All over the world there are precious arrays of rituals that take place on every Sunday. In some cultures it is a time for rest or some variance of worship religious or otherwise. It is a chasm between the end and the beginning of the week where chores, emotions and progress can be settled and time is of the most import and not really of the most essential essence either. In the Wonderland of Berlin there is a dichotomy of nothing and everything.
Berlin is infamous for the amount of party that is readily available on the holiest days of the week (one might make a fine pun out of the word "holy" in this instance) as duly noted in the tag-line for a regular sex party event in Berlin called "Fuck the Leftovers" that accurately depicts the truth of the statement in itself. With the advent of party drugs mixed with an unhealthy dose of underemployed denizens combined with an abundant amount of thrill seeking sex tourists, you have an astounding equation that constitutes the greater constituency of party goers who thrive on debaucheries by way of R&R.
Parties mostly start on Thursday evening and can run late into early Tuesday morning depending on location, dosages, intervals of disco naps et al, leaving an obvious apex on Sunday where the water everywhere but not a drop to drink rivers part and allow everyone to be on the same plane. For example: this is where the real Berliners know better to go to the latter end of Berghain madness, perhaps the best known and revered discotheque in the world (I still have not gone). The tourists stand in line and go from Friday and Saturday - so when natural selection starts picking them off, the survival of the fittest is in full play as the jaded home team mingles with the veteran and seasoned visitors.
There are the private in-house parties hosted by the city's dubious elite, mostly part time workers who spend a lot of time out of town traveling for work or not a lot of time at their actual job in the city and hone in on their three to four days a week off to invite over people like themselves who do not enjoy the proclivities of big, cheap and loud that the seedy parts of Wonderland offer up. These are the folks that lead double lives as upstanding members of society versus ambassadors to the darkest side of Berlin.
Then there are the regular bars and clubs where you can meet an easy stranger just by starring or spitting at them. The socially inept gather at these dark rooms where loud music detracts any possibility of decent conversation and you can wallow in the unpleasant joy of not having to get to know anyone. In one place in particular that I visited this past week for the first time in a long time, I screamed in the ear of a man that accosted me (a fine, upstanding hairy German/Indian blend with his own business and a long-term relationship and the furriest balls I've ever tasted) the story of the time I was in the same place and I saw a skinny scraggly blond haired boy coming up from the dark room, wiping the corners of his mouth with his thumb and he was wearing a shirt that said "LIVE MORE THINK LESS". I giggled out that I thought it would make a much better motto for whore Berlin than "Arm Aber Sexy".
I could go on and on about the ways that this slut city celebrates their own rituals of sleaze religiously, but I want to take a moment to focus on my specific devoutness.
I do not put myself above or below the varying methods of having fun as aforementioned (actually, I have put myself above and below some of them), but I have a time-honored tradition that bodes well for my tastes that heavily involve voyeurism and ethnographic sexual anthropology research.
A certain famous web cam hosting service that shall remain nameless is probably my guiltiest pleasure that I indulge in and is perhaps a product of Catholic guilt more than anything because I can spend hours upon hours on any given Sunday praying to the Peeping Tom gods. It's the best.
Something like a cross between free theater and live television, but in the porno realm Webcam 1 (we'll call it) is set up as a veritable broadcasting mechanism for exhibitionists and the voyeurs who love them.
Though the site has been cracked down upon due to some rather frequent and unfortunate circumstances involving illegal activity, it's not just the bad stuff that is worth viewing - for me, just the thrill of voyeurism is enough and some of my favorite shows have nothing to do with sex or drugs, something commonplace in many of the broadcasts.
I can and mostly do sign on anonymously, and I will admit the biggest thrills in accordance to my fetish come in two different ways: if I am watching someone do something mundane and normal in the realm of daily activity that could provide simulated spying (i.e. someone taking a shower or cooking naked, both which happen a lot), or if I see someone on a cam show that I know personally and they do not know that I am watching (this also happens quite often). My absolute favorite thing is when someone accidentally leaves their camera on without knowing - this happens a lot when people fall asleep and it kills me every time in a comedic way and a perverted way.
