Disclaimers: The feedback is appreciated and making the writing more enjoyable, thanks! gjtravel1a@BigString.com
As said so often, the usual disclaimers, please read only if you are old enough, enjoy stories about m2m sex, have an interest in a variety of sexual expressions, and abide by whatever laws you choose to live under...
THE TRAIN: Chapter #2
Though sitting in the railroad train's dining car across from this handsome, powerful, man my mortification was complete. I felt cheap, used, owned and somehow deliriously happy.
That sexy voice was addressing me again, "you will eat quickly so that we can get back to my room and begin your training. I sense there is much you will need to learn on this trip."
I nibbled at the food. How can I be so miserable, feeling so used, anxious, and without the slightest idea of what would be happening to me within the next few hours,,,, and yet so fucking turned-on that my cock was as hard as it had ever been? I both dreaded the meal to end and counted the seconds when this hot blond stud would be finished eating. I sensed that I should sit quietly, look down at my soup bowl, and wait. He, for I still didn't know his name, ate methodically, but with no sense of rush, just absolute control.
The damn smirking waiter came to the table with a sheet of paper. The blonde hunk looked the waiter in the eye, briefly nodded, and the tray with the paper was placed before me. The waiter stuck a pen in my hand and said, "Sign here".
Dazed by their arrogance, embarrassed at being treated this way, and nearly blinded by sexual desire, I signed. What do I call the man sitting across from me? The only thing that came to mind was Sir. He got up, carefully folded his napkin, glanced at me and headed back towards the Pullman cars. His pace was measured and purposeful. The glance was enough to snare me and pull me out of my seat, nearly tripping which only added to my embarrassment. The smart-ass waiter gave a full-smirk seeing me trip over my own feet in an attempt to leave the table and keep up with that hot pair of ass-cheeks leaving the dining car. Somewhere in my mind, I still pictured myself slipping my now fully engorged cock between those cheeks and riding his ass. I felt total disequilibrium and I thought that somehow, if I could just fuck him, I would begin to gain control again of my mind and body. What a stupid, naïve git I was!
As I trippingly made my `grand exit' from the dining car, I could see the blonde with the great ass also smirking. He had seen me in the reflection of the glass exit door as I tripped while exiting the table. In my confusion, I thought I heard the waiter say something that sounded suspiciously like, "Stupid boy." I must be wrong, how could anyone be that arrogant. I was the customer, right? The blonds' fleeting ass and my hard cock led me away without addressing it. I must have been wrong in hearing that, right?
As I entered the first Pullman car, the blond was already going around the first bend. The first part of the car has the smaller rooms similar to the one I was in. The back of the car had the larger `state rooms' so the hallway zigged to the right. You could not see all the way through the car from end-to-end. I did not want him to disappear into one of the state rooms. Though he had passed my room on the way to the dining car earlier in the evening, which room was actually his and in which Pullman car? I could just imagine if I lost sight of him, how the conversation with the Train Conductor would proceed, "Excuse me Sir, I am looking for one of your passengers. No, I don't know his name or room number. He just has an incredible ass, gorgeous eyes, and the only way I know to break the spell he seems to have cast over me is to pull those tight jeans over that hot ass and fuck him till we get to the coast. Can you help me find him?" I was sure that this kind of conversation would get me kicked off the train at the next stop, if not sooner!
I felt both relief and my cock jump as I turned the bend and saw that beautiful ass walking purposefully through the exit door of the first Pullman car and into the car with my room. At age 26, well-educated, well-employed, well-liked, and what might be considered an `upstanding member of the community', I, much to my dismay, found myself literally scurrying after a guy and his hot ass.
There was a moment of confusion for he stopped at the door to my room and entered. Where was his? I paused ever so briefly, but lust pushed me forward. Entering my own room, I almost felt a modicum of power returning. That was quickly stripped away as I looked ever so briefly into those searing eyes. My own quickly averted and I found myself standing before this man, eyes downcast to the carpet with my hands rising behind me becoming a virtual supplicant. There was silence. My nostrils breathed in a mixture of his red wine and a strong, lusty, natural smell of a hot man. I suspected my cock was leaking pre-cum, but I dared not check. All my resolve to bend this blond over, rip his jeans down and fuck his ass melted away in the glare of his commanding presence. It wasn't just those icy-clear blue eyes, but it was as though his power – power over me – was oozing from his every pore. I was smothering in it and beginning to feel dizzy.
