"I can't help feeling ashamed of myself." Ilona Paisley observed ruefully. "I mean. . well, look at me. My hands tied behind my back. . and this collar! It won't come off, not ever. It's terribly revealing, about me."
"It's darling. You look sweet with it on your neck." Susan said firmly. "I'm going to ask her to rivet one on me." She sighed ecstatically. "Isn't Cicely just super! She does everything so absolutely right."
"Mmmmmmm. . yes, she's? oh, I don't have words. ." Ilona gazed up lovingly at the eager young face that could not go away. "She's loaned us our? I mean, her bed, so we can talk for the afternoon, and she's left us free enough to do what we like."
Susan giggled. "I'm more free than you are, Mistress. You've got the collar and chain to that ring in the floor and your right ankle is handcuffed to my left."
"That's not so bad." Ilona sighed. "You can't run away."
"As if I'd want to!" Susan sighed dreamily. "I'm going to eat you some more in a minute." She rattled their handcuff happily. "I can't stop thinking how lucky we were.
That split link. . jeepers!"
"I never got the rights of that." Ilona admitted. "And I don't think you should call me Mistress any more, Mistresses don't wear collars, not iron one's."
"Well, never mind." Susan used a free hand to caress the two nipples pointing up at her from the bed. "I think you're gorgeous, and the split link is a dohickey you screw up or down so you can splice a chain or take it apart. They're supposed to be tight but this one wasn't, I could screw it with my fingers. I discovered it the second day, but I was really naughty. I didn't let on. I kept it for emergencies. I have to be punished, of course."
"Damn the punishment, you saved our lives."
"It was awful, wondering what was wrong and what I ought to do. I felt so guilty setting myself free. Cicely's so adorable. I knew about the blacksmith shop, so I picked up those bolt cutters." Susan stuck out a tantalizing tongue. "Darling Mistress, how'd it be if I untie your hands, I do so want them?"
"I want them too. But, no, we'd both be punished."
"I could tie you again before Cicely came?"
"The only reason they're tied is to tempt us." Ilona laughed. "No, leave 'em be.
They don't really stop me doing anything I want."
"I'm glad those men won't die. I thought Cicely was going to kill them when she went for the gun? she should have killed them but there'd have been such a fuss."
Susan mused happily. "We're all so terribly lucky."
It was true. Ilona looked up in adoration. She wished her hands weren't tied. She longed to hold Susan's vivid nakedness in her arms and squeeze it tight. But she would not complain, they had it good. Still puzzled, she asked:
"And Cicely bought you when she bought me. . and kept you hidden?"
"Not really, Ilona dear." Susan grimaced. "We wondered if we should tell you, but I guess it's best. I got sent to the brothel."
"You! Oh, Susan darling. . !"
"Well, don't take on too badly, beautiful Mistress. I refused to let it get to me. If I couldn't stop men sticking their ugly damn things in me I'd just pretend it wasn't happening. Darling, all sorts of men fucked me but I never once climaxed."
The girl was glowingly immaculate, eternally virgin, radiant. Ilona thrust from her own consciousness thought that Susan's plump neat cunt had been pierced by other than a female tongue. Her shining bush of pubic hair and the pouting lips below remained unsullied, they enticed her now. But there were still questions: "Then how. . How did you get here?"
Susan giggled. "When Cicely discovered how much you and I were fond of each other she thought I'd be a useful hostage to make you behave. But after she'd fallen in love with you she decided to give me to you as a present? but even then. . !"
Susan shrugged and gave her pixie grin. "That's where we are now, darling. Don't let's worry about it. Poor dear Cicely will have to sort us out. She's so wonderful, and I'm so grateful to her for buying me. She paid the most awfully huge sum of money?
Gosh, all that for just a girl!"
"You're not just a girl. You're Susan, you're special."
"Mmmmm, that's what I mean about us all being lucky." Susan's face clouded.
"Poor 'Tonia and Griselda, they're still in the brothel. They hated it so much, and they'l never, never be able to escape. Do you think Cicely would buy them too? I've been afraid to ask."
"She won't punish you for asking. Susan, tell me about. . that place. I know it's morbid, but I want to know what I missed."
"I don't know much about it, only the place where we were imprisoned and the things we had to do. They whipped us horribly if we didn't behave. It wasn't a nice sort of whipping to make a girl's pussy excited, it simply made you want to curl up and die. Poor 'Tonia, they had to whip her something awful and tied her down before she'd let a man get inside her."
Ilona could envision it, seeing herself in similar plight, fighting hopelessly the female fight before conceding victory to the whip and lying passively with open legs and surrendered sex. In vivid sympathy she asked: "Did she adjust? Did it become bearable for her?"
"No. They weren't a bit pleased with her. They'd probably sell her real cheap."
"But how did you know??"
Susan laughed. "Oh, it was all very well set up. We were kept in a row of cells, one girl to a cage. The walls were mostly stone, but the one to the passage was all bars and a bit of each sidewall was bars too so the girls could talk and see each other. They figured we'd perform better if we weren't isolated, we'd be happier. They threatened us with a solitary cell but Griselda and I never gave 'em an excuse to put us in there." Susan chuckled. "I'm afraid we weren't a bit respectable. We did what we were told."
