(7) Saturday. Morning songs.

Listening to: How Deep Is Your Love - Bee Gees -1977

Conchita and Xumina hurried to attend to their master Roberto. Don Andrés had fallen asleep and was snoring. Conchita knelt by the wall and her master forced her mouth. Meanwhile, Xumina made an effort to satisfy from behind, licking the bastard from the asshole to the balls. Something went wrong with Conchita's blowjob, because her master started screaming and beating her savagely. - ”He's going to kill her!!” I whispered to my boss. He reassured me: - ”It's the same drama every time we go out, don't worry... The worst he can do is give her a couple of bruises, and she enjoys that. Anyway, we're going to the hotel, I'm tired.”

He linked the collar with the leash, picked up the whip and we discreetly left the room. Upon arriving at the locker room, the attendant provided us with soap and towels and opened the door to the shower room. What a pleasure, when my master and I, soaped up under the hot water, tenderly embraced and intertwined our tongues in a wet kiss!! - ”Sir, I get hard and then my dick hurts a lot...” - ”Haha, wait, I'll let you go for a moment so you can clean yourself well. But don't you dare to cum, baby, I'm warning you!!”.

The key to the cage hung from the gold chain (with the medallion of the Virgen del Carmen) that he wore around his neck. He released my little bird that, thankful, expanded in agreement. I cleaned myself quickly to avoid further arousal. But when it was time to put the cage back on, things got complicated because of the uncontrollable growth of my little bird. - ”This has an easy solution, Chochi!” - said my boss and, stepping away from under the shower stream, manipulated the tap to get a good cold water shower. My whole body contracted in an intense cold spasm. - ”Problem solved, darling, now let's put that little worm back in place!!”. And so it was. Everything in its place, we got dressed and went out into the street. It was almost dawn.

We arrived at the hotel by taxi. Don Carlos ordered breakfast in the room, with toast, a decaf for him and a bowl of warm milk “for the girl”. As we had breakfast, the conversation became relaxed, easy, full of small confidences and good humor. I dared to ask him about the issue that had been bothering me for a few hours.

- ”Master, do you appreciate me? Do you feel something for me?”. Don Carlos took a minute to answer. He ran his hand over his forehead, concentrating on the response.

- ”First of all, baby, thank you for calling me master. It's the first time you do it and that reveals that you have accepted your belonging, your place in this relationship. Second, of course I have a great affection for you. Since we met on that dating app, you haven't stopped impressing me and seducing me. I could have a much prettier and smarter fag than you, but I wouldn't have your loyalty, your discretion, your dedication... I feel a great tenderness for you”.

- ”Then, master, why do you enjoy when you mistreat me?. I could be your submissive and compliant girl and you my alpha male, without the need for cages, spankings or cold showers, but I have seen your face of excitement when those things happen, especially when Don Andrés has violated me”.

- ”Those things excite me because they show that you submit, that you sacrifice yourself for me. I have issues to settle with Don Andrés, and when I saw him fucking you, I wanted to beat him up. But I felt your suffering and I came with pleasure, I loved you even more then. The same happens when you accept the cage, the spankings, or the humiliations, all that confirms to me that you are mine. And it turns me on a lot”.

- ”And you are right: I am completely yours”.

- ”Well then let's celebrate it, slut, and let's not waste any more time!!”.

He undresses me completely and orders me to undress him, starting with the shoes. On my knees before my master, I carefully remove his black loafers, pants, boxers. I take the opportunity to kiss his blessed feet, his blessed balls, and his blessed cock. Then he helps me up to take off his shirt. All his clothes are impregnated with sweat and smell of man. To my man.

So far, I have not described my man. My screw. I only spoke of his genitals, but a man is much more than his genitals. He's around 50 years old, black hair with graying, tan skin, weathered as if from working in the fields, curly black beard, around six feet tall. Without having an athletic body, not even defined, he exudes strength from every angle. Hairy torso, broad shoulders. Powerful arms, cyclist's legs. Size 45 feet, with long toes and always very clean nails.

He grabs my face with his titan hands, kisses me passionately, and throws me on the bed. His woman, his slut, his pig, and his screw, is ready to please him...