The Harem on the Hill (Part VI) (Patreon)

The following morning, you sip your coffee and monitor Tina from your office as she takes a self-guided tour of her apartment.  She’s still dressed in her robe, but has added a pint of ice cream from the freezer as an accessory.  She carries it with her from room to room, occasionally digging out bites with a spoon. 

“I don’t remember this from Architectural Digest.” 

Your home featured in Architectural Digest last year, just before you commenced your modifications.  At the time, they fussed about its external Tudor stylings juxtaposed against the Modernist-meets-Deco flourishes inside.  You’re not sure how they’d react to the basement’s functional dungeon motif.

“Do you like it?”

Tina shrugs and takes another bite.  “It’s OK.”

You had planned a game room for Tabitha and an elegant study for Bernadette, but Tina was a blank slate and you had decorated accordingly.  Although you outfitted the apartment with a tasteful selection of vintage furniture and art, you had to admit that it was rather faceless.

A heavy iron door along the wall attracts Tina's attention.  “Where does that go?” she says.

“Would you like to see?”

“Mmm-hmm.”  Tina nods as she holds the spoon in her mouth like a lollipop.  She looks like an inquisitive child.

You press a key on your keyboard and a ‘clicking’ sound comes over the monitor.  Tina tentatively pushes the door and it swings wide, flooding the room with sunlight.  She stands frozen in the doorway for a moment, shielding her eyes, and then steps outside--

You click another key and the perspective switches to an overhead view of a circular courtyard.  As Tina emerges from the edge of the screen, you zoom in on her face.  It’s in awe. 

Inspired by Monet’s garden in Giverny, the courtyard is an explosion of colors.  Roses, clematis, poppies, and sandy trails rimmed with nasturtiums.  Tina winds the path from her bedroom, crosses an arched green bridge over a Lilly-covered koi pond, to a gazebo at the courtyard’s center. 

The courtyard itself isn’t a true circle, however.  It’s actually an octagon enclosed by eight identical ivy-covered brick walls.  Each thirty feet high.  Each with a windowed embrasure near the top.  

And each inset with a handleless iron door. 

“Where do those lead?”  Tina says. 

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you that.” 

Tina sits on a swing beneath the gazebo’s canopy and continues to eat her ice cream.  “Let me guess--the gym?”

You sip your coffee and smile.  Although you're not in the same room, Tina seems to detect it and joins you with her own impish grin.

“Or is that where you hide the rest of your concubines?” 

You’re not sure if Tina’s insightfulness is alluring or alarming, but the growing stiffness in your pants suggests the former. 

How do you respond?