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A string of lotion-covered condoms is released from where they’ve been pinned, swinging down toward him. The slimy missiles smack him across the face with loudthwacksas Jax curses, trying to slap them out of the way.

Dodging as many as he can, he takes a few more steps toward the hall, then hits a puddle of lube on the floor. Losing all grip, Jax slides across the hardwood, arms flailing and feet strugglingto stay under him. He slides right into the hallway, only to land smack-dab into a wall of Saran Wrap coated in a layer of hairspray. The plastic clings to him, and he struggles to tear it off his face while twisting in a circle and trying to keep his feet under him from the slippery lube.

“Jesus Chr—” Jax reaches for something to keep himself upright and grabs a conspicuously dangling string of Christmas lights. They pull free from the wall and release the next contraption, a broom hooked up to the ceiling with a paddle attached to the end. It swings down and smacks him right on the ass.

He yelps, then run-slips away from the attack toward the living room, where he trips on a wire, landing face-first into a pile of flour. He groans, cursing under his breath, then slowly lifts himself to standing, absolutely covered in white powder.

“Now!” I shout, bursting from my hiding spot behind the tree.

Jax screams, a high-pitched sound unlike anything I thought he was capable of. I shove him backward just as Ellie appears, dodging the lube on the floor, and pushes the rolling office chair at him from behind. The seat hits his knees and he buckles, sitting on it. Ellie grabs a string of Christmas lights and we pass it back and forth, wrapping him up nice and tight. Just to be safe, I grab my pink handcuffs and clap one loop over his wrist and the other onto the plastic arm of the chair.

“What the hell is going on!” Jax shouts, fighting against his sudden restraints.

Ellie and I are huffing, adrenaline coursing through our veins as we stand before him. Ellie places her hands on her hips and I cross my arms, like we’re some sort of badass girl band.

He pulls at his cuffs, then reaches with his free hand to wipe his face. “Mariah? What are you doing here?”

Ellie and I share a smirk, enjoying the scene before us. Big, badass Matthew Jackson handcuffed to a chair with white powder all over his face, wrapped up in twinkling red and green lights like the best Christmas present we never knew we needed.

“Can someone explain to me what the fuck is happening?” He fights his restraints and the cords squeak. I panic, not sure if they’ll hold him. We need to move on to phase three of our plan, fast.

“We brought you here to pay for your crimes against femdom,” Ellie explains, pacing slowly in front of him. “It seems you have a problem, Matt. Or is it Jax?”

Jax’s eyes dart from Ellie to me, his posture shifting slightly as he does, as if he’s not quite sure which rendition of himself he should be right now. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re going to sit there, clearly caught by two women you’ve been playing, and continue to lie to us?” Ellie asks.

He licks his lips, then regrets his decision, spitting out a gob of flour. “That’s not what happened.”

I sneer. “Then explain to us, whatdidhappen?”

“I just—I—it’s not every day you meet—”

“Someone so special,” Ellie and I parrot in unison.

Ellie mocks him, opening and closing her hand while mouthingblah blah blah. “We heard that one before,” she continues. “Got any more canned lines you feed to every woman who crosses your path?”

I sigh. “Face it, Jax. You’ve been caught. Fess up.”

He puffs out his chest, mouth hanging open, searching for words, and then deflates. “Fine. Okay. I was seeing you both at the same time. That’s not a crime. But this might be!” He fights the blinking red-and-green-lit cords again. “Let me go!”

“Not so fast.” I press a hand against his chest and force him to make eye contact with me. “Not until you see the error of your ways.”

“The error of my—” He huffs, annoyed. “Everyone sees multiple people now. It’s not just me! You gonna tie up and torture every dude you cross paths with?”

I grit my teeth, pissed that it’s not sinking in. “It’s men like you that give other men a bad name.”

Jax shakes his head. “Everything we did was consensual.”

“We never consented to you seeing other people,” I say, pointing between Ellie and me. “In fact, we both talked to you about that separately and you lied.”

He has the audacity to look confused. “Haven’t you ever heard of polyamory?”

Ellie raises her voice, enunciating every word. “There’s a difference between ethical non-monogamy and what it isyoudo. You? You’re a fuckboy. You do and say whatever it takes to get in someone’s pants. You come up with elaborate bullshit stories, even modifying your personality, to fit whoever it is you’re trying to lay. You get them all excited about who you are and keep them hooked until you tire of them, and then you let them go. You see multiple women at a time without their knowledge, even denying the fact that it’s happening.”

He has enough of a conscience to look a bit sorry, turning his gaze to the floor.

“Admit it,” I spit, my voice cold and harsh.