By rts
I’m a leather-loving biker riding an old rigid harley chopper, always in my boots and full hides. I made contact online with a man with similar interest, exchanging photos, both of us into just living in our leathers all the time. He invited me for a meet-up if I agreed to his conditions. I was to wear only my leathers, my leather jeans tucked unto my 18-inch westco boots, gloves on and naked under the hides except for a leather jock and pack, no other clothes. He would ship me a leather hood with an open lock but no key. I was to put on this hood and lock it while live on camera for him to see on the day I was to head out. I was turned on and agreed to these conditions.
A week later the hood arrived along with a crude map and directions to a small almost abandoned town in the desert about 100 miles down an old country road. The hood was hot, with small ”pepper pot” eyeholes, two small nasal tubes and a mouth hole lined with a rubber tube that would keep my mouth open, making it difficult or almost impossible to speak. The zipper pull down the back would fit over a small lock post, through which I would be able to fit the enclosed lock.