Josh was flattered, he was intrigued, he was curious. But he was not alone in his smithy. Nora, her feet still heavily ironed, clanked inhibited steps to greet them with open arms. 'You're free.' She exulted. 'And you've come to get rid of your collar.
She told me what she was going to do. She's one strange wonderful lady and she loves you like crazy. The Whipping she's just taken is her way of telling you.' Nora looked down woefully at her captive feet, lifting a heavily laden ankle to extract a metallic response from the cruel links. 'I've still got these. Looks like I'll wear 'em the rest of my life.'
'Josh, I want you to strike those irons off Nora's feet.'
Ilona's order was incisive.
'Ah can't do it, Miz Paisley. Ah takes mah orders offen the Boss Lady.'
'You're going to take the collar from my neck?'
'She tell me to. That O.K.'
'Josh, take those irons off Nora and I'll let you fuck me. You've been wanting to ever since I came.'
Josh beamed. 'Sho' 'nuff, Miz Paisley, fuckin' yo' 'ud be a real pleasuring fer me.
But no way! If I dared take them irons off Nora I'd have had 'em off afore now.'
'And you can fuck me too, Josh dear.' Susan's voice was the cooing of doves, the siren song of man's undoing. She thrust her nakedness hard against the sweating male and hugged him hard. It was a deployment of female weaponry against which Josh had no defence.
'S'posin' ah knocks off them irons? Mebbee yo' just laugh yo' heads off?' He temporized doubtfully.
Susan kicked and tossed and spread a couple of jute sacks on the smithy floor.
Blatantly laying on them she opened her legs wide. 'Me now, Ilona after you've done the job. Fair enough?'
It was fair enough. Fumbling at his pants, the ranch handy-man stepped forward to claim his prize.
Ilona wanted to giggle. Josh in shirt-tail, busily thrusting, was purely ludicrous. He would be ludicrous when he impaled her too. It did not matter, it was the only way to look at male compulsion to plant sperm. Laugh! Obeying her signal, Nora placed the box, sat on it and lifted a shackled ankle to the anvil. Josh, sweating and proud, sought tools. When the clanging and the clatter was done and Nora stood free, the former Miss Ilona Paisley of Paisley Publications took her place upon the sacks, still warm from Susan's heat, spread herself to outrageously expose her sex, and invited a glowing and enraptured coloured man to the carnal enjoyment of her cunt.
'Yo' ladies sure is somethin'.' Josh, sweating and proud, surveyed his trio of nudities. 'Yo' all do me the honor o' takin' a little drink?'
They did him the honor. They shared his pride. If the glasses were a little soiled what did it matter! They all downed doubles.
'And now I strikes off yer collar, Miz Paisley.' Josh shook his head regretfully.
'Sho' do look pretty on yo'.'
'Don't bother, Josh. I'm wearing it for always.'
Silence held the smithy like a vice. Ilona was the focus of three pairs of startled eyes. Josh was puzzled. 'Boss Lady say yo' go free, Miz Paisley? I takes off collar?'
'I don't want to go free, Josh.' Ilona spoke with the strength of decision. 'I don't want to lose my collar, I've got used to it. It's a lovely collar.'
'Why, thank yo', Miz Paisley. Ah sho' does?'
'Now I want you to rivet a similar collar on Susan.' The new silence might have lasted forever had it not been for Susan's breathless: 'Oh, darling. . darling. .
darling!'
Josh was an artist in iron. Fascinated, the three girls watched his skill fashion the heavy ring Susan might wear throughout her life. When the time came for the girl to place her neck within the iron and bow to the anvil as a tribute to lost liberty there was a reverent hush before the splat of hammer on rivet pealed its message of finality.
Susan rose to her feet, dazed with happiness, her fingers busy at her neck.
Impetuously, she hugged and kissed her audience of three. In Ilona's ear she whispered: 'Its made me horny, I've never been so horny in my life?!'
Ilona patted the glowing cheek and kissed the eager lips.
'You'll have to wait.' She said crisply. 'I'm not finished with you.' She turned to a worshipful Josh: 'Now iron her feet.'
One a moment of shock. Then Nora's agonized plea. 'Not these awful things?
not on Susan! Oh, please?'
'Them mighty heavy for little gal', Miz Paisley. Yo' don' want her draggin' her pretty ass? I got me a set??'
Ilona was relieved. The discarded shackles were too brutal for Susan's girlishness.
Those Josh now held for inspection were a perfect compromise, they would never allow Susan to ignore them. She nodded approval.
'Oh, darling, thank you, thank you!' Sitting on the box, a naked Susan watched the hammer fetter her ankles for life. Her eyes were sparkling. 'Ohhhh. . I'm going to make such lovely sounds when I walk.'
They laughed with her at the first experimental steps and her shock at unexpected weight. But Ilona was wasting no time. Her command to Josh was stem. 'Now mine.' She took her place on the box. 'The same as you've put on Susan will do fine for me too.'
Back outdoors, Susan giggled while Ilona tested the surprising weight of her chosen footwear. But Nora was perturbed.
'You two's got yourselves fixed but good.' She wailed.
'But what am I supposed to do?'
'I'm sure Josh would rivet your irons back on,' said Susan archly.
'I'll ask Cicely to have him drive you to town.' Ilona decided.
'You're not in much of a position to ask anything, Miss Paisley.'
They clinked their newly shackled steps back to the post. Without a word the straps were loosed from tired wrists. Cicely Woods turned her wealed nudity to survey a sheepish feminine trio who knew not what to say. She said it for them, crisply.
'You are quite ridiculous.'
'Yes, Mistress.'
'Nora, why are you free?'
'I don't rightly know, Miss.'
'Go back to Josh and have him iron you again. Hurry.' With surprising alacrity the maid vanished. Cicely focused on the two chained nudities. Her voice was quietly pensive. 'I've been whipped, and I'm glad. It hasn't changed me. A dozen whippings