I discovered the site when a fuck buddy turned friend sent me a link via Skype to a live show that was happening and posed the question, "Are you getting fucked on cam?". I opened the link and there it was: a rather burly white man taking the voluptuous ass of a skinny black guy - both of them sort of faceless as they were fucking on their stomachs. I was at first appalled and insulted by the typical "black guys all look alike" sentiment, but what took over in me was a feeling I would never forget. I was enraptured by this otherworldly front row seat to spectating sleaze. I watched for a long time as they fucked incessantly, and as luck would have it - a few months later I would find myself not only in the wake of this exhibitionists' talents, but having a new and even more vicarious story in participating in one of his shows as penned in an earlier post entitled We Are A Family Part III
- part of a series about a certain time in my sexual career where there was a variation of a new theme.
While that was my most thrilling adventure on the other side, I will focus on a few tales that exhibit why it is that this place is somewhat of an obsession for me now.
I am a writer. I live for the fortitude of story. It is my mission to read, to research, to study - and in order to create characters, it is imperative that I maintain a voyeuristic approach in much of what it is I do to be inspired. I remember my first assignment for my playwriting class at university was to secretly record a conversation and turn it into dialogue verbatim in order to get a sense of natural rhythm and cadence - but I'll save that story for another time. I will say it was an excellent exercise.
One of the first web cam shows that I remember vividly was an older man, perhaps in his early sixties. He had an oxymoronic face, that which could have been likable and resented all in the same glance like a high school principal, with botched pockmarked peach skin and crystal gray eyes to match what was left on his male pattern baldness curtained hair that framed the disarming elegance of his also silver rimmed spectacles. After a jarring exposition of injecting himself with a syringe full of God knows what, then suddenly his eyes augmented to the size of baseballs, his chest heaving and his mouth agape and uttering a slew of expletives and then the magical moment happened...
Behind him was a stationary butt plug and/or dildo the size of a traffic and/or safety cone - in a flash, he sat his naked decrepit body on it, impaling his asshole onto it - and with this, it could not be unseen.
As time went on, I noticed many patterns in the activities and rituals of these other worshippers. There were many men and women who were regulars, some of them just enjoying the disconnected connection with strangers through this broadcasting medium - and some who were a sort of lowly and not so humble version of a porn star, as the site affords the opportunity to make "real money" from broadcasting disguised as "tips" that are doled out voluntarily and at the request of the web cam performers in exchange for certain acts.
Per usual, one of my favorite parts of the process is judging and critiquing people - though again I do not so often login to the site, so I say nothing to them directly unless there is a certain magnificent situation in which I do present myself and begin to interact (forthcoming).
There are people who perform every weekend and it is great to follow their stories. There is a sweet older couple who turn on the camera on Friday and leave it on all weekend. Sometimes they fool around, sometimes they are just eating dinner, sometimes they communicate with their audience.
There are few regulars (I've counted 3 who are duly committed) who also start their cameras around the weekend and invite people over to come and fuck them on cam.
Another atrocious albeit fascinating show I saw was of a Berliner who is a huge fisting queen who seemingly got into trouble with one of his guests that was into heavy abuse. Sometimes it gets to the point where I don't know if I am an accomplice to a crime that could be committed right in front of my very eyes, and in that I get some sort of soap opera thrill, but when the envelope is pushed too far, I can't help but to keep looking like a bad car accident. I know that if something horrible happened I would do my best to alleviate the situation.
About two weeks ago I had my whole pastime setup, replete with the essentials that are usually an assortment of masturbating accoutrement, beverages, something to eat (usually ice cream or sweets), my cigarettes and an ashtray, and a story happened right in front of me that was better than anything I could have ever written myself...
|Okay, the mystery of the site name has now be expunged. |
It started off as something pretty typical that I've seen in real life but what was so special about this particular web cam show was that it did not start in the middle of the action which is so typical of a lot of these people, they get drunk or high and as their standards get lower along with their fading inhibitions, they run wild in the jungle of recklessness.
There were two guys - and one of them had turned on the camera and was having something like a pre-show, similar to that of a sporting event where they talk about stats and injuries and all that. "we start at 30 min" he typed to one of the hecklers already harassing him about his inexplicable wearing of clothes. Sure, he could have been more naked, but would that have had the same effect for what was to come later?
