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Fickstutenmarkt Adventures

As regular Soxster readers will know, I’ve been to a few Fickstutenmarkt (horse fair) parties in Berlin. For those unfamiliar with the concept, these parties parties involve the mares (bottoms) arriving first and being hooded, before the stallions (tops) arrive to fuck them. The mares aren’t supposed to see the stallions, and it’s an extremely hot night. John read Joel’s experience at Fickstutenmarkt and decided to give it a go – and has written the following account. English isn’t his first language, but I thought it was best to present his write up as he submitted. Enjoy!

It was not until last January when I first learnt about the Fickstutenmarkt (FSM) event through some casual surf on the net searching things about a possible subsequent Berlin experience.  I was instantly at loss for words.  I’ve been in saunas and stuff before but this seemed to be so unique.  I spent a whole day searching for details, especially for thorough experienced descriptions of “mares”, just as this one will try to be, but to my great disappointment there were only a few available, one of which actually was Joel’s, one of Andrew’s boys, at this very site.  I read it calmly word by word and his feelings were so lively conveyed at each point of his course to the FSM point that nailed my whole being and I can say that it haunted me for some days as I was lively kept on putting myself in his shoes.  I even sent him a message revendicating a thread of information/conversation more personal.. he never answered back..

Yet, I was undaunted.  Or maybe not.  I was anxiously trying to put some sense into my thinking by reasoning with myself repeating monotonously that this is not suited for me at all, that I am way grown out of it anymore and so on.  In vain.  My mind was irreversibly captured by the scenes of the “not-seeing availability” and the “unlimited disposal” in such an extent that for days afterwards I insisted on trying to find my way to Leipzig or even Berlin.  At the same time I kept on antagonizing this plan by invoking every contrary possible argument available.  I can easily remember finding myself at this point when I was finally saying : “Ok, do whatever you want, you are not going anyway”.  One or two days later I had the ticket reservation.

Since Berlin seemed to demand more experienced attitudes, I aimed for Leipzig.  Leipzig 2nd July.  Summer in Leipzig.  Oooh, I could so imagine myself that day in Leipzig.  Endless sun, high temperatures (you see in Greece that very day it’s usually hot) and me walking from my living place to the Cocks club at 17:30 surrounded by dazzling light.  How intriguing!  Of course, I wanted to do it right.  Thus, having already gotten the ticket, I found an apartment in Berlin (I hate ho(s)tels, I want to feel like a local) and then I was still not pleased enough.  I wanted to take things at my pace in Leipzig so I made a reservation for an apartment in Leipzig too especially for this day.  All set.

While I was doing my reading on people’s various experiences as mares, it was fairly obvious that they were only concerned about one fact: whether they are going to score some/any stallions or not.  Everyone seemed pretty upset of possibly being a “null pointer”, which is very humiliating after all.  Not being chosen in such an event maybe is not a nice thing to confront.  I cannot argue.  Yet my problem was another one.  I never gave a damn about the fact of not being chosen to make a partner.  Who cares.  What made my head spin though was the possibility of something going wrong and getting an STD.  This was the big deal.  And this was the reason why I could not familiarize that easily with the idea of me being there.  Because this time, it was not going to be Greece, a small village matter, it’d be Germany, the “big bargain fair”.  I really felt a bit like an innocent boy from the provinces going to the big sly city or more like a sheep going to the slaughter house.  On the other hand, we are adults.  What the heck!  I calmed myself down by constantly saying that everything is going to be ok.  I’d certainly and by any means go with a white hood, so, there was nothing to be afraid of.  Anyway, even now, I should point out that this remains a game of chance.  As a part of my research I sent a message as well to a former “Mare of the month” that I found in the FSM’s web page expressing my eventual fears to him.  What he gave me as a response was : “It is not for pussies…”.  I think you get the context…

