Exhibitionist visits Berlin

Night 5

Over the past four nights, Allen and I had stopped in at all the sleazy bars within walking distance of our hotel.  We decided that tonight we’d go to the New Action bar.  On the walk over we’d stop in at Woof for a beer.  

I dressed pretty much as I had been:  Leather cap, collar and lead, bulldog harness, wrist restraints, black bikini-style shorts with easy-off Velcro side straps, cock ring, 14” leather boots with ankle restraints.  Unlike the last several nights when Mr. Silver had worn a flannel shirt and jeans, tonight he dressed for the role of Master.  He wore a leather cap, leather vest over a bare chest, jeans and boots.  What was the center of my attention were the three items hanging off the left of his jeans:  A leather cock slapper, a leather crop and a cock whip.  In combination, these three items were a bit bulky.  That they were hanging there gave me insight to the night’s intended play.  Mr. Silver looked intimidating.  He also had assembled a small bag of supplies.

When he was ready, Mr. Silver walked to the door and said, “Come.”  He handed me the bag and said, “Carry this with both of your hands behind your back.”  Sir took my lead, opened the door, walked out, and I followed.  After he closed the door, he turned to me and gave me orders, “Walk behind me and keep the lead taunt. You should feel the pull of the lead on your neck as we walk.”  I am a fast-paced walker and accustomed to walking side-by-side.  Following is a challenge for me, so I focused on my instructions.

When the elevator door opened, Sir walked in and I followed.  He looked over his right shoulder and said “Corner,” so I stood in the rear corner facing the elevator door.  Sir stood kitty-corner, next to the operator panel, with the lead hanging diagonally between us. The elevator stopped at the next floor down and a man got on.  He stood in the corner that wasn’t blocked by the lead and checked us out.  As the elevator descended to the street level, Sir stepped to the center of the door, blocking the stranger’s exit.  He waited until the door was fully open and then slowly exited, leading me along.  It was a subtle but effective technique to show dominance and to show off his sub.  I could feel my cock stir in my shorts with excitement and perhaps a bit of dread.

We walked the two blocks to the Woof.  Sir leading, casually holding his hand on his shoulder, letting the lead drop over his shoulder, and me following a few steps behind.  Sir stopped just outside of the Woof and turned to me.  He said, “You’re such a sexy slut.”  With both hands, he grabbed me just under the armpits and pulled me towards him.  As he planted a big wet kiss on my mouth, he slid his hands down to my waist.  He slipped his thumbs inside my shorts.  Before I realized what he was doing, he popped loose the velcro straps and pulled off my shorts.  With a quick spin on his heels, he headed into the bar, following another patron who had just opened the door.  I felt the pull of the leash and I followed.  I was caught by surprise, so I don’t know if my mind registered the thrill of being striped naked.  

Sir paused for a moment just inside the bar.  There were a few of men standing at the bar.  There was also a group of four bears standing at high-top table.  It appeared to me that they were regular Berliner friends catching up with each other.  Sir walked over to an empty table near them and me trailing a few steps behind.  I could see the bears giving us the once over, but I couldn’t tell if they approved or disapproved of the Americans.

Sir reached out and touched my side.  It was apparent that he wanted my back.  I felt him drape the lead around my neck and then take the bag that I had been holding behind my back.  He turned me back to face him.  Sir handed me €10 and told me to get us a couple of beers.  So I had to walk up to the bar naked.  By this time, I was rock hard, my cock sticking straight out and bouncing as I walked.  The bartender seemed in no hurry to serve me, but on the other hand, he didn’t say anything about my being naked.  I paid for the beers, left a few small coins, and carried the beers back to Sir.  We tapped the beer steins and took a good long drink.  Sir took the glass out of my hand and set it on the table.  I turned around and Sir restrained my hands behind my back.

With his arm still on me, Sir pulled me back against his chest for a one-arm bear hug.  I leaned my back against Sir’s chest and he held me in place.  My cock rigid hanging out in front of me.  Sir took a drink from his glass and then offered me a drink.  We stood like this, taking turns drinking from one of the glasses.

Sir had not touched my cock since last night.  I longed to feel his hand on my shaft, but that was not yet to be.  After we finished the one beer, Sir stepped to the side and pushed me back against the wall.  Sir took the crop from his belt loop.  With a hand at each end of the crop, he flexed it back and forth a couple of times.  It was a bit like a movie trailer teaser of what was to come.  A teaser for both me and for any of the men who might be watching us.  

Sir took a step away from me and stretched out his arm flexing his bicep.  He stroked my sternum with the end of the crop, sliding it up and down my chest and abdomen a couple of times.  Then I felt it tapping at my balls.  Just a gentle up & down swing of the crop saying hello to my balls.  On the pain threshold of 0 to 10, it was a complete zero.  I felt it.  I knew it was there… tapping.  But it was like a man’s firm handshake, which you’d never say was painful, even if you felt a firm squeeze as he says hello.

