'Podded', Segment X

I signal to Bobbi to begin grilling the steaks while I pour a large goblet of Merlot. This is a big moment. I need to learn of Rhodi’s mood and mind set before presenting our naked house girl.

“Welcome home, lover,” stepping to the livingroom and holding the large glass to her lips as a sacred offering. “Steak dinner tonight with caesar salad and baked potato,” Rhodi lowering her head to sip.

She smiles faintly. Then hearing motion in the kitchen, an eyebrow rises to wordlessly inquire.

“Chef Bobbi,” I succinctly explain. “You’ll find his St. Sappho kitchen skills to be exemplary,” putting the best light on things, thinking upbeat.

“So we agreed to experiment and the very next day I have a stranger in my kitchen,” the words calm yet rebuking.

“I didn’t want him working the streets too long, Rhodi. We made a decision and I acted on it before... you know... bad things could happen.”

Rhodi nods, understanding my thinking. I present the goblet again. She sips. I am encouraged to see her again smile. Acceptance? Or finding the alcohol welcomed.

“So the negligee,” finally acknowledging my attire, noting it veils little of my charms. “For me... or you teasing the chastised house boy... house girl...whatever?”

“For you my love. But it also makes a statement. Thought I’d demonstrate that as a servant... a naked servant... we need not be modest with Bobbi about... ah... how we... you know. He’s harmless. You’ll see. Nothing needs to change concerning...”

“Fucking,” Rhodi completing my thoughts most coarsely.

“We need not be furtive, that’s all. Come let me show you. I’ve brought some stuff from the hospital.”

I decide it is best to further assuage Rhodi’s concerns before formally introducing Bobbi. I lead to the spare bedroom, designated as mine early in our relationship.

“He’ll stay here.”

I have laid out the purloined Posey gear, the long straps slipped under the bedroom’s mattress and attached to waiting wrist and ankle cuffs. The restraints lie at the four corners, at day’s end Bobbi to lie supine, held just as he spent every night under my tutelage at St. Sappho. 

“It’s termed four point restraint. While not being of use, he’ll not move about, disturb... you know... while we’re sleeping.”

“Fucking,” Rhodi again brashly corrects. “He’ll let you do that?”

“Oh, yes. He’s obedient. He knows that... well... the many months of being a handler sort of... ah... brings a girl to enjoy...”

“Fucking with his mind,” Rhodi again explicitly completes my thought.

“There’s more to the system... the restraint system. Couldn’t slip all the stuff in my hand bag. But what I brought will suffice for tonight.”

“More?” 

“Very restrictive neck collar... prosthetic in immobilizing the head... and more straps... at the thighs, waist and biceps.”

I am heartened to see Rhodi suppressing a smile. It would seem that although Bobbi has a penis, strict bondage counters any concerns over displays of male superiority. Plus her latent propensity for dominance shows from time to time. Is this one of them?

“You know how to do this? Strap a boy down? Safely?”

I smile and nod, vigorously. Immediately realizing that with my enthusiastic response I am exposing my own propensity.

“Nursing school, Rhodi. There are patients who need to be prevented from injuring themselves. Part of the training,” probably a futile cover.

“Steaks, Miss Joan,” Bobbi calls out from the kitchen, gratefully ending the awkward exchange.

“Give me one second to get out of this business suit,” Rhodi needing to be more comfortable.

And I need her to be comfortable as well.