Platform



  



   A submissive consensual gang bang in a railway platform toilet







   It was about eleven at night.  Hardly any trains were going to come past

at this hour.  He took me into the gents toilets at the end of the station

platform.  It was a small white tiled room smelling of piss and damp. 

There were urinals down one wall and alongside was a single door-less

cubicle.  He told me to take my clothes off and without looking at him I

silently obeyed, leaving them in a pile on the floor.  He made me stand

facing the urinals, naked with my legs apart, placing my hands against the

wall, with my buttocks thrusting out behind me Then he delivered a series

of violent lashes with a small horsewhip he had brought with him.  The

lashing must have lasted five minutes, and by the end of it my bottom stung

with fire.  I knew without looking in the cracked mirror that my buttocks

were covered in neat crimson horizontal lines, and that in a couple of

places the force of the whipping meant my skin had broken, and my own blood

glistened in the light.  He took me into the cubicle, fastened a pair of

strong handcuffs to one wrist, then passed the chain through behind the

downpipe from the cistern on the wall.  He closed the other handcuff on my

other wrist and I was trapped there, standing astride the toilet bowl,

unable to pull my hands away from the steel downpipe.  I stared at the

tiled wall as he nudged my feet forwards until they were further under the

bowl.  A second pair of cuffs were then fastened to one ankle, passed round

behind the underside of the bowl, then fixed to the other ankle.  So there

I stood, my ass thrust slightly backwards, my helpless cock upright and

hard against my stomach in front of me, and the cold night air making my

skin goosepimple.  The final indignity was a silk blindfold, to turn the

dim world of the toilet into pitch black, and a rubber gag ball, forced

into my mouth and chained behind my head.  And then he left.







   About five minutes later I heard a man's footsteps along the platform.

He hesitated outside the toilet door, as though looking round, then came

quickly in.  I heard him move through the urinals section, then sensed his

bulk as he entered the cubicle behind me.  There was a faint gasp of breath

as he first caught sight of me.  Then a gentler sigh.  I heard him rummage

with his trousers and undo his zip.  For a long time he didn't touch me,

but I could hear a slight rustling noise, so I guess he was playing with

himself whilst staring at my naked waiting body, my lined buttocks, my

hanging testicles.  Then at last his hand stroked across my bum cheeks,

feeling the raised marks.  I could hear his breath quickening, and could

sense him wanking harder.  His fingers prised my buttock to one side, so

that he could see my asshole better.  Then he pushed one finger up against

my anus and poked it inside me.  I gasped on the gag as his digit scraped

back and forth in my anal lining, his fingernail catching at my inner skin.

Then he slipped it back out, paused and stuck two fingers up my orifice. 

Somehow it felt more intrusive and more humiliating than being fucked up

the bum.  With a cock there is more softness, more flesh, but with two bony

fingers pushing in and out of my backside the whole thing felt painful and

vaguely medical.  I just hoped to high heaven he wasn't planning to stick

his whole fist up there.  But if he did want to, then there was nothing I

could do to stop him.







   But it was my lucky night.  After a few more moments he couldn't stand

to wait any longer, his fingers came out, and the knob of his cock slipped

between my buttocks and up against my asshole.  One hand held one buttock

to the side, to get better access, the other hand gripped my hip.  He

pushed, his cock slid up off my asshole and slipped up the crack in my

buttocks.  Swearing under his breath with frustration he gripped his cock

with one hand, and guided right into my hole.  A short jerk of his hips and

suddenly my sphincter gave and his cock was grinding its way up my rectum.

I bit hard into the rubber ball in my mouth, smothering the pain of totally

unlubricated entry.  Involuntarily my hips jerked away from him, as I tried

to evade the pain, but he was inside now, so he just held my hips with both

hands and slowly forced his whole length up me.  I was too dry to know if

he was big, or if it just felt that way, and within a few moments he was

fucking back and forth with intent force.  His trouser front slapped

against my bruised buttocks, and his zip grated on my skin.  I realised

that his cock must be just sticking out the front of his trousers, so it

must be a good length.







   I felt him panting short sharp breaths against my naked back and the

nape of my neck.  His hands ran over my buttocks, exulting in the feel of

the raised lash marks.  It wouldn't be long now.  I realised suddenly that

I had no idea how old he was, or even what colour he was.  He had been

selected for me, and told to come here, but I would never know who he was.

