Peter’s Train Journey
Master gave His loyal butler Peter a few weekends off each year to visit his family in his home city. As usual, Master Had used another of his slaves, who worked in travel, to book the train tickets, which had been sent to Peter’s phone. The outward journey had gone well and Peter had spent a relaxing weekend with his family.
On Sunday morning, Master messaged Peter with orders on which train to catch and what to wear. The trains ran fairly frequently along the line. After a few stops in the suburbs, the line climbed into the hills, stopping at a number of remote, village stations that saw little activity apart from groups of hikers in the summer. Definitely the scenic route! Master ordered Peter to wear his black neoprene pouch jockstrap, black socks and 8-hole DM boots, tight black jeans, white t-shirt and black leather biker jacket, and to send Him a selfie before he set off for the station.
The train was an old diesel two-car unit that had been used on the route for years. This morning it wasn’t very busy and Peter sat at a table on his own. The train departed on time, and most of the other passengers left the train at the early suburban stops. As the train left the last of these, the conductor made his way down the train checking tickets. When he got to Peter, he took his ticket, checked something on his phone and told Peter to follow him to the conductor’s compartment at the back of the train. Peter followed him in and the conductor shut the door, put down his ticket machine and showed Peter his phone: it was the selfie Peter had sent Master that morning. Without a word, he pushed Peter to his knees in the cramped compartment, unzipped and released his fat, half-erect cock.
“Your Master tells me you’re a whore for stranger cock, boy,“ he said, “so get to work.” He grabbed the back of Peter’s head and pushed his cock into the butler’s mouth. As Peter’s tongue went to work, the conductor sighed with pleasure and quickly became fully erect, taking pleasure in hearing Peter choke and splutter as he used Peter’s eager mouth to get off. Peter worked the conductor’s cock like a pro, his hand squeezing his balls and feeling them tighten as he got close. With a grunt, he shot his load into Peter’s mouth, held his cock there for a moment then withdrew and told him to lick it clean. Peter complied and the conductor tucked it back into his uniform, passed Peter a bottle of water and ushered him out of the compartment, as the train approached the next stop.
“You’re getting off here for a while,” said the conductor as he opened the door for Peter, “have a nice day and thank you for travelling with us today.” The door slammed shut and the train pulled out of the station. Further along the platform, the former station office had been converted into an Indian restaurant. As Peter walked towards it, a burly, bearded Asian guy in a spattered apron opened a door and stepped out onto the platform, followed by a cloud of steam and the unmistakable aroma of Indian food. As he wiped his sweaty brow with a towel, he looked up at Peter and checked his phone. He looked at Peter again and grinned. “Aha, you must be the delivery I was expecting. Come inside, I’ve got something you’ll like.”
Peter took in the chef’s broad shoulders and upper arms, enhanced by a tight t-shirt as he followed him through the kitchen into the restaurant where the blinds were closed and there was just enough light to see. “Hi Peter, I’m Ranjit,” said the cook as he pulled off his apron and slumped onto a richly-coloured sofa, undoing his jeans and pulling out a substantial cock surrounded by abundant black body hair. “Let’s have a look at what your Master has sent me,“ he said. “Put on a show for me.”
Peter turned around and bent forward, pushing out his arse as he unbuckled his belt and slid down his jeans to reveal his arse framed by the neoprene jock.
“Mmm,” said Ranjit, “Your Master knows I like a peachy white arse. Spread your cheeks for me.”
Peter reached back and did as he was told, feeling his hole twitch.
“Jacket off and come over here, boy.”
Peter complied and inhaled rich spices as Ranjit pushed his head down onto his hard cock. Peter’s tongue and hot mouth had him fully hard in minutes.
“Your Master was right when he said you were a whore for dark meat,” he said, “and you’re going to get it.”
Ranjit rose to his feet and bent Peter over one of the tables. Peter felt a gob of spit hit his arse crack, followed by another, then a finger pushing into his hole, followed quickly by a fat, throbbing cock. Ranjit thrust in hard then savoured the feeling of Peter’s tight hole trying to repel the penetration, then accepting it.
