Vacation with my lord

I have always assumed that my master needs to have a good collection of bitches at his service and that, if he agreed to be with me, it was not because he needed to have a steady one. I know that the sexual pleasure I can give him is no different from what so many other younger slaves give him. Although it is true that being the oldest of his bitches adds an extra layer of humiliation to our relationship that he does not have with those other sluts who go jumping from master to master as if changing shirts.

I have always assumed it, and it has never been a problem for me; rather the opposite. Remaining by his side while watching so many fleeting slaves pass by, some for just a single fuck, made me feel proud of my usefulness. But I suppose that has led me to the place I have now reached, to the lowest level of humiliation one could reach.

My lord had booked a short vacation with me in the Canary Islands. He had chosen a small gay resort, where all the bungalows faced the shared pool area, where wearing a swimsuit was optional—an option none of the guests took during the days we stayed there. It also had a terrace with loungers and a couple of jacuzzis.

The bungalows had large glass windows and a small terrace with direct access to the pool; to have privacy you had to draw the curtains, something we did not do in the five days we stayed there, just as our respective bodies only wore clothes when we left the premises.

From the very first moment my lord hit it off with most of the guests, something that comes quite easily to him because of his athletic build, his youth, and his virility. I don’t think I’m exaggerating if I say he fucked more than half the guests in our hotel, and the occasional visitor who wasn’t staying there. He didn’t even spare the receptionist, who was already drooling over him while checking us in.

Unfortunately, I was not on that list of those sodomized by my lord. My tasks during those days were to provide beers, snacks, condoms, creams, and the sex toys he used with his casual lovers; to be the urinal for his pissings and those of some guests to whom he wanted to show the docility of his bitch; to be the decorative object of the bungalow, always with my penis caged, and whom he only allowed to lick some stranger’s cock while that stranger was being fucked by my lord.

The only cock that visited my ass on that vacation was that of the pool technician, who got hard from my ass and my caged cock. I must say that fuck was worth it because of the skill of my casual lord and the thrill of the clandestineness of doing it behind a scrawny hedge in the entrance garden.

In short, a few days in which my humiliation hit rock bottom and after which the only words I addressed to my lord were words of thanks for that vacation and the offer of my availability to repeat the experience when he told me how good a time we had had.