Exhibitionist visits Berlin

It took us a couple of nights of visiting the various bars in the neighborhood to get the layout of each one and assess the options for different kinds of play. Scheune, which apparently translates to barn, is a bit of a dive bar. It has a typical bar layout with a large mirror behind the bar making it easy to cruise other men. The wall opposite the bar has a chain-link fence which apparently is part of the barnyard theme of keeping the barn animals in their pens.

I was wearing a leather cap, bulldog harness, wrist restraints, black onionskin shorts, a heavy gauge cock ring, and 14” leather boots. We got a couple of beers and stood across from the bar. There were only four or five guys in the bar and a lone bartender working. There seemed to be a trickle of men coming into the bar, but as many migrated downstairs to the dark room.

After a few swigs of beers, Mr. Silver put his down. Sir took my left hand and pressed it against the wall covered with chain link. With a quick release hook he restrained my hand to a link on the fence. Sir returned to standing on my right. He picked up his beer and we carried on with our conversation making observations about the bar and the men. With my left hand restrained and Sir on my right, I had to stand stretched wide open to the room to talk to him. Sir reached over and grabbed my crotch and massaged my cock through the thin shorts. Effortlessly, he slipped the shaft of my cock out of the top of the shorts. The waist band pressed against the middle of the shaft holding my ridged cock against my body. Sir looked down at it and smiled and then looked back up at me. Staring into my eyes, Sir said “Look at yourself in the mirror, you slut.” I could see myself standing there with a beer in one hand, the other hand pinned to the wall, and my cock half exposed. I took a slip of beer as my heart pounded with excitement.

After a few minutes, Sir slid his foot between my legs and he tapped my boot to get me to spread my legs apart. Then he slid my shorts down over my hips, leaving them to hang somewhat lopsided across my thighs. He took a step back to evaluate the situation. I continued to watch all this unfold in the mirror as if I were watching a movie.

We continued to talk and drink our beers. I was practically panting with anticipation. I wanted to feel his hand on my cock, but I’d have to wait. Sir’s deliberately slow pace extended the show for the couple of men who were watching. It extended the rush and it extended the excitement that I enjoy so much.

I had drank more than half of my beer when Mr. Silver took the glass out of my hand and sat it down. Sir took my free hand and pressed it against the chain link and locked my wrist into place. He reached across to my other hand and released it, only to adjust it by pulling it further from my body. As a result, my arms were at a slight incline with my hands ending up slightly higher than my head. I stood with my arms wide apart, as if I were directing an airplane to land. I was taking up the space of three men. It’s a good thing that the bar wasn’t particularly busy. Sir pulled down my shorts to my boots. I lifted one foot and then the other so that Sir could slide them off. The shorts were paper thin so he simply folded them over and slipped them into the back of his waistband.

Sir picked up both of our beer glasses and walked over to the bar. He perched on a stool opposite of the front door. He was sitting next to the entryway to the back room. The bartender seemed blasé as he washed a few glasses. Sir nodded to him and engaged him in conversation. I could see Sir conversing with the bartender, but I had no idea what they’re talking about. Sir pulled a bottle of lube out his pocket and sat it on the bar counter for me to see. Now that Sir wasn’t next to me, he could study the men’s reactions as they came into the bar, either from outside or from the back room. He found the reaction of the customers amusing when they spotted the naked man chained to the wall.

Sir poured what was left of the beer in one glass into the other, then slid the empty glass to the bartender. Sir pulled my shorts out of the back of his jeans and placed them on the bar. Then he put his glass on top to claim his space. Sir grabbed the bottle of lube and walked over to me. He poured the slippery liquid into his left hand. With it, he stroked my cock and massaged my balls. Sir was pragmatic: One hand would be slippery with lube and the other hand remained dry for holding a beer glass. My cock was throbbing with blood. It shimmered with lube. Satisfied that I was sufficiently aroused, Sir walked back to his spot at the bar.

I wanted to cum. I wanted to shoot my load. Pacing myself is not one of my strong suits. I think that’s one of the reasons that I enjoy bondage so much. Not only do I relish giving up control, but it slows me down because I can’t jack myself off.

The next time Sir walked over to me, he slipped a Levitra tablet under my tongue. I had already taken one before we left the hotel. Sir whispered into my ear, “Hold it there, slut.” He stroked my cock, caressed my balls and walked away again.

Absorption under the tongue is more efficacious than swallowing. In about 20 minutes, I would be completely, uncontrollable erect. Although anyone would be hard to tell the difference since I was already very aroused. Sir waited about five minutes to make sure that the tablet has fully dissolved and then walked over and offered me a sip of beer. I was eager to wash the bitter foamy residual out of my mouth. It took a few sips. Sir whispered into my ear, “You’re going to cum twice tonight, slut.” Sir stroked my cock and then walked away leaving me to shudder at the prospect. I was left on display for the other men who would walk by on their way to the dark room.

The back and forth continued for another 20 minutes. It seemed that the bar became a bit busier. By this point there were now a dozen men in the bar. I didn’t know if they were new customers coming in off the street or guys that were in the back room had come out for a drink while waiting for fresh meat. It was a motley crew of men. They weren’t the Tom of Finland fantasy men but they were real, live, amorous gay men who enjoyed the male body. These Berlin men were a bit taken back that the American slut didn’t have the modesty to play in the dark room where every fetish can be found. Yet they were captivated by the scene.

Sir ordered another beer for himself. As he was served, Sir asked the bartender to keep my shorts. They were my only coverage for the walk back to the hotel. The bartender agreed and Sir walked over to me with his beer in hand. After taking another sip and offering a sip to me, Sir sat the glass on a nearby table.

