Z is for Zyon

Blogging from A to Z April Challenge a-to-zchallenge.com Zz

The end of A to Z!? Where did the time go? If you’re just checking us out for the first time, you should start back at V is for Vacation which is the beginning of this story arc. Remember, all likes and comments count toward the bet Richard and I made with each other. The winner gets a $50 book store shopping spree!

Z is for Zyon

by Jayden

Less than 24 hours later, I stood in front of the reserved room at the appropriate time, and I was so nervous. I was excited, too, but very, very nervous. I wanted to meet this Master Zyon. I wanted to see what he expected of me. But I also felt very vulnerable.

I knocked timidly at the door.

“Come in,” a voice called from inside.

I turned the knob and opened the door slowly. It swung inward, and I got my first glimpse of the room. My eyes took in everything except the man standing in the middle of the room. I couldn’t process him yet. Everything in the room was purple. The walls, the tile floor, the dresser, the small sofa, the sheets on the bed, even the ceiling, which at first I thought was white, was a pale shade of purple.

But there in the center of the room was a tall man wearing tight jeans and a T-shirt.

“Come in,” he said, and I did, shutting the door behind me mostly to give me something to do with my hands.

As I stepped forward, I took in his crystal blue eyes and short, dark hair. I don’t know what I expected, but not this. He seemed too normal. He was physically fit and very attractive, but nothing that would make him seem like he was a god. “You look so…” I let my voice trail off, but he didn’t fill the silence, “normal.”

He laughed then, a deep throaty laugh that made my insides clench. “I’m glad,” he said. “I usually wear a bit nicer clothes, but after I spoke to Suzie about you, I thought you would prefer more casual attire.”

He had talked to Suzie about me? I wasn’t sure how I felt about that, but he was right about the clothes, and I told him so.

“So,” he said, leading me over to the couch and sitting beside me, “I read through your questionnaire. I know that you are probably very nervous and definitely very curious.” I nodded. “We’ll take it slow. Don’t worry.” He reminded her of her safe words again, made sure she felt comfortable with everything. He ran down a list of the activities he wanted to do with her, making sure she was okay with each one. When that was all settled, he said, “I normally wouldn’t go through my planned scene with my sub ahead of time, but since it’s your first time, I thought that might ease some of your fears.”

She nodded. “Yes, it does. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. And from here on out, I expect you to address me as Sir.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl,” he said, and I felt my insides warm at his words. “Stand up and let me get a good look at you.”

“Yes, Sir,” I said, and I stood a few feet in front of him, feeling awkward in my short heels, knee-length skirt, and nearly see-through top.

He made a spin-around gesture with his finger, and I did, too quickly at first, and he told me to slow down and made me do it again.

I did, and I felt my cheeks burn. When I was facing him again, I looked down at his feet. I watched them as he stood up and moved toward me. He put one finger under my chin and lifted my head so I was looking up at him.

“You have nothing to be ashamed of or nervous about, little one. You’re very beautiful.”

“I am?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said. “I’m going to thoroughly enjoy teaching you.”

I blushed deeper and tried to look down, but it just made things blurry since he hadn’t let go of my chin. And then, all at once, his hand was wrapped around the back of my neck, squeezing until it was just slightly uncomfortable. My eyes darted back up to his.

“What did you forget already?”

“Sir, I’m sorry, Sir.”

He squeezed a little tighter, and I whimpered, “That’s better. If you forget again, I’m going to spank you.”

I felt my pussy tighten at his words. The thought of him taking me over his knee to teach me a lesson was incredibly arousing. “I’ll do my best not to forget, Sir.”

“Good girl,” he said, and he loosened his grip on me.

I could still feel where his fingers had been, and a large part of me wanted them back. He ran his fingers over me then, his hands warm and sexy. He trailed them down my arms, and my skin erupted with goosebumps. He ran them down my sides over my see-through shirt. He didn’t even try to touch my breasts; he just went down my sides to my hips. He moved over the fabric of my skirt, the loose, flowing material making it hard to feel his hands. I moaned softly in frustration.

“What’s wrong, little one?”

It was hard for me to form words. Talking to this perfect stranger felt odd. “I-I liked how your hands felt on me, and now I can’t feel them, Sir.”

He chuckled, not the deep laugh from before, but still sexy. “I can fix that,” he said, and he knelt in front of me, undoing the clasp on my skirt and sliding it down over my hips. I felt unbalanced as I stepped out of it, and I had to hang onto his shoulders.