"You were just locked up, otherwise free?"
"Gosh, no! The door wasn't even locked? except at night after the last customer had gone. Every girl was chained some way to the wall. Her wrist, her neck, her waist or her ankle. The chain didn't have to be all that long to give us the run of the cell but it was never long enough to let us get to the door. When a customer came we had to kneel down and bow our heads until he told us what he wanted. My chain was on my wrist. I suppose you'd call it a shackle. Anyhow, there was no way I could get out of it, they locked it tight. Griselda's was on her neck, sort of like you are now, darling, 'cept her collar wasn't as pussy perking as your's. It was just a round ring, but there was no way she was going to get out of that either. Poor 'Tonia, they put all four chains on her just to show who was boss."
"Always naked, I suppose?"
"No, they had a cute little trick they played on the customers. We had to wear panties. But after he'd told us what he wanted we got up and first thing took the panties off." Susan laughed at the memory. "Oh, darling, you should have seen the way their eyes bugged. I think a girl could conquer the world with her pubic hair? if she was free."
In silence, they contemplated the improbable. It was Susan who eventually voiced their deepest concern:
"Mistress. . darling, everything's so wonderful, but what about you and me?"
Ilona grinned ruefully. "I don't think you should call me Mistress any more. Right now, the way I'm tied, you're closer to being my Mistress than I your's."
"Mmmmm, isn't it nice!" Susan thrust her knee hard within the heated cleft between Ilona's thighs, her fingers teased Ilona's nipples. "I could do anything I like with you. In a minute I will."
"I never was a very good Mistress, was I."
"You were terribly sweet and terribly lost. Wouldn't you like to go back to being the stern publisher with me nicely chained up to come home to every evening? Cicely would let you go, Wouldn't she?"
"I can't think straight while you play with my nips like that." Ilona complained happily "And, no, Cicely won't let me go."
"Oh alright then." The wicked young fingertips fell away from the hard buds they had created. "But have you asked her?"
"No."
Susan bent and kissed two willing lips. "You don't want to be free, do you? You want to belong to Cicely, same as I want to?"
"Yes."
"Poor darling!" Susan chuckled gleefully. "'Cept for our ages you're just the same as me. Way underneath somewhere you always were." She grinned ruefully.
"Trouble is we're going to feel awful silly being slavegirls together. I'll probably love it, but it's awkward for you. You and Cicely have a love affair going. I think you'd better both be my Mistresses. You two can do what you like but if you both whip me a little every day and keep me nicely tied we'd have a really groovy thing going."
"Susan, you're impossible?!"
"You're both impossible." Cicely had walked in unobserved, complete with jodhpurs, white silk shirt and whip. "I've been listening outside the door to the two of you making mountains out of molehills. The answer to the whole thing is simple.
There's no way I'll let you loose. You both belong to me. Anytime you feel awkward or silly, just tell me and I'll thrash it out of you. Understood?"
"Yeeees, . Mistress."
"Susan, untie her hands. That bit of rope was to tempt you." Cicely, in quiet control, watched the tugging of cord. When she spoke again her voice was crisp. "I did a bit of thinking while those two bastards were doing what they did to us. I thought damn hard about that whipping they promised me. I've never been whipped." She took a deep breath. "You are going to whip me now."
The impossible: The exquisite: A feast of lust: A cruel beauty: A breathtaking tenderness of love. . ! Ilona's mind was in turmoil. Her limbs were free but they obeyed a will stronger than her own. The collar riveted on her neck was her only bond. She viewed what her eyes beheld as a picture of herself. She was one with Cicely, her alter-ego.
Susan understood. Susan was infinitely wise. Cicely was as though drugged, her eyes alight with a vision of her own, her naked loveliness passive to the will of nymphet mischief. Ilona believed she herself could not have obeyed. But Susan could obey. Susan understood. Susan would whip her Mistress in a joy of sharing an ultimate quintessence of emotion.
Ilona watched a tumescent dream of beauty as naked arms were raised and female wrists strapped tight, her mind echoing Cicely's last words: "You are both free, darlings. Whip me. Then leave me tied naked to the post. Do what you like. Do anything. Ilona, if you order Josh to strike the collar from your neck he will do so."
The cringe and the wince, but also the flare of concupiscence at the sound of thong on female flesh and sight of a red line springing into glorious life on virgin skin. The richest girl in Texas had never been whipped, never, never, never. But she was being whipped now. The soft planes of her back, her curvaceous derriere, the round softness of her thighs were offering themselves as the strapped bare arms raised to receive the benediction of the Post. The richest girl in Texas absorbed her pain with no more than a long in-drawn breath.
Susan was a vision of youth, her poised nudity, the long sweep of arm, the twist of hips as she pivoted on the ball of one bare foot to make the air sing to the knifing of her leather lash. Her features were alight, eyes sparkling, intent and entranced.
There could be no doubting the rapport between the whipper and the whipped.
The screams were long in coming. They were preceded by feminine sounds and feminine motions Ilona recognized though they were her own. Cicely was not being heroic, she was a woman walking slowly into a strange land, her steps punctuated by the whine and impact of the whip across her back, her bottom or her thighs.
