THE WEIGHT LOSS PROGRAMME
Chapter 7 - The Cravat
I was marched back the way I had come the following day, back to the gate. When we stopped, I immediately knelt on the grass, as was expected. My steel collar was closed around my neck, and then padlocked. My handcuffs and shackles were at last removed.
“There. You are safely back on your chain again! You’ll be here on your chain all week. You can spend the week thinking about your next punishment. I’ll think of you here, Peter, on your chain, while I’m taking my bath. It will give me a lot of pleasure, I assure you. But I’ll be sure to be back here next Sunday morning, to take you for strapping again! I don’t want you to miss that! I really enjoyed watching you being strapped today. Some men are better to watch than others. Most new slaves are such wimps when they first feel the strap! You were really very good! You endured bravely! We value slaves like you! I’ve heard that some of the more sadistic Ladies said they considered bringing you to their rooms, even after your very first strapping. You are getting quite a fan club! Quite my little strapping boy! But let me caution you: if you ever get taken to a Lady’s room afterwards, don’t expect it’s for consolation: it will be for private torture! All ladies here are sadists, but some have unusual and extreme torture methods, which they enjoy using in private on selected boy-toys! I assure you, they will be completely merciless, if they get you alone in their rooms! You really don’t want to find out about that!” She laughed.
She continued. “This week, I want to see you do your job well, with no errors” the Lady said. “You don’t want extra strokes next Sunday, do you?”
“No, Ma’am” I said, kneeling I meant it. I could not possibly take any extra strapping! I could not even bear the regular 20! I had to escape somehow, before next Sunday!
“Then learn to be a good slave. This is your life now. There is no escape from your chain. So get used to being a slave, and make the best of it. Get used to being on a chain, because this is how you’ll be kept from now on. It will be better for you, if you don’t fight this. You saw that most of the other slaves didn’t get any extra punishment, didn’t you? They all were headstrong, powerful, disobedient men, when they first arrived here, and they all needed extra punishments for the first week or two. But the strap quickly made them change! They are all very good slaves now! Every one! That’s how I want you to be! If you are good all week, you’ll only get twenty strokes next Sunday, and if you have no black marks, you’ll be allowed to masturbate for a few minutes. Won’t that be a nice treat? I’ll leave you to think about it! Think about the strap! Have a good week, boy!”
She walked back to the house, carrying the shackles with her. I was left on my chain. I knew by now that I could not get off my chain. I was here for the week. Then another strapping! I could not bear it! But I couldn’t do anything about it. Nothing at all!
The day passed slowly. I had nothing to do that day. I saw Ladies walking in the distance, from time to time, but none needed the gate opened. I was given scraps and a bowl of water at midday. Apart from that, I was totally ignored. I ate all the scraps, every piece. I was able to catch some extra rainwater in my bowl when some showers came through, and I tried to use this to wash. But there wasn’t enough, and I simply ended up smearing the dirt over myself. I had no mirror, but I knew I must look awful. I was dirty. I was naked. I smelled. I had a week’s beard. My hair was matted and filthy from sleeping on the ground.
In the late afternoon, I saw my Supervisor Lady coming back towards me. She was carrying something that looked like a set of metal bars. I knelt and kept my eyes down on the ground.
“You will spend a night in the Cravat, Peter, as I promised last week. Then you will have expunged your tardiness, and you will have a new chance to be a good slave. Sit down on the grass, please”.
I sat down gingerly. My buttocks were heavily bruised.
The metal bars had a collar which closed around my neck, then other bars closed around my wrists about 12” below my chin. The bars then extended down my ankles and closed around them. A single padlock by my ankles locked the bars closed. I was held rigidly in a sitting position, with a steel bar extending from my neck to my wrists to my ankles. It was very restrictive, but didn’t seem too bad. I had been afraid it would have been some kind of torture device.
She locked the padlock, then stood up. “You will stay in the Cravat tonight. I’ll let you out in the morning. Are you comfortable so far?”
“Yes, I’m comfortable, Ma’am” I answered.
She laughed. “I think you will not say that in another hour, Peter. And you have all night! I’ll see you in the morning! Have a good night!”
She walked back to the house, leaving me locked in the Cravat. I sat where she had left me. I quickly found I could not move.
After 30 minutes, I found it was getting irritating to be held so rigidly in position. I wanted to move arms, but I couldn’t. I also wanted to scratch my nose, but I couldn’t do that either. My bottom was getting uncomfortable from sitting on the same rough grass. I found I couldn’t move much at all. My discomfort got slowly worse. After a few hours I was moaning, and struggling against the rigid metal bars. The discomfort got worse and worse. By morning, I was moaning with agony. I had not been able to move for ten hours.
At last, I saw her coming back. I was on the point of begging for release, but managed to stop myself from speaking. I knew that was forbidden!
She stopped a few yards in front of me, and smiled down at me.
“Still here, I see! And just as I left you! You haven’t moved at all, have you! How do you feel now, Peter? Still comfortable?”
“No, Ma’am….this is agony now!! Please…..let me out! Please!” I moaned.
“Yes, it is agony, isn’t it! The Cravat is a delightful punishment I think! It’s gentle at first, and builds up gently. But you have done your time. Let’s get you out of it.”
She unlocked the padlock, and the whole device immediately released me from its iron grip. I was so thankful. I knelt and kissed her shoes.
“There, there, Peter! Back to your gate duties, please! Be a good slave from now on! You know the alternative now! It’s your own choice whether you are good, or not!”
I crawled back to the gate, my chain dragging in the grass. She picked up the Cravat, and walked back to the house. I so longed to touch her. But she had left me chained.
To continue this story, click I Settle Into My Life As A Slave
The Weight Loss
The Stories of Yvonne Sinclair
The Sacred Feminine
The Story Of T
A Caning By Miss Spiteful
A Visit To Greenwich
At My Lady's Pleasure
Ball Shackle Story
I Met Claire In A Coffee Shop
Long Weekend Conclusion
Robin's Electrical Torture
Slave To The Cane
The Escape Artist
The Huntress Caning
The Language School
The Worm's View
The Bossy Bank Women