"CMNM if you know you know" said the card in the window. Followed by a phone number.
I couldn't sleep that night, as I kept thinking about ringing the number to see where it led.
After a dull day at work I sent a text message to the number. Within ten minutes I had a reply. Simple instruction "report to 20 George Street on Saturday at 7am. Dress for sport. You will be cleansed."
I got up at 6am on Saturday with morning wood stronger than in a long while. I chose a wide band jockstrap with a mesh pouch that had plenty space. The wide waistband snapped straight against the top of my arse.
I wore black running shorts, a compression top with vest underneath and my usual trainers and set off.
20 George street was a nondescript building with a high door. I pushed open and went in. There was a long tiled corridor with four doors off. The smell was not un pleasant but halfway between a gym and a hospital.
Behind room four I could hear the sound of rhythmic slapping of wood on flesh accompanied by moaning. My cock started pushing against the tight jock.
I entered room number one. In the middle of the room was a wide table like object with what looked like gutters around the side. A hosepipe hung down from the ceiling. Two men were in the room dressed in black. One, who was older, introduced himself as the master. He gestured towards the younger man and said "this is the apprentice".
The master then said I was not allowed to speak and I had to obey the instructions.
M to A "remove his top and use force if needed."
I wanted to comply so the apprentice pulled my top roughly over my head. I was now just wearing a muscle vest.
A: lift up your arms so we can inspect your pits.
I raised up both arms revealing my hairy pits and broad shoulders.
M to A: Sniff his pits.