Sometimes there was the creaking of the straps as her hands sought to escape the security of the tight leather bands. When she began to respond with screams they were not of panic nor of terror, they were a contralto of acknowledgement, of an emotion long deferred, of proud fulfilment.
The lovely legs were passive under Susan's hands, separating themselves under the small slaps of admonition. Cicely could scarcely doubt the intent of this opening of her thighs, but she gave no sign and made no sound of protest as it was done to her.
When the whip cut within the cleft thus formed her scream had a new quality of exultation, her feet remained wide apart to receive what Susan chose to give. Ilona watched the forming of the weals, agonizing but fascinated, her love welling to adoration for a woman whose chosen immolation was a gift to the two who were free.
Five strokes within the open sex of a Mistress no longer a Mistress. Five cries of sexual agony. The madly working hips and loins of orgasm. Susan reached within the cleft and palmed below the thrusting Venus mound. Her hand came away slimed and glistening. She showed it joyously to the girl who watched, then raised it to captive lips. The woman who had been a Mistress licked it dry and whispered:
"Don't stop, Susan, I've not been whipped enough." As though in reassurance she added: "Darling, I love you."
The lash etched its most vivid stripe on captive skin. They left their Mistress strapped to the post. Cicely said no word and made no sign when Susan said, with finality:
"That's enough. I won't whip her any more, Ilona. She's a darling, she's marvellous."
They walked away and left the sweat bedewed nudity of their love to her dreams and her pain. Both girls had been so often whipped they knew their Mistress's agony past and done. She would be alone now with tenderness, memory, and perhaps humility. It did not matter.
"The bedroom!" Ilona whispered urgently. "We should be ashamed but we're both horny. I'm ready to burst."
They scrambled for the sheets. But Ilona paused. "Lock the chain to my collar."
She demanded urgently. "It wouldn't feel right?"
Susan clicked the padlock. When their successive explosions had exhausted them into whisperings she asked, impishly: "Darling one time Mistress, d'you realize I own you both? I've got you. You're both helpless."
"Keep us, Susan. Would it give you pleasure?"
"Of course it would, silly, I'd love it. I'd be so mean. But it wouldn't last. I'm a slavegirl. I'd let you loose and ask for my punishment in a couple of hours or a couple of days." She grinned her pixie grin. "Ilona dear, if I ever give way to such temptations please make sure I'm terribly punished."
"You'll be punished quite enough." Ilona chided. "Cicely and I both know you adore it."
"As long as it's you two. I don't want to be punished by Josh or Nora. Darling, I still have to be punished for that loose link in my chain, the one I kept secret." Susan sighed. "I know it turned out for the best all round but just the same I was guilty."
"And you've got another wet pussy just thinking about it."
Susan made a moue of apology. "I've always got a wet pussy. I'm just plain bad.
I'm going to have you here safely chained and go and whip Cicely some more?"
"Don't you dare!" Ilona sat upright, eyes blazing, her chain pendent between her breasts.
Susan clapped her hands in delight. "See how helpless you are! You can't stop me."
Ilona tugged at her chain in disgust. "Damn. . and I asked for this myself!
Look, Susan, if you want to whip a girl whip me."
Carnality possessed them in a jumble of female arms and legs and thrusting mounds after Ilona's chain had fallen to the floor under Susan's key. Sheepish and sweating they eyed each other guiltily. "And poor darling Cicely's out there strapped to that damn post" Ilona mourned. "And look at us!"
"Don't fret." Susan chided, "She knows what we're doing. I think I should be whipped next, then you can make her happy between her legs while I stay strapped to the post."
"Stop exciting yourself, you little mink." Ilona's voice turned thoughtful. "We've got some decisions, y'know. Or have you forgotten?" She held up unfettered hands.
"We're both free."
"Maybe you've got a decision." Susan said vehemently, "But I haven't. When we unstrap Cicely I'm going to insist on being punished. Once I'm strapped to that post it's the end of my freedom." Her eyes sparkled. "I've never been whipped at that post: I've got a thing about it."
"But, Susan, she won't feel like?!"
"You can whip me then. Promise?"
"Oh alright. I'll probably be out of patience enough to enjoy it. The way you carry on. . !"
"None of your playful pats, Ilona dear. Hard, so it hurts?"
"Yes, Susan, I'll whip you harder than you want. Now stop nagging."
Happy in their love they went downstairs and out into the sunlight. But as they approached the white figure at the whipping post their mood changed, the weals on the white skin reached out and touched their hearts, the lovely nudity was pressed hard against the wood in the seeking of a solace Ilona remembered all too well. For a minute they stood in reverence, breathless before beauty. Then Ilona took Susan by the arm and led her away. They trod silently. Cicely appeared to have been unaware of their proximity.
Once out of earshot, Susan whispered: "But, darling, we're not going to just leave her like that? What are we going to do?" She sighed in exasperation. "This being free is for the birds. . no end to lousy decisions."
"You've enjoyed it this far."
"Well, yes. . But what now!"
"I'll think of something." Said Ilona quietly. "Come along."
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