A few months then passed and the time has come.  I arrived in Berlin and then on Saturday 2nd July I took an early train to Leipzig.  For some time I was on a diet, I needed to lose some weight.  Being a “mare” is not an easy thing I must say.  As that guy Joel did, I also tend not to eat anything prior to such activities because by no means do I ever want to feel awkward before or during the sex procedure.  Leipzig’s Hauptbahnhof was then a nightmare.  Indefinite number of little shops and stalls with delicacies and treats were all around (German snacks, Indian food, fine sweets) making this intermittent compulsory fasting feel like hell whatsoever.  I hadn’t eaten for already 12 hours and there were 12 more to come without food as well!  I left the place hungry and disappointed to go and find my apartment.  The weather was a bit cloudy and cool.  I walked by the little streets of the centre of Leipzig, covered with stones and I started to recognize Joel’s description at each and every pace.  I even started to wonder if this or this one or maybe that one (guy) is going to be fucking me later that night.  I was strangely calm and kind of senseless.  I had no feelings at all.  I was doing things the one after the other as if I were programmed to.  

Before going to the apartment I realized I needed to spot my target.  Otto Schill str., No 10, right beside Norma’s mini market.  I had already checked the street view on the net so no surprise there at all.  Right across the street there was a typical German “Lukas” bakery with some young workers in uniforms having a relaxed chat with each other whom I craved so much to have them there later in the event.  Wishful thinking (?).  I can’t tell.  I never saw.

My apartment was a twenty minute walk away.  I passed through even more food shops to get there and after having given it a rest for a bit, I had the wrong idea of taking a walk around the suburbs of Leipzig.  It was right the point that things would start to turn.  It suddenly started raining.  I had neither suitable clothes nor even an umbrella along.  I had to return home.  I started feeling miserable.  So much for my imagining my experience between light and heat.  It all started to move between dark clouds and rain.  I visited a supermarket close by, I wanted to be ready for the night after the event and for my morning-to-come breakfast as well.  Then I locked myself up in the apartment waiting.  Everything was coming down on me.  Even that weird wooden stair – so typically German – of the building was making its own statement.  But I was not under a pressure of leaving.  I am not a quitter. I should go all the way.

I got fully prepared and I watched some movies on my cell phone while waiting.  At 17:20 when I finally left the house it was still raining.  Now, almost heavily raining.  I grabbed a magazine and put it on my head.  My summer Greek clothes and shoes looked ridiculously strange on me as I was walking the empty dark streets of Leipzig.  Gosh, I was so miserable!  And what’s more anxiety had started to take the hell over me. I arrived, surpassed the place, took a small walk to a little square a few meters away just to let steam go off and came back stronger.  There was no one around and I walked in the little alley that lies beside Norma’s mini market.  This little open passage guides you to take a small turn to the right in order to find yourself to the door of the club.  At the entrance there was no one.  There was only an announcement board with the next FSM dates programme around Germany on it.

There was only a dark stair to the right going upstairs.  Now I was like a robot.  You must know this sentiment when you feel so anxious of something yet to come that you just make your moves as a central automated mechanism.  I climbed up and there was a bar space with cages-like decoration and a guy there waiting.  He murmured something in German.  “For the Fickstutenmarkt?”…”….as a mare”.  I said  “Yes” and I nodded with some kind of disbelief.  I gave him a twenty.  He passed me the change at which I stared with a puzzling indifference and slowly slipped them in my pocket (actually it costs 11 €).  There were a couple of guys totally naked waiting at the bar area.  The barman was there at his place.  The guy at the door now asked “Red or white hood?”, I said quietly “White” and then he gave me a plastic sheet of paper with the terms of the event to run through.  I sat and made myself read it or so I pretended, because I almost knew everything by heart.  Then he pointed to another guy, they exchanged some German words and the second one guided me through the “play” area at the other side of it, which was a fully lighted room with one prison cage aside.  There were another two guys there waiting for mares to prepare.  They didn’t speak English at all.  One told me in German to take off my clothes and stuff and give everything to him.  I was smart enough to have a backpack bag with me having my “event athletic shoes” in it, which I took out and put my clothes in.   I was left completely naked and wore the shoes. Then I gave the bag to the staff guy which he put in a big plastic bag.  The other guy took a black pen turned me around and wrote a number on my shoulders.  At the same time the first guy passed a paper bracelet on my wrist with my number.  38.  I was now number 38.  They showed me the way to the play area but I was left the white hood on my hands which felt a bit weird so I tried to ask them if I could leave it somewhere around for the moment.  They didn’t understand at all and they started agonizingly with gestures explaining to me what the use of it should be.  I sighed with despair and thought “Why am I doing this?”.  Finally, we managed to communicate and they made me understand that I should carry it with me all along.  There was no binding of hands throughout the whole event whatsoever.

