Pride in chastity

The resort in Maspalomas is packed with rainbow flags when you arrive; it’s the 25th anniversary of Pride and you wanted your new young dog to experience the event. A whitish mansion with palm trees and an infinity pool that melts into the sunset. Your slave, whose name is Adrián, is wearing the black leather harness you bought him, clearly visible and marking his toned chest, and a thick metal collar with a padlock hanging from it, clearly highlighting his condition. Your 1.90 meters looks imposing next to his barely 1.70, and your 50 years contrast with your boy’s barely 20.

They give you the key to the suite; you can appreciate the admiring look from the receptionist, a handsome mulatto who openly checks out your bulging package. At a gesture from him, a Latino bellboy picks up your suitcase and accompanies you to the bungalow.

As soon as you enter, Adrián takes the suitcases from the bellboy and puts them on the bed to unpack them; he knows what his obligation is. His fibrous back bends as he puts your things into the built-in wardrobe. When he turns and kneels on the cold marble, his blue eyes seek yours with that mix of submission and desire you like so much. His tight ass is clad in a leather thong peeking out from under the mini shorts; the blond of his hair shines under the warm light of the suite. You turn and dismiss the bellboy with a generous tip; he sports a scandalous erection in his bulging trousers.

You take off your white shirt, revealing your defined ebony torso, the sweat from the journey shining on your pecs. You approach Adrián, grab his chin and lift his face so he looks at you.

“Tonight is the first day of Pride. We’re going down to the pool first. But when we’re out there, don’t look me in the eye, don’t speak unless I ask you, and if someone touches you, you smile and endure it. Understood?”

“Understood, Master,” he whispers, his voice trembling but firm.

You go down to the pool when the sun is already setting. The resort is full: men of every body type, age and color, some with colorful drinks in hand, others already in the water, the music playing at a volume that pounds in your chest.

You sit on a lounger, legs spread, the tight black swimsuit marking the bulge you already know is heavy, 23 cm when fully hard. Adrián remains standing beside you, submissive, hands crossed behind his back. Several glances settle on him—a fibrous, small blond in a leather thong; through the thong the cage is perfectly visible. For a week now you have convinced him to wear it permanently and you know that is driving him crazy and making him increasingly submissive.

A dark-haired guy with a mustache approaches. “What a jewel you have there. Is he for rent?”

“He only obeys, he isn’t for rent,” you answer without looking at him, sipping your drink.

The dark-haired man smiles and, without asking permission, grabs one o...