"Strip."
His words thundered in my ears as though he had shouted them, but it had been a calm, direct order. My mouth gapped. Me, strip in front of a stranger? In my own room? The window shades were not even drawn and though the lights weren't on in the room, anyone walking by could peer in and with some strain, see me naked. Whenever the lights of a station or crossing shown through the outside window, I would be silhouetted. Nipples and cock erect and clearly visible for all to see. Blond god or not, he must be fucking crazy!! I started to raise my eyes and speak in protest when he casually reached out with his right hand, grabbed my left, now erect nipple and began to twist. At first I moaned at his touch and then the pain began. I started to say something in the range of `Ouch' and to try to turn away when his left hand came smacking me firmly on my face. Stunned, I stopped, froze, and listened to the words flowing from his mouth and covering me like a net.
"Listen boy, you are here to serve me. You know it or you wouldn't have nearly broken your neck falling over yourself to come after me, so just shut up and listen. Here are the first of your new rules.
- Speak when spoken to and only then. I don't care what you have to say unless I ask you about it. 2. When I give you an order, you will do it immediately and without hesitation. It doesn't matter if you want to do something different or afraid it might embarrass you or what other thought may flush through that shit-for-brain of yours. IT DOES NOT MATTER. What I say, you will do immediately and without question. 3. Whatever the last order was, you will follow it until you get a new order. You do not think, assume, or wonder. You will act on my order and my order alone.
(At this point, he grabbed my other nipple and began twisting it equally hard.) The pleasure had turned to pain, but oddly, I did not pull away...just kept staring at the floor and strained to listen.
- If I let you speak, you will speak with as few words as possible and you will address me as Master or Sir. 5. If I let you into the presence of anyone else, you will treat them by these same rules and if they have orders from me, you will obey them as though they came from my mouth. (My ears were hearing, but my brain could not quite grasp what he meant by this, I would, I thought to myself, figure this out later.) 6. There are three days between here and the coast, I will have you trained like a good bitch boy before we hit the California Border.
Panic set in. I was to change trains in Denver and head to Seattle, I wasn't going to California. The man I was to call Sir sensed my panic and again his hand left my nipple and came across my cheek. I figured I could raise this issue a little later, there was almost 2 days before we got Denver.
"I will not repeat myself again, either strip, or walk out of the room and go back to the dining car, alone and as a failure."
Failure??? It only took a brief second to realize that he had me pegged. Either I submit further to him, or I would fail myself in exploring this side of me. He had read me and knew I would strip for him, but just how far would I go?
I raised my hands and pulled my shirt out of my pants, The Master let go of my nipples. There was a sudden intake of breath on my part as the blood rushed back in, but I kept unbuttoning the shirt, slid it off my shoulders and let it drop to the floor. There was another sudden hand motion and my face was again stinging.
"Is this how you treat property? Pick it off the floor and fold it neatly you worthless cumdump." I was startled at how I felt so badly about displeasing him.
The shirt was quickly folded, along with my T-Shirt. I slid my loafers off, un-did my belt, slid my chinos down just as the lights of a crossing shot through the outside window and into my room. I was perfectly outlined. Had someone been walking in the hallway or in the room across from me, I would have been frozen for that moment, head bowed, undressing before my Master.. Had they be able to see closely, they would have seen my whole body had turned crimson with shame and embarrassment. Everything in my southern upbringing told me that this was wrong. You don't get naked in public, you don't submit to another man, and you sure as shit don't contemplate having sex with him, especially in a public place like a railroad train roaring across the cold Illinois landscape. Still, my sox and boxers joined the growing pile of clothing. My hands again floated up behind my back, my eyes concentrated on the floor, and my entire body burned with embarrassment. After a few moments, Sir, (I realized I was actually beginning to think of this `kid' as Sir) began to run his hands purposefully over my body. Pulling on my nipples, slapping my stomach to see if my muscles were tight, and reaching around to see how tight my ass felt. He grabbed my shoulders and turned me around, ran his hands across my shoulder and down my back. There was a quick thwack as he slapped both my ass cheeks. I fleetingly remembered that as I had entered my room only a few minutes ago, it had still been my desire/expectation to be doing this to him. My cock again started to get hard at the picture of me towering over his blond frame ready to get my cock up his butt. It was then that I felt Sir's powerful grip begin to pull and squeeze my balls. I stifled a yelp as he pulled and twisted them. My cock retreated. I sensed my hard-on was not something the Master wanted to see. I began to learn my lesson.
