The Chain Harness
Sir walked over to the center platform where I was still kneeling in slave position B. I stiffened in the stance at His approach and dared not move my eyes from forward.
He slowly ran the rubber bulb up and down my stomach: “I hope you saw that discipline of Tyler-boy as a lesson for you, too,” Sir said to me.
I was terrified! The Man was totally unpredictable despite all his rules for behavior.
“Have you ever been gut punched, boy?” He asked me, pushing the rubber bulb into my navel.
“Sir, yes, Sir!” I answered immediately, struggling to hold the slave B position.
“And where was that? College?” He asked.
“Sir, yes, Sir!” I responded. “Sir, it was part of submission wrestling, Sir!”
“Interesting,” He said. “I’ve had a lot of boys down here who did submission wrestling.”
It was a statement, not a question, so I didn’t respond.
“And what did you think of gut punching, boy?” came the next question.
“Sir, it really hurt, Sir!” I said truthfully.
“Were you tied up, boy?” He then asked.
“Sir, no, Sir,” I said. “Sir, other guys held me, Sir.”
“Well, that’s even sexier,” He said. “But down here there’s only me, so I use heavy bondage. Despite all the training, there are few lads who can take discipline without bondage. Anyway, bondage looks better on video,” He added.
OMG, I had forgotten about the friggin’ videocam facing me. It wasn’t just so He could watch me. Like the executive retreat tortures, all the went into Their video business to finance the whole pervy operation.
“And so we move on,” Sir said to me. “Slave dickie-boy, atten…tion!”
I jumped up from the kneeling position as fast as I could. My leg muscles and joints complained; they were cramped tightly. Then I braced into the military position, eager to follow his command after His brutalization of Tyler. Sir went to the equipment wall and returned with a complicated set of chains hanging from a very large, heavy metal collar.
He laughed a little as He said: “This is the dress code for the discipline hole where you will spend the night,”
Dress code, indeed. It was a heavy chain harness. He fitted the ridiculously thick metal collar around my neck, compressing my slave collar against my throat. I could breath without effort, but swallowing was a tad hard. He locked the front of the collar with a heavy padlock. The collar must have weighed over twenty-five pounds alone, let alone the weight of the chains. Then metal cuffs went on my wrists and ankles, all made of heavy metal. They were all linked by thick metal chain. The chain to my wrists was short and held my hands at waist level.
“Stand here while I release Terry-boy from the wall. Then you go into the hole!”
NEXT: Ch 19, Down the Rabbit Hole