This whole story telling bit was a very traditional model for writing in general. There was plenty of portent that was part of the exposition as his fuck buddy friend made it out of the shower (in only a towel) and they started discussing the details of what they needed for their sex party that included the proper materials for fisting and choosing a porn that would be appropriate for the occasion. They had mentioned to the audience (separately and together as they were both approaching the computer to check out what kind of crowd they were drawing and to interact respectively) that there was a third member being added to the party and they were addressing the issue as to whether or not they would tell him that they would be recording live.
They disappeared for a few moments and you hear sounds of a certain other type of ritual, and at one point you hear the shower guy talking about how he had done 5 different drugs already and he was really horny.
The third guy showed up completely late (for intents and purposes I will tell you that the two hosts/fuck buddies were Greek and the guest was German) and then a farce ensued.
It was so juicy I literally almost popped a bag of popcorn, but I wasn't so hungry myself.
So "The German" arrives (the two boys started calling him this) and he causes a scene about who is going to do what and when, typical Teutonic bossiness - but he has some issues because he has to go and take 3 showers - THREE SHOWERS - and the two boys get really restless and start talking shit about him while he is in the bathroom. When he is finally finished cleaning his ass (hence the showers), they start to play a little bit and they ask him if he is okay with the cam show - of course it's fine with him and then they all leave the room for a few moments and all of a sudden the shower guy (the Greek one) is bent over the sofa with his fuck buddy's fist up his ass (who is still partially clothed for some reason) and The German is nowhere to be found.
Eventually we hear The German complaining about something, and talking about the porn (whose volume is turned up waaay too loud but isn't louder than the burly Greek with a fist up his hole, his fuck buddy idly throwing his arm up there whilst paying focused and dedicated attention to the porn that is playing) and then they stop and the burly guy leaves to go to the bathroom with The German.
The clothed guy comes on and talks to the audience for a while and reads the complaints that he still has his shirt on, but he is too out of it to care or do anything about it. He clicks on the page a few times, presumably checking his messages on other hookup sites and then he disappears off stage, sorry, off camera and then the three all return naked, roaming around and sloppily trying to fuck each other. The Greeks keep going for The German, but The German is very particular about what he wants (mind you, all three of these guys are completely hot and naked and hairy and horny) and then The German guy starts choking on one of the fuck buddy guys' dicks (I forget which one) and then you hear and kind of half see vomiting. The German starts puking.
THE GERMAN STARTS PUKING.
Cut to The Greek guys making fun of The German while The German is in the bathroom (again!) cleaning up. The Greek guys start playing again, more fisting and talking about the porn and then The German comes back and they tell him it's not working and he has to leave. The German agrees but proclaims, "I must cum and then I will go," so the two Greek guys attack The German, sucking on his nipples and sticking fingers in his ass and playing with his balls and The German cries out in orgasm and then he quickly dresses and exits. End scene.
I've gotten into the bad habit of just following along with these stories, and arguably, many of them are just as juicy as this one - even though I left a lot of details out.
Sometimes the fucking goes on way too long, and no matter how hot the scene is, like with regular porn, I don't want to see the same person for any longer than five minutes - it gets boring.
There are different categories that could be more specific, though the basic MALE, FEMALE, COUPLE, TRANNY sections are sufficient enough to get a gist of what you could or could not be looking for.
All of the freaky stuff takes place in the GERMANY category - which is where I find the most fun, not only in the kinky and unmentionable creative shit Germans come up with, but like I said before, I get a cheap thrill out of seeing someone online that I know personally and Berliners frequent the site.
There is a plethora of faceless dicks that come up - there is nothing that pisses me off more than this. While many of them will show their face in private chat or a Skype meeting (both of which I have done), the anonymity is kind of a boner killer. And it's always some guy in an office chair with his shirt on with a messy room in the background. I can't help but judge them more than I get turned on by them. Waste. Of. My. Time.
If there is something going on that excites me enough to break the fourth wall I find pleasure in that. I'll tell you of two instances.
The first involves one of my favorite type of show that happens quite often: The Slave Show.
The Slave Show is a very special event because it not only quenches my thirst for voyeurism but also for SM. The Slave Show is where a Master puts a Slave on cam and broadcasts the instruction, torture and training of the slave and many times the Master will ask for the audience to request that the Slave perform certain acts or that the audience humiliates the slave.
