Forty Three
Though rarely offered the bliss of removal, I am happy that my head cage has not been hot riveted in place as with my other heavy irons. It remains padlocked, Miss Lucinda procuring a more suitable antique lock that complements the iron, though I fear it will rust closed.
Wearing the weighty device, looking at the world through a collection of narrow bars, can be dispiriting. But then Miss Lucinda will come into occasional view and knowing that I don the confining mass at her behest serves to hearten. But as stated, it obviates contact, and memories of humbly kissing the feet of my superior and licking her calves have me pining for its removal.
Day in, day out I menially work the pump while Miss Lucinda performs tasks of more substance. Within weeks of being riveted within t