“Fuck yes,” he whispered in Peter’s ear. “Tight white arse, my favourite.”
Peter’s cock was hard and straining at his jock pouch as Ranjit started to fuck his hole hard, holding his head down on the table top. “Take it boy, fucking take it,” he shouted as his cock hit Peter’s prostate and exploded deep inside. As he withdrew the automatic loudspeaker on the platform crackled into life announcing the next train. “Get dressed boy, you’ve got a train to catch,” grinned Ranjit.
Back on the train Peter clenched his hole shut as he sat down, but any thoughts of rest were dispelled when his phone buzzed with a message from Master.
“I hope your journey’s going well. I will enjoy watching the webcam footage Ranjit will be sending me from the restaurant. Get off at the next stop for another treat. Good boy.”
Peter had barely sent his thanks to Master when he felt the train slowing as it approached the next stop.
Peter stepped down from the train and slammed the door shut. As it pulled away, silence descended onto what looked like a deserted station. He walked up the platform to the station building and saw it was being converted into a house. The windows had been double glazed and electrical cables poking from the walls were evidence of rewiring. Peering through the window, he saw painters’ scaffolding and a half-painted wall. As he rounded the corner of the building, he saw three burly black guys in paint-spattered overalls sitting in folding chairs having their tea break. They looked up as Peter approached, and the older foreman smiled.
“Looks like the entertainment’s arrived as promised, lads,” he said. As he made eye contact, Peter recognised him as the doorman from one of the gay clubs in his home city. He saw Peter recognise him. “Hi,” he said, “never wondered what I did for my day job?” “Uhm, no,” Peter stuttered, “did you get a message on your phone?”
“Of course,” the foreman replied, “it’s a good job you’re here, as we all need to empty our balls and the next train’s not for another hour.”
He walked around and stood behind Peter, sniffing ostentatiously. “Mmm white boy sweat and a strong hint of spice,” he said, so the others could hear, “Looks like we’re not the first to play with him today. I wonder what we’ll find down here.” He reached round, undid Peter’s belt and pushed his jeans to his knees. As his hand groped Peter’s cock inside the jock pouch, he felt his precum and lifted his finger to his nose then his lips to taste it.
Slapping Peter’s arse, he turned him around and shuffled him into the house with his jeans around his ankles. Once indoors, he pulled them off over his boots and pushed Peter to his knees. The two others had followed them inside and were now groping their crotch bulges as their boss pushed Peter to his knees and pulled out his huge black cock.
“I’m told he has a thing for black cocks, so let’s see how much,“ he said, as he guided Peter’s head to his bobbing cockhead, already pushing back his foreskin and dripping precum. “Watch and learn,” he said, smiling at the others.
His first thrusts hit the back of Peter’s throat, making him gag and his eyes fill with tears.
“Look up at me, boy,” the foreman said, as Peter’s drool ran out of his mouth over the swollen black ball sac. He could see the desire in Peter’s eyes and his hard cock tenting his jock pouch and he was enjoying showing Peter off to the others.
“You love my black cock don’t you white boy?” Peter nodded.
“Say it, boy, tell my mates.”
“I love your black cock.”
“But not just mine, eh white boy?”
“No, Sir”
“You heard him, lads, come and join us.”
The two others stood up and came over, pulling out their hardening cocks.
“Let’s see how much black cock this greedy white slut can manage.”
With that, the foreman pushed the first lad’s cock into Peter’s mouth, dipping it into the pool of drool there, then onto the second lad’s tool. The two painters put their arms around each other’s shoulders as they thrust into Peter’s eager, drooling mouth.
Then Peter felt the foreman’s tongue on his hole and, as he relaxed and opened up to it, the first load he had taken leaked out.
“Fuck,” said the foreman, “it’s sloppy seconds for us.”
He pulled Peter to his feet and walked him over to the scaffolding, pushing him down over it as he continued to alternate between the other two cocks with his mouth. Then Peter felt the foreman’s throbbing cockhead pressing against his hole demanding entry. As he thrust inside, Ranjit’s load dribbled out over his balls.
