Chapter Five
402 Words
Chapter Five
“I’ll be home in thirty minutes, Chrissy... with a guest for dinner. Chill some wine and have the dining room table set.”
“No, no please Miss Linda... there’s nothing for me to wear.”
“You’ll be naked as always. And Chrissy, I want you in full make up. It’s my boss... I want to impress her.”
Deliberately letting Rhonda overhear, Linda turns off her cell phone, returning it to her pocket.
“Obedient... yet shy. But I suppose that makes it entertaining,” reaching to Rhonda Flamboise to take back the food package. “I think you’ll like the chicken, broiled with a tangy barbecue sauce.”
“I’m sure it will be fine. As will Chrissy. So you have a maid and a houseboy?”
Perhaps emboldened by the brew... possibly the sense of relief in airing the fabricated report... Linda downloads.
“Only a houseboy. But really... gender neutral. Had him snipped... they serve better... and the loyalty is remarkable.”
“Yes, so I have heard. Still I prefer intact and kept chaste. Something for them to desire... but always to be withheld.”
The words bring further relief. It seems Rhonda Flamboise is indeed one of us, Linda realizes. Still she decides not to pry. In heading to the subway, Linda’s burden lifting, the conversation returns to Mansfield.
“Though certain aspects of my report were... let’s term it devised... I assure you Mansfield is under wraps. In fact I have an agreement, in time he’ll be returned to the U.S. Serve his time.”
“And the circumcision?”
“Actually he’s been degloved. A simple procedure but quite significant to the male... his p***s has been desensitized. Normal sex... masturbation... will no longer be pleasurable.”
“What of the fingerprints? Pretty crude imprints.”
“Well his hands are... surgically altered... fingers sutured together... thumbs rendered useless. They’re rather... ah... fastidious at this facility... concerning the subjugants.
“And harsh.”
Linda nods.
“Did you say subjugants?
Linda realizes the more she tries to explain the more explanation needed.
“He’s kept. At this point Federal time would seem to be a cakewalk for him, should we press for his return. It’s for the best, Rhonda. He’s... well... not so much being rehabilitated as receiving just punishment. He’s homophobic... or was homophobic. And now receiving... ah... special treatment.”
Linda detects a smile, slight, not to be fully repressed. She makes eye contact and nods, thinking of Michael the Muskat Mansfield, tethered to the sodomy frame, semen streaming down his inner thighs... Mondiva tapping, threatening with the sjambok in offering her nether lips for oral servitude.
“So I assume it’s not a Venezuelan prison?”
Linda nods in affirmation. In reaching the subway station further conversation is curtailed, the rush of trains deafening.
- Writer
