JustFor.Fans/ZackDeclan
Punishment.
Yesterday made it painfully clear why Sir Declan set this sentence, being moody for being cucked while he had a weekend date wasn’t acceptable, and he decided I needed to learn the lesson properly.
JustFor.Fans/ZackDeclan
Day one started with paddles and 4½ hours locked in my jail cell. I was sore, humiliated, and already missing him which is exactly the point.
When he came home from the gym yesterday he didn’t say much. He had me put my hands through the bars of the cage and the cold metal cuffs clicked shut around my wrists. The cuff chain tightened so I couldn’t pull back. Then he latched shackles on my ankles to the cage so I was forced to stand there, exposed and completely immobilized. He pulled my shorts down, and every strike of the paddle landed with a loud slap and a burning sting that worked its way into my thighs and ass. Between hits he would whisper that he loved me and that this was necessary for us to be right, that the pain was part correction and part care.
When the paddling stopped he unfastened the cuffs, ordered me to strip, and shoved me back into the cell naked. The door slammed and the lock turned. I sat on the cold floor with my hands over my chest, breathing in the quiet, feeling the afterburn of each hit and the shame that came with it.
Four hours later he came back. The click of his keys felt like a mercy. He opened the cell and let me come sit on the floor in front of him while he relaxed on the couch. He put his hands on my shoulders and worked out the knots with firm presses. Every so often he’d kiss the top of my head like I was a child he both owned and wanted to protect. We turned on The Simpsons, a small, ridiculous bit of normalcy and the contrast between the tenderness and what I’d just been through made me ache to be better for him.
When it was time for bed I was allowed to sleep with him, but mercy didn’t mean freedom. Sir was hard and told me to work on his cock. I climbed on top and obeyed. His skin was warm against my mouth, his fingers tangled in my hair, and he kept my head down until he emptied himself, hard and hot down my throat. He didn’t let me pull away; he made sure I swallowed every last drop. Afterward he murmured, “Good boy, you didn’t gag this time. Okay, now bed time.” Praise that stung almost as much as the paddles, because it reminded me I’d passed another test.
I expect tonight when I come home from work I’ll be greeted at the door with handcuffs again, escorted straight to the bedroom for more paddles, and returned to my cell to continue the sentence. I don’t like the discipline, but I understand it. I appreciate his guidance, his corrections, and his love, even when it’s rough. I will keep working to be the submissive he wants, to obey, and to earn those small, private moments of tenderness.
Zack
(Owned by Sir Declan)
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