A few seconds after this thought had seared across my mind he drove his

length right up inside my bottom and came with a sudden groan.  He jerked

in orgasm, his body spasming against my back, hurting the lash marks on my

ass, and his balls emptied themselves deep and hard into my rectum.  He

left his cock up me, as his breathing calmed down, then suddenly he pulled

back out.  I jerked, helpless and naked, as his cock left my body, my

sphincter jerking closed behind him, trapping inside the air and the sperm

he had left.  Where his cock had been there was now only my flesh and his

come, held snug and deep inside me.  He quickly did up his trouser zip and

was gone within seconds.  I heard his footsteps echo off down the platform,

and then there was silence.







   The rain fell outside and pattered on the glass skylight above my head.

I was all alone and I was getting cold.  I farted air, his sperm moving

inside me.  I wondered how long I would be left there.  If there were other

men due to visit, or not.  I heard another set of footsteps, but they came

and passed without entering.  Then silence again.  The muscles in my arms

were starting to ache.  Then I heard a much softer tread, like rubber soled

shoes, perhaps trainers, squeaking slightly on the platform outside. 

Whoever it was padded into the next door room.  He paused and again I heard

his trainers squeak slightly with moisture on the tiled floor.  Then he

entered the cubicle behind me.  Immediately I knew that he was physically

big.  It is funny how when you cannot see, your other senses become more

alert, He hadn't yet touched me and yet somehow my skin sensed him, sensed

a large strong man filling the space just behind me.  I heard a belt

unbuckle, the clink of the metal.







   Then I heard the leather sliding out of the slots of his trousers.  I

gulped, and tensed for what I suspected was going to happen.  I didn't hear

a swing, or a whistle.  The first I knew was an ear-splitting crack as the

leather belt cracked across my ass.  In such a confined echoing space the

noise was deafening.  The pain reverberated through my buttocks a split

second later, and I twisted from my wrists.  Another slash of leather

across my bottom and I cried out against the rubber ball in my jaws.  How

could he swing so hard in such a small space?  He must have folded the belt

in half, which might also account for the extra noise.  Such niceties of

deduction were lost on me as the third stinging blow slapped home.  I

twisted in the air, banging my knee against one side of the cubicle.  The

belt hit me again.  I tugged so hard on the handcuffs I thought the metal

would break my skin.  Again and again he thrashed me, with all the strength

of his arm, the belt sometimes thumping into the walls during its arc,

sometimes hitting me without warning.  I could feel the tears starting

under the blindfold, and I wondered how much more I could take.  With

relief I heard the belt clatter to the floor and he rapidly undid his

jeans. Seconds later his legs pushed underneath me, straddling the toilet

bowl, and the cock in his hand was put into place against my asshole from

below.  He thrust upwards with one sudden push and I was abruptly skewered

onto his cock.  Again the gag took the force of my yell, and he rammed

himself right up to the hilt.  He gripped my shoulders and thrust up into

me like an angry dog mounting its mate.  There was a lot of strength in his

arms, and a lot of anger in his rigid straining cock.  I could feel it

arching up inside me, a tall ripping column of unforgiving flesh.







   He hammered up me, his hips slapping against my burning smarting

buttocks.  I could see stars in front of my blinded eyes.  This was a real

hard fucking.  My own cock was so hard that on each thrust it would bounce

against my stomach, quivering with its own life.  I found myself willing

him on, wanting him to fuck me harder, really use me and split me open,

empty the angry seething sperm of his balls into my open yielding flesh. 

My cock banged hard against the cistern pipe, and for a moment I nearly

came with the impact.  Desperately I jerked forwards into the darkness,

trying to hit it again with my knob, willing myself to come on this

terrible ravaging cock in my ass.  But he took it for an attempt to escape

and only pulled me down harder onto his pole, humping up into me with deep

grunts of effort.  So I thrust my buttocks back at him, opening my

sphincter on him, letting him get deeper still into my opening bowels. 

Then when he ground himself extra deep inside me I suddenly jerked forwards

as though trying to escape the force of his cock, and managed to bang again

into the pipe, and then graze off it and against the wall.  My knob

bounced, throbbed enormously, and suddenly I was coming, just at the moment

that he seized me and rammed his length back up to its very depths.  My

head exploded with light as my cock spewed come all over the wall in long

spasmodic shots, my whole brain focussed on that terrible surging energy in

my rear, his awesome fucking cock hammering back and forth, milking the

come out of my twitching balls and up my length.  Even as the pumping

stopped the orgasm continued, driven by the thrusting force in my asshole,

that was driving faster and faster into its own orgasm, preventing my own

from dying out.  Then he was there, driven in up to the root, his soft

hairy balls squashed into my open buttocks as they spent shot after shot

into my straining open bottom.  Distantly I heard him grunt, short angry

grunts of pent up power, like a bull, emptying its load.  And as I felt his

length spasm and shoot inside me, finally my own climax died and the lights

in my head started to fade.  I was so stunned by the strength and length of

my orgasm that I don't remember him withdrawing, and I don't even remember

him leaving.  The next thing I do remember clearly was hanging from my

wrists, gasping for breath, my own sweat drying coolly on my back, and my

now limp cock dribbling sperm down one thigh, matting my hairs with

stickyness.  And the cubicle behind me once again was empty.







