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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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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.

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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If you want the full humiliation, the behind-the-scenes footage, and the stories that don’t make it here, join us on JFF. You’ll see everything up close. 🔑

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👉 Twitter/X: @jktoronto11
👉 🦋: @jktoronto11

🎁 Declan’s Throne:
throne.com/jktoronto11

It’s a holiday today, and I’m home alone, tidying up before Declan gets back from work. Honestly, it sucks that he had to go in today—I was hoping we’d get to spend the day together. I didn’t expect him to come home on his lunch break, but he did. I had the music playing loud while I vacuumed and didn’t hear the door open.

Next thing I knew, he was behind me—his surprise made me yelp so loud I nearly dropped the vacuum. He just laughed and said with a smirk, “Good housewife, cleaning up while I’m out making money.”

Still catching my breath, I asked, “What are you doing home, babe?”

He leaned in close and replied, “There’s a new guy at work. Hot as hell. I’ve been hard all morning just looking at him. I came home to put on some tighter underwear—don’t need everyone noticing.”

Before I could reply, he took my hand and said, “Come with me.” There was a glint in his eye I knew all too well.

He led me to the room where he keeps the jail cell —our little shared secret. “Shhh,” he whispered. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he locked one end of a hinged cuff around my balls and the other to the cold iron bar. My hands followed, restrained together in front of me to the bars. I was now kneeling, unable to move without a very noticeable consequence. He took my phone and placed it near by and turned my camera on and said: “Use your watch and turn your camera on to film yourself if you want or don’t. I don’t care”

Declan stepped back smiling. “Move too much, and you’ll feel it,” he warned, brushing his hand down my cheek. “I’m going to the living room to watch some porn and blow a load. I might make a bit of a mess—something for you to deal with after I leave.”

I heard him walk off, and then the unmistakable sounds of moans and motion coming from the other room. I couldn’t move, couldn’t touch—only listen. Time slowed to a crawl. Ten minutes later, he returned, casually unfastened the cuffs, and with a satisfied tone said, “Clean the carpet before I get back,” he said, licking his thumb and brushing it across my bottom lip. “I left you something to remember me by.”

Seconds later, the door shut behind him.

I wish I could say I was strong enough to resist, but I didn’t even think to take a picture for all of you. I just cleaned it up… maybe a little more intimately than I should have as I admit I took a few licks.

Does that make me pathetic licking his cum from the carpet?

All I know is… I’m still aching for him.

Check out our social sites as we post daily: X/Twitter: JKTORONTO11 (Zack – me) (13k+) & Bluesky: JKTORONTO11 (Sir Declan)

https://throne.com/jktoronto11

It’s been a couple of days since we arrived at the cottage.

I had settled into a routine, one that revolved around taking care of the men.

The men:

My boyfriend: Declan & his buddy: Rick

My daily routine included:

Waking up earlier than them and doing Rick’s morning chores, which included: Watering the grass, flowers, and plants, setting up the beach chairs, gathering fresh towels and cleaning the outdoor shower, preparing the coffee, picking up the beer cans and bottles around the firepit

Declan usually slept in, but Rick was up early, sitting quietly on the deck. When I saw him, I’d bring him his coffee and sit with him briefly before getting back to my chores. He’d sip his coffee, smoke his cigarettes, and watch me.

https://throne.com/jktoronto11

On the second morning, Rick said, “Declan is a lucky guy to have such an obedient boyfriend. You should be proud of yourself.”

I blushed. I was proud of myself.

Once Declan woke up, he’d join Rick on the deck. I made sure his coffee was ready and kept both their mugs topped up.

One of my additional tasks was applying suntanning oil to both of them. It was always a struggle doing Rick—his toned body made my chastity cage strain uncomfortably.

That day, Rick gave me a few extra tasks:

Carrying firewood to the pit, setting up a cooler full of beer and ice by the beach and laying out towels for tanning

I laid out three towels, but later noticed one had been removed and folded away. I guess that meant I wasn’t tanning with them today.

By 2 PM, the men were well into their drinks. I was allowed to join in and had a couple beers myself. While watering the grass, I saw them both approach. Declan kissed me gently—and while I was distracted, Rick grabbed my arm from behind.

Before I knew what was happening, they had me on the ground. I was lying on my stomach, confused, as they handcuffed my wrists behind my back.

Me: “What’s going on, guys? You know I’d comply willingly.”

Declan: “Be quiet, Zack.”

They lifted me to my feet and escorted me to a bushy area near the trees. One cuff was released only to reattach my arms—this time around the trunk of a tree. I was now kneeling, helpless, my hands secured around the bark.

Declan walked away. Rick crouched in front of me, looked me in the eye, then spat on my face.

Rick: “Your boyfriend and I want to enjoy some drinks and a book by the lake. If we hear a peep from you, I’ll stuff one of my dirty socks in your mouth and duct tape it shut.

