Namaste Yoga Pt. 07
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I failed to include several pages of key narrative when I published this previously. For those who may have read the first edition, you can skip to the word “scheme” and read from there…or feel free to read the whole thing again!
When Emmy arrived for her final class, Charlie was attentive. Things had moved quickly, as she knew they would, with Emmy compliant and needing whatever Jacob implied. Re-watching the most recent session, she was surprised at how it had aroused her. Emmy’s fixation on Jacob’s erect member, her pushing out of her labia and arching her back whenever she could, begging with her body to be taken. She kept re-visiting one moment in time when Emmy said something, so quietly Charlie couldn’t hear it clearly. Eventually she figured it out: “Please.” It was obvious Yogi Jacob had heard it though, moving his fingers against her, kneeling so his erection was at her mouth in Down Dog, helping her move herself onto it as she transitioned into Dolphin.
But something wasn’t quite right with Emmy today; she seemed upset and distracted.
“Hi, Emmy!” Charlie added some emphasis. At her subdued response, Charlie continued. “Are you feeling okay? Is there anything I can get you?”
Emmy smiled weakly and assured her it was nothing; that she really could use this session with everything going on. Charlie gently suggested she could tell Yogi Jacob if there was anything wrong so he could adjust accordingly. Emmy smiled weakly again, assuring her she would tell Yogi Jacob whatever she needed and turned to enter the locker room.
After several years of offering these special classes, Charlie felt she’d seen almost every scenario, but even if that weren’t the case, she could smell when things were heading off the rails. It’s possible Emmy was having problems that could wash over into NamasteYoga’s business. She buzzed Jacob to give him a heads up.
Putting down the receiver, she reminisced about how they’d gotten here. She was surprised at how easily they got their first client, smiling grimly at how it had been a complete fluke. Given how quickly they put that first class together, Charlie panicked, thinking her forecasts were completely wrong. But the second class took much longer, much closer to her original expectations.
Ashely, their first prospect, was curious when Charlie mentioned NamasteYoga was adding some services. She quietly intimated the classes could be private with more intimacy.
“Well, sure,” she said uncertainly, scanning Charlie’s face for any hidden meanings. “How much are you suggesting a private will cost?”
Charlie handed her a flyer with the various options and watched as Ashely read down the chart.
“Ummm,” she looked up, confused. “What’s the difference in these two columns?” She looked back down and then brought her hand to her mouth, flicking her eyes back to Charlie. “Are you serious?” She was smiling behind her hand, waiting for confirmation.
“It’s the latest in Europe,” Charlie said matter-of-factly, “and we were looking to be the first studio in town to offer it.”
“I…wow…that’s a lot of money…wait…hold on. You guys are going to do group naked yoga??”
Charlie nodded, giving a silent shout out to herself. She’d nailed her perfectly. “We’re offering a grand opening special, 50% off, but we need four people minimum. If you have any friends who might want to join you, please feel free to let me know. We’re reserving Tuesdays, 5PM for group and mid-mornings for privates. That special price applies to privates as well, by the way, so if you wanted to try it yourself, keep that in mind.”
Ashely nodded, blushing but taking the sheet with her. “How long are you running the special?”
“We’re not sure. It might be an introductory price for the first class. For sure til the end of the month.”
Within a few days, Ashely had called back, giving Charlie names of folks she hoped would call. And a few days after that, NamasteYoga had its first group class scheduled.
“So, here’s the thing, Jacob.” She sat in his office going over last minute details. “I think we’ve got to play this straight for a few weeks to see how folks are with it. I’ve got profiles on all of the guests. Aside from Ashely, you’ve got five others: one more Type 2, two Type 1s and oddly one each Type 3 and 4. Either my screener needs to be cleaned up, or they misunderstood, or…I don’t know. So, let’s see what happens if you just run a straight class with no enhancements.”
She had finally understood what he had been doing in his regular classes, and specifically what he’d been doing with her in their privates. Something about his aroma was much of it, but his suggestions and gentle touches were part of the recipe. He didn’t even know he was doing it, it came so naturally to him. The two of them had had regular sessions together, working through sets for a variety of client types and skill levels, until Charlie realized she was spending far too kadıköy escort much time with him.
