Reluctantly, yes.

The avaricious gambler collapsed inside of her. Her boldness breaking away and in its a place a vicious panic rushed up from her stomach. She turned his words around and understood his meaning. If the dress was on the table, it meant she wasn’t in it. It was one thing to bid the dress in the abstract, with Daniel’s three kings in the chamber. The odds of it escaping her were low, but if she had to place it on the table, win or lose she was sacrificing her dignity. Her breath quickened as she felt all eyes turn to her, awaiting her reaction. She looked down to her outfit. They could all see from her cleavage that she wasn’t wearing a bra. Perhaps they also hoped she hadn’t worn anything below the red ribbon either but on that count she was at least covered. Without her dress only a pair of lace green panties and her red boots would protect her from the searching eyes of the Man in Green. Not to mention the hundreds of other people passing to and fro behind her. Other than the risqué leotards worn by the female dealers no one else in the entire building was dressed in less than their Sunday best. Without her dress Roslyn understood she would instantly become a spectacle not just to the other players at the table, but to all eyes within 300 feet of her.

Her heart quickened, surely this could not be allowed. Security would kick her out (hopefully after returning her dress) or shut down this table. Almost naked women wandering around can’t be healthy for the establishment's reputation. Roslyn may not have understood all the complexities of poker but this must certainly turn the game into a complete farce. Would the dealer, whom she had initially pegged as a stickler, let such a bastardization of the game stand? The silence from the table was deafening. No one was stepping in, raising objections or even announcing confusion. There was no one to save her. Even Daniel was silent, a stupefied look on his face. She knew she could turn around and walk away. Despite the bid already being made, no one would forcibly take the dress from her. Above all else the all-consuming calmness of the table would not be disturbed.

She stared into the table but could not decouple herself from it. Nor could she pull away. The diamond ring shone at its center, begging to be reunited with her finger. She could not leave it to this stranger. She took a deep breath to make up for its several missing predecessors. Without her dress she would be practically naked in front of these strangers in only her lace panties and boots. Her tits would be on display for people she didn’t even know the name of. And still as her mind raced, the Man in Green’s eyes never left hers. Not a word was spoken but his intensity rushed her forward to a decision. Her voice quivered as she finally spoke, barely audible in reply.

“Help me with… help me with my zip. Daniel.” The sentence stumbled out of her, each word rocked off course by the adrenaline coursing through her. The silence wrought by the Man in Green evolved into an even quieter anticipation. No sound escaped anyone but Roslyn could hear the figurative licking of lips around her. Daniel whispered “You’re serious?” as her own mind was erupting into discord from the very same question. She could not find the words to answer him but instead turned her back. Roslyn held her hands to her breasts, in predicting the embarrassment about to fall upon her. Daniel fumbled with the zip but eventually dragged it down. The material loosened its grip on her. Before she could make the final mental preparations for what she was about to do, the dress shot out from under her. Daniel had not understood his responsibilities ended with the zip. He had taken it upon himself to pull the dress from her. With a jolt of surprise she released her hands from her chest, and half turned to face Daniel. For several seconds the table caught an unimpeded view of Roslyn’s form. Her breasts shook from the suddenness of her turn, and her pink areolas peeked at everyone. Unshackled from the dress, her breasts returned to their original positions pointing across the table in slightly different directions. As soon as the dress hit the floor, the background chatter that had become white noise in the preceding hours melted away into an unnerving silence. She had become a spectacle. The silence was gradually replaced with whispers.

“Is she naked?”

“What is she doing?”

“Can she do that?”

“Is she wearing panties, I can’t see.”

She watched the Man in Green’s eyes flick across her body. His gaze felt like a spotlight across her and she clutched tightly to her chest. His eyes doubled back on her green panties for a moment. She wished furiously that they had been any other color. Why couldn’t she have worn her red, or black panties. Why of all days did it have to be green. She thought she noticed his lips curve into a smile, but before she could be sure Daniel was moving.

Without faltering Daniel went for the dress now at her feet. He snatched it from the floor, forcing her to gracelessly step out of it. For a moment her heel caught on the dress and she wobbled in place. She held out her arms to balance herself once again giving her onlookers another show of her body. Her tits swung in place before she steadied herself, revealing the small dark circular birthmark underneath her right breast. This hidden symbol was a trademark secret of her body only those that she was completely comfortable with had come to know, and yet now it was everyone's. She quickly sat back down in her stool. Daniel tossed the navy dress into the middle of the table. Roslyn focused in on the table, trying to ignore the chatter and eyes piercing her from the room behind her. At least a hundred eyes were watching her bare back. From a recent mole-mapping she knew that there was at least 3 on her back that all of these patrons could peruse. Others could take the time to determine if her lace green panties were see through. She didn’t think so, but with so many eyes upon her she was thrown into doubt. The last thing she needed was to give away any more of her secrets. She felt no shame about her body in the abstract, but in practice she couldn’t muster the same security in her self. At least to those at the table she was now more obscured. She could sink low enough to hide her breasts from those in front of her. Her nipples pressed against the cold steel on the rim of the table and grew stiff. Roslyn did not have the large burger sized nipples she occasionally saw on strangers that would not have been so easily covered by the rim of the table or her small hands, but nor did she have the tiny button nipples of some of her friends. Her areola were a light pink and slightly puffy that poked above the table, and would have been difficult to spot as they almost blended in with her rosy complexion (which grew paler in areas that normally did not see the sun.)

Between all the new sensations pressing onto her, she had not been able to focus on the hand of cards being played.

The dealer had seamlessly forged ahead as soon as the dress had hit the middle of the playing field. The round was over before Roslyn had acclimated to her new **** seating position. Daniel had lost. She watched as the Man in Green pulled the ring and the dress toward him. How had Daniel lost? He had the three kings. She was only supposed to be without the dress for a moment. This was just a flashing, not dinner and a show. These men and women were only going to receive a snapshot of her tender skin, they weren’t supposed to have time to study it, memorize it. But now what? How was she going to leave now? How was she going to get her dress back?

As if in answer to her internal questions, the Man in Green spoke once more.

“I’m willing to rebid the dress, or the ring,” he paused. His low voiced betrayed a hint of playfulness. The first sign of emotion in him all evening. “Whichever you prefer,” he continued.

“Put in the dress of course,” she replied as quick as a whip but still with a tremble in her voice.

The dealer was the one to reply. “You’re not the one bidding.” She spoke gently, but firmly, before turning to Daniel.

Without answering his question, Daniel replied.

“For what? I’m running on less than fumes.”

“I am always partial to more green clothes.”

Roslyn looked to the other players. The old mustached man was in a beige suit. The older woman was wearing purple, with a white feathered hat. Daniel himself had nothing of the shade on. Other than the Man in Green himself, there was only one other stitch of green fabric seated at the table, and it was the last thing still protecting the shreds of Roslyn’s modesty.

Her heart hadn’t slowed since she first lost the dress. The new wave of nervous energy flowing through her had no where to go. She looked to Daniel once again. He no longer regarded her with the shocked silence he had when she first lost the dress. Instead a look of almost balanced indifference had taken over him.