   I didn't have as long to wait this time.  Only a few minutes later I

heard not one but two sets of footsteps.  They were uneven, weaving, almost

staggering.  I heard them enter next door, and a suppressed whisper, then a

giggle, probably as they peered round and saw me hanging there.  I probably

made a pretty picture, my white naked body hanging from the cistern, my

open legs arched astride the toilet bowl, my balls and limp cock hanging

pendulously between them, and my buttocks glowing red from the whip and the

belt.  They entered the cubicle clumsily, and I immediately smelt beer. 

Perhaps he had picked them up in a bar nearby and told them I was here,

waiting for visitors.  Or perhaps they had known in advance, but had to get

pissed in order to get up the courage to come.  Either way I heard the

rustle of trousers being undone and within a few moments a new cock pushed

its way up into my rectum.  With two good loads of come up there, the entry

was easier, and soon he was sliding back and forth with ease.  Now that I

had come, my own passion was exhausted and I felt and heard it all with a

kind of strange detachment.







   Then I heard another couple of muted whispers, and more movement.  Then

to my surprise I heard the man behind me groan in a deep way that means

only one thing: he was being entered himself.  For a moment his cock nearly

came out, so I pushed my buttocks backwards onto him, helping him get

deeper in my slippery bumhole.  He had nearly gone soft, so he probably was

being fucked.  But a few moments later I felt him confidently stiffening

inside me again, and now I was sure...  I could actually hear the slap of

another man's hips on his buttocks, slightly out of synch with the slaps

against my own.  The man behind me was sandwiched between a cock in his ass

and his own cock buried in my rear.  I heard him whisper again, and this

time I could make out that he was telling his friend or partner to do it

harder.  The slapping noise speeded up, and the man behind me was well and

truly buggered.  His hands played up and down my front, tweaking my

nipples, running over my pectorals and my belly.  He was disappointed by my

flaccid cock, so one hand started to massage it back and forth while the

other twiddled insistently at my left nipple.  Despite my recent orgasm I

felt myself stiffening in his hand, the experienced working and squeezing

bringing it back into life.  As I hardened between his fingers his cock

twitched inside my rectum and suddenly he was coming, his whole body

shaking against my back as he pumped, quivering with the impact of the

other man in his bottom.  The last few gasps were perfectly in time with

the loud slaps against his bottom, and the final pumps into me must have

matched the movement in his ass.  I was sorry when his hand left my upright

penis, but I didn't have much time for thought.  Within moments of his cock

sliding wetly back out of my orifice, the other man squeezed past him in

the cubicle, and his cock brushed my buttock.  It was very hot and very

sticky from being up the other man's ass.  Next his knob was pushing easily

through my sphincter, oiled with the shit already on it, and he was up me.

He screwed smoothly back and forth, and I knew that as well as three men's

come, I now had a man's shit being pushed up inside me, on the cock of the

fourth man.  He obviously enjoyed entering me so much that he withdrew and

slowly pushed it back in again, the fluids and the flesh of my asshole

separating glutinously around his knob and his shaft.  He fucked long and

smooth into the well lubricated membranes of my anal passage, working the

other man's shit deep up into my insides, before finally allowing his own

come to shoot into me and mingle with the mess.







   So finally I was left, hanging there in the dark, with the memories of

those four fuckings in my blinded mind, my own sperm oozing down the brick

wall in front of me, and my buttocks aching from the beatings.  My

sphincter twitched, and a big glob of sperm oozed out and dripped into the

toilet bowl underneath me, splashing into the water.  I heard the ripples

settle and then another drip fell from my insides.  I was tempted to strain

and empty the sperm and the dirt into the bowl, but another part of me was

proud to hold it inside, where they had left it.







   The rain had stopped.  I was getting cold again.  Two more trains came

speeding through the little station, on their way to London, but none of

them stopped.







