The rap of my bare knuckles on the door sounded like a cannon going off in my ears. My breath was short, my heart was racing, and adrenalin was rushing through my body as I waited for the door to be answered by the man whose Blade Classified advertisement I had replied to this week. I had double-checked my instruction and began the knock at precisely 1:00. I was wearing what He had directed: Levi 509s, no underwear, sweatshirt, socks and slip-on shoes. I was carrying a clean white jock strap in a brown paper sack to wear home after the session.
His advertisement had intrigued me for weeks. "Dungeon massage for experienced or novice, in shape men only." On Wednesday, after summoning my courage to call the telephone number listed in the ad, I was confronted with a pleasant, yet commanding voice of a man about the same age as my 54 years. He asked me a series of questions concerning my desires, experience, physical dimensions, and any limits I felt I had. My answers were evidently acceptable because he directed me to report on Friday for my initial meeting and inspection and the possibility for further activities if I passed his demanding and precise conditions. Additionally, he directed that following our telephone conversation, I not ejaculate prior to our initial meeting two days hence.
One rap - no more- no less. In what seemed like an eternity, but in reality was no more than 30 seconds or so, the door opened and I was confronted by a handsome leather Top, hands on hips, who directed me to enter. He appeared to be in his mid 50s, about 5'9" tall and was extremely well built and definitely in shape. His black Leather shirt hugged his pecs and was tucked into the narrow waste band of his tight black leather shorts, which accentuated his well-endowed package. Black calf length boots completed the dominant picture. Salt and pepper close-cropped hair framed his broad chiseled face and his piercing brown eyes never strayed from sizing me up.
"You know why you're here, so don't waste any of my precious time. STRIP!" With that command, I immediately began removing my clothes and folding them into a neat pile on the floor of the dungeon. It was taking some time for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. As I finished piling my clothes, Master directed me to assume the Inspection Position that he had described to me during our telephone conversation on Wednesday. I spread my feet shoulder width apart and interlocked my hands behind my head, exposing my entire quivering body to his penetrating gaze and to whatever he had planned for my inspection.
"Speak to me only when spoken to, and then make sure you address me as Sir or Master!" he whispered in my left ear. I was suddenly bathed in a bright spotlight directed at me from the ceiling. Where before, I was beginning to make out the extent and furnishings of the dungeon, now I could not see anything except the strong bright light. I could hear his movements, but I could not see him at all.
His hands began examining my head, in detail. His fingers of one hand explored my mouth cavity while he pinched my nasal passages with his other hand. "Suck!" he whispered. "Good boy," he commented as he released my nose and head.
The inspection continued with a thorough examination of each muscle group of my body. The frequent use of massage oils had left the skin on his hands silky soft. He used slow, deliberate and detailed probing, concentrating on my openings and my protrusions. My nipples were especially well inspected and he tested them for endurance. Almost no comments were uttered until he reached my genitals. Upon reaching my shaved cock and balls he was extremely pleased and told me that I'd better keep them like that all the time. As his hands explored my balls and cock shaft, I began to feel the blood rushing to his touch. Total erection resulted when he inserted a gloved finger probing my prostate. "Bend forward." He commanded. I could feel his turgid cock through his leather shorts as he rubbed against my butt and thighs. I must have sighed, because he asked: "So, do you want it?"
"Yes Sir," I murmured.
"You'll have to earn that privilege," he whispered as his tongue explored my left ear.
With his right hand examining my prostate, he employed his left hand to stroke my raging hard on. I told him I thought I was going to cum. "You DON"T cum without my permission, boy!" he yelled in my ear. Now I was so scared that I began to shake. He quickly milked my urethra, obtaining some pre-cum on his finger and made me lick it off his hand.
After completing his examination by caressing my thighs and calves, giving my balls a squeeze and slapping my butt cheeks, he commented: "I've finished my inspection and so far you meet my standards. Do you want to continue?" He asked teasingly.
"Yes Sir," I murmured through my parched mouth and lips.
"You told me you regarded yourself as a leather slut, so I want you to put this on and we'll continue with phase two," he commanded. He handed me a black, creamy soft, full leather hood. It fastened in the back with Velcro and had only a stitched finished opening for my mouth, although I noticed that a mouth patch or gag could be attached with four snaps as needed. Above the mouth opening was a space for my nose, but no openings of any sort. There were three "D" rings sewn on the hood: One on the top and one on each side near where the wearer's ears would be. As I maneuvered the hood over my head, the delicious leather aromas began to fill my nostrils, causing the blood to rush back to my cock. Master correctly positioned the hood so that my mouth was fully exposed and the bottom of the hood came down over my throat and neck. As he smoothed out the leather around my head, he took up the slack in the neck area before fastening the Velcro closures at the back of my neck. The almost total sensual deprivation, coupled with the leather aromatics was overpowering and brought a rush to my brain.
His strong hands caressed my leather-encased head as he asked, "Are you ok with this?" "Y--Y--Yes Master," I managed to stammer without thinking. "Lie down on the table, face up, " he directed.