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“The demonstration!”
I caught my head between my hands. Mortified. That word fit perfectly for how I felt. The entire club knew someone triggered the alarm. Since they escorted me downstairs by the elbow, I assumed everyone would know it was me who fucked up.
“Barely anyone bat an eye, Margaux. Those trigger alarms go off constantly. At least twice a night. Most of the time it’s just someone getting scared and the scene going a little too far. Thankfully, there hasn’t been a truly horrible instance I’ve heard about.”
“I keep replaying the interaction repeatedly in my head.” I tell him. He’s there, and willing to listen. I’m so mortified and worried that I need to someone to talk to. Given he’s a Dom as well, I figure at the very least he can empathize if not understand completely.
“We just started. I’d barely said hello. They went and changed, and Lazlo was acting a little weird. And I asked him what was wrong. He said to me that if I didn’t know, then he questioned how in tune with them I truly was.”
I snapped the crop on his thigh for impertinence. It wasn’t even that hard. There wasn’t even a mark. I just don’t understand.
I thought talking about it would make me feel better. It didn’t. In fact, it wound me up even more. Maybe Lazlo was right. Perhaps I didn’t understand either of them.
“I wish I would have just cancelled on tonight. I wanted to. It’s been such a shitty day already.”
9
It felt like a summons. It wasn’t, of course. Gideon—or Master Gideon—had requested, via the security team, for a meeting at a bar a few blocks away from the club. It had been a full week since I’d put a stop to our scene with Margaux. What a mess.
Thanks to my sounding the alarm, we had to spend a mandatory thirty days' separation from one another. Poor Dax was beside himself. He desperately wanted to get word to Margaux that we still cared for her. Every night he admonished me for not approaching the situation in a better way.
He wasn’t the only one doing any admonishing. My self-flagellation could have made even the club's most feared Sadist look like a teddy bear. I should have never called Red. At the moment, I felt like it was the only way to get her to listen to me. To understand the seriousness of what we felt, and how invisible we’d become. I never meant for her to be reprimanded.
“Lazlo, Dax, thank you so much for meeting me.”
Gideon stood from where he sat at the back of the bar. Outside of the dim lights of the club, he looked affable, friendly even.
“Can you please tell Margaux how sorry we are?”
The moment we sat down; Dax was already apologizing.
“I assure you Margaux is not mad.” Gideon offered, placing a comforting hand on Dax’s. “She’s perplexed. Worried about her skills as a Domme. Concerned that you are hurting and don’t have anyone to support you. I told her I would see if you’d be willing to meet with me. Maybe I can be an unbiased intermediary.”
“Jesus Lazlo, you really fucked up.” Dax tossed his phone on the table. He shook his head at me, the look in his eyes filled with disgust. “I told you. I fuckingtoldyou to go in there like an adult and just tell her you wanted to talk. But you’re a chickenshit.”
He wasn’t wrong, but he was also an asshole. I did what I did for both of us. Neither of us felt fully satisfied with the progression of things. I simply pushed the issue.
“What’s he talking about?” Gideon looked between the two of us.
“It’s now or never, Lazlo. You dropped this nuke—figure out how to fix all that scorched earth.”
“I need to re-assert that no one is angry.” Gideon glanced from me to Dax and back again, “Margaux is not in trouble. No one is being reprimanded. This separation period is just standard practice at Club Sin whenever someone triggers the alarm. It’s a precaution.”
Gideon held up his hands between the two of us as if trying to calm dueling vipers and he feared getting bit.
“If you wouldn’t mind starting from the beginning, Lazlo.”
Dax and I explained how desperately we wanted more with Margaux. That we’d been together for over a year. How despite us never clearly defining what it meant for us to play together, we’d hoped eventually she would be as interested in us and we were with her.
“We want her to wantmorewith us.” Dax explained.
“She knows next to nothing about us. I don’t even think she knows our last names.” I add.
Gideon listened, nodding when appropriate, but allowed us the space to lay everything out on the table. It felt good, freeing even. While technically also a Dom, and a leader at Club Sin, he was so approachable it felt as if we’d been friends for years. It was just three guys having a drink, and not a Master disciplining two wayward subs.
“I hear everything you are saying.” Gideon inserted after a moment of silence, “But you also have to realize that Margaux’s responsibility as your Domme is to keep you safe, and ensure you feel comfortable at the Club. She does that by respecting your privacy, honoring your anonymity, and ensuring that what happens at the club stays there. I have to say, guys, this falls on the two of you. Communication is the key to every relationship. That is no different for club relationships. If you want more, you need to ask her for it.While I am quite certain that Margaux is a fantastic Domme, and can read your cues like a well-worn book, she isn’t a mind reader.”
The weight of the realization of what we did hung heavy on my shoulders. I could barely keep my head up. I felt so embarrassed. Gideon was right. We could have rectified the entire situation had we just told her how we felt.