At this point I want to say a few things about the staff.  In numerous comments I read, I found people specially thanking the staff for their kind contribution etc.  For me the staff incarnated in all what someone might say the “German hospitality”.  Which is actually a joke, an oxymoron.  But, I shouldn’t be that decisive (or say severe) on that.  There was at least one guy, the one who spoke English, who was very kind.  Generally, I can’t say I was thrilled by the staff’s handling.  They were a bit abrupt, a bit too in a hurry, they didn’t care enough to understand.  I don’t know.  They made me feel that they have passed this to the routine zone a long time ago.  The preparation procedure also was a bit too rushed.  I had imagined it having more of a ritual character, but I was frustrated.  It is important for the mares to feel the humiliation of their marking and getting naked to offer themselves to the stallions. 

The play area was a typical one.  Dark, with narrow inner – like small rooms – spaces (cubicals), rectangular wall indents, slings, one or two benches and a small room with a vault leaning against the wall.  It was like a labyrinth.  At least ten guys were there already having “marked” their spots, which of course were the more convenient ones.  I knew that picking up the right spot is crucial but I didn’t care that much.  I was aiming low.  I thought that I could use a spot near the centre of the action where at least I could listen to all others getting busy.  I was moving to and fro without being able to decide what’d be the best for me.  Half an hour must have already passed.  Then I saw a tall German guy going in one of those small rooms and lying down on a small mattress which was there.  I took the small room right next to him hoping that he should normally have a lot of action involved so I’d be able to have some fun myself listening.  At the same time we were near some other guys who I figured could make the centre of interest.  The only thing was that I couldn’t see myself getting laid in there because that small room of mine looked quite filthy and appalling. 

It must have been now 15-20 guys waiting.  I have to say that I was among the youngest at my 40.  They were all 38 – 55, which was encouraging.  I could not say at all that they seemed bad looking, some of them had nice bodies.  Hairless and white skinned quite a long way away from my personal taste but I can tell that most people like this kind of stuff.  At this point the deck-helpers started helping people to fix their hoods.  I can safely say that I didn’t see anyone having a red hood and I am happy for that now since I suspect it would make my blood freeze back then.  I asked a helper to tell me the time and he said it was already seven.  It seemed a bit weird having us prepared so early.  From what I had read so far from 7 till 8 the stallions would gather and at 8 o’clock sharp the party would start.  What was actually the point of us waiting blind for an hour or so?  I saw everyone before me getting his hood on the head which was really a breath taking procedure I must say.  On the other hand, asking not to put mine yet crossed my mind, but the staff from the beginning was so messy and strict that I abandoned the idea and saw that I’d sooner do whatever they had planned for me.

The kind deck-helper who spoke English came to me and the picture of all the other guys around being blind and standing still or bent is live in my mind till now.  I confessed while he was straightening up the ribbons of the hood that I was anxious and I asked him in a serious tone if I were safe after all.  He calmly answered that everything was ok, that I should always check myself the stallion’s condom and that I was not obliged to give a blow-job to someone (I asked him that last one too).  He fixed the hood on my head, I stood still on the entrance of my little space room which was toooo narrow so my shoulders blocked all the way and started waiting – God knows what – because I still could not figure out what was going on.  I kept on believing that there was something like still one hour until the event commenced.  There was a music playing rather loud so I could not properly make out what was going on.  I could hear steps coming to and fro but I guessed it was the helpers.

