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She was barefoot. Her dark hair hung far down her back. I think she probably could have sat on it. She was only about five feet tall, barely that, but all muscle."'Arley," she said, with London or Bristol still on her tongue, "what'cha need? Y'wife's a'sleeping. Been at the jug, she 'as." This here ugly feller's my fren," the smith said, waving at me. "I want y'to be nice to him, swive him up one side and down t'other if he needs it. Says he does."She smiled at me and looked back at Harley. "Yes sir," she said, "I'll be banking the fire first if ye's through with it and seein' y'in the mornin' then." Thas' fine," he said with a beery smile. He waved at both of us and shuffled off to his house, climbing the steps on the hillside one at a time."'E's a good man," the young woman said. "Couldn't 'ave a better master." Her coarse dress was tattered in places and only loosely laced between her ample breasts. She looked healthy and happy.I watched her rake the coals back and cover them. Her legs werequite attractive. She looked down when I lifted her skirt. I movedthe quirt up under her chin,tilting her head back to its previous position. I circled her again,admiring how she stood there sostraight with her fingers laced behind the back of her head. I circledher again in the oppositedirection, then stood behind her, looking out at the audience. I hadtheir attention. They were alllooking at us. I put my hand around the back of her neck, turning herso her back was to theaudience and started guiding her to the pole. Brad shifted the spotto the hanging manacles, thenwidened it to include us as we reached the base of the pole. I turnedher around and backed herinto the pole, then pulled one of her arms up and locked a manaclearound her wrist. Brad hadturned on the overhead mic and the click of the manacle locking onher wrist was clearly audibleon the PA. I did her other wrist. Melinda was now standing with herback to the pole, facing theaudience, with her arms pulled.
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