EXTRACT FOR
Harder Slave Training
(Miranda Birch)

As it happened, we kept Gregory on the hook for three hours -- which is just about as much as even a man as tough as he can stand without actually passing out. He was in quite a state when we winched him down and his relief was very evident when the shackles were removed. his wrists and ankles were chaffed and a broad red band encircled half his waist, where he had taken his own weight on the iron waist-band. 



With heaving shoulders he crouched on the stone floor, striving to pull himself together somewhat and re- gather his strength. I gave him a few minutes to do this, while Maxine was putting away the manacles and chains. 



"Now some leather, I think," I said when she was done. 



"Righty-ho!" she responded, and went striding off to a second chest. 



"Mercy..." I heard Gregory groan. It was the first word he had spoken. I ignored the plea completely. Any man who puts himself under my control is aware from the start he can expect no mercy from me! I could grant it if I so desired, but he had not right to ask it or expect it. That was one of the conditions of servitude to me. 



Maxine returned with an assortment of leather gear and Gregory was soon nicely trussed up. Once again I assisted Maxine in putting on the gear. 



When we had finished, Gregory was costumed in most unusual fashion. Unusual for the outside world, that is: here, it was nothing strange at all! He had on a pair of tight, thigh-length boots secured with straps at the top. Then a pair of gloves, also fastened tight by a strap above his bulging biceps. I must emphasise that both these items were extremely tight, thus restricting and weakening the muscles. About his waist was a leather corset, the lower half of which terminated in a pair of fiercely cutting leather briefs. Three strong straps were pulled to the maximum to nip Gregory's waist in excruciatingly. Still he remained silent, though the pain and discomfort he was in was evident in his eyes. Delicious! Finally we put a leather collar about his neck, and a head-band to which was attached a strap which ran under his jaw. This was secured so that he could not open his mouth to speak. 



Gregory knelt before us, humble and submissive. Fully aware that he was but a plaything at our mercy. The leather may not have been so rigorous as the chaining but it was uncomfortable enough to bear, I was sure, especially following so soon after such an ordeal. 



"I'm putting you down the manhole," I said. 



Gregory nodded resignedly. No doubt he had been expecting that. The manhole, I should explain, is a circular, tube-like construction of stone under the floor, running down some ten feet deep. It's diameter is just sufficient to accommodate the body of a man but no more. The cover of the manhole is an iron grille. 



Soon the winch was at work again, this time, Maxine lowered Gregory down into the chilly, restricting hole. We looked down to see his head some four feet below us... then we replaced the grille. Once again Gregory had no idea of how long he would have to remain in that uncomfortable and most claustrophobic situation. If I felt like it, it could be for the rest of his stay! 



However, I was in more active mood, so once again decreed that three hours was sufficient. By then the time was getting on for ten o'clock, so it was an appropriate hour to submit Gregory to a final ordeal before putting him away for the night. Once more Maxine and I returned to the cellar. 



Gregory's relief at so relatively short a confinement was evident. I do think he found the constriction and confinement of that tube of stone most unpleasant. Well! He was supposed to! He blinked in the half-light as Maxine began to remove his tight leather garb. 



"Leave on the briefs," I said. "I don't want any disgusting exhibitions from him."