Sir gave my balls an extra pull and then flipped me back around. He grabbed them again and began to pull me down. My knees buckled and I was on the floor, naked, hands behind my back, my nipples and balls already sorely abused, and now at crotch level with a guy whose existence I had not even known a mere hour ago. Was it an hour or a lifetime? What if someone walked by and saw this? Not just someone I knew, what was the chance of that, but some lady, the conductor, or another guy who decided to join us???? My mind went into overload, helped along by the immense desire I felt looking at `the package' before me. The intense male musk filled my nostrils and I began to only concentrate on this man, my new Master?!?!
Sir's hands pulled me against him. My hands were physically free. I could have wrestled him down to try to fuck him. I could have at least pushed myself away, but it was like I was already bound, not by a rope, but a new force. It was a heavy dose of this man's power and beauty, the situation, and some internal desire that must have been lurking deep within. It bound me and kept me on my knees as tightly as if my hands were bound by rope and my knees chained to the floor. Like a good boy, I waited for my Master to speak. This began to freak me out, until I felt his cock began to grow hard against my cheek through his jeans and I continued to deeply breath in the musky male scent emanating from my Master. I began to relax and rub my cheek against his jeans. My Master's grip loosened.
"Unzip my jeans with your teeth boy."
I nuzzled and struggled to grip the elusive piece of metal that kept me from my prize. I gradually worked it down and began to work at the metal button. The Master's hand slapped my hungry mouth away.
"You stupid bitch, haven't you been listening? I should push you out into the hallway naked right now. Did I tell you to undo my button bitch? Did I? What do you say to your Master boy?"
"I...I...the boy is very sorry Sir."
"Turn around and lean against the chair. Your Master is going to punish you for being so eager and stupid, for thinking for yourself."
I clumsily turned and put my face in the chair, and felt Sir's hand begin to whip my ass.
"Count you stupid bitch, don't you know anything about how to please your Master?"
"One,,,,,,two,,,,,,,three...finally, my ass throbbing with pain, twenty.'
"What do you say now bitchboy?"
"Thank you...Sir."
"Now, turn-around and you may work on getting the button free with your teeth."
I realized I was crying, me, I was crying! What the fuck was I doing following this guy's orders? What a idiot to be crying, but I found my face drawn as though by magnetic force to my Master's crotch. As my cheek brushed against the jeans, I realized that my Master must have enjoyed beating my ass for his cock was straining against the fabric. I was proud of my 7" long and very thick cock, but his, I suspected, would put mine to shame. Panic again began to rise, just where would his Monster be going?!? His musky smell and power again washed this away as I concentrated on getting my Master's jeans down.
"Now bitch, pull the jeans down with that cocksucking mouth of yours and be warned, if I ever feel your teeth on any part of me, you will be severely punished." I shuddered for I had no doubt he meant it, but I was still a virgin when it came to guys. I was also still sort of hoping that somehow it wouldn't be my mouth around a cock or that my ass wouldn't be fucked, but I was just being delusional. Where else could this be headed. Also, I wanted him to take my ass and mouth, I just was having trouble admitting it to myself, but I knew he knew it. What I was beginning to realize was this knowledge didn't matter to him. Whether I wanted him or not, he was going to have me as and where he wanted. I didn't have needs, only holes for him to fill and use.
As I struggled to pull the jeans down (I pictured them sliding over his beautiful ass) I nearly had my eye poked out by my Master's cock flopping free. It bounded up and bounced against his shirt. A stunning and staggering 9 inches long, thick, hard, and it seemed to be seeking a wet hole to fill. Sir wore no underwear. Damn, how sexy was that to me!
"Kiss it cocksucker, and remember what I said about your teeth."