She couldn’t afford to get attached, either time-wise or emotionally. She was focused on building a business of her own and this was her first portfolio piece. Which was not to say the side-benefits weren’t amazing. They had explored a variety of positions she’d never heard of or seen before, all requiring some flexibility, balance or strength. And throughout, no matter how or where he penetrated her, she would climax unlike any other in her past. On those rare occasions where she felt him jerk and stiffen, pride rushed through her, knowing she’d pushed him over the top.
But it was all captured as “research,” and she had been careful to document exactly when he began to make his moves on her, when the sessions seemed to shift from clinical to personal. As they put the sets together, she would mark a position with an asterisk, indicating that was when he would most likely pivot. It was a warning more than guidance: to keep him hyper-aware of his unconscious tendencies.
“Until you are better at reading the room, and until we’re certain your clients really want to go there, I think erring on the side of caution is prudent, right?”
He nodded, still perplexed at how carefully she was thinking it all through. For him, it was just teaching yoga. It flowed. If it flowed into something else, well, that’s what the situation called for. He was still mystified by her insistence that something shifted whenever she had marked an asterisk. But he knew it was his blind spot, and if he wanted to understand it, he needed to be more present in those moments.
He was also mystified that clients would pay so much more simply to practice without clothes on. “This culture is so hung up on nudity,” he remarked to her during one work session. “Why should naked classes cost any more than dressed classes?”
She explained in overly simplistic terms how pricing affects perception. “It’s not so much that nudity itself commands a higher price,” she summarized, “but that there are no other studios offering it. That creates a supply scarcity, which means we can charge a premium. Of course, that only lasts until some other studio offers the same classes and undercuts us.” But, she thought, will they have figured out who to cater to and how? She was betting on the marketing and analysis to keep NamasteYoga’s prices above the competition. And of course the enhancements. Clearly Yogi Jacob had something special.
The first class was all women, and Charlie suggested he keep a loin cloth on. He looked skeptical, wondering why he shouldn’t also be naked with the students. “It seems like they’d feel more self-conscious if their teacher wasn’t undressed, no?”
She reminded him that as a teacher there were many different ways he was unlike his students: he didn’t do all of the positions, he moved among them, he touched them, he spoke. Being minimally dressed continued that status/power difference, and she assured him it was not only okay, it was expected. “As friendly as you are, you know you will never be their friend.”
She offered to help orient them, again keeping his role as teacher separate from the administrative parts of the work. As each woman arrived, she greeted them with a smile, offering them a wrapped gift of robe, incense, passcard key and printed card of instructions. Although phones were never allowed inside the studio, she made it clear that there would be no photography or videos permitted for the naked sessions.
They were asked to undress in the locker room and enter the studio with their robe, with the belief it would make the transition less difficult. With nothing to guide them, everything in those early days was an experiment. As the classes became more routine, and they needed fewer incentives, they stopped offering robes. The naked classes never were scheduled at the same time as any others, so having to cover up became superfluous.
She watched from a window they had installed high above her desk. It required a short stair to a platform, and even then, she sat on a high stool. As expected, Ashely was the first to disrobe and was least self-conscious. She stood at the top of her mat, at the front of the others, casually exposing her dark muff of hair and letting her breasts hang free. She set the tone for the others, who seemed self-conscious until they saw her. Even Toni, the Type 1, was hesitant for a few minutes until Ashely engaged her in casual conversation, apparently oblivious to her nudity.
It’s not like they hadn’t seen each other naked—they showered and dressed together, at least the ones who had taken classes before—and they were obviously friends: Ashely had invited all of them. So, this seemed like the right formula.
The group’s mood changed when Yogi Jacob entered the room. He greeted them warmly, dressed in his tunic, but they all froze, momentarily suffering self-conscious üsküdar escort embarrassment at being naked in front of a dressed man. They busied themselves at their mats, looking down and away as he pulled his tunic up and over his head. Except the Type 1 and 3. They both stared at him, surprised at seeing his penis was still covered, before readying themselves at the top of their mats.
