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A quickie in a Spanish beach.

Yes! He was watching me exactly like the perverts who watched us in our class.

Knowing what I had to do I immediately got my Yoga mat and placed it in front of the picture window, being careful not to look at him. Turning my back to the window, I stripped off my nightshirt, and skinned my pink panties to the ground, kicking them to the side.

I stood there and breathed, not thinking of my audience, not thinking of anything. I was naked, beautiful, free. Breathe.

Relax. Breathe. Relax. Breathe.

After reaching a state of perfect relaxation I moved my arms up over my head and arched my back, perfectly segueing into the inhale position. Breathe. Breathe.

I moved to the exhale position, bending forward and touching my toes. Breathe. Breathe.

I did basic yoga positions for 20 minutes. By the time I switched over into doing slave paces I barely noticed him, because I knew he was eating out of the palm of my hand.

Why should his presence bother me? He was the one who should be embarrassed, sitting in his window, stroking his fat cock as he spied on me.

Disgusting old pervert!

Relishing my power over him I slowly slipped my hand between my legs and allowed myself the pleasure of my supple, teasing fingers. My first orgasm did not take long, and the second and third ones came even faster.

Even after Puffkins squirted his enormous stream into the air and dirtied his picture window with his filthy load I kept going. I kept going even after he fell asleep in his chair. He did not matter. It was not about him. It was about me.

As I sipped my coffee the next morning he was gone but his dried spunk was still splattered all over his picture window. I wondered if he would ever clean it. Men!


After class today I told Suzie all about my exposure therapy and discussed my idea for doing the class sans clothes. I felt like I could confide in her as Suzie and I have actually gotten quite friendly with her teasing me about my "slave potential" and me retaliating with mean lawyer jokes.

Suzie thought it was hysterical that my exposure therapy involved literal exposure. She also confessed she had been thinking about doing the class in the nude too and was delighted that I was willing to take the plunge and do it first.

She also loved the term "brisking" and thought it was the perfect way to describe whipping a slave girl. "Slave girls are lazy and stupid by nature," she explained. 'Brisking' is a way of sharpening the girls wits and getting her to pick up the pace."

After class she took me to breakfast in her building so we could discuss the logistics. The easiest approach would have been for me to simply wear my leotard to the gym, strip it off, then put it on when the class was over. However as I explained to Suzie this was entirely unacceptable. I wanted the men in the window to view me as just another slave, and they would only do that if I arrived naked like the other slave girls. Being a free woman stripping for the pleasure of men was humiliating; being a naked slave girl was sensual and wonderful.

Fortunately, getting into the workout room was easy. There was a utility corridor exit to the woman's locker room that led both to an outside exit and to the court where the women did their exercises. To avoid having to walk all the way around the club the free women would change into their leotards, walk about 30 feet down the empty cement corridor, and enter.

Suzie pointed out that there was a door from the slave pens that also led into this same corridor, so if I waited for the other naked slave girls to arrive I could make their entrance with them. Easy!

Exiting the gym was much more difficult. Unfortunately the door to the private utility corridor locked behind us so I couldn't use it as an exit. To get back to the locker room Suzie and I always walked all the way around the club, while the slave girls went down a stair in the outer hallway that led to the slave pens.

Although she offered to escort me I didn't really like

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