In Texas, good girls never gave head, and only a few of the easy girls did, so this was not something I had much personal experience in receiving, and now I was giving.
I gingerly put my lips against my Master's cockhead, remembering his warning and still a little reticent about kissing another guy's cock. It was surprisingly soft. My nostrils filled with his smell and I nearly swooned like a schoolgirl in a movie. I was becoming a bitch.
I gently licked around the head. It was not only not bad, but really quite wonderful, a mixture of soft skin, hard dick and being his made it so erotic. His right hand took my left ear and his left hand guided his cock to my mouth. No truer words were ever spoken when my new Master said, "Open your mouth cocksucker and get what you have been wanting all your sorry life, bitch."
My lips parted and I became a cocksucker bitchboy.
The Master's cock began to rape my mouth and throat with firm thrusts. I fought back gagging as the invading monster took control of my mouth and throat. Instinctively, I pulled my hands from behind my back and grasped at Sir's legs to hold on.
Immediately, I felt his hand coming across my face and he yelled, "You stupid idiot. How dare you touch your Master???"
He flipped me over, grinding my face into the seat, and began to wallop my ass, first one side then another. My already inflamed ass burned with each slap. Like a true bitchboy, I didn't fight it and let my tears of pain flood into the seat cushion. Finally, my Master placed his knee firmly in the middle of my back holding me down. I heard some fumbling noise and in a moment of panic, I realized he was pulling my belt out of my pants that were neatly stacked on the tear-stained seat cushion. This next step seemed to push me down totally into Sir's power as I felt him pull my hands firmly behind my back and have him bind them tightly together. I briefly struggled, but my Master tore into my ass again with slap after slap. At this point, my ass and I were becoming numb. I lay there in tears, my Master working my ass with his hand, mortified that someone would walk by and see me, and yet finding an odd satisfaction for I could see in the reflection in the glass, my Master's cock had a raging hard-on. He seemed to love doing this to me, his new cocksucking slave boy. Had he turned me into this or was this what I was all along? Who knew.
I realized that he had stopped paddling my ass and I tried to control my crying. He turned me around, my hands now bound, and he proceeded where he left off, raping my newly de-flowered mouth. In a virtual daze, I kept trying to take more and more of that cock. Each thrust seemed to get deeper. Soon, I was not able to breath when it was deep in my throat for it blocked my air. This also caused me to panic, but he would pull back just enough so that I could get a whiff of his musky smell and I would again eagerly begin working my tongue up and down the shaft that was invading my mouth. I sensed his delight as I learned to run my tongue up and down his piss slit when he would pull his cock back to the edge of my mouth which had become nothing but my Master's fuckhole.
I could tell that he was tensing up and feared that I would be forced to swallow his cum. Just as his hot cum was erupting from his balls, he pulled out and shot stream after stream of hot cum across my face, into my hair, and down my chest. When the last shot streamed from that magnificent beast, he slapped my face with it. Then, he used my hair to whip off the cum. I realized I felt more than a twinge of disappointment at not having had his load shoot down my throat, but I realized I was now marked as his property. A cocksucking cumdump.
I wondered/feared what would happen next. Would he leave? Would I ever see him again? Ever be allowed to taste his cock again? Smell that incredible musky smell of his crotch? On the other hand, what if he wasn't through with me? How would I ever get my life back? In the next few moments, I kept wanting and then rejecting seeing myself as his bitch. Want/reject/want/reject/want...but then, the choice wasn't mine, was it?
The Master picked my boxers off the pile of clothes and slide them over my head backwards so that I couldn't see out. His cum was already drying on my body, sticking the underwear to my cum soaked hair and face. But the smell of his juices drove me crazy. He pushed me to the floor so that I was sitting on my inflamed ass.
"Listen cumdump, stay exactly there on the floor. You will get further instructions. You move or disobey, you will be punished."
With that, I heard the curtains pulled (mercifully) down, then the door slide open and closed. I sensed I was alone in the room. A sadness came over me and a longing to be back on my knees in front of my Master. Instead, I sat in the gently rocking train seat, naked, except for my boxers covering my head and my hands tied behind my back with my own belt. Would my Master come back? I could only hope so, but then what...