There was silence only for like one minute or two.  Then the steps got denser and I remember I smelt a perfume and I could feel the air of people passing by.  My head was a mess.  Like WTF?  Are these still the helpers or it has all started?  Before thinking more I felt a hand touching my nipple and then my ass and then heading straight for my asshole.  A guy made me come to his nipple and lick it and I was completely lost.  Joel in his own description referred to a guy that tried to give him a blow-job and he realized that it was another mare (!), the mare that was lying before next to him.  This actual thought crossed like an electric wave my mind and I instinctively put my hand onto the guy’s head to check if there was a hood somewhere round there because to tell the truth the idea of another mare playing with me around didn’t strike as pleasing at all!  Yet there was no hood.  What the hell then?  Who was that guy?  Maybe someone from the helpers?  In another guy’s description a helper had revealed to him in the end that he had fucked him too!  I was at loss for words and thoughts.  From the other mares around there was still silence.  The guy made me bend a bit and take his dick into my mouth.  This is the sad truth.  You can’t easily say no to blow-jobs.  The facts are leading you on their own.  Of course I was bit stiff and unwilling to continue that.

I also had to face the truth.  The event had already started.  This was the explanation.  They wouldn’t wait until it’s 8.00.  At 7.20 (as I could calculate) it was already a fact.  And I had already been touched!  It seemed like a record.  Yet the guy left.  And I remained on my feet waiting.  I could now clearly feel people moving around.  The music was loud enough to give on my nerves because I wasn’t able to listen to other sounds well.  I started to hear screaming though.  I didn’t know what to think first.  Thousands of thoughts came to my mind all at the same time.  Above all I was pretty pissed to have practically missed a decent start because I wasn’t aware of what was actually happening.  Maybe another hand touched me, my nipple.  I think I heard the guy next door screaming.  I wasn’t sure.  For the guys a little bit further I could not tell a thing, there was no connection.  I heard some fuck banging quite far away.

I don’t know how much time passed like that, it seemed to be ten minutes.  Then I felt a hand taking me inside and trying to make me bend.  It was the guy that touched me at the beginning. It felt again like him.  I had to bend but it was not convenient at all because the wall was even further inside and I didn’t want to put my hands on it.  What a fool!  At no time I was already at all four on the mattress and the guy was trying to put his dick in my ass.  I screamed, it was tough.  He took into consideration that he was my first one so he pulled a bit back and came again.  He was in.  And I was going crazy.  I was in deep pain and I caught myself wanting everyone else to know.  So my screaming grew bigger and it was like hard gasping.  I couldn’t really help it.  I was just reacting to natural causes.  The guy started fucking me.  I can recall of him trying desperately to find his way of making this convenient for both of us, but the darned room was small.  I had no idea what his plan for me was.  Everyone mentioned that each session should last something like three minutes because all stallions want to have as many intercourses as they can.  This dude though was fucking me on and on.  I was in my role.  I felt great.  I enjoyed his dick and I started talking, saying things like “That’s my boy, that’s my guy.  That’s my German guy”.  At the same time now I had my head banging against the wooden wall and I didn’t mind it at all.  I really can’t tell how long this lasted, but it was good.  And it actually felt safe because I had listened to him putting his condom on and I had personally checked it.  Finally he said something like “All right thanks” and he left.  I think he was fucking me for a quarter of an hour or more.  He was very fond of my hair because he was constantly touching it down my ass and on the chest.  I was happy that he had enjoyed me.  

Then I totally lost track of time and facts.  It was too soon to lose it, I know, but that’s what happened.  I believe another guy came and made me bend and started fucking me.  My feet were killing me because they had to support all of my weight plus the banging of his body.  Soon I fell at all four helpless.  I can’t be sure of what happened next, I can’t remember well.  He must have continued fucking a bit more and then left.  The weird thing was that I felt him as if he were the first guy.  They seemed to be the same person.  This very fact got me distracted and I can’t properly recall the incident now.  I stood up waiting.  People kept on passing by.