I wanted more!  I needed more!  But it wasn’t progressing, and there wasn’t much that I could do about it.  There were brief moments when the tapping stopped when Sir took a drink, but then it returned.  The tapping on the balls made my cock swing up and down.  Oh gawd, I wanted to feel it.  Occasionally, there was a tap or two on the glans, but not nearly enough for me.  Even the bears seemed eager to see progression; they were curious as to how the scene might progress.  They found it more interesting than what was showing on the TV monitor.

Sir finished the second beer and returned the crop to his belt.  Sir released my restraints, handed me my shorts and told me to get dressed.  The foreplay at this watering hole was over.  Sir restrained my hands behind my back again and gave me the supply bag to carry.  Then he adjusted my shorts.  I had put them on firmly like ordinary shorts.  Sir undid the Velcro and then reattached it at the very ends. As a result, they were overly loose and could slide down my hips.  If I didn’t want them to slide down and my cock popping out on the sidewalk, I’d have to hold them up by the rear panel.  I couldn’t pull them too firmly or I’d end up pulling loose the Velcro and they’d fall off.  I was in a predicament.  My wrists were restrained and I had a bag to carry.  I needed to hold my shorts up while I was being lead by a leash that tugged at me.  I was simultaneously mortified and thrilled by my predicament.

Fortunately, the walk to New Action was quick and uneventful.  The bar was a bit smaller than Woof but there appeared to be a few more patrons.  Sir walked up to the bar and ordered a single beer.  After he was served, he turned to me and said, “I want the bag you’re carrying.”  I turned my back to Sir and offered the bag that I was holding behind my back.  Sir took the bag and placed it on the bar counter and started to rustle about in it.  With a smile, he pulled out a ball gag, “No beer for you. Time to take this play up a notch or two.  Turn around.”  I turned around and Sir pulled me back into his furry chest.  He reached around me and held the gag out in front of me.  He held it there for a moment or two for me to consider if I wanted to object.  I said nothing.  He pulled the gag towards my mouth.  I complied by opening my mouth and the ball popped in.  He pulled back the straps and buckled it.  Sir asked me to talk.  I was able mumble so he pulled the gag tighter.  And I surrendered myself to him.

Sir placed his hand on my shoulder and pushed.  I turned and stepping backward following the force of his hand, ending up with my back squarely against the bar.  “Pull your shorts off,” he commanded.  I spread my hands as much as I could and pulled on the waist band.  I felt the Velcro give way and the front panel fell down and between my legs.  “Good slut” and he reached behind me and took the shorts and stuffed them in the toy bag.

Sir smiled at me as if he were enjoying dominating me, or perhaps he was cruising the man behind me.  From the sight of my throbbing cock, it was clear that I was enjoying myself.  Sir took the crop from his waistband and started to flog the glans of my penis.  This time he was using more force than earlier when he was lightly tapping my balls.  The strikes came in triplets.  Three strikes on the top of the glans, then a pause, then on the bottom of the glans.  The intensity just boarded on pain.  It made me stand up and pay attention.  I thought that I wanted it to stop.  Then when Sir stopped to have a drink, I thought that I wanted more.  I was suspended in a space between agony and ecstasy!

I slowly looked around the room, careful not to make eye contact with any of the men.  From what I could see, they were enjoying the show.

After a while, the space that Sir had been waiting for became available.  A man who had been standing by the only vertical wooden beam in the bar had just meandered into the back room.  Sir lead me over to the beam and told me to stay.  Sir pulled over a nearby high-top table that was wasn’t quite within arms reach.  Then he walked back to the bar and retrieved his beer and the toy bag and placed them on the table.

With my back to the beam, Sir told me to spread my feet.  I spread them slightly wider than shoulders width.  Sir was on his knees for a minute.  He wrapped a length of chain around the back of the beam and secured it to my ankle restraints.  He took another length of chain and ran it in front of the beam and attached it to my ankle restraints.  He left an inch or two of slack in the chain for me to be able to shuffle my feet, but not much.  He took another length of chain and two padlocks from the bag.  If I really concentrate and work at it, I can release myself from the typical double-headed quick-release hooks that Sir had been using.  He released my wrists and I held my hands out in front of me.  Sir took one end of the chain and a padlock and snapped it onto my right-hand restraint.  “Hands over your head and wrap them around the beam.”  I did as ordered, and Sir reached up and locked the other end of the chain to my left-hand restraint.

My heart pounded from anticipation!  I was naked, gagged, restrained, and locked in public.  Sir smiled and said “I’ve got to take a piss.  Don’t let anyone walk off with our stuff.”  What was I to say?  I was gagged.  Off he went, looking for the pissoir.  

