Pride in chastity 3rd

Dawn breaks in Maspalomas. You’ve slept only a few hours, but you have to make the most of your stay in this Canarian paradise.

The sun warms the dunes and the sea is calm, a bright blue stretching as far as the eye can see. You walk down the avenue, enter the hotel passageway, and come out at the incredible viewpoint over the dunes. You will never get tired of that landscape that brings back so many memories.

It is time to walk toward the beach, you in flip-flops, a loose white swimsuit that leaves little to the imagination, and Adrián wearing a tiny brief that barely covers his lovely little buttocks; the metal cage is clearly visible in his bulge, a backpack hanging from his shoulder and the collar with the padlock around his neck.

The beach, which you reach after crossing the dunes, is already beginning to fill with bodies in the sun: men lying on their backs, voyeurs strolling, the occasional group gathered around an exhibitionist couple. Eyes settle on your slave as you pass — a wiry, small blond with pale skin beside a square-built black giant of 1.90 draws a lot of attention. He walks two steps behind you, head lowered but steady.

You reach a spot near the sun loungers, spread the large towel on the sand, and sit down, propping yourself on your elbows.

“On your knees here, in front of me, facing the sea. And take off your swimsuit. I want everyone who passes to get a good look at that cage.”

Adrián obeys, stripping off his tiny garment, sinking his knees into the hot sand, his hands resting on his thighs, his chest slightly pushed out. The sunlight bounces off the metal. A couple of older men who were walking stop, sit down a few meters away, and watch you without hiding it.

You know how important this is for him; it is the first time he has shown himself caged in a public area where people of all sexual orientations are passing along the shore. He has stepped out of the comfort zone of the scene, and it is difficult to accept his condition. Still, he has not hesitated for a second, and you can see in his eyes how excited he is.

One of the two mature men, a slim man of about sixty, gray-haired, approaches. He has the tan of someone who spends hours in the sun and is in pretty good shape. He is completely naked and shows a small, shrunken cock. He looks at you, then at Adrián, and smiles smugly.

“Nice morning to walk the dog.”

“That’s right,” you answer.

The man crouches in front of Adrián without touching him. He studies the cage, the ring on his neck. “Does he let you touch him?”

“Ask him.”

Adrián raises his eyes. “My Master decides who touches me, sir.”

The gray-haired man looks at you, waiting for your answer.

“No.”

The gray-haired man freezes with his hand halfway there, arches an eyebrow, but accepts the refusal without arguing. He stands up, gives you a...