BALANCING THE BOOKS
The boots were a problem, forcing Cassie to hold the stair rail tightly as she descended, so she took her time. Toppling here, on the stairs in the private area of the Lost and Found, would be bad. She had sudden visions of herself, sprawled unconscious in her tight, white latex dress and thigh-high leather boots at the foot of the stairs until Syn or one of the staff went looking for her. Nervously, she descended another step, ensuring that the spiked heel was firmly positioned before proceeding.
At the bottom, she stopped and checked herself. Cassie smoothed her hands over the slick white surface of the dress, feeling the way the latex enveloped her arms all the way down to her wrists, the way it lifted and shaped her cleavage and gathered in her stomach. She tugged again at the hemline, trying to extract one more inch of coverage over her bottom and crotch, but it was no use. She would need to walk slowly and carefully to avoid the dress riding up and exposing herself to everyone in the club. She pushed her blonde hair back over her shoulders and straightened her spine. Own the place, Syn had told her. Cassie took a deep breath and pulled the door open.
She stepped out into the music and the buzz, leaving behind the safety and the silence of the stairway up to the private rooms. The door closed behind her.
The man she was supposed to be meeting would be at the bar, just to her left, no more than a couple of dozen steps, but to get there she would have to pass by the booths set against the wall and then the cocktail tables arranged in the middle of the floor. It was later in the night now and a crowd had gathered in the club; she would need to pass them to find her client.
Cassie faltered: what the hell was she doing? She was in her mid-thirties, a mother of two and a wife, with a respectable job and a good circle of friends who would never understand what Cassie was doing at nearly midnight in a kink club wearing a tight white latex fantasy dress.
She was living two lives. The thought stopped her cold, her mind replaying memories of being dressed in a smart-casual skirt and blouse earlier in the week, walking to the reception area of her nice, neat office space to collect the couple she was counselling. Cassie would smile at them as she approached, greet them professionally and take them to the comfortable meeting space for an hour to talk about their problems. She had been doing it for years, putting her clients at ease, explaining her role, using her training as a qualified psychologist to help people. In some recess in her mind, she could see how this was exactly the same.
But it wasn't. She could feel eyes on her body, the cling of the latex, the prickling of sweat under the slick material as she reacted to the heat and the... what? Then, she felt it, just as Syn had described: the buzz. There was an ache, deep down inside her. She could finally admit it to herself, embracing the reason she found herself here: a latent need for the strange, wild energy it drew up from deep inside her.
Cassie could feel eyes on her, the shiny white dress singling her out. She remembered standing at the barbeque in her own back yard, the eyes on her there, everyone knowing her husband was cheating on her, the humiliation of being judged by their stares. But here, it was elation, the fierce thrill of stepping out in front of a sea of faces, stopping conversations with the mere roll of her hips as she walked.
Cassie stepped out, arranging one foot carefully in front of the other, feeling the power that came with becoming this role that Syn had given her. The latex dress showed off every contour of her body, but instead of feeling degraded at being on display, she felt powerful. Cassie walked with as much poise and grace as she could muster, teetering in the savagely-high heels, surprising herself, letting them watch her. She rounded the corner of the bar and to her dismay there were nearly a dozen people waiting for drinks. She halted.
Estelle looked up from her notepad, eyes momentarily widening as she saw Cassie approaching in her tiny white latex dress. Then her lips curved into a small lopsided smile. Estelle nodded, indicating a man sitting on a stool at the middle of the bar. Cassie watched as Estelle placed a hand on his shoulder and bent to his ear. The man turned to see Cassie walking towards him. His mouth dropped open.
Cassie fixed her expression, trying to appear firm and composed, even though she was churning inside. Estelle picked up her drinks tray, passing Cassie by and touching her fingers to Cassie's forearm. Cassie felt the waitress give her a little squeeze; it felt surprisingly reassuring. She turned her attention to the seated man.
He was older than Cassie, in his forties, with a rounded, undistinguished face. The couple next to him at the bar were clad in matching leather jumpsuits, but he was dressed in a shirt and trousers like he was supposed to have been at a nice dinner but had taken a wrong turn somewhere, ending up in the Lost and Found instead. Cassie came to a halt.
"I got the message," he said, "But... I, uh, I was expecting...."
Cassie just nodded. The man was nervous, his eyes dancing between the beautiful, unexpected blonde woman in front of him and the door into the private area.
"I was expecting someone else," he finished.
"I'm here to collect you."
"Kyle. I'm Kyle."
Cassie watched the way he said it, introducing himself like anyone would if meeting someone for the first time and expecting her to do the same, but an intuition told Cassie she should change tack.
"Irrelevant," she said, keeping her expression neutral before turning her back to him and calling over her shoulder, "Are you coming?"
She walked away without waiting for a response, heading back to the door. She desperately wanted to glance over her shoulder and check that he was following, but she held her nerve. Just like her day job, it was all about giving the client the confidence that he was in good hands, establishing the proper relationship. Sure enough, when she opened the door, he was right behind her. She led him through to the stairs.
Facing the steps again, she suddenly understood the depth of Syn's meticulous planning. Cassie began to ascend, placing one foot carefully in front of the other in her boots, feeling the way her hips shifted in the clinging white latex. The hemline didn't ride up, but Cassie was acutely aware of how her bottom would look, moulded and pert in the shiny white material, wiggling at Kyle's eye level as they climbed the stairs.
Cassie could feel his eyes staring at her body, amplifying her buzz. She no longer felt self-conscious or strange, instead, she relished a newly-discovered assuredness, flexing her hips more, taunting the man behind her. She wanted him to look, she wanted to take his breath away, to be the one in control. Cassie didn't dare turn around or speak.
At the top of the stairs, Cassie led them to the door in silence. She paused with her hand resting on the handle. Kyle's eyes were on her, his body burning with a nervous energy, and she was struck by inspiration.
"What do you think you'll find in here, Kyle?"
He moistened his lips and his eyes flicked to the door.
"I don't know."
Cassie remained impassive.
"You don't? What were you told?"
Kyle didn't look at her, and she realised that he couldn't.
"I was just told to be here," he stammered, becoming more agitated.
"Please," he continued, "I just want to know what happened to my wife."
The way he said it was wrong, more nervous than excited, making Cassie pause.
"Can we just go in? I need to see her."
Cassie opened the door and let him precede her into the room. She followed behind, a nagging doubt forming in the back of her mind, an intuition that everything wasn't as it seemed.
What did she know about Syn, really? They had met up for coffee, Syn had taken her shopping, they had talked almost from the first meeting like they were old friends because Cassie felt a connection to the beautiful, sexy, older woman. She had seen the way that Syn had been affected by Quinn's loss, had glimpsed through the impervious façade at the woman behind. But, how much did she know about Syn really, about her history, or her connections? What was she really capable of? Cassie began to wonder what she'd gotten herself mixed up in.
