We take a walk to the bar

"Alright, now c'mon, pet," Becky says, tugging on the leash as she starts walking away. "Don't forget we're going to the beach bar!"

"W-wait, Becky!" I start to protest, alarmed that other beach-goers were going to see me in this state.

"Don't worry," Susan says, patting my shoulder. "Looks like most people have already left. You got lucky, John."

"It's not John, Susan!" Becky chastises her, hands on her hips. "He's our pet now! Are you guys coming?"

"You go ahead," Samantha says, sitting down on the beach mat, with Susan joining her. "We're gonna chill for a while."

"Suit yourself," Becky shrugs, and with one hand still tugging on my leash, she leads me out to walk along the shoreline near the sea.

The waves lap at our feet as we stroll along the empty beach. I'm surprised at how empty it's quickly become, but also extremely grateful.

"You know John," Becky says, turning to face me while walking backwards. "I honestly didn't expect you to get hard again. Be honest: do you find this kinky? Do you like it?"

I blush, embarrassed to admit one of my deepest, most private kinks. But I find the courage to give a small nod.

Becky smiles; not a cocky or proud smile, but a sincere, honest, and caring smile. "That's good to hear, John. Honestly, I wouldn't want to do this if you were hating it. But I'm glad you're not. Thanks for trusting me!"

Becky gives my erect cock a teasing squeeze before turning back to walk forward properly again. "There's the bar!" She says, pointing ahead.