The class went well—very well given it was their first. They discussed it later that day at the bar.
“Thoughts?” She sipped at her cocktail, remembering back to the scenes in the studio. She had pages of notes, but wanted to hear his impressions.
“It went well, I thought.” He stared at the wine in his glass, thinking. “I’m not sure I understood the differences between Ashely and Morgan. You keep saying they’re different types, but I couldn’t tell as I was facilitating.”
She nodded. They couldn’t have been more different, but she saw that he had been trying to treat them the same and it was confusing the situation. She had a few notes on that.
“Do you know if they were aroused afterward? You know I can’t tell.” He took a sip appraising the wine.
She had drifted into the locker room under the pretense of changing for the next class and tried to get a sense of the Zeitgeist. It was another set of notes. Oddly, they seemed much calmer than if they’d been dressed.
“I kept it as standard as I could muster. The markings helped, by the way. I could feel when I was heading off the trail. It was challenging. I found that interesting.”
She smiled. His introspection wasn’t as much about the women as it was about his own teaching.
“So,” she began, “here’s what I saw.” She walked him through a slew of observations, noting their hesitancies, where they were self-conscious, when they moved into the flow, how they studied each other surreptitiously, who presented themselves and who remained restrained. She went through the post-session observations, how the locker room smelled less intensely than during normal classes and their level of meditative daze.
He was surprised at the number of notes and at her level of inspection, realizing again she brought a completely different sensibility to the endeavor from him.
“But,” she continued, “I think we can make some improvements.” She took another sip. “For example, the Types. I think it would be good for you to re-arrange the class when you first walk in, moving the Type 2/4s to the front and leaving the doms to the rear. It will maintain a better sense of status separation and I think we’ll see a stronger separation of effect.”
He nodded, but looked pained. “We make it a policy not to move people. They pick their spot for their own reasons.”
She nodded sympathetically. “Right. And that’s fine for any other classes. But we’ve handpicked these students, in a sense, and we know more about them, as a whole, than any one of them knows. It will make a better experience for them, in spite of the intrusion.” She paused, thinking further. “It’s possible you could make the assignment once, and request they honor the placement for the future.”
He pursed his lips, nodding and thinking.
“Next class, I’d say you could start introducing the ‘variants,'” using the word they’d agreed on for the asterisked places in the set, “but keep them minimal and let’s see what the differences are in the locker room.
“Finally, I’d suggest you introduce a few pairing exercises by class three, putting the odds with evens, when possible. It will be interesting to see if it matters.”
That was over three years ago, and the business hadn’t been the same since. They had waiting lists for most classes, and they’d landed on a rate for the privates that far exceeded the group classes. Jacob had hired a teacher for the intro/beginning classes, giving him more time for his privates. Thinking back to that first session, Charlie felt a tinge of loss at how long it had been since she’d had drinks with him. Those early days were fun, experimenting with the formula, doing “research,” and debriefing. But she needed to keep her distance, even though he continued to suggest having a deeper relationship with her.
Her thoughts were interrupted by motion on the monitor at the desk. Emmy had entered the room, quickly followed by Yogi Jacob. Charlie loved watching Type 4s in general, but she’d never seen anyone do to Jacob what Emmy had been doing. He quickly lifted his tunic and she saw the surprise on Emmy’s face at him being completely nude.
“It seems impractical to keep the cloth on,” he said to her smiling. “You arouse me so quickly there’s little point in trying to hide it.”
Charlie thought she could see a blush on Emmy’s face, but it was hard to tell.
Jacob’s cock was already thickening, sticking straight out as he asked her the standard opening questions: is anything hurt, do you need to adjust for any changes, do you need tuzla escort anything special?
Usually Emmy said nothing, but today she needed to talk.
“There is something, Yogi Jacob,” she said quietly. “I…I’m not sure how to talk about it.”
He waited, patiently.
“You know my friend Julie, right? Well, we get together every Sunday for brunch, and well, you know she’s married, right?”
Yogi Jacob appeared unfazed by the news. Charlie looked at the other camera to get a clearer view of Emmy’s face. She seemed really distressed.
