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📸 Full pics + 3️⃣:3️⃣2️⃣ minute full video of punishment + full detailed story on JFF:
👉 JustFor.Fans/ZackDeclan
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Yesterday was day 464 of being locked in chastity under Sir Declan’s control (Locktober day 2).
Last night started off like the perfect kind of evening you imagine in your head but never think will actually happen. Sir had already texted me earlier in the day telling me to show up at the gym. As soon as I walked in, his eyes told me everything: this wasn’t going to be a “regular” workout. Between sets he’d whisper in my ear, “I’m going to make your body better for me. Stronger, tighter, more useful. You’re mine to build.” Each word was like a pulse down my spine, a mix of fear and excitement.
After we left the gym, we came home. I immediately started preparing dinner after my shower exactly as he’d instructed earlier in the day. I had all the ingredients laid out; I knew the timing had to be perfect. He likes things a certain way: his plate built just right, sauces in the correct order, and the tray neat so he can eat from the couch. I didn’t even make my own plate at first. Instead, I knelt at his feet, rubbing his arches, running my thumbs over the tension in his heels while he ate.
Halfway through his meal he looked down at me, smiled, and said quietly but firmly, “Go get your food.” I got up and made my own plate, but instead of joining him on the couch, I had to sit on the floor at the coffee table, back turned to him, eating like a servant while he ate like a king. I could hear him breathing, feel the weight of his gaze on me.
We started a movie and for a few minutes I felt that rare softness; he let me curl up next to him, his arms around me, his hand lazily resting on my locked cock through my shorts. But I know him well enough to recognize when that softness changes. His body language shifted. His grip tightened.
He stood up and without raising his voice said in that low, unmistakable tone, “FOLLOW ME!”
As we got in the bedroom, he said:
“Hands over the cage now.” My stomach dropped. I knew what was coming.
The cage already sitting there like a silent threat. I raised my arms. He grabbed my left wrist and clicked the cuff to the top bar of the cage, then my right wrist to the other side. Cold metal. No movement. My body completely exposed.
Then came the first strike of the paddle. Not hard enough to break skin but hard enough to sting and echo in the room. He paused, reached for the permanent marker, uncapped it with his teeth, and began writing across my back in thick black letters: “Owned by Declan.” The ink felt cool at first, then hot as my skin burned from the paddle.
By the time he was done, my ass was bright red, my back a billboard with his name across it, my cock locked and throbbing, collar snug against my throat. He left me like that, wrists chained, ass stinging, for a good 30 to 45 minutes. I could hear him moving around, watching TV in the next room. Every so often he’d come back, rub my ass with his palm, slide his fingers into my mouth and say, “I love you, babe,” before disappearing again. Each time was a tease, a reminder of both his affection and his control.
When he finally released me, he didn’t send me away. He pulled me to the couch, had me lie on my stomach with my head on his lap so he could stroke my hair while watching more TV. My red, sore ass was on display the whole time. His other hand lazily rested on my back where his name was still written, fingers tracing the letters like he was reading them silently.
This is the reality behind the photos and the stories. This is the mix of discipline, service, and care that makes me his.
Hope you enjoy, comment and tell me what you think.
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📸 Full pics + 3️⃣:3️⃣2️⃣ minute full video + full detailed story on JFF:
👉 JustFor.Fans/ZackDeclan
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