I don’t know how much time passed like this.  The only new thing was that my hood was loose from my head’s banging against the wall and now I could hardly see the ground and some feet walking.  A helper came and fixed my hood.  But in a few minutes there it was loose again.  Standing up in front of my cubicle’s entrance made me calm again.  An hour or a bit more from the very beginning must have already passed.  I was again lost in thoughts when I realized that a hand now was taking me to a short walk.  It was the guy that fucked me first again.  I could tell in a sec!  He was now guiding me to a place where he could fuck me with comfort.  Indeed, it was like a bed with a mattress.  He helped me climb at all four and started fucking me doggy style.  To be honest I can’t recall how I reacted.  A bit later he turned me and spread my feet in the air and started fucking me again.  I was helpless.  I had made sure that he had a new condom on so I didn’t care much.  He was playing again with my hair.  At some point he got out and the funny thing is that I remained as I was, like a play toy, waiting for him to carry on at his own preference.  I could not see a thing by that moment so I was completely at his disposal.  I soon felt that he was playing with his dick, it was his time to cum.  I was left there with my legs up and open not knowing what was going on.  Of course I didn’t want his cum anywhere round my asshole so I put my hand on protecting it and my eyes were protected by the hood.  Thus I patiently waited for him to cum.  When this happened he made me stand up again and led me back to my initial spot.

It was time for me to have a break.  I called for a helper but that was not easy at all.  I just started shouting (hell awkward, trust me!) and after a short while someone came to fend for me.  The one helper shouted loudly to the other “Taxi”, so from some point onwards this was the only thing you could hear.  “Taxi” was actually the helper that should lead the poor mare to the toilet.  

My taxi took me there and I asked if there was some water available.  I wanted to clean myself from that guy’s cum.  The helper of course couldn’t understand and he was asking if I wanted to pea (!), but I finally had my own way.  I was pretty a mess though.  I wanted to put a bit of a hand soap down my whole to clean it, but I didn’t realize (not until it was too late) that I used for this reason the disinfectant, the alcoholic disinfectant (!) solution, which I mistook for the soap.  I started screaming silently though as my ass was burning and I came on thinking that I was really in trouble.  On the other hand I didn’t want to leave.  I put some water on, I calmed myself a bit and went all the way back to start anew.

By returning back something was different.  The crowd was already significantly reduced.  WTF I thought.  Have they already left?  That’s all?  I stood up there but nothing was happening.  Some stallions were circling around but they were ignoring me.  Of course now I could see down the ground and their feet but this wasn’t altering anything at all.  I decided on entering my room and bend there waiting.  I had read in someone’s description that it should be better for the mare not just bend waiting because after all all asses look like the same.  He suggested that one should stand up or just wait sitting because in doing so he can show his face.  Wrong!  I say now that if you want to get fucked, you must assume a position that could be as convenient as possible for your fucker.  He will fuck you more easily if he doesn’t need to put any more effort other than the least demanded for your banging. 

Remaining bent of course was a killer.  I got back standing up and then I was off, on bending again.  In doing so another guy came, made me take his dick in the mouth, put then a condom on his dick, made me bend and put his dick right in my ass.  It was a thick dick, not that nice one.  I know because the hood now was so loose that I could see down my eyes with some difficulty.  He started banging me but very soon my feet couldn’t stand it anymore and I had to drop myself on my knees.  Unfortunately this guy was not that patient, so he continued fucking me for a minute or so and then he left.  It was the typical three minute session!

The event was close at its end.  People circling around were already scarce. It was a mystery to me.  We were hardly two hours away from the starting point.  Though, I refused to leave.  I kept on taking turns between bending and standing up but the spot I was left at, had already tired me.  I wanted to change.  I called for help.  The deck-helper thought that I wanted to go and asked me in a weird accent “Finish?”.  “No”, I answered, “can you take me to another spot? Somewhere in the front..”  I had already realized that enough of the mares had gone as well.  Indeed, he took me to the front, where there was a bench kind of like a bed.  He helped me climb on and I stayed there at all four.

Oooooh, that was so relieving.  I was so tired standing up and bending. It felt so nice being on my knees and hands.  Quite a few minutes passed like this.  Maybe ten, maybe more.  I started losing my hope.  I didn’t want to leave like that.  I am generally an anxious person, I can’t easily concentrate when I am in front of other people.  That’s why it’s not a plain thing for me to get properly aroused under these circumstances.  In fact, I needed all this as a nice preparation to get started… but it felt it was already over…

At this moment I was at all four waiting with my head being practically upside down.  The hood being loose enough was falling down and I was able to see right under my feet up to a certain level.  That is I could see someone coming but only up to his waist, not any higher.  It was hopeless though.  There was no moving and passing by any more.  I was deeply disappointed.  I desperately wanted some dick more.

