Page 22 of Room Twenty: She's A Switch

Gideon ran his hands along Lazlo's and Dax’s heads. It was some kind of signal. Lazlo stood and approached my left side.

“I love you.” He whispered, running his fingers along my collarbone, dipping to the swell of my breasts. “I think you’re beautiful. I love to kneel for you. To give you that control. To place my happiness in your capable hands for a few hours, Margaux. It’s something I hand over willingly. Will you hand over something willingly to me?” He asked, the depth of his emerald eyes enthralling me.

“What?”

He looked at the bustier, offering my tits up for his perusal.

“Three snaps.”

“Lazlo.” There was a warning in the way I said his name. He didn’t have to push like this.

“Do you love me enough for three snaps? That’s barely even where your breasts end. We take them out and suckle them, fuck them, bite them—all of those acts take over three snaps.”

“I know where this is going, Gideon. And I say no. Don’t make me end this scene.”

None of them looked afraid. We all know the word I needed to utter in order for this to end and for the security guys to come running.

“If you use it, Margaux, you’re not just ending the scene. You’ll be ending us.” Dax stood shoulder to shoulder with Lazlo.

“Domination and submission are about giving over your complete self. A give and take.” Gideon continued, “Where all parties involved offer their broken pieces and forge something new from that unearthing.”

“What is it that broke you apart, Margaux?” Lazlo asked, hands on the first snap of my bustier. “Show me those broken pieces.”

“You’ve carried this armor for so long, my broken dove. Do you even know how to exist without it? Think about what sweet relief it would be to lay it down, even for a little while, and let someone else carry that burden.”

Gideon took over where Lazlo had begun.

“What is it about being naked that scares you so much?”

His whisper was too intimate. It made me feel too many things. Scared. Petrified, really. While I existed in lingerie and pieces that held me together and gave me shape—I was still Mistress Margaux. I had control. I could tell someone to fuck off and leave them with blue balls if they disrespected me. Without it? I was simply Margaux. And what would protect me then?

Gideon took my hands down off the wall. He rubbed some feeling in them before bringing my hand to his cock.

“This is the best lie detector there is, my sweet. Why would anything change with clothes or without them? There are three men here, desperate to bury themselves inside of you, because you twist their insides with desire.”

Dax approached from the other side. “I love you Margaux. The first time I saw you, you were chatting with someone at the bar. Your hair fell over your shoulders in soft waves, and you were laughing at something the bartender said. The second I saw you, I told Lazlo I wanted to learn who you were. Because even in that first moment, before I knew you, or your skills in domination, that gorgeous smile and luscious body drew me to you like a fish on a hook. That won’t change because of a piece of clothes.”

He placed his hand on the next set of snaps and pulled them apart. Each snap felt like an insidious whisper, telling me how unworthy of these beautiful men I truly was. That as soon as they saw me for who I truly was, they’d leave. Just like all the others.

“I think you want to kneel for me, Margaux. I believe that as much as you love dominating Lazlo and Dax, you’re desperate for the peace they find in giving all of their worries to you.

“You don’t want to kneel for me because deep down in a crevice you don’t want to admit exists. You still don’t believe you’re worthy. Submitting to me forces you to expose yourself. To open up and show me who you are stripped free from all of this bullshit. And that terrifies you.”

The first tear broke through. I fought it hard. I bit my lip, looked at the ceiling, recited the alphabet in my head. Every trick I’d heard over the years that is supposed to help you stop crying. None of them worked.

“Baby.” Gideon wrapped me in his arms, sounding so proud of me for those stupid tears. “Tell me. Please tell me. I need it with every fiber of my being.”

“You’ll leave. Just like all the others.” I sobbed into his chest. “You’ll ask me to hand over everything to you—and then you’ll realize no matter how many pretty words you said telling me you worshipped lush women, that you loved their curves, and how you jerk off every night thinking about fucking me—the moment this comes off and reality is looking you in the eye, you’ll leave. Maybe not tonight, but slowly you’ll detach. It will be a missed text. Then a forgotten phone call. A rescheduled date that never ends up back on the calendar and then you’ll ghost.”

Gideon yanked at his hair in frustration.

“Get on the bed.” He seethed, his voice dropping to an octave I’d never heard before. “Lazlo, Dax, you too. Margaux, on your back in present, and don’t you dare think of arguing. Lazlo, there are arm and wrist bindings tucked into the head and footboards. Use them.”

I wasn’t afraid, though my breathing had shallowed to the point I felt lightheaded. My body told me to flee, but my heart told me to stay. I didn’t want to lose any of them. But I also feared losing the “me” I’d spent years creating. She was my backbone. My strength. Without her, I didn’t know who I was.

“This comes off right now.” Gideon took either side of the fabric and rended it in two. Tore it completely off. I didn’t have a moment to argue. He held his hand up to me, his eyes locked with mine, and a fire in his eyes that dared me to open my mouth and argue with him and see what the outcome would be.

“Lazlo… show your Mistress what she can’t see.”

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