One show that I saw was nothing less than amazing. The slave had a dog mask on and was instructed to put clothespins on certain areas of his body (for barf factor, I will not say where and how many). In addition to this, he was to place a vibrating dildo up his ass and attach a vibrating dildo to his cock via duct tape. He also had to bondage himself (using quite intricate Japanese rope bondage techniques) that I cannot really elaborate on how thrilling it was to watch.
The Master masterfully went on a long set of instructions, every 4 or 5 sentences touting off how many people were watching the Slave being humiliated. I logged in immediately.
I started to add some verbal abuse to the show (as requested by the Master) and I was one of two people who decided to chime in though admittedly, I did a much better job at it. The other guy was asking for stupid shit.
So the show ended abruptly with the Slave crying out in pain and cumming and then removing the tape off of his penis and presenting it to the audience, "I've shed blood, Master..." he typed. "You must take care next time. Bye Slave,", and the show ended.
One of the worst parts about these shows is that they can end unexpectedly, whether it is a technical issue or what have you - but that can also be the thrill. You always can separate the true enthusiasts from the amateurs by the scene of the whole thing. I've learned in my stint of at home dirty movie making that there are several things that make for better amateur porn, but the good thing about amateur porn is that it can have great appeal when these aspects are ignored, so it's not to say one is better than the other. It's all about preferences.
I like to follow these rules:
1. Turn the music off.
Music has no place in porn, ever. This also goes for other audio sources. One of the best things about watching people in sexual acts is hearing what they say and hearing what they sound like. Many times people won't turn the sound on at all, and while this provides a great tease - it can be deafeningly annoying.
2. Turn on the lights.
Cameras are light boxes - while the mood may shift in the actual place of the act, a good show cannot be seen without light. The more light the better, as long as it is not reflected in the lens of the camera - that is a common mistake of people making movies at home.
3. Camera placement.
It can be really hot to see the frame bouncing up and down and then falling off the bed, but the angle means everything. Usually an above view of all the action is best, if you are up for the challenge (put the laptop or the webcam on a stack of books on a high dresser). Nothing is worse than a superimposed close-up of fucking (as often seen in professional porn) - the best view is to see everything that is happening. It takes a lot of talent and balance to do the POV shit, but some can pull it off - but different strokes for different folks. I think the look on the face is the best thing to see.
Now to wrap up these tales and tails with the best story that has come out of my affair with this website.
For as long as I can remember there has been my absolute favorite performer who is nothing more and nothing less than just that: A PERFORMER. All expected fodder about what he looks like aside (tall, bald, facial hair, hairy, impossibly Aryan), he is a textbook case of exhibitionist and perversion.
This German claims to be bisexual (as most of the broadcasters do mostly in part to enhance the size of their audience) and the first time he caught my eye I was hooked.
He usually shows up at an odd time on Saturday during the day or late Sunday afternoon and his shows are extremely short. Basically he has the camera set up above him and you can't really tell if he is at his home office or private office or work office but for the thrill of fantasy, I always pretend that he is at work.
There are filing cabinets, a table and a desk and a few office supplies strewn about, a bottle of nondescript lubricant (it looks like it could be hand lotion with the label ripped off and in it he added a special blend of household materials) and then there's the kicker: a plastic fucking device. That's all I can and will say about it.
He shows up for all of about 3 minutes (sometimes less but never more than that), completely nude, and he fucks this plastic thing. He passionately thrusts his rather impressive dick into this thing as though it is an art form. It is amazing. He holds it on the desk and varies the velocity of fuck and he holds it up and fucks it, every time he has a show someone asks what it is and he tells them in German (he reads English but only writes in German).
What is so special about this man is that he is a professional pervert and an elite pig. He knows where to put the camera, there is no music or other sounds in the room, and he even has a special desk lamp to make sure you can see very clearly what is going on. He intimately expresses his desire for fucking through this raggedy worn plastic hole that he...sorry, I don't have the adequate words to describe it.
He looks into the camera periodically, and he makes the most disgusting noises - taking a pause every once and again to type respond with two fingers on the keyboard to his adoring fans (none more adoring than me).
And then when he starts to wail and go faster and you think he's getting close, he cuts off. And he's gone.
But not forever!
