London Cocksucker Ch. 02: Berlin

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London Cocksucker Pt. 02: Night Train to Berlin

The following story continues my journey into cock submission years ago while living in London. These encounters are loosely based on experiences I had with a man named John, who I met online. I had answered his ad in the now defunct ‘Men Seeking Men’ personals section of a popular website: “Wanted: Submissive Cock Whore Willing to Be Used by Me and My Mates.” With each of our encounters, my relationship with John blossomed as he looked for more opportunities to share me with his friends, colleagues, and even strangers. This chapter continues my odyssey as an oral submissive as I willingly service many of John’s work colleagues on an overnight train to Berlin.

WARNING: This story contains scenes with Gay Male Dominance ‘ so to speak. I am confident you are more than capable of pleasing hordes of men, based on your performance last week at the Mind Shaft. Any questions so far?”

“How will I know who I am supposed to service?” I asked.

“We have a system we’ve worked out which will ensure everyone who wants to use you or any of the rent boys will be given adequate time tonight. I’ll explain it once I take you to the café car in little while.”

As he was speaking the train gave a lurch and a whistle and we started our journey to Paris and Berlin.

“Now, let’s get you ready for tonight. First you’ll need to strip. You won’t’ be needing your clothes or shoes until just before we arrive in Berlin, so take it all off,” John said, matter-of-factly.

John was smiling as he watched me remove my shoes and socks, pants, shirt, and finally my briefs. I was totally nude, and stood there slightly embarrassed but at the same time I felt a stirring in my groin. I told myself: this was really happening!

“That’s better, cocksucker.” John placed a leather studded collar around my neck. It had a chrome metal D-ring in front to attach a leash to. The collar had a bright metal medallion hanging from it which said simply, ‘Cocksucker.’ He had me hold up my wrists and then he attached two leather wrist cuffs which had metal clasps on them. He stepped behind me and attached a leather strap to the back of the collar, which went down my back and was attached to a black leather belt which he pulled around my waist. The belt had metal loops in the back in which to attach my leather cuffs. John had told me that some men would want me restrained while I serviced them.

“Now, to complete your ensemble, I brought you this.” John produced a black leather jock strap which held the cock and balls tosya escort in a pouch, and had a thong up the back which would accentuate my round ass cheeks. He had me lift one leg, then the other, and slid the jock slowly up my thighs. My cock was hardening as he gently pushed my penis and ball sack into the leather pouch and pulled the waist strap up so the thong rubbed gently on my ass crack. I felt like a complete whore in this outfit. It was delicious.

“Make yourself comfortable cocksucker. I’m going to check with my guys and see how everything is going. I’ll be back for you in a while, then we are going down to the café car so I can introduce you to my colleagues. Oh, and for the duration of this trip, call me ‘Sir’.”

I smiled at him. “Yes Sir!”

After about 20 minutes, John returned to the cabin and opened the door.

“Okay, we are ready for you to make your debut. Stand up.”

I got up from the edge of the bed where I had been sitting.

“Now, I’m going to attach this leash to your collar. Some of the men will want you restrained. I have to warn you that there are a few guys who can be quite, um, demanding, so you’re going to have to adapt. Do you understand?”

I looked John in the eye. “Of course, Sir. Anything to please your work colleagues!” I said as ebulliently as I could.

“Good boy. I know you won’t disappoint.”

“Let’s get your wrists restrained as well. Many of the men like it when a sub makes an entrance showing just how compliant they are.” While he was telling me this, John took my wrists and attached them to one of the metal clasps at the back of the leather belt he had put on me earlier. I was now completely helpless.

“Come along cocksucker. You’ve got some clients to meet.” With that, John gave my leash a gentle tug and I followed him down the length of the sleeper car. Several men gave me leering looks and licked their lips as we passed the open doors to their cabins and I heard a few men snicker at my predicament. I wondered which of them would be using me that night.

Café Car: I am Introduced to My ‘Clients’

John led me by the leash into the café car and I was immediately taken by the informality of it all. There were a few dozen men there from John’s company milling about, talking, laughing, and drinking beers or cocktails. Some of the men wore suits and ties, others were dressed more casually, in jeans and collared shirts with leather jackets. I noticed several “rent boys” serving drinks to the clients. They were all “dressed” similarly to me, with trabzon escort black leather briefs and not much else. They were all in their early twenties and had very toned, muscular bodies. They looked like dancers. Curiously, they all had a large number written in black ink on their foreheads. A few of them wore leather collars like mine, and one or two was equipped with leather cuffs to allow the user to restrain the young man if needed.

