It's not like Genie doesn't know the answer to that. But Foster can take a cue--at least, he can take this one, and the way his heart is racing, his blood running in hot streams down his chest and arm, the aching muscle underneath the cuts she'd made...

He's so happy, so excited to serve her whim.

Threats, fear--even little doses make him feel so much more alive.

"Of course!"

What he brings her is... a selection. Metal handcuffs, leather, jute rope, even a length of chain, which he'd scavenged on impulse. He offers them to her with obvious pleasure--at least she has a selection.