While Sir was gone a man approached me.  I don’t know if he was intending to take advantage of the opportunity or just wasn’t aware that I had a Master.  He started to stroke my chest with his fingertips.  I shook my head no and moaned no.  Fortunately, the guy understood that he didn’t have permission.  He nodded and headed to the dark room.

Sir returned after a few minutes. He reached into the bag and pulled out a bottle of lube.  He squired some on his hand and then started to stoke my cock.  My whole body flexed with pleasure.  My pelvis arched forward, offering the full length of my shaft, wanting and demanding the pleasure of a man’s hand.  The pleasure was intense and brief.  Sir stopped stroking my cock.

He reached for the leather slapper.  It feels a lot like the crop, but it makes a bit more noise.  The two straps of leather sound like a clap when they come together.  Each strike of the slapper creates a sound adding a sensory element as it strikes the skin.  The slapper is also much shorter and requires the Master to be closer to the subject.  Sir started slapping my balls.  I felt it and the rest of the patrons could hear it.  Sir held my cock up against my abdomen to maximize the available surface area of the scrotum.  He struck again!  It was intense and pleasurable.  With his forefinger and thumb he held my cock and he slapped the underside of my glans. It sent me reaching up and stretching on my tiptoes.  Sir paused for a moment, and I nodded that I was good.  He continued.

He continued striking my cock and balls.  He alternated the way that he held my cock and balls and alternated where he’d strike.  Sometimes the slapping would be mild with quick repetitions.  Sometimes he’d slow the repetition and increase the intensity.  Occasionally, he’d stop the slapping and stroke my cock and rub his palm across my piss slits.  Then he’d return to the cock and ball torture.  When I could focus, I looked around the bar.  We were developing a small but appreciative audience.

After a while, Sir became a bit bored with the slapper and switched to the penis whip. The penis whip requires more skill than the slapper.  To use it effectively, it requires a certain wrist motion to keep it spinning, and it needs to be maintained at just the right distance from the target for the optimal intensity.  It took Sir a bit of trial and error to find the optimal level for me.  Once he did, I went flying.  It’s hard to put into words how pain delivered at the right level results in a pleasure overload.  

I was certainly on sensory overload.  Naked, hard, and restrained in public.  The pleasure & pain being delivered to my cock and balls was overwhelming.  I bit down on the ball gag.  I tried to scream.  I thrashed about when I felt his hand stroke my cock,  but then Sir returned to flogging my cock and balls.  I had every expectation that my cock and balls would be covered with black and blue marks the next day.

I can’t take any more of this.  Yet, I wanted it to last all night.  I can’t take any more of this.  My mind flipping between agony and ecstasy.  All I could do was stand there and surrender to my Master.  Then I noticed that he was spending a lot longer stroking my cock and caressing my balls.  Sir had switched his technique.  More lube was applied to my cock and balls.  Sir took the bottle and pressed it against my chest.  He squeezed out a handful of lube and proceeded to rub it all over the chest, abdomen, crotch and thighs.  I was becoming one big shiny, slippery mess of a slut.

Sir proceeded to stoke my cock and rub his palm across my piss slits.  He calls the technique rosy palms.  Compared to the crop, slapper and whip, rosy palms was the most intense.  I was close to cumming and Sir knew that.  The rosy palm technique would interrupt my ability to cum.  A few hand strokes then a couple of rosy palm strokes.  I was grunting and groaning, but the ball gag kept me from screaming.  On and on, Sir worked my cock, making me flex and thrash.

Finally, I shot my load.  Sir didn’t stop working my cock.  His stroking slowed down a bit and perhaps a slightly lighter touch too, but he continued to work my cock.  He paid attention to how his touch made me flex and focused on that.  I could hear the pitch in my voice going higher and higher, but to no avail.  The ball gag suppressed it all.  As much as my body was saying stop, my mind was saying more.   I loved the overwhelming, animalistic neuro-muscular responses.  Even if, from all outward appearances, it looked like I was struggling to get away from it, I wanted more.

I don’t know who wore out first:  Sir’s hand or my cock.  Finally, I was flaccid and he had stopped. 

Sir took the last item out of the bag, a trick towel to clean up.  Sir wiped his hands, then inspected and wiped the toys as he put them away.  Then he removed the restraints on my ankles and put them away.  Then he released my hands from the beam and returned them to behind my back.  He put the velcro briefs back on me.  It hung a bit awkward and disheveled when he was done dressing me.  Who was I to complain?  How could I complain with a ball gag in my mouth.

Sir nodded to a few of the men who had made no pretense about watching us.  Sir took the end of the leash and lead me to the door.  I walked back to the hotel restrained, ball gag in place, and covered in lube.  

I love Berlin for its kinky & extreme sex.  As a slut, I feel at home here.