John made the rounds and said hello to his colleagues. I got more than a few knowing winks and comments from his workmates. John had apparently told many of them about me already and I saw the lust in their eyes as he paraded me, almost naked and with my arms bound, through the crowd of horny and drunk men. As we walked through the café car, more than one man pinched my nipples or smacked me on the ass to the great amusement of John. I had never felt like such a piece of meat before.

At one point, a man walked up to me and with a large black sharpie pen, wrote something on my forehead. I asked John what it said and he looked at me, grinning. “It says number 7. I guess you are the lucky one, cocksucker!”

I was about to find out the significance of that marking.

A large man with a billowing voice then took center stage. “Gentlemen, now that the last member of our ‘entertainment’ crew has arrived–he gave a knowing look at me–it is time for all of you to decide who you would like to service you tonight. You will notice that each of our young ‘hospitality’ members has a large black number written in black ink on their forehead. When you place your order for the evening, include that number–or numbers if you desire more than one–of the boy that you wish to entertain you in your cabin and your desired time as well as your sexual proclivities. We will do our best to organize the hospitality crew to everyone’s satisfaction.

For the next five minutes or so, I could see everyone scribbling furiously on the small white cards that had been passed around, with some men discussing among themselves who they think they would like to sample tonight and others making lewd comments about the boy they had chosen and what they planned to do to them. I stood there silently, anticipating what was to come and trying to control the flush of blood that was slowly engorging my penis.

John turned to me and said, “Okay cocksucker, now we wait until all the orders are in. Since I’m your sponsor, they will give me your ‘menu’ for tonight and I will walk you through the ground rules before I send you on your tunalı escort way. Do you have any questions?”

“No Sir, I think I get the drift of how this all works. I am excited but a bit nervous. Will anyone be mistreating me?”

“You don’t have to worry about that. Although some of the men can be a bit rough, it’s all in good fun and everyone knows not to harm any of our ‘hospitality’ members.”

I sighed with relief. Although I was willing to be completely dominated sexually by strangers, I wasn’t into pain and was hoping none of my clients would be doling it out.

After about ten minutes–during which time I was continuously groped, squeezed, or lightly slapped on my ass by anonymous strangers–the order sheets, or ‘menus’ were passed out. The man who had marked my forehead gave John a white sheet of paper which looked like a menu, showing the train cabin, the men in that cabin, and what they expected to do to me.

“Well cocksucker, you’ve got quite a mixed bag on your plate here. Looking at this list I expect you will be ingesting a lot of semen tonight, so I hope you’re ready for it,” John said, with a broad smirk.

“Yes Sir, I’m ready to swallow whatever I am told to swallow, just like I did at the Mine Shaft last week. I know I’m here to please other men and to do exactly as they say.”

“Good boy,” John replied. “Now, it looks like you are going to start your evening in Cabin 3, Mr. Sinclair’s cabin. He is our company president, and as such, expects complete obedience. I’m surprised he took a shining to you so quickly. It will be really important to do everything he tells you to do. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal clear, Sir,” I replied, my heart racing with anticipation.

“Excellent. Now, you will going to cabin numbers 3, 18, 37, and 7 on the hour, starting at 7:00 pm. You’ll have a bit of time to eat something to give you strength, then I will send you on your way.

With that, John unclipped my wrist cuffs from the leather belt and my hands were free again to eat dinner. There was a knock on the door to the cabin, and a man from the café car came in with a tray, which he put down on a small fold-out table against the wall. There was one dinner plate, a bottle of water, and a beer on the tray.

John thanked the man–who noticed my nakedness and leather gear, but didn’t say anything–and he departed, closing the door behind him.

John looked at me and said, “You better eat. This will be the last chance tonight to take in anything nourishing beyond semen. I’ve got to go meet with a colleague, but I will be back here just before 7:00 pm so I can walk you down to your first ‘client’.”

I dove into the dinner entre–beef bourguignon, asparagus, and medallions of thinly sliced potatoes–and ate with gusto, thinking about what was in store for me that night.