The good master

I think it's too obvious how much of a bitch I am. Otherwise, there is no explanation for how I attract males when I'm not even aware that I'm flirting. And that's even though my physique only attracts chubby, passive, mature bear lovers. Although this significantly reduces the percentage of interested males, I still allow myself the luxury of choosing, as I like the master I surrender to be younger than me; if possible, much younger. I love having a master 30 years younger than me. Naturally, this greatly narrows down the candidates to kneel before, but it also means that when it happens, I submit to them with reverence.

One of my revered masters was Carlos, although I obviously never called him by his name. A young, strong male, around 27 years old, dark-skinned and with a cock capable of making me comply with all his kinks, despite not coinciding with mine. I am certainly addicted to cocks and one like the one my sir had made me accept any humiliation he wanted to inflict on me.

He lived in another city so our encounters were on weekends, when I was at his exclusive service. When we were together, my main mission was to ensure that he did absolutely nothing that he didn't feel like doing; I took care of all the household chores, attended to him, served him, and any guests he might have. I obeyed all his decisions, I had no capacity to decide anything, not even regarding myself. He told me where our weekend encounters would be, what time I had to arrive, what I should wear (including plugs, ben wa balls, jockstraps...), if I should buy food or drink on the way, when we would leave the house, when I would stay there... everything. Even during the week, he would send me WhatsApp messages giving me instructions on the clothes and accessories I should wear to work, or what times I should be available online to attend to him.

He enjoyed humiliation, so he made me be naked at friend gatherings or in some public spaces. With him, I experienced for the first time what it was like to wear a chastity cage on my penis, which he liked to display me in nudist beaches or similar public places. At friend gatherings, some also brought their slaves who, like me, had to remain naked and with their cages visible. I was usually the oldest at these gatherings so I was not only the favorite target for the humiliations of all the masters present, but also for their dogs. Let's just say I was the bitch of bitches and it was rare for a night to end without me being pissed on, cummed on, spanked, insulted, and fucked by many of the attendees. My master loved it when all of that was done to me by the other dogs, so at each of these gatherings I ended up covered in fluids that I couldn't clean without his explicit authorization, something I never received until hours later.

He was also the first one I had to drink his piss in public; he filled a pitcher with his urine in a Torremolinos gay bar and made me drink it in front of everyone. In this regard, he was very strict, anyone he authorized could piss on me and breed me, at home or in bars; but the only piss and cum I could swallow was his.

Fucking me or making me suck his cock anywhere was commonplace, he needed to unload several times a day and my mission was to ensure not a single drop of his cum was wasted. I preferred doing it at home, but when he felt the urge to unload, there was no option; that's how I experienced it in cars, public bathrooms, dark rooms, olive groves in the countryside, dark streets, and of course, beaches.

The way he treated me in intimacy was what I liked the most. He was a demanding and tough master, to whom I couldn't deny anything and who never used what we could call a "affectionate" phrase with me. Even so, he treated me well at all times and knew how to balance moments of harshness with moments of rest. I think he was pleased with me. I, who adored him, always tried to show it, even in the moments when it was hardest for me to follow his orders. I accepted any humiliation of his just to have the chance of feeling his cock inside me again, and he made me not care about anything because the reward was worth it. Although he never told me, I think he was happy with me. At least until the day other dogs appeared and slowly stopped calling me.