***This is a fictional erotic story written by me, about me and from my point of view. You should not be reading this if you’re not of legal age, 18 in America, 21 in some other countries. I never explain in my CNC stories how consent was garnered. I have a post named “How I approach stories about CNC/R**p*ay” pinned on my page explaining why. CNC relationships come in all forms, including scenes that may seem/feel too real. I can assure you that since the stories are always starring me as the prey, I consent. This is my fantasy, not yours. You are not being forced to read this, so if you choose to then be nice and enjoy. ☺️***
I’ve been going to her Sunday yoga classes for some time now. “Good morning everyone, welcome to the class. How is everyone doing today?” She asks the class in her soft, almost whispered tone. We all respond similarly, she smiles. I could tell you the class is really relaxing & good for my health. Both of those things would be factual. However, I go to watch her. The mirrors that line the walls in the room make it easy. “In the corner, you will see cards. If you are comfortable with hands-on adjustments from me, grab a black card. If you are not, grab a red. Put this at the front of your mat.” Everyone got up and grabbed their preferred card, returning to their mats.