And then, completely out of the blue, came a guy and stood behind me. I don’t know if I can ever get to forget this picture.  At seeing the thickness of his pretty much ready-to-fuck dick my mind got lost.  I instantly straightened up my body getting it prepared to take the dick.  Luckily enough, he didn’t realize that I had already taken notice of him being there as he was preparing his condom.  He left a bit and went to bring some lubricant.  I thought I lost him and I was ready to burst in tears.  He came back.  He stood right behind me again and put the lube on my hole.

I took his dick in a second.  It felt perfectly having it inside of me.  Finally it was my time.  I felt loose enough myself now, completely ready to enjoy.  He started fucking me real good.  We had a perfect match.  I began speaking again “that’s my guy” and so on.  To be honest, it felt being again the guy that fucked me in the first place.  But now this couldn’t count much.  My dick was at last hard.  The guy seemed unstoppable.  He was working my ass so attentively.  I left my asshole open wide and I had a first orgasm by letting subtle screams go.  He didn’t seem to matter.  He continued on and on. My mind now was lingering crazy.  I was at his mercy.  He banged me on and on.  I had no other choice but to cum again.  My second orgasm was a fact.  He didn’t seem to matter even so.  And there I was, taking a ruthless thick dick, without knowing how to end this as I was quickly approaching my limits.  My ass started to pain and I instinctively moved my body more and more away of his.  I even started to complain in Greek in order to discourage him.  It was no use.  It was infinite.  He was magic.  He had a stable rhythm fucking which was making him a star-fucker.  In the end he stopped.  As I was convinced that he was the guy that first fucked me, took some time to strengthen and returned I asked him laughing: “How many time did you fuck me?”.  He didn’t understand.  He thought I was asking for how long was he fucking me already, so he kept answering 20 minutes. He started fucking me again.  It was great.  But I couldn’t have it any more.  I just couldn’t.  He got out.  At last he understood the question and said : “No, this is the first time”.  “You haven’t fucked me before, are you sure?”  “Yes!”  Then he wanted to know where I was from and I asked him if he was a German.  He said yes.  Unfortunately, he asked me to give him a blow-job but having already taken two dicks on my mouth I thought I didn’t want any third one, so I asked him to put on a condom.  He said that he had to go and find one but there was not any more time available since everybody else had just gone.  Sadly enough, whilst he was the one to give me all the pleasure, I refused in my way to repay him and I am very sorry I must admit for that.  He left and we didn’t have the chance to say something more.  Exactly right afterwards a helper found me and announced “Ok, now finish”.  He took me back to the changing room.  My head was ready to burst.

When I got out, there was strangely enough some daylight on.  The rain had stopped.  I took a glance at my phone and it said 21:48.  It lasted hardly three hours.  I was hungry as hell.  I was walking yelling in the empty street and I can remember myself banging my head with my hand.  It was unbelievable.  Up on a balcony a crowd was gathered for some reason.  I didn’t know where I was going and I didn’t know what to do.  I was like under drugs.  I finally remembered that there was an Austrian fest a few meters away, at the Leipzig Markt square.  I took my way there and as I was walking in the streets of the old town, I realized why there were no people left in the FSM.  The Italy – Germany match for the EURO was on and trust me the whole Germany was in front of the TV sets everywhere.  The wine fest was rather empty and I sat on a bench enjoying a Schnitzel with spaetzle, potatoes and mushrooms while Germany was getting upside down with shouting and chanting at each hot scene of the game.

I needed some time to redefine what had actually happened.  I am still not sure of what to think.  I only know that Germans are unique.  All this restriction, not being able to see or to have a say on what’s happening to you… Trust me they know.  They are certainly the only ones who have mastered how to turn a crime into living art..

2 Comments

  1. Hello:
    Could you explain the difference between wearing a white hood and wearing a red hood at the Fickstutenmarkt?

    Thank you

    • A red hood is for boys who are prepared to be fucked raw. A white hood is for boys who want a condom used. Stallions can fuck a red hood with a condom but sex with a white hood must be safe.