The forcing open of Peter’s hole made him open his mouth wider to the two cocks, taking them into his throat as the painters egged each other on. The foreman then withdrew and gestured to one of them to come around behind Peter, allowing him to monopolise the other’s fat dick in his throat.
The foreman guided the painter’s cock to Peter’s hole.
“There you go lad, your first white boy pussy,” he whispered, as the cock slid inside Peter. The lad moaned as his boss twisted his nipples, making him thrust harder and making Peter take the other cock deeper in his throat. Then the lad fucking Peter’s hole squealed and bucked and Peter realised his boss was fucking him. Peter felt the black cock swell inside him as the older man began to fuck the painter in earnest, and, with a moan, the lad shot his load inside Peter, squeezing his boss’s cock inside him. He pulled out and collapsed onto a chair as his boss entered Peter again.
“Mmm, I can feel that fresh load around my dick,” he said. Then he looked across to the painter who was skullfucking Peter. “Is he getting you close?” he asked.
When the lad nodded, he told him to pull out and to jerk off in Peter’s face. Watching the lad stroke his huge black cock as he was fucked hard by the lad’s boss was going to make Peter cum hands free. The lad’s breathing went ragged and he threw back his head as he shot strings of hot cum over Peter’s face. Peter felt himself hitting the edge and crossing it as he shot his load into his jock pouch, his shudders and spasms triggering the foreman’s orgasm. With a roar, he gripped Peter’s hips and flooded his ravaged hole with another dump of hot spunk, then pulled out. He threw Peter his jeans and jacket and told him to get dressed, as he pulled out his phone.
“Your train’s due in ten minutes, boy. I’m just thanking your Master, who’s been watching this session,” he said, pointing at a blinking camera in a corner of the room.
Peter got dressed and walked awkwardly back to the platform, feeling simultaneously drained and filled.
The train pulled in and Peter noticed the muscular, ginger-bearded conductor as he leaned out of the open door to check the other doors were clear, before closing the doors and signalling to the driver to depart. Peter had hardly sat down when the conductor approached his seat and showed him his selfie on his phone.
“Peter?”, he asked, and when he nodded he told him he had a message for Peter in his compartment. For the second time that day, Peter made his way to the compartment at the rear of the train. Once inside, Peter moved to kneel, but the conductor turned him around and spreadeagled him facing the compartment wall, reaching round and pulling down his jeans.
“Show me your arse, boy” he said, “your Master tells me there’s a tasty treat in there for me.”
He dropped to his knees and Peter felt his beard tickle his arse crack and then his tongue lapping at his hole. As Peter’s cock hardened in his jock, he relaxed and the spunk inside began to dribble out onto the probing tongue, provoking a moan from the eager felcher as he tasted it. He lifted his head to mutter “good boy” and then went back for more, his probing tongue sending waves of pleasure through Peter’s body as he lapped up his treat.
He reached up and freed Peter’s hard cock from the jock pouch, sliding the foreskin back and forth over the leaking head. Now it was Peter who was moaning. Peter felt the conductor’s finger replace his tongue and start probing inside as he turned Peter around to feast on his throbbing, dripping cock. He squeezed Peter’s balls with his free hand and Peter started thrusting into his hot, wet mouth and he sucked harder and faster until Peter spasmed and shot his load hard into the conductor’s mouth as he milked the butler’s balls. Finally he leaned back and admired Peter’s cock as he licked his lips.
“Good boy, that was just what I needed. Thank your Master for me.” He reached over to the intercom, flicked a switch and calmly announced to the passengers that the train would soon be arriving at its destination, as Peter put his cock away and pulled up his jeans. As he left the train with the other passengers, he noticed some telltale drops of fresh cum on the conductor’s beard.
Peter’s phone buzzed in his pocket: it was a message from Master saying He and Thomas were parked nearby, ready to pick him up. They both grinned as Peter got into the car and he realised they had been watching his encounters throughout the day.
“So glad you had a good journey and that you managed to please everyone I arranged to meet you,” said Master, as he put His arms around Peter, “Good boy!”