For the past few months I've looked out for this guy. He is perfection. He's the kind of guy that probably doesn't own blinds or window treatments and probably hasn't worn underwear his whole life. He seems like the kind of guy who goes to nude beaches no problem and has masturbated in bathrooms all over the world and probably fingered someone or three in the back of a taxi. I imagine he has fuck buddies on speed dial who he has probably only spoken about a sentence or two in years of knowing them. He is the kind of guy that has a membership to a sex sauna club. He just looks like sex.
When he shows up, his shows are perfectly timed and they take you right to the edge.
I watch and I get hard, physically and mentally but I know that I can't wank because he's going to be gone in a few minutes.
When he comes back the second and third time, the vigor builds, but he never cums. That was until this past time I saw him...
I logged on immediately and decided today was the day
. I started chatting with him in broken German (thinking back on it I wish I would have copied the conversation) and after the usual question of "What is that you are fucking?" came out of some first timer's chat face, I took over and started telling him what a pig he was and how he was my favorite broadcaster on the whole site and that I've been secretly watching him for months. WELL -
Something changed just then. He did not sign off, he was not alarmed (sometimes both of these happen when I interfere with my abrasive announcement of my presence) but instead he started to furiously give me a full on sleaze show while the others looked on. We started chatting so fucking dirty and disgusting that I really starting stroking my dick and told him all about it - mind you - in German. I don't know where my German street slang bad dirty words vocabulary came from (well, actually I do) but I was spitting out all types of sentences pertaining to his cum load, his hot thick dick, and how his face was perfect for sitting on when he made those perverted looks into the camera. He responded back (in German) with the most perfect thing, something that could have only happened if I prayed to God that it could, paraphrased and translated it went something like this: "I fucked 4 of my friends this week and I want to cum again."
And then...and motherfucking then...I told him what a whore he was and how I loved it and then...
He popped a hole in the plastic fuck toy.
THE GERMAN FUCKED A HOLE IN HIS PLASTIC TOY.
!" I typed, as his fat bratwurst kept going and he looked into the camera with that face and I started typing (this time with a lot of typos) about what a horny pig he was and he was amazing and that I was wanking - and then he said - he told us - he told ME that he was going to cum. Could it be true????!!!
"Wir spritzen zussammen
!!!!" I typed.
I will never forget that accomplishment.
There is something about that plateau where fantasy meets reality. The only sad part is, you can't go back once that dream has been realized. I haven't seen the pig ever since.
I have my other Sunday rituals in Berlin. I go to the park in the gayborhood and make up stories about the people heavy footing it across the way - wondering where they were, what do they have to see and who they have to do and have already done.
I go to one of the only open supermarkets and I watch people stunted by the necessity for nourishment, some drowning in the heinous establishment of the munchies, others not yet understanding the fundamental process of eating yet, having spent the past days filling themselves with the fruits of amphetamines.
I'll also sign on to those websites to see the kind of absurd things people request of me, or to check on some of my friends to make sure they are still alive.
On special occasions, I might find the company of someone who needs one last ride on the slut town roller coaster, so I'll take myself to wherever they are and offer to navigate them to the world's darkest bar in every respect - and I hold their belongings (lots of pickpockets during the witching hours) as they make their way back to the doom that is Hell on Earth
as I watch all the characters and animals gallivanting in their natural habitat.
At a time where many years ago I would be in church, I now find myself feasting not on the blood and body of christ, but on the sights of Berlin Zombies who sit, stand and kneel at the most unimaginably provocative proclivities. I can't help but to have my inner monologue twist the words from my Catholic years around in my ears in a semantics pun, "Let us prey."
Sunday is also a great time to ride on the Ubahn, there are treasures of little known atrocities that can be read like tea leaves on the isolated and infrequent scattered faces on the train - as so many people make their way back to figuring out where their home might possibly be. They give it the old college try, dressed in their Sunday best, from other people's clothes, to what clothes of their own they could find in the blinding darkness to the schnellfckenhosen
that proclaims the truest sense of German efficiency (the typical Berliner schlampe
uniform of Adidas track pants, a tshirt and a jacket with utility pockets for sexcessories).
I much prefer the exterior view - from the outside looking in, for that Rabbit Hole is deep, vast, and bares the same reputable function as quicksand. But this is not to say that I am holier than thou; from time to time I find the Alice within and not so surefooted, I climb down into it too.