Just relax. Enjoy nature. We’ll be watching from the lake.”

It was the first time Rick had ever asserted such dominance. I was stunned. Humiliated. And I couldn’t do a thing—just kneel there, his spit drying on my face.

What I didn’t know was that Declan had logged into my X account and posted:

“At a buddy’s cottage. Who wants me to cuff Zack, drag him into the woods, tie him fully naked to a tree and piss all over him while we drink in the sun? Maybe Rick adds his too. 😈

Hit up my throne if you want to make it happen. Just added: Cottage Soaking While Stored.”

https://x.com/jktoronto11/status/1922735939039670707?s=46&t=blbTY-cC-2tO1piyP4MQeQ

@keyofkink—someone I regularly chat with—saw it. And apparently, he helped make Declan’s “wish” come true. (He requested I stay clothed)

An hour passed before Declan returned. He kissed me and said he loved me. Then he unzipped his shorts, pulled out his cock, and let loose.

He pissed all over me—face, shirt, shorts—everything soaked in his golden spray. Then, without a word, he walked away.

Thirty minutes later, still drenched and stinking of piss, Rick strolled over.

Me: “Any chance I could get something to drink? It’s hot. Maybe a water? Or beer?”

Rick smirked, then without a word, pulled out his cock.

It was thick, uncut, and glistening with pre-cum. He must have seen my jaw drop, because he laughed.

Rick: “Sure. Open up, urinal.”

I knew I wasn’t getting water. I opened my mouth. His sun-warmed cock slid in, and he held my head.

Rick: “Drink up.”

He pissed. I swallowed. As much as I could. Some of it spilled out, but I didn’t resist. He eventually stepped back and walked away.

And I stayed there, tied up, watching them lounge by the lake—laughing, drinking, being men.

This went on for hours. Occasionally, one would come piss on me again, or in me. At one point Rick came by and said:

Rick: “Declan’s napping. I told him I’d take care of you. Open up.”

I expected more piss. But once his cock slid into my mouth, it got hard—and stayed hard.

He didn’t say much. He just started thrusting. Slowly at first, then more forcefully.

He used my throat like a toy. I gagged at first, but eventually my body adjusted. He fucked my face for about twenty minutes, until he came hard down my throat.

He pulled out and looked at me.

Rick: “Here’s a towel. I’m removing the cuffs. Strip—get naked.”

I obeyed. Standing naked in front of him, he looked down and burst out laughing.

Rick: “What the fuck is that? Declan never told me your cock’s locked.”

Me: “He didn’t do it for this trip. I’ve been locked for over 330 days. I haven’t seen or touched my cock in almost a year.”

He cuffed my hands in front and pointed to the shower.

Rick: “Go clean up. You’re barbecuing after.”

As I turned to leave, towel in hand, he called after me:

Rick: “Excuse me?! Aren’t you going to thank me for my load?”

I turned, dropped to my knees, kissed his feet.

Me: “Thank you. Your seed was amazing—it’ll give me energy to serve you both later.”

Rick: “That’s hot. Okay—go.”

True story… the end

Check out our social sites as we post daily: X/Twitter: JKTORONTO11 (Zack – me) & Bluesky: JKTORONTO11(Declan)

https://throne.com/jktoronto11

I’m a gay top but have never thought about domination or hierarchy. One month ago I went to a new dentist and he was was very girly, young, and attractive. He treated me very well, but at first I thought that he was just attentive and a good professional. Today I went back to his office and he said that I didn’t need to pay because it was my second appointment (which does not make any sense lol). What are the chances of him being a fag willing to take my cock?

Oh Sir, thank you so much for this experience/question! THIS sums up the message of this website and everything I’ve been doing in the Hierarchical space! 

I’m going to answer your question first. What are the chances this dentist is a faggot? Um, about a 10000% chance, Sir. 

I sincerely hope this experience is helping you to see the truth going on all around you, Sir. The faggots in your presence struggling to speak, the betas sucking up to you … because they subconsciously recognize what you are – an Alpha. 

Recognizing and embracing your Alphahood is like receiving an all-inclusive pass to all of the VIP rooms in all of the best places around the world. You start to see and experience the perks and benefits of your Alphahood, just like your experience with this dentist. You were probably bewildered by the tribute that faggot dentist gave you, but you should start to see it as YOUR BIRTHRIGHT. It’s what you deserve every day, Sir.

You’re not taking advantage of these inferiors when you use them. They WANT to give you whatever you want. It FULFILLS them when you use them. You can walk up to any faggot you see and tell it to buy you a drink/drop and kiss your feet/pay for your dinner/suck your cock/whatever you want. That’s Hierarchy.

So I suggest you go back to that dentist and tell it you want a private appointment because you want to give it an oral examination … and see how long it takes for the faggot to be upside-down in the dentist chair! The faggot is yours for the taking, Sir!

Thank you, Sir!  

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