John watched through a one-way mirror as the yoga class began. It hadn't been easy convincing Emma the cost of private lessons was worth it. In the end, flattery had proved the key—she'd caved once John told her she was too advanced for group sessions and her classmates were holding her back. John shook his head, remembering how Emma's blue, almond-shaped eyes had lit up with the compliment, her full lips curving up into a radiant smile. Emma was an Instagram "model," and she had an ego the size of an ocean. She loved hearing she was better than every one else.
John gazed through the mirror as Emma and her instructor, a lithe, 24-year-old Latina named Sophia, assumed the downward dog position. John shook his head again. As much as he hated to admit it, sitting there staring at Emma's toned ass through her black yoga pants, he had to concede she really was better than most everyone else, at least when it came to her physical appearance. At 5"9' Emma was tall for a woman. She had straight, shoulder-length blonde hair that was pulled back into a ponytail for today's lesson. Her pink spandex top left her midriff exposed and accentuated her thin waist and sizable breasts.
John watched as Emma and Sophia moved into a puppy dog pose. Emma dropped down onto her knees, then leaned forward, stretching her ams out in front of her on her yoga mat. She arched her back, pressing her face and chest into the mat while keeping her ass raised high in the air.
John licked his lips. It he didn't know better, he might have thought Emma was presenting herself to him, asking to be fucked. But of course she wasn't. She thought she was alone with her instructor, and she had no idea John was leering at her form behind the mirror.
John doubted Emma would approve of him watching her private lesson, even though she made a living posing in skimpy clothes for thousands of strangers on the internet. He smiled. Fortunately for him, Emma wouldn't hold a grudge.
John reached forward and hit a small, red button on the panel in front of him, and colorless, odorless gas began spilling into the yoga studio.
The effects began subtly. John watched as Emma and Sophie performed a series of stretches. After around five minutes, John could see Emma's stone-faced determination begin to fade as the gas dulled her thoughts and induced feelings of euphoria. Emma's eyes became unfocused, and her full, pink lips curled up in a blissful, mindless grin.
As the women continued stretching, their form grew increasingly sloppy as their muscles involuntarily relaxed.
John leaned forward for a better look as the women entered the happy baby pose. Emma lay with her back flat against her mat and grabbed her ankles with both hands, pulling her legs back toward her chest. John enjoyed the view of her camel toe through her yoga pants.
As the gas's effects reached their peak, John watched Emma's mouth fall open, her jaw going slack. A thin line of drool escaped her lips and slid down the side of her cheek. Emma let her right leg slip out of her hand as she stared up at the ceiling with vacant eyes. She slowly slid her free hand into her yoga pants and began gently rubbing her clit. In its more advance stages, the gas caused extreme sexual arousal in addition intense euphoria.
John smiled, satisfied. That was the sign he'd been watching for. Emma's mind was now blank and pliable. She no longer had any real understanding of where she was or what she was doing. She was masturbating on pure instinct in response to her sudden arousal.
Sophia lay flat on her back in front of Emma. She'd let go of both legs and was using her hands to massage her breasts through her shirt. John could't hear her through the glass, but he could see her lips mouthing something over again.
This wasn't Sophia's first time under the influence of the gas. Far from it. John had thoroughly conditioned her mind to associate the euphoria from the gas with subservience to him. In fact, John had taken her conditioning so far that she followed his orders even without the gas. But this moment wasn't about Sophia. He was here to play with a new toy.
John pressed the little, red button again, shutting off the gas. He then exited the secret room and walked around to yoga studio. As he entered, he heard Sophia reciting her mantra: "I belong to Master. I belong to Master..." He'd always found her Spanish accent sexy.
John walked to Emma and stood over her. Her eyes stared up at John, but it was clear from her vacant expression that she didn't see him. She still held her left ankle in her hand, but her right leg lay splayed out on the floor, and John could see a bulge in her yoga pants where her right hand was playing with her pussy.
"Hello, Emma," John said, smiling broadly. "I'm a big admirer of your modeling work. I think you'll soon be an admirer of me as well."
Emma showed no sign she'd heard John.
"Emma, you're going to answer all of my questions truthfully and follow all of my orders obediently," John instructed. "As long as you do exactly what I say, you'll keep feeling this good. You do feel good don't you?"
"Yesss," Emma whimpered, her voice wavering from pleasure. "Feel good..." Her eyes remained blank, and her jaw went slack again as soon as she'd finished answering.
"Good, good," John encouraged. "A sexy girl like you deserves to feel good. Stand up for me so I can get a better look at you."
Emma slowly removed her hand from her pants and let go of her leg. She sat up, then used one arm up help push herself up on to her feet, where she stood slack jawed before John, staring into space.
"I've waited quite a while for this, Emma," John began. "Ever since you joined the studio and I found the slutty pictures you post on Instagram. Tell me, does it turn you on to show off your body online?"
"Yes," Emma replied expressionlessly.
"I figured," John chuckled. "Have you ever taken nude pictures?"
"Yes. I have a paid Snapchat account I use to send nudes," Emma answered.
John nodded. He'd expected as much. It was so easy for attractive girls to make some extra cash these days. "I'm sure your Snapchat followers love that. Luckily for me, I'm going to get a bit more personal experience with you."
John stepped in close to Emma, his face inches from hers. He looked into her eyes vacant as she stared straight through him. He reached up and ran his hand through her golden blonde hair, then then gently ran his index finger over Emma's soft, supple lips.
John pulled his hand away and inspected his finger. Lip gloss. Even for a private lesson, she couldn't resist dressing up a bit. John wiped his finger off on Emma's cheek. "Feeling a little slutty today are we?" he teased.
"No," Emma answered, unaware it had been a rhetorical question.
John frowned. "You'll fee slutty soon enough. Open your mouth," he ordered.
Emma silently parted her lips, and John slipped his finger inside. "Suck," he commanded.
Emma closed her soft lips, and her cheeks sunk inward as she dutifully formed suction around John's finger as it she was trying to drink through a straw.
John sighed. Women tended to take orders a bit too literally under the influence of the gas. "Pretend you're giving my finger a blowjob," he clarified.