I had carefully selected a black thong for this event, and he was running his fingers over the lacy fabric. He pressed his nose right up against the wet spot pooling there and inhaled.

“You smell great,” he said.

“Thank you, Sir,” I said, and I think I did a pretty good job of keeping the question out of my voice. I don’t think anyone had ever complimented the way my pussy smelled before. But I didn’t have a lot of time to contemplate it as his tongue pressed against the fabric.

He moaned softly, “I can’t wait to taste you. I know you’re going to taste great.”

I hoped so, but I hadn’t tasted myself, and I didn’t know what to say, so I stayed quiet this time. Master Zyon let his fingers trail down my thick thighs, over my calves, and across the tops of my very ticklish feet. I couldn’t help but giggle.

“Sorry,” he said, “I didn’t know you were that ticklish.”

“It’s fine,” I said, a smile still turning up the corners of my mouth. “My feet are just ungodly sensitive, Sir.”

“I won’t touch them if you don’t want me to,” he replied.

“No, it’s fine. I liked it, Sir.” The words escaped me before I had fully processed what they meant. But I knew that they were true, so I didn’t try to take them back, as much as part of me wished I could.

“Okay then,” he said, and he ran the tips of his fingers across them again. I squealed just a little and gripped his shoulders again, trying to make sure I didn’t lose my balance. “This could be a lot of fun,” he said, looking up at me.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about that, but I didn’t argue.

“I love these heels,” he said, running his hands over the leather, “but I think I want to see you in nothing but a collar.”

I could feel my eyes going wide at his words, and before I could overthink it, he was sliding my shoes off. I let him, using his shoulders to balance. Once my shoes were set carefully to the side, he stood up and pulled my top over my head. My breasts were bare to him, and he got his first good look at my large areolae and hard nipples. He cupped my breasts in each hand, feeling their weight.

“Beautiful,” he said, and he nibbled his way across my soft flesh. I moaned as his teeth sank into them, wanting more, wanting the soft bites to leave lasting marks. It was so hot.

“Thank you, Sir,” I whispered, trying to remember what I was supposed to be doing.

He gently let go of my breasts and hooked both sides of my thong, pulling it down to my ankles and letting me step out of it. And then I was completely naked in front of this stranger.

He stepped back, looking me over. He circled me this time, nice and slow. I felt like he was a predator, and I was the prey. But it turned me on. I could feel my thighs becoming slick with my arousal. I wanted to turn my head like an owl and follow his movements, but I stayed staring straight ahead. He paused behind me, and I suddenly could feel his breath on my neck. It was hot, both in temperature and in sexiness. “Bend over, little one. I want to really see your ass.”

I bent at the waist, gripping my ankles with hands, silently being thankful that I was so flexible.

His hands gripped my hips lightly, and it sent shivers down my spine. Then one hand left my hip, and I felt it press against my asshole, just the tiniest bit. “How does that feel, little one?” he asked.

I moaned softly, and then I said, “It feels amazing, Sir.”

“Good,” he said, “I want to fuck your tight little ass.”

“You do?” I asked, my eyes wide again, “Sir,” I quickly added.

“I do,” he replied.

I wracked my brain, trying to remember what I had put on the questionnaire. Did I tell him I wanted to try anal? That I had done it before? That I didn’t love it? I couldn’t remember, but I had done it before, and it wasn’t my favorite thing, but if he really wanted to, I wouldn’t deny him.

“Do you want to feel my big cock stretching your asshole?” he asked.

That’s it for our A to Z posts! Crazy that the month is already over. But if you want more, I’ll continue this story for a few more weeks right here every Thursday. Be sure to follow my blog so you don’t miss a post!

Also, Vacation is BACK starting tomorrow! Join Mark and Ivy as they go on a fun cruise vacation and see what shenanigans they get up to. (If you’re new to the blog, start back at the beginning here.)

7 thoughts on “Z is for Zyon

  1. I can’t believe April is over. I will admit I skipped most of that because I was mostly interested about the Master thing. How does that work? Yeah, I don’t think I would like that. He seems like a really nice guy though to be making her comfortable pre-torture. I guess you have to be in that line of work? LOL.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. It’s all about mutual respect and communication.

      Any good Dominant will respect a submissive’s boundaries. But, for example, I’m a pain slut. I looooove to be hurt and tortured. Sometimes it doesn’t make sense to me on a logical level, but my physical and emotional reaction to it is undeniable. (You can ask Richard, haha!) In any case, it may not always be tender if that isn’t what the submissive wants, but it should always be respectful.

      Liked by 1 person

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