Apprenticeships are rare. Candidates for apprenticeships are carefully vetted. Only those who fully yield to the process succeed. Asking questions would instantly lead to dismissal…

I eventually found the contact details for a gatekeeper, and then, over a period of weeks, I received emails filled with somewhat intrusive questions. Eventually I was told to report to a secret location.

I was to tell no one where I was. It all felt incredibly exciting and it wasn’t until I was on the train heading to the secret location that I started to feel anxious. On one hand, I’d been chasing this intriguing, mystical dream for months and months, but on the other, I had no idea who this group actually was.

I could have been walking into a trap and no one in the world had the slightest idea where I was heading! I almost got off the train there and then, but something told me I was on the brink of discovering something very special.

I ended up at the central complex of the Brotherhood. I was shown to my room by another one of the apprentices. I instinctively knew not to ask him any questions about his experiences, much as I was dying to.

I stayed in my room for some time, not really knowing what to do until a note was pushed under my door, with a map of the complex. The message told me to wash, dress properly and report to a specific room for a preliminary interview with Master Kamp.

My heart instantly started to pound. I had no idea what to expect, but immediately did as I was told and, half an hour later, was knocking on the door of the allotted room…

I heard a voice telling me to enter, so I gingerly walked into what turned out to be an entirely white room. It was utterly disorientating. The corridor outside had been dark and gloomy so it felt a bit like entering heaven or something!

Master Kamp instructed me to sit down on an ornate chair, which looked so fancy I was nervous to sit on it. I guess he was about fifty. He was dressed really nattily - full suit, tie and suspenders - all in white. He smelt like fine aftershave, slightly tinged with cigar smoke. He was certainly intimidating. He had a strong German accent which made me feel like I was being interrogated and he seemed a little volatile… almost as though the air of calmness which surrounded him would break down at any moment and he’d start yelling or throwing things around the room.

He started asking me questions. Scores of questions. Endless questions. The veto on questions which had been imposed on me was entirely one-sided!

I was quite shocked when he started quizzing me about my love life. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to answer, but there wasn’t a great deal to say because I’ve always kept myself to myself in that respect.

I’ve never really been interested in girls. They’ve always seemed a bit too much hard work if I’m honest. I mean, I’ve always assumed I’d settle down, get married, and have kids but I’m not in any rush to do so. Boys at school always talked about jerking off and stuff, but, if I’m honest, it always sounded a little messy.

So, anyway, when he asked me if I’d ever been attracted to men, I was utterly blind-sided. What on earth made him even ask the question? Then he launched into this whole thing about whether I was worthy enough to join the Brotherhood, telling me he needed to establish what my limits were. Obviously I told him I didn’t have any…

…So he told me to take my clothes off!

I was utterly stunned. I could feel my heart banging like a drum in my ear and the blood rushing to my face. I felt so embarrassed, but tried to keep as cool as I could, so stood up and without even flinching started to undress.

I got down to my regulation underwear. They’d handed me a special underwear set when I arrived at the complex and I was instructed to wear them at all times. I’d put them on for the first time before the interview and had stood for a while, looking in the mirror, horrified to discover they were a little see-through. I could see my nipples through them, my pubic hair, and the outline of my cock.

Master Kamp told me to sit again before firing more questions at me about whether I was attracted to men; then whether I was attracted to him, and if I wasn’t, that I’d need to prove it.

And weirdly, the only thing I wanted to say, the only truth I could hone in on within all the panic and embarrassment of what was happening, was the fact that I was intrigued by him. And that’s not the same as being attracted, right? I’d certainly never met anyone like him before, and something deep down inside me just wanted to please him.

Then he went and tied my hands behind the chair. I should have been shitting bricks, but I liked the sensation… I liked the feeling of powerlessness it gave me.

When he started running his hand over my thigh and then up towards my groin, I started to panic. I was fighting all the time; with myself, with my dick, with my feelings of shame, with my desire to prove that he wasn’t turning me on. But the more he touched me, the wider I wanted to spread my legs and the harder my dick got.

He smiled. Then he started touching me in ways which I can’t even explain. It’s like he had a sixth sense for all the weird places in my body where crazy reactions were going to be triggered. He seemed to understand my body better than I did. It was new sensation after new sensation, and suddenly my skin was tingling all over and every inch of me was crying out for his touch...