Sir started to stroke my cock and rub the glans and I moaned with pleasure. Sir whispered into my ear, “I want to hear you scream when you cum. I want everyone to hear you moan with pleasure.” Sir continued, “If you’re not loud enough to suit me…” Sir pinched and twisted my nipple “… you will be punished.” Reflexively I cried out, “Yes Sir!”

Deliberately, Sir slowly stroke my cock as it took both of us a bit of time to acclimate to a loud verbal play session. Sir whispered to me, “What do you want slut?” And I replied, “I want to cum, Sir!” Sir repeated the question two more times. Each time, my reply was louder. Sir noticed that my groans and moaning were becoming louder too. I was mentally shifting gears, anticipating an all-out screaming orgasm.

There were about a dozen guys watching when Sir finally made me cum. I was screaming, panting and thrashing from the intensity of the orgasm. If I’m not mistaken, the bartender turned up to music to drown out my screaming. If I could have grabbed on to something, I would have lifted myself off the floor. Instead, I fiercely rattled the chain link fence that I was restrained to. Sir continued with post-cum stroking long past what most guys can tolerate. I love getting lost in post-cum torture. Finally he stopped.

Sir kissed me and stroked my chest as I came down from the euphoria and my breathing returned to normal. Sir released my right arm only to lower it to waist height and then clip it to the fence next to my hips. Sir continued by releasing my left arm and lowering it to waist height and then clipped it to the fence also. With a smile and a twinkle in his eye, he said to me, “You have five minutes to rest before we start the encore performance.”

Sir pulled over a stool and sat next to me. We chatted about plans for the next day. We talked about going to the Egyptian Museum. I am in awe of the ancient artifacts, even if I’m not well-versed in the history. Sir hadn’t decided if he wanted to join me or pursue his own plans. It would have seemed like we were having a typical tourist conversation if I hadn’t been restrained, naked and my groin covered in cum and lube.

When Sir finally stood up and slid the stool away, I realized that my rest period was over. First, Sir released one wrist and positioned it directly overhead and then the other. My arms were stretched to their the full length. Sir planted a big sloppy kiss on me and sank his tongue deep into my mouth. The kiss morphed as he slid his tongue over to my ear and whispered “If you can’t cum again, you better be good at faking it.” Sir twisted my nipple really hard and I try in vain to get away from the pain. “You brought me here to put on a show, well, you better do your part. I want to hear you screaming in ecstasy. I want the men in the dark room who are on their knees worshipping at the glory holes to hear you cumming. You can thrash about all you want but you are not going to get away from me. You are going to cum for me again. I know how sensitive and sore your cock is and I’m going to work it until you’re screaming at the top of your lungs. I’m going to work you to utter exhaustion. I’m going to milk you for every last drop of cum that I can get out of you, whether you’re ready for this or not.”

With that, Sir squirted more lube on his hand and rubbed it all over my cock and balls. I was still somewhat tumescent from the lingering effects of the Levitra. But from his kinky, explicit demands and the feeling of his hand on my cock, I became rock hard. My mind was still in a mellow, post-cum space but my body was responding to all the stimulus. I was about to be forced to cum a second time, whether I was ready for it or not.

I thrushed my hips out, giving him unobstructed access to stroking the full length of my cock. My legs were more than shoulders width apart which made space for my balls to swing free. I can’t say that they were swinging because the scrotum has tightened up from the excitement. It did give him space to swing his hand up under the balls tapping them. Rhythmic tapping. Sir is good at reading my body language. He can find the right pressure point to deliver pain that devours my senses, yet not so much that it blocks out the escalating sexual urge to cum.

Sir stroked my cock and then rubbed his palm across my piss slits. He calls the technique rosy palm. I was almost hyperventilating. I started to scream “Stop, please stop” but he ignored my cries. Beside, that’s not my safe word. And I’ll be damned if I’d use my safe word when I’m enjoying so much intense pleasure. Sir continued to work my cock and balls as I screamed, grunted and moaned. I was so loud that the guys in the bar turn to watch the scene. It probably only took a couple of minutes to get me to this point, the point where I started to cum a second time. I started squirting. For the first time this evening, Sir spoke to me in more than a whisper. “That’s a good slut! Give it to me!” Actually, I think he was shouting it at me, “Give it to me!” Sir worked my cock for what seems like an eternity, but it was probably only another 30 seconds. And then we were done. He wiped his hands on my chest and thighs to dry them off.

Sir took a couple of steps back and made himself comfortable on the bar stool. He watched as my breathing returns to normal. He watched my body language change as I become more social aware. I became aware that I was still restrained, naked and spent. Sir was waiting. He wanted to make sure that any of the men who were in the darkroom would have time to come see who had the screaming orgasm. He was leaving me on display. Sir waited while I slowly become flaccid and then he released me.

Sir handed me a few Euros. He said that I should amuse myself for a while. He also said that if I retrieved my shorts from the bartender that I wasn’t allowed to put them on until he returned. With a thumb in the waist band of his jeans and his hand caressing the bulge of his cock in his jeans, Sir walked towards the dark room with the swagger of a man who knows what he wants and how to get it.

I grabbed a stool at the bar and ordered myself a beer and asked if I could have my shorts. I sipped my beer and watch the other men in the bar. The glass was still about half full when Sir returned. I saw a subtle change in his body language. He was more relaxed. No doubt from the release of dopamine. I slipped my shorts on. We walked back to the hotel hand-in-hand.

It’s great to be a slut in Berlin!