   Finally I heard a step on the platform outside that I recognised.  It

was him.  He was coming back to get me.  I felt a strange surge of joy deep

inside.  He hadn't abandoned me.  And then suddenly he was in the cubicle,

I could smell him and sense him, just behind me.  He ran a finger up

between my buttocks, slippery wet in the sperm that greased my crack.  Then

he rang a hand over my welted cheeks.  Finally he undid the manacles, and

let me move my aching muscles.  I was surprised.  I had thought maybe he

too would want to fuck me, where they had fucked me.  But instead he lead

me into the urinals and made me kneel down, next to them.  He undid the

blindfold and took the rubber gag out of my mouth.  I worked my stiff jaws,

trying to get sensation back into them, and blinked in the light.  There

wasn't much light, only the glow of the platform lights through the door

and the skylight, but compared to the total darkness of the last hour it

was still strangely blinding.  I saw him unzip his trousers, turn to the

urinal and let go a stream of yellow piss into it.  After several seconds

he stemmed the flow, and turned towards me, a large yellow drop trembling

on the bottom lip of his foreskin.  I knew what was expected of me.  I

opened my mouth wide and put out my tongue.  He slipped his flaccid dick

between my lips and loosened the first squirt of piss into my mouth.  Then

another, bigger longer stream.  I gulped it down, drinking gratefully from

his bladder, replacing the stale taste of rubber in my mouth with the sweet

taste of his urine.







   He must have been drinking whilst waiting, because it seemed to take

ages for him to piss, emptying his bladder in shorter and shorter spurts

into my waiting open mouth.  Some trickled down my chin, and dripped onto

my naked chest, but I am pleased to say that I swallowed most of it.  And

when he had finished and started fucking into my mouth, stiffening against

my lapping tongue and swallowing throat, I felt nothing but exultation. 

This was the man who had been prepared to leave me at the mercy of all

those other anonymous men, who had let me get fucked again and again, had

let them beat me and fuck shit up me, but whilst I was kneeling there,

obediently sucking his cock, instead of feeling anger or repulsion I am

ashamed to say that my own cock was hardening in my lap.  I actually sucked

him as hard and as well as I could, because he had felt so much of me that

he had wanted to abuse and share me in that way.  And when he pulled out of

my mouth and pushed me face down onto the cold stinking tiles of the toilet

floor, my heart leapt inside me.  He was going to fuck me.  He was going to

fuck me where they had fucked me, leave his come where they had, legitimise

their spendings with his own.  He opened my legs, lay down on me, and put

his erection up my ass.  It went in easily and he screwed hard, grinding me

into the cold wet floor under him.







   He fucked me remorselessly, without pity and without feeling; but I

spread my thighs, arched my back and opened my bottom to him, letting him

put it deeper, wanting to feel him as deep as he could go, deeper than any

of them.  I was disappointed when he abruptly pulled out of my backside,

but excited to feel my head get lifted by my hair, feel him kneel next to

me and push his cock authoritatively into the back of my throat.  So, I was

going to taste it.  That was right.  That I should taste what had been left

in my insides, and that I should taste it on his cock.  His cock of all

people.  So I sucked it clean, tasting the sperm, and the dirt, and his

long stiff cock moved confidently back and forth between my lips.  He knew

that I would suck it.  If I had been there all night, and had been fucked

by twenty men, I would still suck it, after it had been up there, come what

may.







   But I found myself wishing that he wouldn't come in my mouth.  I wanted

him back there with the rest of them.  So I was pleased when he went back

round behind me again, screwed me back down into the floor, and fucked long

and hard.  My own cock was rigid against the floor, trapped between my body

and the hard tiles, and his fucking movement against my hips was wanking it

back and forth.  I concentrated all my thoughts and all my energy down

there into my knob, thinking of the fuckings I had received, and the

fucking I would receive in the future at his hands.  I was trembling on the

edge of coming when he must have sensed it and withdrew, coming round and

replacing it in my mouth again, so I could suck it clean one more time. 

But I could feel from the quivering stiffness of his skin under my tongue

that he was ready to come, so when he went back round to put it back up my

bottom I knew that this time it was going to be it.  He fucked hard and

fast, and when he suddenly jerked and shed his load into the rest of the

come in my ass, it only took me a few more thrusts against the floor to

feel the molten spurts jetting out of my own cock and oozing up between my

naked body and the floor.  As I came I thought of him pumping inside me,

and I can only say that for a few seconds I was happy.  Really happy.  I

was taking him.  And I was taking anything that he was willing to deliver

to me.  Or whoever.  Whatever he made me do I would do.  I suppose in that

moment of orgasm maybe I felt love.  It took surrendering myself to a blind

succession of men, it took abandoning all sense of self and giving myself

totally to another person's will and desires, but, at the end of the day,

it felt like love.  And indeed maybe it was.





   The End...