“Well, I’m kind of mixed up in something with her husband and I’m afraid of what will happen…but then, I’m also mixed up with her, here, and I don’t know if I can continue to keep it all secret.” She brought her hands up to her eyes to wipe away a tear.
Charlie noticed Jacob’s erection growing.
“What can I do for you?” His voice was calm and gentle.
She shrugged, the tears coming stronger now. She looked so exposed, so vulnerable, naked and crying in front of her teacher, his erection like a small sword pointing at her. Charlie felt moved in a way she hadn’t before. She made a mental note of it.
“I don’t know,” Emmy sobbed quietly. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you, except you asked if I had anything going on. I know. I know you were asking about my body, but this thing has been so distracting, I wasn’t sure I was going to make the private today.”
He watched silently for a moment. “Okay. I understand. Let’s see if we can get you into a place where you can forget the outside world and focus only on yourself. Would that be helpful?”
She nodded and sniffled, wiping her eyes and giggling a little that she didn’t have anything to wipe her fingers on. He handed her the tunic, moving his cock so close to her hand she could have wrapped her fingers around it.
He moved her through the initial meditations. Charlie watched her thighs and glutes stiffen as she bent over, her pussy lips pushing through, opening and clearly glistening.
At mid-session, he had her bend, 90 degrees, palms flat against the wall in a modified “L” pose, her legs spread open. It was just at the edge of the camera, but she knew he was preparing to impale her.
“Bend your knees, slightly, Emmy. That’s right. I’m going to enter you now, and I want you to work her knees slowly up and down to help me. Okay?”
“Yes, Yogi Jacob. Thank you.” She paused. “Please…may I ask you to enter me?”
Charlie’s ears perked up. What had she just said? She turned up the volume, the background noise got louder.
“Of course, Emmy. Whatever you need.”
“Please Yogi Jacob. Please let me feel your lignam deep in my yoni. Will you push it deep into me, please?”
Charlie felt a glow in her groin at Emmy’s shift, pleased with herself for once again nailing her type.
She could see him lining himself up as Emmy’s knees bent, his tip just touching her lips forcing a sigh from her.
“I need you to fuck me, Yogi Jacob. I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t say it that way, but I need it so badly. I need to feel your hard cock pushing deep into me. Can you push yourself as deep as possible into me?”
He said something so quiet the mics didn’t pick it up, and then slowly pushed into her, forcing a gasp and then a small cry as his girth split her open. His hands held onto her waist and he kept guiding her quietly. For her part she moaned, sobbing and begging him to fuck her. Charlie stared, transfixed; she confirmed the recording was going. This was going to make choice video. She could barely wait to share it, knowing her partner would go wild from it.
Emmy’s voice raised an octave and with her climax she stayed fixed in place, her hands against the wall, her butt cheeks pushed out. Jacob slowly slid out of her, his cock glistening as he began to suggest the next position.
But Emmy interrupted him, still bent in an L, her pussy wet and open, her legs spread. Charlie noticed her breasts, swinging with her labored breathing. “Please, Yogi Jacob. Please let me clean your cock with my tongue.” Jacob froze for a moment, looking up at the camera, questioning.
Charlie had no way to signal him, but from what she had just heard, there wasn’t a thing wrong with two consenting adults having some fun. Emmy wasn’t being coerced—the tapes clearly would show that—and she wasn’t getting paid to service him—the records would show that—which only left the payment she had made: for yoga lessons. The entire prior weeks would show exactly that: yoga lessons. Perhaps Jacob was violating ethics rules, but since NamasteYoga didn’t have such rules in place, even that was up for discussion.
Jacob said something indistinct and Emmy slowly bent to touch her toes, bending her legs eventually coming to rest on hands and knees in TableTop. Turning from the wall, she opened her mouth and slowly began to wash him from sac to tip, slipping her tongue around his shaft, grabbing it with her lips when she could. With each breath he continued to guide her, suggesting she push out her labia and focus on her Chakra; his words and tone seemingly indifferent to what mouth’s. Except that his cock didn’t soften, so he must have been feeling it, even if he didn’t acknowledge it.
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